Valentina sat in her usual corner of the library with a crumpled piece of parchment in front of her, going over her plan with Vyxara for the hundredth time.

  "Let's go over everything again, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered in her head. "The messenger..."

  "Hobkin's friend will break the news to Faustus tomorrow evening," Valentina murmured so quietly that no one could hear her. "He is to tell him that Madame Rosalie of the 'Red Swan' has changed her mind and wants to apologize to him."

  "And why will Faustus fall for it?"

  "Because he was banned after hitting one of the girls," Valentina replied grimly. "It'll stroke his inflated ego that someone wants to apologize to him. He'll go there."

  "Good," Vyxara purred contentedly. "And how long will it take to get there?"

  "At least an hour's walk. The 'Red Swan' is at the other end of the city." Valentina scribbled a small sketch on her parchment. "And when he gets there..."

  "… he will realize that Madame Rosalie has no idea what he's talking about," Vyxara completed the sentence. "And our little messenger will delay him as long as possible."

  "Exactly. That gives us at least two hours." Valentina nervously wiped a strand of hair from her face. "I hope that's enough."

  A student coughed nearby and Valentina winced. She looked around, but no one was paying attention to her. Matilda Ravencroft, the librarian, was busy reprimanding a group of older students who were discussing their homework too loudly.

  "Concentrate," Vyxara admonished. "What do we know about the security measures in his room?"

  Valentina took a deep breath. "According to Crispin, he has an enchanted chest or wardrobe. Someone got hurt when they accidentally bumped into it. Probably some kind of Essence trap."

  "Nothing we can't handle," Vyxara assured him. "And the rest of the plan?"

  "As soon as Faustus is gone, I will approach his room. I will weave an Essence pattern that will warn me if anyone approaches." Valentina drew the complex pattern on her parchment. "Then I will open the door – you said you knew a better way than the one I tried to learn the other day?"

  "Yes, it's an old trick. The university's locks are all built on the same principle. We just have to..." Vyxara suddenly fell silent. "Careful, your friend is coming."

  Valentina looked up and saw Innogen coming towards her. She hastily slipped the parchment under one of her books.

  "Val!" Innogen dropped into the chair next to her. "I've been looking for you all day. Are you feeling better?"

  "Yes, much better," Valentina lied. In truth, she was so nervous that she felt sick. "The... the weekend was good for me."

  Innogen smiled knowingly. "I can imagine that. Hobkin seems to be very talented if I can believe you."

  Valentina blushed. "Can we please not talk about this here?"

  "You're no fun," Innogen laughed softly. "I was actually going to ask you if you'd like to study with me and Crispin tomorrow night? Professor Emberfell has indicated that the next exam will be particularly difficult."

  Valentina felt her stomach tighten. "I'm sorry, I... I already have plans."

  "Oh." Innogen looked disappointed. "With Hobkin?"

  "No, I... have to do something for Professor Horne," Valentina mumbled. She hated lying to her friend, but she couldn't possibly tell her the truth.

  Innogen frowned, but said nothing. She had stopped criticizing her on the subject since their discussion about Valentina's 'arrangement' with Professor Horne, but Valentina could see that it still bothered her.

  "Another time then," Innogen finally said and stood up. "Take care of yourself, Val."

  When Innogen had left, Valentina lowered her head to the tabletop. "You're doing the right thing," Vyxara whispered. "Remember what's at stake."

  "I know," Valentina murmured. "But sometimes I wonder..."

  "No doubts now," Vyxara interrupted her sharply. "We have a plan. We have the skills. And tomorrow night, we will finally put a stop to Faustus."

  Valentina nodded silently. She pulled out the parchment again and stared at her notes. The plan was good. It would work. It had to work.

  By the time Matilda Ravencroft began shooing the last students out of the library an hour later, Valentina had gone over every step of her plan umpteen times. She rolled up the parchment and put it in her bag.

  "Do you feel ready?" asked Vyxara.

  "No," Valentina answered honestly. "But that doesn't matter, does it?"

  She felt Vyxara's approval like a warm tingle on the back of her neck.

  ~

  The next evening, a fine drizzle hung in the air, making the Essence lamps look like hazy fireflies. Valentina crouched in a dark alcove of the cloister, from where she had a perfect view of the entrance to Faustus' residential wing. Her heart was pounding loudly.

  "Breathe easy, little Weaver," Vyxara admonished. "You're shaking like a leaf."

  Valentina tried to get her nerves under control. A group of students walked past, engrossed in a heated discussion about Professor Emberfell's last lecture. None of them noticed her in her hiding place.

  The bell of the Burning Tower tolled for the evening. Where was the messenger? Valentina felt her fingernails digging into her palms.

  At last she saw a figure hurrying through the rain towards the entrance. It was Hobkin's friend, clad in a soaked cowl. He knocked on Faustus' door.

  Valentina activated her Essence hearing ability. The sounds around her became sharper, clearer.

  "... a message from Madame Rosalie from the 'Red Swan'," she heard the messenger say. His voice trembled convincingly. "She would like to apologize to you, Master Boarfend. She is expecting you."

  A moment of absolute silence followed. Then she heard Faustus' voice, hoarse with suppressed excitement: "What, she wants to apologize? To me?"

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  "Yes, Master Boarfend. She said she made a mistake. She wants to clear things up personally, if you understand."

  Valentina held her breath. Hobkin's friend was really embellishing the story. Would Faustus fall for it?

  "Ha!" Faustus' laughter echoed through the corridor. "Well, finally this wench realizes that you can't just throw a Boarfend out like that! Wait here, I'll just change into something better."

  The door closed. Valentina relaxed a little. He had taken the bait.

  A few minutes later, the messenger appeared again, this time followed by Faustus in an expensive velvet coat. His hair was freshly combed and he had obviously put on loads of perfume – the sweet scent wafted right up to Valentina's hiding place.

  "Take me there, lad," he ordered the messenger cockily. "And on the way, you will tell me exactly what else Madame Rosalie said."

  Valentina watched as the two of them moved away, Faustus with a pompous expression, the messenger nodding submissively. When they had disappeared around the corner, she waited another ten long breaths.

  "Now," urged Vyxara. "Hurry, but be careful. We have to approach his room from the other side."

  Valentina scurried out of her hiding place and hurried through the dark corridors. The rain had driven most of the students into their rooms, but she still had to hide from time to time.

  When she finally reached the other side of the residential wing, she was slightly out of breath. She peeked around the corner. The corridor outside Faustus' room was deserted.

  "Perfect," purred Vyxara. "Time for the next step."

  Valentina took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows.

  With trembling fingers, Valentina began to weave the alarm pattern. The Essence threads shimmered faintly in the twilight of the corridor as she wove them into a complex web and let them float to the floor.

  "Careful," warned Vyxara. "The pattern must be invisible. Concentrate on the Schate Essence."

  Valentina nodded silently and increased the amount of Schate. The shimmering threads faded until they were almost invisible. The pattern would warn her if anyone approached.

  "Well done. Now the lock."

  Valentina stepped outside Faustus' door. The Essence lock was of better quality than the others in the residential wing – of course the spoiled bastard had bought himself an extra lock.

  "Watch out," whispered Vyxara. "This is the hard part. You have to weave the Luvt Essence exactly as I show you..."

  Under Vyxara's guidance, Valentina began to weave an elaborate pattern. The Essence threads intertwined and slithered through the lock like snakes, groping for the mechanism of the lock. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried to control the erratic patterns.

  Vyxara gave her instructions. "One is binding..." Vyxara murmured. "Click. Still binding. Nothing on two. Three is binding..."

  Finally, she felt something give way. The lock opened with a soft click.

  Valentina pushed open the door and slipped inside. The stench hit her like a blow – a mixture of dirty laundry, stale food and the sweet perfume that Faustus used in large quantities.

  "By all the eleven tyrants of hell," groaned Vyxara. "Is this guy living on a garbage heap?"

  The room was a mess. Expensive items of clothing were strewn everywhere, many obviously dirty. Scrolls of parchment and empty Essence bottles were piled up on the ornately carved desk next to the moldy remains of several meals. A precious tapestry with the Boarfend coat of arms – a brown boar on a silver background beneath a golden cup and a golden beehive on a green background – hung askew, one of its tails stuffed into a half-drunk, pot-bellied wine bottle.

  The contrast between the obviously valuable furniture and its shabby treatment was striking. A magnificent four-poster bed made of dark wood was barely recognizable under a mountain of pillows and untidy sheets. The massive bookshelves contained more empty bottles than books.

  Valentina could hardly believe it – he owned all these precious and beautiful things and treated them like garbage.

  Amidst all the chaos, Valentina discovered personal items that gave her an insight into Faustus' character. A broken hand mirror. Letters from his father, their seals torn open as if he had crumpled them up angrily. A small collection of obscene drawings, lying openly and shamelessly on the bed.

  "Concentrate," Vyxara admonished her. "We're looking for the cupboard."

  Valentina tore herself away from her observations and searched around the room. There – in the corner stood a solid oak cupboard which, unlike everything else in the room, was spotlessly clean.

  She stepped closer and immediately saw the Essence patterns surrounding the wardrobe. They were subtly woven, but Valentina could recognize their dangerous structure.

  "Do you see them?" asked Vyxara. "They're not ordinary protective patterns. There's corrupted Essence in them."

  Valentina nodded. The patterns had a strange, morbid sheen, like oil on water. She remembered Crispin's story about the injured student.

  "Be careful," warned Vyxara. "One false step and these traps could cause more than a few scratches."

  Valentina took a deep breath and began to analyze the protection patterns. She had to proceed methodically. One mistake could be fatal.

  The rain drummed against the window panes as she examined the patterns closely, measuring their geometry.

  The protective patterns around the wardrobe pulsed like a sick heart. Valentina studied their layout, trying to understand the logic behind their arrangement. The corrupted Essence gave them an unnatural glow that made her eyes ache after a while.

  "Do you see the higher-level pattern?" asked Vyxara. "It's like a spiral that winds inwards. But watch out – there are false paths woven into it."

  Valentina nodded. She could see the deception, subtle forks in the Essence web that led to deadly traps.

  "We have to work from the outside in," explained Vyxara. "Dissolve each layer individually. Start with the outer ring."

  With sweaty hands, Valentina began to weave. Her fingers moved carefully through the air as she tried to neutralize the vile patterns. The corrupted Essence felt wrong, like rotten silk beneath her fingers.

  The first layer dissolved. Valentina exhaled with relief.

  "Don't get careless," warned Vyxara. "The next layer is more treacherous."

  The demon was right. The second pattern was more complex, the corrupt Essence more densely woven. It took Valentina almost ten minutes to find a safe path through it.

  Outside, the wind howled around the towers of the university. A sudden noise in the corridor made Valentina flinch, but her alarm pattern remained calm – perhaps just a cat.

  The third layer was the most dangerous. The Essence threads were so tightly interwoven that the slightest mistake would cause the entire structure to collapse.

  "Careful," whispered Vyxara. "Very carefully... NO, DO NOT-"

  Too late. Valentina's fingers trembled for a split second. A thread of Essence lashed out at her like a whip. She backed away, but not fast enough. A sharp pain shot through her arm.

  "Damn it!" she hissed. Blood seeped through the torn sleeve of her dress.

  "Hold still," Vyxara ordered. "It's just a cut, not deep. Concentrate now – the pattern is unstable!"

  Valentina gritted her teeth and ignored the throbbing pain in her arm. With trembling hands, she stabilized the Essence braid before it could collapse.

  After a few more tense minutes, the last layer dissolved. The cupboard now stood unprotected in front of her.

  Valentina opened the door with a pounding heart. The smell of corrupt Essence hit her, sweet and acrid at the same time.

  Lined up neatly in the cupboard were several dozen vials of an oily, shimmering liquid. The corrupt Essence inside pulsed faintly, like sick heart blood.

  "More than we thought," muttered Vyxara. "That bastard must have bought a whole supply of it."

  But Valentina's attention was caught by something else. On a velvet-covered pedestal in the middle of the cupboard lay a bronze cube, covered all over with engraved eyes. The Eye of Deceit.

  The artifact radiated a palpable malevolence. The engraved eyes seemed to move to follow her as she stepped closer.

  "Be careful," warned Vyxara. "These things are dangerous. One wrong move and it could drive you mad."

  Valentina hesitated. Her arm was throbbing painfully and the blood was already beginning to dry on her dress. She had to hurry – they were running out of time.

  "How do we manipulate it?" she whispered.

  "Take one of the corrupted Essence vials," Vyxara instructed her. "We'll use his own weapon against him."

  With trembling fingers, Valentina reached for one of the vials. The corrupt Essence inside felt wrong, as if it were reaching for her soul through her skin.

  She placed the vial next to the Eye of Deceit and took a deep breath. This was the most difficult part of her plan.

  She could feel Vyxara's grim smile in her mind. "Pray to your Martyr that nothing goes wrong."

  With sweaty hands, Valentina began to weave the bizarre patterns that Vyxara had taught her over the last few weeks. The corrupted Essence in the vial reacted immediately, writhing like a trapped snake under her touch.

  "Slowly," warned Vyxara. "Remember – weave against the current, not with it. Like the knot in reality."

  Valentina nodded in concentration. Her fingers moved through the air in precise patterns, forming impossible geometries. The Eye of Deceit began to pulsate, the engraved eyes rolling wildly in their bronze sockets.

  Suddenly she felt something give way. But not in the way it should.

  "STOP!" screamed Vyxara in her head. "The corrupt Essence – it's leaking through!"

  Valentina saw it too. Fine black veins began to run through the ambient Essence of the room, like ink in clear water. The sweet, foul smell grew stronger.

  "What should I do?" she whispered in a panic.