What everyone had believed was a single building in the wilderness was actually a complex of several, including a mansion near the center with a bell-tower extending from the front. Smaller buildings surrounded it until reaching the twenty-foot wall that surrounded the area. That wall only contained a single gate, watched by a single guard dressed all in black and constantly holding a halberd.

  “They’re not guarded well,” Shiyo said.

  “Appearances deceive,” Kirion said, passing a spyglass to Shiyo. “Look at the bell-tower.”

  Shiyo looked where she was told and cursed under her breath before she passed the spyglass to Benedict. He did the same, including the cursing, when he saw a pair of archers watching the landscape. They seemed to pay special attention to the clump of woods the party had taken for a hiding place. Between that clump and the complex—a span of at least three hundred yards—was a field of old, rotting stumps and thaumaturgical lanterns. Benedict guessed the Choir had felled the forest specifically to keep their enemies from hiding.

  “Ideas?” Ordra asked.

  “A caster would be an incredible asset here,” Godwik said.

  “Ours is inside somewhere and going back to Rahma would take too long,” Amalyn said. “Any realistic ideas?”

  “Kill the archers?” Binner asked.

  “I can’t kill one without alerting the other,” Kirion replied.

  “Why don’t you and Benedict do it together?”

  “The rifle’s report would notify them immediately,” Benedict said.

  Shiyo held up three of her orbs. “What if they know something is there, but not what?”

  “Explain,” Ordra said.

  “I normally use these to escape unfavorable situations. Just one throws up a thick mist over a wide area. You wouldn’t be able to see more than ten paces ahead, yes, but we know where we’re going. Our enemies wouldn’t be able to see us at all unless they came that close.”

  “Can we launch one on an arrow?” Kirion asked.

  “Indeed, we can.”

  Kirion attached Shiyo’s orbs to his arrows, then drew one back. Shiyo whispered her words into it just before he let it fly. It hadn’t hit the ground before Kirion loosed the other two. One by one, they hit the ground, and a thick fog expanded to cover the entire area between them and the wall. Altogether, they launched themselves into the mist.

  Benedict was soon alone. True to Shiyo’s word, he couldn’t see anyone else around him, so thick was the fog. This also meant he couldn’t see the stumps scattered along the ground until he was right upon them. More than once, he stumbled over one; as did Kirion, if the cursing was to be believed.

  An arrow thunked into a log just within his sight. A moment later, another hit a log, then a third speared into his shoulder. He stopped, stifling a surprised, pained shout, and yanked the projectile from his shoulder. The enchantments within his tunic had once again done their job, and the projectile hadn’t reached even half an inch into his flesh. A healing potion would be a waste for such a minor injury. He kept moving ahead until he reached the wall, where everyone already was.

  “Problem, Benedict?” Ordra asked.

  “Lucky arrow, I’ll live,” Benedict replied.

  “We can’t stay here long,” Amalyn said.

  Ordra motioned along the wall. “No, we can’t. Follow me.”

  The mist covered about half the wall, thinning out to nothing as they reached, and then rounded, the corner. By then, exhaustion threatened to take over after Benedict’s constant sprinting. Given the number of stamina potions drunk when they stopped, he wasn’t the only one.

  Amalyn didn’t give herself any recovery time. She leapt and latched onto the wall’s edge with assistance from a wind that swirled in her wake, then climbed over. Benedict waited and listened. In the distance, the guards shouted directions and orders, none of which he could decipher. He held his grapple ready. If Amalyn was in trouble, he would need to move fast. Amalyn’s hand appeared over the wall with a signal that it was safe to move. Together, Benedict and Shiyo grappled over the wall, followed by Kirion and Ordra using the same tools. They all landed next to Amalyn and dashed behind cover.

  “Where do we go now?” Shiyo asked.

  “Our little informant didn’t tell us that much,” Amalyn replied.

  “I knew you had an informant,” Benedict said.

  “It’s the easiest way to get information.”

  “Someone should take care of those archers,” Ordra said. “The rest of us search for the girls. Kirion, any guesses where they are?”

  “Could be anywhere, but they’d keep records in that large building,” Kirion replied.

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  “Leave the archers to me.” Shiyo’s lips spread into an unsettling smile.

  Benedict checked around the corner. No one was within his sight line, at least. When he looked back, Shiyo had already disappeared. If Benedict’s suspicions were correct, she was using Morighana’s power. The archers should have just laid down and let it happen at that point.

  Meanwhile, they had a structure to infiltrate. Benedict checked every window on the ground floor as he passed them. Naturally, none of them were open. The front door was, however, and in the former front garden stood six wagons, all designed for use by different professions. One in particular caught Kirion’s eye.

  “That’s the one I saw in Rahma,” he growled.

  “Then I’d say we’re on the right track,” Ordra said. “Shall we meet them inside?”

  The interior was far too mansion-like for Benedict’s taste. Crimson carpets covered the floor, while matching banners draped from bannisters on the second-floor balcony above, which one could access via a genuine grand staircase. Everything else was stark white, and nothing showed a single blemish. There was no way around it: to have such an extravagant building, either the Ashen Choir made that much money from their criminal endeavors, or a noble had given them use of it.

  “Disgusting,” Benedict spat.

  “Depravity is never satisfied,” Kirion said.

  “Shall we find the girls and leave?” Amalyn asked. “I don’t want to stay here.”

  Ordra motioned everyone forward. “Benedict, Amalyn, upstairs. Kirion and I will search down here.”

  Benedict headed right when he reached the second floor. Amalyn went left. The entire way, he held his sword ahead of him and listened for any suspicious noise. Carpets muffled his footsteps as he crept along, though he could swear his breathing would give him away at a moment’s notice. Decorations on the walls were sparse, and the occasional door had no identifying marks on it.

  He began checking behind doors. Room after room was bohemian in its furnishings. Few had anything more than a chair and small table, and even those mostly just had an extra bed. What was it used for if everything inside was so lifeless, but well-maintained? Surely Ashen Choir leaders didn’t require such luxury.

  Feminine crying caught his attention as he walked past a room behind a locked door. She kept crying, and then a more masculine—and certainly demanding—voice joined hers. Benedict quelled his anger enough to knock on the door. The sounds of shuffling and muffled complaints filtered through the thick wood, then the door opened.

  A man with an angry expression stood behind it. “What do you want? I’m very busy here.?

  Benedict slammed his sword’s pommel into the man’s face. He stumbled back, holding a bloody nose. Benedict struck again, sword meeting a wooden rod. One swipe sent his blade flying, and his opponent wrestled him to the ground, ending with Benedict fighting to keep the wooden rod away from his throat.

  Fury colored the man’s eyes. “So you’re the one who infiltrated our hideout. Those idiots said you’d run off, but I guess not. I’ll have to flog them later to the man.”

  The woman sat on the bed, desperately holding a sheet over her body and a hand over her mouth.

  “Tell me where the other women are,” Benedict demanded.

  The answer came with the rod bearing down harder. Benedict’s confidence began to melt away. He twisted and writhed until his muscles ached with the effort, and he was no closer to being free. The man above him was much stronger than he, not to mention heavier. Ordra could take him on strength alone, but not Benedict.

  The Viper’s Curse moved to Benedict’s hand, and he twisted again, this time releasing one end of the rod. It slammed into the floor and a little into Benedict’s neck, but not for long as he swung at his opponent. His fist didn’t connect but did earn him some breathing room. The Ashen reared back to avoid it, releasing the pressure near Benedict’s neck, opening him to a solid punch to the stomach.

  In the moment after, as his opponent remained stunned, Benedict got behind him and wrapped his arm around a thin neck. Then he squeezed. The Viper’s Curse radiated damage deeper than he could reach. All his strength flowed into his arms. The Ashen squirmed, and Benedict held fast, refusing to yield his grip. With a final squeeze, he heard a crack, and the man went limp.

  Benedict let the body fall to the ground, then leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Pain flooded his brain from every inch of his body, unfelt until the adrenaline left him. A single healing potion took care of it in short order, then he grabbed his sword.

  “It’s okay, my name’s Benedict, and I’m here to rescue you,” he said to the woman cowering under the sheet.

  “Does this mean I get to go home?” she asked, eyes watering.

  “Soon, I promise. We’re getting you all out of here.”

  She looked down at her body and blushed. “May I get my clothes first.”

  “Take this as well.”

  Benedict tossed her a healing potion, then turned his back to her, only looking after she said she was ready. She shouldn’t have been. Her entire outfit was a canvas sack, tied at her waist with a rope.

  “Can you tell me where the others are?” Benedict asked.

  “I can’t. They always blindfold us to come here. We come up a lift, and the room we emerge into has a sickly brown and green carpet. That’s all I’m able to see.”

  “That’ll have to do. Follow me, Miss…”

  “Alena, sir. My name is Alena.”

  Alena kept close to Benedict as he led her to the lobby, where everyone else had gathered on the ground floor.

  “Where did you find her?” Amalyn asked.

  “Not with the others,” Benedict replied.

  “I hate to be so forward, but where are the other women, Miss?” Ordra asked.

  “There’s a way to get underground,” Alena replied.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Benedict explained about the blindfolding and the carpet.

  Ordra scratched his head. “Not the best to go on. Likely on the ground floor, at least. That’s where I’d put a dungeon.”

  “I think I saw that carpet,” Kirion said.

  The front door creaked and whined as it opened. Everyone turned to it, weapons drawn. As it swung fully open, Shiyo stood there, sword resting on her right shoulder.

  “Trust me, no Ashen is coming through that door now,” she said, no small hint of smugness in her voice.

  Kirion stared at her in awe. “You must tell me your secrets.”

  “Maybe when you’re older. Oh, you found them?”

  “Just one,” Benedict said. “We know where the others are; we just need to get there.”

  Kirion led everyone to a dead end room with a concave wall—Benedict assumed connected to one of the turrets. The carpet was indeed best described as “sickly”, with green and brown mixed in a random pattern that offended all manner of taste. If one lived in a swamp, maybe it would be reminiscent of home, but no one else. Alena confirmed that was the room they sought and tried measuring out her steps to find the lift. She would count from the door to various spots on the wall, walking like a bound slave. When she stopped, Kirion checked for hidden doors or latches.

  Benedict spent the time absentmindedly looking about the room until he spotted a pair of levers next to the concave portion of wall. One was on the wall itself, the other on the floor, and both were not very well hidden behind a privacy screen. In disbelief, Benedict walked to them and pulled the floor lever. A sound like ratcheting came from deep in the wall, then a bang. The other lever caused the wall itself to slide, revealing a room beyond with a solid wooden lift.