Even all the way across the railcar from Faith, I could hear her merry cry: “Why, that’s excellent news! Thank you, dear!”

Cricket’s expectant voice reminded her, “You promised food?”

“Not now, dear,” chided the Whisper. “Afterwards. Don’t you know it’s rude to keep people waiting?”

If I’d been Cricket, I’d have seized that point to insist on prompt payment, but the little ghost only pouted and drifted after her obediently as she skipped into the hallway outside our compartments.

Tap-dancing exuberantly on the scraggly carpet, she sang out, “A-aaaash! Iiiiiisha! Iruvia awaits!”

Did she think she was a travel agent? “Iruvia awaits”? I was pretty sure that Iruvia remained utterly indifferent to Ash and wanted nothing to do with Faith. As for me – well, I supposed the subpopulation comprising my House and its allies took a personal interest in my travel plans….

“Come ooooon, kids!” Faith urged. “If Isha will go not to Iruvia, then Iruvia – at least the most crucial, the most critical, the most consequential part of it – will come to Isha!”

Was it too much to hope that Na’ava Diala would slit Faith’s throat?

Just before we reached Six Towers, our crew split up to avoid attracting Hadrakin attention. Shuffling into an abandoned mansion like a beggar seeking shelter, I sprinted up the stairs two at a time until I reached the balcony on the third floor. From that vantage point, I could just discern Faith draped against a weeping willow by the canal in an attitude of extreme boredom. One street over, Ash prowled across the rooftops in search of our target. Naturally, the clouds started spitting an icy, needle-like rain that slowed his progress to a crawl as he fought to keep his footing.

As Cricket had reported, a small craft crept along the canal near Rowan Bridge, carrying two boat operators, a Whisper with arcane sigils, and two thugs who systematically trawled the depths with a large net – but no one who resembled an assassin. Their Hadrakin supervisors had to be nearby, though.

From behind the curtain of willow branches, Faith listlessly waggled her fingers, as if so drained by ennui that she could hardly move. At the signal, Cricket lifted off the bridge and drifted in wide circles over the canal, spiraling lazily towards the boat.

Alerted by some arcane sense, the Whisper on the boat spun around, clenched her lightning hook in both hands, and blasted an arc of lightning right at the little ghost. Blinding light exploded around Cricket like a cage of white fire. Stiffening as if electrocuted, she threw her head back and shrieked, a terrible sound of pain and terror that shredded the night. Both boat operators cringed and clapped their hands to their ears, and the engine sputtered out before a thug seized one of the operators by the front of her shirt. He growled something, then hurled her down in disgust, nearly capsizing the boat. She and her partner scrambled to restart the motor.

“It’s just a ghost,” pronounced the Whisper in a clear, dismissive voice. “Nothing to worry about.”

When she lowered her lightning hook, the white fire flickered out, leaving only a dim, ragged afterglow where Cricket had been. Whimpering and trailing a glittering shower of electroplasm, the wounded ghost limped back to Faith, who soothed her and drained some of her own essence to patch her up.

Just then, Ash straightened from his crouch so he was silhouetted against the grey clouds for a split second. Urgently, he signaled, Target acquired. Target acquired.

Coming, I signed back.

Flopped against the tree trunk, Faith didn’t acknowledge either of us, but all of a sudden, every single ghost within two blocks of the canal perked up, bared its teeth, and howled viciously. As if the boat had transformed into a spirit well, they all streaked as if sucked towards the canal, where they hovered in great, glowing blue walls along the banks, hollow eyes fixed on the search party. Turning around and around and trying to keep them all in sight at the same time, the Whisper looked as if she were beginning to regret taking this job.

She wasn’t the only one. A quivering Cricket was pressed to Faith’s side like a terrified dog.

With the boat party and hopefully the Hadrakin thus distracted, I pelted down the street and up onto Ash’s roof, where I cautiously crept over the broken shingles to join him by a chimney. Silently, he pointed at what was once a nice two-story house a couple blocks from the canal. Soaring above its roof was an octagonal cupola with a broken weather-vane, splintered wooden trim, and arched windows – behind which lurked a dark figure that constantly scanned its surroundings.

A rooftop approach was out of the question. Attack from below? I signed at Ash.

Yes, he replied.

Creeping up to the house, we flattened ourselves against the pillars that framed the front gate and craned our heads to survey the cupola again.

One instant it was dark and silent, a stately presence in the night sky.

The next, it was completely surrounded by Faith’s specters. Through their rippling, translucent bodies, I could just make out the dark figure backing away from the windows.

That was the opening we needed. Dashing across the front yard, we eased open the front door, tiptoed across the foyer, and made a beeline for two different staircases. My way turned out to be faster.

When I burst into the cupola, a middle-aged, hard-faced Iruvian woman raked her eyes contemptuously over my face and enunciated in Hadrathi into thin air, “Ruka, I’ve found Signy Anixis and she’s going to kill me.”

I stuttered to a halt. Didn’t she know that she’d just signed her partner’s death warrant?

Message sent, Na’ava Diala grinned at me in grim triumph. Steel caught and threw off little flashes of blue light as she slowly, deliberately unsheathed her saber.

In response, I whipped out my own sword (not Grandfather, which I didn’t trust against its own asset) and darted forward, testing her reflexes. She parried smoothly and flowed into a riposte, which I counter-parried easily. Within the confined space of the cupola, we circled each other, searching for an opening. The Hadrakin was a brilliant fencer, almost as good as I, and if I ignored the part where we needed to murder her and rip out her soul for Irimina to torture, this was almost fun.

Without warning, Na’ava yanked out a pistol with her left hand.

Now that was just unfair. Not even Mylera’s sword masters, who loved to surprise us, trounce us, and then berate us for lack of imagination, brought firearms to fencing bouts. Note to self: Train my students to fight ambidextrous foes who play by no discernible rules of conduct.

Before Na’ava could shoot me, a flurry of motion heralded Ash’s arrival. Faster than I could react, she spun around and shot him at point-blank range. With a yelp, he clapped a hand to his side, where a jagged crack now rent his armor.

In the split second when her attention was on Ash, I lunged under Na’ava’s guard and thrust at her side, piercing her armor with the force of my blow. A thin line of blood trickled down her hip, but she barely seemed to notice. Instead, she immediately counterattacked.

Meanwhile, Ash had gotten his own pistol out. Another crack rang out in the cupola, and a bullet sped past my ear to strike her full in the shoulder.

She stumbled a little at the impact but didn’t even cry out. As blood poured from the wound and soaked her shirt, a fanatical joy transfigured her face, and in her eyes I read only a rapturous “Today is a good day to die.”

Recognizing and empathizing with religious zealotry, Ash actually hesitated.

While he wrestled down his crisis of conscience, I rammed my sword deep into Na’ava’s chest. Using her own body to trap my blade in place, she swung her saber at my torso, the razor-sharp edge finding the gap in my armor just under my armpit.

I didn’t even try to dodge. Instead, gritting my teeth against the pain, I grappled her, leaned in close, and hissed viciously in her ear, “Don’t ever call me that.” Then I tried and failed to shove her backwards off my sword.

Her smile broadened.

But before she could repeat the name, Ash marched over, unscrewing a jar of electroplasm in preparation for his life-essence-sucking ritual. “You Iruvians seem to have acquired a huge number of enemies,” he informed her. “A shocking number, really.” Despite his words, his face betrayed deep regret at what we were there to do. But profit won out, as it always did with Ash, and he shot her a second time.

Tossing aside her saber and trying to staunch the bleeding with one hand, she glared hatefully at him and returned fire.

In a flash, I leaped sideways, blocking the blow with my own body. The bullet punched through my armor and creased my side, and I cried out sharply.

“Oh, next time I recommend dodging those!” Face bright with malice, Faith skipped into the cupola and bashed Na’ava on the back of the skull with her lightning hook. Far from being felled, the Hadrakin twisted her arm around and fired blindly.

“My dress!” exclaimed Faith indignantly. “You tore my dress!”

And then, because why shouldn’t we pack everyone into one tiny space for hand-to-hand combat, who should roar into the room but the other Hadrakin assassin?

Leaving my sword stuck in Na’ava’s chest, I yanked out my own pistol, pivoted, and shot Ruka before she could utter a single word.

“Isha!” shouted Ash. “She’s not our target! Shoot the target!”

At the same time, Ruka spoke in a voice that dripped with venom: “The traitor Signy Anixis.”

Thank goodness she used Hadrathi. I prowled towards her, intending to silence her before she could switch to Akorosian.

“We have a mission here, Isha!” Ash yelled.

Without taking my eyes off Ruka, I snapped, “Just kill her.”

With one last regretful sigh, Ash put away his jar, pinned Na’ava to the floor, and drew his dagger.

Out of the blue – literally – Faith’s swarm of ghosts roared in through the cracked windows.

“Run!” Ash called to Ruka. “I don’t really want to kill you!”

But it was too late. One particularly agile ghost sank into her body, which twitched horribly for a few seconds. Then her eyes opened wide, and she stared around the room as if she had no idea what was happening, and frantically scrambled out the nearest window. Faith made a quick gesture, and the rest of the swarm dove after her.

Abandoning Na’ava to my crewmates, I vaulted over the windowsill, half-skidded, half-tumbled down the roof, caught my balance on the edge of the eaves, and sprinted after Ruka.

“Isha!” Ash bellowed after me. “What are you doing? She’s not the target! Isha!” And then, sounding bewildered: “Faith? Faith! Come back here!”

The ghost possessing Ruka tried desperately to protect its newfound body, but luckily it didn’t know any self-defense skills. We ended up grappled on the gutter, each straining to fling the other off, and then Ruka’s foot slipped on the wet metal and the two of us plummeted off the roof. Midair, I desperately tried to orient myself so Ruka would hit the cobblestones first.

There was a horrible crunch.

All the breath was smashed out of me.

I found myself sprawled on top of Ruka in a jumble of arms and legs while she moaned and flailed weakly. Stunned, I struggled to push myself up, noting through a haze that my left arm wasn’t supporting my weight.

A second later, the pain hit. I’d broken my arm in the fall, and now it was curved like a scythe and most definitely out of commission.

Well, that was inconvenient but not incapacitating. Grimly, I rolled far enough to one side to free a dagger from my belt, and unceremoniously stabbed Ruka through the neck. As the life drained from her body, the disappointed ghost rose with a despondent wail and vanished into the fog.

From inside the house came the sound of footsteps pounding down stairs and Ash shouting, “Faith! Come back! Faith, get back here!” A short pause. Then, incredulously, “Faith, Faith, what is this? How is a ghost possessing you? I thought you were this great – ” The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the crackle of a lightning hook charging to capacity. “We have a ghost to extract! You’ve gotten yourself possessed, Isha is murdering someone I want to know more about – what is going on here?”

The ensuing blast and blaze of light practically flattened me again.

Then Faith’s voice chided, “Be careful with those, Ash. They’re dangerous.”

No response.

I should go check on them, shouldn’t I?

After some amount of awkward scrabbling, I managed to roll off Ruka’s body and push myself halfway into a sitting position with my good arm. That was as far as I got before Faith propelled a twitching, charred-looking Ash onto the porch.

Brushing out her skirts, she directed, “Guard Isha while I find a cab – oh!” Her exclamation contained pure frustration. “Will you look at the blood on this silk! Seriously, the two of you had better not have ruined another pink dress. These really don’t come cheap. I spent ages saving up coin for this one….” Still grumbling, she shoved Ash in my direction and flounced towards the nearest major thoroughfare.

While we waited, Ash and I clumsily searched Ruka’s body but found nothing useful. Then again, his eyes were rolling around their sockets and I still couldn’t breathe properly, so who knew what we missed?

After Faith bundled us into an obliging cab, she made an airy hand gesture and directed her specters against the party still blissfully dredging the canal. Leaning heavily against the window, I watched blankly as the ghosts possessed some of them while the rest scattered in search of spirit wardens.

The entire way home, Ash kept slurring half-formed questions at me about the nature of the Hadrakin and why I’d abandoned our mission to go after Ruka. I pretended not to understand him.