Devikra led Egil out of the corner of Damael he’d settled into, instead taking him deeper and deeper into the city. No one came near them, but those still out and about paused to watch the duo pass – Devikra, with her rich clothes, white hair, and proud bearing inspiring awe while Egil’s weapons, bloodied clothes, and sharp gaze kept them back.

“You already know so much about me,” Egil mused as they walked. “It’s like you’ve been watching.”

“Of course I have. I’d be a fool not to watch you, not when I make it my business to collect important knowledge,” Devikra said, then flashing him a smile. “Besides, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for such a long time.”

Egil only frowned back, something niggling at the back of his mind again. “This may sound strange,” he started, “But you already feel familiar to me.”

“And you to me,” Devikra said. “Strange, isn’t it? If we’ve met, I can guarantee it wasn’t in this life.”

Eventually, Devikra turned down a quiet side street near the upper market, then down a darkened staircase, finally stopping at a heavy iron door. When she knocked, the door swung open almost immediately, opened by a young, delicate alfar. Her carefully-coiffed hair was braided up into a bun, showing off the long, pointed ears that marked her alfar blood. Her silhouette outlined against a warm glow, she tipped her head to one side, gaze flicking curiously over Egil before she dropped into a curtsy. Her hands tugged at the skirts of her dress.

“My handmaiden, Wilhara,” Devikra told Egil when the alfar stepped aside to let them in. “I apologize for the quiet; it would be livelier here were it not so late. Did anyone come by while I was gone, Wil?”

Wilhara answered with another curtsy. “All was quiet.”

“Thank you for staying here, darling. I know you don’t like being left alone,” Devikra said to the girl, dropping her voice low. Egil looked away, not sure he was supposed to hear.

Inside was wide and open, lit dimly by a smattering of candles spaced throughout. Several sofas turned to face each other, all covered in pillows of varying sizes. It was surprisingly warm, Egil noted, despite there being no fireplace, and some sort of perfume hung heavy in the air.

Once they were inside and the door was bolted shut, Wilhara seemed to dismiss the two of them entirely. She headed over to the sofas, ignoring them in favor of sitting on a pillow on the floor. She pulled some sort of large book into her lap and didn’t so much as glance up at Egil or Devikra again.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Devikra told Egil, already heading toward a hallway in the back, hidden partially behind a folding screen. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

When she was gone, Egil moved to the sofa across from Wilhara, foregoing it at the last moment to join her on the ground. The movement jostled the stitches he’d put into his own leg earlier that night and he cringed.

Wilhara looked up at him, watching his mouth, not his eyes. “You’re hurt,” she said, like she was telling him, not making an observation. “You got in a fight with Unity, then stitched yourself up, even though you don’t like stitches.”

Egil stared at her. “How do you know that?”

Wilhara looked down. “The Oracle saw it.”

“And she told you?” Egil asked, subconsciously lowering his voice to match Wilhara’s soft tone. She seemed to relax at that, looking back up at him.

“Dev tells me everything.”

Suddenly, from somewhere above, a series of bells started tolling. Seeing’s Egil’s surprised glance upward, Wilhara explained, “It’s only the bell tower. We’re under the church. During the day, people come to visit Devikra up there.”

“Huh.”

Wilhara nodded, her hands again tugging at the fabrics of her skirt. The movement jostled the book on her lap enough that Egil could see the pages of a sketchbook covered in heavy charcoal.

“What are you drawing?” Egil asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Do you mind me watching?”

Wilhara bit her lip, wide eyes surprised, then shook her head. After that she stared at her sketchbook for a while, her eyes glazing over when she finally continued drawing. Her hand seemed to move across the page without her even realizing it.

Egil felt content to just watch in silence, enjoying the rare peace of the moment. The longer they sat, the more tension eased out of him.

It all returned with Devikra.

“She must like you,” Devikra said, rejoining them. “She never works with other people present.”

“Works?” Egil asked.

Devikra didn’t answer, instead sitting on the sofa behind Wilhara, who didn’t glance up or stop drawing for even a moment. Devikra lounged among the cushions, one hand idly caressing Wilhara’s hair.

“So,” Egil began, when she didn’t speak, “Your proposal?”

Devikra nodded, pursed her lips. “I’m trying to think of how best to explain my visions. If the general populace knew what I do with them, they might think me…well, not a false prophet, but perhaps a disingenuous one. My visions are true, that much is no lie. I see the future— snapshots of it, always without context. I have no control over what I see or when. I’m sure you can imagine how inconvenient that is, seeing fleeting glimpses of such a great world.”

“I suppose.”

“For a long time, I struggled with what to do with this gift. I’d see terrible things I didn’t know enough to understand— not until after they came to pass, at least. It is knowledge, I’ve learned, that's key. The more I know of the world and what’s happening in it, the better I can understand my visions before they’re fulfilled.

“So I created a…business centered around my visions. I have employees everywhere, listening to the happenings of the world and reporting them back to me.”

“I won’t be a spy,” Egil interrupted, “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I imagine you’ve had enough of that. I wasn’t asking you to be.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“Once seen, my visions cannot be changed. But if I can understand and interpret them quickly enough, I can soften the damages. Say I see a war break out in the north — I can go and stop it before the rest of the world even catches up to what’s happening.”

“Uh huh,” Egil said, sitting back. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m getting there,” Devikra scolded, making a smile tug at the corners of Egil’s lips. “I’m only one woman; I have too many visions to be able to act on all of them. I need help. Someone to stop that northern war, if you will.”

“Why me?”

“I know who you were, what you’ve done. I know you want to make up for it. I want to make the world better, Egil, and I want to entrust my visions to someone who shares my values. From what I’ve seen and heard, that’s you.”

Devikra smiled, sharp and wide. “I could also give the calculating answer, say that having you on my side would be gaining a powerful ally. The truth is, though, that it’s a little of both, and that you remind me of someone very dear to me.”

Wilhara looked up. She stared at Egil a long moment before something like realization crossed her face. When Egil caught her looking, she ducked her head.

Devikra ignored the short exchange, instead saying, “What do you say? You’ll be able to help countless innocent people, working for me. Maybe you’ll finally be able to atone.”

“You mentioned getting me answers,” Egil said.

“I did.”

“Get them for me, and I’ll work for you.”

“Work for me, and then I’ll start looking for them.”

Egil considered Devikra. She met his gaze evenly, matched the small smile on his own face. “Fine. I’m in.”