Lucimia returned to Rexi’s side and set the mouse on her shoulder, like a small gray sentinel perched on a branch.

Her tone was steady, a pebble dropped into calm water. “Rexi, you know where Bevi usually hides, right? Tell me where he is. I need him.”

“Bevi? No problem.” Rexi snapped her fingers. Memory flowed like a ribbon of light and slipped into Lucimia—Bevi’s basement, its shape and smell.

Lucimia skimmed the images like turning pages in a wind-stirred book, then nodded.

She drew a grimoire from her Storage Ring, the cover glinting like a dark lake, and handed it over. “I’ll go find Bevi. You and Nirael wait here. If you’re bored, read.”

“Okay!” Rexi hugged the grimoire, eyes bright like lanterns at dusk, and dove in with eager fingers.

Watching her, Lucimia felt a ripple of doubt. Nirael had just said Rexi hated studying.

Yet right now she looked like spring rain soaking thirsty soil.

If Lucimia hadn’t used Authority Power to tamper with Nirael’s memory, then that “I hate studying” was a mask. A veil over a deeper city of walls. Did pre-amnesia Rexi hide sharp edges?

Though, thinking it through, it fit. Children of nobles are usually forged like steel, not straw. Few are true fools who only feast and idle.

Oh. She winced. She herself had been food, wine, and play… a drifting kite with a cut string.

Or maybe something else had made Rexi avoid study. With amnesia, those thorns vanished, and she bloomed into learning.

Forget it. Find Bevi first.

Lucimia shook her head, let hesitation fall like loose snow, and used Teleportation Magic to reach Erwei City.

The familiar forest rose around her like dark waves. Bevi had already slipped his bonds; the trace sat in the air like snapped cobwebs. Lucimia leafed through borrowed memory and headed for the city.

A few alleys curled like eels. She reached the wall’s edge, pressed hidden catches; stone slid aside like a tongue. A stairwell yawned downward.

She went in without a flicker. Darkness pooled like ink. She descended, footfalls a soft drumbeat, until a thin blade of light appeared ahead. She quickened, pushed a door, and found Bevi shoving books and oddments into a cloth bag, like a man packing to flee a storm.

“Bevi.”

He jolted. A shiver ran through him like a plucked string, then he saw her and let out a breath like winter steam.

“You came back?”

“I’ve got questions.” Lucimia pulled a chair and sat, her calm a steady rock in a stream.

Bevi nodded and dragged a chair over, eyes flicking toward the ceiling like he could hear distant scratching. “Ask. Make it quick. The rat swarm will be here soon.”

“Fine.” She let thoughts settle like silt, then asked, “In your memory, what was Rexi like before the amnesia?”

“Rexi?” Surprise flashed over him like light on water, same as Nirael’s. He hadn’t expected Lucimia to care about Rexi.

Still, he answered with care, each word laid like a stone. “She was lively and sunny. She disliked magic. She loved swordplay, running, jumping, adventure. Mischief, sure, but nothing worse.”

Close to Nirael’s picture. The lines matched. Likely no memory edits.

Lucimia’s doubt hovered like a moth around a candle.

Her sticking point matched Nirael’s. How did Rexi get Authority Power? If they weren’t lying, how could she gain it in a single month? It ran against the grain.

Was it tied to Ment and Vosh?

That worry pricked like a thorn. What if Vosh had planted something in her shadow?

Worse—what if Rexi could alter others’ memories and was actually Vosh’s plant? Olivya’s books said the Purification Deity had loyal Dark Deity helpers in the First Epoch. They hunted Olivya like hounds on a fox.

She didn’t know if Rexi was one of those. For now, Rexi didn’t seem to be changing anyone’s mind.

Please let it be unrelated. Please let it be another thread entirely. Then she could trust Rexi. Then the blade could point at the Purification Deity without turning back.

“I’ll ask this. When did Rexi kill Duke Eugene’s son?”

“A month ago.”

“A month ago… Then when did Rexi get Authority Power?”

“I don’t know. I learned it from the City Lord.”

“The City Lord told you? When?”

“Also a month ago,” Bevi said. “Lucimia, there’s something I can tell you. The City Lord often took Rexi far from the city before, called it travel. After she killed Duke Eugene’s son, he took her out again, said it was to clear her mood. When they came back, the old City Lord entrusted Rexi to me and told me she had Authority Power. Then Ment turned him into a puppet. Most important—when he brought Rexi back, she was already amnesiac.”

Lucimia listened, a frown growing like a cloudbank.

Bevi had said the Erwei City Lord wanted to protect his daughter, even handed her to Bevi. If so, after Rexi killed someone, wouldn’t he shield her? Weren’t those trips to hide her? Why bring her back and let soldiers hunt her like dogs?

Strange. What game was the old City Lord playing?

Maybe those soldiers weren’t his men at all.

Also, Bevi had used soldiers to get Rexi out, to spare her from the rat swarm—a borrowed knife cutting a different knot.

By Nirael’s account—if Nirael was right—Rexi had no Authority Power a month before, and had it a month later.

Bevi said the old City Lord often took Rexi out. Then she killed someone a month ago. After they returned, she had Authority Power and amnesia. And the old City Lord became a puppet.

So… if the old City Lord’s intent was simple—protect his daughter—

Then there’s a chance he and Bevi knew the hidden paths of Dark Deities. To protect her, he let his daughter become a Dark Deity.

Only as a Dark Deity could she survive in a world ruled by Dark Deities.

Maybe that was his thought, a father’s last torch in a long night.

If that holds, Rexi’s problem isn’t tied to Ment or Vosh. It’s another river entirely.

Then Lucimia could trust Rexi to strike at the Purification Deity.

The theory sat snug, like a key turning. Likely this was the shape of it.

She only had to confirm one thing: Rexi hadn’t altered anyone’s memory. If she had, then Rexi might be masking herself, a sleeper in Erwei City.

“One more. Why did Rexi kill Duke Eugene’s son?”

“I don’t know the details. From what I heard, he bullied her at school. Rexi lost control and killed him.”

“But it hardly matters. Duke Eugene was already Ment’s puppet then. His son probably was, too.”

Bullying? If the son was a puppet, maybe Ment sensed something. Maybe he tried to do more to Rexi than petty cruelty.

Lucimia guessed the old City Lord’s trips might’ve been hunts for memory-Authority wielders. Or searches, then captures.

As for how Rexi gained a memory Authority—that was a locked box she couldn’t open.

Ment could’ve thought the old City Lord was raising a new Dark Deity to oppose him. So he used Eugene’s son to move against Rexi. It wasn’t just schoolyard spite.

He failed. Later, he turned the old City Lord into a puppet.

The old City Lord sent Rexi back—was it to have her deal with Ment? Too late now. Ment was dead.

Fine. It all lined up like stars after a storm. If so, Rexi’s slate looked clean.

Lucimia rubbed her temples; worry thinned like fog in sunlight. Call her paranoid if you want—she needed this strike at the Purification Deity to hold, no reversals.

“Got it. Thanks. I’m leaving.” She didn’t look back. She called Teleportation Magic, and the world folded like silk around her.