My thoughts freeze in place, my body goes out of control. Breathing accelerates, shoulders tense, heartrate increases, hands quiver – the usual signs of stress. Though, of course, the lack of control is by my enhanced standard. Count Vithal, who does not seem to have any particularly potent enhancements, does not seem notice my reaction. Or at least I keep it controlled enough to be in line with the level of surprise one would expect for someone who just learned about an Anar cultist in the broad vicinity.

  The body wasn’t one of mine, was it? I race through memories of every kill I’ve made since coming here and confirm that I properly disposed of all of them. It must be someone else.

  “Who…when, where… how…?” I stutter, evidently not retaining quite the level of control that I thought.

  The count smirks. “I think you’re missing one. But I understand. It is disturbing to think that they might have found a way to perform their vile act even here. To find a way to sneak through all the divinations we perform daily precisely against such things. But you’d be na?ve to think that they’re the only one to figure out how to get past the corpse divinations.”

  “Of course not,” I shake my head, blushing at the idea that I might be as na?ve as she’s suggesting, despite the fact that I have personally exploited those very gaps she’s suggesting I might think to be impervious. “I was just surprised that they’d show up so soon after losing Caethlon. What could they even be doing here? How do you even know it’s even the same Anar cultist?”

  She nods. “I understand your surprise. I thought for certain that they’d go into hiding for a few decades. I also thought it might be a different cultist, but I managed to get on the list to consult one of our highest level diviners. I just came from seeing her before class – it’s definitely them.”

  My mind reels at this, and I begin to doubt my own memory. After all, if one of the renowned oracles said I did it, who am I to think otherwise?

  In Caethlon, there were people who got very drunk whenever they could. They did things that they claimed not to remember. Killed people we weren’t planning on killing. I don’t drink to that level, but it is a precedent for unremembered actions. Could I, in the throes of my desire for the pleasure of sacrifice, have entered a similar state and killed someone sloppily? Perhaps in my sleep? I could see myself doing that maybe, when the itching got bad enough... Wasn't there a moment on the boat...?

  I don’t remember any unexplained gaps in my memory, nor any morning that I woke unexpectedly tired. But if my memory is already suspect… But no, I wouldn’t just have to forget the killing, but at least sixteen hours after while I was still under the boon. I can’t imagine having a gap that large without noticing it.

  So that leaves the oracles being wrong… or maybe not. It’d be suspicious to ask for the precise wording of the divination. But I suspect that the Count didn’t ask if I killed this particular person, but rather just if I was in the capital. Or maybe even if I had killed people here. The answer to that being yes. Naturally, the oracle – being perpetually extremely busy with matters of state far more important than catching a lone killer – did not do follow up divinations to give more details. After all, their divinations take a lot longer than the ones I do in the field. Even longer than my anthropomancy – the cost of their reputed near infallibility.

  “What are you thinking?” she asks, noting my prolonged silence.

  What do I say to that? I shrug nonchalantly, hoping to pass my silence off as fixating on something unlikely that I’m trying not to be embarrassed about. “I’m just wondering about the timing. The week of the equinoctial. Somebody mentioned that the Biblio had its own astrologically tied rituals. Maybe they’re tying the sacrifice into something bigger than just gaining boons.”

  Which, as much as I hate to give them hints, is true. Timing a ritual to events in the heavens doesn’t make the boon more powerful, but it can have strange effects. The simplest being to time an anthropomancy to it, which makes the divination more powerful, both in the finding and the hiding. But there are other effects that can be achieved too. Subtler effects to influence whole regions. Slight statistical weights on weal or woe.

  Unfortunately, that is the one section of the Biblio I understand least. Full of metaphors of rising and lowering tides. In Caethlon, we would, of course, go out of our way to make appropriate sacrifices at the appropriate times when it wasn't too much trouble, and things would seem to go better for us immediately after, but I’d be lying if I said I fully understood what I was doing. I have a slightly better understanding now, but haven’t been using it as my sacrifices have all been opportunistic, rather than something I deliberately time.

  Perhaps I should have been deliberately timing them. The effects might have been subtle, but widespread. Who knows what damage I could do with one performed in the capital. So many people mean so many chances for woe to find a hold.

  “Interesting idea,” she says, deep in thought. “I hadn’t considered it because they only seemed to have performed maybe three such astrologically tied sacrifices in Caethlon, which could have just been coincidence, so it didn’t seem to be in line with their methods.”

  Not quite accurate. I did at least a few dozen… though now that I think about it, they should only have the abridged Biblio that the patriarch gave his followers, which only had a handful of such rituals in it. So, it’s likely that they didn’t realize that certain kills were ritual related.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Unfortunately, while I made a good show of it, offering up ritual as an excuse for my being lost in thought, I can’t remember any rituals tied to the equinox. Though she doesn’t know that I know there aren’t any.

  So, I ask, “I’m still not allowed to study the text directly. Are there any rituals tied to the equinox?”

  She shakes her head. “Not that I can remember, though it’s still a good idea… then again, we’ve long suspected that what we recovered from the cult was only an incomplete copy, and that the rebel cultist has the complete version.”

  Or maybe not. Perhaps giving out incomplete Biblios is more of a tradition than I thought. Perhaps there’s an entire line of cult leaders who decided the book had knowledge better left unshared, who then abridged a copy to give to their followers, of whom would start their own cults, which they decided were unworthy of what they thought was the full text too. What I have might just be a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the original text – and what they have a fraction of that.

  I salivate at the thought. I did always think that the Biblio was a bit pallid for a supposedly world shaking book of knowledge. The idea that there might be more profane spells out there for me to learn is very enticing… But back to the moment. I can’t let her catch on to my excitement.

  “Who knows about this?” I ask, remembering that I was sworn to secrecy.

  She shrugs. “The Empress, obviously, her advisors, high level members of the city guard, the divining teams, and myself. But it won’t be long before the rumour mills of high society start churning and we’ll have to make an official announcement. Really, I wouldn’t be surprised if the most connected nobles have already heard. Tonight or tomorrow at the latest.

  Allan! Panic seizes me again. When he hears, he’ll think I did it. I need talk to him. Sooner rather than later. I need to get back to him tonight… though it’ll be annoying. I have an irregular lecture this evening, meaning that I’ll have to go to him after dark again, cutting into my sleep. I could just send a letter with Marcus, but… Probably not the best idea. Maybe send a bird instead? I suppose I could be oblique enough to not raise suspicion in the event of interception.

  “Can you tell me who was killed?” I ask, trying not to let my worry show through.

  She raises a sceptical eyebrow. “Why? You aren’t planning on chasing after the cultist on your own, are you?”

  I give a deliberately nervous chuckle. “No, I was just curious if I knew them.”

  “Unlikely,” she scoffs, “it was just some random unfortunate in a low-sec section.”

  “… I suppose that tracks with standard Anar practices… Which low-sec?”

  She shakes her head with a grin. “I’m not telling you that. And don’t give me nonsense about needing to know so you stay away. You shouldn’t be going to either one regardless of whether there’s a lunatic killer on the loose.”

  Lunatic? I hardly think that’s called for. But I bury my retort with a smile and nod. “Of course. I suppose I was just overly curious. But do let me know if I can be of any assistance. I know I’m inexperienced, but I’m sure I can be of some auxiliary use.”

  She nods. “Of course. You’ll still be in the research group, but only pursuing theoretical matters. It’s plausible that they’d attack those hunting them to throw off the scent. It wouldn’t be the first time they reversed a divination and ambushed a group of mages on the hunt.”

  I nod, fighting back the wistful smile. I remember the time she’s talking about. It was a good day – one of the times we deployed someone bound to the god of vengeance. We killed at least three enemy mages with only one casualty on our side.

  She looks at me expectantly, so I nod and smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to steer clear of them. Well anyways. See you at the research group,” I say and politely nod before chasing after my friends.

  Obviously, I need to find the killer before they do. Not just because of how annoying it is that their getting found is making the Count search for me again. But if they get captured, they might reveal that they were never in Caethlon, which would prompt further searches. But if I can kill them first, and lead the pursuers to their body, then the Count might think that I’m dead and give up all chase of me… Unless she consults the oracles afterwards, but that’s unlikely. She likely used up some social credit gaining an appointment with one on such short notice. She’s not likely to waste more just to get a confirmation of something all evidence is pointing towards.

  …Hopefully. I must say I’m not entirely certain about how invested she is in catching me. What she’d be willing to do just to make sure I’m dead. Perhaps she wants to kill me herself, and so would be motivated to doubt such a deceit. But then again, she has seemed rather level headed so far. Not one to pursue things obsessively…hopefully.

  But of course, this still leaves me with having to find the new killer. Divination won’t work, though I will still try it. But it’s unlikely that Count Vithal would be so incompetent that I’d manage to find them that way before her and her team.

  So, what does that leave me? She refused to say which low-sec section it was. Might as well assume it’s mine. If it’s not, then I’ll have no chance of finding them anyways. If it is, then I can use the Mud Hares.

  …My chest tenses at the thought of sending them after an Anar cultist. If the killer is half as skilled as me, then they could wipe out the whole gang with ease. Of course, most cultists don’t have nearly as many sacrifices as I do. They just perform a few to start off their career as a mage, then never touch a ritual blade again. Much safer that way. The only exception being those who end up starting cults… and me, I suppose. But my circumstances are hardly common.

  So, the fact that they’re still offering suggests that they’re new or very powerful. The fact that their victim was found suggests the former. Still, no reason to risk my clients. I’ll limit them to passive information gathering.

  Sigh. It’d be rather convenient to have a flight spell so I could afford to dash to and from the low sec section and look myself. Without one, it takes multiple hours to get there, so I have to be content for my clients to do the search. Hopefully that’ll be enough. They should at least have some advantage over the Count’s team, given the empire’s strange hands-off policy for those sections.

  Thinking on this, I catch up to my friends.

  “Hey,” Ser Terry waves, “the count want something from you again?”

  I nod with a smile. “Yeah… sorry, I can’t talk about it,” I say after a few seconds of expectant expression.

  He doesn’t seem disappointed. “Aw, no worries. Come on. Let’s eat.”

  I find myself smiling, looking forward to their company. “Yeah… I’d like that,” I say, feeling tension vanishing, all thoughts of the extra counter divinations I’ll need to do slipping from my mind.