“Are you sure about this?” Dallion asked.

When Jiroh had said he might have to go through a lot to reclaim his stolen gear, he didn’t think this was what she had in mind. He had suspected it might be dangerous, risky even, but he didn’t think that the plan would involve storming a tavern of awakened in one of the shadiest parts of Nerosal, to be precise it was part of the city in name only. It turned out that there were two neighborhoods located outside of the city limits—beyond the walls. One of these places, known as Grey Harbor, was in fact a remnant of the war. Located on one of the large rivers that provided water to the city, it was composed of a series of docks, warehouses, and taverns, with the occasional fisherman’s shack in-between. Technically, there was a large guard outpost located a few miles away, but as Dallion had been told, they were there exclusively to guard against creatures from the wilderness and didn’t bother with dealings that transpired in the neighborhood. Not that was the cause of Dallion’s concern, though. Since the group Jiroh had gathered was vastly outnumbered, the plan was to swim to the tavern that his attacker was believed to be at, and attack.

Dallion was perfectly alright with the attacking part of the plan. The swimming, though… not so much.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Euryale smiled. “We’re all grownups here.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Dallion replied. “I don’t know how to swim.” Not to mention he was terrified of doing so. “Are you sure she’s there?”

“No doubt about it.” A cluster of the gorgon’s snakes stretched in the direction of the tavern. “She’s there alright and so is your harpsisword. It seems to be attracting a lot of interest. I can’t see the shield, though.”

Dallion felt a block of ice form in his stomach. He was worried about what could have happened to the dryad guardian, just as he was terrified of what might happen to him when the general finds out that he’d lost his shield. Hopefully, the item was just out of sight and not sold or bartered.

“You’re an awakened. Just hold your breath and I’ll pull you all the way there.”

The offer was outright humiliating, but sadly, Dallion knew he had no other choice. At this moment he was almost glad that Jiroh hadn’t managed to find Vend while forming their small assault team. Unfortunately, she had convinced Spike and Grunt to come along. Dallion had no idea how she had managed, but apparently her relations with the guild went way back. For that matter, Eury also seemed well known by the guild, despite making it a point that she’s “unchained,” which meant not associated with any organization.

“Grunt can always throw you here.” Spike smirked. Looking at him, it was difficult to tell whether he was being literal or not. From the little Dallion had seen of the man, he was the sort of type that loved getting into fights. Possibly that was the reason he had agreed to join in so easily.

“In the end it’s up to you.” Jiroh turned to Dallion. “It’s a forty-minute swim there. If you don’t think you can manage, just say so and we’ll call this thing off.”

That was the crux of the matter. Dallion wanted to get his gear back, he wanted it very much, but his fear of water paralyzed him, even with all the adrenalin in his veins. A sneaky voice in the back of his mind had already started whispering that it wasn’t worth it to drown for a few weapons. Even if the armadil shield belonged to the general, he could still claim it as his once he fulfilled the cane’s destiny. Or he could keep paying three gold every month until the end of his days, provided the general allowed it.

“Alright,” Dallion said, his body still fighting the thought.

Music, Dallion thought. Now was a good time to test whether he could affect himself. It didn’t have to be anything major, just a slight nudge. Picturing his lungs, Dallion relaxed his breathing.

“I’ll do it.” Dallion’s voice sounded more melodic than before, conveying the sense of joy in it. “I’ve gotten this far, so I’ll go to the end.”

The blue hue of joy flickered before his eyes. Dallion looked down at his chest to see a small grape-sized blob resonate with the feeling. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. The irrational fear had gone, and with it the reluctance of swimming. He still didn’t know how to, but he knew that thanks to his body level he could manage to stay in water for long enough.

“Good.” The fury nodded. “Just remember no sharp object when we get there. We’re not turning this into a war.”

“And if they don’t follow those rules?” Spike asked, his voice resonating with hope they wouldn’t.

“Leave that to me.” Euryale rubbed her hands. “Now let’s get going.”

The water was quite cold, but Dallion didn’t mind it. His endurance had grown on par with his senses. He would have preferred it to be warmer and cleaner, but he could definitely tolerate it. The rest seemed the same. The gorgon was the only exception—she appeared to love the chill, taking her time entering the river, savoring every moment. She was the one who would pull Dallion to the tavern. The only thing he had to do was hold his breath and not struggle.

Forty minutes. That was the amount of time Jiroh had said the swimming would last. Given the speed at which everyone propelled forward, Dallion could assume that the tavern was quite a distance away. That was somewhat surprising—he had expected the mirror pool to be closer to the city walls so as to come and go as quickly as possible. Instead, they were in one of the furthest part of the “neighborhood.”

The silence during the swim was almost unnatural. Only now did Dallion realize how used to the shield he had gotten. Normally not a moment would pass without the dryad guardian asking for something, cracking a joke, or making inappropriate comments. It had become part of the background, if sometimes annoying.

You better not have gotten yourself in trouble, Dallion thought. Then again, he was the last person to talk.

After ten minutes Dallion noticed with astonishment that he didn’t feel the need for air. True, he hadn’t put in a lot of effort—being pulled like a rag-doll—but even so, this was beyond normal. From what he had remembered, the world record back on Earth was about twenty minutes. If that was a guideline, he could easily last over an hour without taking a breath. Given the clear advantage the awakened had, he pictured what it would be like if a few managed to find their way back home. For one thing, professional sports would be a lot more boring.

Three quarters of an hour later, Eury slowed her pace. Even in the murky water, Dallion could see the wooden pier pilings. If Jiroh was correct, the tavern had to be right above.

Euryale pulled Dallion closer, then let him go. To his surprise, he didn’t sink, remaining at his current depth. A quarter of the gorgon’s snakes turned his direction, after which she made him a sign to hold still.

One by one, the rest of the group arrived at the spot. None of them were armed, although Dallion could never be certain about Spike. All attention was focused on Euryale, who then gave a sign it was alright to surface, and so everyone did.

The air was thick and smelly, making Dallion want to go back underwater. Alcohol mixed with the rest of the smells, masking the more terrible parts.

No one said a word even though they could. Doing so near other awakened was too risky, even when special whispering was used. All they could do was follow the plan. After a single nod, Jiroh went back underwater, swimming off. The rest split up into two groups heading towards different parts of the pier. The moment of truth was at hand.

Dallion and the gorgon formed the group that was to enter by the side entrance of the tavern. With a single flue action, Euryale pulled herself out of the water, climbing up the piling. Once there, she took the rope round her waist and threw it to Dallion. He grabbed it and waited to be pulled up.

There was no point being silent now, all that was of significance was speed. It was the plan for Dallion to enter first. Being the least experienced of the group, and unable to hide his presence, his role was to attract as much attention as possible, making it easier for the rest of the group to engage in a surprise attack.

Here we go, Dallion took a deep breath and opened the door.

The inside of the tavern was very different from the outside. The floor, walls, and tables were in flawless condition. There were no stains, pieces of broken glass, or even specks of dirt anywhere. Several pots of incense burned, filling the whole place with a pleasant aroma. Judging by the smell, even the spirits were top shelf.

Initially Dallion was taken aback, but considering this was a hideout for awakened, it made sense. No awakened would suffer in filth unless forced to, especially in their hideout.

The moment he entered, all eyes turned his direction. Looking around, though, Dallion couldn’t make out any of the faces. He knew that he had seen them, but a fraction of a second later, the image disappeared from his mind.

Dis-focus, he thought. Still, that wasn’t the only means through which to identify someone.

“That sword is mine.” Dallion pointed at the harpsisword by the bar. Three people were sitting near it. None of them seemed familiar, yet Dallion knew that one of them was the thief that had stabbed him earlier this morning. “As well as that shield.” Thank the Seven for that, he thought in relief. “I’m here to take them back.”

The silence was complete. For several seconds no one made a sound, determining whether this was a joke. Normally people didn’t just enter into a mirror pool hideout, let alone demand things. Several of the people glanced out of the windows to check whether there was a squad of city guards outside. Upon seeing none, they directed their attention back to the intruder.

“Didn’t you get enough this morning?” a familiar voice asked.

“Apparently not.” Dallion smiled. Part of the plan was for him to act as arrogant as possible, which to a degree came naturally. His words made several people stand from their seats. One even reached for a dagger.

“Not a good idea,” Euryale said, standing behind Dallion. “If you really want to play, I’ll play. Do you want me, though?”

Music, Dallion thought. He could see the fear radiating from half a dozen people. None of them wished to face a gorgon in every sense of the word.

“Yeah, we’re just here to have a word.” Spike came in from the main entrance, followed by Grunt, who made the door seem small. “Well, a bit more than a word.”

“Coming to visit with a gorgon hunter,” a bald man, all in tattoos, said from behind the bar counter. Unlike everyone else, his face was memorable. If Dallion were to guess, that made him the tavern owner or a person of importance, possibly even a mirror aristocrat. “You’re a long way from your shop, threat forger.”

“People keep telling me that,” the smile was audible in Euryale’s voice.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing. I just don’t like it when someone ruins something I’ve made. I put a lot of effort into that shirt and I wanted to see the face of the person who shredded it.”

The tension increased. Dallion could see the fear in the room fade away, replaced by eagerness. It was no longer a matter of if there was going to a brawl, rather it was more a matter of when.

“Just so you know, dis-focus doesn’t work on me.” The gorgon turned her face in the direction of the thief.

There was a sudden blur. The thief disappeared from her seat near Dallion’s harpsisword only to appear an instant later beside the gorgon, knife in hand. Euryale had also shifted position, taking a defensive stance, her snakes keeping a good look at the entire room and every person in it. Both had lightning-fast reflexes and the unwillingness to back off.

“Good reflexes,” Euryale said. “But you’re no awakened.”

“I don’t have to be awakened to deal with you.” A second knife flashed in her left hand. Before she could strike, though, a new hand suddenly appeared in the air, snatching the knife away with ease.

“And what about me?” Jiroh asked, holding the weapon.