Drifter saw guards ascending the stairs on either side of his execution platform. He had missed the signal for him to be recaptured, somehow, but it was no matter. The seeds were planted for the Braven family's fall, which in the long run would improve the well-being and safety of its people. The itch in his brain was settled. His next job would be to spring his friend from prison.

  To his right seven guards blocked his path - including Captain Patricia Shorn, her tired eyes unchanged from her time serving as multiple lieutenants but her short hair much more gray. Drifter had never met her, but his memories now contained her nonetheless. He started walking towards the guards and formed a fist at the same time that they readied their swords and spears. They were expecting a fight, so they were not ready when Drifter twisted his body and threw a punch at the air - through the air, really, as the guards were knocked off their feet by the wind his fist generated.

  He sprinted past the guards as they scrambled too their feet and jumped off the rear of the platform. Shouts from the Regent and the other guards followed Drifter as he turned down an alley and navigated his way through to the prison I was held in.

  The captains guessed where Drifter was heading and ordered their men to follow, but they had no chance of catching up. They split their forces to block off the gates along with some other quieter exits they were aware of. If we were to leave they intended to make it a fight.

  Drifter's timing on approaching the prison was impeccable. He was anticipating that he would need to break down doors and walls and fight through a horde of guardsmen to free me. Instead, I was just walking out the front door.

  After I recorded the story of Henry Noman the guard for my cell block asked who I was, and who Drifter was. He seemed awestruck by whatever we all had just experienced. I introduced myself as Virilus Legafil, scholar of Docet Barrington, and gave him the very brief version of how Drifter and I had met and ended up in Beorne.

  The guard considered for a moment, then pulled out his keys and unlocked my cell door. "Call it a hunch, but I'm pretty sure everyone will be better off if you get out of here."

  "Why?" I questioned, genuinely unsure what threat I could pose.

  He pointed at the window of my cell, saying "Do you think your friend is going to lie down and take his execution at this point? I'm pretty sure he or a horde of people looking to trap him will be here shortly, and either way it's a huge mess for me if you're still in your cell."

  The blatant corruption simply to avoid doing his job was commendable, in a way. I thanked him and left, running into Drifter just outside the prison.

  We were surprised to see each other right then, but it only stalled us for a moment. I gestured for Drifter to follow me, then led him through back alleys and down quiet streets until we reached an odd building at the edge of the inner city, just half a block from the wall. It was three stories tall - normal for most of the district, but large for this neighbourhood - and had curtains covering its numerous window. While most of the buildings were of white stone framed with wood, this one was of a red brick construction more common further south.

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  The advantage of the different material was small but notable for the current purpose of the building: it dampened sound incredibly well.

  Orwyn's bodyguard Borin opened the front door and hurried us inside, murmuring to us to keep quiet. Once the door was closed the interior fell into total darkness, but he slapped a panel on the wall and a series of lamps lit up with the blue glow of a magical lighting circuit.

  The entryway of the house was a simple hallway leading to a staircase, complete with a few exits to the sides leading to sitting areas and a kitchen. The second and third floors had a similar core hallway, except the rooms had closed doors for sleep. Borin led us to the top floor and into a room at the end of the hallway.

  Borin already had the lights on in this room because he already had a guest - Olivia, the de-facto leader of the Blood God Bandits. She raised an eyebrow as we walked in, and I did the same to her, but we said nothing until Borin pressed another panel on the wall. While the sounds of the outside world were muted in the building, they were entirely silenced once he hit that button. "Now you can talk."

  I was impressed. It was like a safe house out of an espionage novel. A desk in the corner of the room, a couple of beds, a few small containers with weapons, magic stones, and preserved foods. It wasn't as fancy as the magic circuits letting us navigate our fancy inn, but it was a practical room augmented by magic to perfection. I had to ask: "How did something like this get built?"

  "The original building is pretty old," Olivia answered, "I don't know who built it, but it was used by nobles and merchants trying to do some quiet activities back in the day." She knocked on the wall, the impact absorbed into an ethereal ripple just off the surface. "It was upgraded with the magic stuff a decade or so back by some associates of the late Regent. It's too obvious to use as an actual safe house for illicit activities, the guards know it pretty well, but it has a couple of other tricks that should help."

  "So we're not safe here?"

  Borin shook his head. "I think you lost them well enough somehow, but not for long. There are only a couple of ways out of the inner city other than the gates so they'll be checking soon." He pulled a couple changes of clothes out of a bin and tossed them to Drifter and I. "Get changed. We leave in five.