As Van Bam stepped away, he tapped his cane against the floor and whispered a word Clara didn't catch. The cane's glass flashed green. There was a low hum and the air surrounding the mirror shimmered. The rest of the room wavered, as if veiled by water. The sound of Clara's own breathing was loud in her ears, as if she was trapped within a bubble.

Clara looked back at the mirror; she cast no reflection in its dull and faded surface.

Magic!

Van Bam had taken a seat at his desk. He sat facing the invisible door to his study, his glass cane lying on the desktop before him. The more Clara looked at this man, the more familiar he seemed: his smell, the sound of his voice, the way he cocked his head to one side ... but she had never seen him before in her life. Had she?

In that moment, Clara felt warmth inside her head and breast, as if Marney's box of secrets had cracked open a little. It reassured her that Van Bam meant her no harm, even if he was a magic-user, even if his aide had scared her half to death. Even if he did speak in riddles.

All her life Clara had heard the tales and legends of Labrys Town from before the Genii War. Back then, treasure hunters ran an illegal but booming trade. They snuck out into the Great Labyrinth and travelled through the doorways to the Houses of the Aelfir, searching for artefacts and magical relics which they could steal and smuggle back into Labrys Town. The black market had been a serious problem for the Resident and the Aelfir in the old days, as wealthy collectors would pay vast sums of money for stolen Aelfirian antiques.

There were still some denizens nowadays who liked to call themselves treasure hunters. Nobody took them seriously, not even the police; after all, even if they found a way past the boundary wall, the only place left to search for treasure was the Retrospective, from which no one returned. However, before the Genii War, treasure hunters had caused so much trouble for the Resident that a special organisation was created, a group of agents whose purpose was to counteract the illegal trade in Aelfirian artefacts, to recoup the stolen merchandise and deal harshly with those involved. These agents were the only humans permitted to use magic; their identities were kept secret, and they were known as the Relic Guild. But like so much else, the Relic Guild had disappeared after the war. No one had heard from them for decades.

Why had Van Bam mentioned it? What truth?

In his chair at the desk, the Resident shifted. 'Remember, Clara,' he said, his voice clear and insistent inside the mirror's bubble, 'make no sound. Do not move.'

With a faint click, the door appeared in the wall. It swung open, and a man stepped into the study. Through the bubble, Clara's view of him was distorted. Then the water effect shimmered and shifted, finally smoothing to allow Clara a clearer view of the room and Van Bam's visitor.

A little shorter than the Resident, the man had broad shoulders, and was dressed in simple black garb and a long brown coat. His face, though strong and not unhandsome, was heavily lined with age and sported a white goatee beard. His lips were drawn into a grim line.

Though Clara had never seen the man before, she found his face familiar. Just as with the Resident, it was almost as if she had dreamt of him.

Beneath his coat, the man had a heavy utility belt, and a handgun was strapped to his left thigh. Over his shoulder protruded the butt of a rifle that was holstered upon his back. Clara knew intuitively that this rifle had at one time been aimed at her.

'This is an unusual pleasure, Samuel,' Van Bam said, as the door closed and disappeared. 'Please, take a seat.'

Rubbing a hand through his white, close-cropped hair, the man took the chair opposite Van Bam. His expression as he stared across the desk gave nothing away.

'Can I offer you some refreshments?' Van Bam asked.

'No.' The reply was curt. Samuel looked over at the mirror, and his pale blue eyes seemed to bore straight into Clara's. 'You've had contact with Marney recently,' he said, looking back to his host. It was a statement.

'I will not deny that,' Van Bam replied.

'It concerned a girl. A whore.'

Van Bam sat back in his seat and a ghost of a smile danced on his lips. 'This girl means something to you?'

After a moment's silence, the newcomer responded. 'I was offered a bounty contract.'

'Oh?'

'For her death.'

Clara stifled a gasp. There was a bounty on her head?

'Yet your quarry eluded you?' Van Bam said.

'Marney stopped me.'

'I see. Then I suppose this girl can boast of being among the lucky few who have escaped the attentions of Old Man Sam.'

Old Man Sam ...? Clara's insides froze. It was said this bounty hunter had killed more people than anyone else alive. He was a legend, and many did not believe he still lived. But Clara was convinced she knew him from somewhere, somewhere other than his reputation.

'I am curious,' Van Bam said. 'I did not commission, or agree to, a standard bounty on this girl. Was your contract issued in the formal way, Samuel?'

Samuel shook his head. 'I'm pretty sure it was a bogus offer.'

'Then could you give me the name of the one who employed your services?'

'I was hoping you could tell me. The contract was offered by avatar.'

'Avatar?'

'Yes. It was just an image of blue light.'

Van Bam nodded slowly as if Samuel was making perfect sense.

What had Hamir told Clara? Something about Fat Jacob being visited by a blue ghost?

'I don't know how it found my hideout,' Samuel continued, 'but the avatar seemed to know all about me.'

Van Bam took a breath. 'Samuel, if you believe the avatar's bounty contract to be fake, then that begs the question of why your interest in this girl is continuing.'

'Because of promises we made.'

'Ah.' The Resident steepled his fingers and bounced them lightly upon his lips. 'Then we must speak openly. I received a message that Marney would steer a young girl in my direction. I have taken the girl in, but I have yet to discover for what reason Marney saved her.'

'She's a magicker, Van Bam. What other reason do you want?'

'What other reason indeed.'

Clara couldn't figure out if these two men liked or loathed each other, but it was obvious that neither was comfortable with this conversation.

'Tell me,' Van Bam continued. 'Where is our empathic friend now?'

'That's a good question, but it doesn't have a good answer.'

'She is in trouble?'

Samuel paused. 'The girl was bait. She was part of a trap.'

'For Marney?'

Samuel nodded.

Clara's chest fluttered. Her wolf stirred. Van Bam appeared calm and assured as he waited for his guest to reveal more. Clara held her breath.

Samuel seemed tired, weary to the bone. 'Marney was kidnapped, abducted by someone I prayed to the Timewatcher I'd never see again.' He lowered his pale eyes. 'Van Bam, it was Fabian Moor.'

Something unspoken passed between the two men. If it was fear, Clara didn't blame them. Fabian Moor was an infamous name, known throughout the town, a legend. He was a demon that had terrorised Labrys Town during the Genii War. But Fabian Moor had been killed by Gideon the Selfless, long before Clara was born. What was going on?

'You are certain it was Moor?' Van Bam said levelly.

'I couldn't be mistaken,' Samuel replied. 'I saw him with my own eyes. Marney ... she didn't even try to defend herself, Van Bam.' He rubbed his face. 'Look, there's a chance I can find her, but I need to see the girl.'

'She knows where Marney was taken?'

'Not quite ...' Old Man Sam's pale gaze turned pointedly to the mirror. 'But she knows a man who does – don't you, Clara?'