After we reached the third level of the city, we made our way up to the seventh, where the South Bend Inn was. The building was quite large, nestled between cobblestone alleys, with a dark green tile roof and white walls. Judging by the size, it probably housed over one hundred rooms, and the lights were on in most of them. The inn was almost full, given the sudden influx of Imen servants from the five Lords’ mansions, which meant I had to scour through the reception registry for Arrah’s name and room number.

I set Demios down on his feet and he resumed his grip on my pocket. “Don’t let go, Demios,” I whispered as we approached the inn’s front entrance.

There were many Imen and Maras out, all of them wearing looks of grief and concern on their faces. At least three hours had passed since the attack. The wounds were still fresh, and rumors buzzed around the scattered crowd. I caught snippets of various conversations, and they all revolved around who could’ve done such a horrible thing, and why. The word “daemons” came up several times, along with “It can’t be!” and “How can they be real?” The people of the city were clearly in the dark, but had a faint idea as to what was going on.

I felt Demios still tugging my pocket as we slipped past the Imen gathered in front of the entrance. We snuck through the spacious lobby and made it behind the reception desk. The Iman in charge, a young female in a simple black dress with long sleeves and brown hair caught up in a tight bun, was busy explaining the inn’s policies to an elderly couple.

She had her back to the registry—a large, leather-bound book with brownish pages. I quickly flipped through it, until I found Arrah’s name listed at the bottom.

Room forty-three.

We then went up the stairs to the second floor, and made our way down the hallway until we found room number forty-three. I glanced around, checking to see if anyone was close enough to hear us. There were several Imen at the end, coming down from the third floor, but too far away to hear us.

I knocked on the door, and, less than half a minute later, Arrah opened it. There were traces of soot on her face, and parts of her service dress had been burnt, but she was okay from what I could tell at first glance.

“Sister!” Demios’s voice erupted from my side.

Crap, no! Too soon.

Arrah was startled and looked around, visibly confused. I found Demios’s hand gripping my pocket and pulled him inside the room, shushing him in the process. Arrah yelped, then turned around, her greenish eyes wide with shock and fear.

“Arrah, don’t be scared; it’s me, Fiona,” I said gently, standing in the middle of her room. “You can’t see me yet, but I’m here, and so is your brother.”

“Wha… What?” she managed, then quickly looked over her shoulder at the hallway, and shut the door behind her, locking it for good measure. “What’s happening? Why can’t I see you? Demios?”

“I’m here, Sister,” he replied.

“We’re using an invisibility spell. It should wear off soon,” I added.

“Demios?” Arrah’s face lit up.

I felt him let go of my pocket. Arrah gasped, held her arms out, then smiled and put them around an invisible Demios. They were hugging. She burst into tears, sighing with relief as she felt her brother’s embrace.

“How… How is this possible?” she croaked, relaxing in Demios’s arms.

The spell started to wear off, revealing us with a fading shimmer. Perfect timing.

“We have some tricks up our sleeves.” I winked, as Arrah could finally see me. “As you can see, I managed to get your brother out of prison.”

They held each other, and Arrah gradually regained her composure, wiping tears and swallowing back another round. She held his face in her hands, frowning as she briefly checked his expression, his eyes, and his overall look. Demios was quiet, sporting a blank half-smile that further confirmed her suspicions.

“He’s been severely mind-bent,” she murmured, then stared at me. “They really did a number on him, didn’t they?”

“I think so. I’m sorry.” I shrugged, leaning against a wooden cabinet by the wall facing her bed. It was a simple room, with modest but sturdy furniture and a floral-patterned bedspread. “He doesn’t even remember what he did to get himself imprisoned.”

“Oh, Demios,” she breathed, shifting her focus back to her brother.

“I’m okay now. I’m with you,” he said.

She guided him over to the bed and pushed him into a seated position, then turned to face me.

“I have to get him out of here. I need to get him as far away from this city and the Maras as possible,” she said.

“Do you intend to go beyond the gorges, to the western plains, by any chance?” I asked.

“I can’t go anywhere while the daemons are out and prowling around the city.” She shook her head, giving her brother a sideways glance. Demios was quite lethargic, his shoulders down and his eyes droopy. “I’ll have to hide him somewhere in the city until we can both leave safely… though I don’t know when that will be…”

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“A couple of my father’s old friends might be able to help, yes.” She pursed her lips, running her fingers through Demios’s long hair. He closed his eyes and let himself fall back, instantly dozing off. “They’ve turned his brain into mush… It will take months, maybe years to fix him…”

“Can you fix mind-bending?” I replied, wondering how that could possibly work. I’d never heard of anyone, other than the Mara who had originally inflicted the mind-bending, being able to undo it.

“It’s not easy, but yes,” Arrah explained briefly. “It doesn’t always work, though. It’s a longshot, and it’s painful and time consuming, but it’s worth a try. My brother is a bright young Iman. He doesn’t deserve to be reduced to… this.”

I walked over to the window, checking the crowd still gathered outside. They were all restless, whispering to one another while giving the nearby Correction Officers some fearful looks. Some looked hopeful, though—as if Lord Kifo’s people really could keep them safe. All I could do in that moment was hope that the protection spell would work the second time around, and that Arrah would be able to fill in some of the gaps in our knowledge about Azure Heights and its inhabitants.

“Arrah, we’ve kept our end of the bargain, as you can see,” I said. “In fact, we’ve done a lot more. We got you your brother back. I need you to come through for us and tell us what’s going on here. You know more than you’ve told us; there’s no point denying it.”

“I’m not going to deny it,” Arrah replied, then pointed at her brother. “I need to take Demios to safety. Once he’s hidden and out of reach, I will come to you, and I will tell you everything I know. I promise!”

“Why can’t we talk now?”

“Because my brother is still here. He could be sleeping, or he could be pretending.” She shuddered. “If they mind-bent him, it means he’s susceptible to various commands, including subconsciously spying on me, or worse. He wouldn’t even know it. I can’t put you or anyone else in danger, and I have to keep him safe. So, I’ll take him somewhere in the city where no one can find him. He’ll be restrained and be given a first treatment to break the mind-bending effect he’s under. Then, and only then, will I be able to speak freely.”

Partly satisfied with the result of my endeavor to reunite Demios with his sister in exchange for information, I took a deep breath and walked over to the door.

“Arrah, please don’t let us down,” I said. “Come talk to me as soon as you get your brother to safety. I don’t want us to go into enemy territory without potentially life-saving information again. It nearly got us killed.”

Arrah gave me a brief nod, paired with a reassuring smile.

“I promise. Give me until tomorrow night,” she replied. “I’ll find him a place by then, for sure.”

“Okay,” I agreed, then unlocked the door and walked out.

The inn was bustling with people, as dozens were returning to their rooms. I took advantage of the crowded hallways and staircases, and made my way out without any curious heads turning to give me a second glance.

At least Demios was safe, and Arrah was ready to talk. I considered that fantastic progress, given the overall mess and the permanent feeling of taking three steps forward and two steps back all the time.