THIRTY: A Familiar Stranger

The atmosphere of the room was heavy.

Colored paper covered the few lanterns set around for lighting, washing everything in deep red and blue hues. Shimmering chains of jewels and multicolored tapestries covered nearly every spot of the walls.

To top it off, a sickeningly sweet-smelling smoke swirled around the air, fed directly by the lips of several people lounging around with pipes in their hands.

It wasn't quiet, but it wasn't necessarily loud either. Some people were talking and laughing, some drinking, some smoking, and some passed out. Various curtains around the room concealed alcoves where Kel could only guess other people were doing unspeakable acts.

Trying her best to move naturally, Kel took an empty seat at a small table near the edge of the room.

Throughout her various meetings with the emperor and his subordinates lately, she'd learned two important things. The first was that the emperor definitely had a meticulous plan laid out to trap Spencer Regan. The second was that she played a very important part in this plan… apparently.

While preparing her for the party, nobody had actually told her what to look for specifically. She'd been given all sorts of vague instructions like, 'blend in," and, 'find solid evidence if you can,' but what exactly was their definition of solid evidence?

Ira, in particular, had continually stressed the importance of getting even further into Spencer Regan's good graces. His words still rang clearly in her head.

'He's noticed you, taken pity on you. Be sure to talk with him at the party. It might not be this time around, but if you can lower his guard, the evidence we need will come.'

Great. So basically she was supposed to look for the cherry head creep and put on her pitiful war hostage act. Before that, however, she wondered if there was something more useful she could accomplish from this escapade.

As she sat pondering, a couple of women approached her. Their eyes were probably the only part of their bodies that were well-hidden, thanks to their skimpy sheer-ish dresses.

"You're sure pretty," one of them slurred, setting a glass in front of Kel. "Why don't you drink with us?"

"We'll teach you how to hook all the men here," the other one added, moving to take the chair opposite of Kel.

"I'm not interested," Kel replied coldly, pushing the drink away.

These two women looked like small fish, after all. She needed to hook something much bigger than 'all the men here' if she wanted to complete her mission.

"Hmph! What a rude girl!" one of the women snorted, stomping away. The other stuck her tongue out at Kel before grabbing the drink and following her friend.

Behind the scantily-clad duo came a train of others offering various substances and 'advice' to Kel. She tactfully(ish) rejected all of them, just as Ira and Thane had instructed her to.

You didn't mention, Kel thought as she watched another person trudge angrily away from her table, that I'd look like a complete fool!

She scanned the room again, feeling embarrassed and rather hopeless when she spied something interesting.

What she could only guess was a man stood on the opposite side of the room watching Kel intently. Unlike most of the other partygoers, however, his mask covered his entire face.

Kel remembered his striking red and white mask from the alley the night of the festival. Could this person be the same one?

When the man caught her watching him, he suddenly ducked into one of the curtained alcoves.

"Wait!" Kel jumped to her feet, preparing to follow him.

Before she could even take a step, a large, masculine hand pushed her back down onto her chair.

"What, did they not teach you to avoid those rooms at all costs?" A deep-voiced hooded figure slumped down across from her, sliding a glass full of clear liquid across the table.

Kel was startled for a moment by his sudden actions, but quickly regained her composure. "No than-"

"You know, you're more likely to blow your cover by not drinking anything," the figure interrupted.

He grabbed the glass and took a swig of it before pushing it back toward Kel.

"See? It's safe," he smirked from underneath his hood.

Kel surveyed the man carefully before realization dawned on her.

"M-Mr. Magician?" she blurted out.

The man chuckled. "That's not my name though?"

"I don't care what your name is," Kel muttered, staring suspiciously at the glass.

"I promise it's safe," the man laughed again. "Take a drink."

"Do I look stupid to you?" Kel quipped. "The last thing you offered me wasn't exactly safe."

She shuddered as she thought back to the painful sensation caused by the strange stone the magician had given her.

"Ah, sorry about that," the man replied. "It was just a test of sorts."

"A test?" Kel scoffed. Like their last encounter, she couldn't seem to get any straight information from him.

"Yep," the man leaned toward her, resting his chin in his hands. "The good news is that you passed."

"I'm not interested," Kel said flatly, getting up to leave.

"I can help you," the man said quietly. "You want to take this place down, don't you?"

"You're wrong," Kel insisted. The fact that this man seemed to be able to read her like a book was unsettling, and all she could think about was getting away.

"You stay here then," the man continued, standing up. "I'll go since I make you uncomfortable."

He reached for her hand and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles before she could protest.

"At least leave that in front of you," he added, tilting his head toward the drink.

Kel rolled her eyes, which should have been imperceptible behind her mask, but the man laughed knowingly as he walked away.

Around the time he had disappeared from her view, Kel decided to approach the bar and ask to see Spencer Regan. In between the pestering drink-offerers, she'd had time to surmise the best method and timing to draw the least amount of attention to herself. She'd also surmised that there was absolutely nothing to gain by sitting at that table in the corner.

Just as she'd rehearsed in her head, she strutted to the bar and asked the lone tender if he knew the whereabouts of Spencer Regan. Naturally the bartender was hesitant to abandon his post to fetch his boss, but Kel had prepared. She pulled out bits of her sob story as a foreign princess held hostage by the Dragon Emperor's ruthless clutches.

As the man's look softened, she pleaded that Spencer Regan was her only hope, even revealing a small lock of her hair to seal her words.

Finally, the man stepped out from behind the short counter, promising to fetch her savior.

Now that the area was clear, Kel surveyed the space behind the bar for any sort of 'solid evidence.' Even a product list would suffic-

Suddenly, a slightly loosened roll of paper caught her eye.

Kel only needed to scan the first few lines of text to know she'd struck gold.

Something Ira had mentioned in passing immediately came to her mind.

'They keep written proof of every person who attends the Pantheon Masquerades. It's mainly used to blackmail those whose names are on the list, but they use it for all sorts of other filthy purposes as well.'

Luckily for Kel, the precious list had been hastily tucked away in a tiny corner rather than locked up properly.

This was the perfect opportunity. Even the hard-to-please Ira was bound to be impressed by her evidence-gathering skills.

All she had to do was tuck the register away in the extra pocket sewn inside her cloak and leave the party without drawing attention to herself.

"This should be a breeze," Kel smirked, diving behind the bar.

Unfortunately, she was gravely mistaken.

"Over there!!"

"She stole the register!"

"Bring her back dead or alive!"