Three days later, just as Seishan had predicted, Gemma's lobbying secured our release. The "house arrest" was lifted without fanfare. The message was clear: we were still being watched, but apart from a warning to avoid working with Athena in the future, no other motion was taken against us.
After being released, one of the first things I did was send a message to Seishan through one of her Handmaidens. That evening, I found myself in the designated spot, a shell of a building just beyond the outer shantytown. The air was cold, and the silence was broken only by the distant sounds of the Settlement. I sat on a large chunk of fallen masonry, my thumb rubbing a slow, rhythmic circle over the warm metal of the Unshadowed Crucifix. It was a nervous habit, a tic I'd developed.
In the deepest corner of the ruin, where the moonlight didn't reach, a pool of darkness lay perfectly still. That was Sasrir. He'd taken to resting in that form when alone, a puddle of sentient shadow that was both relaxing for him and an excellent early warning system.
I heard the soft crunch of footsteps approaching. One set was light, almost silent—Seishan. But there was a second, heavier tread alongside her. My hand stilled on the Crucifix. This was a deviation. A meeting like this was meant to be deniable.
The pool of shadow in the corner rippled. A tendril of darkness detached, slithering up the wall and out a crack in the stone to observe the approach. It retracted a moment later, and Sasrir's form coalesced from the gloom, his voice a whisper only I could hear.
"She's not alone," he reported. "She brought Gemma."
My frown deepened. Gemma? This changed the calculus entirely. Bringing the Hunter primarch was either a massive show of good faith, a move to corner us, or a bit of both. I stayed seated, my posture deliberately relaxed, but every sense was on high alert. His presence would make hunting the Fallen Devil easier, but carried its own risks.
The two figures emerged from the gloom, their forms starkly different. Seishan moved with her usual eerie grace, a smile playing on her lips. Gemma, however, looked like a man marching to his own execution, his shoulders tense and his expression a thundercloud.
"Adam," Gemma grunted, stopping a few feet away. He crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping over the ruin as if expecting an ambush. "This had better be worth the risk."
"Risk?" I asked, keeping my voice mild. "I was just appreciating the moonlight. It's a peaceful night for a stroll, isn't it?"
Seishan's laugh was a soft chime. "He's delightful, isn't he, Gemma? Such a talent for finding the silver lining." She turned her cat-like eyes to me. "Our dour friend here required some… convincing. I assured him your ambitions aligned with the castle's greater stability."
Gemma's eyes narrowed at me. "Stability. That's one word for it. Seishan seems to think you two hold more than you look. She thinks you're competent. Ambitious, even." He let the word hang, a clear probe. "Ambitious people in this castle usually end up dead. Or they cause a lot of dead bodies first."
"We just want to survive, sir," I said, layering just the right amount of earnestness into my tone. "But you're right. Surviving sometimes requires more than just hiding. It requires… resources. The right tools for the job."
"Tools," Gemma repeated, his gaze flicking to the shadows where Sasrir had been. "You've got a pretty unique tool already. One that can gut a man without so much as a drop of blood getting on him. You really expect me to believe you need more?"
This was the delicate part. "Even the best tool has its limits," I said, choosing my words with care. "And some jobs are too big for one crew. No matter how… motivated."
Seishan stepped in, her voice a silken thread binding the conversation. "What my blunt colleague is trying to say is that we are… invested in your continued success. A rising tide lifts all ships, as they say. And Gunlaug's harbor has grown somewhat stagnant, has it not?"
Gemma flinched almost imperceptibly at the direct criticism, however veiled. "Watch your tongue," he muttered, but it lacked real heat. It was a performance, a necessary denial.
"Of course," Seishan purred. "We all serve at the Bright Lord's pleasure. But even a lord appreciates subjects who proactively handle pests. Without needing to be asked." She looked directly at Gemma. "It shows initiative. Reliability."
"This 'pest'," I ventured, moving the conversation forward. "It's a vicious little thing, but not invincible. I'm confident we can kill it, though without Lady Athena, it will certainly be more difficult." I let the statement hang, a subtle probe to see if they had any other surprises in store.
"Who says you're doing this without me?"