In a small communal garden opposite the police station, Samuel hid in the shadow of a tree. The rain had lessened, and the smell of flowers and fresh cut grass was as thick as the drizzle that misted the air.

Though it was humid, Samuel kept his coat on. There were few townsfolk roaming the streets that time of night – most of those that did were enjoying themselves in the clubs and taverns down Green Glass Row – but a gun-wielding bounty hunter would still be easy to spot, and his coat provided good cover. But Samuel's mood was sour, and not just because of the stifling atmosphere of Ruby Moon.

The needle of the spirit compass pointed directly ahead at the police station across the street. Through the glass door, Samuel could see a duty sergeant sitting behind a desk, talking to two constables. The building wasn't particularly big, not like the police headquarters in the central district. Like so many official houses in Labrys Town, it looked almost bland, with so few windows in its grey stone walls.

A couple of hours ago a whore with a huge bounty on her head had been in Samuel's sights. Now she was safely protected from his guns, though in no less of a predicament. She had been arrested, and there was no way Samuel could just walk into the station and deal with her. Even Old Man Sam wasn't good enough to take on the Labrys Town Police Force.

She's a magicker, Marney had said, did you know that, old man? Of course he did. He just hadn't cared.

But he cared now.

Bounty hunters kept their ears to the ground, always listening for the next contract – the client didn't find you, you found them – that was how it worked. Samuel was good at hiding himself between jobs, but this time someone had tracked him down. His employer had remained anonymous, as was often the case in the Labyrinth; dirty deeds were always safer if the 'dirt' was on another's hands. Samuel's employer had sent an avatar, a ghostly presence of blue light. This avatar had discovered Samuel's hideout, and had come offering a generous contract for, as it turned out, killing a changeling.

If there were any practicing magic-users left in Labrys Town, they would keep themselves well-hidden through fear of discovery, arrest, execution. The true identity of Samuel's employer had to be a magic-user; no one could conjure an avatar unless they were an adept. But things were no longer making sense to the old bounty hunter.

The girl was a changeling, and, as such, to any magic-user, she was worth much more alive than dead. The blood of a changeling was an efficient catalyst for creating powerful spells, yet Samuel had been employed to kill Clara, not harvest her blood. It just didn't add up.

From the shadows of the tree, Samuel watched as two patrolmen walked along the street towards the police station. The violet light from streetlamps gleamed off their black, bowl-like receptor helmets. They entered the station, removed their helmets, and conversed briefly with the duty sergeant before wandering off further into the building – probably ending their shifts for the night.

Samuel was caught by indecision, an unfamiliar state for him. He knew what he had to do next, but it was difficult for him to accept it. He struggled to believe what he had witnessed. Perhaps he was mistaken. He closed his eyes and once more replayed events in his head.

Marney was shot by an ice-bullet. Golems claimed her frozen body and dragged it through a portal. On the other side of the portal, in a chamber bathed in silver light, a man stood watching. There was some kind of plant or tree behind him. He wore a dark cassock. His hair was long and white; his skin almost as pale as an albino's. In Samuel's memory, his face was serious, but there was a smile on his lips, as slight as it was grim. He appeared ageless, looking exactly as he had when he had last been seen in Labrys Town. He was absolutely the man Samuel remembered from a long time ago. But it just couldn't be him. That man had died during the Genii War.

A snapping sound fizzed in the damp air, accompanied by the squeal of metal on metal. The old bounty hunter opened his eyes to see a tram pulling up outside the police building. It had a large square of dull silver riveted to its side. As Samuel looked at the symbol, he felt his resolve hardening.

The trams of Labrys Town were uniform, their bulky bodies painted a bland cream colour. But this tram was sleek and utterly black. Its windows were tinted so dark that it was impossible to see inside. The silver square on the side was the only decoration, and Samuel knew well what it represented.

A door slid open. A lone man disembarked and closed the door behind him. He stood before the police building. He was a small man, elderly, dressed in a smart suit and tie. He looked over in Samuel's general direction and gave a sardonic smile. Samuel swore and stepped further behind the tree. The elderly man then entered the police station, and the duty sergeant jumped to his feet as though he had been shocked.

Samuel looked at the spirit compass in his hand. With a calming breath, he screwed on the cap and slipped the device into his coat pocket. He no longer needed it to keep tabs on the girl.

He knew exactly where she was headed next.