I blinked, looking back and forth, but that man was gone. I had half a mind to dismiss it as my eyes simply missing him leave until I walked towards the exit and something unseen shoved past me. I stopped to glance around again, but there was still nothing there.

Then there was the fainted sound of wood creaking, only audible to my ears. It came from the trellis, and when I scanned the lattice, all that I could see were small leaves of ivy being quietly crushed underfoot. Under an invisible foot.

Okay, I thought to myself as I wandered back inside. Okay…okay. So they turned invisible to get into somewhere off-limits. What are the chances that they're doing something I should care about at all?

Nothing came to mind, at first. They could simply have been searching for blackmail on the guests. Or trying to steal something of value; that's what I would do. But too many what ifs clouded my thoughts. What if they were planning on poisoning the guests? What if they wanted to gain control over the burgomaster, or the city's council? What if they were planting powder to blow this whole place to bits?

My instinct was to run, and I fought it every step of the way back inside. I had to go after them. The only issue was that I had no way of getting up that trellis without being spotted. It wasn't like I had an invisibility potion or something. The only visible way up was right out in the open, and even if the guests here were airheaded and imperceptive, they would surely see someone climbing up the ivy, especially me.

So, I needed a distraction. One that would get all the guests in the courtyard either out or looking the other way.

My mind made up, I headed back outside, scanning the crowd. There were only a few people lingering in conversation. My eyes passed over the couple sitting at the table beside the refreshments, past the couple viewing the lake from the wall, past the group which was now more animatedly talking about how vicious and cruel wyverns were, and eventually landed on the man that had been gifted a necklace only moments before. He had stepped over to get a plate of hors d'oeuvres, the necklace hanging half out of his pocket. It was a gaudy piece of chained pink pearls, far too expensive to look nice. He must not have wanted to take his tall hat off to put it on. He definitely wasn't expecting anyone here to try snatching it, with how it hung free from his pocket.

I stepped up behind him, making sure to stand a little bit too close, just blocking easy view from the couple at the table to the side. The necklace was entirely exposed, and the man was paying far too much attention to his food to notice as I reached out and gently hooked a claw around the string, pulling the necklace from his pocket into my sleeve in one fluid motion.

I backed off so he didn't crash into me when he turned around, but he still gave me an annoyed look from behind his mask when he finally noticed my presence behind him. "Watch your step, you lumbering oaf," he muttered as he walked away.

I grabbed a single plate from the platter before retreating from the table. That man was easily aggravated, which was perfect for what I wanted to do. I decided to approach the three people standing by a row of potted flowers, who were still going on about wyverns.

"Greetings, friends," I said. "Couldn't help but notice talk about monsters in the fields?

"Oh, welcome!" one of them said back. "I'd be surprised if you hadn't heard any of the rumours. Flying lizards smashing through vineyards left and right, and yet none have managed to put them to the sword. I'm surprised Lord Dracontrine still has standing enough to be invited as a guest of honour to such an event as this, what with his men failing time and again to catch these beasts!"

"And that is precisely what I'm saying," an irritated-looking man said. He rolled his eyes. "Naïveté is not a good look on you, my lady. What would wyverns want with a winery? Beasts have no use for grapes, nor the wine they make. I assure you, it must simply be exaggerated tales told by foolish workers who wish for something to blame for their failings other than the summer's bad weather."

I gave him an analysing glance. He was the closest to open anger. I mentally marked him as the target.

"Perhaps it isn't wyverns then!" said the third person. The other two glanced at her like she was interrupting a private conversation. "Perhaps these workers simply can't recognise whatever monster did the deed. Perhaps it was dragons? They know enough to be enticed by wine, yes?"

The man scoffed. "If that is the case, then the culprits would have been caught by now. Dragons that hostile would be far too dangerous for anyone who owns anything bearing the title of an 'estate' to handle. Any gold in the region would be swept up before the wine, anyway."

I bristled at the direction this conversation was going, but thankfully, they seemed to have gone back to ignoring me almost immediately after I had arrived, fully engrossed in talking with each other. I idly nodded along with what they were saying as I leaned over to the side, sliding the necklace out of my sleeve and tucking it loosely into the pocket of the irritated man, leaving it hanging out just like it had been in the pocket of its true owner.

The three didn't pay me any mind as I slowly stepped away, settling into a shadowed corner by the trellis to wait. I wolfed down the food while no one was looking, and set the plate aside just in time to see the necklace owner pat his pocket in confusion. He whipped around, his eyes darting all over the yard, before he finally turned to the three people in conversation.

"You!" he shouted, drawing all the chatter in the courtyard to silence as he marched over to the other man. "Pickpocket! What are you doing with my jewellery!?"

The irritated man scowled as he turned to face his accuser. "I don't know what you're—" he started.

The owner yanked the necklace free from the other man's pocket, holding it up in his face. "You don't know, hm?" he said threateningly. "Are you certain that that is the claim you want to make?"

"Oh, I'm quite certain," the irritated man said, his irritation deepening by the second. "Perhaps take off your smug tone for a moment and I might consider accepting an apology from you."

As both men fumed, the argument only crescendoed in volume, and all eyes turned towards the altercation. They were getting so furious so fast that I half expected they would come to blows, so I had to take the chance before anyone with real authority here turned up to defuse the situation. Staying as much in shadow as I could, I grabbed onto the trellis and started climbing. The gaps between the boards were slightly too small for my hands and feet, but my claws were of great help in scaling the wall.

I didn't have time to look back, but it didn't sound like anyone caught sight of me as I reached the upper balcony and vaulted over the railing. I crouched down low so that my profile couldn't be seen from anywhere but the wall opposite this balcony. There was only one set of doors, a large wooden pair that hung just slightly ajar in front of me. I pulled it back and slipped inside.

The room I came into was a library, and a very impressive one at that. Two parallel shelves contained what must have been hundreds of books, with more lining the walls around a sitting area at the back with fine cushioned seats and a currently dark fireplace. I was presented with three more doors, one ahead at the back of the room, and the other two to my left and right. Unlike the one behind me, none of them were open.

I couldn't see any trace of the infiltrator, but I could still smell that strange chemical scent, with the trail clearly leading to the right. I was quietly, briefly thankful for having a dragon's nose in that moment as I hurried after them.

The door led into a long hallway, unlit and silent. The trail kept going, as clear as anything, and I picked up the pace as I ran past portraits and elaborate lanterns that hung from the stone walls. Ahead, I heard the sound of a door shutting hard, and as I turned a corner I smelled the trail enter one to my right. Out of caution, I elected to use discretion, turning the knob slowly and pushing it open just enough that I could clearly hear what was going on inside.

To my surprise, there were three sets of footsteps moving around in the room, not one. I could faintly hear what must have been a very small fire, the bubbling of boiling liquid, and then the clunk of wood against wood.

"The royal blood's in here," a young voice said, not getting an immediate response.

There was the clinking of glass, and then the shuffling of paper before the clunk sounded again.

"I hate these things," a similar voice to the first said with a sigh. "They're so creepy."

"Just do the job," the first voice chastised.

Royal blood…. It sounded like whatever that was, this was a delivery. Pieces were starting to click in my mind. New hands, strange blood, that scent…this had to be an organised plot of some kind. It was enough to give me the confidence to fling the door open, ready to go loud.

The room was apparently an alchemical laboratory, with a large U-shaped table in the middle of the room, covered in tools of various shapes and sizes, with one of them suspending a metal retort over a small contained fire. At one end of the table, a man and a woman both in the white shirt and dark coat of servants hovered over an open chest, while that plain-dressed man from before swiftly moved towards a small door at the back.

The servants' eyes snapped to me as soon as I opened the door. "Shit!" the man said. "Mary!"

"I know, I know," his partner grumbled as they both drew long daggers from the insides of their coats.

I took half a step back, ready to flee, but I still needed to know where that guy was going. And something told me that these two had a contingency plan if someone escaped, and I didn't want to put any of the people at the celebration in danger, even if they were annoying. I took my mask and tossed it to the side, exposing my snarling jaws.

"Here's your fair warning," I growled. The pair paused for only a brief moment before they continued to approach. My stomach turned at the thought of what I was going to have to do, but I steeled my nerves and lunged forward.

It was immediately obvious how this fight was going to go. I had the Key, not to mention draconic speed and strength, and they were just humans. I slashed my hand upwards towards the man's chin, claws out. He swung the dagger in an effort to deflect the attack, but his blade had the wrong angle and bounced off the scales of my hand. My claws dragged cuts across his cheek, and he stumbled back.

His partner darted forward, bringing her dagger up and aiming for my ribs, but I whirled around, hand out, and grabbed her by the face. She tried ineffectually to stab at my hands as I raised her up and hurled her into the table. She rolled over it and onto the ground to the sound of shattering glass.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The man recovered from the slash to his face and aimed to give me one back. This time his dagger managed to pierce my skin and drag a short and shallow line across my throat before the blade contacted thicker orange scales that deflected it away. He brought it forward again, point forward this time, but I caught his hand by the wrist. He immediately threw a punch with his free hand, slamming into my jaw hard enough for one of my sharp teeth to nick my tongue, and I tasted blood. But his attack had left him off-balance with one hand immobilised, and I hooked my arm around his back and yanked him right up next to me, wrenching his wrist as I did. I heard an awful pop, and the dagger slipped from his suddenly loose grip, clattering to the ground.

All of his confidence evaporated, and he desperately struggled against my arm. I moved as if on muscle memory. I leaned my head down, mouth open, and crunched where his neck met his shoulder. I felt his muscles and veins give way before my fangs, and warm blood flowed into my mouth.

"Aaah—!" he screamed for only a moment before his windpipe was severed. His strength faded in an instant, and his struggling became slow and limp. I pulled my head back, tearing his throat as I did, and let go of his dislocated wrist. I closed my eyes so I couldn't see his terrified expression as I took his head in both hands and twisted it to the side as hard as I could, not stopping until I heard a loud snap. He fell to the floor, dead, as soon as I let him go. I stood for a moment, staring down at the corpse and licking the sweet blood from my lips.

"Saints have mercy…!" I heard behind me. The woman had stood from where I'd thrown her, shards of glass sicking out of one of her arms as blood dripped freely from her cuts. She let go of her dagger and turned to desperately limp towards the door

I didn't have time to process what I did. I sprinted forward, jumping onto and over the table and taking her to the ground with a hard tackle. Her head slammed against the tile floor hard enough that I feared I might have killed her on impact, but she groaned in pain as I pinned her to the ground and held my claws up to her throat.

"Who was that third man?" I demanded. She blinked slowly, and I moved my claws just enough to give her a nick. "Answer me!"

"I don't know!" she shouted out desperately. "We were just…supposed to give him supplies!"

"What supplies?"

"Royal blood and a scroll, it was all in the chest," she said.

"Who do you work for?" I pressed. "Is it the vicar? Did the vicar hire you?"

"I don't know who hired us," she pleaded. "I work for the Skinners, but I don't know who paid for this job. I promise, I don't know!"

"What's the 'royal blood' for?"

"I don't know!" she said, fully wailing by then. "All we had to do was get in the castle, give that man the chest, and that's it. I don't know anything about what he's doing or what any of that stuff is for. Please, please don't kill me!"

I could sense she wasn't lying, she was far too scared to. She'd given me everything she knew. But…I couldn't just let her go. She'd talk, if not to whoever hired her, then to the "Skinners", and whoever they were, I didn't want them to put a target on our backs. I couldn't take her to the palace guards, either, not without admitting that I'd broken in here too. If the vicar found out, he'd use the law as a cudgel.

There wasn't much choice. I already killed her friend, I was already in deep enough that this would be just another drop of blood in the bucket. In one quick motion, I dug my claw into her throat and pulled to the side, slicing through her veins. She had time to let out a brief gasp before she fell limp, staring wide-eyed at the wall until her life was bled away.

I stood, glancing around the room. Thankfully, there wasn't much blood on my clothes, but there was a giant stain around my mouth. I could still taste it. I could almost feel the sublime feeling of flesh tearing between my jaws. I would have been sick, but all the blood I'd swallowed, even as unrefined as it was, had given me too much vitality for my body to let me do that.

Although blood had been sprayed across the table, I finally had the time to notice that there was a small trail of droplets leading from the table to a cabinet in the corner. Figuring I might as well pursue any lead I had, I opened the cabinet door, only for someone to fall out. Or, it had been someone, but they were clearly dead. It was an older man, with a bushy moustache and a pair of glass goggles hanging loosely around his neck, and thick gloves on his hands. He must have been the alchemist that worked in this lab. Stab wounds were visible on his abdomen and chest.

"Damn…" I muttered, glancing back at the other corpses. I'd never be able to hide them all. And they were in servants' clothes, too, so this was going to look like a massacre no matter what. The best I could do was put their daggers in their hands and hope that it would be clear they weren't defensive weapons.

As much as I was arguably innocent in this, I couldn't resist doing a quick perusal of the lab's ingredients while I was here. There might have been something rare, something I might struggle to get out in the wild. And there was—amongst a collection of snowdrop flowers, there was a few sprigs of blossoms that were black as midnight. That was the last thing I needed for the potion I had been working on. Though I was in a laboratory, actually making it right now would take far too long, but I could save them for once we got home.

«Belfry!» I suddenly heard in my head. The sound made me jump. «Where are you? I can't find you anywhere! Are you okay?»

«I'm fine, Grace,» I responded. «But there's a…situation.» I explained as quickly as I could while I retrieved my mask, then ran out the back door of the lab into a series of hallways, from which branched a number of rooms that seemed more residential in purpose.

«Is it an assassin?» asked Grace.

«I have no idea!» I hissed. «They've already assassinated someone, but he wasn't the main target. Whatever they're after, it's not good! Listen, warn the others, but don't let it slip to the whole party. We don't need a panic.»

«Uh, about that,» said Grace. «I think the "val Lunedor" or whatever her family name is already knows that something is wrong. She said she wanted to talk with you, urgently, but I had no idea where you were. She told me if I found you to let you know, and to tell you to "keep your eye on the lake". Whatever that means.»

"Argh!" I growled aloud. Just how many threads were there to what was going on here? Was the infiltrator I was chasing going all the way to the lake?

«Whatever you're doing, just don't be gone too long,» said Grace. «I think people are starting to notice.»

«I won't be gone much longer,» I answered as I marched own the hall, hoping desperately that I would hear some footsteps or something that might point me in the direction of the infiltrator. «I just need to find—»

I was interrupted by a startled yelp, then a genuine scream that erupted from one of the rooms before me. «I'll be back!» I assured Grace before I sprinted to the door and threw it open, not caring for subtlety.

It was a bedroom, a small guest room by the look of the relatively plain canopy bed and general lack of ostentatious furniture. Another young man in servants' clothes was on the ground in the corner by the window, with another plainly-dressed person giving off those chemical smells standing over him, a blood-stained dagger in hand, though this one's outfit wasn't quite the same, so it wasn't the one I had been chasing. The assassin glanced up just in time to see me charge, giving him a swift kick to the chest. He stumbled backwards, slamming his head against the window and throwing the shutters open.

I saw my opportunity and I took it. I threw a hard punch square into his chest, and followed up with a shove. He fell backwards, tipping over at the windowsill and sliding away to fall from the room. I glanced out, watching him smash into the rocky cliffs. This side of the castle was facing the lake, with the tower crammed up against the cliff's edge, with only the docks below before the lakeshore. They'd have a hard time explaining that body down there in the morning, that was for sure. For some reason, that hadn't given me the same rush that killing the impostor servants had, which was calming in the way that between that and the deacon-ish smell, it almost felt like it wasn't even a real person that I'd just killed.

"Saints' blood…" the servant whispered from the floor. "Thank you, stranger. If it weren't for you, I'd have been gutted."

"You're right about that," I agreed, offering a hand and helping him to his feet. "What's your name?"

"Samson," the man said.

"I'm glad you're alive, Samson. Now, can you please politely tell me what in the unholy Pits is going on?"

Samson immediately threw his hands up in defense. "I'll tell you!" he said. "This wasn't part of the deal, I've got nothing to hide anymore."

"Deal?" I repeated.

"Mhm," Samson confirmed. "The burgomaster. He was trying to…to frame the archvicar."

I snorted. "I feel like if you wanted to implicate the vicar in a crime, you wouldn't need to frame him for it."

"That's what I thought, too," said Samson. "I mean, everyone in the castle knows he's been embezzling from the Church's funds since he got his office. But outside these walls, he's untouchable. I've heard that most of the people in this city believe his claim to sainthood. He's like a…symbol for the city, he has too good of a reputation."

"So what was the plan?" I asked. "How was he going to be framed?"

"Well, I was supposed to forge a letter from one of the ministers who was going to be staying here," said Samson. "Master Lionel thought that the vicar might make a move tonight and sneak in templar or mercenaries or something, so we were more faking evidence than faking a crime. But I guess it wasn't mercenaries the vicar's planning on using…." He glanced at the window and shuddered. "Those things…they're dead."

"Dead?"

"Dead. But up and walking around. I don't know how they did it, but they seem a lot like deacons."

"I thought so too…." I glanced out the window again, nervous for just a moment that that guy might have somehow survived the fall and started climbing back up like some king of horrible nightmare creature, but he was nowhere to be seen. "I don't think he's planning an outright assassination, though, one of them took some kind of special blood and a scroll. I think they're planning a ritual. You work here; do you know anywhere in the castle that's set up for a ritual?"

"There's the occult wing," said Samson. "It's near the ballroom, but it's blocked off from guests. They put guards outside it, too, I thought because of the magic that must be hidden inside, but…maybe it's part of the vicar's plan."

My mind flashed back to the hall beside the statue gallery. That must be what he was talking about, but how would I get past the guards? Especially when I had a noble to meet, apparently one who knew something about the goings-on here….

The foundations of a plan came together in my mind, and I nodded. "Okay. Okay. I have an idea." I motioned towards the door. "Samson, if you can discreetly get me back to the party, I can promise you that one of us knights will be able to look after you here, make sure the vicar doesn't try targeting you again. But I need you to promise that if it comes to it, you can testify to the burgomaster and the guests about everything you know about the vicar. Alright?"

Samson hesitantly nodded. "If you can keep me safe, then I can give you that much." He stepped out into the hallway, then pressed on a slightly loose ornament to reveal a door that sat flush with the wall, decorated to be nearly invisible. "There's servants' passages that'll get us there. I doubt the vicar knows about them. Come on."

I followed into the darkened, cramped passage behind the door. The air was musty and stale, but I didn't smell any more of those "dead" people. I directed my thoughts to the bond.

«Grace, tell the val Lunedor woman that I'm on my way,» I said. «And be careful. The vicar's people already killed the castle's alchemist and tried to kill another servant.»

«What the hell have you been up to?» demanded Grace.

«Investigating!» I said, a little defensively. «I told you earlier. Look, just tell the lady I'm coming.»

«She already knows, I think,» said Grace. «She's been waiting on you in the ballroom. I'll be…around.»

The path took Samson and me down several narrow stairways as we walked between the walls. He must have an impressive muscle memory for the route, since he was navigating it so proficiently in the dark. I heard a few shuffling sounds from farther away, but thankfully we didn't run into any other servants before Samson pushed open another door that was less invisible from the inside, clearing the blue cloth out the way as we stepped into the statue gallery. There were a few people who lingered here, but most of them pointedly ignored the door opening and letting us out. More importantly, Ingo was still here in his corner at the back of the room.

"The occult wing is out the door, then to the left," said Samson. He wrung his hands nervously. "Who am I staying with? I…I'm not a guest, I need to stay out of sight."

"I think we have a good reason for you to be here." I led him towards Ingo, who straightened as he heard people approaching. "Ingo," I signalled my presence.

"Belfry," he responded. He looked immensely bored, glancing around the room as though he was watching an invisible play. "And…? I hear someone else."

"This is Samson," I said. "Samson, this is Ingo." I leaned in closer to whisper. "The vicar is making some clandestine moves, and tried to have this one killed. Could you make sure he stays safe until the ball ends?"

Ingo rolled his shoulder, finally shaken from his boredom. "Is he a servant?"

"Mhm," Samson quietly confirmed.

"I can do that," said Ingo. "Finally gives me a good opportunity to leave this forsaken room. We'll say you're my navigator, boy." He tapped Samson's leg with his cane. I realised only then that Ingo had brought the cane that functioned as his weapon, rather than the normal one. Hopefully he wouldn't have to use it, and hopefully it wouldn't get us in any trouble with the guards.

"Do you need one of those?" asked Samson.

"I'm blind, so it would help in a crowded and loud party," said Ingo. "Especially with Griffin having gone off to saints-know-where."

"Try and find them, if you can," I said. "I don't want anyone getting lost and having an assassin drop down on them when they're alone." I patted Samson on the back. "And do keep him safe. He's a witness, if it comes to that."

I turned to the door. "Thanks for your help, Samson, and you too, Ingo," I said as Ingo gave me a casual wave. "But I've got to go. There's someone waiting on me."

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