Weldon grunted. “I’m more familiar with the stronger version—decidas in astris—but I could try to find the baby one if that’s what you want. Might not be exactly the same.”

“It will not be the same,” Lim decided. He lifted the ruby and laid it across his palm. “This is no mundane gemstone. It’s a crystalized alchemic potion.”

As Ramsey let out a low whistle, I blinked. “It’s a potion?”

“Distilled into crystal form, yes. Using it as a spell receptacle would enhance or alter the spell in some way, but it’s an obscure form of artifact engineering that I know little about.”

“Where did you get it?” Ramsey asked me.

“From the Crystal Druid. You know … the Ghost.”

His eyes widened. “You bought magic from him?”

“Nah. I stole it.” Ignoring his shocked expression, I asked, “Can you put a new fall spell in it, or … not that simple?”

“Not that simple.” Weldon pushed the brim of his hat up. “Spell would need to work with the alchemic receptacle and all that, but I can make you a new one in a standard talisman.”

“Right,” I said, squashing my disappointment. “Okay.”

“I’m familiar with the amplifying spell,” Lim murmured, picking up the brass knuckles. “I could replicate it without too much trouble.”

My heart leaped. “That would be wonderful.”

Nodding, he slid the brass knuckles into his pocket. We all looked at the last artifact on the table: the former Queen of Spades, now a blank card.

Ramsey lifted the card with quiet reverence. “Reflector spells aren’t as rare as most abjuration, but this one was something else.”

Lim adjusted his thick glasses. “A recharge of five minutes, you said? Extraordinary.”

Weldon leaned closer to peer at the card. “The painting is gone. Y’all know what that means?”

The other three nodded, but I frowned blankly. “What’s it mean?”

“The painting itself was part of the spell,” Ramsey explained. “Maybe the engineer used special ink, or hid runes in the artwork. I can’t be sure, but it was masterful work.”

“So … so you’re saying …”

Lim shook his head. “Jia and I have no skill in abjuration.”

I looked pleadingly at Weldon.

“The one reflector spell I know,” he grunted, “only works on astral sorcery, and it isn’t meant for combat. Recharge is two weeks.”

Two weeks? That was all but useless. Desperate, I turned to Ramsey.

He set the blank card on the table in front of me. “I’ll ask around and see if anyone is selling something similar, but … this was an exceptional artifact, Tori. It’ll be difficult to replace.”

I nodded mutely. The four mythics pushed their chairs back from the table.

“I’ll begin preparing for the amplifying spell tomorrow,” Lim assured me. “I’ll let you know later this week when to expect it.”

“Thank you.”

Jia patted my shoulder as she passed, and the two elderly sorcerers crossed the workroom and descended the stairs. Weldon paused, grunted again, then followed them.

Ramsey leaned down and gave me a sideways, one-armed hug. “There are loads more artifacts out there, Tori. You’ll find new ones that work for you, and I’ll keep you posted on anything interesting I come across.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Thanks, Ramsey.”

He vanished down the stairs as well, leaving me alone in the huge room. Rumbling noise and bursts of laughter leaked up from the pub below, but the jubilant sounds held little appeal.

I touched a corner of the blank card, my eyes stinging. I’d suspected the Queen was irreplaceable. I’d known as soon as I saw the missing painting. Not for a minute did I think she was more valuable than Ezra, but I kept replaying her final moments in my head, wondering what I could have done differently. Had there been time to drop the card? If I’d acted sooner, could I have saved the Queen too?

Pointless questions with no answers.

Gathering my artifacts, I placed each one in its pocket or pouch in my combat belt. As I rose to my feet, I glanced at the front of the building, where afternoon sunlight shone through the windows—except for the one covered in a sheet of plywood.

I dried my cheeks before descending the steps. As I walked into the pub, warmth and light washed over me. Over half the guild was here, eating and drinking and celebrating the hard-fought victory on Sunday night.

My three favorite mages were noticeably absent from the gathering, but I tried not to think about that.

“Tori!” Cooper called desperately from behind the bar. “Take over for five minutes so I can have a break—”

“Nope.” I flashed him a sharp grin. “Elisabetta’s orders. I’m supposed to take it easy for a week.”

“But—”

Clara burst through the saloon doors, balancing plates of spicy chicken wings on her arms. “Cooper, stop pestering Tori! She’s still recovering!”

“But I need a break,” he whined.

“You’ve only been working for two hours!” she yelled. “And this bar is a mess! Did you spill every drink you poured? Where’s your towel? … What? How can you not find the bar towels?”

Chuckling, I walked by as Clara berated Cooper, the apprentice sorcerer shrinking with each angry word. In the basement, I deposited my combat belt and non-magical artifacts in my locker, then returned to the pub.

As I angled toward the stairs to the second floor, an ambush was sprung.

Sin grabbed one of my arms. Sabrina clamped down on the other. And Kaveri stepped in front of me, eyes blazing.

“Uh …” I looked between them. “Hi?”

“You,” Sin declared, “have some explaining to do.”

“I do?”

Kaveri poked me in the sternum. “The ‘combat alchemist’ who came to the guild for your phone number. The one you kept inviting back. The one who poisoned our GM!”

“Funny thing, he didn’t actually—”

“You said you dated him!” Sabrina blurted, shaking my arm as though the truth might spill out of me. “You dated the Ghost? Did you know he was the Ghost? Did he—”

“The Crystal Druid! Every witch in the province has heard of him!” Kaveri poked me again. “And his familiar is the Night Eagle! Do you even know the legends about her? She’s—”

“He kidnapped you,” Sin cut in. “Last summer, you were gone for two weeks, then you showed up again and wouldn’t talk about what happened.” She leaned closer, her stare scarily intense. “Now you have to tell us. Everything.”

My mouth opened, then closed. “Um. Well. I didn’t date him, for starters. I just made that up to explain how I knew him. And I couldn’t talk about last summer because … uh …”

“Have you been in contact with him since then?” Kaveri demanded. “How well do you know him? Everyone is saying he double-crossed us. Do you—”

I pulled my arms from Sin’s and Sabrina’s hold. “I need to go.”

“Don’t worm out of explaining—”

“I actually need to go,” I snapped. “I have an appointment.”

“What appointment?”

“With Darius.”

Surprise washed over their faces, and Kaveri and Sabrina grudgingly backed away. I marched for the stairs.

“Tori.”

I reluctantly paused.

Sin stepped onto the bottom stair with me, tucking a lock of silvery-purple hair behind her ear. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t want to talk about the Ghost,” she guessed.

“No.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell the others. We won’t bother you about it again.” When I looked up uncertainly, she smiled. “But if you need to unload, let me know.”

Eyes prickling with tears, I pulled her into a quick hug and mumbled, “Thanks.”

As she rejoined the others, I continued up the stairs. Their questions weren’t the only ones I’d be getting about the Ghost—nor would they be the only mention of his betrayal. My gut twisted. Why did I feel responsible for his actions? Why did I feel guilty, as though I’d let everyone down? Including him in our strategy had been Shane’s call, not mine.

Halfway up the steps to the third floor, I slowed. A voice, raised in anger, echoed down from the offices. Speaking of Shane …

I hurried forward and the voice grew clearer.

“… denied credit entirely.”

Darius replied, too quiet for me to make out his words. I entered the large office where Girard’s, Tabitha’s, and Felix’s desks were arranged, buried under paperwork but currently unmanned. At the far end, the door to Darius’s smaller office hung open.

“Do you have any idea how long I spent on Varvara’s case? Two years, Darius! I started two years ago!”

“I admire your dedication.”

I crept across the room. Eavesdropping was a nasty habit, but … whatever.

“Though,” Darius added, “if you hadn’t crossed paths with the Ghost and realized he had encountered Varvara, the case may never have reached a satisfying conclusion.”

“Satisfying?” Shane spat. “Am I satisfied that the MPD has denied me any credit for her bounty?”

“They are offering partial bounty payouts to you and the guilds involved,” Darius pointed out. “A rather generous one million each, which—”

“I don’t care about the money!” A loud smack, like palms striking a tabletop. “You told agents it was the Ghost who made the kill. You tipped them off, I know it.”

A long, heavy pause.

“I delivered my report, in full, as required,” Darius murmured. “How the MPD chooses to assign credit has nothing to do with me.”