While White Candle never referred to themselves as an elite magic guild, this is what they were in the eyes of others. Not only because of their distinguished history stretching back to the rebuilding of Rios, but also their limited membership. At no point has the guild ever exceeded more than fifty members, not counting apprentices; they feel that character as well as talent make a great magister. This mindset, combined with a vigorous desire to continue expanding their knowledge, has ensured that White Candle remains Rios' foremost magic guild to this very day.

  Excerpt from 'Magic Guilds of Rios: The Age of Enlightenment'

  “That sounds like quite the mess,” Dovell said as he stared at the top of the White Candle, his hand above his eyes to shield them from the morning sun. He and Guard-captain Uven Snek were standing at the centre of Candle Square, waiting for the operation to begin.

  “It was a mess,” Uven replied, “and it still is. It's going to take days to sort out exactly who is responsible for what, and until the tomes we found are confirmed genuine by an independent party, we can't even be certain it wasn't all a set-up by the Daughters.”

  Dovell scoffed. “You say that even after Archmagister Yerwede forced his way out like you just told me? Before vanishing like a ray of light? He's guilty, clear as day. Even if he was set up.”

  “That's not our decision to make.”

  Dovell glanced at the Second Lance guard-captain with a raised eyebrow.

  Uven huffed. “They're guilty as sin, of course, but you know what I mean.”

  “Hmm,” Dovell mused. “Does this mean Callium's entire inner circle is gone now?”

  “It seems so,” Uven said. “Archmagister Yerwede fled and Magisters Navial and Akkazon are also missing. Salfazon and Tennenbrand were both arrested. The first at the ring mansion, the other at the Imperator.”

  “And Lee and Hadwinagonn are dead,” Dovell added. “That's all of them, alright.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily; he had slept little the past night. “So what happens now?”

  “The house arrest for both Callium and the Daughters will be extended indefinitely until the King says otherwise. The eskadron of soldiers called in from Neroshi arrived yesterday evening, so the militia finally has enough people to keep the King's peace properly.”

  “How many of them are in the Amber Quarter?”

  “About two hundred.”

  “That many?” Dovell said with slight shock. “That's almost all of them.”

  “Tees didn't want to take any chances.”

  “I understand that, but what is he expecting to happen?”

  This time it was Uven who scoffed, resuming his usual blunt manner. “What do you expect to happen?”

  Dovell did not answer. Instead he looked around the square and observed the many men gathered there. Most of them were members of the city watch, their ocean blue and silver cloaks billowing in the gusty morning wind. The rest were dressed in purple as members of Second, Fourth and Fifth Lance, with a smattering of rainbow colours making up a handful of magistrae from Galond. Third and Sixth Lance were already inside, and Seventh Lance, recently created from a mixture of Third Lance members and the most promising young trainees, was patrolling the outskirts of the block. Only First Lance remained at the Winged Keep, sworn as it was to stay at the King's side at all times. There had not been such a densely concentrated force of military might in Rios since the Twenty-Year War.

  Uven is right, though. What do I expect to happen?

  There was only one thing he was certain would happen. The dark assailants would make their move today. Nevertheless, he had no idea what their plan or even their goal was. Equally,

  he had no idea what was going to happen at the sanctum itself.

  “Uven,” Dovell said. “You saw those tomes, right? Did they seem real to you?”

  Uven shrugged. “What do I know about things like that? Spelltomes are all the same to me. Dusty books filled with gibberish. I only saw one directly, the one the magistra who triggered the chest trap was holding. After that, the entire situation got tossed into the tempest.” He eyed Dovell. “Why do you ask?”

  “If they are real, then it means Callium was inside the sanctum already.”

  “So? You already suspected that. It was your notion that the ghast came from inside the sanctum.”

  “If the tomes are real, it means that—even despite the ghast—the sanctum was safe enough to loot. That might make our job easier.”

  “I hope so,” Uven said. He pointed towards the White Candle main entrance, where a figure had appeared. “There's Tees. It looks like we're starting.”

  Dovell nodded and signalled Nissek, who was standing nearby. Nissek acknowledged the gesture and walked towards the Galond magistrae.

  “Good luck in there,” Uven said. “Watch out for spiders.”

  You have the more dangerous part to play, I'd say. But he did not voice that thought, merely thanking Uven and then making his way towards the sanctum with the rest of his lance.

  The evening before there had been a great argument about who was going to enter the sanctum. Dovell had wanted his lance to stay outside on account of the dark assailants, whom he considered the real danger, yet ultimately he had been convinced that Fifth Lance had the most suited members for the task. As a compromise, Dovell had demanded that only they would enter the sanctum before anyone else. There would be no point in risking any more people.

  The corridor in front of the sanctum entrance was mostly empty. Only Renn and two of the newly assigned recruits to Third Lance were present.

  “Renn, what's the situation?” Tees asked as he gestured towards the Galond magistrae to take up position.

  “Nothing's happened, sir” Renn said. “Neither inside nor outside.”

  Dovell looked at the crystal above the door. The red light had faded completely. If it wasn't for the barrier still covering the entrance, one might think the wards had already failed.

  He stretched out his hand towards the entrance and touched the invisible wall that was indeed still there.

  “Dovell?” Tees asked with a raised eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Dovell said, retracting his hand. “Not yet.” He turned to face Tees. “How do we proceed?”

  “Sixth Lance has spread itself out over the entire tower, covering all choke points. Third Lance will remain here and act as your backup should you need it.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” Dovell said.

  “You still believe there will be another attack?” Tees asked.

  Dovell smiled grimly. “I don't know if they will attack us, but they will be doing something. That I know.”

  “I hope you're wrong,” Tees replied. He gestured to one of the Galond magistrae, a man with a pointed red beard wearing a robe that looked like it had been dragged through a dye shop. “Magister Vraveyin, it's all yours.”

  Magister Tijl Vraveyin nodded sagely and took up position to the left of the sanctum entrance. Another magister joined him on the right-hand side.

  “Drain the top ley line first,” Tijl instructed in the heavily accented Rion spoken in Galond. “Then switch to the third. If you get tired, switch again.”

  Everyone waited in silence as the magisters slowly drained the remaining ?ther charge from the wards. This time there would be no cautious probing to see if the sanctum was safe to enter. They would lose too much time doing that, and it was unlikely that anything would have changed since they last tested it.

  “The first ley line is drained,” the magister on the right-hand side announced.

  “Already?” Tijl asked. He ran a scrying stone past the entrance. “That's surprising.”

  “Is there a problem?” Tees asked.

  “No, no,” the magister said hurriedly. “It's just that I expected there to be more charge left based on the pressure readings we conducted earlier.”

  “Cast bulwarks and Alion's Aura,” Dovell instructed.

  “Third ley line is drained,” the other magister said.

  “Checking the barrier now,” Tijl said, moving his arm around the doorpost.

  It went inside without incident.

  “Fifth Lance, move out,” Dovell commanded.

  They entered the small doorway single file, and Dovell immediately opened the door that led to the inner part of the sanctum.

  Inside he saw a dark corridor that ran away from them in two directions. The air smelled stale.

  “Light the sun sigils here,” Dovell commanded. “No mobile lights; I want everyone to keep at least one hand free. The other holds your sword.”

  The sound of blades being unsheathed echoed through the empty corridor. Dovell drew his arming sword as well, having left Bellphon behind at the barracks. The greatsword was ill-suited to a confined area like this. Both in spells and combat.

  “Left or right?” Nissek asked.

  “They should lead to the same place, so split up,” Dovell replied, turning his head from left to right. “Bastian, Harra, you are with me. We'll take the right. Check every door you pass before moving on.”

  Dovell and his two men carefully advanced through the corridor, lighting sun sigils as they went.

  “A door, sir,” Bastian said, pointing to an iron-barred door on the right. “Can't be a big room if I remember the surrounding layout properly.”

  “Open it.”

  Bastian took up position next to it and pushed down on the handle. The door did not budge.

  “It's locked.”

  “Crack it,” Dovell said as he stared down the dark corridor. “Harra, keep watch. If there are more ghasts here, the spell will draw their attention.”

  With a loud snap, Bastian forced the lock and opened the door. The musty smell of old paper wafted into the corridor.

  After some searching, Bastian lit a sun sigil in the room and Dovell looked inside. Shelves, both free-standing and along the walls, filled the room. Each was crammed with countless books, random stacks of paper and open crates that held various items.

  “There is nobody here, sir,” Bastian said. “Just a bunch of stuff.”

  “Sweep the place with a scrying stone. Include the floor and the ceiling,” Dovell instructed.

  Harra and Bastian went to work as Dovell stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the dark corridor ahead.

  A loud snapping sound resounded through the corridor.

  Looks like Nissek found a locked door as well.

  “No sign of any spells, sir,” Bastian said. “The only thing I found is that the fluctuations are very slightly higher near the outer wall.”

  “Residual volatility from the wards,” Harra said.

  “Okay,” Dovell said. “Leave a warning sigil on the door. We move on.”

  Several paces further, after Bastian had charged another sun sigil, Dovell noticed something peculiar. The corridor wall on the left-hand side suddenly ended. There was no door; only a large hole with what appeared to be a sizeable room behind.

  What's this? A hole in the wall?

  He beckoned Harra forward, who took position at the edge of the hole and carefully looked around the corner into the room. Dovell and Bastian lined up behind him.

  “What do you see?” Dovell asked.

  “The central chamber,” Harra said as he moved his head from left to right. “I can't see the far edges of the room, but it appears empty.”

  “Any bodies?”

  “None that I can see.”

  Dovell wasn't surprised. If there had been corpses present, the stench would have been unbearable. Instead, the air was free from any smell apart from the musty scent of paper and the dust that tickled his nose.

  He tapped Harra on the shoulder. “Light up a sun and roll it inside the room.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Harra squatted down and started rummaging through his pouch. Dovell leaned over him and looked around the corner himself. As Harra said, there was a large empty chamber there with the exception of some vague angular shapes along the edges of the room.

  Just some bookshelves?

  Harra rolled the sun stone across the floor, illuminating the surroundings. The shapes lit up and confirmed Dovell's suspicion. Placed around the chamber were several bookcases, a single desk, a lectern and some crates. All positioned against the walls.

  It's like they pushed everything aside to make room for something, but what? He ran his gloved hand past the edge of entrance to the room and noticed it was perfectly smooth, as if polished like a mirror. And where did this hole come from? It may have been a while since I was last here, but I've no doubt this is not supposed to be here.

  “Harra, throw in another sun stone towards the other wall.”

  The second sun stone revealed two more bookcases, but nothing more. The sanctum's central chamber was as empty as it appeared.

  “Now what, sir?” Bastian asked. “Charge the sun sigils inside?”

  He seems rather calm, Dovell noted. That's good. He had been worried that Bastian might crack under pressure again, after his last encounter with Hertwolf's Demon, but it appeared the experience had strengthened him instead.

  “Yes,” Dovell answered. “Let's go in. But keep a watchful eye and ear. I don't want a ghast to sneak up on us.”

  Dovell walked towards the centre of the room while Harra and Bastian started to light up the sun sigils in the walls, scrying stones in hand.

  Suddenly, he slipped. His right foot slid forward without any friction, causing him to lose balance and fall backwards. The arming sword escaped his grasp and clattered on the stone floor.

  What the...

  “Sir!” Bastian exclaimed, running over. “Are you alright, sir?”

  “I'm fine,” Dovell said as he sat up, more annoyed than anything else. “I just slipped.”

  He bent forward and saw that there was a wide, shallow pit in the middle of the floor; he had slid down one of its short slopes.

  Another hole? He had not noticed it before, as the sun stones Harra had thrown had both missed it.

  Bending forward even more, Dovell reached out and felt the slope with his hand. Like the hole in the wall behind him, it was perfectly smooth. The hole itself was only a hand deep, with a large, flat and even surface at the bottom.

  “That's odd,” Dovell said.

  “What, sir?”

  “There is another smooth-cut hole here. Just like the one behind us.” He turned around and noted that the hole in the wall was about four vors wide.

  He climbed back onto his feet and slowly turned to look at the entire chamber in the now abundant light. Apart from the hole in the wall, there were two doors. One only a small distance away from the hole, and one on the opposite end of the room. Both likely led to the circular corridor that rounded the oval-shaped chamber.

  That hole wasn't made on purpose.

  “Sir?” Harra said, holding a signal stone. “Nissek and the others have reached the door that leads in here.”

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  “Tell them to come in,” Dovell said.

  A moment later the door on the far wall swung open, and Rooy stuck his head around the corner.

  “Report,” Dovell ordered. “Did you find anything?”

  “Nothing of note, sir,” Rooy said as he entered the chamber with Nissek and Tobiac in close pursuit.

  “This place is... empty,” Nissek said with a disturbed look on his face.

  “We noticed that too,” Dovell said before pointing at the hole in the floor. “Take a look at these holes and tell me what you think.”

  As the others inspected the room and finished lighting the sun sigils, Dovell wandered over towards the furniture along the edges of the room. Looking at the desk, he immediately noted that the dust on it had been disturbed. Two distinct layers were visible on the surface. One light, one dark.

  Someone was here some time after the magistrae disappeared. Callium, no doubt.

  “Check for dust prints,” Dovell said as he moved on towards the nearest bookcase. “It seems someone has been here before.”

  “Found some already, sir,” Tobiac said, squatting near the wall. “These are footprints, to be certain. Some kind of soft boot, definitely not one of ours.”

  “Good,” Dovell said. “Nissek, any ideas on these holes?”

  Nissek cocked his head. “Not really, sir; I never saw or read about anything that could leave such a smooth surface.” He squatted down near the hole in the floor and ran his hand over the bottom. “As slick as oiled glass.”

  “So what made it?”

  “I'm at a loss, sir. All I can say is that whatever it was, the sanctum wards stopped it from expanding further, hence the flat bottoms.” He pointed to both the hole in the floor and to another one in the ceiling that Dovell had missed. “But if I had to guess, based on the emptiness of the room and the dyad of the ghast we encountered...”

  “A Void spell,” Dovell said, finishing Nissek's sentence.

  “That would be my guess, sir,” Nissek said. “It would also explain the lack of bodies or anything else for that matter.”

  Dovell's face turned grim. Being swallowed by the void was a common fear for people who were scared of magic. Ironic that it actually happened here.

  “Let's leave it at that for now,” Dovell said. “We still need to secure the rest of the sanctum.” He turned to Harra, who was walking around the room. “What does the scrying read?”

  “Nothing of note, sir.”

  “Let's move on then.”

  A few moments later Dovell, Bastian and Harra again began to advance slowly through the corridor, after confirming that the door a small distance away from the hole in the wall indeed led into that same corridor.

  It wasn't long until another door appeared on the right-hand side, this one wide open.

  “Harra,” Dovell whispered, gesturing towards the door. He didn't know for certain why he was whispering, as anything inside the sanctum would have heard them from the moment they cracked open the first lock.

  Perhaps because we are nearing the end? Or is it because nothing has happened yet?

  The silent guard leaned around the corner and then quickly withdrew his head, raising two fingers in the air.

  Tension surged through Dovell. Two people?!

  Harra flattened his hand and waved it left and right once.

  Dovell relaxed slightly. Two corpses.

  Harra stepped aside, allowing Dovell into the room.

  The chamber wasn't very big; only five vors across. In the centre of the room stood an odd-looking device, but that wasn't what Dovell focused on.

  The corpses were lying side by side against the left-hand wall; one slumped sideways against it, the other on the ground. A large white cloth almost covered their bodies.

  Bastian entered the room as well, activating the nearest sun sigil.

  Dovell gasped when the light illuminated the bodies. The large white cloth wasn't a cloth at all. It's a spider's web. The silk shimmered with a silver hue in the sigil's light.

  Dovell spun around, checking all the walls and the ceiling to make certain there wasn't a ghast lurking in a dark crevice anywhere. He immediately noted the various discolourations and changes in texture in the stone walls. Signs of severe ?ther leakage or possibly even fissures.

  Looks like the wards contained it, though.

  Besides that and the two bodies, there was nothing noteworthy.

  “Bastian, watch the door,” Dovell said as he squatted down next to the bodies.

  “Our ghast's work, looks like,” Harra said.

  “Indeed,” Dovell agreed, using his sword to move some of the silk aside. Both of the bodies were completely desiccated, their skin heavily wrinkled and leathery. Their eyes were gone, leaving only empty sockets. He noticed that both of the bodies were wearing white robes with a visible soft-blue seam.

  “Magistrae of White Candle,” Dovell murmured softly.

  “It seems not all of them were swallowed by the void after all,” Bastian said, his gaze flicking back and forth between the corridor and the two bodies.

  “No,” Dovell agreed, “but that might have been the better fate.”

  “Sir,” Harra said, pointing to a bump in the silk that suggested something hard was beneath.

  Dovell used his sword to remove the silk, revealing the handle of a dagger.

  A magister carrying a weapon? He pulled the silk further back, then noticed that the weapon was not being carried, but was firmly lodged into the corpse's abdomen instead.

  “It wasn't the ghast that killed these men,” Dovell said.

  Harra nodded slowly. “It got to them not long after, though. Before they started to decompose. Hence the lack of smell.”

  Dovell pondered what this could mean as he stared at the dagger's steel pommel. Was there a fight here? If so, who was the attacker? Another magister, or perhaps someone else?

  “What's that thing?” Bastian asked, pointing at the device in the centre of the room.

  “An old ?ther pump,” Dovell replied. “They used it to empower wards before the discovery of runes and sigils. That thing is probably as old as the tower itself.”

  Another loud crack echoed through the corridor. The second half of the lance had found another locked door.

  “Ghast!” a voice yelled.

  As if struck by lightning, Dovell jumped to his feet and started down the corridor, the other two following closely behind. Light appeared in the distance and revealed Tobiac standing in the doorway of a room with his arm outstretched. Behind him were Nissek and Rooy; Rooy was casting something.

  “What happened? Where is the ghast?” Dovell said, checking every corner.

  “Inside,” Nissek said, his expression tense, but not overly so. “It's not as bad as Tobiac made out, fortunately.”

  “Says you,” Tobiac said. “That thing scared me half to death, suddenly jumping out like that.”

  Dovell leaned forward to look past Tobiac, the smell of decay immediately hitting him.

  Inside the room, just like the room they had just left, lay a group of silk-covered bodies close to the door. Only here, seated upon those bodies, sat a spider ghast with its forelegs menacingly raised at the sword Tobiac pointed at it. It was exactly the same as the one they encountered at the forge, with the same dark-grey crystal-like body, yet with one crucial difference.

  This ghast was only the size of a large apple, which made it still much larger than the cellar spider it spawned from; but it was a far cry from the great monstrosity they had destroyed almost two weeks ago.

  “Barrier is ready,” Rooy said.

  “Back up slowly, Tobiac,” Nissek said, placing his hand on Tobiac's shoulder.

  Tobiac took a step back and retracted his arm slowly and deliberately. The spider lowered its forelegs, but kept facing towards the door. Its many glass eyes watched every movement.

  “Roll in a sun stone before you raise the barrier,” Dovell said. “I want to know if there are any more of those things.”

  The moment the sun stone rolled across the floor, the spider shifted its attention and jumped towards it, grabbing it between its forelegs.

  “Barrier is up,” Rooy said as he tapped the faint yellow force that now hovered inside the doorway.

  The spider ghast's shadow danced across the wall as it moved the sun stone around between its legs. No other ghasts appeared.

  “Looks like it's hungry for ?ther,” Nissek said.

  Apart from the corpses, the room contained shelves with various bottles and small containers placed on them. In the back of the room stood a rune forge, the light of the moving sun sigil making a parade of shadows behind the forge weaving beams.

  “Did you secure the rest of the corridor?” Dovell asked Nissek.

  “We did. Nothing there but two meeting rooms. This is the last chamber.”

  “Very well then,” Dovell said, reaching inside his tunic. “I'll signal Tees and tell them it's safe to come in. I want men in every room, especially the central one and the ones with the corpses.”

  “You found some bodies as well, sir?” Nissek asked.

  “We did,” Dovell said. “One with a blade sticking out of his gut.”

  Nissek inhaled sharply. “I don't like the sound of that.”

  “Me neither,” Dovell said as he channelled ?ther into the signal stone. Sanctum secure. Send men. The confirmation signal came back almost immediately.

  He squatted down in front of the door and looked at the corpses. There were three of them, all seated against the wall. Like the corpses in the other room, they wore robes with the White Candle colours.

  More victims of violence?

  The silk that covered the bodies was only a third of what they found in the other room. The bodies themselves weren't desiccated but decomposed, hence the smell.

  “The door was locked, right?” Dovell asked.

  “Tight as a drum,” Nissek answered. “As expected for a room with a rune forge.” He pointed at the device that covered the entire back wall.

  “Would it be safe to say that the bigger ghast never entered this room?”

  “That would indeed be a safe assumption, sir,” Nissek replied.

  “The door to the room we found was open, so I think the corpses there were fed upon by the bigger one.”

  “Speaking of ghasts,” Rooy said, pointing at the ghast that was now attempting to eat the runestone. “What should we do with that thing? Burn it?”

  “No,” Dovell said. “I don't want to risk destroying evidence, and that includes that spider there. The parts we recovered from the other ghast deteriorated so fast we couldn't discover anything about the spell that created it. We need it in one piece and alive.”

  “What if there are more of these things?” Tobiac asked. “If they come in all sizes, we could easily have missed some.”

  “If they are attracted to ?ther like this one, they'll be all over the sun sigils we lit,” Nissek said.

  “Yes, but keep a lookout regardless,” Dovell said. “Tobiac, Harra, go greet the men of Third Lance and inform them of the current situation.”

  He turned back towards the little ghast. “Any ideas on how to capture that thing?”

  “If it stays distracted like that, it shouldn't be too hard,” Rooy said. “We can put some kind of container over it and capture it like that.”

  “Magic guilds use special glass jars to contain small ?ther beings,” Nissek said. “White Candle no doubt owns some.”

  “There was a storage room near the entrance,” Dovell said, rising to his feet. “If there are such jars, they are probably there. Nissek, I'll leave it in your hands. Have Rooy help you.”

  He turned to Bastian, who looked pale and was holding his nose against the stench. “We're going back to the other room. Let's see if we can find out who those two corpses were, and scry the room as well.”

  As they walked back, Dovell wondered what was happening outside. He still felt tense, and he couldn't shake the sensation that he had forgotten something important. It was the bad kind of tension; like something in his mind might break if he strained himself too hard in some way.

  Seeing the two corpses again snapped him out of his musings and refocused his attention. Finish this first. Worry about everything else later.

  As Bastian scried the room, Dovell removed more of the silk from the corpses, focusing on the one slumped against the wall. Let's see if this person has any signs of trauma.

  Such a sign quickly revealed itself. A dark, rust-brown stain near his lower chest.

  “Is that blood, sir?” Bastian said as he passed the scrying stone over the corpses.

  “It is,” Dovell replied. “This man was likely stabbed as well, but it's odd.”

  “Because magistrae don't use weapons?”

  “That, but also because it seems they were both stabbed from the front. If it was a surprise attack, you would expect them to be stabbed from behind instead.”

  “Maybe they turned around just in time?”

  “Possible, or perhaps they knew their attacker and weren't expecting it.” Dovell removed some silk thread from his sword and sheathed it. “No matter; that's for the healers to figure out.”

  “Sir?” Bastian called from the ?ther pump, “I'm getting a reading here.”

  Dovell raised an eyebrow. “From the pump?” he said, stepping closer to look at the scrying stone Bastian was holding.

  “It seems so, sir, but I never saw anything like this before. All the elements are equally excited.”

  Dovell narrowed his eyes as he looked at the many colours dancing over the scrying stone. Green, yellow, orange, red, purple, blue. He's right, all the elements are there.

  “Perhaps it was running?” Bastian suggested.

  “I don't see how,” Dovell said with pensive look.

  “Is there a problem?” a voice came from behind.

  Dovell turned as Guard-captain Arwoude stepped into the room, followed closely by a recruit.

  “Nothing urgent,” Dovell replied. “Just another mystery. What's the situation outside?” he asked despite himself.

  “Calm,” Tees said. “There is no sign of the dark assailants anywhere.”

  Dovell nodded slowly . Hearing that should have made him relax, but instead he felt a pressure behind his eyes that only seemed to increase.

  “I heard you found another ghast,” Tees continued.

  “We did, but it's a far less impressive specimen this time. Nissek and Rooy are dealing with it.”

  Tees glanced sideways at the corpses before quickly returning his gaze to Dovell.

  That probably made him remember Ristyk. He was covered with silk as well.

  “What's the problem with the pump?” Tees asked, obviously looking for a distraction.

  “It shows signs of activity,” Bastian said, holding out his scrying stone to the Third Lance guard-captain.

  “That is indeed strange,” Tees said. He approached the pump and bent towards it, inspecting it from all sides.

  “This pump was indeed running,” he said after a few moments. He pointed towards a large lever at the rear of the pump. “This lever is in the active position.”

  “That can't be,” Dovell said. “There hasn't been any amcryta for thirty years at least.”

  “Let's see for ourselves then,” Tees said, opening a small hatch in the foot of the pump.

  “What's amcryta?” Bastian asked. “I never heard of that during training.”

  “No, you wouldn't,” Dovell said. “Amcryta is any transmogrif that slowly decays over time and emits ?ther while doing so. It's only created during m?lstroms as far as anyone knows, so right after the Second Bane there was an ample supply. Back in the day they used it to power ?ther pumps like these to provide the same service sigils do now.”

  “The decay does not stop, however,” Tees added as he ran his gloved hand over the inside of the pump. “It's one of the reasons why several generations ago magic guilds were so desperate to find other means of remotely empowering their spells, leading eventually to Thonill's discovery of sigil weaving. It's also the reason why guard training no longer mentions the stuff.”

  “Because there shouldn't be any left in existence,” Dovell said. “At least, not here in Gerios.”

  Despite his words, he carefully watched Tees' movements. What if there is?

  “No amcryta,” Tees said, lowering his face to look inside the pump. “It looks like they attached it to the sigil that empowered the wards instead. I can see some ley lines here. There was work done on this pump. Recently too.”

  “That makes even less sense,” Dovell said, bewildered. “Why would you use charge from a sigil to power an ?ther pump that does the exact same thing as that sigil to begin with?”

  Tees scratched his chin. “You're right. That doesn't make any sense.” He turned towards Bastian. “Show me those readings again.”

  Tees stared at them for a while, frowning before shaking his head. “I'm out of my depth here.”

  “That makes two of us,” Dovell said. “What about those Galond magistrae? Are they any good?”

  Tees smirked. “Good? Yes. Trustworthy? Doubtful. I told them to stay in the lower lounge for the time being.”

  “I think we should let one of them in anyway to take a look at this,” Dovell said. “Apart from this pump and the ghast in the last room, there is nothing magical left inside the sanctum.”

  Lost in thought, Tees didn't reply, cocking his head and running his hand over the length of the pump.

  “Tees?”

  With a slight jolt, Tees retracted his arm. “I was just thinking,” he said with an apologetic tone, “what if this pump doesn't do what we think it does? But you're right; we need a magistrae for that.” He turned towards the recruit. “Olann, go back to the lounge and bring Magister Vraveyin here. Explain to him what we found.”

  “Sir,” the young man said, pivoting around and then almost crashing into someone in the corridor as he bolted out the door.

  “Hey, watch it,” Rooy grumbled. “You don't want me to drop this.”

  “I'm sorry,” the recruit stammered as he eyed the glass jar that Rooy was holding. Inside sat the spider ghast, still clutching the sun stone with its legs.

  That's one less thing to worry about. “You got it, I see?”

  “It was surprisingly easy,” Rooy said, raising the jar. “It didn't pay any attention to us at all.”

  “No other ghasts?”

  “Not that we saw. Though if there were any more, I wager this one probably ate them. Cellar spiders are known to do that, and it's been long enough for it to regain some of its old behaviour.”

  “Good,” Dovell said with a nod. “Keep it with you for now. We'll see what we can do with it later. Let us finish securing the sanctum first.”

  Noon came and went and Dovell found himself in the lower lounge, leaning against the wall and waiting for news from Second Lance. As the sanctum was now properly secured and the healers from the nearest alluvium had arrived, there was no more reason for Fifth Lance to be there. Their part in the operation had ended, yet Dovell decided to linger.

  Rooy and Nissek, along with two Galond magistrae, were sitting at a coffee table observing the ghast in its jar. The spider had drained all the charge of the sigil and was now sitting motionless, observing everything outside its glass prison.

  Bastian and Harra were speaking about something in soft tones, and Tobiac was chatting up some of the female apprentices that had accompanied the healers.

  “Taking it easy, I see?” a heavy voice said.

  “I wish I could,” Dovell said to Uven, the owner of the voice. “I'm feeling like I haven't slept in days.” He looked at the Second Lance guard-captain with anticipation. “Any news?”

  “Nothing,” Uven stated briskly. “No disturbances, no signs of magic use, no unauthorized people anywhere in the quarter. I even had to smack some of the watch to make them alert again.”

  “Nothing,” Dovell repeated, exhaling slowly as he spoke the word.

  “?ther pressure is higher than expected,” Uven added, “but nothing threatening, and no sign of spells being cast or woven.”

  He studied Dovell's face. “This wasn't what you wanted to hear, I see.”

  “It's not,” Dovell said, before correcting himself. “I mean, it's not what I expected.”

  “I recall asking you what you expected and you didn't answer me then.”

  Dovell raised his hand and waved it in a desperate gesture. “I don't know, Uven. I've been feeling like I'm missing something crucial, but I don't know what it is.”

  “An unwarranted feeling, I say.”

  Dovell nodded with a stern face. “I know I should be glad that nothing happened. That there is no threat from the sanctum and that the dark assailants did not show themselves. But still...”

  “You want to know what I think?”

  You are going to tell me anyway.

  “I think you let the Frontier get to you. It's a place where everything is dangerous, and then there's that Demon as well. What if talking inside your head wasn't all it did in there?”

  Dovell's eyes widened slightly. The Demon. He had not thought about the creature since his experience at the Winged Keep two nights ago. Could that be it? It's all in my head because the Demon did something?

  “But leaving out monsters like that,” Uven continued, motioning towards the ghast in the jar, “there isn't much left to be done here is there?”

  “No,” Dovell grudgingly admitted. “Two of the corpses we found are already on their way to the nearest alluvium. That spider is the only ghast we encountered, and we gathered all the runestones and spelltomes we could find. The only thing that remains a puzzle is the ?ther pump.”

  “One of those old things to empower wards? What about it?”

  “It was running. Connected to the ward's sigils, though for what purpose we don't know.” Dovell tilted his head to nod in the rainbow-coloured magister's direction. “The Galond magister took a look at it, but he's as baffled as everyone else. The only way to find out for certain what it did is to start it up again, and we're not going to do that until all the sanctum's contents are relocated elsewhere.”

  “And the item White Candle found in the Wastes?”

  Dovell shook his head. “We didn't find anything that even remotely qualifies. Whatever it was, it likely vanished into the void along with the magistrae.”

  “Might even have caused it,” Uven said, scratching his nose. “But that's for the smart people to figure out.” He met Dovell's gaze. “Maybe you should head back to the barracks. As you said, you could use some sleep.”

  “All of us could,” Dovell said, but he knew it was a pointless retort. Uven wanted them gone and he was not wrong in that regard. Fifth Lance specialized in combat, not investigation or surveying. Their continuing presence was pointless at best, a hindrance at worst.

  “Fine,” Dovell said after a moment of silence. “We'll return to the barracks.”

  “Good.”

  Dovell pushed himself away from the wall. Saying those words made him feel like he had admitted defeat.

  “We're heading out, sir?” Nissek asked upon Dovell's arrival at their table.

  “Yes. We'll return to the Keep. Our involvement is no longer required.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nissek said, before tapping his finger on the glass jar. The ghast inside spun to meet the perceived threat. “What do we do with this?”

  “Normally we would hand it to one of the magic guilds, but we can't do that now.”

  Dovell glanced at the two Galond magistrae, who both looked at him eagerly.

  “We'll take it with us,” Dovell said, picking up the jar.

  The magistrae's attitude immediately changed to disappointment, yet they did not protest.

  Outside, Candle Square was nearly empty. There were a handful of militia standing near the edge and two open carriages waited near the entrance to take the remaining bodies to the alluvium.

  “So what happens now, sir?” Tobiac asked, as they crossed the square. “Or is it over?”

  To his own surprise, Dovell chortled. “That's a good question,” he said, smirking wryly.

  The men around him exchanged glances. They were just as surprised by the guard-captain's laugh as he was.

  “Don't mind me,” Dovell said. “I'm in need of sleep. We all are.” He lifted up the jar he still held in his hands and stared at the ghast, who met his gaze without flinching.

  Perhaps a good night's sleep can make things clearer again.

  “Are you still expecting the dark assailants to show themselves?” Tobiac asked.

  Dovell remained silent, so Nissek spoke in his stead. “I don't think there is a reason for them to do so. If their goal was the item White Candle found, then that goal vanished along with the guild. Callium was inside the sanctum before, so it's possible they knew there was nothing there anymore.”

  “If that's true, it raises some additional questions regarding Archmagister Yerwede's sudden flight,” Rooy added. “Or perhaps answers.”

  “I could use some answers,” Tobiac said. “You have no idea how worried I was just before we entered the sanctum. I almost believed the Third Bane of ?ther would begin the moment we set foot in there.”

  Nissek nodded. “I felt the same. I suppose we let the rumours get to us after all.”

  Dovell lowered the jar upon hearing Nissek's words. Could it really be as simple as that?

  He had been living for today for weeks now. Ever since he had heard that distant explosion, he had thrown himself into the conflict with vigour, perhaps to the point of obsession, looking for answers to the many questions posed.

  Yet after every curtain had been pulled back, only more questions remained, and those who could answer those questions had all evaporated like the morning mist. The dark assailants; the Callium archmagister; Magister De Ekkar; the missing people in Hertwolf; the White Candle magistrae—they were all gone, leaving nothing but a smattering of remnants like the ghast he held in his hands.

  And therein lies the problem, Dovell realized. Nothing has been truly resolved, but the story has ended regardless.

  “We're going to catch up on our sleep,” Dovell said, answering Tobiac's earlier question. “And then we will have to wait and see what tomorrow brings.”