After a few hours of uncomfortable napping, Lyle arrived, a bundle of crisp, white papers in tow. The two sat on the small porch of Natalia’s residence, and traced across the map.

It wasn’t particularly helpful, but it gave some reference. She tracked the hallway down she first encountered the grimoire. Perhaps she didn’t need to find it. Perhaps she just needed to get lucky. After all, Doc was supposed to come back to her, regardless of how far she threw it. There was a good chance she just needed to get back within range.

“That’s the passage we used,” Lyle said, idly chewing on his nail. “But I think it’s locked after dark.”

Ceyda sighed. “Inevitably problematic.”

“We still have those outfits, but Opal--Amber only provided us with male outfits. I don’t know if any would fit you anyway.”

“Even if they did, I can only imagine that the mages now very distinctly know my face. I can’t exactly bank on them not paying attention to me,” Ceyda frowned, staring at the fine ink lines of the map, neatly labelled. Did Amber draw this up? If so, she had a remarkably steady hand.

Ceyda’s handwriting was more akin to a squirmy caterpillar, making its way across an ink splotched page.

“Maybe one of us could play bait?” Lyle suggested.

“One of us?” Ceyda cocked an eyebrow. “I’m going.”

“Well--yeah but you’re not going alone. That’d be absurd.”

Ceyda stared at Lyle in confusion. “Why--why would I not go alone?”

“Because you need help?”

“Exactly how can you help me?” Ceyda narrowed her eyes. This was such a weird suggestion. There was nothing Lyle could provide specifically. Unless he somehow could talk to Amber, or had a set of keys she knew nothing about.

“I--I can help in all sorts of ways! I’m strong, I’m tough--”

“Can you survive someone ripping your heart out?” Ceyda asked.

Lyle huffed. “Can you?”

“Yes.”

“...how can you survive that?”

“It is extremely unclear.”

The conversation died down, in favor of brief mumblings as Ceyda tried to figure out if there was some magical secret that would be unveiled to her if she just squinted at the papers longer.

It wasn't the best of arguments to make, to be fair. Ceyda had no idea how the random healing worked, only that it might or might not be connected to Reiner, who might or might not be alive. As the words left her mouth, she even realized that, in some way, it would have been quite possible to have survived a lobotomy.

Funny how that had taken the day to sink in.

Did such a thing count as an injury? Did medical procedures count as pain? If she needed surgery, would her skin automatically stitch back up, barring anyone from removing the bad parts? What if someone dropped a spoon in her stomach? Would that have been stuck there forever, constantly healed over?

Stranger still was how she had neglected to tell anyone about her parents plans. Funny how she didn't, but she was already becoming exhausted with explaining. She had been explaining things nonstop and if she were to explain what her parents had threatened, she would have had to explain everything leading up to that point. A long, boring history of family drama, all to get a sympathetic face and then a question if there was anything to do to help.

She did not want help, she wanted Doc back.

“Is there a way we could go back to the beacon?” Ceyda asked.

Lyle spent a few moments staring at the map before he responded. “What do you mean?”

“The glowing pillar I created in the basement. Is it still up? Can we get to it?”

“No. The mages have roped off the entire area. Even Jerome--the tanner--had to be relocated. He’s pissed.”

Ceyda groaned and rubbed her face in frustration. She had been hoping to test and see if she could somehow use that to be able to cast spells, or summon Doc from afar. Damn, that had been like, her most clever plan. Clearly she was not good at this.

She was running out of time to figure this out if she wanted to do it before the sun rose. She couldn’t afford to wait. Not with lives on the line. Her parents would inevitably see the empty room. If they reported it, or if the Blanches found out, she couldn’t imagine the mages being so forgiving a second time.

Ceyda sighed, stood up, and cracked her neck. She could stare at that stupid map forever or she could do something.

“You leaving already?”

Ceyda looked back at Lyle. His eyes were drooping from exhaustion.

“I’m going to get my grimoire back. If there’s any way to find out where Merlin is, or reclaim the beacon, it’s through that.” Ceyda said quietly.

Lyle sighed. “Don’t die, all right? You’re a pretty cool person.”

Ceyda smiled. “You’re very interesting too. If I’m not back in a day--well, just tell the others I tried my best, okay?”

“Won’t have to, you’re gonna come back with that weirdass book and we’re all gonna learn magic,” Lyle grinned wolfishly.

“Yeah, it’s probably better to lie to ourselves to feel better,” Ceyda nodded, feeling better already. She hugged Lyle, and started walking. It was an hour’s walk to Blanche Mansion, so she would have plenty of time to think over how she planned on finding her grimoire.

Such as, going through a window. Going through a door. Finding a cellar. Walking around the building and just hoping it led to Doc flying out a window and clocking her in the face!

That was a good starter plan. She’d have to keep an eye out for mages. Now that she knew how magic worked, it wouldn’t be good enough to just not be within eyesight. If they expanded her senses, they would be able to see her if she was too close.

And they could teleport, which was exceedingly problematic.

It was still dark when Ceyda reached the Blanche house, and she had no idea what time it was, beyond the fact that maybe, just maybe, the sky was lightening ever so slightly . She leaned against a tree, exhausted. There was an alternative plan that involved Ceyda sleeping and hoping she could somehow use Esterath’s domain to get to Doc, but that seemed like a plan Z and not a plan A.

She blinked wearily, at the dark mansion. No lights, not even candles, illuminated the mansion. There were some lights near the stables, but those were even further. By the crown, this property was huge. Everyone could give Ceyda shit (bzzt) for being wealthy, but if the Lucrece family was rich, then the Blanches were royalty.

Ceyda had never met actual royalty. They probably had three mansions.

Nothing was happening. No Doc, but no random mage showing up either.

She inched closer, yawning as she did.

Her brain was buzzing. She didn’t know if it was from exhaustion or if she was sensing Doc.

Blink.

Blink.

Bl--

Ceyda opened her eyes to see the black cloud she was situated on. Dammit, she fell asleep. She had given her brain an out to justify it, and her brain had taken it.

This time however, it wasn’t just her. There were clouds visible in the distance. Instead of doors, like Reiner had, they had structures on them. One had a tower, the other seemed to have a marble horse, and further back still was what appeared to be a giant bed.

The other mages, perhaps? She had never seen other clouds, but there they were, albeit much further than Reiner’s door had been.

At this point, something occurred to her, if this was due to distance, then would she be able to actually tell how many mages were nearby? She started counting.

In total, there were six clouds, other than hers. That was. Well, a lot of mages, considering she couldn’t even beat the one. In fact, all this told her was that this was a colossally stupid idea.

Ceyda forced herself awake, and stood up.

She felt slightly less tired. It was like she had taken a miniature, momentary nap. Ceyda walked up to the mansion and touched the cold brick. Nothing happened. She was sort of hoping to suddenly get a vision of intense clarity that would guide her to where Doc was, but instead it was just the brick casing of a very large mansion.

“Dorskina?” Ceyda whispered experimentally. A light sputtered out of her hand, the size of an apple.

She didn’t immediately feel like keeling over and sleeping.

Doc had to be close.

In several rapid fire spells, she tore the bracelet off her arm. It wasn’t the same strength as before, but it certainly had gotten the job done. Now she could curse.

Fuck shit fuck.

Good.

Ceyda walked around the mansion, and invoked Dorskina’s name again. Another light, about the same size. Ceyda squinted, trying to figure out if it was bigger or smaller than it was on the other side of the mansion, but to no avail.

Ceyda pressed herself against the wall, and shut her eyes. With another invocation, she expanded her senses. There was no one behind the wall.

“Dorskina!” Ceyda whispered, and jumped. Unfortunately, her jump wasn’t as high as it was before, and she ended up slamming her stomach into the top corner of the wall. Moaning and wheezing, she desperately clung to the top, trying to keep her balance.

This would be the absolute worst moment for anyone to notice her, which meant it was vital she stopped being in a position that hiked her dress up to her ass.

Did she ever have a spell that let her down gently? Usually she just got it from the jump spell, but she had drastically overestimated it this time! She slowly climbed to the other side of the wall, and lowered herself as much as possible. Fingers clutching the ledge, legs wildly dangling, there was still a good six or so feet between her and the ground.

Ceyda took a deep breath, hissed Dorskina’s name, and jumped off backwards. Next time, she’d climb the gate instead of the wall.

She landed far better than she had any right to, but still ended up stumbling, tearing her dress, and skinning her knee.

“Gretian I better get some climbing spells after this,” Ceyda muttered.

She walked closer to the mansion proper, expanding her senses every few steps. Her range continued to grow, and to her delight, there were no mages outside. She was a few feet away from the mansion itself when something strange happened.

She heard Rembrandt’s voice--coming from beneath her.

Ceyda stared at the ground and frowned.

“Dorskina!” once again she expanded her senses, but only directly downwards. All she could see was dirt and stone, and a few cracks of light, through which there were vague shadowy figures dancing in her magical peripherals.

“Does two jacks beat a queen?”

“Only in bed, Fontaine. You lose.”

“Nuts.”

They were playing a card game. Playing a card game in a room underground that did not exist on the map Ceyda studied. There had been no cellar or basement whatsoever. Was it some sort of secret room? Perhaps a secret bunker where the mages were stationed?

A secret bunker that could likely contain, well, Doc?

After all, who cared about guarding a mansion when you had a recently stolen artifact?

Ceyda stared at the mansion, the ground, and then got an idea.

She aimed her hand at the stables.

“Dorskina!” Ceyda hissed, and a beam of intense magical energy burst out of her. The horses awoke and started to make noises.

She then sent another beam at the wall.

“Hey--what was that?”

“Shit, it better just be ghosts--”

There was scuffling as Ceyda listened as three or four mages left the room. Excellent.

She found a corner of the mansion walls, and sat down, to hide herself. Her skin started to turn into a bland gray, to match her surroundings. Thanks, Gretian!

To her surprise, they did not come from the nearest entrance, which Ceyda knew to be the main entrance, instead they came from around the manor, through a back door, where the kitchen most likely was. Spellbook wielding men took one look at the wall and cursed, and started to spread out, looking for the culprit.

Ceyda crawled along the dirt, inching towards the back door. She slipped in, and started looking for open doors of any kind. She expanded her senses as she quickly walked down the hallway, and turned into a dark parlor room filled with books. The mages who had stayed behind were still talking below her, and it was close.

One of the book shelves was at a strange angle. She stepped to the side and saw that it led to another room entirely. She sucked in her gut and edged through, not daring to try and move the bookcase to be fully open, in fear of it making noise. In this room was more books, and in the dead center, an open cellar door.

The noise of the mages were ever so slightly quieter.

She stepped into the cellar, and started going down the narrow stairs. It was risky, but she only had so much time before the others returned, and based on her senses, the other mages should be far away from the cellar entrance.

Now she could hear the mages talking without her magic. They were deeper in the cellar, but the dim electric bulb was blatantly visible.

Ceyda frowned. She had been… sort of hoping Doc would have sensed her by now. Her magic was practically back in full force! So where was her grimoire?

Noise from above--Ceyda silently cursed to herself and quickly dived under a table, allowing Gretian’s power to flow through her again.

The mages came back, grumbling.

“Did you find what it was?” a mage called from the card table.

“No,” Rembrandt said. “Whoever it was ,they took out an entire chunk of the wall. Turn on all the lights. We’re on high damn alert.”

There was grumbling and shuffling. Ceyda didn’t have long before they found her.

Lights started going up all over the place. Ceyda now saw on the wall, emblazoned, was an old sign.

“The Office of Andrea Blanche.”

Weird. Andrea Blanche was of course one of the Blanche sisters who had used the grimoire before Ceyda, supposedly. Did she used to cast spells in this cellar? Or was this just a relocated sign?

“Yosef, Desmond, go upstairs. Fontaine, I want you to check with the cargo. I’m staying near the artifact,” Rembrandt said. “As will the rest of us.”

Doc was here? And hadn’t flown back to her? How? Was it chained down? Had it not even tried to communicate with her?

That sign worried her. What if this was all a false alarm, and Andrea Blanche had set up some beacon, like Ceyda had done on Whiskey Road?

Fontaine started walking towards her hiding spot. Ceyda took a deep breath and started to inch away from under the table, but hit an immediate problem.

This table had wheels. And she had accidentally pushed it.

Shit.

There were yells, several casted spells, and a second later, three pairs of strong arms dragged Ceyda upwards.

“You again?” Fontaine hissed.

“Give me back my grimoire!” Ceyda yelled, hoping Doc would hear it.

A black box behind Rembrandt shook back and forth, but to no avail. It was wrapped in chains, and was even nailed to a wooden palet.

Doc!

“Your grimoire?” Rembrandt repeated. “I’m sorry, you stole an ancient heirloom, and you think it’s yours?”

“It chose me! Doc! Doc!” Ceyda yelled.

The box shook, but to no avail.

This wasn’t working. She had to try something else, even when three people were grabbing her.

“Dorskina!” Ceyda screamed, and a wave of magical force emanated from her. The three mages momentarily loosened their grip, and Ceyda made a mad dash for the box. She grabbed it, invoked Dorskina’s name for strength, and started to run.

She barely made it two feet with the box in hand before she was unceremoniously stopped.

The first thing that stopped her was Rembrandt, who appeared behind her, and placed his hand on her shoulder, and erected thorned claws from his fingers, and dug them into her cloth and flesh.

The second was the sight before her.

The table she had hid under wasn’t a table, and just as the side the mages had been playing cards in had been deeper in the cellar, the other side of the cellar was just as deep.

Beds. Dozens and dozens of beds.

Full of sleeping individuals, strapped to the beds with brown tubes clipped into their mouths.

Ceyda blinked rapidly, as magical chains attempted to wrap around her.

"Dorskina!" Ceyda yelled in retaliation, breaking the chains before they could reach her, save for one around her ankle. It tugged down, and Ceyda dropped to the ground, landing on her ass. The corner of the black box jammed in her stomach, as it fell with her.

She keeled over, letting go of the box, hissing in pain.

“Put that thing down!” Rembrandt ordered.

The other mages started yelping and aiming spells at Ceyda. Chains wrapped around the black box and slowly dragged it away from her.

"Dorskina!" Ceyda yelled, putting up a shield and sending out her own beam in return. Fontaine stepped in the direction of the beam, extending his hand out, causing the beam to dissipate and soak into his arm.

The spells hitting her shield shattered it, and a spell of intense exhaustion hit her square in the chest. She nearly fell asleep, and it was only her adrenaline that kept her eyes open.

It was a familiar spell--the one that had been used to subdue her the first time. They had learned her weaknesses, and she had learned none of theirs.

The chains wrapped around her legs, neck and mouth, gagging her.

For a moment, no one spoke. The mages pocketed their wands and collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

“What are we gonna do with the chatelaine?” Fontaine asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think anyone can claim she’s innocent. I say we make a formal arrest,” Rembrandt said. “Gabriel Blanche can hold a trial as he sees fit.”

Ceyda was hoisted up, and forced to walk. She muffled through her gag an invocation of Dorskina, but as she did, Fontaine immediately grabbed her by the neck, and her spell was drained away from her, leaving her with no spell, but all the exhaustion.

“Keep an eye on her, Fontaine. Don’t let her leave your sight,” Rembrandt ordered.

Fontaine nodded.

Dammit.

As she was escorted up the cellar stares, she glanced at the bodies, as they passed by her, in a blurry mess of flesh. And then--

Merlin.

He, like the other bodies, was lying peacefully and unmoving. Tubes were inside their mouth, their nose, their ears, and even seemed to be going into their stomachs and lower regions. Their arms and legs were strapped down.

“What did you do to them? What is that?” Ceyda rasped through her gag as it got displaced while Fontaine was still dragging her up the stairs.

“Hah, wouldn’t you like to know?” Fontaine said.

“Yes! Yes I would like to know!” Ceyda shot back as they left the cellar.

“Sure, kid, I’m just gonna tell you everything. How about this, ask me again, and I’ll bite your nose off.”

Fontaine gripped the gag and jammed it back into Ceyda’s mouth.

Ceyda struggled, yelling. She tried to cast one more spell, but Fontaine just tightened his grip again, this time on her arm.

There was a ruckus from upstairs. Gabriel Blanche, his wife, and Amber Blanche hurried downstairs, with an assortment of live-in servants.

“Fontaine! What’s the meaning of this?” Gabriel Blanche asked, as he held a candle and took in the scene.

“I am being kidnapped,” Ceyda yelled as she moved the gag out of her mouth again. “You have human beings in your basement!”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

“She was trying to rob you,” Fontaine said. “And she’s the one who had it on her the first time, the one who killed all the other mages and attacked Rembrandt and myself.”

“We don’t--we don’t have a basement,” Amber said quietly.

“Yes you do! someone is kidnapping people and--ahh!” Ceyda was cut off by Fontaine punching her across her left eye.

“So, I’m gonna throw her in the well, and you can decide what to do with her in the morning,” Fontaine said. “Sound good?”

Gabriel nodded, and turned to go back to sleep.

“Dearest--that’s the Lucrece’s girl. Won’t they raise a stink if we just keep her here?”

“They should have thought of that before they raised a child to try and rob me of my heirlooms,” Gabriel said curtly. “Back to bed with us, this is officially a problem for the morning.”

Fontaine continued to drag Ceyda away, after a quick salute in Gabriel’s direction.

Amber stared at Ceyda momentarily.

Ceyda stared back.

“Merlin is down there!” Ceyda yelled, realizing she only had so many options. “And Doc! It’s in the parlor it’s--”

Fontaine hissed an invocation Ceyda didn’t recognize and viciously grabbed her face. A thin, metallic thread of his jacket became undone, and shot through Ceyda’s upper lips. Ceyda screamed, and Fontaine slammed her into the ground.

A minute of agonizing struggle later, and the thread tied itself in a knot, effectively sewing Ceyda’s mouth shut.

“Go to bed, Miss Blanche,” Fontaine said. “Don’t want you getting nightmares.”

“...yes, of course,” Amber said softly. Footsteps followed, and Ceyda was alone.

“Fight back again, and I’ll just start lopping off whichever body part is causing me the trouble,” Fontaine said tersely. “Now get up!”

Ceyda slowly struggled to stand as Fontaine still had her left arm in a death grip.

“See? Isn’t that better? Silence is bliss. Now, let’s get you to your new home,” Fontaine gave a wide grin and briefly chuckled. “And if you’re really lucky, it will be a permanent residence.”

Ceyda tried to scream at him with her tongue, but it came out as unintelligble with her lips unable to move. Blood covered her neck, her jaw, and it was rapidly dripping onto the upper part of her dress.

“What? I thought it was funny,” Fontaine said.

These were the last words Ceyda heard before she was taken outside and pushed down an empty well.