"STOP!" screamed Vyxara in her head. "The corrupt Essence – it's leaking through!"

  Valentina saw it too. Fine black veins began to run through the ambient Essence of the room, like ink in clear water. The sweet, foul smell grew stronger.

  "What should I do?" she whispered in a panic.

  "Don't stop!" ordered Vyxara. "You have to control both processes at the same time. Keep manipulating the Eye with your right hand and contain the spread with your left."

  Valentina's injured arm protested as she tried to weave the complex patterns. Fresh blood seeped through the torn sleeve.

  The corrupted Essence continued to spread, eating through the natural Essence currents of the room. Valentina could feel reality itself beginning to writhe beneath this pollution.

  "The instruments!" Vyxara shouted. "Look for Essence-absorbing artifacts. He must have some, with the amount of junk he's hoarding."

  Valentina let her gaze wander frantically around the room as she tried to keep her Weaving going. There – on a shelf lay a row of crystals that displayed the characteristic shimmer of Ambient Essence absorbers.

  With trembling fingers, she directed the spreading corruption towards the crystals. The first two greedily absorbed the corrupted Essence until they became discolored and useless.

  Meanwhile, she had to maintain her concentration on the Eye of Deceit. The engraved eyes seemed to stare at her mockingly, as if they knew of her despair.

  A sudden noise in the corridor made her flinch. Her alarm pattern showed no danger – not yet. But for how much longer?

  "I can't do this," she gasped. Sweat was pouring into her eyes and her injured arm was shaking uncontrollably.

  "You can do it," hissed Vyxara. "You're stronger than you think. Concentrate!"

  Valentina gritted her teeth. With her right hand, she continued to weave the manipulation of the Eye, while her left guided the spreading corruption to the remaining absorbers.

  The minutes stretched like syrup. Her arm felt like it was on fire. The corrupt Essence polluted the air with its disgusting stench.

  Then, finally, she felt the Eye give way. The engraved eyes froze, became dull like blind bronze and then lit up again in a new configuration.

  "Done!" cheered Vyxara. "The manipulation is complete. Now take care of the spreading!"

  Valentina could now concentrate fully on containing the corrupted Essence. The last remaining crystals absorbed most of the pollution, but not all of it.

  Fine black veins were still running barely perceptible through the Essence currents in the room, spreading slowly but steadily.

  "It's not enough," Valentina gasped. "The corruption is still spreading."

  "But slowly enough," Vyxara replied. "It will be months before it becomes really dangerous. And then it's Faustus' problem."

  Valentina knew it was wrong to leave the corruption behind. It could spread further, possibly poisoning the Essence streams of the entire floor.

  With trembling hands, she placed the manipulated Eye of Deceit back on its pedestal. Faustus would be in for a nasty surprise if he tried to use it against her. She hid the blind absorber crystals under Faustus' dirty laundry.

  "Hurry up," urged Vyxara. "We have to get out of here."

  Valentina nodded, exhausted. She had done all she could. The Eye was rigged, would do Faustus no good now. And the spreading corruption... well, that was Faustus' problem now.

  As she closed the cupboard, black dots danced before her eyes. She had used up too much strength, lost a lot of blood.

  Her alarm pattern suddenly vibrated like a taut string. Footsteps approached – many footsteps.

  "He's not alone," Vyxara hissed. "Quick!"

  Valentina began to renew the protective patterns around the wardrobe with frenzied movements. Her exhausted fingers trembled, her injured arm cramped as she wove.

  "I swear I saw light under my door!" That was Faustus' voice, still distant, but too close. Far too close.

  "Stay calm," warned Vyxara. "Concentrate on the patterns."

  The corrupt Essence made it more difficult – it disturbed the natural flows, confused the structures. But Valentina forced herself to calm down, her hands to move more precisely.

  "See for yourself!" Faustus sounded furious. "That damned messenger has made a fool of me!"

  The last protective patterns closed. Valentina staggered back exhausted, her injured arm throbbing to the rhythm of her racing heart.

  The footsteps came closer. Voices in the corridor, one of them definitely Faustus.

  "The window!" urged Vyxara. "NOW!"

  Valentina rushed to the window. Her trembling fingers struggled with the latch. The rain lashed against her face as she pushed it open.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A key scratched in the lock.

  With a desperate leap, she swung herself onto the windowsill. There was a flowerbed beneath her.

  The door opened.

  Valentina let herself fall, rolling off as she had learned to do as a child when they had secretly climbed through the barns. The soft, soaked ground cushioned her fall.

  "There's no one here," she heard a male voice say. "Are you sure, Master Boarfend?"

  "I swear I have..." Faustus' voice was carried away by the wind.

  Valentina picked herself up and ran off. Through the pouring rain, across the sodden grass, away from Faustus' window. Her dress was soaked and mud-smeared, her arm burned like fire.

  Only when she was sure that no one was following her did she slow down, trying to appear normal, to attract no attention.

  "That was close," muttered Vyxara in her mind.

  Valentina nodded silently. Too close. But she had done it. The Eye of Deceit was rigged, and the spreading corruption would cause Faustus a few more sleepless nights in a few months' time.

  When she was finally back in her small attic room after all the excitement, Valentina took off the soaked dress. The torn sleeve was stiff with dried blood, and mud encrusted the hem.

  "Crap," she muttered, "there goes a dress."

  She took her wash bowl with the cold water and sprinkled a handful of salt into it – an old trick her mother used to use against blood stains. The dress splashed in and immediately reddish streaks began to form in the water.

  "Forget the dress," said Vyxara. "Your arm is more important."

  The cut had stopped bleeding, but it looked bad. The edges of the wound were swollen and discolored – probably from the corrupt Essence.

  "Sit down," Vyxara instructed her. "I'll show you how to speed up the healing process."

  Valentina sank exhausted onto her narrow bed. Her hands were still shaking from the evening's exertion.

  "Concentrate on the Leb-Essence," Vyxara continued. "Let it flow through the wound, but carefully. Too much at once could form scar tissue."

  With tired fingers, Valentina began to weave. The familiar, warm currents of the Leb-Essence were a pleasant contrast to the corrupt Essence she had been struggling with all evening.

  A slight tingling sensation spread up her arm. She could feel the tissue under her skin beginning to regenerate.

  "Well done," praised Vyxara. "You really are quite remarkable, little Weaver. Not many people could have achieved what you did tonight. I'm lucky that a Weaver with such an iron will summoned me. Otherwise it would have been a real bore."

  Valentina smiled tiredly. The pain in her arm subsided and became a dull throbbing.

  "We really did it, didn't we?" she whispered. "The Eye of Deceit won't do him any good now."

  "No, it won't," Vyxara confirmed with satisfaction. "And the corrupt Essence in his room will also give him some... interesting days. Eventually."

  Valentina stood up unsteadily and took her sewing utensils from a drawer. The tear in her sleeve could be mended – she had enough practice repairing damaged clothing.

  While she selected the needle and thread that best suited the fabric, she reviewed the events of the evening. She had broken in somewhere, worked with dangerous Essence patterns and left a completely invisible trail of devastation in Faustus' room.

  And she didn't regret any of it.

  "What are you thinking about?" Vyxara asked curiously.

  "You know what I think about. About how much I've changed," Valentina replied quietly. "The innocent girl from Palewood would never have dared to do any of this."

  "And is that bad?"

  Valentina looked at her almost healed arm, the fine red lines left behind by the wound. "No," she said firmly. "It’s not. They would have eaten the innocent girl from Palewood alive and spat her out afterward. But not me."

  She felt Vyxara's approval like a warm wave in her consciousness.

  "Get some rest, little Weaver," the demon purred contentedly. "You can still take care of your dress tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe tomorrow we'll hear the first interesting rumors about strange happenings in Faustus' room."

  Valentina smiled grimly, put her sewing kit next to the wash bowl and began to get ready for bed. She had a feeling that she would sleep very well.

  ~

  The next morning, her arm was only slightly reddened and the mended dress was hanging freshly washed by the window to dry.

  When she entered the dining room, she immediately sensed that something was different. There was an excited buzz in the air, students were putting their heads together and giggling.

  "Val! Val, over here!" Innogen beckoned her wildly to their table. Crispin was already sitting with her, his face red with laughter.

  "What's wrong?" Valentina asked innocently as she sat down.

  "Oh Martyr, you won't believe it!" Innogen blurted out. "It's about Faustus!"

  "This is going to be good," Vyxara giggled in her head.

  "Last night he went to the 'Red Swan', a... um... a brothel in the city where he's banned," Crispin began, his voice trembling with amusement. "Apparently he thought the madam there wanted to apologize to him for banning him."

  "But that's not what she wanted?" Valentina asked with wide eyes.

  "Of course not!" Innogen snorted. "She had no idea what he was talking about. And when she told him, he completely lost it!"

  "Ignacio was there," Crispin interjected. "He saw everything. Faustus started shouting that they couldn't treat a Boarfend like that and knocked over two tables."

  "Whereupon the bouncers... well, kicked him out," Innogen chuckled. "Rather roughly, by all accounts. Made him bounce on the cobblestone, those bouncers."

  A few tables away, Ignacio Flintside told the story to an enthusiastic audience: "...and then the one bouncer – a guy as big as a troll – just picked Faustus up and..."

  "But that's not all!" Crispin interrupted excitedly. "He ran straight to the Decan Valemont with a bleeding face. In the middle of the night! Claimed that someone was breaking into his room."

  Valentina forced herself to look surprised. "Really? Was anything stolen?"

  "That's the best!" Innogen leaned forward conspiratorially. "When they inspected his room – Valemont, two guards and a few of Faustus' friends – it looked like a horde of goblins had gone on a rampage. Valemont was already about to launch an investigation..."

  "...until one of Faustus' friends blabbed," Crispin finished the sentence. "'But Your Magnificence,' he said, 'that's how it always looks here!"

  Half the table burst out laughing. Even Valentina couldn't help but grin.

  "Valemont was furious," Innogen continued after she had caught her breath. "Yelled at Faustus for waking him up in the middle of the night for such nonsense. And this morning..."

  She paused dramatically.

  "This morning?" Valentina asked.

  "A letter arrived this morning from Madame Rosalie, from the 'Red Swan'," Crispin announced triumphantly. "Elara's cousin works as a clerk in the Decanate. She says it was the angriest letter she's ever seen. Four pages! Detailed description of Faustus' behavior, a list of damages, and a formal complaint to the university."

  "Isolda from the kitchen says she heard Valemont chewing Faustus out," interjected a student from the next table. "Threatened to throw him out of the university if anything like that happened again."

  "And now he's writing a letter to Faustus' father," Innogen added. "Oh, what I wouldn't give to read it!"

  The whole dining hall was buzzing with rumors and laughter. Students went from table to table, each with a new version of the story to tell, each more elaborate than the last.

  "I heard he tried to bribe one of the bouncers!" "No, he threatened to send his father!" "They say he cried when they threw him out!"

  Valentina watched the spectacle with quiet satisfaction. There was no sign of Faustus himself – he was probably licking his wounds in his room.

  "A successful night, I'd say," Vyxara purred contentedly.

  "You can say that again," Valentina thought back and took a hearty bite of her breakfast bread.