“There are countless contradictions among the texts that tell us of Alti. The more trustworthy ones suggest that it was a land destroyed time and again by war, if not with the beasts or the vampires, then with Atlantis.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

Illian’s confidence soon proved to be well-founded; though Silver and Bek thoroughly combed the two rooms they had access to for some method of escape, they found none. The hallway was sealed off by a door of improbable fortitude, its solid wood utterly impervious to any form of magical fire – Silver’s clothes had the singe marks to prove it – and had no discernible means of being opened. Though the shuttered windows offered a tantalizing view of the outdoors, the magical field around them was too strong for either Bek or Silver to break through, especially injured.

By the end of the day, both of them were grumpy, sweaty, hungry, and had discovered nothing magical about the chokers Illian had so glibly dubbed “selor.” They also had a list of missing items, including the dagger they had used to defeat the Zara. The only real success of the day came when she realized Cara’s magical rope had been tucked inside of her boots, the missing tail – which Bek had apparently held on to after he fell with it in the castle – knotted up with the rest. Bek muttered something about Illian not being worried that they would kill themselves, to which the wolf responded that such a thing would save their captor a lot of trouble.

To pass the time until Illian’s return, Silver sat at the foot of Bek’s bed, insisting that he not move and silently taking his criticisms as she attempted to fix the rope. She stopped only when Bek repeated for the fifteenth time that, “you can’t just knot those fibers. You’re going to have to meld them with magic or that rope won’t work as a proper conductor. Best-case scenario, it doesn’t work at all; worst case, it fails when you need it most. I’ll fix it when I stop bleeding to death every time I so much as breathe.”

Night had fallen by the time the wolf rumbled a soft warning that Illian had returned. The sound of his footsteps outside the door coincided almost exactly with a burst of light in the bedroom. Yellow flames filled one of many strange markings etched into the wooden walls, spreading with a whoosh through a narrow channel that ran across the walls of both rooms.

Then, the door swung open and Illian strode in. He took one glance at Silver with the wolf by her side, and then at Bek with the two dragons sprawled on the bed, before closing the door decisively behind him. Seijelar watched him warily, luminous green eyes gleaming in the glow of the wooden channels.

“So, you failed to escape,” Illian stated, clearly eyeing the singe marks on Silver’s clothes. She rubbed at them with her fingers. “Tell me one more thing,” he said after a moment, “you said you fought one of the Zara. Will it come after you again?”

There was a pause before Bek said, “the Zara is dead.”

Illian nodded slowly. “Killing one of the Zara is no easy task.” Neither of them said anything, though the wolf huffed agreement. Illian glanced at the silvery beast before adding, “I would like to enlist you.”

“Enlist us?” Silver repeated before he could say anything more.

Illian watched her carefully as he said, “You two speak our language well. You have no connection to the council or the MASO. I need people I can trust...in return, I’ll ensure your safety here, and answer your questions about Alti. Eventually, I’m sure we can even find a way to get you home.”

“What exactly are you enlisting us for, Illian?” Bek asked straightforwardly.

Illian shifted to rest against the doorframe. “Small tasks, mostly. Passing messages, watching people or places, collecting materials within the city. It seems to me you’ll understand if I suggest you would be better off not knowing the reasons for now.”

“Or you would be better off with us not knowing in case we get caught,” Bek translated. Illian nodded slowly.

“You would be better off not knowing as well, to be clear. Judging by your company, however,” he tilted his head at the dragons, “I can at least assure you my purpose must align with yours. At any point, you can refuse the tasks I set to you.”

He looked between the two of them then, and smiled grimly at the smoke that curled in thin black plumes from the two dragons’ nostrils. From his expression, he knew they were too young to breathe fire, if indeed someday they would. Silver had never asked anyone whether dragons breathed fire in real life.

“We accept,” Silver stated after little deliberation. Neither of them would get far imprisoned. At least if they had the freedom to roam the streets, they could find a way to escape if they needed to. Judging by the look Bek cast in her direction, he felt the same. “So, what is this council?”

“The council,” Illian explained, “is a body that includes the four generals of the MASO, the head of the knights, three representatives of the guard, and dignitaries from the largest cities within the kingdom.” Silver narrowed her eyes at him.

“And you disagree with them?”

“I disagree with their influences. You’ll find that there is no place in politics for loyalty. There is, however, a place for it amongst those who work with me. In time, you’ll meet many of them. For now, I’ll return your belongings.” Illian reached slowly towards his left hip, and after a moment, extended the hilt of a very familiar dagger. Bek took it carefully and ran his hands over the sharpened ridges of the blade.

“I had it purified,” Illian said in answer to the young man’s questioning glance.

“What about my—” Silver began.

“I’ll return your clothes shortly,” Illian said, eyeing the singe marks on her shirt once again, but now with a grim smile. “I took them to be repaired. I’ll send you to do the same with those soon enough.” Silver felt herself blush.

“I assume you are unfamiliar with the port city?” he asked then.

Silver nodded, and Bek answered, “We’ve heard stories. There are several I’d like to confirm.”

“I see,” Illian stood slowly, “then tomorrow, I’ll show you the city. I hope you see whatever it is you’re looking for.”

As Illian left the room, Bek glanced at Silver and then turned his gaze to the dagger in his hands. His voice was weary as he said, “Actually, I hope I don’t.”