Elsewhere, in the private study of Second Legion Commander Eryx, night had fallen. A faint breeze stirred the air, which was heavy with the lingering scent of tobacco and old leather—thick, oppressive, and unmoving.
Behind a heavy oak desk, Eryx sat in a high-backed chair, fingers interlocked, eyes locked in a cold, unwavering stare at the man across from him—a man who wore an expression of careless indifference.
Jim. The elusive "ally" who always appeared at critical junctures, yet remained outside the bounds of order.
"I told you," Eryx's voice was low, each syllable laced with sharp-edged frost, "you were to inform me—no, to act alongside Will."
He suddenly stood, eyes narrowing as he bore down on Jim. "Why did you move without permission? Why send Will away? Who was in that cave? Why were Elias and Marcellus both deployed personally? Was it Livia? Did you really—kill her?"
Each word was bit out like a blade through ice, his fury erupting in the silence of the study.
Jim only shrugged, his face wearing that familiar lazy, nonchalant smile. "How should I know? I don't even know who this Livia is." He raised his hands in mock helplessness. "The entrance to that cave was so narrow only a slender woman could slip through. I could barely squeeze in. What could I have possibly done? When I heard someone was coming, I pulled out. Fast. Didn't want to be seen. Especially not by someone you wouldn't want me seen by. Right, Commander?"
He drew out the word Commander with deliberate irony, his voice soft as a whisper but carrying the cold weight of a dull knife pressed to skin.
Eryx's expression shifted, something wary flickering beneath his stern brow. He knew exactly what Jim meant. The man might be on the fringes, but he held cards—secrets that must never see the light of day. And Jim knew it. More importantly, Eryx did not want it known that they were in any form of cooperation.
Jim went on, still grinning. "Anyway, if I couldn't even get into the inner chamber, how could I have killed anyone? As for who was in there, or what happened afterward—how would I know? All I did was stall Will a bit so I could get out in one piece."
His tone remained light, but he deftly skirted around any mention of the brief confrontation between him and Livia inside the cave.
Eryx narrowed his eyes, voice turning frigid. "So you got nothing?"
Jim shrugged again, carefree. "Of course not. I was stuck outside. But the person inside said a few things—sounded like she did have something on her. But I'm certain it wasn't the 'treasure' you're after. If it had been, do you really think I'd be standing here, alive?"
Eryx didn't respond. He simply began tapping his fingers on the desk, his gaze boring into Jim like he could peel the skin back and see what lay beneath.
"Come on now…" Jim suddenly shifted tone, letting out a small laugh. "Sure, the mission may look like a bust—but we didn't walk away empty-handed."
Eryx snorted, clearly unimpressed. "You call getting played by the enemy a harvest?"
But Jim only shook his head, his grin widening as he drawled, "Quite the opposite. We confirmed something important: Marcellus and Elias set a trap for you. Their people are operating right under your nose, in your territory. Which means, just as we suspected—the 'treasure' is likely hidden somewhere in your domain."
Eryx's expression tightened, but he remained silent.
Jim leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping the air between them. "Now we know the target, the players, and the pace of their game. If we work together—" his smile sharpened like a fox's glinting eye, "—then wouldn't this 'treasure' be practically within reach?"
Eryx said nothing for a long moment. The fire in his eyes dimmed slightly, giving way to caution and calculation.
"Hmph." His voice was low and cold. "Then tell me—what's the next step?"
Jim's grin paused for a beat before returning to its usual teasing shape. He clapped his hands lightly, though his tone dropped lower, more deliberate.
"Simple…"
Outside, the wind rose, tugging at the corners of the curtains and stirring a faint, hollow howl. The stillness of the night was broken, like clouds dragged out of place by something unseen.
Jim tapped his finger lightly on the desk, each tap syncing with the rhythm of the wind—as though echoing some deeper, darker beat within his thoughts.