"Should be soon." I whisper to Ramon as we dismount from Loaner.

Night had already fallen and the three of us were hidden in a dark alley near the Izzak villa. The fighting with Henrik's army had gone on for almost the whole day and by now the invaders had been spent from the fruitless incursions, leaving the streets clear for our own mission. I pull out the arquebus from its harness on Loaner's saddle, hefting the bulky weapon on my shoulder. Bandoliers carrying powder and shot are fastened across my battle jacket. Rounding off my loadout tonight was the longsword strapped to my back.

No Avatar of Hackal, since I would be stupid to put my trust in something so utterly unreliable. And no Logos either. Al's warning about the Sage had raised by hackles, no matter how unconcerned I managed to act. Until I can decide what to do with those dubious treasures, they were all securely locked up in a safe at the Dasar villa. 

"What's in the backpack?" Ramon grunts as he grabs his own bit of kit, straining slightly under the weight. 

"Dynamite." I answer, keeping an eye out toward the road. So far, so good. 

"Damn!" Ramon starts and swallows nervously, "Isn't carrying so much dangerous?"

"Relax. You're packing plenty of firepower in those gun belts already." I shrug, "More than enough to blow you apart if anything goes wrong. What's a little more?"

"Why aren't you carrying some of the dynamite then, Mac?" Ramon asks dubiously. 

"Because I'm carrying this." I gesture at the arquebus, "If things go to shit, I'll be the one tangling with Morton. Its the harder job, trust me."

"Yeah, from how you described him, I don't think I can handle that fight." Ramon reluctantly agrees, "So what are we going to be doing at the villa anyway?"

"Don't know. It all hinges on what we find inside." I say uneasily, "But the dynamite is our insurance. Quick and dirty solution to anything we face."

"Just explode whatever we find you mean?" Ramon huffs, "Doesn't seem like much of a plan."

"Haven't got enough information about the villa to even begin planning." I snort, "We'll just have to deal with things as they arise."

Both of us settle into silence and before long the sound of a cannon pierces through the night. 

"THREAT DETECTED." a voice booms from the villa. 

"He's coming!" Ramon grits out nervously. 

Morton darts out of the villa, his helmet swinging back and forth, scanning the sky. Then all of a sudden Morton swings his arm in a vicious slash, sending sparks flying. The intercepted cannonball is sent flying off in another direction before crashing into the roof of some unfortunate house. 

"He just swatted aside a cannonball like a fly!" Ramon hisses, "Is this for real? Are we seeing things?"

"Its real alright." I reply grimly as the cannon sounds once more, "Get ready to move, while that monster is distracted."

This time Morton leaps to the side smoothly and performs a bicycle kick, deflecting another cannonball. As long as Al keeps firing at the villa, Morton should be too preoccupied to notice the infiltration. Ramon and I stay in the shadows, moving as stealthily as we can manage. Loaner immediately slinks off into the night, eager to distance itself from danger as always. 

"We need your horse to escape." Ramon hisses. 

"It'll be here when we need it." I reassure, thinking back to my previous experiences with Loaner. I've no idea how that horse manages it, but I've learnt to just go with the flow with Loaner's disappearing act and how it conveniently shows up again later. 

Keeping low, Ramon and I scuttle toward the wall as the crash of another cannonball slamming into the ground resounds behind us. Al didn't tell us how many shots she was going to fire, and she didn't believe my accounts of Morton. Meaning Al's probably not going to be too generous with the ammunition. Ramon and I need to hurry. 

"Hang on tight." I grunt, grabbing Ramon by the waist. Ramon nods, taking a deep breath. 

Surging my magic, I reinforce my leg muscles and take a mighty leap, sailing over the wall. Landing lightly on my feet, I release my grip on Ramon and take a glance at the now burned out bonfire. Nothing but blackened kindling left. Whatever our answers may be, they'll be in the villa, not out here. Ramon sprints for the backdoor and turns the handle. 

"Our luck's holding out." he breathes a sigh of relief as the handle turns easily. 

"How's your ass feeling?" I ask as both of us step through the open door. 

"Sore. Very sore." Ramon grimaces, "That means something is wrong right?"

"It should." I agree, casting my eyes around the interior of the villa, "So stay alert."

Both of us had entered into the villa's kitchen, and so far everything seemed normal. Shelves were spick and span, plus all the dishes were actually clean. Will wonders never cease. 

"That's odd." I comment, "There's no trash. Even though I've seen people moving in and out of the villa."

"Perhaps further inside?" Ramon suggests and both of us cautiously ingress deeper into the enemy's lair. 

The living area is well appointed, with new furniture sporting overstuffed cushions. There's a long wooden dining table, its surface polished to a shine. A shelf of pricey but relatively common porcelain figures and knick knacks serves as the centerpiece of the ensemble. 

"Tasteful, but plebian." I remark, "Nothing a relatively well off commoner shouldn't be able to afford."

"There's nothing here, Mac." Ramon calls out from one of the bedrooms, "Its just a normal house."

"Can't be." I call back, "We saw House Guard marching out of here everyday. They can't have just disappeared without a trace."

"I know that." Ramon complains as he returns to the living area, "The villa is completely clean though. There's not even any clothes in the wardrobes."

Ramon's right. The place is so neat that there's not even a trace of dust. Its unnatural, as if the whole place is a -

"Back door. Now." I urge and run to the kitchen. Grabbing the handle of the back door, I twist with all my strength. 

"Its locked." I curse as Ramon catches up. I pull hard at the door with my magic, trying to tear it off the hinges, but the door doesn't even budge. 

"Mac, I just realized something." Ramon bites his lip until it goes white, "Did you hear the cannon firing after entering the villa?"

"Of course its firing, if it wasn't Morton would have come back -" I dismiss before realizing what Ramon is talking about. 

Neither of us heard the cannon the moment we stepped inside. 

"I can't hear the night bugs either." Ramon continues as he fruitlessly pulls at the curtains drawn across the window, "Damn it!"

"What's wrong?" I give the door a hard kick. There's a thump, but the door might as well be an immovable mountain. 

"The curtains. I can't move them." Ramon responds, "And they don't feel like regular cloth either."

I reach out and feel the edge of one of the curtains. Its hard, unbendable. Like an iron shutter. Ramon and I rush to the front door, hoping against hope that something might be different. 

But encounter only disappointment. 

"Stuck!" I snap, pulling at the door in vain. 

"We're trapped in an enclosed space, Mac." Ramon sweats as he begins to panic, "All the windows have the curtains drawn. And I can't open any of them either."

"Dynamite time." I tell Ramon, "Morton might have set this place up as a trap, but we have our own cards to play. Set up the explosives by the back door."

"You got it." Ramon throws off the backpack and opens it, "Now that's a plan."

Ramon grabs a few sticks of dynamite while I begin unspooling the fuse, enough so that we can detonate the explosives from the villa's living room. Ramon works quickly, attaching the fuse to the dynamite leaning against the back door. 

"Ready?" I quip, lighting a cigarette.

"Ready." a thumbs up from my friend and the cigarette is applied to the fuse. Both of us turn away, covering our ears. 

There's a crash of thunder causes my eardrums to throb and we can feel the shockwave of the explosion even in the living room. Once the ringing in our ears dies down, Ramon and I remove our fingers and look at each other. 

"That should do it." I nod as we return to the kitchen. 

And the back door is there confronting us, completely unscathed. 

"How?" Ramon wails in disbelief as a stray thought hits me.  

"Morton's not coming." I point out, "Even after that blast."

"We couldn't hear the cannon." Ramon pulls at his ponytail in distress, "You think -"

"We're trapped in a perfectly enclosed space." I slump against the wall, "Sound can't even escape. That's why we don't hear the cannon and why Morton didn't notice the dynamite explosion."

"There has to be a way out." Ramon objects, "We even saw Morton leave of the villa to deal with the cannon fire!"

"I don't think we're in the villa." I whisper fearfully.

"That makes no sense." Ramon frowns. 

"Think. Morton rushed out into the street when he heard the cannon firing." I explain, "Can we hear the cannon firing now?"

"So ..." Ramon swallows hard. 

"So we're not in the villa." I rub my forehead, "We never were. There must be some trick to entering the place. We didn't know and instead got dumped somewhere else the moment we walked through the back door."

"A set up." Ramon sighs as he slumps down next to me. 

"Pretty much." I shut my eyes, "Morton must have known he couldn't watch the villa all the time. So this trap was put in place to deal with intruders."

"Its like the portals the trains use to cross the Beyond." Ramon pipes up hopefully, "You understand the magic behind it, Mac?" 

"Not really." I shake my head, "Just as much as you probably. Its a civil mage thing."

"Oh." Ramon deflates again before suddenly springing to his feet, "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" I pull myself up as well, "Ears are still ringing."

"Tapping." Ramon answers urgently as he strides purposefully toward one of the bathrooms, "I thought it was just my imagination, but now I'm sure."

"When did you hear this tapping?" I ask, shaking my head to clear the ringing. 

"After we detonated the dynamite." Ramon says as we enter the bathroom. And sure enough, I start to hear it as well. A regular, rhythmic tapping noise. 

"Where could it be coming from?" I wonder mystified. 

"Its sounds metallic." Ramon elaborates, "And look at the bathtub."

"Wrought iron." I confirm and examine the bathtub. It stands on four legs and is, quite thankfully, not mounted on the floor. I don't think my pride would be able to bear yet another household item resisting me. I drag the bathtub aside, scraping off some of the color from the floor tiles. 

"Wow." Ramon whispers, not quite sure what else to say. 

"Yeah. Wow." I affirm. 

A hand is jutting part way out from the bathroom floor, but there is no hole for it to emerge from. The hand has simply phased through the floor, as if it belonged to a ghost. The fingers flick about and realizing that the bathtub is no longer there, abruptly stop. The hand then clenches, with the index finger pointing up. 

"Its drawing?" Ramon leans forward. 

"Tracing in the air. Letters I think." I murmur, tracking the movements of the index finger. And soon, a word emerges. 

Hello

Ramon taps the hand and it obligingly relaxes, opening into a palm. He then begins tracing out a reply on the palm itself. 

Who are you

The hand then clenches and begins tracing in the air with renewed vigor. A name is spelled out. 

A name I recognize. 

Morgan