Lorei Lascari crossed her spacious living room, leaving a trace of floral perfume behind and sending charming smiles to her guests. Her curvy figure in a long yellow dress floated gracefully around overpriced Art-Deco furniture, swaying from one guest to another. Not a single twitch of an eyebrow, not a single frown escaped her attentive gaze.

Lorei grabbed a glass of white wine and stopped in front of a long oval window. With a deliberate gesture, she lifted her drink and shot a delightful smile to the two men reclining on a glass table in the center of the room. She overheard them discussing Council rumors, and gossip that had been transmitted via light projectors. Neither of them mentioned anything Lorei had not already known. Her gaze wandered idly from one group of guests to another, until it came across a thin man with a long face, who sneaked past the stairs unnoticed by others. Lorei leapt forward and reached him in three quick steps.

"Aladár?" Her clear voice startled him. Not without satisfaction, she watched his annoyance melt into confusion. Swiftly she grabbed Aladár's arm, pretending to lean on it, and left the room with a splendid smile plastered on her face. As soon as they cleared the house, Lorei's expression shifted from serene pleasantry to cold discontent.

"Your sour face makes it difficult for me to recruit allies," she said, her lips twitching.

Aládar swallowed a knot in his throat and shook his head.

"People are getting killed. Something is wrong with the Veil. If the Council finds out, the blame will be ours. Organizing parties and entertaining socialites endangers us." He grimaced and proceeded into the garden. Lorei followed him, tossing her thick red-brown mane away from her neck.

"You don't understand politics, Aladár. You never have." She stopped in front of a flower bed covered with golden leaves. Aladár stared at the ground.

"I do not blame you for liking power, Lorei. Many share your aspirations. But I do not wish to get involved in your affairs. I will not fight your war against gravity-switchers. I will not push you to the Council and lift your travel ban."

"You won't," she said with barely concealed irritation. "But you care about our daughter, don't you? Ariadna deserves more than a misfit's life. She can have the world."

"So that you can have it," Aladár spat out. Lorei shrugged, assuming an air of nonchalance.

"Why not me? There are worse options."

Aladár rubbed his forehead and looked away. His haggard face turned to the setting sun, looking frayed to the point of deterioration. Beneath his eyes dark smudges showed, and the hollows of his cheekbones cut deeper than usual. A decade ago, Lorei might have felt sympathy for him. Now she barely noticed the effects of his time-mastering enhancement. She only wondered what sort of vision had caused the sudden turmoil in him.

Taking a deep breath, Lorei prepared to leave when a familiar trace of energy brushed her senses. "Hajnal? What brings you here?" she asked.

A tall slender woman with furious hazel eyes glaring behind round glasses materialized, seemingly out of nowhere. Hajnal resembled her twin-brother too much for Lorei's taste. Both had the same disheveled chestnut hair, eyes filled with mild golden glow and pointed chins. In a curious twist of fate, the similarities did not extend beyond their appearance.

Hajnal lashed out to punch her, but Lorei jumped aside in time for Aladár to grab his sister's hand. Hajnal hissed like an old-fashioned whistling kettle.

"If you ever endanger my cousins again, I swear I will strangle you!"

Lorei rolled her eyes. She had neither wish, nor patience to deal with the siblings.

"Don't be so dramatic, Hajnalka."

"They're children! Not your pawns!"

"Vince and Kornél were never in danger. Amaltheia is no maniac."

"The Basilisk was there! They told me! She could have damaged their minds!" she yelled, threatening to attract the attention of Lorei's guests. "If you want to stalk your niece, do it yourself!"

Aladár took his place behind his sister's back. "This... this is terrible!"

His condemning gaze annoyed Lorei even more than Hajnal's fiery outburst of anger. At times like this, she barely tolerated the siblings. Both could do little except manifest righteous fury. They were useless, pompous time freaks. Nothing more. Putting on a mask of calm detachment, Lorei smiled apologetically and took her leave, ignoring Hajnal's curses. All she felt was the same nagging irritation one would experience when encountering a buzzing fly. In Lorei's mind, the angrier people were, the easier they were to manipulate. Hajnal was no exception to the rule.

Aladár did not know Lorei. He thought it was power she craved, but he lacked imagination. She was born to guide others. It was what she did best. It was her path. Lorei walked forward, occupying her rightful place in the center of the room. Her yellow dress with its deep cleavage attracted attention from all sides. Power meant nothing unless she was admired. Unless she was worshipped.

When evening fell, Lorei finally remained alone in the house. Following an old addiction, she drank. Alcohol cleared her mind like nothing else did. Palinka made it easy to recall all the tiny details she could have missed or ignored during the party: "Tivadar's gaze wandered off to Vera. I wonder if she knows, or cares. She's not in this reality. And Margit... she still suffers from those headaches. Did the pain force her to leave?" Her fingers tapped the glass table. "I need to keep it all in my mind. These people will bring me back everything I have lost. And more." She leaned back in her armchair, slowly sipping her alcohol. A sudden Veil tremor startled her. Lorei frowned. She was not yet done, after all.

She had felt her sister's presence long before she arrived. Laurenția annoyed her with her short temper, crude manners and lack of taste – all the traits she had grown to despise over the years. First, she heard her slam the door. A moment later, Laurenția's loud and slow limp graced the tiles. Lorei waited patiently for her sister to appear in the doorway, reclining on the silvery handle of her walking stick. Her loose clothes concealed her disability but made her appear ganglier than she was.

"I see you had a successful party," Laurentia mumbled indistinctly, limping into the room. "I never expected to be invited, so don't bother greeting me. Your guests would not have liked me." She was not wrong. Lorei's guests would not have liked her.

Lorei clouded her thoughts, putting her glass aside. Energy impulses ran through every mind, and she was not going to let her sister acquire a glimpse of hers.

"Let's get down to business, Laure," she said. 'Business' usually meant Leudora.

"Oh, you are suspicious of me, aren't you?" Laurentia tilted her head. "That means you have something to hide."

"Why have you come?" Lorei asked. "Don't tell me you are here because new bodies are found in the sewers. If you are, don't waste your breath. I do not care unless it involves me. And it does not."

Lorei tossed an olive into her mouth and sighed, watching Laurenția fidget in her place. Awkward silence did not last long.

"Those little time-masters must have failed..." Laurenția said quietly.

Lorei responded with condescension, "What were you expecting, Laure? You begged me to send my precious informants on a fool's errand. That whim of yours has cost me an unpleasant conversation with my self-righteous sister-in-law and husband. The boys did the trick, though. In a couple of hours all Budapest will know that Amaltheia is gone. All went as planned. Now," She clasped her hands and leaned forward, "you tell me why the hell you needed all that."

Laure pressed her lips tightly together, then nodded. "You know."

Lorei sighed, her palm rubbing her forehead.

"That is a terrible strategy if you want to attract attention to our cause."

"It worked," she shrugged. "Stop spouting bilge at me. I did what serves us best!"

"You are trying to make others believe that Leudora is planning to overthrow the Council and lift the travel ban. You couldn't think of something better, could you? I have no idea what she is up to, but I swear to you, Leudora does not muster military forces in secret. Where would she do that? In her libraries behind her philosophy books? Even that 'formidable' mind of hers cannot compensate for her arrogance and lack of manners! Leudora may be a lightning-bearer, but she is also one of those purple-wearers - one of the Fasma. That's a dreadful combination."

"Being a lightning-bearer is a crime, isn't it?" Defiance lingered beneath her grumpy expression. "She's supposed to go mad and kill everyone. What if she won't?"

"Laure." Lorei's full lips formed a thin determined line, as she swayed forward. "Leudora's arrogance is a crime. I have spent years trying to make sense of the Ancestors' technology, trying to replicate it. I have rigorously studied the Veil and I had the mystery of the lightning curse within my reach. I did everything. And it was not enough. Leudora could have had all that knowledge on a platter. And she walked away."

"Ah! Leudora knows things but would not use them for your benefit!" Laurenția rolled her eyes, long fingers drumming a melody on the wall. "What a waste! She studied philosophy instead of something useful like you did. And she doesn't believe we should strive to join or emulate our Ancestors in the first place," Laurenția sneered. "Oh, and to add insult to injury, she did not attempt to steal Dragomir Drašković's research when she had a chance to do just that. She simply killed that Dalmatian Serpent and left! She did not even try to claim the power he's left behind. She could, though. Wouldn't she make a pretty dictator - our Leudora?"

"You don't understand!" Lorei whispered, exasperation weighing down her words. "Drašković might have been the only one who managed to approach the nature of our enhancements, and the Veil!" Lorei shook her head, suppressing both anger and regret. "Now that the Serpent is gone there is no other scientist who can be half the chemist he was. He would have been the death of our kin, had he lived. I know that! He is a hero to everyone. Leudora is a villain. But had Leudora stolen his research... I would have found a way to change everything! Byzantines would have led the Realm, and Leudora would not have become the villain we know."

"Poor Lorei!" Laurenția bounced back, grabbing her walking stick. "Not as good a scientist as the Dalmatian Serpent, not as remarkable a thinker as Leudora, not the heir to the family as Amaltheia. I guess, you'll have to settle for being a Councilor."

"I can live with that." There was no affection in Lorei's eyes. She prepared to rise from the armchair, when Laurenția's sudden gesture made her reconsider.

"Don't drag your daughter into this." Laurenția grabbed her arm, squeezing until it hurt. "That's our war, not Ariadna's."

"I am not at war with anyone. And I won't be. That's the only thing that Leudora and I agree upon: our enhancements don't stand a chance against gravity-switchers or light-benders. That would be suicidal."

"I'd rather die than suck up to them," Laurenția spat out. Lorei knew her sister despised her, but all she felt was light amusement. She never truly cared.

"The boys did not do much," Lorei said after a long pause. "Exactly what you have expected, is it not?"

Laurenția shrugged.

"More or less. Leudora knows you would want to keep her movements in check. I doubt she is surprised. I doubt anyone is. Leudora has survived worse during her short career as a keeper of the Fasma. I still wonder how she took down the Serpent."

"She wouldn't say. It must have been bloody." Laurenția sneered, "She is searching for allies. She must be!"

"Are you afraid she might not be happy with your warmongering, and thwart your plans?"

"Should I be?"

"Go and ask her, if you are. You want to start a war. She wants to avoid one. You're at an impasse. And I have better things to do." Lorei sighed. "I am invited to see the nephew of the Councilor Varga tomorrow. And his fine disposition matters to me more than all of Leudora's arcane plans."

"More back scratching?" Laurenția spat out with distaste. Lorei pretended not to hear her. Laurenția limped away, without even caring to say good-bye. 

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