"All of them?" Balder said, taking a step back, "I can't do that."

Haco lifted his palms, "I thought we were friends? Come on, I have enough credits."

"That's where you are mistaken," Balder commented, walking back to the couch. He sat down on the pillows, and started to run his fingertips through the man's hair. "I have a reputation to uphold. I can't just give you all of them," he said simply, shrugging slightly.

"And why would that be?" Haco asked, starting to walk around the room. He walked over to a table, grabbing one of the little statues perched on the surface. It seemed to be a dragon—a monster made out of pristine white porcelain, the design intricate and detailed. It was like the stone statue could just jump to life, fire-breathing and all. I knew the stories. Kael used to love telling me about them, about those mythical creatures made up by someone millennia ago. Maybe they once lived and roamed the earth, maybe not. Dragons, faeries, mermaids... he knew all about them. He said his father used to tell him the stories, but I supposed that had also been a lie. My gut became a pit when I thought about him—I quickly redirected my attention back to the two men.

Haco started throwing the dragon from one hand to another, without ever losing Balder's gaze. The statue flew dangerously through the air, flipping, before falling into Haco's palms. Balder eyed the figure cautiously, following the dragon with his eyes.

"Because," Balder said, "I simply can't. Stripes have been trying to shut me down ever since I opened here. I keep slipping through their nets, but I can't do that forever. Those blueprints are my insurance."

"Boo-hoo," Haco mocked. He started to pick up speed, throwing the delicate porcelain dragon from one hand to another. "I know your life doesn't depend on those blueprints. You can have them copied by one of your loyal minions. I'll be nice," Haco continued, "The four richest Houses, that's all I ask."

Balder didn't answer.

Haco started counting as he threw the dragon, walking over to the fire pit. He counted every step he came closer to the pit. "One. Two. Three. Four," at the last count he grabbed the dragon by its tail, holding the statue above the flames. A smile tugged his lips as he dangled the porcelain above the fire.

"I can only give you one," Balder said, his eyes fixed on the statue. "Don't you realise how valuable that figure is?"

"Tick, tick, tick—boom." Haco dropped the dragon, and I saw it fall—but Haco quickly grabbed the statue out of the air before it smashed against the metal and scorched in the flames. "Three."

"Two, and that's my last offer. I'll lose my head."

"Deal," Haco said contently, tossing the dragon in Balder's lap. "Hand them over."

Balder exhaled, giving Haco a murderous look before turning to Trish, standing behind us. He didn't lose Haco's gaze. "Trish, give the boy two maps—but don't show him which Families they belong to. Let it be a surprise," Balder said, his eyes twinkling with triumph.

Haco glared at Balder, but still followed Trish through a door in the back. The door closed with a bang, the room quickly silencing after that, the only sound remaining the crackling of the artificial fire. Before I knew it, I was alone—with Balder.

"I was wondering," Balder started after a moment of silence, "Are you going to entrust me with your name anytime soon, or are you going by Sweetheart nowadays?"

For some reason, I wasn't as keen to give him my name. I hated the sound of the name rolling over his lips, but I sucked it up. "Sweetheart will suffice."

"Fair enough," he answered. "Please, have a seat, Sweetheart."

Haco, hurry up, I thought, gritting my teeth. I glanced at the door, hearing nothing but the fire crackling in the pit next to me. Still, I walked over to one of the large pillows which were haphazardly thrown around the fire, carefully sitting down on one of them. I kept an eye on Balder, as he leaned back against the soft pillows of the couch.

"What happened to him?" I asked, letting my eyes wander to the regg draped over the couch.

"He was so high he was bound to plummet down sooner or later," Balder answered flatly, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand. He took a quick breath before continuing, "Come on, spit it out—the question you have had burning on your lips since the moment you stepped foot in here."

Thorne.

"How do you—" I started, but he interrupted me.

"I know how to do my job. What is it? Has someone bothered you? Was it Haco? Or Vace?"

"No, neither. I have questions about someone else," I said, but glanced to the door through which Haco had disappeared. "What will it cost me?" I asked, before I managed to tangle myself in the web of debts and deceit he created wherever he went. I knew better than to trust the sketchy informant.

Before, I had been hoping that Haco would come back, but now I hoped he would stay in there for a bit longer. He would definitely stop me from doing this—but I had to. Haco would never tell me something about Thorne, especially if it had something to do with Vace. Those two were too close—I couldn't risk him blabbing to Vace, who would in turn confront me with my own questions. I knew trusting Balder wasn't a smart move, but I didn't know anyone else who would know the secrets of an Authority Captain.

"It will cost you nothing," Balder said to my surprise, "First-time clients get their first question for free—if the answer isn't too delicate, of course."

"I don't believe you."

"Sweetheart, I am a man of my word," Balder said, his voice darkening, "Ask, before I change my mind."

I bit my lip, weighing my options. I knew every second I hesitated, was another second I couldn't continue talking with Balder.

To hell with it, I thought.

"What do you know about Captain Thorne?"

Balder cocked his head, a small grin appearing on his lips. He rubbed a finger over his lip. I recognised Vace in the gesture, and I couldn't stop my thoughts from wandering to him. I couldn't believe I was doubting him—he had been the one to trust me first.

"Thorne, you say?" Balder said, "Interesting choice. I wonder, why this particular question?"

"That's none of your business."

"Spoken like a true negotiator," Balder said, shaking his head. "But, as I said, I'm a man of my word. Niyla Thorne is a special case. She got shipped from another Globe clustering quite some cycles ago, after some...unpleasant incidents. She was sent here, probably to tighten the ranks—with the looming rebellion upon us et cetera, as you must know," he gave me a look and gave me a knowing wink. "No worries sweetheart, I have no reason to share my knowledge about you to bidding parties. A rebellion is good for business."

"Go on."

"Well, she came here. When she came to power, things started to change. Patrols became more frequent, rallies more violent...fear is the most powerful weapon of all. She pushed back the rebellion, for a while. But she never truly managed to wipe them all out. Back then, I was still some punk-ass snitch in the streets, but look where I am now. I have my own empire," he said with a smug smile. "Where fear reigns, the one who dares to dream is king." He stood up when I didn't answer, walking over to the back of the room. He poured himself a drink, holding up the bottle filled with a brown liquor in a question if I wanted some. I shook my head. "Very well," he said, "Back to business. I haven't heard much of her Authorial activities, but I do know that there was a large fire in the Authority catacombs a couple of cycles ago. As far as I know she lost her protégée. After that, things became even worse than before. She became... cold—emotionless."

I kept silent, waiting for Balder to continue. He shrugged, "I won't tell any more. I have already told you a ridiculous amount. Apparently, I like you," he said, downing his drink. He twisted the glass in his hand, swirling the last drops around. "Unless you have something useful to tell me, I will call Trish back. I have other things to—"

"Thorne leads the attacks. On Outsiders," I blurted out. Stupid, stupid move. I scolded myself for being such a blabbermouth. I bit my lip to stop talking.

Balder didn't seem to notice my outburst. "Outsiders, you say? So, the stories are true," Balder said, his eyebrows raising high on his forehead. That was news to him. I hoped my brazenness would prove useful. "That is interesting indeed. How do you—"

"How isn't important. Tell me more about the fire," I said. I had the feeling it had more to it than just a simple fire.

"Well, there's not much left to tell," Balder said, "The fire raged through the catacombs, the smoke even rising to up here. This was the only time I was happy to be in the cleaners district—the central Lowers were completely filled with black smoke, which lingered for weeks. The flames had supposedly taken her trainee with it. They never found the body though—they say it was eaten by the inferno. The wings which burnt are still unused to the day. They won't let any workers in."

I wanted to ask more, but I could sense Balder wasn't happy with my prying. He seemed lost in thought, probably by my remark about Outsiders. And even if he didn't mind me, I couldn't ask more, since Haco burst through the door with Trish on his heels.

I snapped my head in their direction, so see Haco, hair tousled and two scrolls safely in his hands and Trish behind him, yelling profanities. "Don't think I am done with you, Halfblood. Wipe that smirk off your face, or I will—"

"Any difficulties, my dear Trish?" Balder asked calmly, taking in the scene before him. He leaned back against the pillows again, his glass still resting in his palm.

The pale-skinned regg woman scowled once more before clasping her hands together. "No, nothing, sir," she said, her voice even. "The payment has been fulfilled."

Haco swaggered towards me, his smirk still apparent on his face, as he held up the blueprints. "Two Houses, as promised," he said, dipping his chin slightly. "Thank you for your everlasting services," he said sarcastically, bowing deeply. "Although I can't say that much from some of your employees." He gave Trish a wink, before hooking his arm in mine. "I believe our time is up, goodbye!"

He swiftly jerked me away, and before the door slammed shut I turned my head back inside, seeing Balder raise his now-filled glass up—until we meet again.

* * *

"What happened back there?" I asked, recalling the furious Trish when they came back. I didn't have any intention of telling Haco what had happened when they were gone, so I kept the attention on his own adventures. He didn't seem to mind talking about himself—exactly what I'd expected.

"Trish just can't handle my dashing personality," Haco started, still unable to wipe the grin of his face which had lingered since we had left, "But still, I have to say: angry s..." My mind wandered off as Haco pitched his story, which I didn't necessarily want to hear.

We had circled back to the unit, where Haco laid out the blueprints of the Houses he had received: Darkloft Tower and Fairlands Residence. Haco had groaned loudly when he unrolled the scrolls, revealing the two Houses. I had already been to the Darklofts not too long ago, so that there would be another ball there would be a small chance. The map was useless—for now. So, the only other option for finding computer ports would be the Fairlands Residence. And, to be honest, I had no intention of going there. Not yet. Even though I needed to see Kael (and slap him), I was resistant on going there where I couldn't avoid him. I couldn't tell Haco I didn't want to go yet either, but with a ball in only a few days, I had to go.

"...quite frankly, I don't understand how people wouldn't want my..." Haco kept on talking, as I briefly turned back my attention to him. He had yet to noticed I wasn't listening.

he map before me was enormous, showing all the different rooms and chambers in the manor. It also displayed all the passageways, including the servant's passages and air vent networks. Knowing those would be very convenient if an escape should be necessary. I memorised the way from the ballroom to the studies of Jonah Fairlands, the Head of the Family. The studies were a blank rectangle in the map, differing greatly from the other rooms, which were detailed until the point of saying where the light switches were located. There was definitely something in those studies—even though I didn't know what.

If there was no computer port in the room, I had to find my way to the other side of the manor, to the generator converters, which would take precious time. I couldn't stay away from the ball that long—the port had to be in those studies. And then I hadn't even taken notice of the guards, which patrolled the gangways and perimeter the entire time. Luckily, the map also showed when and where there was a change of shifts. The time frame was small, but it was possible if I didn't run into any other delays. I could be in and out before anyone would notice—and if I did it just right, Kael would never even notice I had been there.