The news about a supposed long-lost relative didn’t go over well with the brothers. To be honest, they weren’t thrilled. Neither of them had ever heard of an uncle from New Freeland, and they certainly weren’t interested in falling under his guardianship. For Cap, it would mean losing a mentor he could admire and aspire to emulate. The boy had been slaying shifters and vampires by the dozen – in his dreams, of course. Meanwhile, Knuckles would’ve had to part with his beloved four-wheeled beauty, and I doubted their "uncle" would’ve let him keep the Tommy gun either. All in all, their reaction lined up perfectly with our plans. We’d been so busy crafting our strategy that we hadn’t even bothered to ask what they wanted.

  Harry and I got home well past midnight. The wizard immediately sensed turbulence in the ether. Without a word, he dragged me into the hall, where magic was gathering in a visible column, even to the untrained eye. It didn’t come close to the epic spectacle of an unstabilized flow, but the sensation was far more intense. The magic filled my body, sparking at my fingertips, as if ready to materialize any desire. It was intoxicating, almost dizzying, but Harry didn’t let me succumb to the temptation.

  The wizard pulled out a book and started tossing out spells, enhancing the symbols already carved into the walls, floor, and ceiling.

  “Stand there and don’t move,” he ordered, pointing to the center of the room, where a complex, multi-tiered circle of symbols spun slowly. Harry himself took a position opposite me inside a simple octagram, activating another circle between us that contained a triangle inscribed within it. Smaller circles filled the room, scattered across the floor.

  Harry traced a rune of materialization in the air, infused it with power, and unleashed it. A wave of magic rolled slowly and inexorably through the hall, making the glowing symbols tremble as it passed. It hit the protective wards on the walls, paused, and then began to recede just as slowly.

  Suddenly, within one of the containment fields, a mad rat appeared; in another, a rooster; and in a third, something large that broke free, shattering the containment. The wave continued toward Harry and me, and in the trap in front of me, Simon’s ghost materialized – opaque, vivid in color. If I hadn’t seen Harry through the gaping hole in his head, I might’ve thought he was alive.

  Simon narrowed his one good eye, sneered, and without any dramatic preamble, reached for my throat. His hands collided with an invisible barrier. Harry didn’t waste any time either. A blue spectral flame lit up in his hand, and he thrust it straight into the hole in Simon’s head.

  The ghost’s head flared, becoming transparent. Simon screamed – a sound filled with pain, terror, and fury. The fire spread rapidly across his body, turning it transparent as well. The ghost writhed, losing form. Like a mad rat, he slammed against one wall, flattened against it, then lunged toward another, spinning into a fiery vortex within the trap. The protective runes flared under the strain, and one finally gave out. The entire trap burst like a soap bubble.

  The ghost lunged at me but dissolved into ethereal smoke before it could touch me.

  “He’s gone,” Harry said. “At least you can sleep soundly now. Don’t move – I’m not done yet.”

  The wizard made a few more passes with his hands, setting the other ghosts in the traps alight with the same spectral fire. Then he clenched his fist. The ghosts burst one by one, leaving behind familiar smoke. Only this time, the smoke didn’t disperse. It gathered into drops of ectoplasm, which Harry carefully funneled into vials before placing them in a cabinet by the wall. That cabinet, by the way, already held a small fortune in its shelves.

  “Now you can move,” he said.

  But sleep wasn’t waiting for us. Instead, we spent hours in discussion with the Sparrow brothers and the Flowers. The latter even stayed the night. It didn’t change the morning routine much – just two extra people at The Anvil’s kitchen table. Finella volunteered to take Cap’s place at the stove.

  While they were setting the table, I made a call – not to Bryce, as I’d initially planned, but to another uncle, Gordon. The head of the family was too categorical. He’d previously suggested dealing with the Fairburn threat physically. Gordon, on the other hand, wasn’t gifted, but his voice carried weight in the council, as he managed the trade that brought the clan most of its income. That also made him an excellent schemer – far better at handling paperwork and behind-the-scenes maneuvers than most.

  And maybe, just maybe, I missed Aunt Mary and my cousin Logan a little, and I’d engineered this just to have a chance to exchange a few words with them. Family is family, after all.

  Uncle Gordon listened carefully, approved the rough plan, and asked for some time to think it over. The only piece of advice he gave was to change the boys’ last names and dates of birth, but not their first names. Even experienced schemers have been caught on that detail before. This way, we could argue that the names themselves misled the detective. He also suggested crafting a new backstory for their origins, but the boys should remain stubbornly silent about it, and we should pretend we never dug too deep.

  All of this – Logan’s teasing remarks about girls, Aunt Mary’s concern over whether I was eating well, dressing properly, and studying enough – took no more than twenty minutes. Still, by the time I returned to the kitchen, everyone was already busy with their utensils.

  On the menu: eggs with bacon, toast, roasted tomatoes, and mushrooms. I piled my plate high and started recounting Gordon’s advice.

  “Well,” Harry asked, “how do you feel about changing your last name?”

  For some, it might’ve been an unacceptable suggestion, but Squire Sparrow had left the boys little besides bitter memories. They agreed without much hesitation. Knuckles wanted to be Wheeler, while Cap couldn’t decide right away and settled on Taylor. And with that, breakfast came to an end.

  “Well, then, Wheeler,” I said, “why don’t you give Cooper a quick tune-up? Ever since the Royal showed up, you’ve been neglecting him. You’ll be driving us to the other side of Rapsy.”

  “Offend me, why don’t you?” Knuckles retorted, feigning indignation. “The car’s in perfect shape. We can leave right now.”

  “Not right now. I haven’t even packed yet.”

  “You’re leaving?” Finella asked. “At this hour?”

  “Not leaving. Moving,” I said, glancing at James. “To the Wilcox house.”

  “I see,” Lord Flower drawled in that peculiar way of his, never turning his head in my direction. How does he do that? If I shut my eyes, my third eye doesn’t see a thing either.

  “Harry!” I called out. I needed to try another anti-compulsion spell, but if James found out about that part of the problem, he’d just order me to stay away from his sister and forget the conversation entirely. “Got any ideas about my problem?”

  “Which one?” the wizard asked dryly.

  “The one unrelated to moving. And yes, Lord Flower, it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Am I just supposed to take your word for it?”

  “Trust him, James,” Harry interjected. “Duncan genuinely believes the move is necessary.”

  “And you?” James pressed, catching on to Harry’s hesitation.

  “I...” Harry hesitated. “I’m not sure what to make of it. This precaution could be equally effective or unnecessary.”

  “And it has nothing to do with the Fairburns?” James asked, skeptical.

  “Absolutely not!” I rushed to assure him. That was probably a mistake.

  “Then I’ll repeat myself: I don’t want you anywhere near my sister. And you!” This time, James even turned his head toward the person he was addressing, a rare gesture for him. “Don’t even think about visiting him!”

  Finella opened her mouth to protest, but James snapped his fingers. A tiny, almost white bead of energy hovered above his palm, radiating heat. Spark eyed it warily and swallowed her objections. Satisfied, James dispelled the bead, but his stern demeanor didn’t waver.

  “I doubt I’ll have time for guests anyway. I’ll probably just sleep there,” I said, then added, “By the way, Lord Flower, do you know a good trustee?”

  “I handle the family’s affairs myself,” James grumbled. “Thank you for your hospitality. May I call a cab?”

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  “Knuckles will take you,” Harry said. “Duncan and I still have matters to discuss.”

  Fin made a sour face at her brother’s behavior and waved goodbye as James left, proud and independent as ever.

  “Why does he hate me so much?” I asked.

  “Because, like it or not, his sister got kidnapped because of you,” Harry said bluntly. “And don’t argue. Sure, the vampires stirred the waters, but you were the cause.”

  “He’s been like this toward me since the moment we met!” I protested.

  Harry shrugged indifferently.

  “So, what’s this idea of yours?”

  I explained, and Harry stroked his beard thoughtfully before pulling out his spellbook. He flipped through a few pages, then cast a compulsion spell at me, commanding me to bark. I obeyed, as loyally as the most devoted dog.

  The result was expected, and I wasn’t too upset.

  On the second try, I closed my eyes while Harry repeated the process. My jaw ached, my lips tingled, and the cursed “Woof” teetered on the edge of my tongue. Still, I resolved to open my mouth and say something entirely different.

  “Who-ow’s that for you?” I croaked. The moment the words left my mouth, the urge to bark vanished.

  “Interesting,” Harry said, watching me with sharp focus. “I observed at the level of subtle energies. There are visible changes in your Third Eye. I think I have good news for you.”

  “You’ve figured out a solution?”

  “No. But I can see changes in your Eye. It’s starting to develop its own defenses.”

  “Well, that’s good news, but I might have to talk to vampires again soon.”

  “Give me half an hour.”

  In those thirty minutes, Knuckles returned, I packed my things, and Harry created a new amulet. This time, he mounted a large shard of stone into a copper medallion so that it wouldn’t dig into my skin with sharp edges.

  I didn’t pack much: a couple of boxes of ammunition, my satchel with potions, and a suitcase with clothes. Knuckles packed similarly, though he had more ammunition and fewer potions. Harry had decided that I needed a driver more than anything else – and someone who could spot compulsion magic would also come in handy. The wizard, meanwhile, was planning to dive headfirst into solving the “Archmaster” problem. That was a task I clearly wasn’t equipped to handle.

  At the Wilcox house, I didn’t plan to linger. I wanted to take a quick look around, dump my things in the closet, and be on my way. But as soon as I finished those tasks, I heard the doorbell ring.

  The precaution of answering with one hand extended, gun in hand, proved unnecessary. On the other side of the door stood Ellie, holding a pie. She was dressed in a light yellow sundress and sandals. I gave her outfit a surprised once-over.

  “What?” Ellie blushed slightly.

  “I thought you preferred more practical clothing. You can’t exactly kick someone in that.”

  Her blush deepened, spreading all the way to the tip of her freckled nose. Her brows furrowed, and her eyes flashed orange.

  “Care to test that theory?”

  “No, of course not!” I stammered. “I just meant…”

  “You just meant you’ve been thinking about my legs?”

  “No, I – what?!” What did she even want from me? What had I said wrong? How did my cousin Evan handle his temperamental wife? Ah, yes. “She finds it hard to stay mad when I give her compliments, and once she calms down, we can fight all we like.”

  “They’re nice. Your legs, I mean. And the dress – It suits you perfect.”

  “Uh… oh,” Ellie said, momentarily thrown off balance. I hurried to drive the final nail into the coffin of this argument.

  “Just remembered the first time we met. How you shoved me, remember?”

  “Oh, that... Sorry,” she said, stepping back. She held out the pie. “Here. Housewarming gift.”

  “Thanks.”

  With her hands free, Ellie began fidgeting with her braid. Now what? Pie usually means tea. We needed to talk about the Sparrows, but I was starting to feel nervous about inviting her in.

  “Knuckles,” I called over my shoulder, “put the kettle on.”

  “What about the police station?” he asked.

  “Oh, if you’re busy, I can just…”

  “There’s always time for a cup of tea,” I assured her.

  The pie was a masterpiece, worthy of every possible compliment, but the tea felt awkward and uncomfortable. Ellie kept fidgeting with her braid and adjusting her dress, as if she felt out of place in it. Still, we managed to discuss the situation. I made it clear that under no circumstances should she or her family recognize Knuckles and Cap as Sparrows. The conversation didn’t take long, and afterward, I called the station, confirmed that Sunset was in, and asked for someone to let him know I’d be dropping by.

  Detective Inspector Sunset was waiting for me at his desk, clearly not in the best mood.

  “What trouble have you brought me this time?” he asked instead of greeting me.

  “Why do you assume it’s trouble, my good man? Maybe I’ve come to help.”

  Sunset narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  “Word is, Harry got into it with Fairburn’s new hired muscle when the latter was introducing some medal-wearing big shot to the Chief Justice.”

  “Where did you hear that?” I asked indignantly, pointing at the chair across from him.

  “Take a seat. The world is full of rumors, and in my line of work, it’s crucial to keep an ear to the ground. Which means,” the detective said, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction, “this time, it’s not me asking you for help, but you coming to me. Go on,” he allowed with a gesture.

  I opened my mouth, ready to cut him down a notch. Lately, I’d been getting better at it. But he wasn’t wrong. I really hadn’t come here to help but to ask for help. And why ruin his mood? Let him enjoy it – maybe it’d make him more agreeable.

  “Interested in the details?” I asked.

  “You’re kidding, right? Of course I am. But let’s move this to Mo’s – haven’t had a single bite all day.”

  I’d had a decent breakfast, not to mention the pie I’d just eaten, but I could always manage a cup of tea.

  “We’ll bring Knuckles. This concerns him, too.”

  Sunset grimaced.

  “Sit at the same table with yesterday’s hooligan? I do have a reputation to uphold…”

  “He’s turned over a new leaf.”

  “Lad, you… Oh, fine. Lunch is on you.”

  Mo’s was crowded, but Sunset still managed to secure a table. Two constables quickly vacated it – for reasons entirely their own, without any prompting. As for Knuckles, I thought Sunset was worrying over nothing. In his neatly pressed clothes, it was hard to recognize yesterday’s scrappy delinquent – at least as long as he kept his mouth shut.

  Sunset ordered like he hadn’t eaten in a week: fish and chips, a rare steak, pickled zucchini, and strawberry blancmange for dessert. Realizing tea alone wouldn’t cut it, I ordered some blood sausages – they were excellent here – and Knuckles settled for a chicken and celery salad.

  While the detective devoured his food with wild enthusiasm, I quietly recounted the story of our latest encounter with the Fairburns. The café was full of prying ears, but Sunset had a simple anti-eavesdropping amulet on hand.

  “So, you want me to run this medal-wearing gentleman through the registries?” Sunset asked, starting on his dessert.

  “At the very least. Ideally, I’d like you to get in touch with your colleagues in New Freeland. That’s where I’d start. The response will take time, anyway.”

  “First, I need to know where to send the inquiry. If I send a telegram to the Dominion’s main office, it’ll just get lost in the shuffle. And let’s not forget the occasional cable breaks. Those happen a lot in Oceania. I can’t make an official inquiry – don’t have the clout for that – so we’d need to find someone with connections over there or just hope for the best.”

  “I understand it’s not a simple matter. But the Archmaker isn’t exactly a simple problem, either.”

  “True, but we agreed I’d settle the Valentine and Lindemann issues in exchange for your help with the Archmaker.”

  “Fine. What do you want?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” Sunset said, catching me off guard. “How could I not help a friend? We’re still friends, aren’t we?” he added, repeating the words Harry had used to shut down any further questions about the conflict between us and the vampires.

  “Of course, John,” I replied with a strained smile. Oh, this wouldn’t come cheap.

  “Good. Finish your tea, and we’ll head out.”

  “Where to?”

  “To the Lindemann estate.”

  I should’ve expected that.

  “By the way, do you know a good lawyer who could act as a trustee?”

  “I know too many, and… I know too much about them. A good lawyer is easy to find, but a decent human being in that profession…” Sunset shook his head. “There are only a couple, and they’re out of your reach. Their client lists haven’t changed in years – decades, even. Some go back centuries. The Mining family has handled the affairs of the Dukes for generations, and the Counts of Sidney only take trustees from the Coak family. But I’ll think about your request.”

  “Shame,” I sighed. I’d thought this task would be quicker to resolve.

  About forty minutes later, we turned onto a gravel driveway leading to the Lindemann mansion. I insisted Knuckles come with us. Sunset asked directly why I needed him there, but I couldn’t give a proper answer. The detective muttered something about the secrecy questions but held back on harsher comments.

  A human butler led us into the garden, where, under the canopy of an ancient oak and surrounded by roses, Kate Lindemann was sipping blood from a porcelain cup. Thanks to the dense shade, she’d been able to forgo her wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses.

  “Detective,” she greeted, her voice sultry as she turned her gaze to me. “Duncan. Now, here’s someone I wasn’t expecting to see.”

  Her lips darkened, and the amulet on my chest grew warm. I closed my eyes and pretended to rub my eyelids in irritation.

  “I didn’t sleep well,” I lied. “And I’m not in the mood for games.”

  “Hmm.” Kate studied me intently, her gaze sharp and probing, before shifting her attention to Knuckles.

  “And what is he doing here?” she asked, her lips darkening again.