After leaving the car, Leudora crossed a narrow path separating a lake from a steep hill and stopped by the Alka Tower, waiting for her guide. The Tower seemed more imposing to Leudora under the Veil's breached cover than it did in the projections: parts of it were stuck between dimensions and times, balconies drowned in a glittery mist, and its polished surface reminded Leudora of sparkly granite. She entered the Tower, pushed forward by a strange sense of awe that almost forced her to gape at every marvel of the Ancestors' technology the Alkari still preserved. The curly-haired woman proceeded up a twisted staircase, staring at the walls and diligently ignoring her.

Retracing her steps, Leudora recognized the insignia attached to the Hungarian nods on the sleeves of the woman's dolman. She had to be one of the high-ranking officers of the Alka. Ascending the steep stairs and tossing brief glances at the white walls with ornate windows, Leudora could not avoid noticing the Guardian's strained control: her reputation should have been terrifying enough to instil horror mixed with amazement. "A warm welcome," Leudora thought, not without satisfaction. Two Apostles lowered their gazes, standing in front of an old wooden door encrusted with three metal plates. Following the order of the curly-haired woman, they stepped aside, ushering Leudora in.

When Leudora entered the room, she squinted to avoid the bright light streaming from the open window. The Dalmatian Serpent stood in front of it, enveloped in flapping curtains. Pale and tall, he seemed ghostly. After a long pause, the Serpent raised his long hand, dismissing his people. They saluted and scurried away quickly, as if running for their lives. Leudora scoffed and looked around.

It was a large workspace that combined the functions of a library and a living room. Leudora stared at two old armchairs, a couch and a tea table: the Serpent's office looked nothing like a dungeon filled with dangerous chemicals. Even he had to keep up appearances when facing other Offcasts. She smiled inwardly at the thought, almost letting her guard down. Leudora regretted her careless behavior when she turned on her heel and almost bumped into Dragomir Drašković, who had somehow materialized behind her. Quickly suppressing the shiver, she stepped away, trying not to inhale the familiar scent of sandal and mint. Drašković gestured towards the armchair, offering her a seat. She nodded with cold politeness and waited for the Serpent to start the conversation.

"I see you have managed fine, Lady Galbur," he began, his voice cold and measured, "I hope your shoulder does not disturb you as much as it did."

Leudora let the remark slide: Drašković was good at implying threats, but she was not easily intimidated.

"I assure you I am perfectly fine," Leudora sneered. Drašković swept through the room, grabbing a bottle of wine from one of the bookshelves. Then he approached the table and carefully placed it in the middle beside two long crystal glasses. Leudora watched his moves with a mixture of suspicion and admiration.

"I do not drink wine, Magister," her lips twisted, forming an almost tragic smirk, "I don't suppose you keep cherry liquor around."

"I do not," he paused, his unnaturally colored eyes scrutinizing Leudora, "But I will remember to correct this omission in the future." A terrifying spark appeared in his gaze. Long spidery fingers lifted a glass, two alien eyes stared into the liquid, thin lips darkened.

"On second thought..." Leudora's hand idly reached for the glass, but Dragomir caught her wrist, squeezing it tightly, forcing Leudora to bite her lip to suppress a yelp.

"It is poisoned."

Leudora's eyebrows climbed her forehead and she stared at him.

"Is this gallant gesture a pinnacle of your hospitality, or is it a lousy assassination attempt?"

"Neither," he replied drily, lowering himself into the second armchair. "It is not meant for you, but for me. I have ensured every single Alkar is gone from this part of the Tower. Nobody will interfere."

She had always known the Serpent would go far to reach his goals. Now she knew how far he would go exactly. With a swift motion of her hand, Leudora brushed the thick fabric of his sleeve, sending electric sparkles through his shoulder and causing it to cramp. Effortlessly, she snatched the glass from his hand. Calmly, he watched her cope with the adrenaline outburst. She smashed the glass and the bottle over the wall with a shattering noise.

"Useless," Drašković said matter-of-factly, "I have already consumed an amount sufficient to stop my heart. You have noticed the cork was stuck only halfway in the bottle's throat, haven't you?"

She had, but she did not pay much attention to this little detail.

"You don't understand what you are doing..." she murmured.

"On the contrary," Drašković barely lifted an eyebrow, "The last time I saw my father he made it clear he would not sign the treaty as long as I live, and as long as the Alka stands beside me. I have a certain reputation, as you already know."

"There should be another way," Leudora whispered, desperately trying to prevent her whole body from shaking.

"There is. But I do not have the time. And you know that," Dragomir coughed, trembling slightly and then regained his composure, "No one will be surprised if the Byzantine Basilisk, who harbors infinite distaste for my family, takes her ultimate revenge on my father by poisoning me. Isn't it what you promised to your Bulgarian friends?" A questioning look pierced Leudora, conveying both defiance and superiority.

Leudora pursed her lips together, fury rising in her charcoal eyes: she was not going to play his game this time. She slapped him hard, only to see his half-smirk deepen: she left a dark-red trace on his white cheek. Blood lily poison caused one to blush strangely, revealing its deadly effects. If he had indeed ingested it, she could still force him to spit out the poison before it spread through his whole nervous system. Was a dead horned viper less dangerous than a living one? Leudora hesitated.

Dragomir seized her wrist once again, so quickly that Leudora barely had time to react. She knew she had enough power to retaliate, but decided to wait instead, feeling his long nails dig into her delicate skin.

"They will sign the treaty only if they are sure they cannot win. If I am gone and Blažetin refuses to support them, they will have no choice but to tread carefully. They will not risk starting a slaughter. Not without my inventions. The Lovrens are cowards, and Duančić is anything but reckless."

"They will hunt me down instead," Leudora whispered. The Serpent nodded gravely. Leudora watched his lips turn blue while he was struggling to breathe. She desperately tried to remember all the ways to counteract blood lily poison: Szemere had once told her that suffocation could postpone the effects of the poisoning. She felt the Serpent scrutinize her face and realized she had allowed her thoughts to slip to the surface.

"I haven't expected this reaction..." he whispered, "You cannot undo it. I made sure that we are left alone. They will forget me eventually."

Leudora twisted away before he could sway to the side and grabbed his pale throat.

"The effects of blood lily poison can be mitigated." Her fingers pressed at his artery, but he shook his head.

"You know I am right."

Leudora tightened the grip, squeezing his long neck. She knew that gravity-switchers were more resilient than other Offcasts. They could be snatched away from death's grip, they could endure. But the Serpent was strangely different from his kin – he was quicker, but he was also weaker. Pushing her away, Drašković collapsed, his gaunt figure splayed on the floor.

"Your death will not solve anything," Leudora hovered over him, biting her lips, "It will only camouflage the problem."

"They will forget me, Lady Basilisk," his lips barely moved, and his eyes of artificial green started to fade, "I don't deserve peace."

Leudora froze, staring at his blank dead face, ignoring an unfamiliar wave of energy that had reached her. When a young woman entered the room, carefully closing the door behind, Leudora barely registered her presence. She was slim, small, had thick eyebrows, black hair and haunting dark-blue eyes. And there was something decisive, something reckless about her that surprised Leudora. The woman approached her and stopped.

"You are Orjeta Myzeqari, aren't you?" Leudora asked. The woman nodded, her eyes widening.

"I cannot believe someone has pronounced my name correctly within these walls." Sighing, she crossed her arms on her chest and gestured to the side.

"I'd love to introduce myself better, but we are out of time. You need to leave. As soon as possible." Myzeqari leaned over Drašković, clicked her tongue and checked his pulse. "Only I, Kosar and Blažetin know the truth."

Leudora tilted her head, meeting Orjeta's attentive eyes.

"I am supposed to be a murderer now?" she asked bluntly.

"I don't approve of it. Doesn't matter to you, does it?"

"I can live with it" Leudora pursed her lips, staring at Orjeta.

"Probably," Orjeta sighed and shrugged, "He said he would return. And the Dalmatian Serpent does not break his promises."

"Doesn't he?" She lifted an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. Myzeqari scoffed, briefly caressed her belted scimitar and gestured to Leudora.

"Hurry up, wouldn't you?"

"It would be disappointing if the Alkari discover that I'm that easy to catch."

Leudora had her path paved in front of her, but she chose a road that even the Serpent could not have prepared for her. He wanted her to become a savior of her kin and a reminder to his. But Leudora made a different choice. "I will offer you a gift, Lord Serpent," she thought, "I will give you something that you've never had. I will twist your plan. I will become a monster and I will make you a hero. Nobody will argue. And everybody will listen. You could never make anyone love you, but I will make them love your image. You will never return. I will make sure of that. Because I will make your heroic image eclipse your true self. It will be bigger than you have ever been."

"Guardian Myzeqari, would you tell your superiors that I was the one who has spread the rumours of the Serpent's experiments with poisonous gases?" she asked Orjeta, when the Alkara dragged her to the Glider. "You could also claim that his only wish was to save the Veil. For all of us."

Myzeqari stared at her in shock.

"Why? Wouldn't even your people think less of you then?"

"They would think that I am more ruthless and dangerous than I am, yes. Probably. But they would also think that some gravity-switchers are worth their sympathy. He may yet become a true hero and a true victim."

A sly smirk appeared on Myzeqari's face. "You are even weirder than he is."

"He is not all-powerful. And he cannot change the world alone."

"If you knew the Serpent a bit better, you wouldn't think so," she chuckled bitterly. "I don't like him, frankly. Nobody does." Her smile faded when she met Leudora's intense glare.

"Then we will make sure everybody likes his image. For all our sakes."

Orjeta nodded.