Danica Horanská woke up chained to a metal bar with her wrist dangling in a rusty handcuff. She struggled to feel the darkness, fumbling for a door. Danica swung forward, but a terrible headache pinned her to the floor as soon as she tried to move her numb limbs. Darkness choked life from her. Eventually she would succumb to it, despite her resistance. Steadying her heartbeat, she forced the light within her body to resurface and glow through her skin. Danica realized the peril of her captivity all too well: a light-bender left in the darkness for more than a couple of days was doomed. "They think they can drain me... Sweet," she scoffed into the black abyss surrounding her. "I am not done. Oh, you just wait."

Through the gentle glitter of her hands she saw the damp walls of the cellar covered with mold and moss, bags with cables scattered around and a large metal table. The next discovery was frightening: her golden scarf was missing, her jacket and her once presentable velvet trousers were all torn and stained with blood and dirt. Danica had never cared much for her looks, but whoever had taken her scarf was going to pay dearly.

The stinging pain in her forehead clouded her thoughts. If Rinari's spies wanted her dead, they would have already killed her. Somehow she was still alive. She remembered the stranger who had offered her his help and regretted she had rejected the deal. She should have known better. She had overestimated her own abilities, and now she was paying the price. Just like her father. Danica had never considered her father anything more than a useless alcoholic. Was he also a murderer? The discovery did not shatter her opinion of him as much as she had hoped it would.

Distant footsteps sent shivers through her tired body. She propped herself on her elbows, preparing for the inevitable. A heavy iron door squeaked, sending dim rays into the cellar, filling Danica's light-hungry being with awe profound as prayer.

Three silhouettes appeared in the doorway, and Danica struggled to discern their features. Her ears served her better than her eyes: she recognized the smooth high-pitched voice immediately. Its hypnotizing notes were unmistakable: only Arta Rinari spoke with such deliberate sweetness.

"I told them not to hurt her," she said, turning to her companion. "Vaclav obviously did not take my order to heart. Are you the only one whom I can trust with these matters, Ilir?" Arta Rinari towered over Danica and smiled, clad in a purple dress with silk gloves.

"What do you want?" What else could Danica ask the head of the Spy Guild? She preferred to come off as angry rather than weak.

"Your cooperation." A short black-haired man with dusky skin stepped forward. "My aunt has no intention of making you suffer."

Danica winced. So that was the infamous 'nephew' then. Fine.

"I can be very kind and considerate." Those wild eyes showed none of the promised kindness.

"Then you could apologize, return me my scarf and let me go."

Danica's brown eyes flashed her an angry glare. Arta's finely sculpted lips formed a straight line that broke into a spiteful grin. Then she leaned over her, long straight hair brushing Danica's cheeks.

"I would like nothing more... But," she moved away, "certain formalities must be observed. Certain things must be fixed."

"I don't think I can fix anything."

"Don't be shy! You are excellent at fixing things." A chilling stare and an empty laugh hypnotized Danica. "You see, pani Horanská, your recent escape from Chlápková with the help of that... stranger... made me wonder if there's more to you than you let on."

Was it all because of her bragging during the hearing? An instant chill descended over Danica when she realized that her tinkering with the Ancestors technology and her persistent swagger could come at a high price.

"I can't let you go," Arta said. "You will try to pull off something to save your treacherous father. Can you promise me you would not interfere with Dalibor Horanský's execution?"

"You want to kill my father... and you expect me not to interfere?" Danica could not believe Arta Rinari was serious.

"Yes."

"Are you insane?"

"I thought you'd say something like that," she sighed. Her nephew stepped forward and shook his head.

"Arta!"

"Hm?"

"You can't deprive her of light. She'll die without it." He dipped his head slightly, as if remembering to pay his respects.

"Bring in a lamp then. Didn't know you were so kind-hearted." Arta shrugged. Her dark eyes strolled away from her nephew to Danica. "What would you say, pani Horanská?"

Danica balled her fists and grimaced.

"Has someone ever told you you're nuts? Or am I the first one to open your eyes?"

"Tsk tsk," she clicked her tongue, "Pity that you don't appreciate my generous proposal."

She left, shaking her head and exchanging glances with her nephew. Danica spat to the floor, cursing herself for being unable to choke Arta to death and crawl out of the dark cellar. With a corner of her eye, she saw Rinari's nephew turn around to look at her. "What is his deal?" Danica wondered.

According to Danica's vague estimations, it took her two days to lose almost all remaining physical strength and start to hallucinate without light. In her blurry visions, she saw her father and Ariadna die. To her terror, she felt almost nothing. She probably did love him a long time ago, but her mother's death had erased the memory of that feeling. As far as she could recall, Dalibor never cared about her. She wished she could despise him, but she never succeeded. Was she finally losing her mind? Was it the end?

Icy cold tickled her skin, biting her bones. Someone poured cold water over her face, forcing her to shriek. It took Danica considerable effort to open her heavy eyelids. She did not hide her surprise and disappointment at the sight of a familiar face: Ilir returned to release her for reasons she could not comprehend. She shook her hands, still feeling the bruise left by the handcuff and rubbed her numb wrist. She wanted to say something but growled instead. Silently, Ilir redirected a light beam towards her. Danica inhaled deeply, feeling like a depleted engine returning to life and starting to rumble.

"I don't approve of my aunt's methods, but I respect her," he said. If Ilir felt a need to justify his actions, his choice of words left much to be desired. Danica winced.

"Is this what you keep telling yourself, working as her pet assassin?"

"Yes." He shrugged. "I don't like pointless deaths. And I don't kill my people."

"I count as 'your people' then, I suppose..."

"You are a light-bender," he said, measuring her from head to toe. She leaned on the damp wall, staring at the lamp light.

"I am letting you go," he said. Danica frowned.

"Aren't you afraid of your aunt?"

"No. I'm not breaking any vows."

"How noble of you! Wow!" Danica rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling all her weight on one numb leg. He ignored her bitter comment.

"A Polish friend of yours told me that you are smart and inventive," he said. Jan? Danica's eyes lit up. Ilir's words could only mean Jan remembered her and knew she was alive. He could have postponed her father's execution.

"My father...?" Danica was afraid to ask.

"Dead," he said with grim finality and turned away. "There are tools in this cellar you may find useful. If you are truly as resourceful as your Polish friend claims you are, you will find your way out."

"Did Rinari kill my father?" Danica asked, grabbing his hand. Ilir did not flinch.

"I did. He brought it on himself when he agreed to kill his own people."

"What?" Danica recoiled, her eyes widening. When she lunged forward to strike him, he only grabbed her wrists and stared at her.

"If I were you, I'd forget I had relatives and friends. Get yourself a new life. Go to the East, perhaps. You'll find credit cards here." With his foot, he pushed a small black bag toward her. "Your scarf is in the back pocket."

"What happened to my father?!" she shouted. Ilir sighed and released her throbbing wrists.

"His victims were my apprentices, and his colleagues. He betrayed them and sided with Chlápková. I killed him."

"My father never stood a chance against you!" Danica objected, hatred rising in her chest and impairing her breathing. To her shock, Ilir nodded with tragic acceptance.

"You're right. And you can kill me later if you want. Now I need to return to Arta and tell her I've given you these things."

"Why?" Danica's voice trembled.

"She deserves to know. She is my family. As Dalibor was yours." Ilir walked away slowly, leaving her soaking wet on the floor with a tiny lamp, a black bag and a flaming hatred that seared her soul. Danica was going to survive. A dangerous grin appeared on her lips: "I am getting out of here. Then I'll bring down your whole Guild. And I will do it my way. I will become the greatest engineer to ever walk beneath the Veil! I will destroy you!"