The gathering in mid-June fell squarely within the first few days of the workshop.
The Divine Pantheon Salon was no ordinary gathering.
Each time, members were forcefully pulled into a pre-set Dream Divine Hall by one of Hecate’s Techniques.
One’s body would remain in place, while their soul traveled elsewhere.
And a soul traveling elsewhere could not be hidden from watchful eyes.
For the four weeks of the workshop, a Grand Mastery was stationed on campus, and the gaze of an Expert would occasionally drift overhead.
On that night in the middle of the month, if he were to be pulled into the dreamscape and his soul traveled elsewhere...
The silver ring could block scans from the Middle Low Tier and cause the gaze of the Mother Who Eats Shadows, which reached through the passage, to miss its mark.
But the item wasn’t foolproof; a targeted effort could still pierce its defenses.
The Grand Master Professor was observing the workshop specifically to "scout for Miaozi."
If his soul were to fly off into the great beyond on this particular night, it would happen right under their nose.
And the Divine Pantheon Salon was an anonymous circle, one that existed outside the system.
To be caught red-handed by a Grand Mastery who acted as a gatekeeper for the academy’s system...
Richard didn’t dare to imagine the consequences.
He had to excuse himself from this gathering.
Richard took the clay coin from a pocket close to his body.
The image of Hermes’ Caduceus was stamped onto its surface.
This was the new token Hecate had switched to for his second invitation, far more official than the temporary Medical God coin.
According to the Salon’s rules, to make contact privately, one had to hold the token, silently recite their codename, and state their request.
A reply would come by the same time the next day, at the latest.
One was permitted a maximum of five such private messages every two months.
Richard clutched the clay coin in his palm.
’Hermes.’
The moment he silently recited the codename in his mind, the coin in his palm grew slightly warm.
’I cannot attend the next gathering.’
Richard kept his message brief.
’I have an unavoidable obligation that falls on those days. I hope you’ll understand.’
He didn’t specify what the obligation was, where it was, and certainly didn’t mention the workshop, any Grand Mastery, or any Expert.
The temperature of the clay coin slowly subsided.
The request had been sent.
Richard carefully put the clay coin away and blew out the lamp.
Outside the window, somewhere in the Imperial Capital’s night, a distant, unseen clock tower struck eleven.
The reply came the following night, at the same hour.
"Hermes:
Your request for absence is approved."
The first line was short and to the point.
But there was more. Richard continued to read.
"I can guess why you’ve requested leave. You’re currently standing on the threshold of the system, and many eyes are watching from below.
Laying low at a time like this is wise, not cowardly.
The first thing a person who’s climbed out of the box must learn is when to keep their head down."
Richard’s breathing slowed.
’Hecate’s way with words... it’s always the same,’ he thought.
Never spelling anything out, yet every phrase hit right at the heart of the matter.
Further down, the message’s tone shifted.
"As it happens, you aren’t the only one taking leave this time."
"Nemesis also sent word this week, saying she has something she can’t get out of and won’t be able to attend."
’So Nemesis is taking leave as well.’
He was already seventy or eighty percent certain that Nemesis pointed to Catherine Blackwood.
And Catherine had also enrolled in the summer workshop this year; she had been at the tea party just yesterday.
Two people attending the same workshop, both requesting leave in the same week...
The suspicion in Richard’s mind was now all but confirmed.
He pushed that thought aside and continued reading.
"With the two of you absent, two of the seven chairs will be empty."
"As for myself, I’m also unable to spare the time."
"You likely still remember the matter of the Divine Mask."
Of course Richard remembered.
"It is an incredibly painstaking task."
"Into a single mask, one must gather, thread by thread, all the concepts that have settled around a divine name over thousands of years."
"It cannot be rushed, and there can be no mistakes. Lately, the majority of my focus has been on it."
"Since both you and Nemesis will be absent, and I am also tied up..."
"This gathering is hereby canceled."
Reading this, Richard felt a wave of relief.
This saved him the trouble of having to find another excuse for his "absence" at the next gathering.
"The next meeting will be in mid-August."
"The torch will be lit then. I hope to see more of the seven chairs filled."
He let out a long sigh.
A weight had been lifted from his mind.
For the next month, he could focus wholeheartedly on the workshop.
Richard blew out the lamp and lay down.
The unseen clock tower outside the window began to chime again.
One... two... three... As he counted, he drifted off to sleep.
Richard’s chest suddenly tightened, and he was violently pulled from the depths of sleep.
He had been sleeping soundly, so soundly that he hadn’t even dreamed.
But Wild Sleep had left him with a single window cracked open, one meant exclusively for letting in danger.
And tonight, something outside had just rattled it.
He opened his eyes. The silver ring and Eagle Hook hanging on his chest had both grown cold.
It was a pure cold, one that seeped from his skin straight to his bones.
He recognized this chill. The last time he’d felt it was at the bottom of the Unyielding Pit, when that Expert of the Gale Tradition had cast his gaze upon him.
Richard’s gaze shifted to the window.
The guest room in Ashford Mansion was on the third floor. Outside the window was the Imperial Capital’s night sky, perpetually choked with coal smoke.
The night sky was quiet in a way that felt wrong.
The steam whistle from the distant freight yard, the clanking chains of the canal barges, the night watchman’s clapper—all the usual sounds were there.
But it was as if a layer of something had been placed beneath them, causing them to float and feel indistinct, like sounds muffled by a thick, sodden sheet of cotton.
He spread his inspiration outward.
The city’s hidden corners crashed into his Perception, layer by layer.
In the districts to the north, every pendulum clock had stopped at the exact same instant, their pendulums suspended in midair, refusing to be the first to fall.
For a stretch of the river that cut through the city, the turbid waves flowed backward for the space of three breaths before resuming their normal course.
On one entire street, the flames of the gas lamps all leaned in the same direction, perfectly aligned, as if pressed down by an invisible hand.
Iron railings grew inexplicably hot in the June night.
In a narrow alley not far from the mansion, for the space of half a second, every shadow rose up from its owner’s feet, then lay back down in perfect unison.
Richard’s breathing slowed.
This scene felt familiar.
At the Round Table in the Divine Pantheon Salon, Hecate had shown them the collateral effects that had bled through to the material side when two Experts had clashed on Hemes Island.
’Are Experts fighting above the Imperial Capital?’
Richard retracted his inspiration, leaving only the finest thread to probe at the edges of the phenomenon.
There were three masses.
Three collapsing entities, on a scale that was not human, were pressing and colliding against one another behind the Curtain.
He couldn’t see them clearly. If he tried, his own inspiration would be dragged into the fray. He only dared to form a blurry impression of their general outlines.
Of the three masses, one was being ganged up on by the other two, silently routing and fleeing in one direction.
An intensely cold echo began to travel along reflective surfaces.
Shop windows, puddles on the street, the brass lamps of a carriage, the crack in a window where the curtains weren’t fully drawn... The echo slid from one reflection to the next, drawing closer and closer.
In that same second, Richard heard his own name softly spoken, as if from right behind him.
He instantly pulled back every trace of his inspiration, snuffing himself out from the inside like an extinguished candle, pinching off even the last wisp of lingering smoke.
In his chest, the inverted Light Tree within his Throne of the Sun pulled all its branches and leaves in tight against the trunk, and even his Breathing was suppressed to its absolute minimum.
The silver ring on his chest was freezing cold.
After the name was spoken, the echo paused.
It hadn’t found what it was looking for. It drifted past Richard, this extinguished Candle, and moved on.
It was like a blind man fumbling about a room, his fingertips brushing against a wall but never finding the painting hanging upon it.
The echo receded, traveling away along the glass reflections.
Behind the Curtain, the two pursuing entities chased after the fleeing one, surging together toward the western part of the city.
All three masses left the range of Richard’s Perception.
The heat in the iron railings subsided, and all the shadows lay back down at their owners’ feet.
The gas lamp flames, released from their hold, flickered wildly for a moment before returning to their usual dance in the night breeze.
To the north, the pendulums of more than a dozen clocks fell in unison, ticking rapidly to make up for the lost seconds.
Few people in the city would ever know that they had lost a few seconds of their lives that night.
Richard lay with his eyes open until the gray-white light of dawn began to seep through the smog.
He rested with his eyes closed until the sky had fully brightened, then he sat up and adjusted the two items on his chest, which had since returned to their normal temperature.
It was a new day, and he had business to attend to.
After washing up, Richard had planned to head to the Petrie Building as usual.
But as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the old butler was there waiting.
"Young Master Richard, the master is waiting for you in the study."
’His grandfather has been very busy these last few days.’
’After such a huge disturbance in the city last night, there’s no way the Gatekeeper Family would be unaware.’
His mind occupied with the events of the previous night, Richard didn’t ask any questions and simply followed the old butler toward the study.
Before he even entered, he sensed that there was another person in the room.
The Ether fluctuations emanating from them were steady and familiar.
Pushing the door open, he saw his grandfather, Gerald, sitting behind the large desk.
Seated diagonally across from him was a thin woman in a gray dress, holding a teacup.
It was Mrs. MacNeil.
"Good morning, Grandfather, Mrs. MacNeil," Richard said, greeting each of them in turn.
"Sit," Gerald said, raising a hand.
Richard sat down in the chair positioned between them.
Mrs. MacNeil placed her teacup back on the table and turned to look at him.
"Little Richard," she began, "how many days have you been in the Imperial Capital?"
Richard did a quick calculation. "Half a month."
"Half a month," Mrs. MacNeil repeated, taking another sip of her tea.
"You’ve certainly settled in. In half a month, you’ve managed to completely forget about my teacher."
Richard froze for a moment.
Then he remembered.
When Old Big had pressed the handwritten manuscript into his hands, he’d said that when Richard reached the Imperial Capital in June, Lady Mary would make time to teach him.
But in the half-month since his arrival, he had been completely absorbed in his aunt’s tutoring sessions.
There was the Ancient Greek Text, the prep-course practice exams, not to mention his meeting with Grey and the tea party from a couple of days ago...
There had been so much going on that he had forgotten about this matter without a trace.
"...It was my oversight," Richard admitted honestly.
Mrs. MacNeil looked at his somewhat embarrassed expression and sighed.
"I guessed you’d simply forgotten out of busyness."
"Your aunt has been keeping you on a tight leash. I called the associate professor’s office a few days ago and heard from that student, Sofia, that you’ve been getting there even earlier than she does every day."
Richard rubbed his nose.
"My teacher isn’t one to take the initiative."
"If you show up, she’ll teach you."
"If you don’t, she won’t even utter a word like, ’Why hasn’t that child arrived yet?’"
It turned out both sides had been waiting.
Richard, for his part, hadn’t seen anyone from Huayue Street sent to summon him, so he assumed Lady Mary was too busy to be disturbed.
As a mere Newcomer, how could he dare to show up unannounced and bother a Grand Mastery?
And Lady Mary would never send someone to fetch him; she simply waited for students to appear at her door, ready to teach them a few things. If they didn’t come, she would let the matter drop.
It was a good thing Mrs. MacNeil was more conscientious, otherwise the opportunity would have been lost.
"I understand. And thank you for coming all this way to remind me."
Richard stood and gave Mrs. MacNeil a slight bow.
"When do you think would be a good time for me to visit?"
"Today would be perfect," Mrs. MacNeil replied, also standing and smoothing her dress.
"I’ll go on ahead. You can come over once you’ve settled things here."
"Oh, right," she added, turning back at the doorway. "Remember to bring that handwritten manuscript."
Richard was well aware that the book, *Divination and Spiritual Vision: From Novice to Master*, was borrowed.
Now that he was going to meet its owner, he naturally had to return it.
"Of course. I’ll remember."
Only the grandfather and grandson were left in the study.
Gerald still hadn’t spoken.
’Last year, when Richard had first considered using a formal apprenticeship to build connections, he himself had been the one to pour cold water on the idea.’
’But things were different now.’
’The title of "student of Lady Mary" was, in truth, not particularly valuable.’
’But for Lady Mary, who didn’t even accept formal disciples, to be willing to personally teach Richard for a time—that was another matter entirely.’
"You’ve gotten pretty good at managing your relationships, kid," Gerald said, looking at Richard.
"First, Old Mo writes you a letter of recommendation, and now Lady Mary herself has taken an interest in teaching you."
Richard stood silently.
"Go on," Gerald said with a wave of his hand.
"Pay attention to her lessons. I’ll call your aunt and let her know."
"...Yes."
Richard returned to his room and took out the leather case that held the manuscript.
He also gathered the Copper Disc, the Talisman Stone, and the small, half-full bottle of Dangling Star Sand to take with him.

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