The Rowdy Raven was mercifully quiet. Only a few patrons were milling about this early in the morning, talking in low murmurs. The burly bartender behind the counter was busy cleaning glasses.

In the far corner of the tavern, Julian lay slumped over his table, face obscured by mussed hair. A stein was clutched in his hand, while dozens of empty glasses littered the table around him. It had been three days since he left Marena with Asra in the magic shop. As far as he knew, the two of them had skipped town, bringing Julian's search for answers to a grinding halt once more. Not that he could really blame them…

"Ilya! What do you think you're doing?!" a familiar voice exclaimed.

Julian jumped a little, nearly dropping his stein. He lifted his head slowly, blinking blearily up at Portia. "Pa… Pasha?"

His petite little sister stood over him, hands on her hips. The expression on her face was one of pinched annoyance, but he saw the worry in her eyes.

"How did you… where did you come from? How'd you find me?"

"It was easy. I just followed the sounds of self-loathing and day drinking," she grumbled. "What are you doing here?! Do you want to be caught?"

"Caught?" Julian echoed with a smirk. "Here? Pfft. Nonsense. The bird would fly in and cause a racket." And if I did get caught, I'd deserve it. "But it's not safe for you to be near me. You… you'd better go, before you get tangled in my mess."

"I'm not going anywhere without you! You're my brother, I'm already tangled in your mess!" Her voice had risen to a reedy shriek, and her lower lip began to quiver, tears gathering in her eyes. "Do you have some kind of death wish, Ilya?!"

"Pasha—" He groaned. This was the second time in mere days he had made a woman cry. "Ohhh, oh no, don't cry, don't—"

"I-I'll cry if I want to!" Portia snapped. "This is your fault, you know!" She wiped angrily at her cheeks and turned away with a sniff, lower lip trembling.

"Pasha—" He stood up, maneuvering around the table piled high with glasses, and made his way toward her. "Ohhh, Pasha. I'm sorry, I'm—" Before he could reach out to lay a hand on her shoulder, he stopped himself, standing up straighter. "I've done nothing but cause you trouble! This is what happens… Where I go, misery follows."

"That doesn't mean you can just give up! You'll die, Ilya!"

"Maybe I deserve to," he muttered. Dropping back into his seat, he swallowed hard. "Barth! Baaarth!" he shouted the bartender's name. "I need another stein over here, please. Make it another Salty Bitters."

Portia suddenly launched herself at him, knocking over the piles of empty glasses in the process. Grabbing him by the shirt, she dragged him out of the booth and started hitting him. Her small, pudgy fists didn't do much damage (and it was clear she didn't really want to hurt him) but her relentless assault certainly roused him from his drunken stupor.

"Hey! Stop it!" He raised his arms to block her blows. "You're going to get us kicked out!"

By then they were beginning to draw the attention of the barkeep and other patrons. Poor old Barth ran over to try and break things up. "No fighting in here! Not this early!" he pleaded.

Portia wouldn't stop, however—not until Julian yielded to her demands. More embarrassed than actually hurt, he began to back away toward the door, which Barth graciously held open for them as the siblings stumbled out onto the street.

"All right! Fine!" Julian cried, grabbing hold of her arms to pin them down. "I'll go and—"

He was interrupted by a bundle of cloth hitting his back. Glancing down, he saw that it was his coat and cape, which Barth had tossed at him. "Thanks," he said, bending down to pick them up off the ground. "Now, where was I?..."

"You need to get out of the city!" Portia hissed, looking around for any sign of guards. "You can't stay here, it's not safe!"

"Where else would I go?" he retorted, pulling on his coat and fastening the buttons. "Besides, I came here to get answers, and I'm not leaving until I get them! But…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I won't get anywhere as long as that witch Asra is gone, and Marena with him…"

"What are you talking about? They were at the palace just this morning, both of them!"

Julian jolted, staring at his sister in shock. "They're back?"

"I certainly hope so, considering Nadia had me prepare their rooms, draw their baths, and fetch them freshly tailored clothes. I'd hate for all that hard work to go to waste…"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Julian cried.

"You never asked!"

In shock, Julian just stood there blinking for several seconds, sobering up completely. The wheels of his mind began to turn. He did need to talk to Asra, but the magician felt more distant than ever. And Marena… well, he had hurt her. She probably wouldn't want to see him.

No. No, damn it, he was not going to hinge everything on the two of them. He would get his answers, one way or another. But how?...

"I, well… Never mind. I don't need to see them after all," Julian said. Portia stared at him with a raised eyebrow as he laid his gloved hands on her shoulders. "Do you think you can get me into the palace?"

"Are you insane? All it would take is for one guard to recognize you—"

"I know. But if I'm going to find out the truth, I need to investigate." He stooped down to her level, looking her in the eye. "Think about it. You're the head of Nadia's household. Is there a way to smuggle me past the guards?"

Portia pursed her lips, her eyes searching his, before she finally nodded. "I could… put you in a servant's uniform and a wig, say you're a new member of the staff…"

Throwing his arms around her, he squeezed her tight. "Oh, my darling Pasha, you're the best sister anyone could have."

She stiffened at first, then returned his embrace. "I care about you, you know. You're not all alone in this. I wish you had stayed away from Vesuvia, but…"

"But you understand my need to figure out the truth, yes?"

"I understand that being self-destructive is in your nature," she muttered. "And I can't be the one to change that. But as long as I'm around to stop you from going over the edge, I will." Pulling away from him, she sniffed and waved her hand dismissively. "Now, let's get you someplace safe for now. I'll bring you the stuff you'll need..."

Julian was pleased to find that the borrowed white and gold servant's uniform fit him properly, but the wig was another story. The curly blond hair was long enough to cover his right eye, allowing him to remove his trademark eye patch, but the color didn't suit his complexion, making him look washed-out. Oh well—he wasn't exactly trying to look good, only unrecognizable.

Once he was ready, Portia looked him over and, with a nod of her head, pronounced the disguise passable. "Ian, you're hired!"

"Er, come again?" Julian asked.

"I told everyone I brought in a temp to train for the day. So, for today, you're Ian!"

Julian frowned. "Ian? That's almost as bad as Jules, Pasha."

"Everyone's a critic," she grumbled. But he could see the slight curve of her lips, as though she were struggling not to laugh.

"Alright! Today, some of milady's sisters are arriving for the Masquerade, so she should be distracted." Portia rubbed her hands together. "What part of the palace do you plan on searching?"

"The library," Julian replied. He had a hunch that there was something there he needed.

"I'll take the shortest route there, then. Oh, and I need to return this later, so make sure you get it back to me undamaged and clean, okay?" She gestured to the uniform.

"But of course. Shall we?"

Portia led him through the palace entrance. While she fiddled with her ring of keys, Julian's disguise was held up to the scrutiny of the guards. The servant's uniform worked like a charm, and they were allowed inside without incident.

That didn't stop him from worrying every time they passed a guard, but none of them seemed to pay him much mind. Portia claimed she was taking the shortest route, but they passed at least a dozen guest rooms, art galleries, storerooms, and more on their way to the library. Then it turned out that the library door had a complex lock system, and it seemed to take Portia forever to find the right keys…

But eventually the door opened. "You go inside, I'll stand watch out here," Portia said. Julian obeyed, listening to the locks sliding back into place behind him. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been hoping, then looked around.

The palace library was certainly well-stocked. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled to the brim with books. In an age where literacy wasn't the norm, it was an impressive store of knowledge, rivaled only by the great archives of Prakra, Nadia's homeland.

Julian wandered the stacks, scanning over the titles quickly as his fingers fluttered over the spines. Plucking a few books from the shelves, he jumped when he heard a rustling noise nearby.

Marena sat at a desk covered in books and papers. Well, to be more specific, it was his desk she was sitting at. The very same desk he had been hoping to find and search.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I thought I was alone in here."

Panic churned in Julian's gut. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again. She'd likely recognize his voice. But he needed to reach that desk…

So what's stopping you? he thought to himself. You don't think she would turn you in, do you? No, you're afraid to face her after what you did…

He swallowed and turned away, pretending he was just another servant rearranging the shelves. But he could still feel Marena's gaze upon him.

"Julian?" she whispered.

Freezing up, he closed his eyes. "You're mistaken. I'm Ian, the newly hired palace servant," he said, despite knowing his cover had been blown.

Marena walked around the desk and approached him. She wore a simple light blue dress, probably something she owned. He felt it suited her much better than the Countess' finery. She was also wearing gold hoop earrings similar to the ones that had been hidden away in that box under her bedroom floorboards. They glinted amid her dark curls, glittering in the light streaming from the stained glass window to her right.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, worry straining her voice.

"I'm here to find some answers. I believe they can be found somewhere in there." He pointed to the desk where she had been sitting, his eye scanning briefly over the clutter littering its surface. It appeared to have been left untouched since the last time he was here, three years ago.

"Oh," she said. "Well, be my guest."

He needed no further prompting before he rushed over and began tearing through the desk in pursuit of… something. "All these books, and I kept returning to the same one. But why?" he muttered to himself. "It's starting to come back to me… it's close, at the back of my mind. I can just taste it…"

Papers fell upon the ground, thrown haphazardly about, until Julian found what he was looking for. A tremble ran through his arm as he held up an oily metal key with a red stone in the eye. It had been hidden away in one of the drawers.

"Don't ask me how I know, but I know," he breathed. "It's not any of these old scrawlings. It's this!"

He tossed the key in the air and snatched it on the way down, pocketing it with a scheming gleam in his eye. Then he turned to Marena, who seemed bewildered by his change in mood. Part of him longed to grasp her by the shoulders and kiss her triumphantly. But he remained where he was, the key heavy in his pocket.

"Thank you, my dear," he said. "Now, to figure out what this key unlocks…"

Just then, there was a noise on the other side of the door.

"Ah! Milady! Finished up so soon?! That's a surprise!"

It was Portia. Nadia's low, dulcet tone replied, her words too muffled to be understood, but her voice was enough to snap Julian to attention. Yet it was Marena who grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the shadows of a tall shelf just as one of the many locks in the door slid into place.

"Oops, dropped the key ring again!" Portia's voice wobbled with fear, though it could pass for embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, milady, my fingers are so slippery today!"

"It's quite alright, Portia. Perhaps I should try, on account of your slippery fingers."

"What? Milady, I can't have you opening doors for me! I promise it'll only be a moment!"

Another lock in the door clicked open, echoing in the quiet library. Ten remained.

While Julian's disguise was enough to fool the average servant, the Countess herself would likely recognize him on sight. He turned to Marena, face pale, and spoke in a hushed tone. "I won't have you caught in my mess. When that door opens—"

She shook her head. "I'm coming with you."

"Marena—" The third lock clicked. Julian grit his teeth. "She'll be too busy arresting me to notice you, if you run, hide, get out of here."

"Where will I go? There's no place to hide or run in here," she pointed out.

"Use some hocus pocus, make a hasty getaway, something!" The fourth lock. Or was it the fifth? "Whatever you have to do. You have to stay safe."

"But what about you?" she asked. Then, as the locks continued to slide, she seemed to realize the full gravity of the situation. Julian was about to be caught. They were trapped. There was no getting him out of this. "I'll come rescue you," she said.

"You'll come… what?" Julian blinked. She spoke with such vehemence in her voice, such determination. Despite the danger, he felt a pleasant warmth spreading through his chest. He was touched. "I, uh—That's… That's not going to happen, Marena." He tried for a sneering grin. "It'll just put you in more danger."

"You escaped from death once before, didn't you?" she asked. "How?"

He had. He knew he had. But how did she know that? "I don't remember. I—Someone… someone opened a door for me."

"Then I'll come, and open another." She took his hand. "From now on, we work together. No matter what."

Another lock, another click. Time was running thin. Yet Julian stood perfectly still, staring at his hand in hers. "You're really not going to leave me," he murmured, staring at her. She was so strange. Like some alien thing, a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. Certainly she was unlike anyone he had ever met.

And she knew exactly how to make him do what she wanted. He couldn't face impending doom so casually, knowing that she intended to stay by his side through it all.

"Fine," he said. "Then let's get the hell out of here." His gaze shot to the window, and the trees far down below. "I don't suppose you can fly? Or turn into a giant bird?"

"No," she replied, tugging him over behind another shelf where two marble pillars framed a wall covered in ivy. Behind it, after she brushed the plants aside, was a small carving. A symbol which felt familiar to Julian, though as with so many important things, he couldn't remember what it meant.

The final lock clicked, and the door swung slowly open. They were out of time.

Julian stiffened, preparing himself to surrender. They were hidden behind the bookshelf for now, but that meager protection wouldn't last long. He took a deep breath, about to make a move, and—

"Countess." Asra's voice came from the hallway. "Were you looking for me?"

Marena's eyes widened as she spied her master through the gaps in the books. She squeezed Julian's hand.

"Ah, Asra," Nadia greeted. "Not in the library after all? Where's Marena?"

"I sent her off to pick up an ingredient from the shop," Asra replied.

"What a pity. She could have joined us for dinner." Nadia's tone brightened. "You will join me, will you not?"

"I'd be delighted, Countess."

Nadia turned to leave, Portia at her heels. But Asra paused, head tilted just slightly toward where Julian and Marena were standing. Marena's hand squeezed even tighter as her eyes met his. Julian tensed up as well. He had half a mind to run out and confront the slippery little magician…

Asra turned abruptly and followed Nadia down the hall, things unspoken still hanging heavy in the air. Behind Julian, the stone wall suddenly rippled like water in a pond. Asra must have activated some sort of portal.

Wordlessly, Marena pulled Julian through it and out into freedom.