Leudora Galbur walked through the center of Athens, staring absentmindedly at the rows of shops and bars and biding her time. She wondered how long it would take the former Alkara Orjeta Myzeqari to receive her message and inform the Red Leader of Leudora's request. By evening she could reach Bratislava and face her, but it was not stubborn and sharp-tongued Orjeta who was responsible for her troubled thoughts. Suppressing a sudden shiver, she unbuttoned her coat and stopped beside a colorful windowpane: even cherry liquor could not remedy a heavy heart and a disturbed mind. But it was worth a try.

She entered a café with glass doors and occupied the first free chair she found, asking for cherry liquor. The waiter smiled and told her they had none, but promised to bring something equally appealing. Perhaps it was the cold sparkle in his eyes, or perhaps it was Leudora's imagination that played tricks on her, but she could not relinquish a memory that suddenly resurfaced in the dark waters of her consciousness. She clasped her hands on the table and lowered her head. That memory poisoned her mind.

"And if I don't agree?" She curled her graceful lips into a glyph of self-derision.

"You will." There was nothing but pure confidence in his voice – polite and cold certainty befitting a man of his standing. "You understand what's at stake." He willed his expression to a blank slate that responded to surroundings rather than expressed sentiments. Leudora could not sense a single energy signature left by his thoughts, but she understood him.

"Every secrecy is temporary," she said.

"Indeed. It suits us, doesn't it?"

Eyes of charcoal met glowing ice-green crystals: were they indeed so alike that it allowed him to read her strategies effortlessly? The mere idea made her blood freeze.

She emptied the glass, immediately asking for another dose of alcohol - this time with bitter black tea. Some memories demanded more liquor than she could stomach. Beyond the Veil she felt little, and she liked it that way. Leudora stretched her hand once again to reach the red-colored liquid but stopped mid-air. She felt someone watching her.

"My Lady Galbur!" The voice had duplicitous notes in it - sweet and sour at the same time. She recognized Otakar Lišák, the Spy Guild's best informant. "You are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you. It's been some time. Did you miss my company?"

"Now I miss your absence," she replied, taking a small sip and staring past Lišák. He studied her dark-blue woollen coat and her silver dress as if she were a precious painting. Leudora ignored the unwanted attention and continued drinking. Lišák lowered his slender figure into the armchair opposite to her. The dark-eyed time-master always had an affinity for polite introductions.

"Your negative attitude upsets me. I was hoping you would become more open to interesting opportunities."

"Are you here to offer me 'opportunities'?" Leudora put the glass down and lifted an eyebrow.

"Maybe." A reconciliatory smile creased his calm features. 

"What do you want with me, Lišák?" she asked him in Czech. His face acquired a familiar cunning expression.

"What would a humble information merchant want from a lady as sublime as yourself?" He bowed his head as if adhering to some protocol. "Your kind disposition, my lady."

"Have you travelled all the way to Greece to get my blessing?" Leudora said, twisting her lips in annoyance. "I am impressed." She put her hands on the table. "You have a minute at your disposal."

"You do have trouble accepting compliments."

"You have wasted five seconds."

"I am here to warn you."

"Please, do." Leudora challenged him. She almost felt disappointed that the Spy did not come to question her 'dangerous' theories about the Veil. Lišák let her reply slide.

"My organization is well aware of your dealings."

"Your presence confirms that much." Leudora pressed her lips tightly together. "I would have fewer things to explain to Rinari then, wouldn't I?"

"The Spy Guild is not your enemy, Lady Galbur. Our past misunderstandings have left unpleasant consequences behind, but Lady Rinari is most reasonable." Lišák spoke softly, making Leudora wonder if there was ever a person beneath the Veil who could call the eccentric Albanian 'reasonable'. But Lišák just did.

"We could even convince our gravity-bending friends that you are not their nemesis, that you are not another Larisa Lascari," Lišák continued. "After all, sooner or later, the truth will come up."

The hint of a fire that rose in her eyes was keen and indomitable. She was not insane, she was not Larisa Lascari. 

"Nobody has a monopoly on truth, pan Lišák. I am a philosopher. I know."

"Maybe so," he agreed. "But you are hunting the wrong prey, my lady. Why should Slavoj Kosar and all those disturbing murders be of interest to you? You can return to the Fasma and take care of your books and light scrolls. There's no need for you to interfere with politics and the Veil. You are a philosopher, not a physicist. What can you possibly do?" He sighed. "Your noble strivings are dangerous. The Spy Guild, on the other hand, can provide you with some useful information regarding the current Archon. You step aside, and we step in."

Leudora was almost amused by Lišák's attempts to bribe her.

"You are offering me an opportunity to watch the gravity-switchers take down my kin. A most interesting proposal. But you're forgetting one important detail." She shot him an extinguishing look. "They will begin with energy-twisters. They will continue with time-masters. How long do you think those who barely tolerate the psychic variations will let us live? You and me?" She knew Lišák was too smart to ignore the obvious. Leudora took a sip from her cup to wash down the bitter liquor. "You are not like most Psychics. There is a different air about you. But if you have indeed reached that enlightenment that all seem to seek, you remain ridiculously narrow-minded: why haven't you left the Realm, I wonder? Because you can't, or because you won't? I have not changed my opinion, Lišák. The Psychics are not the cause of the problem, but the effect: another massacre will solve nothing."

"Maybe there is no other option. Either we die or we cast away our ambition... and curiosity." His whisper reminded Leudora of a snake's hiss. She smirked.

"A bleak perspective that won't change much. I am very good at thinking, Lišák."

"I know."

"I hope you do."

"Everyone has forsaken you. You have no one to turn to but your enemy. You believe an enemy will help you, don't you?" Lišák shook his head. He did not try to drag her into an ideological dispute, and for that Leudora owed him her grudging thanks.

"Sometimes an enemy understands your motivation better than a friend."

"If you prefer to strike deals with your enemies, at least you should choose those who have better odds of winning. The Spy Guild is reliable and predictable. The Red Leader, on the other hand, will have you killed if it suits him."

Leudora's lips twisted: she almost managed to match Lišák's vagueness.

"What is that you are trying to accomplish?"

"I...?" Raised black eyebrows conveyed polite surprise. Lišák stirred in his chair, gathering his thoughts. "I am a cautious man, Lady Galbur. Some information is better left alone. Neither you nor your dear Hungarian friend understand this..." Now his implicit threat became apparent. Leudora nodded nonchalantly: if the Spy Guild ever tried to harm Szemere, she'd find a way to tear them to pieces.

"My dear Hungarian friend," Leudora repeated his words carefully, "is an Inquisitor of the Fasma, whose duty is to knowledge. Leave him out of this. Ferenc Szemere has never acted out of character, has he? You can confirm that much."

"I can," Lišák agreed, avoiding Leudora's metallic eyes with golden-silver flames inside. "I chose to warn you about the possible consequences of your actions, my lady, since I have the deepest respect for your persona. Unfortunately, you are alone. It saddens me to observe we have not reached any accordance."

Leudora chuckled bitterly, allowing her lips to twist into an unpleasant grin. She rose slowly, leaving the money on the table, and nodded to Lišák.

"I have no time to share your sadness, Lišák."

She felt Lišák follow her pace with his dark eyes, but she did not turn around. He could not know about the things she remembered. That lilting Croatian accent...

She scoffed, but the sound sailed away in the whir of propelled wind. A gaunt man stared into the bleak darkness.

"You thought of killing me before, I am sure. You may take your chance now if you wish to."

"That would make no sense at the moment," Leudora replied, watching cold amusement appear and fade in his unnatural eyes.

"Indeed." A slow nod of the head, impossibly long hands clasped behind his back and the wind howling outside – had she been an artist, she would have painted it all.

"The payment will come. If not now, then later. From your hand or from another."

"You will pay not for your cruelty but for your mercy," she said with grim certainty. "The latter will be your downfall."

"Maybe so," he agreed calmly. "That does not change the outcome."

"You are playing with fate, Lord Serpent."

"Not with. Against. It's always 'against', lady Galbur." He shot her a long piercing glance.