During his first morning in Gallontea, Leandros was ambushed. This was not incongruous with the rest of the trip so far–the same ad happened on his way to his hotel yesterday, then again when he’d tried to go out for dinner. Disappearing for sixty years and suddenly reappearing under the most dramatic circumstances possible apparently made one something of a celebrity. While Leandros could handle reporters, he couldn’t handle them knowing where he slept, and this one had lain in wait for him in his hotel lobby. Leandros had taken one look at him, a plucky, precocious sort of boy with brownish hair and bright eyes, and walked in the other direction.

“Wait!” the boy called, running after Leandros. “You’re Leandros Nochdvor, aren’t you?”

The lobby was far from empty, and many curious eyes turned their way at Leandros’ name. Leandros ducked his head and kept walking. When the boy followed him out, he asked, “How did you find me?”

“I’m good at learning secrets,” the boy said. “I have a message from the Oracle.”

Leandros stopped abruptly, making the boy crash into his back. “Devikra? I haven’t heard from her since…” Since Histrios. He cleared his throat. “Walk with me. Tell me everything.”

By the time he reached Unity’s island, Leandros was in a bad mood. Anyone would be, after they’d had dire prophecies dumped on them and then been asked about their worst failure over and over. Leandros had quickly realized that Aleksir Bardon was worse than a reporter: he was a fanboy. He’d apparently decided that he would single-handedly get to the bottom of Histrios, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. In the end, Leandros managed to shake him off at Unity bridge, and only because he’d sicced Unity’s security on the kid like glorified bouncers.

Then there was a press conference with the Magistrates, which soured his mood further. He was clearly there as an ornament only, the Magistrates spending the entire conference reassuring reporters while managing not to give out a single detail of their plan. By the time Leandros reached the site of his next meeting, a half-timbered house in a quiet Gallontean neighborhood, he was tired enough for another sixty years of seclusion.

“Are you lost?” a quiet voice asked, when he lingered too long at the foot of the winding drive.

Standing in the street behind Leandros was a short woman with bright red hair. When she saw his face, her eyebrows twitched, but she quickly schooled her expression behind a cold smile. “Unless you’re Prince Leandros Nochdvor,” she continued, “In which case, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

When she spoke, Leandros glimpsed sharp canines and a feather-like texture webbed across her pale skin. She was maranet, the longest-lived of the human races. Given the gray streaks around her temples and the faint lines around her eyes, she must have been Amos’ age.

“You have the advantage of me. You know my name, but I don’t know yours,” Leandros said.

Her smile eased – Leandros still couldn’t call it friendly, but it was at least polite. “Evelyne Corscia,” she said with a bow, one leg forward in the formal Alfheimr style. Surprised at the courtesy, Leandros bowed back. When Evelyne straightened, she said, “I’ll be your Head of Security for the trip to Orean.”

“Pleasure,” Leandros said, eyeing her. She wore a sword a her back and a gun at her hip; excessive, for the city’s customs. It was generally one or the other. She seemed, to Leandros, a contradiction: she was scarred and armed, but more than that, there was a detachment behind her deep-set eyes that unsettled him. At the same time, her voice was so gentle. He had a strange feeling about her, and he had to ask: “Do you work for Unity?”

“Technically, yes,” she replied. “We should go in, my Lord. Mr. Ochoa will wonder what’s keeping us.”

Leandros watched her start up the drive, blinking against the bright sunslight that crested the rooftops. Their destination stood alone on a slope, flowers and tall grasses spreading from its foundation all the way to the property’s borders, and when Evelyne neared the front door, a head suddenly peeked over the second-story balcony railing. Leandros hadn’t noticed the dryad up there until he moved, his mossy head of hair blending seamlessly in among the potted flowers he was tending. “Good morning, Evelyne!” he called down. “And you must be Prince Nochdvor! Come inside, let yourselves in. I’ll be right down to meet you!”

Evelyne didn’t hesitate at the invitation. She held the door for Leandros, who had no choice but to step inside first. He was barely in before the dryad was breezing down the stairwell, stopping before him in a flurry. “Prince Nochdvor, it’s such an honor! I hope you had no trouble finding the place. I asked for accommodations on the island, of course, but what with the press conference and the news about the abduction hitting the papers this morning, the Magistrates suggested we meet somewhere quieter. The island’s bound to be crawling with reporters,” he gushed, barely pausing to breathe. “My name is Eresh Ochoa, by the by. I’ll be your Unity Coordinator for the foreseeable future.”

When he held his hand out for Leandros to shake, Leandros blinked at him, then down at his hand, and at the last moment, Eresh snatched it back. “Oh! You don’t do handshakes in Alfheimr, right? Something about it being too intimate, wasn’t it? I’m terribly sorry if I caused offense.”

“You didn’t,” Leandros assured him.

“That’s a relief. I really am a fan of you – your work,” Eresh said. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Please, follow me.”

Eresh led Leandros and Evelyne through the narrow hallways to a sitting room. The south-facing windows worked like a greenhouse, making the room hot and humid — better for the strange flowers and trailing vines that grew along the trellised walls. At the center of the room, instead of sofas, plush floor cushions circled a low table. It was covered in stacks of folders and papers, and Eresh immediately sat to sort through them.

Leandros nodded at the flowers. “You have quite the collection.”

Eresh straightened like a flower given water. “Kind of you to notice. I was born in Lyryma forest, you know, though I left when I was still a young thing. Most of the specimen you see here are from Home. They’re difficult to maintain in this climate, but I can be quite stubborn about getting my way.”

“No one who’s known you even five minutes could doubt that, Eresh,” Evelyne said.

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment, Evelyne,” said Eresh. The pair’s informal use of given names didn’t escape Leandros. “I have paperwork for you both. The others might come to get theirs as well, but I don’t expect they’ll stay long. I mostly thought we three should talk.”

When Eresh passed Leandros the thickest of the folders, he started paging through it. “What others?” he asked.

“Our other teammates, of course! Unity’s already got half the team filled. Fast, aren’t they?”

“Faster than I’d expected,” Leandros admitted. He wondered what had changed since yesterday, to make the Magistrates suddenly so keen on this mission.

When a maid passed by the doorway, Eresh waved her down. “Mary, if anyone comes to the door, will you show them in? Would either of you like wine? I can have Mary fetch some.”

“No, thank you,” Leandros said, claiming an empty cushion across from Eresh. Evelyne stayed standing.

“Suit yourself. Aren’t they comfortable?” Eresh asked, missing the awkward way Leandros had to fold his long legs around the table in order to fit. “I once had the privilege of being admitted to the Oracle of Damael’s drawing room, and it was full of cushions just like these. I told myself I’d have nothing else, from then on.”

And just like that, at that name, Leandros’ mood soured again. “The Oracle? An honor indeed,” he said dryly.

“Quite so,” Eresh agreed, not noticing Leandros’ tone. Behind Eresh, Evelyne raised an eyebrow at Leandros, her expression otherwise eerily blank. Leandros refused to meet her eye, grateful when Eresh continued: “I suppose we should get on to business. My job for the next few weeks, Prince Nochdvor—or should I say Captain—is to handle the menial tasks associated with travel so that you are free to focus on bringing your uncle home. Leave the supplies, arrangements, and logistics to me. Inside your folder, you’ll find Unity’s code of conduct, safety protocols, budget breakdowns, and information on our known teammates. We’ll be a small team, with five diplomats–including you and I–and a five-person security team led by Evelyne.”

Leandros frowned at that, the expression stopping Eresh just as he drew in a breath to continue. “That many?” he asked. “Fifty percent of the team being designated security seems excessive for a diplomatic mission.”

“You’re a very important person, Prince Nochdvor,” Eresh said. “Your safety on this mission is Unity’s top priority.”

Leandros snorted. Flattering, but he didn’t believe it. Out of curiosity, he flipped to Evelyne’s entry in the folder and found it practically empty. The next security member’s entry was the same. It listed a name, an age, a brief rundown of skills, and that was all. Compared to the diplomats’ entries, which were several pages long each, full of experience and references, the difference was telling. Keeping his expression neutral, he said, “Unity’s top priority should be rescuing the missing King. Relative to that, I mean little, and I’m more than capable of fending for myself.”

Eresh shot Evelyne an uncertain look. “Well,” he said, “We’ll also have the brother of a Unity Magistrate on the team. I can only assume Unity is being cautious for both your sakes, but I can assure you, Lord Nochdvor, that Evelyne and her team are the very best Unity has to offer.”

“That, I don’t doubt,” Leandros said, looking up at the woman in question. She met his gaze evenly, almost in challenge. Two things were clear: that Unity had selected Evelyne and her team for a reason, and that they were hiding that reason from Leandros. He asked, “How long have you been doing this sort of thing, Ms. Corscia?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive, my Lord,” Evelyne said evenly. Even with Leandros’ experience dealing with rigid alfar, he couldn’t read her at all.

“Are swords your weapon of choice?” he asked.

“I suppose.”

“Did you train formally? What was the name of the school?”

“It closed over a century ago, I’m afraid.”

Leandros smiled pleasantly. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t heard of it. Come, what’s the name?”

While Evelyne and Leandros stared at each other, Eresh looked back and forth between them in the increasingly tense silence. When the maid suddenly returned, a nympherai woman following behind her, he let out a relieved sigh. “Ah!” he cried, cutting the tension. “Looks like we have another visitor!”

While the maid excused herself, the nympherai joined the small group by the table. “Please, call me Trin,” she said. Compared to Evelyne, who felt to Leandros like the personification of nails on a chalkboard, Trin had a calming presence. Though short, she stood with her shoulders squared and her hands clasped behind her back, elongating the lines of her well-tailored suit. Her short hair was slicked back and her skin was spotted with opalescent scales. She didn’t bow or offer to shake hands, but she gave Leandros a curt nod.

“You’ve met Evelyne already, right? And this is Leandros Nochdvor. Pr — Captain Nochdvor, this is Trinity Smith. She’ll be our lead negotiator,” Eresh explained. “She has decades of experience in the field and has handled dozens of hostage negotiations.”

“Only petty kidnappings. First time with something of this magnitude, isn’t it, Trin?” Evelyne asked, the taunt strange in her gentle tone.

“How fortunate I am to have you as part of my tactical team again, Ms. Corscia,” Trin said in a dry tone. “Of course I haven’t negotiated anything of this magnitude, but if kings were disappearing often, that would be more of a failing on yours and Unity’s parts than mine, don’t you think?”

Evelyne scowled in reply.

“So, you two know each other,” Leandros said. He was beginning to worry he was the only stranger in a team of old acquaintances. Wouldn’t that just be typical. “Do you work for Unity as well, Ms. Smith?”

“Only occasionally. It’s nothing to your trade agreements with the oanai, Prince Nochdvor, but when two hikers went missing in Lyryma last year, Unity brought me in to negotiate with them. I had the privilege, then, of working with Ms. Corscia and her team. I hope you won’t be so eager for blood this time, Evelyne.”

“Blood?” Leandros asked, eyeing Evelyne. Unbidden, Aleksir’s warnings about Orean on fire came to mind.

“Only a figure of speech, my Lord,” Evelyne said smoothly.

The reassurance didn’t settle the uneasy prickling sensation at the back of Leandros’ neck. “Right.”