Twenty-three

Carastes, 9:33 Dragon

The elf looked like he was starving, his bones pressed up against sunken flesh.

His hair was filthy and ragged, his eyelids looked heavy and his eyes were ringed by dark circles showing fatigue. But below that, his mouth was half open, lips drawn back, teeth visible as he snarled like some kind of animal.

The enchanters had given the prisoners some kind of poison that dulled the mind but flared their aggression, to ensure that they would make dim but fierce enemies for their mage opponents. The sandy, circular arena was already littered with four corpses from the duels that had already completed. Now, Cassius stood across the stadium from his opponent to be as the elf paced back and forth like a hunting cat, the poor-quality shortsword in his hand brushing against the bars of the gate as he waited for his chance to kill.

The curriculum for apprentices in their second-to-last year in the Circle was heavily focused on combat, putting the previous decade of study and theory to practical use. Before Tevinter graduated its mages from their prestigious academies, they needed to be sure that they were capable of defending themselves. Therefore the fall term was heavily laden with offensive and defensive magic, as well as strategy and tactics both for individuals and group deployments. While Soporati lives were replaceable, their teachers preferred and attempt to teach them not to incinerate, electrocute, freeze, explode or otherwise injure, maim or kill their own troops in battle.

The final test of their abilities took place today, at the end of the fall semester, in the arena. And while they had trained with targets and constructs, wild beasts, carefully summoned spirits and demons and each other, today they stood across from actual, living, breathing people. In order to fulfill their curriculum, each mage had to stand by themselves against an armed foe, to the death.

To kill a wolf or darkspawn or a demon was one thing. But to look another human, elf, dwarf or a Qunari in the face and end their life, that was a lesson that the Circle had to teach its mages.

And Cassius, much like his high-born classmates and peers, had never killed another person before.

He studied his opponent carefully as he waited for the bout to begin. His foe was a Qunari prisoner, judging by the red brands he wore across his flesh in the geometric patterns favored by the Qun. Cassius guessed he must have been captured in battle somewhere on Seheron and shipped back to the mainland in chains specifically to be used as mortal fodder for the education of the mages. All of their opponents appeared to be captured Qunari, judging by the three other dead elves lying in the dirt and the giant, hulking, gray-skinned kossith that had been provided as a special request for Alexei Andante, a powerful Altus mages and inarguably the strongest among his class.

The horned enemy had charged him furiously, spinning twin axes in a whirlwind of death. Even though the gigantic kossith had proved to be much more alive and furious than the drugged elves, Alexei had more or less embarrassed it.

He had effortlessly deflected his opponent's strikes with well timed and placed barriers before buying purchase with a mind blast that had tossed the slathering warrior back several feet. By then, Alexei was only toying with it, snapping off a dozen bolts of spirit energy that peppered it like archers. When the Qunari had recovered and charged again, Alexei planted an explosive rune under his feet and when it detonated, it tossed it high into the air as if the massive fighter weighed nothing. As it hurtled through the sky, Alexei hit him with a fireball that separated him into multiple pieces, raining flaming and burnt limbs and chunks of meat into the sand. The young Altus mage had turned on his heel, smirked, and left the arena without a word as his classmates cheered the gruesome display of power.

Cassius' starving elf didn't look half as challenging, but his racing heart in his chest and the prickle along his spine that sensed danger appeared to disagree. He reset his hands on his staff again, moving along the wrapped grip to wipe the sweat off his palms.

He reviewed his plan of attack in his head again. The enchanters required that their mages first display defensive techniques against an incoming attack. Once turned away, they could then shift to their offensive spells and neutralize the threat. Cassius resolved that he would use his winter spells, where he was most comfortable and which provided greater defensive utility by chilling the opponent. That would provide him some leeway in the event he made a mistake and give him a better opportunity to recover than a more aggressive style.

"Apprentice Cassius Terro," the enchanter announced from the stadium seats. "Your trial begins… now!"

The gate on the opposite side of the arena lifted quickly and the rabid elf behind it spared no time seeking his prey. He lowered his body toward the ground, turning the shortsword over in his hand as he ran so that the blade pointed down and trailed back behind him. It was a rogueish approach, meant for quick, unorthodox slashing.

Cassius opened himself to the Fade as his opponent approached, letting the mana flow across the Veil and fill him as he prepared to defend himself. As he could feel himself filling with arcane energy, he focused his mind, drew his staff across his body and drew frost around him, the tendrils of ice creeping in a ring around him and up his body, providing a thin layer of armor over his flesh, just in case.

As the elf closed, his feet hit the dirt hard and he quickly changed direction, cutting across Cassius' body as he brought the blade around in a swift arc. Cassius turned his body, pulling up a barrier that turned the cut aside. As the elf's shortsword bounced back off the magical shield, his hand turned, whipping the blade back and forth to perforate the shield.

The elf obviously wasn't familiar with frost magic, as Cassius continued to surge manage into his barrier, imbuing it with his ice. When the blade finally punctured the shield, it ruptured into a burst of cold, freezing him in place temporarily. Cassius could see his feral eyes twitching as his body struggled against the incapacitating spell, cracking against the magical ice that held him still.

Cassius took the opportunity to evacuate the area, using his magic to dematerialize his body and push it through the Fade, darting through his attacker's corporeal form and creating some distance again. His body trailed cold as he zipped across the arena, leaving a trail of frost behind him as he reentered the physical world several yards away from his foe, who was shaking free of the ice.

He turned, facing the elf once more and pulled his magic to the head of his staff, thrusting it upward as the plume of frost burst upward from the ground, gripping the elf in its wintry grasp. The chill once again slowed his enemy, the elf decelerating to a crawl as his body was gripped by the cold, his legs heavy and nearly frozen and his body sapped of its warmth and strength.

Now was the time. He had done enough to satisfy his trainers and prove his competency.

As the elf crawled toward him, Cassius pulled his staff back to his side, channeling his magic once more as he crystallized the moisture in the air, shaping the magic into a long, narrow spear. He pumped his magic in, building the weapon and strengthening it, forming a long, sharpened spike at the end.

The elf was once again breaking free of his magical chill, his legs chopping hard against the dirt to try to build speed, close the gap and kill his mage opponent. As the frost across his body faded away and as he was poised to attack, Cassius pushed his spear forward, launching the lance of ice.

The sound it made as it punctured the Qunari's midsection was like a boot sucking in mud, wet and heavy and squelching. The magic lance penetrated all the way through, the spike bursting out of the elf's back, hot blood steaming as the ice exited and twisted before dropping into the dirt.

The elf stumbled on his feet, falling to a knee, his eyes wide as he contemplated the hole that had opened through his vital organs. The sword fell out of his hand and his mouth opened as if to speak or scream, but no sound came out. His hands weakly moved toward the gaping wound in his midsection but never made it as his life left him and he teetered to the side, collapsing into the sand. He fell still just a moment later as the dirt below him stained red, hot blood overwhelming the frozen edges of flesh and pouring out of the void Cassius' magic had opened.

Cassius stood still there for a moment, watching. This moment was as much as part of the test as the combat itself, to see the flame of life extinguish in another sentient being, to observe and understand and acknowledge the gravity of the moment, to appreciate the power and potential of his own magic and its ability to create or destroy. Within him, he carried the power to kill, a power not tethered to sharpened metal or blunt instruments, not reliant upon the strength of his arm or his ability to outfox an opponent in a melee.

No, he was a mage, and he could end life with a thought, a bit of concentration and the flick of his fingers or the wave of his hand. And now he had, a confirmation that not only he could, but that he did.

He looked at the gnarled expression on the elf's face, twisted and half-pressed into the dirt, eyes open but empty, mouth slightly agape, chest stilled of its normal breath. Where had this elf come from? What had happened to lead him to this point? What was he fighting for that caused him to leave his home, to chart an unfortunate crossing with his Tevinter captors? What was he thinking as he charged across the arena at Cassius and did he know that even if he succeeded in killing the young mage, that he would not be saved, not go free, only executed by a different hand? Was his decision to fight purely alchemical, because why else would he do it when there was no hope of survival?

Cassius didn't have any of those answers and never would get them. In the eyes of the empire, the elf's life was insignificant, only as meaningful as the use that could be wrung out of it in forced sacrifice to better train the mages of the Circle.

With graduation from the Circle a year and a half ahead and with Praeteri blood flowing in his veins, Cassius wondered if his lot in life was really so different. He would be given a purpose and expected to fulfill it for the good of the Imperium. Some day, if he ceased to be useful, would he also be discarded?

Cassius tore his eyes away from the corpse and put the questions out of his head, turning back toward the tunnel and to his teachers, sparing no additional thought for the dead.


Minrathous, 9:42 Dragon

They waited.

The trap had been baited, and now all that was left was to catch their prey. Cassius and Plinius sat perched on the low roof across the street overlooking the rear of the butcher shop, at the loose grate that led down to the storm drains. If all went according to plan, their traitor would arrive, to collect proof of the latest kill and leave the proper payment.

Zife the Knife had intercepted an important Venatori courier carrying a packet with the latest orders for the magisters within the city. Once turned over to his contact, they would have the marching orders for the Venatori's next incursion into Orlais – when and where and how many soldiers and mages. Once in the Inquisition's hands, the enemy would be able to stab a dagger into Tevinter operations in the south once and for all.

Except for the fact that it was all fabricated.

Together, they had concocted the ruse in hopes of drawing out their foe, enticing them with a prize too sweet to pass by. The fake correspondence offered much, too much for a discerning eye to believe was real, but neither of them believed their mole was a mastermind spy. Their trail had been too obvious once they went looking for it, a traceable streak of interference that pointed to a single source. That source looked like it had come from Cassius and clued them that it had to be someone close to him.

Plinius' plan had been simple but devious. In order to pin down exactly who was their traitor, Cassius had penned five copies of the documents, all identical except for the detail of who would be carrying the orders to Magister Porenni and where they would deliver it to.

For the copy left in the Danarius penthouse, where the page Albi Danarius might come across it, the messenger would be delivering it after dinner at Magister Porenni's room. The copy Cassius carried in his pack, where Valerie's page Alex might have access to it when he was out of the room, said the orders would be delivered after dark, to the bathhouse. The letter delivered to Lysander Vespasian said the messenger would drop the orders in the Magisterium mail room, disguised as correspondence from the Porenni estate, dated two weeks ago. The version sent to Magister Ceratori's quarters said the messenger would be an elf woman waiting in the plaza, disguised as a beggar, who would ask for three bits for bread and milk for her child. Lastly, the envelope Plinius carried in his cloak, that the slave masseuse Orchid might peek while providing her services to him in the parlor, said the orders would be run across town at midnight to a ship called the Dragon Wing anchored in the harbor.

Their plan had one overt flaw – if the traitor really was Cassius or Plinius, they would be able to deceive the other fairly easily. But Cassius trusted that Plinius was not involved and vice versa, and so they had set their plan in motion. If the fake orders were intercepted, they hoped their traitor would once again contact Zife the Knife to retrieve this important missive.

Their gamble had paid off. Zife had reported faithfully to Plinius that he had been contacted again by his same mysterious patron, provided information on when and where the target would be, and informed that the mark would be carrying a parcel of utmost importance to retrieve and return, unopened. Zife had relayed the details of when and where and, in doing so, identified their traitor.

Now, all they had to do was catch him.

Cassius felt ashamed that he had indeed been the source of their leak, as the bathhouse story was the one that reached Zife's ears, confirming their traitor as the Arrentius page, Alex.

The young Laetan was craftier than Cassius gave him credit for. He had never seen the young man poking his nose where it didn't belong, but he had to acknowledge that his attention had not been on the security of his pack but on helping Valerie write, refine and practice her speeches or on debating her approach in dealing with this magister or that.

Plinius didn't seem bothered by the fact that Cassius had slipped up, instead only focused on stopping the deceitful page once and for all.

"Movement," Plinius whispered, tapping Cassius to draw his attention. He pointed to the end of the alley, where a thin figure had slipped in, staying close to the buildings and hiding deep within the shadows. He was dressed in black and didn't carry a staff as not to betray his identity as a mage. He stopped at the entry to the alley, pressed against the wall and looked down the narrow lane, before quickening his pace and skulking toward the dead drop.

"Be ready," Plinius said as he moved to a crouch, pulling his short wand from his hip. Cassius did the same, resting his staff across his lap, ready to strike.

Plinius had trapped the grate with a paralyzing glyph, strong enough that it should overwhelm even a well-trained mage and hold him for long enough for them to make it down off the roof. If they knew it was there, they might be able to resist its effect, but their foe had no reason to suspect anything was amiss. If Zife the Knife successfully completed his mission, the documents would be there.

Alex approached the grate, looking left and right again down the darkened alley to check for anyone who might be following him. He saw nothing, and bent down to remove the metal bars and claim his prize.

The glyph triggered as soon as the grate moved, the yellow ring closing in around its prey.

The paralytic ring hit a shell of blue light that enclosed the young man, shattering the spell in a burst of neutralizing magic, canceling the effect.

"Shit!" Plinius said, leaping up from his hiding spot and drawing his wand, summoning another spell. He had obviously not expected a defensive countermeasure, and Plinius thrust his wand forward, lighting three overlapping glyphs on the ground, surrounding Alex before the mage could bolt.

"Alex!" Cassius called out as he jumped up from his hiding place. "Surrender!"

The page looked up, seeing them on the rooftop across the street. He was as Zife had described him before, fully cloaked and wearing a metal mask to hide his face. He stopped, perhaps considering surrendering. He looked like he was looking at Cassius specifically, before he looked down at the ground at the glyphs that surrounded him.

"Don't even try," Plinius said quietly to himself, watching the cornered mage, perhaps sensing his intent.

Alex's hand darted to his side, followed by the sound of glass breaking and a wall of purple smoke rising from the ground. The glyph to the mage's right, back toward the entrance of the alley where he had come in, lit, but the smoke obscured what was caught inside. Plinius was already working another spell, weaving a net of more glyphs on the ground to cut off any possible escape in that direction, while Cassius hopped over the edge of the roof and quickly lowered himself against the wall before dropping to the street. He swept his staff, summoning wind to blow the smoke aside.

As the haze parted, he could see that the glyph was empty – it had been triggered by the metal grate that now hovered suspended above the ground, trapped within the magical ring of energy. Instead, the entry to the drain was now open, revealing a drop into the pipe under the street.

"He's in the drain!" Cassius shouted and a second later the glyphs on the ground disappeared as Plinius dismissed them to allow his compatriot to advance without paralyzing himself. Cassius quickly dropped to the ground, extending his legs into the hole and slipping down into the drain, his chest and shoulders scraping the dirty bricks as he barely fit as compared to the younger, thinner mage.

His feet splashed down into the muck as he quickly looked side to side, hearing the splashing of footsteps to his right in the darkness. He quickly called a magelight to the head of his staff, illuminating the tunnel, and broke into a run, giving chase. The tunnel was short and narrow and he had to duck his head slightly to make his way, while the shorter page was just short enough to run. Cassius could see the dark blip ahead of him getting smaller, knowing that he was losing ground.

He opened himself to the Fade, letting his magic pour into him, as he formed the spell, pushing himself through the Fade, leaving a trail of frost behind him as he blinked forward in the tunnel. When his body materialized, he did it again, vaulting himself forward through the narrow drain. He kept himself open to the Fade, letting the mana rush in as quickly as it could as he linked his spells.

As he flowed from one spell into the next, he could feel the strain across his physical form as he pushed himself to maintain the link to his mana and force his body ahead after his pursuer. This type of flow casting, the type he had described and explored as he thesis within the Circle, ran counter to traditional practice of opening the connection to the Fade, pulling the power necessary for the spell, and then shutting it off until it was needed again. Instead, by leaving the door open, the current rushed in, threatening not only to overflow its user with mana but also to invite in whatever spirit or demon might choose to ride the wave across the Veil.

His quarry stopped suddenly in the drain ahead of him, turning around and lifting a hand in his direction. As Cassius dropped out of his latest Fade step, he could see the glint of gold on the mage's fingers, red light glowing from a gem on the middle finger as the ball of flame swirled into being at Alex's palm. Cassius jammed his foot into the ground to stop himself and drew his staff across his body, pulling up a barrier just as the sphere of flame filled the gullet of the pipe. The impact against his shield knocked him backward along the ground as it reflected the fire back toward Alex.

As the magical fire dissipated into smoke, he shoved the barrier out to blow the haze away, watching as legs and feet slipped up into the ceiling and back onto the street. He held his breath as he burst through the lingering smoke and came to the opening above him, jumping and pulling himself out of the drain.

Alex was just ahead of him, sprinting down the alley and cutting down the next street. Cassius pushed himself into a run again. He recognized this area of the city as he scanned his surroundings while running. They were near the capitol square and the Magisterium. It was late, so the guard on the streets would be light, but still, it was a risky route for a getaway, likely to run afoul of the night sentries.

The traitor wasn't making it easy, either, as Cassius trailed him, trying to keep up as he twisted and turned along the narrow streets and alleys, giving no clean window for him to cast a spell even if he could concentrate long enough at full sprint to summon something worthwhile enough. The darkened windows and building facades whipped by in streaks of black and brown and gray, the magelight lanterns over the streets leaving streaks of yellow across his vision as they bolted past them.

Alex threw his hand out to the side, light glowing from his hand again as he pointed his fingers down, summoning a trail of grease behind him as he ran. Before Cassius' feet hit the slick, he slowed just enough to focus his frost magic once more, vaulting himself forward once again through the Fade, the trail of chill icing over the puddle as he warped past it through the ethereal plane. He came out on the other end of his Fade jump, eyes and ears catching the sight of a metal ring bouncing along the stones, discarded by its wearer.

Alex cut left down another alley but Cassius kept straight, hoping to cut him off at the next street over. They were dangerously close to the Magisterium now. If they were spotted, the guards were just as likely to come after him as his quarry, so he needed to end this pursuit sooner than later. As he ran down the street, he looked at the buildings to his side, trying to perceive what was behind them, judging his speed and the distance before jerking hard to his side, blinking through the Fade again as he phased through the closed and locked door of someone's home and emerged into their front living room.

Cassius exhaled as he materialized inside – trying to phase through objects was a risk, because if the spell came up short he could end up halfway lodged inside solid material – and kept on, dodging furniture as his feet hit rich carpet underfoot. He hoped this gamble paid off as he knocked his way through an interior door, slamming through it loudly and almost certainly waking anyone who was asleep upstairs and probably scaring them half to death at an intruder in their house. He spotted the back door and prepared himself again, holding his breath as he summoned his frost and blinked into the Fade just before slamming face-first into the wall, phasing out into the alley behind and nearly slamming into Alex as he successfully cut him off.

The young mage stopped at the sudden appearance of Cassius before him and tried to turn, but Cassius thrusted his staff upward, a wall of ice jutting up from the ground and filling the narrow alley, hemming in his opponent. Alex, seeing the frozen barrier, turned back and wasted no time coming on the attack. His hand raised, another golden ring lighting on his finger as tendrils of lightning crackled from his fingertips, spraying out at Cassius.

Cassius pulled another barrier across his body, holding the crackling energy as Alex pushed toward him, the intensity of the lightning increasing as the distance shortened, as he tried to force a way around his pursuer. Cassius could feel the stress through his forehead as he taxed himself to hold the barrier and maintain the flow of mana coursing into him. The weight of the Fade was infinite and the pressure was building as he held his connection open. He was sweating, his lungs burning as he overexerted himself to hold it all together, knowing that he couldn't keep up the defense for much longer.

He divided his mind, pulling his frost to his left hand as he held his barrier with his staff in the right, summoning his power one last time as he simultaneously let the barrier fall as he pushed himself into the Fade one last time, his body cutting through his opponent, the frost chilling Alex as he blinked back to the physical world behind him. As his feet touched stone, he swung his body back, whipping his staff around and slamming the pole across the chest of his opponent.

The sound of wood on ice sounded like cracking glass as the force of the blow threw Alex against the wall. The impact stunned him and he slipped, falling to the ground. Cassius was on top of him, bringing the head of his staff to bear and preparing to attack again and put an end to this farce. Alex raised his hands to cover his face and he recoiled, crying out.

"Caz!"

His entire body froze mid-motion and he nearly fell over as his momentum tried to carry him forward.

There was only one person in all of Thedas who called him that.

As his body came to a halt, staff a foot from striking his fallen foe in the head, the traitor slowly reached for the metal mask covering his face and pulled it off.

Cassius's staff fell from his hand and he stumbled back a step as he saw Valerie's face peering out at him from underneath the dark hood.

She slowly lowered the mask away from her head, grimacing at the movement. She didn't blink, her eyes fixed on his face as she pulled back the hood, revealing her curly, red-tinged hair, looking black in the darkness of the alley. She was not only in pain but also terrified, even though she made no further attempt to escape.

"Valerie…" Cassius uttered, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing. "What are… how…"

"It's me, Caz," Valerie said, a quiver in her voice as she said it. "It was me."

"What… why? Why? Why would you betray your family, your father?" he asked, paralyzed even as he could hear the sounds of rustling from the buildings within, of people coming to investigate the clatter made by their chase. "Me?"

"She said she would kill you if I didn't obey!" Valerie answered, the words nearly coming out in a sob, barely bit back as her courage overwhelmed her shame. "They were going to kill you if I didn't help them."

"Who?" Cassius asked, turning his head slightly as the noise of confusion began to grow behind him. "Who threatened to kill me?"

Valerie turned her head to her side, biting down emotion as her entire face curled inward at once. "The Inquisition. Magister Tilani."

She leapt off the ground now, her hands grabbing the collar of Cassius' coat, the magical rings on her right hand glowing gently over the black glove that covered her soft, delicate hands. "Caz, I wasn't going to let them hurt you. She just wanted to stop father, to stop the Venatori. If I helped her, she promised she wouldn't have to hurt anyone. Please, Caz, you have to believe me. I didn't… I didn't want her to hurt you."

She was rambling now as it all spilled out, and it all became clear in his head. She had unguarded access to both him and her father, the ability to slip into their trust and exploit it to get whatever she wanted. Cassius hadn't even considered her as a suspect. He couldn't fathom a motive for her to betray her own house, to confound and complicate the efforts of her father and the Venatori. He couldn't figure out how her page had gained access to the amount of information he had, but that's because the young Laetan never could have gained as much as his master.

And what had her meddling caused? With every setback the Venatori faced, her father dug deeper into his own pocket to try to rescue it, beggaring himself and his house as he placed all of his hope and all of his faith in their movement and the promises made to restore them to greatness. Flavius was battling an opponent he could not see and one that was inside his own manor, that shared his same blood, that was working opposite to everything he hoped to accomplish, someone who was doing it to protect a worthless Praeteri.

With Flavius doubling down on the Venatori and Valerie helping their enemies to destroy it, they were unknowingly working together to drive their house into ruin. All the while, Maevaris Tilani tugged on the strings, watching them all dance to her puppeteering.

"Caz, say something," Valerie said, shaking the collar of his coat, to snap him back to reality.

"You have to get out of here, before someone sees you," Cassius said, glancing up and down the alley. There were lights in the windows of the house he had burst through in his pursuit. It was only moments now before they were caught. "Go back to your room. I'll… I'll be there in a bit and we'll sort this all out."

"I will," Valerie said with a matter-of-fact nod of her head. "I'll be there. I'll wait for you."

She pushed back from him, backpedaling on her feet away from him, abandoning the metal mask where it lay. As she reached the end of the alley, she stopped, gave one more long look at him, then threw her hood back over her head and disappeared into the darkness.

Cassius spared one more glance down the alley, watching the spot where she was standing, now gone. He bent down and picked up the mask, tucking it inside coat before he turned and ran the opposite direction, to rendezvous with Plinius.

His mind wheeled as he quickly walked back through the alleys and out onto the main streets, moving quickly but not too quickly as to not draw the wrong kind of attention to himself. He set his staff back across his back, trying to process what had happened.

It wasn't long before Plinius found him, the two men meeting in the middle of the street.

"Well?" Plinius said as he observed Cassius, alone and winded.

"He… he got away," Cassius lied, dropping his eyes in what might have looked like the disappointment of failure in the chase but what really was disappointment that he had been to blind to see what was before him. He pulled the metal mask out from inside his jacket, holding it in his hands. He tapped the edge of the metal against his palm.

Plinius considered the mask. "It wasn't the page, was it?"

"No," he said. He could have lied, have pinned it on the young Laetan and let whatever might happen next happen, but he couldn't stomach the idea of having an innocent young man suffer the consequences for something he didn't do. The thought made his stomach turn almost as much as thinking what might happen to Valerie. "It was–"

Plinius raised a hand to stop him short, before he spoke the name out loud. "I had suspected as much. Don't worry, Cassius, your secret, her secret, is safe with me. I had a contingency prepared for exactly this situation. Let's just say our 'friend' Jaxxon Terititus may soon have some trouble on his hands. I owe him for some… past affronts, and this presents the perfect opportunity."

Plinius cracked a sly smile, half obscured by the shroud that covered half of his face. "I trust you have some loose ends of your own to wrap up tonight."

"Yes," Cassius said, tucking the mask back into his coat and rolling his fingers into a fist.

He needed answers.

Now.