There was a guard at the estate’s entrance, but the wall surrounding the property was easily climbable with Gunnar’s abilities, and he landed on the other side in a crouch. The lawn was immaculately trimmed near the house, but the grass along the wall was long and unkempt. An obvious sign that, like most nobles of the Golden Hills, Zeda was not a major lord.

Gunnar crept along the wall for a few yards, and once he had the cover of some hedges between himself and any watching eyes, he sprinted closer to the house, stopping behind a large bush near the circle drive.

The carriage driver stood facing the entrance, and after a brief pause to ensure he’d gone unnoticed, Gunnar sprinted to another bush closer to the manor. The place was lit up in several rooms, though the curtains were drawn in most of them, so he couldn’t tell from the outside where Zeda had gone.

The traitor’s home was a different style than Dravingdel’s, more modern, with no arches or pillars or buttressed windows. But Gunnar expected there ought to be a servant’s entrance somewhere, and after some careful maneuvering between shadows and shrubbery, he made his way to the back of the manor, and found a wooden door along a narrow path coming up from the stables.

He tested the handle.

Locked.

Digging into his Inventory, Gunnar produced a set of lock picks and set to work. It was a skill he really needed to practice more—a realization that always seemed to come when he really needed to pick a lock in a bind—but there were just so many skills to grind, and he’d hardly had a down moment since he entered the game.

Gingerly, he inserted the picks. And immediately snapped them.

The sound of footsteps crunching on the soft ground jolted him. He leapt behind some shrubs lining the outside of the house and peered out.

About thirty yards from the house, a guard strode along the path from the gardens, led by a massive dog on a short leash. It had the build of a Rottweiler, and it eagerly sniffed at the ground in front of them, where the garden path connected with the stable path.

Gunnar braced himself, trying to decide what to do if they came near. A Stealth Attack wouldn’t do him any good, unless he could somehow manage to take both guard and dog out before they made any sound and alerted other guards.

Unlikely…

If he stayed where he was, the dog would smell him for sure. Could he sneak out of range another way?

He glanced behind him at the smooth brick walls of the manor. It would be a tough climb, and he would still risk being detected by sight. The moon was shrouded behind clouds, but it was still light enough out that Gunnar wasn’t even using Dark Sight.

The guard and his dog, still paused at the intersection between the two paths, gazed out toward the walls of the estate. A dark winged shadow passed overhead, and the pair bristled to attention, but still didn’t move.

Good try, Azmar, Gunnar thought.

But if Zeda had been the one behind the creature rumors, then it was doubtful his guards would be worried about some lone flying creature who couldn’t actually engage in any sort of combat.

A howl filled the night, sending shivers racing up his spine. The cry was long and piercing and sounded as though it were just on the other side of the estate wall.

The guard dog began to growl and tugged ferociously at its leash, dragging the guard toward the front entrance, leaving Gunnar alone once more.

He waited a few moments, ensuring that the guard didn’t simply rein in his dog and turn back, before coming out from his hiding place. Then, he set back to work on the servant’s entrance door.

The lock appeared to be the sort that would require a large skeleton key, which meant larger mechanisms—fewer to trigger, but more difficult to manipulate with his slender picks. Thankfully, his Nighthawk picks were stronger than his old ones. He still snapped one more in the process of testing the strength of the mechanisms, but with a more careful and steadier touch the next time, the lock sprung free with a soft clank, and Gunnar pressed the door open and slipped inside.

A long, winding hall lined with doors stretched out before him. Gunnar crept forward as softly as he could, pulling his enchanted cloak tight around his shoulders. He soon reached the open archway to the kitchen. Soft voices emanated from the inside. Gunnar couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their words had the steady cadence of a list. He could hear the soft clatter of pots and pans from within, and guessed that the voices must belong to a pair of servants readying for the next day’s meals, or perhaps managing some other supplies.

He maneuvered around the arc of light cast into the hall from the kitchen, and glanced inside. Two men stood with their backs to the entrance, leaning over a wooden table. Gunnar hurried past, treading lightly with his Stealth boots. Soon, he reached another hall, and then another, this one lined with elegant wooden panels and portraits—all old and snobby-looking nobles with a distinct posh flair.

As Gunnar strode down the next hall, he heard soft voices speaking sharply to one another.

“If you’re so… high and mighty… why didn’t you… turn me in yourself?”

It was Leilani, her voice echoing from a vast hall up ahead. Despite the weariness in her voice, she still managed a cool confidence that Gunnar envied.

“And take you straight to the Grand Master himself? On a night like this?”

“Coward,” Leilani spat.

Zeda huffed. “You, of all people, dare speak of cowardice? You will slip away from all matter of consequence in this city. While we change the world.”

So Zeda and Faraday were in on it together.

Leilani began to protest, but from the sounds of it, someone must have gagged her.

“Brutus, you stand watch,” Zeda said. “We’ll be back shortly.”

Gunnar chuckled to himself. Brutus? Some developer thinks he’s so damn clever.

Footsteps echoed up the hall, and Gunnar swiftly ducked into the nearest doorway, hoping it was vacant.

A servant’s closet.

His back brushed against brooms and mops as he squeezed in and shut the door. Not a moment too soon.

Zeda and one of the Rogues walked slowly past, muttering something that involved Faraday, though Gunnar had a hard time making out any specifics. He was pretty sure they would only be staying here at the estate until dawn.

His HUD told him that he had about two hours before daybreak in Thailen.

When the voices and footsteps had faded, Gunnar eased the closet door open and continued down the corridor. He paused once he was able to spot Brutus the guard, who was pacing near the window at the far end of the room, leaving Leilani between him and Gunnar.

Not ideal for a Stealth Attack, which was absolutely what he had to do to pull this off without bringing down the entire house on him. He had a feeling there were more Rogues around here than he’d seen come in.

What confused him most was why Leilani hadn’t magicked her way out of this situation. She was a powerful sorceress. He had felt her power over people himself. In fact, he still was not sure that he’d gotten involved with the Nighthawks entirely of his own accord. But her words seemed to have had no effect on Zeda, or any of the Rogues.

He’d seen collars in some games, which you could place around someone’s neck to stifle their access to Mana, but Leilani did not appear to be wearing anything like that. She wore an elegant white gown and glimmering jewelry, and even some tiny decorative chains strung through her hair. Her hands and feet were bound to a chair in the middle of the hall, and a strip of cloth was tied tight over her mouth.

Maybe her bindings had some sort of stifling effect on her magic.

Gunnar crept closer, remaining in the shadows at the edge of the room. The guard had lengthened his pacing pattern, crossing most of the room with each pass. Open-air staircases lined either end of the room, leading to an interior balcony directly above where he stood. It offered shadowy cover at the entrance to the room, but the moon had come out from behind the clouds now, and silver light poured in through the two story windows, illuminating the rest of the broad hall.

Naturally, Leilani’s chair was set directly in the center of that light.

Thankfully, there were several wooden pillars supporting the balcony above him, which offered a little cover. But there was no way he would be able to reach Leilani or the guard without crossing into that light.

As soon as the guard turned his back to him, Gunnar slipped from the darkness of the hall and retreated to the shadows beneath the open staircase, pressing his back against the wall.

Leilani’s eyes went wide and she turned toward him, then, catching herself, quickly turned back to face forward again.

The guard noticed her movements though, and froze, glancing at Leilani, and then, around the room, though his eyes hovered mostly at the entrances to the hall.

Gunnar was never more grateful to have his Cloak of Gathering Shadows. He could nearly feel the darkness swelling around him beneath the stairs.

The guard fixated on something up on the balcony for a moment, then, shrugged and continued his pacing.

With a sigh, Gunnar plotted his next move. He could probably get behind one of the pillars. But then, he would have to act. The guard spent about ten seconds with his back to him as he crossed the room. But Gunnar would be coming from an angle, and there was a good chance he would see him coming.

All Gunnar could do was have his Shooting Star ready, and hope a good throat shot would silence him before he could alert the others.

Gunnar took a deep breath, and was just about to make his move, when Leilani’s eyes went wide again—this time looking back at the doorway Gunnar had just come from.

Then, she began grunting and howling beneath her gag.