The thunderous strides shook the stony paved ground, they finally stopped. A troupe of uniformed dressed men blocked the street. 

Nicolai's faultless reckoning hit its mark. The city watchmen arrived even before the midday sun. 

The authentic guesthouse was the object of meticulous investigations as well as its workers were the target of intense interrogations. 

Curious eyes surveyed the whole process, whispering voices tweeted speculation about what was happening… 

Taking advantage of the gathering, pale yellow eyes blended within the crowd. Watching, monitoring the entire procedure.

This was the said location Savannah conceded to meet Mr. Hendrickson. And here the clatter encircling the place. All Mr. Hendrickson's big talk about laying low, committing to caution. She should have tossed it with the wind. The man just can't live without drawing unwanted attention. 

Dejected about getting into the guesthouse, she let the curtains drop. 

Stimulated by the operator's whip, the ox pulled calmly and slowly. The one person carriage she rode abandoned the site. 

In light of the last events, the tension between the north and the south is one step from the eruption. 

The Crocottas, forever known as supporters of the northern ruling class. Also, the winner of the Colubrine black dragon territory. This new growing influence, this rapid land expansion, set off major strife between her mother and the current Marduk of Babel. 

 Sinking teeth hard, her lower lip paled. The stress's condemnation danced on her nerves. Each passing minute considered a risk. Increasing the stake of getting discovered. Her mere unofficial presence within the city's walls will be regarded as a crime. Adding more fuel to the accumulated tension, the last thing Savannah desired. 

The shaking of the carriage seemed eternal, Savannah next stop was at one of the entertainment houses. Like a plague, they mushroomed all over the famous hanging gardens. 

The path to it felt unbelievably tedious, demanding, busied by crowds, sometimes blocked by patrolling guards. Once at the door, Savannah, wrapped in traditional male attire. A long short-sleeved dress enveloped in a blue shawl. Everyone thought of her as part of the other sex. 

Into the building, the cylinder seal in her hand expressed the status of special guests. 

An old aged woman held her hand in front of her, slightly bowed: "Well comeback, Sir." She offered to guide the way."It's been long since your last visit."

Savannah's undisturbed gaze, her extra agility, was ready for the slimmest surprise. She frequented this building. She knew this big place like the back of her hand. A small alert and she could find her way outside in a glimpse of an eye. 

In the central courtyard, she passed several young women engaged in a music learning session. Other groups participated in singing, dancing, or performing lessons. Her stern nerves influenced by the sound relaxed, the stress melted. Wasting her time worrying was meaningless. In the end, no amount of anxiety can go against the planning of fate. 

The loosen up complexions trailed after the old woman. Only stopping at her favorite room, on the third floor. 

It was a good room, neither large nor small, had a large window veiled by a big tree. 

The buzz of vibrant green leaves applied the last healing touch for Savannah altered's mood. 

As usual, taking place to the left side, before a low rectangular table. Her gaze wandered up front, to the empty stage, where courtesans performed. 

"Should we bring food?" The old woman halted at the door. 

"Yes, please." Savannah's attention strayed, strolling the room corners, unconsciously taking notes. "The usual." Then to the window, her ears focused. Unrecognizable humming reached her grasp. She judged it unharmful. "Leave the door open and send for Naya."

The woman's bowed head carried an air of pleading. "Sorry Sir, but the hostess had left the house for an errand. Sadly, she had yet to return."

"Really..." Abruptness sliced Savannah's surveying routine. "For what?... To where ?" 

"I don't know, Sir. She didn't say anything."

"Shame, I was looking to see her. I admire her singing,..." A faint smile painted her visage. Dreamily, Savannah's mind swept in the vivid tide of the lyre tunes: "Also the composed music ." 

The blessing of positive thinking brightened Savannah's temper. However, the reality returned, uninvited. This time in the shape of a horned, winged, multidimensional troublesome problem.

The old woman stepped out. Gesturing hands in the air, warning: "Go away,... Go away,... what are you doing in this place… ."

Moans of cat reached her ears.

Chopped off the sound near the room entrance. An undefined shadow morphed indefinitely before it took a specific outline. 

Inside the room, a vexed tone called: "You can come in." Savannah chugged water. Extinguishing the irritating disturbance… 

What is he doing here? 

Her relationship with Lord Shiva...

Toxic... No

Troubled... Maybe. 

Complex with a lot of pushing and pulling... Exactly, yes. 

Except this time, actually in plenty of times, she was the one at the end of the rope. 

Refusing to yield, she kept the smile wide: "How did you find me?" Unimpressed.

"Disgraceful…" The old woman slid inside. Her attitude strayed out the box of a humble servant: "I advised you to stay away from this place."

It was a very familiar voice. 

A deep sigh escaped Savannah's mouth, she poured herself another glass of water:

"Back at you," then shifted her attention to the door. "What are you doing here?" 

The old woman followed Savannah's lead and looked towards the entrance: "I guessed that this is the first place that you will visit."

Some young women carrying food and drinks passed the door. Hypnotized, the strange robotic way they walked. A strong jasmine smell surged from their direction. Nostalgic yet different.

"This is just an entertainment house, nothing more and nothing less." Savannah declared, her eyes didn't lose the passengers. 

A moment of stillness passed. Awkwardness irked the stagnated atmosphere. Under the intense gaze of the old woman, the stiffness rusted Savannah joints. She jumped to close the door. An attempt to rescue the conversation and brighten the mood. 

"Sit down, let us concentrate on our most important interest." Choosing a seat on the opposite side, she noted a massive fog disfigurement above the old woman's head: "Tell me what happened to Hendrickson?" 

The fog danced and condensed, the never-ending turbulent morphed to shape a familiar face. The head was adorned by two black horns. 

Deep down, Savannah wished that he wasn't naked this time. 

Thankfully, this time he hasn't materialized. Though, his inability to take a physical frame made her wonder.

Lord Shiva's misty manifestation collected additional details. Hair, colors, wings... Like a malicious spirit, he swam around the room. picking Savannah's back to hover above. 

Not perturbed, she was more interested in the old woman in front of her. Dark greenish color manifested beneath her peeled up skin. 

"Hendrickson?" Shiva's wings spread wide, above. "He can handle himself." 

In front of Savannah's eyes, the older woman's disguise vaporized into thin air. Only left a strange mask covering the upper part of her face.

Another malicious spirit that lacked physical shape. It was so tiny, so weak, so pitiful to the point of insignificance. What bothers the mighty Lord Shiva about them? She never fathomed the source of his problem.

 Out of familiarity, Savannah never paid much attention to those ghostly creatures. The astral nature of Crocotta continuously attracting them. However. what stimulated her hunger... 

"I know it." dripping saliva greedily stained Savannah's lower lip. "It was you." Her eyes moved, pursuing the falling silver mask, from the air, up to the table surface. "You were behind the disturbance at that guest house." Her focus was forever directed at the silver mask.

Then it disappeared.  

"Can you give it to me?" She groaned.

"No."

"Can you lend it to me?" 

"No."

"Can you sell it to me?" 

"No."

"Consider it a replacement or a compensation for the defective goggles."

"No, and I never have given, lent, or sold you a defective product." He finished with a harsh stern. "This is a piece of important evidence." Pleased, he added: "Finally, something to incriminate that woman."

"Naya?"

Proficient enough to perceive the hidden message. Savannah, unaffected by the firm refusal, reverted to the main topic: "Did you realize, at present, if something hurts Hendrickson it will reflect on me and my objective." Anyway, she should stop expecting favors from Lord Shiva. At least, until the problem of the opal-circlet gets solved. 

Shiva's complexion softened, letting Savannah pour herself a glass of water. His thin, long fingernails tapped on the translucent surface. Harmonious circles formed on the tranquil water surface. Before the revelation, Savannah sensed the upcoming… 

"You should think of some other payment to tempt Hendrickson with."

Her eyes narrowed upon the unclear declaration. Doubt clouded her face. Patiently, she watched his misty finger draw on the water's surface. An air of amusement was carried out by his composed movements. Without a wince, she waited for elaboration. 

After the refreshing thrill diluted by the waltzing mild water, Lord Shiva gave her a charmed smile: "Your mother sent you a message with me."

"Hmm." Trembling stress chilled Savannah's leisure posture, cracked her positive mood. Fear run wild inside her veins. Did her mother find out she is going to meet Hendrickson in Babel?

"She wanted me to inform you…" playfully, the misty figure stretched to confront her. face to face.

"What?" The dread cut the last thread of her patience. 

"Your… You're…" Shiva looked bashful, unable to articulate his words. His thoughts of his late humiliation of being naked in front of a young woman made his voice impeded into his throat. However, his anticipation for Savannah's reaction, the pleasure of finding out the aftermath, won over. 

" Your sister,... in a coma."

In this instant, Savannah appeared tranquil. Nothing changed at the surface. Rather it seemed calmer, quieter, serene. 

She was always like this when a consecutive series of explosions sprinted through her spine. 

Her mother's message, telling her to nullify Kanari animation, didn't arrive at a suitable moment. 

She glanced at Lord Shiva: "Do I still have time to get you back the jewelry?" Her pale face relied on every ounce of shock. 

"No," He placed the silver mask on his face. "On the contrary, my brother-in-law is here." the condensed fog took the shape of an old woman. He stood up, veiling his amusement, his pleasure. 

What is Savannah going to do? 

What she is going to choose?

A paradox of choice, life, and death stakes… A perfect meal for a high prestige Lord, like Shiva.