There was something odd about the Malluri mansion. Even from the outside Alleria could sense the tension brimming beneath the surface. The front door opened silently by a stone-faced attendant who escorted them past the foyer and down the familiar way to Mr. Malluri's study. Her parents were asked to wait outside, Alleria ventured in alone.

An overwhelming feeling of despair knocked into her as she stepped into the room. The blinds were drawn shut and in the shadowy depth of the study, Mr Malluri stood with his back to her. His shoulders hunched, his head bowed, even without seeing his face, he barely resembled himself.

"A dreadful outcome," he said, turning to face her. He looked worse than even she did, his face haggard and papery white, his voice hollow. "One of many bad outcomes, I'm afraid. My son Willum..." Mr. Malluri paused, his lips moving though he uttered no words. He ground his teeth together before trying again. "Willum has left."

"Left?" Alleria was uneasy, whatever Willum had been up to, however he was involved in all this, the fact that he left didn't bode well.

"He's moved out, went away, cut ties." Mr. Malluri stumbled into his chair, burying his face in his hands. "My son, my only son..." He looked up at Alleria, shaking his head, "And now you."

"I'm sorry." There was not much else she could say. She was sorry.

"Do you know... do you even know why I decided to sponsor you?"

Something told her she didn't really wish to know. Nevertheless, she shook her head in reply.

"It's actually..." Mr. Malluri sighed and then forced a smile. "It's actually a funny story... really, it is..." His smile became a grimace, as his shoulders shook with suppressed grief.

Alleria sat on the chair across from her patron, resting her palms on her knees as she leaned forward wearing an attentive expression. Whatever faults Mr. Malluri had, whatever his true intentions had been, he had given her something no one else would — a chance. Although she had squandered it, had failed in ways beyond imagining, she owed at least this to Mr. Malluri.

"Tell me," she said.

For a while, he was quiet, his eyes downcast, his fingers idly tapping the massive desk that stood between them. "Willum was always a very sharp boy. He took the divorce badly I'm afraid and he never seemed to have forgiven Irene for leaving... who can blame him? He rebelled. He wouldn't talk to Selma when we married. He wouldn't attend the college I designated him to. He wouldn't marry the girl."

Mr Malluri rubbed his face upon mention of the last in the list of Willum's rebellions and then he chuckled. The sound was so sudden that Alleria was taken aback for a moment. "It was over that — marriage — we had a terrible row. He's in that age where these things need some thought. You can't just go swinging that much inheritance around on a loose string." He swung his arm in the air in demonstration and then scratched his stubble-covered chin.

"After months of endless bickering, Willum stated his conditions. It would be a girl younger than him, smart enough to be accepted into the High Academy, from common background and she had to be pretty or at least palpable to the eye."

Alleria's lips parted and Mr. Malluri started laughing at her shocked expression, "He had no idea... that boy....He's stubborn, aha, very stubborn, but he underestimated his parents. Irene and I made a terrible couple, but both of us together can make the impossible true when sufficiently motivated — and our son's future, what could be a greater motivation? You should have seen Willum's face when I told him. An impossible girl like that actually did exist, and you would have made it, too..."

Click and click, the pieces came together. "It was Willum? The subjects?"

Mr. Malluri grew serious again, sighing for the hundredth time. "It was."

"And the Church?"

He gave her a long and intense look. "It wasn't." Alleria couldn't hide her skepticism. She was angry, she believed someone had been behind it all and it suddenly made sense it was Willum. Hadn't he delivered her straight into the exorcist's awaiting hands?

"He's in danger from the Church himself." Mr Malluri shot up to his feet, clutching his head. "If they find him, he'll be given an even worse treatment than you've received. My son is..." He couldn't seem to complete the sentence, his shoulders growing lax.

"The witch? The one they're after?" Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. How did Willum make her get out of the car back then? What had he done? Her memories of that night were blurry enough, but the part Willum played in it was the hardest of all to recall.

Mr Malluri's jaw slackened, he was about to answer but a sudden hammering at the study door made them both start. Zalee barged into the study wearing a lime-coloured blouse and a long green skirt that ended above her calves. "Alleria has to leave, now," she informed Mr Malluri. "Someone's here and they look official. I told you it would be a mistake bringing her here, it didn't take them ten minutes to break our spell."

Alleria rose to her feet. Her benefactor could have turned her in, he could have withdrawn his support of her. But instead, he had paid for her hospital bills, had arranged the move out of Callivar and hid her trail from the Church.

Now she knew why.

"Thank you, Mr. Malluri, for everything," she said, her voice trembling slightly as often happened with words that came from the heart. He nodded in reply but remained sadly silent as she left the study escorted by Zalee.

"You work for Irene?" Alleria asked her as they marched down the corridor to where her parents were waiting.

"We operate together, along with many others. But keep in mind, baby, Irene and I sometimes don't see eye to eye."

Zalee pushed something small, smooth and round into Alleria's hand. She opened her palm to find an amber-coloured pill. "A precaution," Zalee said in muted tones. "Just in case..."

Doubtlessly, the pill contained a potent poison that would act fast and force her demon to emerge to save her. Alleria had many questions about her existence, but she had not quite recovered yet from the first experience of being Ulundine.

She tucked the pill into the pocket of her cardigan.

Her parents both jumped to their feet the moment Alleria opened the sitting room door. Not for the first time she wondered; in the days she had been in the hospital, where had they been? What was their side of the story? What weren't they telling her?

But just as they refrained from asking her about her side of things, it was somehow hard to bring it up.

"We have to leave," Alleria said.

"Right." Da pursed his lips and led the way. Through the front door and down the marble stairwell, they walked a tight and tense group towards the car. There was some commotion happening in the drive-way, as several of Mr. Malluri's attendants flanked someone Alleria couldn't see.

"This is highly unnecessary!" the man the attendants were detaining shouted. "I would only like to ask Mr. Malluri of the whereabouts of Miss Alleria Bellencreek so I could deliver this message."

"There is no Bellencreek here," Alleria heard one of the attendants say as Zalee ushered them towards the car.

"I didn't say she was here. But Mr. Malluri must know —"

"He doesn't," the attendant cut him off.

Da opened the car door for Alleria, she began to edge onto the seat when she noticed a flash of colour from the corner of her eye. Half-crouched, she suddenly saw who the attendants were speaking with. It was a man in a ridiculous outfit of red, gold and white. The man's legs seemed thin in the tight white leggings, the red trousers of his suit ended just above his knees and sported puffed pockets decorated with gold thread and golden buttons. His jacket was equally elaborate, red and gleaming gold. At his shoulders, his sleeved were puffed to be as large as his head. A triangular hat decorated with a plume of red and gold feathers and jewelled buckled shoes were the finishing touches to his outfit.

This, Alleria recognised at once, we an imperial courier.

Only in the most important occasions would an imperial courier be dispatched. Unless this was an announcement of war, there was only one possible option.

She walked away from the car as if in a dream, Zalee and her parents called after her, but she didn't pay them any heed. She pushed through the ring of attendants, and stood as tall as she could before the courier.

"I'm Alleria Bellencreek," she said.

The courier took her in, a young, skinny girl with a bandaged throat. There were still bruises on her face and arms. Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes were like bottomless pits with dark circles underneath them. She probably looked sickly and mad.

"You're...?" the courier began. A single eyebrow shot up in confusion, he pulled out a note and a photograph from one of his pockets. "Five feet and nine inches," he read out. "Brown hair.  Brown eyes. Female. Sixteen of age.... my, sixteen?" He quirked a curious eyebrow at her before clearing his throat and pulling a scroll from one of the many pockets in his shining jacket.

"Miss Alleria Bellencreek?" he called in a formal tone, his voice ringing and rolling through the air. Everyone seemed to stand to attention when the imperial courier began to deliver his message.

"Aye?" Alleria said. From somewhere behind her, she heard how the mansion's front door was thrown open and someone came running down the stairs.

The courier appeared to be satisfied, he took a step back and, standing with his feet slightly apart, broke the wax seal on the scroll, clearing his throat.

"In adherence to imperial proclamation sixty-five-thousand-five-hundred-forty-three:

"Whereas any participant in the official imperial admittance examinations for the High Academy of Scholars will be granted equal opportunity to demonstrate academic prowess and will be evaluated according to their performance alone.

"Whereas any subject of His imperial grace, Emperor Tarris, first of his name, who has been found worthy after participating in the official imperial admittance examinations for the High Academy of Scholars must, in accordance with imperial law seventy-eight-hundred-forty-nine, put forth his or her life in service of the imperial Bureaucracy and the citizens of the empire.

"We therefore announce that Miss Alleria Bellencreek, daughter of Hendry Bellencreek, imperial Hand, has been allocated a place within the High Academy of Scholars. As determined by the results of the official imperial examinations that took place on the week of the twelfth of May in the nineteenth year to reign of his imperial excellence Emperor Tarris, first of his name, Miss Alleria Bellencreek ranked fifth, numbering her last among the Paramount.

Therefore, Miss Alleria Bellencreek is cordially invited to stand in attendance with the exalted Emperor Tarris, first of his name, on June fourteenth in the nineteenth year to His reign.

"Henceforth failure to be present before His imperial grace on the appointed date will place Miss Alleria Bellencreek under the risk of swift and severe punishment.

"Signed, Lord Bailey Sanstun, Chairman of the Board of Scholars

"Signed, Mr. Maddox Barnel, imperial Grand Vizier

"Signed, Emperor Tarris the Thelverain, First of His Name, Supreme ruler of the Mighty Empire of Varrenan, Holder of the Eight Truths and Five Arts, Bearer of the holy Light of Leccerot, Blessed of the Owl-God."

Once the courier completed his announcement, the entryway of the Malluri mansion was filled with breathless silence. Finally, a chuckle cut through the shock in Alleria's mind. She glanced behind her to find Mr. Malluri shaking with silent laughter and resting his palms upon his knees.

Her attention was snatched back to the courier as he handed her the scroll and took a step back, bowing with a flourish of streaming white sleeve-cuffs. Her eyes scanned the letter several times before she finally focused on the last signature. She was familiar with the emperor's handwriting, her parents were imperial Hands and as such wrote in it daily — but this was the real thing, the emperor himself had signed this document.

Her knees buckled and she sat down heavily on the grey brick floor. She was 5th Paramount, she was a Scholar, she had made it into the High Academy.

It didn't feel real.

"June 14th?" she wonderedout loud, "isn't that in three days?"