After what felt like months, Alex Roth stepped onto the streets of Generasi. The noise and bustle of the city exploded, bringing back memories of Jaretha’s chaos. Powerful demons had ruled there, Ezaliel had once attacked Generasi, Burn-Saw had wanted Alex dead, Kaz-Mowang had fought to the death to enslave him and his companions; those attacks were still fresh in his mind and he almost expected another one…but reason told him that another demon attack was unlikely.

Not from the former inhabitants of the ruins of Jaretha, in any case.

Kaz-Mowang, Burn-Saw, Yantrahpretaye, Zonon-In and even their mighty leader, Ezaliel, were all dead and wouldn’t be attacking anyone in the mortal world in this lifetime.

Some of Kaz-Mowang’s subordinates still lived, but they would, without a doubt, be busy picking over the ruins of their fallen master’s empire and fighting for scraps for leadership.

Alex took a deep breath, shouldering the sword on his back and touching Hannah’s precious artefact in his satchel. “We’re home,” he whispered, stepping into the crowd. “And I need a good, long rest.”

There would be much to do soon: catching up on classes he’d missed—which thankfully would be easy—making the preparations he’d told Baelin about, hunting for both Kelda’s lair, and the secret wing of the church of Uldar.

But right now?

He’d earned the right to relax a little.

With a spring in his step, he made his way through the busy boulevards and toward home. It felt good walking through the crowds without that jester’s costume on. Getting lots of attention because of Claygon and the minor fame they’d earned from the Games of Roal, was something he’d gotten used to, and drawing that type of attention was one thing, but having folk stare at him because of a wretched costume that felt way too close to his secret, was quite another.

If he had his way, he’d never wear anything like it again.

With this happy thought, he strolled down his street, eager to get home and into bed. Claygon would likely be waiting for him…unless he’d gone to campus to see Selina.

It was the middle of the day, which meant that—if Claygon wasn’t home—then the only person there would be Troy, who was experimenting with some new recipes Alex had given him.

The young wizard would have been happy to see his family right away—he had a lot to tell them after all—but a little time to himself was also good.

“I’ve had enough excitement for one day,” Alex said, climbing the steps to the bakery’s front porch and pulling the door handle. “Troy, where are you? I’m back, is Claygon here?”

Alex reached out with his mind, but didn’t feel his golem’s presence as he walked through the eating area. Maybe he was with Selena, after all.

“Welcome back, boss!” Troy’s voice came from the kitchen. A moment later, the baker’s assistant poked his head out from the back, his apron covered in flour and bits of dough. “I only saw him for a minute, then he went off to the campus.”

“Alright.” Alex started for the stairs. “Then I’m going for a bit of a nap. It’s been a rough few days.”

“Right, boss, I’ll keep going through those recipes. I should have butter bread and hot almondine pastries waiting for you if you wake up in the next hour or two.”

“Oh that sounds like heaven!” Alex said enthusiastically, making his way up the stairs.

“Oh! Before you go, though, there was someone that stopped by looking for you.”

Alex paused.

For a wild moment, he imagined a horde of angry demons casually asking Troy where his boss was. He shook away the delusion. “Was it Toraka?”

“No, a woman by the name of Lucia.” Troy wiped his hands on his apron. “She said you’d know her?”

Alex stopped cold.

His mind went back to the morning he, Ripp, Claygon and Thundar were heading out of Generasi, on their way to Cretalikon. He remembered seeing a woman that looked a lot like Lucia strolling down the streets of the city.

Was that her? If it was, she’d seemed so different: Lucia—the sky-gondola driver—was always dour, closed off, definitely no barrel of laughs, and looked like she was dragging herself along life’s bumpy road. The woman he’d seen almost seemed radiant.

Alex shook himself, realising that Troy was waiting for him to answer. “Uh, yeah, I know her. What’d she want?”

“She said that she wanted to meet with you as soon as you could make it, and that you could find her at the Royal Griffon. She’s staying there for the rest of the week, apparently. You’ve got some rich friends, boss.”

“Wait, what, rich?” Alex blinked. “Lucia?”

“Yeah, the Royal Griffon’s one of the best hotels in the district. Pretty much the only people who can afford to stay there are rich merchants, and nobles visiting the city.”

Alex blinked again. “And you said her name was Lucia?”

“Yes, boss, she gave me her name as clear as the sunrise.”

“And she’s staying in a fancy hotel?

“That’s what she said; she was dressed real nice too—Wait, is she a scammer or something? Or someone coming to curse our business? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“No, quite the opposite,” Alex muttered, turning around and heading back to the front door. Sleep would have to wait, he had to know what was going on. “This’ll be the second person I’ve seen who’s ‘come back from the dead’ in the last week. Now, where is this hotel?”

###

The Royal Griffon was less ‘hotel’ and more palace.

It was immense, taking up half a block of space in a district where land was at a premium. White stucco walls were capped by a red tile roof, and trimmed with paint in shades of royal purple and gold. Evenly spaced towers rose several stories high, each bearing a purple banner with a golden griffon emblazoned across it.

The vast structure thrummed with magic, and Alex noted tiny summoned elementals, and nearly invisible constructs darting over it like busy bees in a hive, cleaning every inch of it. The building was immaculate, completely free of road dust.

Wonderful aromas of fine foods and even finer wines drifted through open windows and a giant pair of doors wide enough to admit a wagon capable of seating eight comfortably, or even a sizable group of Grimlochs. As Alex gawked, four of the hotel’s well dressed guests came through the doorway, wearing the finest silks dyed in colours affordable only to the very wealthy.

Before he’d started his partnership with Toraka, he couldn’t have afforded to even look at this place for too long, let alone stay here. Not without touching his and Selina’s inheritance, at least.

‘So how in the name of burning Jaretha can Lucia afford to stay here for a single night, never mind a whole week?’ he wondered. ‘Did the sky-gondola company give her the world’s greatest parting wage? Unless…’

Alex’s grip tightened on his staff.

Maybe it wasn’t Lucia staying here: maybe it was a mana vampire—who’d assumed her form—that he and Troy had seen. Or maybe a shapeshifting Ravener-spawn, trying to get at him through someone he knew.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” he muttered to himself as he entered the hotel lobby. “If a shapeshifter was after me, then why would it pick Lucia? Why not Khalik? Or Isolde?”

He took in the lobby at a glance, noting marble columns, statuary and a fountain spraying…was that wine!?

“For one thing, Khalik and Isolde could actually afford this place,” he muttered, heading for the front counter and passing curious staff members and guests. He took them in as he walked by, noting their body language and ticks.

So far, no one seemed to be hiding anything. No one wore the sinister air of an assassin. No one was looking at him with anything above mild curiosity, the same curiosity that a man dressed in a crisp uniform in the hotel’s colours displayed when Alex stopped in front of his desk.

“Good day sir,” the older man said, his accent very posh, well cultivated and—if Alex was hearing correctly—slightly fake. “Might I help you?”

“Well, I think so,” Alex said, growing more bewildered. “My name is Alex Roth and I’m here to see a guest of yours named Lucia.” His eyes narrowed slightly, remembering that he didn’t know her last name. “Is someone by that name staying here?”

“Ah yes, Miss Lucia.” The desk clerk nodded, his eyes falling on an open book of names in front of him on the desk. “She informed us that we should expect your visit. Someone will take you up to her suite, Mr. Roth.”

“O-okay, then,” Alex said awkwardly.

Soon, the young wizard was being escorted to a floating stone pad that conveyed him and a porter to the third floor of the hotel. The young woman led him to a room in one of the towers—not on the topmost floor—but high enough to provide an incredible view of the district.

The porter knocked once. “Miss Lucia? Mr. Alex Roth to see you.”

“Come in,” said a warm voice, one that sent shock running down Alex’s spine.

That was definitely Lucia’s voice—calling on the Mark quickly confirmed it—but the tone? The tone sounded like it belonged to a completely different woman. His grip tightened on the staff.

The door swung open silently.

And there, standing before him, was Lucia the sky-gondolier.

Her transformation was startling.

Alex had to fight doing an obvious double take.

Her figure was fuller, for one—she looked healthier, like she’d been eating regularly, and spending time taking care of herself. She was wearing a bright yellow top, a calf length blue sarong skirt, and jewel-studded sandals. Lucia’s formerly dead eyes sparkled with an amused, mischievous energy, and the coy smile on her once dead looking mouth, spoke volumes.

She looked healthy, confident and energetic as she approached him with an outstretched hand. It was like she’d changed in both body and personality, which started alarm bells screaming in his head.

Alex took a step back, focusing on her body language for any sign of threat. A sense of…calm drifted from his staff. His eyes shifted to its glowing blooms: there was no distrust or fear coming from them, only curiosity.

The young wizard tried to keep all the scepticism he’d been feeling from his face, instead, his smile appeared surprised and easy.

“Lucia…hello.”

“Hello to you too,” she said with the same warm tone as earlier, gesturing for him to enter her suite. “Come in, have a seat.”

While the young wizard walked in, looking around, she took a coin purse and removed a hefty five gold pieces for the porter. The young woman smiled broadly, bowing to Lucia. “Generous as always, Miss Lucia,” her face lit up. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“I’ll ring if I do.”

“Of course, enjoy your visit.” The woman bowed one final time, shutting the door behind her.

Alex was looking around the sitting room: it screamed wealth, with intricately carved furniture, silken fabrics, and handwoven carpets filling a space that was definitely much showier than even his new home.

“So, first things first, I am not a mana vampire,” Lucia laughed, sinking into plump cushions on one of two couches. “So you can sit down, I won’t bite.”

Alex flinched inside, but maintained a relaxed expression.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but for a minute, I did think that you might be a shapeshifter,” he said, taking a seat on another couch across from her. “Because uh, you seem…different.”

“Different from this, right?” her voice immediately went flat, losing all animation. Her smile died and her eyes took on that dead fish gaze she was known for. Shoulders slumped. Posture wilted. In breaths, Lucia—the half-dead, overworked sky gondolier—was back.

The transformation was so startling, Alex scarcely believed it. “Yeah, not to be rude, but that’s almost the Lucia I remember.” He took in the room again. “Your fortunes must have changed. Like a lot.”

“Yes, yes they have.” She sat up again, her face softening. “And I have you and your friend Khalik to thank for that, as well as your other friends Thundar, Isolde, Theresa, your golem…”

She lowered her head. “I have a lot to thank you for, Alex.”

“I…we only gave you like thirty gold for ferrying us to the Barrens,” Alex said, confused. “I don’t think that really counts as being a lot to thank me for.”

“No, you don’t understand, your help didn’t stop there, even if you don’t know it,” Lucia's eyes shone. “You helped me again and again…well, you helped me help myself.”

Alex combed through his memories, looking for any evidence that he’d helped her in the past year. Nothing came to mind: he hadn’t seen her since that fateful mana vampire night.

His suspicion grew: what was she talking about? Was she making things up? Maybe it really was a shapeshifter and—

Lucia shifted on the couch, the action moved the neckline of her top. There. There was the scar, still reaching to the top of her chest. Unconsciously, she adjusted her clothing, hiding it again.

It didn’t seem she’d noticed him looking at the old wound.

“It’ll be clear to you after I tell you what happened over the past year,” Lucia said. “Would you like a drink? It’s a bit of a story. And when I’m finished? I’d like to make you an offer.”

“Oh?” Alex cocked his head. “What sort of offer?”

“A business offer.”