Gunnar didn’t dare move during the journey. Somewhere in the distance, he began to hear the clamor of the war games Sheira had described, but the streets they passed were empty and quiet, not even any lights in the windows. They rolled past the opera house where Gunnar had first met the masters, and there was not a person in sight. At first, he thought it strange that there were no rioters or looters in the nicer business and entertainment districts of the city.

But he supposed the trading hubs down by the harbor were where most of the goods to be looted actually were.

Just above his head, there was a small curtained back window into the carriage. Though it was dark enough outside that it was doubtful anyone would see him, Gunnar didn’t dare rise from his crouched position. Even facing backwards, he quickly realized that they were not heading toward the massive estates of the high lords like he’d expected. He recognized the wooded park outside the Golden Hills passing on the right side of the carriage, and they soon reached the gates outside the district for middling nobles.

The carriage slowed to a stop. In the distance, Gunnar could see the glow of flames hovering over the towers of the High City. If there was going to be a guild war, it made sense that they’d target the most powerful nobles, but out here in the Golden Hills, there seemed to be little activity, threatening or otherwise. But the guards were on high alert. All along the wall sequestering the Golden Hills from the rest of the city, Gunnar could spot little fires.

Gunnar heard the voices of a pair of guards as they reached the carriage.

“Not safe to be out on a night like this,” one of them said with a nervous edge to his voice.

“We’ll need you to be moving along,” said the other guard.

“Just trying to get my master home safe,” said the carriage driver.

“Sorry we can’t let anyone through. Captain’s orders.

The coach door opened. “It’s alright, good sirs.”

“Oh, Lord Zeda,” said one of the guards.

“We appreciate your vigilance. It is the reason the Golden Hills remain unharmed while the rest of the city descends into chaos.”

“Thank you for understanding, sir.”

Master Zeda chuckled softly. “Oh, I understand very well.” His voice turned creepy and unnaturally soft, and Gunnar thought he must be casting a spell over the guards. Focusing his Spiritual Sight, Gunnar could sense the soft pulse of Mana emanating from the carriage.

“I’m sorry, sir, orders are orders. For the safety of everyone living in the Golden Hills.”

Master Zeda grunted irritably, his spell apparently not powerful enough to manipulate these guards.

Gunnar tensed, waiting for the sound of their inevitable deaths.

But just then, a sentry came rushing up. “Something broke just through the line on the wall.”

“What do you mean something?” one of the guards demanded.

“I-I don’t know,” the sentry said tremulously. “It took out two of the men on the western wall. They’re ripped to shreds.”

“It came from outside the city? Shit, Thailen is going straight to hell in a hand basket—look, I’m sorry, Lord Zeda, but we’ve got to go.”

“I trust you wouldn’t dream of leaving one of the lords of the Golden Hills out here alone with vile creatures on the loose.”

The guards silently pondered for a brief second. Long enough for another pulse of Mana, and Gunnar had the feeling the strange circumstances had weakened their Resistance to Magic.

“Oh, very well. Be quick.”

The gates groaned open and the carriage moved forward. Though it was the middle of the night, Gunnar sunk into his enchanted cloak as they passed the guard outpost. It didn’t matter. The guards were not even looking at the carriage. They spoke frantically about whatever it was that had killed their comrades, but as much as Gunnar strained to hear, it was too difficult to make out their words over the clacking of the carriage wheels on the cobblestone.

Gunnar really needed to get ahold of some sort of sound enhancing spell. Though it was just as likely that the whole thing with the creatures at the wall had been fabricated by Zeda, and was just another part of his manipulation.

As the carriage slowed to climb the winding lanes between the lords’ estates, Gunnar could see several guards pouring from the outpost and rushing toward the western walls. He’d never heard of any monsters in the woods around Thailen. If there were some now, it could really jeopardize the crypt entrance outside the city.

But there were greater problems at hand.

He messaged Sheira, letting her know there was a disturbance on the western edge of the Golden Hills, which might allow a window of opportunity elsewhere on the wall.

The carriage passed by Dravingdel’s estate, which was dark and eerie in contrast to the last time Gunnar had been here. After cresting a hill, they began to descend into a small valley dotted with several large estates.

As the carriage began to slow at a wide entrance, Gunnar leapt from the luggage rack, landing in a roll. Then, he ducked behind some bulbous bushes and watched as Lord Zeda and his Rogues led the bound and gagged Leilani inside a three story manor.

A soft crunch to his left set him on high alert. There were no red dots on his MiniNav, though, they likely wouldn’t show up until he physically saw them.

He spun, careful not to brush against any branches.

About fifty yards away, a lone figure crept toward him in the darkness. It was remarkably quick for how little sound it was making, and Gunnar’s whole body tensed. Still no red dots on his MiniNav.

Hand hovering at his Shooting Star, he activated Scan.

“Sheira?” he hissed.

The figure froze for a moment, and then shrugged and changed to an all out run, coming to a halt beside him, breathing calm and steady.

“A little heads up next time?” Gunnar asked. “I almost chucked a blade at you.”

“I told you I’d meet you,” she said. “And you wouldn’t have hit me anyway.”

“It was a Shooting Star.”

“A Shooting Star I would have caught midair and sent right back at you.”

Gunnar shook his head with a soft smile. “How’d you get here so fast? I just messaged you about the wall a few minutes ago.”

“I was already here by then. I hopped the wall while the guards were arguing about whether to let Zeda through or not.”

“Oh,” Gunnar said. “Nice work.”

“What have we got?”

By now, there was a lone sentry—Gunnar guessed it was the driver—who stood beside the carriage door. Everyone else had retreated into the manor with Leilani.

“There were three Rogues plus Zeda in the carriage,” Gunnar said. “But who knows how many are already here.”

“How many of your masters do you think they have?”

“I guess I assumed it was just Leilani.”

“You don’t think this is the same person who was taking the others?”

Gunnar hesitated. “When the first wave of arrests happened, all the Nighthawks got notifications that our masters had been captured. There hasn’t been anything like that about Leilani.”

“Isn’t that strange?”

“Of course, it is. That’s why I don’t think there’s more. Maybe those arrests were official. Imperial or something.”

“And this? Why bring her all the way out here?”

“I don’t know,” Gunnar said. “All I know is Leilani may be our only hope for a future with the Nighthawks, and I’ve got to get her out of there.”

“Your best shot at Stealth is probably alone inside. I’ll scout out the grounds. I guarantee there’s more guards around here. I’ll try to clear out as many as I can, and I can offer some covering fire when you make a run for it.” Sheira patted the Arcane Bolt slung over her shoulder.”

“You know, for someone who is so resistant to being part of a guild, you sure are a good guild member.”

Sheira didn’t smile. “I choose what I want to do, and who I want to help.”

“Seriously,” Gunnar said. “You’re a good friend.”

Sheira held his gaze for a moment, then shrugged. “Don’t get all mushy on me.”

Gunnar clasped her hand. “I’ll DM you when we’re heading out.”

With that, Gunnar sprinted across the field toward Zeda’s manor.