Leudora Galbur remembered the day when she had announced her uncle's abduction to the Archon, standing in her purple robes in the middle of the Fasma Sanctuary in Bucharest. Her hair was longer, and the glare of her metallic eyes held a different kind of fire – it was softer, warmer. But that ambition inside her had not changed.

"You wished to see me, Keeper?" Calimachi smiled at her with superficial politeness. She moved swiftly through the hall, only hearing the muffled sound of her robes wiping the floor. Calimachi's yellowish eyes followed her every step with a mixture of lust, disdain and something which she could not identify.

"My uncle, Svetozar Galbur, has been abducted by Domagoj Drašković and his associates," she said after a long pause. "If he doesn't return safely to Belgrade, my relatives will slaughter every gravity-switcher that crosses their path. If violence escalates, they will lose. You must understand the implications of their defeat, Your Grace."

"You do know that the Fasma has neither the right nor the power to interfere with politics, don't you?" Calimachi asked cautiously.

"I am aware of that, Your Grace. But if we don't interfere this time, there will be no Fasma." She lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms on her chest. "What will happen to our legacy if our kin is exterminated? I am certain that you have asked yourself the same question."

The Archon did not answer. She groaned inwardly at his lecherous grin but did not let her features reflect her concern. She had to be calm. That was the only way to persuade him to agree to her plan.

"It is most naïve to expect the gravity-switchers to discern us from the rest of the Psychics. Our purple robes won't buy our lives," Leudora added after a pause. Calimachi only shook his head in response.

"You do not belong in this war, lady Galbur. You are a Keeper, not a diplomat or a soldier."

"I won't have much to keep if the war rages on." She interjected, her lips twisting. "When our warlords run out of enemies, they will fight history. Isn't it our duty to protect it?"

Calimachi's yellow eyes sparkled in the light reflected from the mirrors behind his back, and all that Leudora saw there was fear and confusion.

"Do you value knowledge, your Grace?" A provocative glare of her wild asphalt-colored eyes jolted him to a halt.

"I am the Archon! Why would you even ask this from me?"

"Because Fasma representatives negotiated peace centuries ago," she answered. "Our impartiality gives us certain privileges." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Let me discuss the return of my uncle." Calimachi backed away, then turned towards a long row of shelves and motioned to the side.

"You are insane, Lady Galbur. More so than I have expected. Go kill yourself if you want. I won't participate in that."

"I only ask you not to interfere with my actions."

"Interfere?" he snorted, "What can I do to stop you?"

"Nothing."

"You will die."

"Death is an option. Victory is a necessity. I intend to win."

She did not hear Calimachi swear under his breath, but she was certain that he did.

Leudora's mother was less prone to negotiations. Adeona asked Lorei to throw Leudora out when she appeared on the doorstep of her house - one of Bucharest's Art Nouveau masterpieces lost in the labyrinths surrounding Armeneasca street. Leudora only glared at her sister, forcing Lorei to shrug her shoulders and roll her eyes. Leudora flung the door open and entered without asking for permission.

"Get out..." Adeona grunted. Ignoring her mother's greeting, Leudora lowered herself into an old wooden armchair in front of a polished coffee table.

"I will not." She swung back, resting her eyes on her mother's outraged face.

Adeona lifted her hand, kindling electric sparks on her fingertips, but the gesture did not impress Leudora.

"I wouldn't try that." Her voice sounded calm and indifferent, but an unmistakable threat lurked beneath its silky surface. Not without satisfaction, she saw Adeona withdraw her hand.

"I have come to collect a certain item," Leudora said, staring at the window. "If I am not mistaken Domagoj Drašković called it a 'star heart'. The Council scholars cannot agree whether it should be considered a material crafted by the Ancestors or a meteorite. Svetozar supposedly stole it from Drašković and handed it over to you."

"I will give you nothing!" Adeona's fist hit the wooden table. Leudora scoffed, lifting an eyebrow. Not a single muscle of her face twitched.

"I never thought the choice between pride and someone's life could be that difficult...."

Adeona clenched her teeth and shot her a spiteful glare. Leudora rose slowly from the armchair and leaned over the table, her breath almost reaching her mother's face.

"Don't approach me!" Adeona's high-pitched voice rang in her ears with the urgency of a fire alarm. Leudora scoffed and withdrew.

"I can't help but annoy everyone around me. I must be doing something right." Before Adeona opened her mouth to threaten her, Leudora leapt forward and buried her fiery stare into her mother's eyes. "If something happens to Svetozar, I will make sure that every Byzantine Blood blames you for his death. I can do that much. I don't need to prove it. Your illustrious reputation will help me in the matter. How long can your beloved family stay in power after you allow Svetozar Galbur to be tortured to death by your mortal enemies?"

Adeona's face went pale. Now she listened.

"You won't do that to your brothers, to young Amaltheia, to your sisters. You took the purple," she whispered, almost hissing at her.

"I will." Leudora nodded gravely, "Laurenția and Leften will be the first to support me. She is fighting on the frontlines and he is a doctor. They know the costs of this war. You do not. Upon hearing about Domagoj and Tomislav Drašković torturing Svetozar, most of the Fasma will be in battle by tomorrow. And dead within a week. Only a halfwit fails to grasp this simple causality." Neglect crept into her voice.

"I should have killed you when I had a chance," Adeona hissed.

"You should have," Leudora nodded nonchalantly, "but you are short-sighted. And I am quite alive. Now I need that 'star heart'. I will throw it into Domagoj Drašković's hands and bring my uncle back to Belgrade," she paused, "And in the process, I will make sure everyone knows you have contributed to the cause of our kin."

"And if you fail..." Adeona snarled.

"It will be my failure. After all, you've always wanted me dead. You won't be disappointed regardless of the result."

Feeling the warmth of the star heart in her robe's pocket, Leudora walked beneath the Veil in Cismigiu park, taking slow and deep breaths. She stopped at the edge of the lake, casting brief glances at its greenish waters and twisting a light projector in her hands. The park smelled of fresh leaves and moisture – a haven in the heart of a bustling city. "Will they want a piece of metal in exchange for a life?" she wondered. "People kill for less." She switched on the light projector, logged in and dialed the code, allowing a soft glow to descend upon her.

"I have your treasure, Magister Kosar," Leudora said, staring into the shimmering web of energy surrounding her. "I hope you understand what kind of risk I take accepting your offer and agreeing to bring your star heart to Zadar."

"I fully comprehend, my lady. Lord Domagoj has been trying to locate it for years... It is precious to him beyond measure, I assure you. I know it from his son." Slavoj's dim projection reacted with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Hopefully it sways Domagoj Drašković. If it does not, I can only offer my life in exchange," Leudora said, feigning nonchalance. "My life does not cost much for now. But I can triple its value by making a lot of trouble."

Slavoj shook his head, frowning.

"I don't intend to betray your trust, Lady Galbur. I am risking as much as you are. I'm not supposed to talk to you. I dislike your kin and I cannot deny the imminent danger that your enhancement poses to us all. But I am an Alkar. I cannot approve of Offcasts kidnapping each other for the sake of their personal vendettas."

"You will forgive my lack of faith, but I find it difficult to believe that the Drašković butchers have ever thought of negotiating with my people." Leudora pursed her lips disapprovingly. "If a piece of iron can change their mood I will be... most surprised. But I am not delusional. I wish to convey a very simple message to your kin, Magister: if my uncle dies, whatever fuss I can make will seem harmless babble compared to the havoc his murder will cause. Even if the Dalmatian Serpent is as impressive with his tricks as you think, and even if he wins in the end... he will be the last one standing on a pile of ashes." She lifted an eyebrow, clasping her hands behind her back. Slavoj's round face grew concerned.

"I have urged the Alka Guard to oversee those negotiations."

"Have you indeed, Magister?" Her smirk conveyed bitter amusement. "The Lovrens and the Alkari seem to be rather far from embracing each other's plans."

"Guardian Drašković is extremely rational and cold-headed. Besides, he knows these people."

Leudora could not believe her ears.

"You are a strange man, Magister," she uttered slowly. "You expect a Drašković to be different from his relatives. Why? So far, the Serpent has proven himself very efficient in organizing mass slaughters of my people."

"Lady Galbur..." He looked down, collecting his thoughts. "I didn't expect all the Lascaris to turn out the way your mother did. Was I wrong?"

Leudora eyed him with deliberate interest, gathering her thoughts. She could not have voiced a better argument herself.

"Most people do not dig deeper to cast their judgement. I see you are different."

"And so are you." He stopped, took a deep breath and stared into her eyes. "Guardian Drašković abides by the rules, my lady. I give you my word as the Magister of the Alka Guard. Will this be enough for you?"

"Does this even matter?"

"No." He switched off the projector before she did.

A feeling of disquiet twisted Leudora's gut: she never trusted Kosar, but chose to rely on his words to stop the Offcasts from exterminating each other. After all, Sava could not keep his father's disappearance a secret forever. He remained in Belgrade, confusing his war-mongering cousins. Leudora forced Sava to lie - for her sake, for her uncle's sake, for all their sakes. She knew all too well that with their attention focused on Svetozar's rescue, the Galburs would leave the rest of her kin defenseless. Sava bought her the time she desperately needed to travel to Zadar. And she seized the opportunity, carefully planning her every move, sculpting possibilities out of probabilities.

Veselina Gurova, pale and shaking, hugged Leudora before letting her go with her father's glider. The vessel, made of shifting sleek surfaces and changing forms inside and outside, kept its passengers in bubble-like containers, cutting through the fabrics of the Veil. Slavoj Kosar assured her she would not be attacked. But his promises meant nothing to her: she was sneaking behind the enemy lines, and she knew the cost of failure.

Kostadin Gurov and his daughter came to Bucharest to see her off. Gurov did not wish her luck, did not attempt to reassure her or to cheer her up. All he whispered to her was an old Sintarel farewell: 'Minar ne formar'. Giddily, Leudora stepped forward and allowed the glider to envelop her frame. It was time to act.

She found the Drašković residence surprisingly unassuming. A shadow of a grin tugged at her lips when she raised her head: Leudora had expected to see a pretentious palace, but instead she faced a chaffed stone structure with thick walls, wooden window shutters and protruding weatherboards. Drowning in greenery, it had an air of blissful serenity about it. Leudora could not chase away the nagging feeling of uneasiness that flooded her consciousness while she was approaching the house. Singing birds and blossoming roses only enhanced her wariness: "A charming place. Too charming to be real." She slid the blood lily ring on her finger, ignoring the prickling sensation it sent through her bones, and kept her hand from shaking with sheer will power. Leudora's eyes teared when she forced herself to move forward, feigning complete detachment. She would not let the Dalmatian Serpent see her falter, nor would she let his family dictate their terms to her.

A woman with a sulky face flung open the door, revealing a hall decorated with marble and wooden panels. Leudora recognized Korina Lovren but did not show any sign of interest or fear, while Lady Lovren measured her with a look of searing hatred.

"If you are not alone, it will be a pleasure to kill you."

Leudora raised an eyebrow in response.

"You certainly have a perverse idea of pleasure." She reached out for her leather bag, making sure that Lady Lovren saw the blood lily. Pressing her palms to her mouth, she stepped away petrified. Leudora intended to ignore Lady Lovren's terror and float into the house with all the elegance she could muster, but a sudden sense of foreboding made her stop. She felt someone stare at her, the gaze so intense that it sent shivers through her body and forced her hands to tremble. Summoning all her courage, she lifted her chin and glanced at a man with cold eyes of unnatural green.

Guardian Dragomir Drašković struck an impressive figure clad in his red-and-black uniform. Leudora bit her lower lip and pushed herself forward, staring at the paneled walls of the corridor. His presence sent rippling waves of shimmering energy through the Veil, making Leudora question her sanity: something about him felt fractured, as if some parts of his consciousness were butchered. She had read about mind cracks inflicted by the Byzantine Bloods before, but had never encountered anything like that hollow darkness within the Serpent.

"Lady Lovren." Perfect politeness and nothing behind it. Lady Lovren tensed and stopped in the middle of the corridor, lowering her gaze. If Leudora had ever doubted the weight of the Serpent's influence, now she saw the confirmation she needed: "Sometimes the quiet voice of a reserved man carries a greater threat than a roaring army."

His vividly colored eyes shifted to Leudora. "I assume that we both have little time to spare. I suggest we start the negotiations."

The Serpent showed Leudora in with a sweeping gesture of his long hand. She nodded, slowly entering the living room and taking her time to study the Offcasts, all of whom stared at her with varying degrees of hostility. Tomislav Drašković's big round face with fleshy nose flickered all too often in the media, and Leudora instantly recognized him. The man beamed with self-content and pride, while two other Offcasts beside him looked both angry and intimidated. She willed her face to a blank slate, moving as swiftly as the Serpent himself. Whispers rose when Leudora brushed a strand of auburn hair away from her face, her blood lily shining on her finger: the echoes ringing inside the house reminded her that gravity-switchers respected power above all else.

Her eyes widened as she felt a sudden boost of self-confidence and turned to look at the man with olive skin and a thick mustache: was he Hrvoje Duančić? The small gravity-switcher by his side could be Igor Lorven. Leudora did not recognize all the others, but felt their undivided scrutiny. Warily, she wondered if the Serpent's attentive eyes caught her brief lapse in control.

Behind Leudora, Korina Lovren scoffed. "You should be very thankful we have not killed you now that you have entered this house."

"You could have tried," Leudora said with cold indifference, "Frankly, you do not have much to gain from my death. Not yet." She tilted her head to the side, stopping in the middle of the living room. "Your kin has bled as much as mine has. My life will not break the tide. But my uncle's life may do just that." She paused, casting a questioning stare at Dragomir Drašković. His face remained a mask of sharp angles and hollows with long strands of black hair with red undertones covering his forehead. He did not even flinch at Leudora's words, while Tomislav Drašković fumed with anger.

"I will just shoot both you and your uncle and save us the trouble! A Byzantine scum like you should know its place!" Tomislav stepped forward, but Leudora did not move, daring him to touch her. He prepared to grab her hand when the Serpent bent gravity and tossed him away with a barely noticeable twitch of his long fingers. Everyone gasped in shock, and Leudora lifted an eyebrow, allowing herself a private smirk. Tomislav rose to his feet quickly, his face boiling with rage. He was ready to confront the Serpent, but his nephew materialized behind him, wearing the same mask of cold indifference. His movements were so quick that Leudora barely registered them.

"You are nuts, Dragomir!" Tomislav shouted. Dragomir's cold gaze made Tomislav swallow his breath.

"You are free to address the Magisters of the Alka if you wish to question their orders or the actions of their representative. I have no reason to explain myself." He turned to Leudora, his slanted eyebrow flicking. "If you have something to say, I suggest you start talking, Lady Galbur."

"Your hospitality certainly gives no room for introductions." She paused. "I believe you and your kin may find this relic precious." She removed the heavy piece of iron from her leather bag, lifting it in her hand. The Serpent nodded in acknowledgement.

"I presume you want to trade our star heart for your uncle's life."

"You presume correctly." The slight emphasis he put on the words 'our star heart' did not escape her.

"Svetozar Galbur deserves a slow and agonizing death. This is not a fair exchange!" Tomislav interfered. The Serpent's eerie eyes shifted from his uncle to Leudora and back, but he remained silent.

"Will it be fair if a Byzantine Blood destroys your relic?" Leudora asked, predicting an outburst of rage. Tomislav lunged forward, but the Serpent barred his way. Leudora flinched, suppressing her curiosity: he possessed the strange feline grace of a time-master, yet he lacked the sheer brute force of a gravity-switcher, which made him unlike any other Offcast she had encountered. Tomislav wanted to reply, but Dragomir stopped him with a strained gesture of his hand.

"It is a convincing argument."

"We can just take the heart from her!" Tomislav shouted. Dragomir shot him a flash of his icy stare, and again, Tomislav swallowed his bitter objections. Leudora had to admit he had a curious power to make others obey him even if they resented him.

"I will not," he said firmly. Whispers of indignation reached Leudora, growing louder. Yet no rebuttal followed. No one dared to oppose the mastermind of the Alka, and he certainly knew that much.

"This relic belongs to you, Lord Drašković." The man who Leudora had identified as Duančić interfered. "It has no place in her hands."

"And Svetozar Galbur has no place in yours," he answered, clasping his hands behind his back. Leudora stared at him expectantly, sensing the discontent and tension among the gravity-switchers. Did the Serpent enjoy provoking others?

"If the word of my uncle's capture reaches his cousins, there will be bloodshed," Leudora uttered slowly.

"Your people will die," Tomislav spat out.

"Everyone will die," she replied grimly. "I am here as a Keeper of the Fasma. And I offer you a solution that may please both sides."

"It may. But this exchange is not equal," the Serpent said, "Svetozar Galbur poses a distinct danger to every non-Psychic Offcast, while the star heart's properties are yet to be discovered. As soon as he is released, he will return to his allies. A man with his enhancement is an... inconvenience to our side."

"But so is the star heart if left in the wrong hands," Leudora objected. "Would you rather let Adeona Lascari experiment on it?"

"I would not," Dragomir replied, his expression guarded. For the first time in her life, Leudora was thankful for her mother's terrifying reputation. He nodded gravely. "I will talk to my father and Lady Lovren further."

"I understand. How much time would I need to wait to have your reply?" How much time did Svetozar have? They locked eyes briefly before he replied.

"Two days."

Leudora took a deep breath.

"I need your word to know my uncle is alive. I will know if you lie, Guardian Drašković."

"He is alive." He did not hesitate. "Anything else?"

"No." Leudora tilted her head to the side. Without saying good-bye, she left the room. She resisted the temptation to turn around and look into those unnatural eyes once again.

Leudora took Veselina Gurova's advice and travelled to a remote Istrian village to hide herself at one of the once numerous Fasma Sanctuaries. When a fellow keeper greeted her, she nodded absentmindedly, too busy disentangling her troubled thoughts: "Too many variables to consider, to many outcomes to predict."

"Are you okay?" the man asked quietly, peering at her from behind an olive tree. Leudora lifted an eyebrow and smothered a scoff.

"Do I look okay?" She entered a small garden with a low fence of sharp white stones, stopping mid-way. The Keeper shrugged and let out a beleaguered sigh.

"The Dalmatian Serpent did not pull off any of his tricks to harm you..."

"I don't think that was his aim."

"Then... what did that snake want?" He hesitated, fidgeting nervously. "What was he like?"

Leudora shook her head. She was not certain she could describe that endearing aura of power that he radiated. And then there was his lilting pronunciation in literary Croatian: how could it happen that Dragomir Drašković was the only person in his family who lacked a thick Dalmatian accent?

"He is a heartless bastard, isn't he?" the keeper asked, and his words affected Leudora more than she would have cared to admit.

"Intelligence is not a crime," Leudora said dismally. "Some people are smart enough to deserve their arrogance."

She walked away, approaching a small olive grove and ignoring the Keeper trailing behind. Eventually he'd lose interest and leave her alone. She needed a clear head now more than ever, and patience came sluggishly to her. After pacing around olive trees and blackberry bushes, she spotted a wooden bench behind a shed of white stone and stopped: sometimes even Leudora wanted to sit and stare at the horizon, emptying her mind.

Lord Domagoj Drašković responded quicker than she had anticipated. He sent her an old-fashioned hand-written light-message with flickering letters forming intricate patterns crafted by an experienced bureaucrat. She skimmed it, her face growing paler after every word. Domagoj Drašković agreed to meet her in the woods of the Dalmatian hinterland and carry out the exchange. The Dalmatian Serpent and the Alkari were conveniently left out.

"Does Domagoj Drašković think I am going to deliver myself into the hands of his people?" she wondered. "Or does he think that I do not have a choice?" Her mouth quirked in a bitter smirk as she watched the clear sky above her head suddenly darken. Leudora almost missed the short buzz of her projector, when a tiny drop of rain brushed her cheek. Registering Despina Asenova's signature, Leudora took the device out of her leather bag, allowing it to dissipate into glowing light, painting the ground in white and silver.

"Professor Asenova." She bowed her head slightly. "You must have extraordinary reasons to use a light projector under such circumstances."

"The line is secure," she replied with an almost affronted look.

"I have received news from my cousin," Leudora said after a pause. "Sava is injured. We have lost Northern Serbia. I do not believe our commanders realize the severity of the situation."

"They do not, Leu." Despina Asenova shook her head. "And you need to return to Bucharest as soon as you can. Run. I will send a glider after you."

"With all due respect, Professor," Leudora crossed her arms on her chest, furrowing her eyebrows, "I cannot do that at the moment."

A deep frown creased lady Asenova's fine features.

"Svetozar is beyond our help. Losing you along with him is not the solution."

"It is not," Leudora answered solemnly. "I intend to return with my uncle."

"You may not return at all. Leu," Despina's voice cracked, "They intend to kill you. I know that for sure."

"I have theorized that much," she answered aloofly. "That is why I need you to send a glider to bring Svetozar back. Before they collect an army to slaughter me, they will make sure I know Svetozar is safe and sound. The only way to do so is to create an illusion of him being released."

"You have known that their fear of a lightning-bearer like yourself would eventually push them down this road, haven't you?"

"I did not discount the possibility." She scowled bitterly. "However, my current position does not allow me to locate Svetozar by myself."

"Leave that to me." Despina's face darkened. "We have captured one of the Lovrens. Laurenția has, to be precise. Sava will brainwash him, and he will lead us to the place."

"You are resourceful, Professor. But we can't take greater risks. Do not let the word spread. And do not use light projectors for now."

"The light-benders will not reach you, Leu. Not yet. They have too much trouble on their hands in Albania." She paused. "How are you planning to fight an army of gravity-switchers?"

"It may not come to that." Leudora took a deep breath. "I will warn them first. I will send messages to all the prominent families having ties with the Draškovićes informing them of the danger I pose."

"It won't scare them."

"It should not. I will simply inform them of my strategy and let them decide their fate. My plan will work regardless of their choices."

"I hope you know what you are doing, Leu."

"I always know what I am doing, Professor. I know the price, the consequences and the risks," she replied, hoping she could command the confidence that had eluded her. They nodded to each other before cutting the connection.