“It is above the void and within death’s reach that one recognizes those who will endure from those who will fall.”

  The Reviled Words, by the Saint-Saint according to the Fifth Equivocation, -588.

  As he stepped forward, Myosotis tried to catch sight of the Necromancer above the turmoil, but he could not find him. The bodies were barely damaged, though their odor remained acrid and unbearable to anyone who passed near them.

  He counted quickly. There were only six of them—too many to eliminate without ending up dead or severely wounded, and not enough to constitute an undeniable threat or scandal.

  Myosotis pulled his veil up like a mask and breathed only through his mouth.

  Only one young man detached himself from the group and approached the immortal. He was trying, futilely, to shield his mind.

  Myosotis understood immediately who he was—and why he was here.

  “Violating my mind like that isn’t very polite…” he said with a sardonic smile toward the adolescent-looking immortal. “Where is the boy?”

  “Are you a magician?”

  The question sounded like a threat. The man did not seem troubled.

  “That seems obvious, doesn’t it?”

  Myosotis crossed the gravel courtyard but did not come too close. The group and the magician stood behind the small palisade that marked the boundary of Athanasius’s domain.

  A white crow had perched atop the stone archway that served as the entrance to their territory and cawed loudly.

  The two guards were gone. And the steward of the estate had disappeared as well.

  The door slammed behind him.

  He had no time to turn before Soulless stepped forward in front of him.

  The magician looked stunned.

  Soulless recognized him instantly—it was the same man he had encountered before being taken by Myosotis and his “carrier.”

  “What are you doing?” the immortal snapped.

  “Nothing. What you did accomplished nothing, from what I can see,” Soulless replied without turning. His face showed no emotion except a weary expression.

  The sun was nearly at its zenith. Myosotis knew there was little time left before the assembly in front of the High Temple.

  The magician turned toward the intruder.

  “Surrender, and nothing will happen to them,” he declared.

  “Return our steward,” Myosotis said. “He stays with us.” He pointed at Soulless. “And I want my brother’s body as well.”

  His tone was harsh, almost shouting, but no one was fooled. He had no real leverage.

  Soulless did not move, though questions crowded his mind.

  “Where is the Necromancer? Why are you here? Who are you to him, exactly?”

  "He's his bastard son," Myosotis revealed aloud. "He's a troublemaker, a degenerate, and a magician."

  The magician raised his eyebrows. "All this over one person? It's not very smart to insult someone capable of killing you in no time, don't you think?"

  "I know you won't kill me, because if you do, Rhodo himself will surely slaughter you, or he'll let you be slaughtered by the very people who are with you."

  The magician stopped smiling. A spark of hatred flickered in his eyes.

  “We’ve talked enough. Surrender, or we raze the house. Decide quickly.”

  But Soulless did not hurry.

  “That’s not fair. If we exchange prisoners, both sides win. What will happen when people learn Athanasius is dead and all his property has been destroyed or stolen? Your father could easily claim you killed him when they see the murder weapon…”

  “He won’t do that.”

  “Then why did he give you the weapon? You’d be the perfect scapegoat for this crime. He’d wash his hands of it.”

  Soulless glanced suspiciously at the dagger stained scarlet.

  “This? I took the weapon because I wanted to. He didn’t give it to me. And he won’t accuse me. It wasn’t even planned…”

  The magician stopped abruptly, as if he had said too much. His cheeks flushed faintly. He drew the dagger from his belt and examined it briefly.

  As though it were cursed, he sneered and threw it toward Soulless. The weapon landed two feet away.

  Soulless picked up the bloodied dagger from the damp grass.

  “That’s Athanasius’s blood, isn’t it?”

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  He almost smiled.

  Myosotis noticed but said nothing. Soulless wiped the blade against the sheet still wrapped around his naked body and handed it back.

  The magician grimaced, realizing the foolish act he had just committed.

  “What’s your name?” Soulless asked, pointing the tip of the blade at him. “Do you enjoy being an immortal’s dog?”

  “I am no one’s dog.

  Voices were heard coming from the grove leading to the Tower. The magician turned to see.

  He saw Rhodo appear before him, accompanied by Athanasius's steward, a tanned, bald, and stunted man. The latter looked defeated and drawn, but he simply nodded silently while Rhodo spoke aloud. Behind him, a middle-aged man and a young man with closed faces followed.

  Soulless was unable to hear what they were saying, but he felt his body tense and he couldn't help but tremble.

  Myosotis had turned around and, in that moment of hesitation, he swung the dagger across the path into a hawthorn bush near the house without anyone noticing.

  “Oh, we have company, I think,” the magician said, turning back to his adversaries with a mocking smile.

  Soulless hadn’t moved. If it weren’t for his frantically moving eyes and his attire, one might have thought him part of the corpse army. He was breathing again. The magician didn’t follow the line and simply frowned.

  The corpses lined up like automatons. They weren’t armed or armored. The men went to fetch the slaves and everyone was led out of the deceased’s house. Calice came out at that moment, along with the women; they were still terrified, but no one spoke. Calice stood beside the pair. She remained strangely silent. In her arms, she carried a long beige and brown fur cloak, which she offered to Soulless.

  “What?”

  "She thinks you look like a bum, that's all..."

  Soulless glared at him. But it was the Necromancer who argue first at the talking-wheel.

  "Grisald, you still haven't arrested him? You can't do it?"

  Rhodo's voice was loud, and everyone could hear it. Soulless couldn't help but feel satisfied by the other braggart's humiliation. He really seemed to be getting under his skin.

  So, his name is Grisald, he's not from around here, that much is clear.

  Soulless sensed a tension beside him. Myosotis seemed to be speaking in hushed tones, with veiled words and innuendo.

  "Stop thinking, Calice, we'll talk later. He can hear you." “No, not now…”

  She pressed herself against her uncle and slipped a folded piece of paper into his pocket, unnoticed by everyone. Rhodo then spoke in a lower voice to his henchmen and the servile steward. The game was over. Then, the steward stepped forward and declared the defeat of Athanasius and the Necromancer's victor.

  Myosotis closed his eyes and caught his breath, knowing what was to come.

  “The sacrificed man has a wife, and she will be tried and condemned for the premeditated murder of Athanasius. As for the witness to the scene, he too will be tried for treason and cowardice in the face of the death of his ancestor and a venerable immortal and guardian of the City.”

  Soulless’s eyes widened, and he blinked repeatedly before catching his breath. He had indeed heard “the sacrificed man’s wife” from the lips of this unknown man.

  What the hell is going on?

  "Who is this man?" Soulless asked Myosotis without hesitation.

  "He's my brother's steward, his front man in his affairs too. I imagine he surrendered after realizing my brother had fallen..."

  "Doesn't it bother you to have been betrayed?" Soulless stammered.

  He was stunned; it all felt like a bad dream. He thought he might wake up at any moment, but he knew it was all perfectly real. He regained his footing. He was barefoot, and his head was still spinning. Raindrops began to fall gently from the sky, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.

  "They really have Karin? It's not true, is it?"

  "No, it's true She was arrested at the same time as you, apparently yesterday..."

  "This is a fucking joke, right? Give me the knife!"

  "I don't have it..."

  Soulless's eyes widened: "What?"

  "Shh! Be quiet or they'll come near!" Calice exclaimed indignantly.

  He furtively looked left and right. Myosotis continued:

  "The best thing to do now is wait. Look at you, you can't even stand up straight. We can still negotiate..."

  "That's bullshit!"

  "Calice has a plan... And so do I. There's always a chance..."

  "What are they talking about?" Grisald couldn't help but think.

  If he had known, he would have brought his rechargeable sound kit with him.

  Soulless's vision blurred and his mind wandered.

  I'm going crazy, that's for sure.

  "Do you want to live?" Myosotis asked him in a clear, low voice, looking him straight in the eyes. "Fighting here is clearly against us..."

  Soulless looked once more at the magician and the steward, who seemed to expect something inevitable.

  "I'm ready to surrender," Soulless finally declared, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  "I'm already dead anyway," he thought.

  The steward sighed, stepped forward, and entered under the archway toward Myosotis, ignoring the ragged, doomed intruder.

  The two men worked to subdue Soulless and bound his wrists with hemp rope.

  My situation hasn't changed at all. This is a joke.

  Myosotis didn't look at the steward, and Calice advanced toward Rhodo.

  "We surrender, but it seems obvious that no one will accept it."

  “This isn’t a problem,” he said in a strangely kind voice. “Grisald will stay here with you…”

  He turned to the magician.

  “Is he armed? Didn’t you check if he was armed?”

  “Why should I…”

  The magician muttered under his breath, but he still made a point of checking. It seemed obvious that Soulless had nothing on him. The grass and damp earth were the last things he saw.

  A thin, not-quite-opaque canvas bag was placed over his head. He heard the jingle of a key, and they set off.

  Since Soulless didn’t know the area, he had no idea where he was going. They walked for about ten minutes, which seemed endless, through steep woods, along winding dirt paths, and on wide, makeshift roads.

  These were the quarters dedicated to the immortals. He couldn't help but feel disgusted by all these wasted spaces and the memories associated with him, with the image of his own small apartment, which he would surely never see again, flashing before him.

  His path ended in front of a solidly built building. A door opened, and someone shoved him roughly. He fell hard, missing the few steps into the darkness, headfirst into the gloom. He barely managed to brace himself on his forearm to avoid breaking his nose. He had to make a superhuman effort not to hurl every insult imaginable at the underlings.

  Before the light gradually increased, he couldn't see a thing, even though the bag had been removed from his head. Someone then roughly lifted him to his feet, and he was shoved again. There was a horrible, musty smell. The electro-magical unit took a while to start up, and light bulbs flickered.

  They followed a gentle slope that descended underground, seemingly leading them straight to certain death, or at least to a disappearance that would never see the light of day again.

  Soulless didn't dare look left or right. He heard whispers and a silent moan, as well as throat clearing and phlegmy coughs. He only raised his head gradually. They were cells, huddled together.

  Soulless turned his head slightly to the right, but they were empty on that side. He couldn't see anything.

  The room was roughly the size of Athanasius's apartments.

  They crossed a wide corridor before stopping in front of a barricaded door. The first man (the middle-aged man opened it with difficulty because of the lingering darkness) while the other one held his arm tightly as if he feared he might suddenly vanish into thin air.

  When the door was open, the two men pushed the condemned man back inside. And they closed it behind them immediately.

  On his knees, Soulless rose and groped for a wall or anything to lean on. It was still very dark, and whitish shadows danced before him. Light came only from the barred openings high above. Unreachable for him.

  Soulless thought he was alone, but then a familiar voice suddenly called his name. He looked around frantically and saw the one he thought he would never see again.

  "Karin?"