“Katja, how grand it is to see you,” chimed the woman waiting in the Brendt meeting room. “Love the name you’ve chosen, by the way.”

She sashayed over to her and gave her a light hug followed by a quick peck on the cheek. Katja returned the greeting without a thought.

“Brunhilde, whatever brings you here?” The last person she had expected to see was her stepmother.

Brunhilde was ten years older than Katja but dressed as a woman only entering her prime. Long ago, Katja had been jealous of her honey blonde locks and delicately striking facial structure, not often seen among the average Inglewoman. She wore her curls tied up in an outlandish style, held in place under a hairnet adorned with jewels and a black, lace fascinator. Her gown was made of a gorgeous red wine silk with a wolf fur cape dyed black to match her headwear.

“Don’t look so excited to see me, Little Dove,” Brunhilde said, making Katja flinch. Little Dove was the pet name Melikheil had given her once upon a time, and Brunhilde decided to keep the name alive after he left for war. The sound of it always made the blood curdle in her veins.

“Did my father send you, or are you here on your own volition?” Katja crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Your father misses you dearly, I assure you, but he did not send me. I volunteered to make the journey. The City of Nordenhein is the place of my birth, you know. It has been too long since I’ve taken in the ash-free air. How are you finding the winters here?”

“Cold,” said Katja dully.

“I can see you are eager for conversation today.” Brunhilde rolled her eyes.

“You took a three-day journey from Deschner in the middle of winter to pay me a visit after six years . . . just for conversation?” Katja raised one eyebrow.

“Well, forgive me for wanting to catch up a little before getting down to the task. I don’t see why the two of us can’t just attempt to enjoy each other’s company once in a while,” Brunhilde huffed. “Your father and I are curious as to how your thesis is coming along. I understand it’s about communicating with golems without Mage intervention. Whatever made you choose such a bold topic?”

Katja grazed her fingertips across the cushioned frame of one of the sofas. “Quite an obvious reason, really. If something ever happens to the one and only Golem Mage, the golems and their contributions will be lost forever.”

“And what do you think is going to happen to the last Golem Mage?” Brunhilde’s eyes narrowed.

“Why, anything at all. Our nation is at war with rebel armies wishing to dismantle his regime. There are threats from a desert warlord to decimate our entire nation, not to mention the fact that all men age—and die. Worse still, he stands to leave behind no son bearing the Eye of Verishten. So you can see how my work is needed.”

Brunhilde shivered in her black fur cape. “Yes, well, I suppose that is why you are the Golem Expert.” She twisted her onyx marriage bracelet, her lips pursed with irritation. She had yet to bear Katja’s father an heir, and he was getting quite old indeed. “Your work is needed more than you know,” she went on. “The Regime has recently stumbled upon the Alpha Golem that once guarded the Pass of Halberschtad.”

Katja hardly noticed her own mouth gaping, and her arms fell straight to her sides as she struggled to catch her breath. “Y-you found the Golem of Death? It can’t be . . .”

“Oh, if only you could see it. You will have never laid eyes on a creature so gargantuan.”

“Where was it found?” Katja asked.

“That is classified. Only the highest offiziers of the Regime, myself included, know of its location. War golems are guarding it day and night, and lava golems from the mines are working to unearth it as we speak.”

“What is to be done with it once it’s uncovered? No Mage in history has been able to dominate an Alpha. They are not for any man, but for the Mighty Verishten alone to command.”

“They are to be for our Mighty Führer now,” Brunhilde said, her sparkling hazel eyes betraying her excitement. “He has sent orders to your professor to see that your research is directed toward his end.”

“Toward what end, exactly?” Katja asked. She could hardly believe that her research would actually be used for something so crucial to the Regime, for something as dangerous as the Golem of Death. She was afraid to hear her stepmother’s answer.

“To be the first Mage to dominate an Alpha, and use it to end this silly rebellion. Why else?”

“And he will be the last to do so if he thinks he can dominate the Golem of Death,” said Katja.

“Hush now, Dove,” Brunhilde cooed. “It is your father you’re talking about, and his orders are final. Curtail whatever research you have going on currently. Start looking into how Alphas can be awakened and anything else you can find out about them.”

“I’ve studied golems for six years, and now I’m supposed to find out everything there is to know about Alphas in just how many? One?” Katja sputtered.

“Hopefully, yes. But if it takes longer, then I suppose we will have to wait, though not forever, mind you.”

“Tell them to leave it where it is,” Katja warned.

“That is not for us to decide. When your father has his mind set on something—well, we know how that can turn out.”

“Are you referring to how he systematically murdered all the other Golem Mage families so he would remain completely unimpeded?” Katja said, crossing her arms in front of her chest again.

“To put it bluntly . . . I suppose,” replied Brunhilde, twisting her marriage bracelet a second time.

“Even you can see this is madness!”

“I will hear nothing more of it,” Brunhilde said in a sharpened tone. “Starting tonight, you and your team officially work for the Regime. All you need worry about is how to wake the Golem of Death, and garner some insights as to how it can be dominated. Truthfully, none of us know if the Mages of old ever tried to control one. It might be easy. Your father suggests studying regular ones, and hopefully they can lead you to another Alpha lying dormant somewhere. Do whatever you scholarly types do and figure out how to wake it up. We expect status reports on a biweekly basis. Do you think you can manage that?”

There was nothing else to say. Katja knew better than anyone that once one was deemed to be an instrument of the Regime, there was no backing out without severe consequences. She had to think of the safety of her team. They were a part of this too.

“Of course. I will do whatever I can to aid the Regime in this endeavor,” Katja’s eyes drifted to the floor.

“You always talk of the Regime as if you exist outside of it, when in fact you are every bit a part of it as your father,” said her stepmother.

“You and I both know that I am no more a part of this regime than the ghosts of the kings that were slaughtered under it. Father hardly registers my existence anymore.” That’s all she had ever been to him, a wandering spirit in his dark castle halls, growing lonelier and more vulnerable with every passing day.

Brunhilde sighed heavily. “Oh cheer up, Little Dove. Think of all the discoveries you will make as a result of this assignment. Your thesis will dominate all others in your field.”

Katja nodded in agreement, even though all she could think was how impossible the task before her was going to be. Her thesis was the least of her worries now. The Regime was attempting to awaken an Alpha, and the Golem of Death at that. Admittedly, Katja had not studied Alphas much, being that up until now they were thought to have disappeared. But if the lore were correct, the one who controlled the Golem of Death would have the power to destroy anyone and anything at will. It was not only going to be the rebels that suffered under its destructive gaze, but all of Ingleheim and the kingdoms beyond. It was complete folly, and Katja wanted no part in it.

Brunhilde dismissed herself and went to the door. Katja thanked her for coming by, even though her thoughts were fervidly opposed to her words.

“Wait, there is something else you should know,” the Spirit Mage turned back to Katja, her hand still on the doorknob. “You mentioned desert warlords earlier, which reminded me of something I had neglected to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Meister Melikheil . . .” Brunhilde struggled to appear stoic, but continued in a wavering voice. “. . . is dead.”

Katja felt as if a bag of bricks had struck her right in the midsection. The news of such a powerful sorcerer being dead was almost as much of a shock as learning that an Alpha Golem had been found. “H-how . . . how did he . . . ?” she sputtered.

“Well, you remember that silly deal he made with the King of Del’Cabria to eliminate the Overlord of Herran, Nas’Gavarr? It turns out the Great Melikheil was not great enough.”

“But he was so powerful,” Katja murmured.

“You don’t have to tell me. I’ve seen no other Mage wield both essence and spirit as effortlessly as he did. He should have been able to defeat that desert serpent.” Brunhilde’s delicate jaw clenched, and she couldn’t continue.

Katja nodded, trying her best to appear unaffected by the news. “When did all this happen?”

“When the Del’Cabrians first marched on Herran, Melikheil went with them and never returned. Our Meister–Apprentice rapport allows me to stay connected with him, and that connection was . . . brutally severed. It would seem that Nas’Gavarr’s proficiency with flesh magic won him the day.”

“That was almost a year ago. Why did you wait until now to tell me?” Katja asked shrilly.

“I’m sorry, dear. It didn’t cross my mind to tell you at the time. You were so busy studying, and things are always hectic in Deschner considering the rebellion and everything. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d care so much. How close were the two of you really?” Brunhilde let out a slight huff at the rhetorical question she posed.

You, above all others, knew exactly how close we were, Katja fumed within her mind. She still couldn’t believe what her stepmother had told her. Am I finally free of him? Brunhilde could be playing some cruel jest, but to what end? She may be the queen of deceit, but something about how distraught she sounded told Katja she was not lying. It was enough to bring a relief that she never thought she would ever get to feel, not since the day she met the iniquitous sorcerers.

“Now, I really must be going. I don’t know when I will see you again. You will need to remain here to work over the break. Hopefully you will finish soon and you can join your father and me in Breisenburg when it comes time to awaken our Alpha. Goodbye for now, Little Dove.”

A weak utterance of a goodbye was all Katja could manage in reply.

Brunhilde closed the door behind her while Katja flopped down onto the sofa, trying to keep her thoughts straight. She couldn’t decide whether to feel long-overdue relief in knowing Melikheil was gone or frustration over the impossible research project she was just assigned. Her confusion about the whole situation soon led to anger.

How dare she come to my school with her wolf furs and fake niceties to drag me back into the insanity that I have been free from for six years, she seethed inwardly. In Nordenhein, Katja’s gifts could be put to a noble purpose. Here, she was more than just an isolated highborn girl without a true friend to be found. She was the university’s top Golem Studies acolyte, soon to be an expert in her field, powerful in her own right and earned on her own merits.

It was at that moment when Katja made a decision. She would sooner see the Regime fall to pieces than let that witch decide how she would make her mark.

Meister Melikheil is dead now, she thought. Do you really think you can control me in my world, Brunhilde? You say I should curtail my current research, but it is far too important to let go. She would continue to investigate ways an average human could influence golems and with that knowledge, man and golem will live the way Verishten intended. With golems on the side of all mankind, her father’s power over the people would wane, and his regime would fade away into obsolescence.

Now all Katja had to figure out was how to do that while pretending to do what the Regime had ordered her to do.

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