Heron used his mind-bending to persuade the Iman girl in charge of the South Bend Inn’s reception to tell us which room Cynara and Hera were in. We knocked on the door and were greeted by a baffled Cynara, her eyes puffy and tears still drying on her rosy cheeks.

“Hi, Cynara, I’m not sure you remember us,” I said, smiling gently. “I’m Avril, and this is Heron and Fiona.”

“Yes, I… I remember,” Cynara murmured. She frowned and avoided looking at us directly. I caught a glimpse of her sister behind her. “You were the Lords’ guests for dinner at the Broken Bow Inn.”

“And you’re here to help us,” Hera interjected, joining her sister’s side.

“That’s right,” I replied. “We’re trying to prevent last night from happening again, among other things. We’re all so sorry for your losses…”

Hera pushed the door open with a brief nod, but Cynara didn’t look happy about it. Somehow, the roles had changed. Last time, Hera had been the secretive one, protecting her sister and removing her from the situation. In all fairness, the Lords were watching during that dinner.

“Come in,” Hera said, and cleared the way for us. Cynara kept herself behind Hera, a concerned expression pulling her eyebrows closer.

We went inside, and Hera closed the door and locked it.

A couple of minutes went by in silence. I looked at Heron. He gave me a confident wink—he wanted to take control of the conversation. Hera and Cynara stayed close to each other, keeping some distance from us.

“We were wondering if you could tell us more about the Imen people,” Heron started, while Fiona and I glanced around the room.

There wasn’t much there that belonged to the girls. They’d probably lost everything in the attack. I noticed clothes on a chair and some toiletries on a dresser, but other than that, the room carried the neutral aspect of a guesthouse.

“What would you like to know?” Hera replied.

“How many Imen live outside the city?” Heron asked, his hands behind his back as he assumed a non-threatening posture. I figured he didn’t want to try mind-bending and was looking to see how much they could tell us on their own.

“To be honest, we’re not very sure.” Hera shrugged, while Cynara pulled a chair from the side and took a seat next to her. She seemed worn out, the sadness in her eyes rubbing off on me. “Our people separated thousands of years ago. We haven’t really stayed in touch with the Imen beyond the Valley of Screams.”

“Are there any records of them? The library didn’t have anything,” Heron said.

Hera and Cynara looked at each other, slightly surprised.

“Well, some of the elder Imen in the city keep archives, but nobody knows about them, especially not the Maras.” Hera nodded. “It’s a secret. Only a handful of us are aware, for that matter.”

“You managed to keep it a secret from the Maras? Why is that?” I asked.

“I… I don’t know exactly,” Hera replied. “I just know we have to keep it from them.”

Heron then looked at me, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“They’ve been mind-bent,” he said. “But the Maras never got to clear their memories about the Imen’s archives, because they had no knowledge of them existing in the first place. Call it a loophole.”

“I do have gaps in my memory.” Hera sighed, resting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Cynara’s eyes were getting droopy—yet another sign of emotional and physical exhaustion. “There are things I don’t remember, but I should. And there are things I know happened, but don’t have a single image in my head to match them to. It’s like I know of certain events… but I can’t actually remember them. Is that also mind-bending?”

“It is.” Heron nodded. “And it confirms what I’ve suspected since we first got here. The Maras have been systematically wiping your memories, replacing ideas and facts in your heads… to fit a specific narrative, I suppose.”

“But why would they do that?” Hera shrugged. “We’ve been staying here voluntarily, living and working with them. Why would they mind-bend us?”

A moment passed as we thought about possible reasons. Fiona moved farther to the back, leaning against the window frame and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you sure you’ve stayed here voluntarily?” she asked, looking at Hera and Cynara. “What do you remember about it?”

“Just what we’ve always been taught,” Hera replied. “From the day we were born, we’ve been told that the Imen and Exiled Maras live in peace. We coexist and support each other, and Azure Heights is our home.”

“Do you remember your parents telling you that, specifically?” Heron narrowed his eyes, carefully analyzing the Imen girls’ expressions. They stared blankly ahead, then at each other as the unpleasant truth set in.

“No…” Cynara breathed, then gave us a frightened look. “Does… Does this mean they’ve mind-bent us into believing that?”

“Most likely, yes.” Heron sighed. “But I suggest you put that thought away for the time being, at least until we figure out what’s going on here. It isn’t safe for you to question anything that the Maras tell you at this point.”

The girls lowered their heads, their hands resting in their laps. They seemed genuinely distraught, and I couldn’t really blame them for feeling that way. After all, their whole lives could very well be blatant lies, and they had no control over their own minds. Their memories were incomplete, and some, if not most, weren’t even theirs to begin with.

“I don’t know how we can do that.” Hera shuddered. “I’m mad… I am so angry right now… I feel so helpless.”

“And the Maras… They seem to know everything,” Cynara added. “I don’t think we can pretend.”

“What if I mind-bend you into forgetting we were ever here tonight?” Heron offered, and both Fiona and I frowned at him.

“Have they not been through enough of that?” Fiona replied.

“Well, it’s the only way for them to pass as mind-bent.” Heron shrugged. “As Maras, we are capable of detecting changes in a creature’s behavior, and right now, I can tell you that both Hera’s and Cynara’s heartrates have increased. They cannot lie to me, and they certainly won’t be able to lie to the others. If I clear their memories of this meeting altogether, they will have nothing to lie about.”

“He’s right,” Hera said, though she clearly disliked the prospect of another memory wipe. “Especially since we’ve told you about the archives. We cannot risk it. Do it.”

“Look for old Iman Lemuel,” Cynara added. “He lives on the third level; he has a small bookstore on the ground floor of his house. He’s well known to the people there, so you won’t have trouble finding his place. We know he has some ancient texts hidden somewhere in there.”

“But try visiting him in the morning, as he’s usually out during the day, and leaves his niece in charge of the library. I don’t think she knows about the archives,” Hera replied. “He likes to paint, and is always out and about, looking for the perfect landscape…”

“Thank you both.” Heron gave them a warm smile, then stepped forward, and I could see his eyes flickering gold as he mind-bent them. “You won’t remember us coming here. You won’t remember talking to us, nor will you remember the fact that you know you’re being mind-bent. My friends and I will walk out of here, and, shortly afterward, you will forget this meeting ever happened.”

The sisters nodded slowly, their pupils dilating and their expressions attaining an eerie kind of serenity, as Heron motioned for us to leave. We reached the corridor and closed the door behind us.

“I really hope they don’t get into any trouble because of us,” I murmured as we went down the stairs and left the inn behind.

“Chances are slim to none,” Heron replied. “They won’t remember anything, so there’s nothing for them to be aware or afraid of. They’ll be okay.”

Fiona stepped in front of us, bringing Heron and me to a halt.

“Let’s be smart about this,” she said, pursing her lips. “Let’s get to Lemuel’s bookstore first. Avril, you can pick up his scent from there, then take Heron with you and track the old Iman to wherever he is. There’s no point in waiting until morning.”

“I agree.” I nodded. “Time is of the essence here.”

“Besides, that way we handle Lemuel, and you get to do your fancy dinner with Vincent.” Heron grinned, and I playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

My reaction made him chuckle, and Fiona gave us a half-smile in return. She wasn’t in the best of moods, but, given everything that had happened, I wasn’t sure what to blame it on.

“You okay, Fi?” I asked softly.

“Yes, mostly,” she said. “I’m just getting more worried about the whole mind-bending thing. We’ve been so busy with the daemons and then the explosion that we haven’t had much time to properly look into this. I guess Heron and Jax were right that we can’t fully trust the Exiled Maras.”

“Honestly, I wish I was wrong,” Heron muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the inn. Lights were flickering in the windows as the evening set in, casting shades of purple and violet across the sky. “I wish they were all innocent and all we had to worry about was daemons, but… turns out we’re not that lucky.”

Indeed, we weren’t lucky at all. We’d already suspected that there was something off about the relationship between the Exiled Maras and the Imen, but only now were we finally beginning to peel away the layers of secrets over this picture-perfect city.

It wasn’t perfect at all. Imen’s minds had been repeatedly erased. Memories had been replaced with false knowledge. There was something terribly off in this city, far beyond the daemons’ recent targeting of its people.

And we were going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.