Under the silvery shimmer of the Chameleon Cloth, three hearts hammered against their ribs like trapped birds. Lil Sinbad, Kenta, and Kelise peered over the balcony railing. Their eyes were wide saucers that reflected the chandelier light.

  "So those are Priests?" Kenta whispered.

  Even from this height, they felt it. The air in the banquet hall felt heavy and dense. It wasn't the humidity of the island; it was a spiritual pressure. The Grace in the room seemed to bow and swirl around the silver-haired young man and his entourage. It was a sensation of raw, leashed power that made the hair on Sinbad’s tail stand straight up.

  Kelise murmured, "They look… dangerous. Especially that big woman. She could snap a mast in half."

  "Shh!" Kenta hissed.

  Squeak. Squeak.

  The sound of a rusted wheel cut through their tension. A server pushed a heavy trolley filled with dirty dishes along the upper walkway. She walked with her head down, but as she passed the section of the wall where the children huddled, she stopped.

  She frowned and squinted at the empty space. The Chameleon Cloth bent the light perfectly, but it could not mask the displacement of air or the faint heat of three bodies.

  The server reached out a hand. Her fingers drifted closer to Kenta’s nose.

  The three spies held their breath and remained frozen. If she touched them, the gig was up.

  Ding!

  The elevator doors at the end of the hall slid open with a cheerful chime. The server jumped, startled by the noise. She shook her head, dismissed her hunch as fatigue, and pushed the cart into the elevator.

  Whoosh. Clank.

  The doors closed.

  Lil Sinbad exhaled a sigh of relief that nearly fogged up their camouflage. "That was close. Too close."

  "Focus," Kenta commanded. "The Governor is speaking."

  Below, Barov Earl Karsteen cleared his throat. He stood at the head of the table and adjusted the lapels of his green-striped suit.

  "I must apologize. Elder Mako was supposed to join us, but he seems to be running late. The Council of Elders moves at its own pace, I’m afraid. We shall begin without further delays."

  Lillian Liemmech nodded. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "Time is a resource we cannot afford to squander, Governor. The Convent expects results."

  "Indeed," Barov agreed. "Let us discuss the terms. The construction of the teleportation array is a monumental task. It represents a bridge between Aquaunia and the rest of Sidonia Kemis. For centuries, my people have lived in isolation, surrounded by the deadly Meikai Sea. We call it safety, but in truth, it is a slow strangulation."

  He walked to the window and looked out at the dark ocean.

  "Our population grows, but our resources do not. The fish stocks dwindle, and the beasts grow bolder. If we do not open a door to the world, Aquaunia will become a graveyard within two generations. That is why I sought this partnership."

  "A noble sentiment." Provost Yohan Creed spoke up. "The Convent teaches that faith requires connection. To leave a flock isolated in the dark is a sin of omission. I support your desire to integrate your people with the mainland. We will protect this bridge."

  "Sentiment is fine," Lillian interrupted. She tapped a finger on the table. "But I deal in mechanics and exchange. The Gospel Tech Division will build your portal. In return, you will provide the Ancestral Imprints. That was the deal."

  "And I honor my deals," Barov replied. He turned back to the table. "However, I must manage the internal politics of the island. The Elders are traditionalists. They fear the outside world. I am certain I can secure the majority approval from the Council, but it must be done carefully. Once the portal is operational, the people will see its value, and the Elders’ arguments will crumble."

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  Lillian narrowed her eyes. "See that they do. I have no patience for local superstitions interfering with my engineering. If anyone gets in the way of my construction team, they will be removed."

  Barov’s expression hardened slightly. "This is my island, Ms. Liemmech. I will handle the discipline of my people."

  He gestured to the servants. They rushed forward and cleared the dinner plates from the center of the table. Barov produced a large, rolled map and unfurled it across the mahogany surface.

  "Now, regarding the location. I have highlighted three potential sites for the array."

  Lillian stood and leaned over the map. She pulled a monocle from her pocket.

  "The location is not a matter of convenience, Governor. It is a matter of astral physics. The portal requires a specific star alignment to stabilize the spatial tear. If the ley lines are weak, the portal could collapse and suck half your island into the void."

  The children on the balcony exchanged terrified glances.

  Lillian declared. "I need to visit each of these sites in person. My team will verify the resonance."

  "We will escort you," Provost Creed added.

  "There is another issue," Lillian continued. She looked at Barov with a critical eye. "The materials. The shipment we brought was incomplete. Half of the resonant crystals and the stabilization core sunk when the Historian Kraken attacked our convoy."

  "A tragedy," Barov nodded solemnly.

  "A logistical nightmare," Lillian corrected him. "Without those crystals, we can only build the foundation. Should I request another shipment from the Convent? It will take months to arrive."

  "That will not be necessary," Barov said. "I have already arranged for a retrieval mission. Captain Victor Quark is our finest sailor. He knows the waters better than any man alive. He will lead a fleet to the coordinates and recover the cargo."

  Lillian looked skeptical. "The Kraken is a creature of significant power, no less than a Beast Tumor. Can your fishermen handle such a threat? I have a tracker on the cargo crate, so locating it is simple. But retrieving it? Perhaps I should assign a Priest to accompany them."

  She glanced at Provost Creed. "Provost, could you spare an Apostle?"

  "I would be willing to go," Runiar offered from the side. "My Follicle Bastion works well underwater."

  "No," Barov said sharply.

  The room fell silent. Barov straightened his posture.

  "I appreciate the offer, but I must refuse. We are partnering with the Convent, not submitting to it. My men are capable. I do not wish to endanger your Priests, nor do I wish to be further indebted to your organization. Victor Quark has my trust. He will retrieve the cargo."

  Lillian shrugged. "It’s your risk. Just get me my crystals."

  She stood straight and smoothed her coat. "Now, onto the payment. Before we break ground, I require proof. I need to see the Ancestral Imprint. I need to know that this trip wasn't a waste of time."

  Barov smiled. "I wouldn't dream of conning the Convent. The risk would be... catastrophic."

  He waved his hand. "Leave us."

  The servers and guards bowed and exited the room. The heavy doors clicked shut.

  Up on the balcony, Sinbad whispered, "This is it. The secret treasure."

  Below, Barov unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his right sleeve. Strange, intricate markings tattooed in bioluminescent ink covered his forearm.

  "The Summoning Imprint," Barov announced.

  He bit his thumb and smeared a drop of blood across the tattoo.

  HUMMMMMM.

  A deep vibration shook the room. The air above the table distorted. Space twisted and folded until a large, ancient scroll materialized from thin air. It hovered inches above the table and radiated an immense, ancient energy.

  The Priests gasped. They felt the raw power emanating from the object. It felt ancient, heavy with history and Grace.

  "Incredible," Lillian breathed. She reached out a hand, but Barov snapped his fingers.

  Pop.

  The scroll vanished back into the void.

  "Does that satisfy you?" Barov asked.

  Lillian nodded slowly, her eyes hungry. "It does. That energy signature... it could revolutionize our Gospel technology."

  The tension in the room dissipated. The deal was solid.

  Suddenly, Runiar’s ear twitched.

  The Apostle with the steel hair frowned. He didn't look at the map or the Governor. He looked up.

  Twitch.

  "We have rats," Runiar stated.

  Before anyone could react, Runiar’s black hair exploded from his scalp.

  Zzzzip!

  It shot upward like a nest of striking cobras. The hair extended twenty feet in a heartbeat and lashed out at the empty space on the balcony.

  "Wha—!"

  "Run!"

  The children screamed, but they were too slow. The steel-hard strands wrapped around invisible ankles and waists.

  YANK!

  Runiar retracted his hair with violent force.

  CRASH!

  Three small bodies slammed onto the ground near the banquet table. The Chameleon Cloth fluttered away and revealed the intruders.

  "Ow..."

  "My back..."

  Kenta and Kelise groaned. Lil Sinbad rubbed his head and blinked his red eyes at the stunned assembly. Even a few guards burst back into the room with spears raised.

  Governor Barov stared at the trio. His stern face turned red.

  "Kenta? Kelise?"

  He looked at the boy with the tail.

  "And Lil Sinbad?"

  Barov sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should have known. Who else but the island’s most notorious troublemakers?"

  Provost Creed stepped forward; his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "Spies, Governor? Or assassins?"

  "Worse," Barov grumbled. "Brats."