The walk back to The Brown Bar felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the echo of Kestrel's words. Corvus Sharpe sends his regards. I pushed the door open, the bell jingling a cheerful note that felt like a mockery. A name I didn't know was a threat I couldn't see. And in my world, the unseen threats are the ones that kill you.
"Arthur! You're back," Lily said, rushing over from where she was wiping down a table. Her eyes were wide with concern. "What was that about? What happened?"
I forced my shoulders to relax and offered her a small, tired smile. "It's all fine, Lily. Just a misunderstanding. The man was... confused. I cleared it up." The lie tasted like ash, but it was necessary.
She searched my face for a moment, then nodded, accepting it. "If you say so."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of forced normalcy. I poured drinks, made small talk, and polished glasses, all while my mind raced. *Corvus Sharpe.* A name, not a title. A person, not a specter. That made him dangerous in a new way. Night fell quickly, and soon the last customer stumbled out into the dark. I flipped the sign to 'Closed'.
"Go on home, Lily. I'll finish up here," I said.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. Get some rest."
Once she was gone, the bar was plunged into a deep silence. I started cleaning up, the routine motions a feeble attempt to calm the storm inside me.
A needlepoint of pressure settled between my shoulder blades.
I turned.
Kestrel stood just inside the door, which I knew I had locked. She was out of her healer's robes, dressed in simple, dark traveler's clothes. She offered no greeting, just a slow, appraising look that swept over the bar as if it were a midden heap.
"We're closed," I said, my voice carefully neutral.
"I know, I'd like a cup of the best you have."
I held her gaze for a moment, then gave a curt nod. I turned to the special keg I kept for show. "The 'Elven Moon Ale," I said, pulling a clean glass. "Twenty gold crowns."
Without a word, she brought out a single, unmarked gold coin and placed it on the bar. Then she snapped her fingers.
The air shimmered. One coin became two, then four, then a small, gleaming pile. When the light settled, twenty identical gold crowns sat neatly stacked where one had been. She calmly picked up the original and pocketed it, leaving the twenty perfect copies. "Your payment."
I stared. Mirror-Mint Transmutation. An old trick of hers, creating temporary, flawless copies of small objects. They'd last a few hours at best.
I let my jaw go slack with feigned surprise, then hardened my expression. "You're cheating me. That's fake. An illusion."
"Are you sure?" she asked, a knowing glint in her winter-sky eyes. "Why don't you check? Use your Keen Eyes"
She was baiting me, trying to get me to reveal myself.
Instead, I grunted and turned to a shelf on the back wall. I brought over a small, clunky brass machine with a slot on top and a tray on the side. "No tricks in my bar," I muttered.
I began slotting the coins in, one by one. The machine whirred and clunked, spitting each one out into the tray with a satisfying ping and a flash of green light. Legit. Of course it did; the machine was a prop. In my mind, I had already assessed them all.
All fakes. Duration: about six hours.
I returned the machine to its shelf. "Seems they're real," I said, my tone grudging. I poured the dark ale and pushed it toward her.
She took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving me. Then she placed the cup down with a sharp, final
click.
"Let's stop the games, Penance," she said, her voice flat and cold, all pretense gone. "Not only is Corvus after you, so is Director Zero. He has given me orders to bring you."
She let the words hang in the air, watching me. I didn't move.
"But," she continued, a slow, ambitious smile spreading across her lips, "I've decided to write my own orders. Why should I drag the legendary Penance back to that old fool, Director Zero, just to watch him put you in a cage? When I could instead help you slit his throat?"
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Help me become the new Director. Help me kill him. And once I'm sitting in his chair, your name will be cleansed from the Black Ledger. The bounty on your soul will be void. You will be a ghost to them, forever. No more looking over your shoulder, Penance."
I met her gaze, my face a mask of confused innocence. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I think you have me mistaken for someone else. My name isn't Penance, it's Arthur. Arthur Glass."
She choked on her ale, the liquid bursting from her lips in a spray as her chuckle erupted into a full, helpless laugh. It was a harsh, grating sound.
"Arthur *Glass*?" she finally managed, wiping a tear from her eye. "You can call yourself whatever pathetic name you want." Her smile vanished, replaced by a predator's stare. "But we both know the man behind this bar is the same one who left a trail of bodies from here to the capital. You can't wash that off."
She stood, finished her ale in one last gulp, and walked to the door.
"Think about my offer," she said without looking back. "But don't think too long. Corvus won't wait forever, and neither will I."
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the silent bar. The hum of the cooler was gone. The crackle of the hearth was gone. There was only the sound of my own heart and two names echoing in my head: Director Zero, a ghost from my past, and Corvus Sharpe, a kingpin who now knew I was alive.
The hunt was on, and I was the prize.