“What’s the plan?” I asked, rubbing my hands together.

  “I think we may have a few minutes before the attackers show themselves,” my father replied, lashing a few probing strikes with his new sword. “I feel confident they haven’t intercepted the others yet.”

  “Maybe it’s because they know they can’t escape,” Baryon commented bitterly.

  “Do you think someone is hiding in the entrance hall? It’s possible,” Father mused out loud. “But that’s unlikely. I have the feeling their plan wasn’t that elaborate. Judging by the resources they used to cast that powerful spell, I’d say they were all in on that.”

  “Or maybe they just didn’t care about the money,” my mentor suggested, his tone still oddly pessimistic.

  “If they thought a spell would be enough to overwhelm the Empire, they were gravely mistaken.

  “Someone may be posted outside the theater to see if the Imperial family managed to escape, but the main force will be coming here,” he concluded.

  “Could be.”

  “Anyway, we can’t all hide and leave the box empty. They’ll need to believe someone’s still here, or they’ll figure out the others’ve escaped,” he continued.

  “Mister Baryon, do you by chance know any spell to change appearance?” Bianca asked. “I’ve been told some conjurers use water mana to create illusions of sorts, something like a mirage.”

  “Yeah, that was exactly what I was thinking. As skilled as they might be, they shouldn’t be able to figure it out too quickly. But what would our strategy be then?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “Well, I guess we’ll take on the appearance of the Imperial family, right? We’re a bit short on numbers to pull it off convincingly.”

  “Even so, it’s the most logical option. No one except the Emperor and the director knew we’d be in the Imperial box,” Father observed, still deep in thought.

  Even without considering my family’s presence in the box, we were still missing a couple of people to recreate the perfect scene.

  “Someone’s approaching the entrance to the box, and they’re in a bit of a hurry,” Bianca whispered, tugging at my sleeve. Her eyes shone with a strange light, one I would’ve surely recognized as unnatural in other circumstances.

  “How do you know?”

  “Later,” she cut me short, just as the footsteps became audible to the rest of us as well. Judging by the sound, whoever it was, they were running.

  “Not to rush you, but time is running out,” Baryon checked his staff, as if making sure everything was in its place. It was like a nervous tic of his.

  My father sighed in irritation. “Fine. We’ll pretend the Empress and Princess Deleys didn’t come to the theater.

  “Maybe their target is just the Emperor. Baryon, disguise me and Arda as the Emperor and Prince Raeran,” he ordered.

  Then, pointing to a column near the box’s railing, he added, “Bianca, you hide behind that column.”

  There was enough space between the column and the wall for someone to stand hidden.

  “Stay there until I call for you, understood?”

  Bianca didn’t need a second invitation, darting behind the column where she quickly disappeared. From this side of the box, she was completely out of sight.

  Baryon’s staff glowed with blue and green lights as he finished the spell. The shimmering particles left his staff, encircling us. Immediately, our bodies began to change.

  It felt so strange. I could see myself shrinking, and reddish curls falling into my eyes, yet I felt just as if the spell had never been cast.

  Looking down, I saw that I had transformed entirely into the prince; my master’s spell had even replicated his outfit.

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  Turning to Father, I was met with the unmistakable image of the Emperor.

  “It worked,” I commented, fascinated.

  My voice had changed to replicate Raeran’s. It felt surreal.

  “Stay alert,” Baryon warned us while assuming the form of Boelong. “The spell won’t last long, a few minutes at best, so it’s possible you could revert to your original forms during the fight.

  “Also, the sudden change might disorient you temporarily. I’m not that good with healing spells, so try not to get hurt too badly.”

  My father nodded, drawing again his new sword.

  “Arda, hide behind that chair. But not too much—they’ll need to see you. We can’t afford to blow our cover too soon.”

  “Alright, Father, good luck,” I said before running behind the chair Baryon had created some time ago.

  “Bianca?” I called in a whisper to avoid making noise.

  “I’m here,” she replied in the same soft tone.

  Let’s just hope everything goes smoothly.

  The curtain that separated the box from the antechamber was suddenly ripped apart, falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

  “Who’s there?” shouted Father. “Who dares to threaten the Imperial family?”

  The newcomer didn’t bother to answer. With a swift movement of his wrist, he hurled something at my father.

  There was a metallic clang as the object fell on the ground, easily deflected by my father’s blade.

  It looked like a throwing dagger.

  “Not in the mood to talk, huh?” Father remarked. A frown flashed on his face, but quickly disappeared as he locked eyes with his opponent.

  “Boelong, intercept his companion. Whatever happens, do not let him get close to the prince.”

  For a moment, I thought the old mage had come back, but actually, Father had been talking with Baryon.

  This spell’s giving me a headache already.

  My master nodded, and a blue lightning bolt shot out from his staff, leaping at the wall.

  On the ground, missed by a hair breadth, was another hooded figure. Like his companion, he wore a white tunic. Their faces were hidden under the hoods of long, flowing white cloaks.

  There were no crests or symbols to help me identify them.

  The one who had just avoided Baryon’s lightning bolt got back to his feet in one smooth motion, drawing a short sword from his side.

  He immediately lunged at my master, who blocked the first strike with his staff.

  Baryon held his ground, pushing the attacker back with a firm shove.

  The two exchanged blows, each trying to wear the other down.

  My master’s spells never seemed to hit their target. Similarly, the man in white couldn’t land a clean strike on Baryon. Every attempt was either blocked or deflected at the last second.

  Meanwhile, Father was trying to extract information between one exchange and the other, but he wasn’t having much luck.

  His opponent wasn’t very talkative.

  “Who hired you?” He asked, studying his adversary. “What is your goal?”

  Come on, just amuse him for a bit, I thought, shifting uncomfortably behind my cover.

  Through all of this, I stayed hidden behind the chair, carefully observing the fight unfolding before me. Baryon was right, there was much to learn from the sidelines.

  I noticed, for instance, that Father was always moving and shifting on his feet to keep himself on the attacker’s unguarded side, or positioning so he could deflect his blows with the sword.

  He studied the situation carefully, moving in small steps and exploiting every tiny opening to launch a counterattack.

  When they weren’t busy trying to land a blow on each other, they circled each other, waiting patiently for the smallest mistake to slip through.

  As for Baryon—

  “Arda!” Bianca whispered urgently. The noise of the battle had nearly drowned out her voice.

  “Shhh! Keep quiet, they might hear you!” I hissed back.

  “Not the time,” she rebuked me. “Someone else’s coming.”

  After a beat of hesitation, she added, “I’m not completely sure, but I think there’s someone out there.”

  I shuddered. I was joking when I said I’d be on guard against bird-terrorists.

  Lowering my voice to a barely audible whisper, I asked for confirmation. “Beyond the railing?”

  “I don’t know, maybe.”

  With a sharp breath, I gathered my courage and crawled toward the spot she had indicated.

  I slowly rose, feeling around with my hands until I found the edge of the railing.

  Gingerly, I leaned over, ready to pull back at the first sign of anything out of place.

  I stuck my head out.

  And… nothing. There was no one out there. Just the unconscious crowd, several yards below us.

  “All clear, Bianca, no one’s here,” I whispered back.

  I crouched again, preparing to crawl back behind the armchair.

  “That’s weird,” I heard Bianca murmur. “This is the first time my senses fooled me.”

  As her voice faded away, lost in the turmoil of the fight, a drop of water landed on my head, slowly dripping down into my eyes.