A Summer's Scheming

It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes

But it might just save your life

~ Huey Lewis

Chapter 2

Revenge could steal a man's life until there was nothing left but emptiness. ~ Louis L'Amour

The evening streets of Holfort's capital - which shared a name with both the continent and the kingdom - were relatively secure, but they were quieter than they were during the day. Markets were closed, store fronts locked up as those doing business there reached whatever point they used to judge that there was no longer commercial value in keeping their doors open. Apprentices downed their tools and were put to work cleaning and tidying, sorting out what had been made and what they would need to meet their master's needs the next day.

Out on the streets, crowds were replaced by trickles - young men and women out to enjoy the relative freedoms of the evening. Many of them dressed as if they were adventurers, lying to themselves that one day they would walk away from boredom and drudgery to win wealth and titles through their daring. It got them through the day.

The nameless man looked like one of the latter. He moved confidently and might have easily enough found companionship, had he looked for it. He was handsome, with long blue hair and a beauty mark beneath one eye. But he did not, and few remembered him once he left their view.

Crossing a city block by one alleyway, he paused to re-lace his boot against a bricked in doorway that had once been a tradesman door but had no longer been needed. No one saw the brick facade swing inwards, and the nameless man stepped inside with no one the wiser save himself and the one who had opened the door.

Those two exchanged no words, and the new arrival followed a short passageway to a door, locked from the inside. When he knocked, this too swung open, admitting him to a storeroom whose shelves were anonymous boxes containing nothing of value (or had not when he was last bored enough to check them). There was a table there, a chair behind it, and in that chair was a man far too well dressed to be in this shabby back corner of the capital.

"Master." The man placed one hand over his heart and bowed submissively.

"I understand that the Ministry of Magic suffered a minor break in." From behind the table, his employer continued to read one of the capital's newspapers. "Also that a certain baron of my acquaintance had his mansion ransacked and certain liberties taken with the staff who were present. Would you like to explain the connection? And don't pretend that there isn't one."

"If it's the baron I believe, then his house has a facade from the same architect who designed the Ministry's building. If certain memories are only blurred and not entirely erased, then visiting both might be confused with visiting just one." The man smiled engagingly. "And it would be a very bold elf who confessed to despoiling a nobleman's mansion, had he any choice."

His master nodded thoughtfully. "And you have reason to expect that your abilities may fail you?"

"Elves," he replied with a shrug. "Who knows?"

"I do hope you will know better in the future." The newspaper was folded and dropped onto the table. "If it seems that they have failed in this regard, find out and clean up. You are correct to avoid bodies where possible, but the attention is better than anything traced back to us."

"I live to serve."

"You serve in order to live." The man steepled his fingers in front of him. "His valuables?"

"Those readily traced can be found in the usual place if the Baron contacts the right thief-taker. If he doesn't…" Less traceable items had paid the elves enough they'd likely talk to him again - with the fall off in demand for elves as contract servants, there were quite a few elves who'd turn to any option they had to make the money they needed to get back to their home island. And a little coin had ended up in one more hidden cache that he could dig up if the chance to run presented itself. Assuming there was ever anywhere to run to.

The eyes that skewered him strongly suggested that his master had a very good idea what had happened to the coin and other items hard to specifically pin down as stolen. "And finally, my valuables?"

Opening his satchel, the man handed over a small jewelry case and a book. "The detector, verified on my accomplices, and instructions on how to make more of them. That's what it's marked as, anyway. I didn't test that."

"I'll have someone with an actual education look at that," the older man told him, flipping through the book quickly before setting it aside with more care than he had the newspaper. Opening the jewelry case, he removed the pocket watch and activated the device, examining the results. "I see you have no elf in you. I'm surprised."

"Not many elves in Alzer."

"True." The detector was put away again. "You've done well."

A compliment? The man with no name knew what that meant: another mission. "Thank you." It would not do for him to seem like an ungrateful dog that didn't appreciate being patted on the head.

"The Berg mansion is replacing much of their staff." His master was matter of fact. "A few thefts, some distasteful arrogance on the part of some individuals towards their mistress."

"The duchess?"

A shake of the head. "Lady Berg is residing in the capital in preparation for her marriage. It appears that her management has been too soft, and replacing the transgressors is her chance to prove that she has learned."

A small packet of papers was tossed onto the floor and the man with no name knelt to pick it up. The contents were a letter of reference for… "Rufus Brode?"

"Your new identity." His master looked at him coldly. "Ensure that you are appointed to the house staff in a suitable position to administer the household for Lady Berg. Become her support and ensure that the Duke is satisfied with her. It will be necessary that none of her new household servants can be traced back to any of your previous work, but also that they will not question your instructions." He paused. "Or that Lady Berg questions you."

"I understand. My goal?"

"I will send word once you are in place."

Rufus considered. "What time frame am I working under, master?"

"The other half of my plan is in place, but we cannot act until after the summer." Marquis David Fou Mason smiled thinly. "This is an important task. The stakes are high, the rewards are higher. I will not lack generosity towards those who carry this out."

And if they failed, Rufus Brode would be a corpse that could tell no tales, the young man thought. Well, it wasn't as if he had a choice.

Angelica hadn't previously had a great deal of experience with the hurricane of energy that was Katarina Claes.

Being a guest of the family had involved being dragged around almost every corner of the duke's estate - their personal estate, as opposed to the fiefs of their vassals and properties of their tenants - and introduced to everyone they met. While Angelica was quite sure that no one on the Redgrave estates would have had a harsh word to say about her, she didn't recall any of the staff there treating her with the same mix of resigned fondness. The old gardener seemed quite unaware of any difference in status between himself and Katarina, treating the girl as if she was his own granddaughter.

Still, she thought she'd adjusted and after the first few days Katarina seemed to have settled down.

Thought. Seemed.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked as the skyship Katarina had dragged her onto made its way through the sky towards an island that was in view of the Claes' island on a good day. It was a lovely day, if a little windy - Angelica had to clutch at the broad brimmed hat she'd been given, occasionally.

"It's my fault?" Keith confessed - he, like the two girls, was dressed down in simple but well-made clothes, the sort of things Angelica saw successful merchants dress their families in. "I told Katarina that Olivia lives near us."

"Oh Keith…"

"I know," the boy looked woebegone. "It was a moment of weakness!"

"Does your mother know about this?" Angelica knew that Keith was technically adopted, in the absence of a male heir, but none of the Claes household had mentioned that so she refrained from bringing it up. Honestly, given how openly Duke Luigi adored his wife and vice versa, it was amazing that Katarina didn't have a dozen trueborn siblings, but that was another point Angelica would not enquire upon.

It was obviously possible for nobles to marry for love, which rubbed her raw in some uncomfortable places.

Keith rubbed his face. "She does, but…"

"But…?"

Katarina caught hold of their hands. "Remember, we're not nobles, we're just merchants," she informed them both. "We don't want to make any fuss." Then she looked at them and blushed. "Sorry, sorry." She waved her hands frantically. "I'll leave you together!"

Angelica stared at the retreating girl. "What does she think…"

Keith coughed. "Do not explore that too deeply."

"Probably for the best," she agreed after a moment's thought. "So, the part your mother doesn't know… that we're going to be pretending not to be nobles."

Keith nodded sadly.

"We won't get away with this, will we?"

"...maybe. It depends if we can sneak back into the mansion and get changed before mother sees us wearing this."

"It's not so bad." Angelica was wearing a skirt, a blouse and a simple corset. It was really quite simple and practical. No one here would see her and imagine she was from a ducal family. For a moment, she imagined herself walking through a town, walking on Julius' arm - the prince dressed much as Keith was now.

It was a bittersweet fantasy that would never happen. She leant on the railing, rested her chin on her hands and sighed deeply, looking at the blue sky - seemingly endless.

Keith had done his research and was able to guide them from the island's port up a road that led away from the castle of the local lord up into the hills. Their hired horses weren't the thoroughbreds that Angelica had ridden before, a steadier breed that seemed content to eat up the distance in a staid fashion and were not startled much by Katarina's occasional exclamations and waving arms.

Before very long, they saw a village in the distance but Keith led them off the road a short distance outside, indicating a farmhouse that stood amid its own gardens and fields. "I think this is the place," he explained. "Or they should be able to give me directions."

Angelica dismounted, with a little discomfort - she'd not ridden in a while - and straightened her clothes. Katarina, wide-eyed in delight, half-danced up the path to the front door, looking at the rather dilapidated gardens with great interest. She grabbed hold of the door knocker and let it fall with a loud thunk.

A moment or two later, just as Katarina was reaching towards the knocker for a second time, the latch quivered and the door swung upon to reveal a blonde woman perhaps the same age as Duchess Claes. She moved somewhat languidly, her eyes seeming to rove the distance before finally settling on the three youngsters in front of her. "Yes?" she asked in a baffled tone.

"Oh, are you Olivia's mother?" Katarina entreated, reaching out and grabbing hold of the woman's hands.

"Ah… yes?" The woman - Mrs Campbell, presumably - blinked several times. "Can I help you?"

"We're her friends from the academy," the enthusiastic brunette explained. "We were just passing so we thought we'd say hello!"

"Olivia's… friends…? Ah, Olivia is in the village at the moment. She should be back before long…"

"Thank you, Mrs Campbell." Keith seemed to take pity on the poor woman. "I hope it isn't an imposition for us to visit without warning."

"Oh… no, it's fine." Their host seemed to rally her faculties. "Please make yourselves at home."

"Thank you… Katarina, no!"

Angelica turned and saw that the other girl had suddenly stepped out into what seemed to be a vegetable garden, pulling what seemed to be a hoe from between a row of… well, Angelica wasn't entirely sure.

"Oh, how did that get there?" Mrs Campbell mused. "Did I just forget it there?"

"It looks like it's been here a little while," Katarina assessed, pulling the hoe away from her brother's attempts to take it off her.

"Katarina!"

"It'll be fine with a little care," the girl continued merrily. "Do you want me to clear this up for you while we wait? Stop that, Keith. She said to make ourselves at home!"

"I'm pretty sure she didn't mean this!"

"I… I couldn't ask a guest to do that," the older woman murmured, her voice taking a tone that Angelica was growing used to in those exposed to Katarina for the first time. It would have taken a sterner woman than Mrs Campbell - Duchess Claes came to mind - to turn the enthusiastic young woman aside. Angelica was unsurprised, a few moments later, to be accompanying Mrs Campbell back inside the farmhouse while Katarina led Keith in not only cleaning the lost hoe up, but apparently in setting the entire garden to rights. Hopefully she had remembered that they had a skyship to catch back to Claes before the end of the day.

"Is Miss… I'm sorry, I didn't catch her name…"

"Katarina has a very forceful personality, a kind heart… and the soul of a farmer," Angelica admitted ruefully. "I only met her at the academy but I gather she's always like that."

Their hostess smiled a little wanly. "I'm pleased to hear that Olivia has made friends. It was… I know very little of the academy. I thought that being surrounded by nobles and gentry might be difficult for her. The members of our lord's family that I've met are very different from the people she grew up among."

Angelica considered lying, but that would probably be a disservice to the worried mother. She reached over and took Mrs Campbell's hands. They were larger than hers, callused but not as much as she had feared. "It was difficult at first for her. Meeting Katarina helped a great deal. And I like to think I smoothed her way a little once we became acquainted."

"Ah. That is better than I had thought. There are stories… particularly that young men may…"

"I won't say that there's no young man at the academy who might be so lacking in decency," Angelica told her quickly, "But anyone behaving like that would be ruined. I can't think that even my worst enemy there would tolerate that. Most of the students at the academy are looking to marry when we graduate and a man with that sort of reputation would find it very difficult."

Mrs Campbell squeezed Angelica's hands a little "Even for a commoner?" There was considerable weight to those words.

Angelica began to speak, considered what she was about to say, rethought it. The mother holding her hands let her think. "It's possible that some might behave differently in their home domains than at the academy, but would any man behave so foolishly in front of the women they are trying to find a wife among?"

"You might be surprised how foolish young men can be, and what they think will impress a woman." The corner of Mrs Campbell's lips curled up in what might have been called a smile.

"My fiance - former fiance - decided to court another young woman," Angelica forced out.

Blue eyes very like Olivia's widened. "That…"

She forced the words out. "His family have all but disowned him. I am aware that men can be fools." Her vision blurred with brimming tears. "But in society there are consequences."

Olivia's mother let go of Angelica's hands, but only to pull her into an embrace, rocking Angelica back and forth until the tears stopped coming.

Wordlessly they continued into the kitchen and Mrs Campbell dug out a kettle, filling it and setting it upon the stove. While the water boiled, she pulled back a chair for Angelica to sit and then took her own place facing her. "My… Olivia's father has not been here in several years."

"I'm… sorry."

The woman looked down at her hands on the table between them. "He is not dead, as far as I am aware. But… magical talent such as Olivia's is very rare outside of the gentry and the nobility."

Angelica nodded in agreement. Katarina's weak magic was more that which might be found among commoners, as she understood it.

"After it was determined that she had such a strong gift, and in a rare aptitude like light magic." Mrs Campbell shook her head. "Her father's identity was… questioned. It was suggested that someone of… your class might have had their pleasures with me. And from there, the whispers asked if I had been forced or if…"

The girl swallowed. She could not imagine any of the boys she knew doing that… not among the academy at least. But here, where word would probably never reach the capital? And truthfully, she thought that if one of the girls who had bullied Marie or Olivia had set a servant to such a task.

"It was untrue, of course." Mrs Campbell smiled sadly. "But when it comes to gossip, what does that matter?"

Angelica thought of how her so-called friends had turned upon her after the party. How some of them had been acting behind her back even before that. "Not very much." Then she reached forwards to take Mrs Campbell's hands again - only for the shrill whistle of the kettle to interrupt her.

Both of them started. Looked at each other. Chuckled a little guiltily.

Olivia's mother poured tea for both of them and then into two more cups. "Let's take some tea to our enthusiastic gardener and her brother," she said quietly. "And then, if you would tell me of the man that left you, I will tell you of the man who left me."

It was months since Leon had worn the mask and cloak that had disguised him during his visit to the elves. Had they always been this heavy and constraining?

Perhaps it was just that the weather was warmer now, even the nights rarely becoming as cool as they had back then. Or possibly he'd just grown slightly. He was at that sort of age, after all.

Tonight he was intruding somewhere just a little more dangerous than a mostly abandoned underground complex. Without Luxion's drone scouting ahead of him, he'd probably have been caught and killed by now. Or if he was really unlucky, caught and captured. The elves had relied on secrecy and a few monsters that hadn't even come across him, but this target had real security.

On the other hand, at least the carpets here made it easier to hide his footsteps.

Leon eased up to another corner and waited until Luxion confirmed: "The guards are looking away, master."

Jumping forwards, Leon raised the dart gun he was holding. First one and then the second man securing the entrance to the chamber he was looking for turned, slapping at the skin where the tranquilizer darts had struck them. Then their knees failed them at about the same time that their consciousness faded.

"It is only half an hour until the next patrol arrives," warned Luxion. "Unless you intercept them as well, a stealthy departure will be very difficult."

Leon disarmed the guards, propping their weapons in a discreet corner, then pushed lightly on the door that they'd been flanking. It didn't move. The boy ducked to deal with his latest victims. "I'm guessing that this will be harder to pick than the entrance to a dorm attic," he observed, using zip-tie restraints Luxion had made for him to secure the men.

"That is a very low bar to overcome," the drone declared. It moved up, hovering in front of the keyhole and extended a probe. Seconds later there was the click of the lock's bolt moving. "Pathetic, as expected."

This time the door swung easily under Leon's hand and he walked inside. The room inside was a treasure house - literally. The Fanoss household had used it both to store and to display their most prized possessions since they were merely dukes of the kingdom. The quality and quantity of the contents might have changed since they founded their principality but the purpose of this room hadn't changed.

In the pride of place, an ornate flute sat on a crimson cushion, the plinth supporting it surrounded by a glass box.

"Fake?" asked Leon, indicating it.

"Correct." Luxion's drone scanned the room, barely pausing as its sensor assessed the supposed lost item. "The materials used and the workmanship are of distinctly modern quality. The true flute is most probably within the safe."

"Don't tell me they hid it behind a portrait?" Leon pleaded with a groan. "Could they be any more cliche?"

"Unfortunately, master, it is actually behind the bookcase." Luxion highlighted a small wooden bookcase that supported less than a dozen volumes - each cushioned from the next by silk wrapped padding.

The boy took a deep breath. "So cliched. Did they at least trap it?"

"Indeed. Multiple triggers, both mundane and magical. Any error would certainly kill you."

"I'd better not make any mistakes then," Leon decided. "Walk me through it."

For several minutes they painstakingly disarmed the traps. Someone who knew what they were doing would have been faster, but with the threat of death hanging over him, Leon was painstaking about making only the precise moves that Luxion instructed him in. At last, the bookcase was moved aside and the hatch behind it lay open. A second cushion, this time black, held a flute identical to all visible appearances to that on the plinth.

"Luxion?"

"I cannot confirm, without attempting its use, if this is one of the items you have told me of," the AI reported pedantically. "However it is, without doubt, an artifact of the war between the new humans and my creators."

"Close enough then. Am I clear to take it?"

"There is no further danger."

Leon reached in and recovered the artifact, dropping it neatly into a pocket sewn into his cloak and buttoning a flap over it. "One down, one to go."

"Our time is limited, Master," Luxion warned.

He nodded. "Scout me."

The drone hovered out of the room and Leon followed, stepping over the still sleeping guards.

His next destination was inconveniently further away, but there was no help for it - the sentries were checked far more often in the tower he sought than down here in the notionally more secure vaults of Castle Fanoss. If they'd taken those guards out first then chances are that someone would have noticed before he even got down here.

And taking only one of the prizes would render taking the other completely meaningless.

So up he went, avoiding the outside door to the tower - the guards there would be too visible if they were fallen or absent. No, he had to navigate a winding servant's corridor and catch far more attentive and wary sentries if he was going to make it.

There was a carpet here, though it was a shoddy and well-worn one that had been stained many times. Barely daring to breathe, Leon eased up to the doorway. Could he get past… no those inside would be ready for that. If one of them came out, he'd have only to deal with two… but was he that lucky?

After a minute of waiting there, fearing that some chance bit of light would cast his shadow, Leon decided he would not be lucky. Or at least not in time… the thirty minutes from earlier were more than half gone. With a deep breath, he steadied himself and then kicked the door open just enough to stick his head and arm through it.

Once, twice, three times he fired the dart-gun. Then a fourth time after one dart hit an upraised tray. This shot sank into his target's calf and she fell with an offended look on her face, as if that was cheating.

"It is ironic that you find these maids more of a threat than the armed guards," Luxion observed as Leon entered the room and secured the trio of maids, ignoring the cards on the table and the bottle of wine. He did one of them the favour of removing the two playing cards up her sleeve and slipping them back into the deck.

"The female of the species is more deadly than the male," the boy replied. "And they'd remember that all they have to do is scream - someone who's armed would more likely want the glory of capturing me."

"A sad reflection of new humanity's inferior mental condition."

"No… I'm afraid I'm basing that on my past life as well."

"..." The AI sank into an offended silence.

Leon gave the drone an apologetic look, then remembered that even Luxion couldn't see through the mask. Exiting the room, he took the stair that led up to a well concealed door right outside the room that he wanted. The tower had two staircases, a much wider one for the ostensible residents and this one for the people who did the actual work.

"One guard," Luxion warned grudgingly. "Watch out, master. She's a woman."

Leon extracted the magazine from his dart gun and replaced it with a full one. "I have the strength of ten, because my heart is pure."

Luxion waited until Leon had opened the door and shot the guard twice, leaving the woman sprawled on the floor despite her decorative armour. Not covering the sides or back of her knees had been a critical error, no matter how much it simplified the construction of that part of the woman's protective gear. Pretty knees though. "Of ten things that aren't very strong, admittedly. A gnat, maybe. This stuff is ridiculously strong though, now that I think about it. Knocking someone out immediately with hits to the leg?"

"Unless you have several years for a proper education in biochemistry, I cannot usefully explain this to you."

"It'll keep then." Leon moved up to the door and found that this one was also locked. Luxion moved in but Leon waved it back, pulling a key from where it hung on the guard's belt.

"What," Luxion asked, "Is the point of the guard having a key to the door she protects unless she is keeping the occupant from leaving?"

The boy nodded. "I wonder if the occupant has thought of that?" He unlocked the door, let it swing open and then entered on silent feet. Closing the door with just the slightest click, Leon let his eyes adjust. There were no candles lit in here, but moonlight streamed through one window - bright enough to leave the room in shadow.

An adjustment of his mask activated night vision goggles he'd not needed until now and the young man scanned the room. The four-poster bed was occupied, and without hesitation he fired the dart gun at the sleeping girl under the sheets. She barely stirred, continuing to sleep the sleep of the just.

Lips curling up in anticipation, Leon looked over at Luxion.

"Another safe," the AI reported. "I'm very sorry, master. It's behind that portrait." A ultraviolet light illuminated the one in question briefly.

"At least the current owners inherited the place, it may not be them at fault for the lamentable lack of imagination." Leon moved up to the portrait. "What security are we looking at?"

Luxion scanned it. "No traps on the frame, but there is a gas trap behind it, and an alarm."

"I suppose she has to live here." The masked boy nodded towards the bed. "What triggers them?"

"Any movement of the dial," the AI reported. "The front of the safe is a fake."

"Now that's more like it." Leon lifted the portrait down and propped it against one of the bedposts, then looked at the rather convincing looking safe door that had been hidden behind it. "What's the trick?"

Luxion explained and Leon opened the safe, finding yet another flute inside. "Is this one real?"

"Confirmed as identical to the last one."

"I should have brought the fake," Leon muttered as he retrieved the flute from it's black cushion. "I could have left it here and closed it up - they might have thought they still had one…"

"The entire plinth was trapped, master. Moving it at all would have set off multiple alarms."

"I suppose there's such a thing as being too clever." He put the flute into a second pocket within his cloak. Everything had gone more or less to plan…

A door opened on the far side of the room, admitting a girl around Leon's own age. She wore a white night dress, long black hair cascading down behind her. "Hertrauda, stop pretending to sleep. I heard -"

It was fairly obvious when she saw Leon in the shadows. She froze up for a moment and then her lips parted.

Leon felt like a cur but he pointed the dart gun at the younger girl still asleep on the room's large bed, then raised one finger to the lower part of his mask. "Shhhh."

The young woman gulped and then closed her lips. She glared at him with venom evident even in this poor light. "Who are you?" she hissed. "What do you want with my sister?"

"My dear princess." He bowed slightly. "If I wanted to be recognised, why would I be wearing this mask?"

"I suppose," she forced the words out, "That you have me at a disadvantage."

Leon circled, careful not to let the sleeping princess out of his sights, and lifted a robe from where it hung over a chair. With a snap of his wrist he threw it across the room to the livid girl. "Perhaps this will make you feel less uncomfortable."

She caught it, bit back something that would no doubt be savage and then shrugged it on, belting it on with short, angry movements. "And what do you want here?"

"A certain musical instrument."

Her gaze snapped to the wall. "Very well. Leave my sister alone and I'll tell you where it's hidden."

Leon managed to avoid laughing, but couldn't avoid the amusement leaking into his voice. "Was hidden. I would apologise, but that would hardly be sincere."

The girl stepped up to the bed, resting her hand on one of the posts. "I won't let you harm Hertrauda."

Leon nodded. "Indeed. Thus I have aimed my weapon at her and not at you."

"You're disgusting."

"It's as if she's met you, master," Luxion muttered through the ear bud.

"I snuck into a girl's room wearing a disguise and now I'm pointing a weapon at her. I must reluctantly concede your point, Princess Hertrude. Fortunately for you, my aim here is not to hurt either one of you. Not that I wouldn't, but it isn't a requirement."

She scowled. "I won't let you take her as a hostage either."

"My dear princess, you're already a hostage." He bowed his head again. "Or pawn, puppet… pick your word. What else can I call someone who serves the interests of those who murdered her parents? Your most trusted knight stood by and allowed it to take place. I can only assume that the only reason you've not avenged them is that any move you make will be paid for by Hertrauda, and vice versa. Unless you are truly ignorant."

Hertrude's head snapped up. "That's not true, that's impossible."

"Is it?"

"Vandel Him Zenden is the greatest knight in all of Fanoss. He failed my parents, but he would never have betrayed them."

Leon chuckled. "Good little puppet. Would you like a prize for parroting what you've been taught. Sir Vandel is indeed a very great knight, but there is one cause that he will cleave to even above your family, one sin he would condemn even you for. There is nothing whatsoever that he would not stoop to for the chance to wage war on Holfort… and your father made peace with them."

"You're lying!" the girl shouted. "You're lying!"

"Master, the guards heard that!" Luxion warned sharply.

Leon whirled, running for the window. "Remember this day, your highness." He kicked it open, glass breaking under his boot and the frame falling free a moment later. Hopping up onto the sill, he glanced outside and then turned back to face Hertrude Sera Fanoss, ruler in name of the Principality of Fanoss, his shadow stretching out towards her across the room. "Remember the day you almost caught Carmine Sandiego!"

And then he leapt backwards out of the window.

Air streamed past him. Leon tucked and rolled, stretched out one hand and just barely caught what he was aiming for.

For a moment the boy saw a pale face at the window he'd sprung from, then he felt as if his arm was almost torn off by the yank as he was dragged away by the airbike that had been waiting for him outside under Luxion's control.

A moment's flailing got him properly astride and then Luxion really opened up the throttle. With a roar that probably woke the entire castle, they hurtled away from the livid princess of Fanoss - Luxion's drone gripping the airbike's pillion as the speed rapidly exceeded its own performance.

"You should have just shot her, master."

"Eh, we didn't get Vandel's sword. Hitting her with a clue-by-four is the consolation prize," Leon claimed. "Is anyone chasing us?"

"Not yet," the AI told him, "But give them time."