When Jack regained his consciousness, he was lying on his bed. The wounds were healed, his lungs and ribs were no longer in pain, and the laceration on his leg was treated. His body was no longer aching, though the exhaustion and dubiousness still lingered in his mind.

Jack sat up, stretching his body like it had been resting for a long time. His muscles were like unoiled machines, stiff and difficult to move comfortably.

I must’ve been out for a while, Jack thought to himself.

As expected, the door opened before he could get his mind together.

“Master,” Patrick’s voice came from the other side of the room.

“Give me some water.”

“Water and food. I will bring them up right away. Please don’t move too much.”

Having said that, Edward left the room, leaving no trace of sound on his way.

Jack threw his legs down from the bed; his blood veins pumped harder with every action. Jack struggled to put his legs down and stood up, just to instantly lose his balance and press his hands against the wall. His body seemed to be dragging him down.

Sophie entered the room with a rustling sound. She launched herself at Jack.

“Oh, my poor child,” she sobbed, “I won’t let you go this time, not again. I thought you would be like the last two years, that you just lay there, forever.”

Jack wrapped his hand around her, padding her careworn shaking back. She must have stayed up many nights.

“Mom, don’t worry too much. It was just some exhaustion.”

Sophie grabbed Jack’s shoulder and pushed him back, staring into his eyes with furiousness.

“Exhaustion?” Her voice was borderline screaming. “You were at death’s door when the teacher brought you to the Medical Center, do you know that? What the hell was the school doing?”

At death’s door? That bad?

“No way?” Jack said. “I knew my condition when I went unconscious. Were the teachers that late to the rescue.”

Sophie’s face turned grumpy, ruining her usual kindness.

“A bunch of useless teachers. What were they thinking letting the Caverwraith get so close to you without any reaction?”

Sophie’s face was blood red. Jack immediately hugged her again, padding and comforting her lest the Harper will have another bedridden member.

It wasn’t until now that Abraham appeared. He looked even worse than Sophie, his eyes surrounded with dark circles, his cheeks sunken.

“Come on,” Abraham said, “honey, you shouldn’t be so agitated. It would only make Jack feel more tired!”

Sophie glanced at her husband.

“If you said so, talk to him then. I will go down to the kitchen and help Edward with Jack’s food.”

Sophie angrily left. Abraham shook his head, smiling at her. He pulled a chair to the bed and sat down beside Jack.

“How do you feel?” Abraham asked.

“More exhausted than I thought,” Jack said. “How long was I out?”

“You had just returned to us and then this happened, almost unbearable. A week was almost as long as two years again.”

“Did mom just leave so she can find somewhere else to cry?”

Abraham laughed.

“She held back a lot when she met you, but she cried mostly because of the anger.”

Abraham then stopped and found his next words hesitating. He was worried that his child wouldn’t be able to handle this. But, seeing the recent changes, he reckoned Jack would understand and know how to deal with it.

“Patrick was given a pass,” Jack said, “without a single punishment, right father?”

Abraham begrudgingly nodded his head.

“The school had announced it was just some impulsive accident from kids. Even the mayor gave a blind eye and investigated no further.”

“What was professor Meinhard’s response?”

“Well,” Abraham rubbed his head, “the old friend wasn’t doing any better too. People are putting all the blames on him. He would be the last one to leave the Hensley alone after this.”

Jack took the water jug Edward just put on the bedhead cabinet and poured both of them a full cup.

Abraham took it and drank in one gulp. He relaxed as the cool flow of water went down, taking some of the heat of the situation away.

“The thing Patrick used to disrupt the barrier, did the teachers manage to find it?”

“As soon as they got there, they were too busy saving you from the Cavernwraith.”

“And when they returned to the students, all evidence was gone.”

“Yes. Even the recording devices in Lavia Garden were sabotaged. I only heard the story from the two kids of the Horvath and Zorzi. They come here every day, you know?”

Jack quietly pondered about all that had happened to him. Abraham turned his eyes toward the window, where outside, the rays of sunshine were flirting with the birds unconcernedly.

“If that’s all there was,” Jack said, “you wouldn’t want to have a private conversation. Somebody is backing up the Hensley, isn’t it?”

Abraham’s face hardened at Jack’s comment. Just as he had thought, Jack had quickly grasped the problem.

“Usually,” Abraham answered, “The status of a house is determined by the one backing them up. It wasn’t until one year ago that the Hensley managed to acquire the contract that should have belonged to us, and ever since, bring us down a notch.”

Jack stood up, walked toward the window for the sun to shine into his eyes, clearing his mind, and pondered some more.

Abraham stayed quiet, not giving out any more words. He wanted to hear Jack’s opinion and judge his son's capability.

After a while, Jack broke the silence.

“A Divine power?”

Abraham clenched his hands, his eyes weighing down.

“I thought so too, but why?”

Jack returned to his silence. He understood the reason behind Abraham’s question, as Divine was something too distant to them. Such power shouldn’t have any thing to do with the affair of smaller houses.

“Because the Harper was just a bonus, the real target was me.”

Abraham frowned harder. He had always considered his family and merchant guide as the cause of Jack's misshapen. It had never once appeared to him that Jack was the primary target.

“Patrick had someone backing him up,” Jack said, “he didn’t even know the purpose behind being given the barrier disruptor device. He only wanted to intimidate me, not push me to death. He isn’t smart enough to calculate something like that. Maybe it was his father, but Arnold Hensley wouldn’t take a risk like that without a way out for himself.”

Jack finished his drink, his hands pushing against the window to ease his legs.

“The power of a Divine is immense,” Abraham said, “but for a Grand Divine, it is absolute. The influence of Flavius Corvus can force one to deliberate before making a move, as if his next choice may very well lead him to his doom. Not anyone can help Arnold to overcome this fact; only an equivalent power can.”

No one was powerful enough to form an assassination plan on a Corvus child in such a sophisticated way, just to cover it up like nothing had ever happened, no one but a Divine. Moreover, the action was obviously blatant and challenging, and the one to receive all the criticism was just another Corvus’ inferior, Meinhard Honingman.

“Somebody wants to know how many pokes it takes,” Jack continued, “for the bear to bite back. The first targets on their list must have been the outcast children, to see if the foremost powerhouse of the empire would react. I suspect they even want the Corvus to respond to the aggression, creating a precursor for what’s to come, be it slander, insulting, extortion or something worse. Unresponsiveness would be a sign of weakness, but counterattacking would just escalate the situation.”

Jack’s eyes were calm in contemplation as if everything had nothing to do with him. That made Abraham more anxious. His recently awakened child, though still expressing his love to his parents, was strangely distant.

“All of this,” Abraham said, “could it be that something is happening inside the Corvus household?”

Jack remembered the forbidden faction of his family. More important was the one who allowed its existence, the emperor himself, Anton Ovidus.

“Best-case scenario, all of this is just a minor nuisance to them. I could have been overthinking.”

“And worst-case scenario?” Abraham anxiously asked.

“Well, someone, maybe a couple of people, doesn’t want the word Corvus in the empire’s dictionary anymore.”

Abraham bit his lips tightly, trying to process Jack's comment.

Jack himself knew that to link a minor incident to such a distant conclusion was quite delusional. But, he wouldn’t have given it so much thought if the mayor and other power had reacted when the second-ranking merchant guild in Oxdale had been enraged. Instead, they had chosen to turn a blind eye, letting the Harper take the full blow. Or, more accurately, the Corvus was forced to accept the outcome.

The minor power was becoming ever more vigilant, afraid of every action they had to make, for all it took was a finger snap from a Divine and a whole family name could be wiped out. The Hensley had had the guts to poke a giant, and if they were left unharmed, there could only be one explanation. The giant was being held back by someone its own size.

Jack closed his eyes. All that thinking gave him a headache. One crucial note he couldn’t quite figure out: why and how could an abandoned child like him bother the Corvus?

He turned around, putting his hand on Abraham’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry too much, father. I was just guessing.”

Abraham smiled awkwardly. He had been a merchant long enough to know how the game of politics was played. No matter how far-fetched his and Jack’s predictions were, what troubled him was that they could all happen.

For Jack, the Corvus was the least of his concern. If they dared mess with him, the Harper was also in grave danger.