Angelica looked from one stupefied guest to the next, “Not what you were expecting, I take it.”

“Not exactly, no,” Gabriel answered habitually, “I’d heard,” he cleared his throat, “My lord had heard that Madam Albright was rather more, um, rather more…”

“More,” Angelica finished for him, “Yes, she was. There was a time when I wager the mistress could talk the god of Barter into a corner, and give even Reason pause for thought. It’s hard to believe now, I know.”

“What happened?”

“The physicians will tell you that it was grief. Well, that is apart from that one oaf who insisted that women were only meant to lend thought to men, and were not meant to exercise it independently. I chased that fool from the house, let me tell you,” Angelica regarded her benefactor-turned-ward morosely, “None of those buffoons knew her like I did. She was a strong woman, and grew only stronger in the face of adversity.”

“So what do you think caused,” Gabriel searched in vain for a delicate way to say it, “this?”

“Nothing more or less than the gods’ oldest, cruelest and favourite joke,” she smiled crookedly, “the sharpest blades dull the quickest.”

They listened in mute interest as Lady Albright strummed and sung away. It was a somber tune, and yet she smiled as brightly as the moon. Listening, it was hard not to be captivated by the woman’s absolute devotion to the moment. Sure, they were moved by the tragedy of it all, but it was impossible not to feel a pang of envy for the simplicity of her lady’s joy.

They listened as one sonata bled into the next. The music was as hauntingly beautiful as it was wrong. Bling swayed with the cadence of the melody while the others bowed their heads.

Angelica watched their reactions with interest, before clapping her hands lightly together, “I suppose I should fix some tea. My mistress would have been most displeased to be regarded as a sub-par host.”

“Thank you,” Vish, Gabriel and Figo murmured reflexively.

The stewardess cocked an eyebrow one last time, before shrugging the thought away and setting about her duties.

“Bloody hell,” Gabriel said when the matron was out of earshot.

“Some warhorse,” Vish said.

“Agreed.”

“Not even a war-pony, really,” Vish smirked.

“That’s bollocks, by the way,” Lydia said out of the blue.

“What is?”

“The thing about the sharpest blades dulling the quickest. It’s just a poor excuse for shoddy maintenance.”

“It’s a metaphor, Lydia.”

“It’s a bad one, then.”

“Okay, Lydia,” Gabriel tugged absently at the hem of his shirt, “I suppose we’d best go inside. It would look a bit strange if we were still in the doorway when Angelica gets back.”

There came a long, “Hmm.”

“Something on your mind, Vish?”

The mind-mapper went to stroke his beard and was annoyed to find that Figo had cut most of it off earlier that evening. He played with his moustache instead.

“Yeeah, not to step on your toes as the paranoid coward of the party…”

“Thanks.”

“Obliged. But doesn’t this already seem strange to you?” the mind-mapper thumbed over his shoulder, “Seems like a weird time to go and get a bunch of randoms, who wandered in off the street uninvited, a nice cuppa.”

Gabriel frowned, “Well, I have two answers for that.”

“Enlighten me.”

“The first is that our dear stewardess has suffered a similar departure from reality to her mistress. Left alone in this large, empty manor with little purpose remaining, it’s certainly not impossible.”

“The second.”

“The second is that you just really haven’t grasped quite how important tea is in The Kaden Circle,” Gabriel winked, and took the plunge into the chamber.

All cheer left the captain as his foot crossed the threshold. Even from the dimly lit hallway, stepping into Lady Albright’s room was like stepping into the abyss. Not too long ago he would have had no basis for comparison, but now a very real and recent memory was conjured up; it was like walking into a crypt.

As they followed Gabriel into this chthonic realm, each of the mercenaries shuddered from head to toe.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, Ms. Albright,” Vish said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Vish, please, a little respect,” Figo beseeched.

“Sorry, sorry. Respect. Yes. We should focus on the task at hand… Do you wanna go rob the nice old lady, or shall I?”

Figo made several attempts to speak before he finally did, “We can at least be civil about it.”

“Sure, bow-boy, you keep telling yourself that.”

Gabriel found a tatty old footstall and plonked it down in front of the elderly lady, closely followed by his behind. He scooched forward on the worn velvet (another shiver inducing moment) until he was an arm’s span away from her. Lady Albright, for her part, just carried on playing.

“Good evening, m’lady,” he bit his lip, “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Albright’s eyes glossed over the intruder so quickly that Gabriel wasn’t even sure she’d seen him. Yet, she played her stringless violin with increasing vigour, and the accompanying song became even more disjointed.

“I think you’re agitating her,” Figo warned, wringing his hands.

Gabriel sighed, “I fear you may be right.”

“These rings look legit,” Lydia said, poring over Lady Albright’s fretting hand, “Good chance they are Vagalad’s.”

“Oh joy.”

“Want me to-”

“No, Lydia, I do not want you to cut off her fingers.”

“Suit yourself,” the warrior yawned, “You know, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why did Lance give her all this crap?”

Gabriel stuck his palms into his eye sockets and squeezed, “Ah, Lydia. He did it to make her happy.”

“Pretty sure she would have been happy with costume jewellery,” she pointed out, “she wouldn’t have known the difference.”

“But he would have.”

Lydia sniffed, “People are weird.”

Gabriel craned his neck up from where he was stooped, “Yes, Lydia, he’s the fool here.”

They were thoughtful for a time.

“We suck, don’t we,” Vish said after a while.

“Yes, my dimwitted friend, I believe we do. But,” Gabriel raised a bony finger, “we can suck a little less.”

“What do you mean?” Figo asked, hope creeping into his voice.

“I think we can all agree that we don’t really want to rob this poor, senile lady blind, right?”

“Right.”

“Yeeeah, I guess.”

“Wrong.”

“Caw!”

“And we all agree that we don’t want to be executed the moment we set foot back in Gladstone,” the captain continued.

“Absolutely.”

“Obviously.”

“They can try it.”

“Figo’s mum!”

“Well, the way I see it,” Gabriel was jabbing the air now, “we were recruited to find Vagalad’s heirlooms, not to retrieve them,” he slapped his knees triumphantly, “We just tell The Duke where they are and our duty is complete. It’s up to him what he does from there.”

“Nice, nice, nice,” Vish said, one nod per word, “Never going to work, but nice.”

“And why not?”

“Vagalad does have a bit of a reputation for impatience, Gabriel,” Figo said mournfully.

“Pretty sure he’s going to see it as a kick in the nuts,” Vish elaborated.

“Okay, okay, so we take him a token! We take him something just valuable enough to keep him off our backs, but leave the rest for our dear friend, Lady Albright.”

“What’s going to make up for leaving all this crap?”

Gabriel already knew the answer, “The one thing he was adamant we get back,” he was grinning, despite himself, “the pearl.”

“Pearl?” Lydia asked.

“Yeah, the pearl. A big thing. Fist-sized, I think he said it was. It was the only thing he specifically mentioned,” Gabriel was already up and rifling through Lady Albright’s vanity stand.

“Pearls aren’t that valuable, even big ones,” Lydia grunted.

“It had sentimental value, or something. I think it was his late wife’s. I don’t know, I just know he wants it.”

“Woah, slow down there, buddy,” Vish said.

Gabriel was tearing through the room, upending draws and rifling through documents. Excitement had driven him into revelry, and he was entirely focused on that one job, that one mission, that one thing that would finally end this madness and restore normality. It was close. It was so close he could taste it. He hadn’t admitted to himself how badly he wanted it until this very moment.

“Gabriel, please.”

“Gabe, come on man.”

“Be careful, Gabriel.”

“Dude, not cool.”

“GABBY!”

Everyone froze.

So loud and shrill was Natasha’s command that the windows shook in their frames. The mercenaries’ ears rang with the echoing word.

Gabriel was aghast, “What’s the mat-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence, he was breathing so heavily.

He looked down at his heaving chest.

Gabriel tried to clutch his ribs but found his hands full of letters and dried flowers clutched thoughtlessly from Lady Alrbight’s nightstand. He had been about to cast them to the ground, clearing room so he could focus on his search.

Lady Albright was staring at him intently.

She was afraid.

As carefully as he could, Gabriel set Lady Albright’s belongings back down on the table, “What’s the matter with me?”

“We’ll help you look, Gabriel,” Figo said quietly, “but not like this.”

Gabriel nodded his gratitude, and started the search afresh.

Delicately and cautiously, they picked their way through the room, trying as much as possible to preserve the chaos Lady Albright had designed for herself. It was a laborious process, but they kept at it. They kept at it for a full turn of the wheel, and only then were they satisfied they had left no junk unturned, no rubbish untouched.

“It’s not here,” Gabriel finally admitted.

“Sorry, Gabe, we tried.”

“I don’t understand. What could have happened to it?”

“Loads of things. Lost, sold, stolen, who’s to say? It’s time to give it up though,” the mind-mapper said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“There might be a safe in the wall,” Lydia suggested, “Want me to-”

“No, Lydia,” the others said in unison.

“Fine.”

Gabriel dusted himself off, “I suppose we’d best get going before Angelica comes back.”

“Is it me, or is that tea sure taking its sweet time?” Vish observed.

“Do you think something happened to her?” Figo asked, genuinely concerned.

“I think more likely…” Gabriel’s mind was racing.

“What?”

“Nothing. We should go. Now.”

He didn’t wait for a response, Gabriel only gathered from the footsteps pounding behind him that everyone was in agreement.

They bolted out of Lady Albright’s room and down the corridor in a blink. They all but levitated down the stairs, so few did they actually touch. At the bottom, they shot straight for the entrance hall, which they essentially teleported to the other side of.

Before they even reached the front door, Gabriel was fishing for the handle. He hauled the door open like he was ripping a bandage off a dry wound. He closed it again even faster.

“Craaap,” was all Gabriel said.

“What’s the matter?” Figo asked.

“Crap, crap, crap, crap.”

“As bad as all that?” Vish asked.

“See for yourself.”

Vish opened the door a slither, and peeked outside. He closed it almost immediately.

“Crap, crap, mother crap, balls,” the mind-mapper agreed.

“Right?”

“Oh yeah.”

Lydia drew her sword.

“Not sure that’s going to cut it this time,” Gabriel had to admit.

“Not going to cut it…” Vish couldn’t help but snigger in the face of certain death.

A muffled voice called from outside, “Gabriel, Vish, I know you’re in there. Leave your weapons inside and come out with your hands where I can see them. The building is surrounded.”

“Is that..?” Figo asked.

“Tulcetar, yeah,” Gabriel said, clutching his jaw in his steeped fingers.

“And you thought she was going for tea,” Vish said, patting the captain on the back.

“You have until I finish my tea to come out,” Tulcetar called again, “and then we will storm the building.”

Gabriel gestured through the door. His expression was the non-verbal equivalent of, ‘See!’

“What are we going to do?” Figo said, unslinging and re-slinging his bow.

“Bicker among ourselves until that guy out there burns the building down and toasts our asses over its embers,” Vish predicted.

“Maybe we can reason with him?”

“Didn’t work so well for Goyun,” Gabriel reminded the archer.

“Sounds like he only saw you two. Figo, Bling and I should probably just hide in a bush or something,” Lydia said, sheathing her sword.

“That’s it!” Gabriel clicked his fingers.

“Hide in a bush?” she checked.

“Hide in lots of bushes!” Gabriel smiled maniacally, “Back we go!”

They essentially teleported across the entrance hall, shot to the stairs, levitated up them (so few did they touch), bolted down the corridor, and were back to Lady Albright’s room in a blink.

“What,” Vish said between breaths, “are we doing back here?”

“Making a miraculous escape!” Gabriel hesitated for a second, “Figo, you do still carry rope, don’t you?”

“Lots of it… Please tell me you don’t want to tie up that nice old Lady and use her as a hostage and/or human shield.”

Gabriel waved the accusation away, “Can you hit that tree over there?”

“The one in the park?”

“Just so.”

A slow smile spread across Figo’s face, “Yes, I believe I can.”

The archer wasted no time fastening a length of rope to one of his sturdier arrows. When the projectile was ready, he tied the loose end of rope to the bedpost, threw open the window, and shot the arrow into the darkness. It struck the tree with a satisfying, ‘thunk’.

Figo pumped the air, “Yes!”

“Great job! Now we just need to slide across that line and into the park. After that, we are home free! Well, after that and much running and screaming, I imagine. Still! It’s the best chance we have.”

Figo looked at Gabriel excitedly. Then, Figo looked at Lydia. His smile wavered.

“Just give me a second,” the archer said.

Figo tied rope to two extra arrows and shot them on either side of the first.

Lydia watched as Figo double checked that the ropes were securely fastened on this side of the window, testing their strength individually and as a trio. When the hunter was finished, she tore off a length of curtain and looped it over the ropeway.

“Thank you. At the same time, screw you,” she said, as she rolled off the window ledge and slid away into the darkness of Eifen Square.

“Huh, I did not actually expect that to work,” Gabriel said absently, “Well then, no sense hanging around!”

One by one the mercenaries ziplined their way into the promised security of Eifen Square. Tulcetar’s men of The Order spotted them, of course, but their spears were too short to hook the escapees as they whizzed overhead. Calls went down the line, and a detachment of soldiers was sent with great haste to intercept the fleeing party in the park. The entrance was some distance away, though, and it seemed an impossibility for The Order’s troops to catch up.

“We did it! We actually did it!” Gabriel laughed as he bounced indelicately off the tree trunk. He was the last of the five to come down.

“Credit where credit is due, that actually wasn’t bad,” Vish admitted.

There was a rustling from deeper in the park as bushes were waded through.

“You see? I told you they’d come this way,” a deep voice said from the pitch of the night.

“Well, well, well, it would seem you were right. I underestimated you, my good fellow,” a second, much squeakier voice said.

The rustling of bushes grew closer.

Vish placed his hands on his hips, “Oh no, wait, that was pretty bad. Really bad, actually.”