A couple of hours passed before Evelyn returned to Lucien's manor. She remained inside only long enough to change clothing and acquire the funds she expected to need for the afternoon, leaving the carriage driver waiting outside the large Victorian house. The horse displayed considerably less patience than the man, stamping against the street until Evelyn emerged again in an entirely different dress, sturdier boots, and a smaller hat.
"Delawin Street, please. In front of the second warehouse. We will be picking up another person," she said lightly to the driver, then stepped into the carriage. The man closed the door behind her and returned to his seat. A flick of the reins carried them away from the manor.
The journey did not take long. The dark-colored carriage stopped before the same warehouse Evelyn had selected earlier, settling beside the curb while the driver removed a cigarette and lit it. Smoke drifted beyond the narrow front window as the minutes passed. Eventually it became clear that the man Eve expected was late.
A passing carriage briefly interrupted the light entering through the side window. When illumination returned, Evelyn noticed something wrong with the opposite bench. The upholstery appeared duller than it had moments before, while the shadows covering it possessed edges too deliberate to belong to the carriage itself. They resembled the silhouette of a seated man.
Once Evelyn recognized the discrepancy, the figure became apparent almost all at once. Dark layered robes concealed nearly his entire body, and an unnaturally deep hood obscured the upper half of his face along with every meaningful detail of the clothing beneath. Only a pair of sturdy gray boots remained clearly visible. Evelyn had no idea when he entered.
That fact bothered her more than his appearance. Her Spectator foundation and Telepathist advancement had greatly improved her perception of people, intention, emotion, and the occasional stray surface thought, yet none of those abilities had warned her that another human being occupied the enclosed carriage. Either his concealment exploited a weakness in her senses or he had arrived during a moment of inattention precise enough to be embarrassing.
The man did not speak. Nothing in his posture suggested he intended to speak first either. Beneath the hood, his hidden attention remained fixed upon Evelyn with enough intensity that she could feel the focus even without seeing his eyes. She almost broke composure. Instead, Evelyn leaned back as casually as she could manage and curled one finger around the latch of the window separating the passenger compartment from the driver. She opened it no farther than necessary.
"Drive," Evelyn commanded. The carriage moved almost immediately. She clicked the window closed again as the rumbling wheels filled the enclosed space, then allowed herself one controlled breath before returning her attention to the stranger.
"I was given little detail as to who was to meet me, though if someone like Nox recommends you, I assume your work is well done." Her voice remained steady while she maintained the appearance of a friendly Victorian woman who happened to be mildly guarded. Playing the fool too openly would have made little sense after noticing him and ordering the carriage onward without demanding help.
The man remained unnervingly still before giving what might have been the smallest possible nod.
Evelyn considered several possible meanings without settling upon any of them. Perhaps he confirmed that Nox's recommendation was trustworthy. Perhaps her decision to move the carriage had confirmed something he wanted to know about her. Perhaps the nod merely invited her to continue.
His hidden face and controlled posture provided very little to work with. Even as a Telepathist, Evelyn received no convenient flood of thoughts from him. Either his mental discipline was exceptional, his concealment affected more than sight, or nothing had risen close enough to the surface for her to catch. That uncertainty was useful in its own way.
He was cautious, physically and verbally. He had apparently observed her before allowing his presence to become known and might have been prepared to leave entirely if she failed whatever private assessment he had made. His refusal to speak first also placed the burden of disclosure upon her, whether by intention or habit.
The potion responded. Warmth shifted faintly within Evelyn's spirituality as the Telepathist potion continued digesting, but the sensation carried an accompanying thread of uncertainty. Something about the conclusion remained incomplete. She had observed the pattern, but perhaps she had assigned more intention to his silence than the evidence justified.
"I have a bit of a job that is… more complicated than I expected, and I am unsuited to the task myself." Her hands settled neatly in her lap while she considered how much of the truth would be useful. "I have… somewhat recently recovered from an illness, so physical labor does not suit me and will not for a time. Such is the reason why I intend to hire you." Her head tilted slightly as she watched him.
Sisyphus immediately recognized that the phrase physical labor was unlikely to be literal. If it were, dozens of ordinary laborers could have been hired for less than his daily cost, including men accustomed to handling dangerous or questionable work. There were also cheaper discreet options if she wanted nothing more than mundane protection.
Something else concerned him more. Eve had seen him. His concealment was not perfect, but the speed with which she recognized the disturbance suggested either a Beyonder of comparable Sequence or a lower-Sequence pathway with unusually strong perception. Nox's letter had described her as a normal human or, at most, a relatively low-Sequence Beyonder. A more experienced individual usually already possessed connections among brokers, guards, and underground gatherings. Sisyphus's posture shifted.
Evelyn caught a faint movement beneath the robes and, with it, the briefest surface impression of recalculation. The thought did not arrive clearly enough to tell her what conclusion he had reached, only that the description of illness had changed something in his assessment.
“Short-term job or a long-term contract until your health improves?” His first words contained no greeting, pleasantry, or unnecessary subject. They were direct in a manner different from Nox, stripped down rather than mechanically precise.
"Short term, most likely, unless work gets complicated, which it most likely will." Evelyn leaned against the carriage wall as she answered. The dress and corset emphasized how thin the body remained, though her breathing stayed even enough to show that the clothing itself caused no discomfort. "Thankfully, you look suitable for this job. The complications will be in the details, not in the work itself." Sunlight moved across the carriage interior as buildings repeatedly interrupted it.
"I don’t intend to share much more about the work, at least until we have come to an agreement." Her eyes appeared to wander toward the window before returning to him. Silence followed. This time Evelyn sensed no deliberate attempt to force her into filling it. His posture contained the subtle tension of someone arranging numbers and conditions before speaking, and she waited.
“Short-term, twenty-four-hour services will be 50 pounds a day, with a minimum payment equal to seven days.” Sisyphus delivered the price without apology or elaborate justification. The figures sounded like an opening position rather than an absolute demand. Small changes in his posture suggested room for negotiation, though he did not offer it explicitly. He also made no effort to repeat his qualifications or sell Evelyn upon his abilities. Either he trusted Nox's recommendation to do that work for him or believed his appearance inside the carriage had already established enough.
Evelyn paused before reaching into the small bag attached at her waist. The summer heat had collected unpleasantly inside the carriage, so she removed a fan first and opened it toward her face. The corner of her lip twitched almost imperceptibly as the moving air provided relief. Her other hand entered the bag. A thick envelope of banknotes appeared and was placed openly upon the bench beside her.
Evelyn was in no mood for negotiations. In her former life, more than one person had described her as too easy when money was involved, but she had rarely possessed enough interest in bargaining to care. Besides, the money currently being spent had not originally belonged to her.
A faint smile appeared beneath Sisyphus's hood. A client with deep pockets who did not haggle was a fortunate development. One arm emerged slowly from beneath his robe. Three fingers extended between them.
“I offer three styles of service: a friend, a guard, or a shadow. You may swap at any time.” The word friend carried a subtle tonal emphasis that made the meaning immediately clear. He did not intend genuine friendship.
The first option would allow him to behave as an ordinary companion, disguising the fact that Evelyn had hired protection. The second would make his purpose obvious to anyone who saw them, placing him nearby as a conventional guard who spoke only when necessary. The third required little interpretation after the way he had entered the carriage. A shadow would follow without appearing to follow.
"I do not like liars. A guard would be too obvious… so I suppose the last one." Evelyn looked mildly unamused as she dismissed the first option. Her gaze flickered toward a point beside Sisyphus as though someone else occupied the carriage before returning to him. She picked up the envelope and handed it across for him to count. "I have some rules for employment if you’ll hear me out." Her voice lowered slightly as she adjusted her position, layers of fabric rustling against the bench.
Sisyphus did not instinctively follow the direction of Evelyn's earlier glance. The lack of movement caught her attention. Most people turned when someone else's gaze suddenly shifted, but he appeared to suppress that reflex deliberately.
“Please continue; I’ll add my own at the end if needed.” He accepted the envelope while speaking. His fingers began moving through the bills one at a time with practiced speed.
"Firstly, actions that I perform or ask to be performed may or may not be on the less legal end of things… but such is business. I ask that such decisions not be questioned unless they threaten your own life." Evelyn crossed her legs beneath the dress while the fan snapped closed. "Secondly… I ask that you do not question who I work with or for, nor speak of them outside our arrangement." Her right hand settled upon the cushion beside her.
"I ask that you also be… polite to them, at the very least." Sunlight returned through the window, tinting the carriage interior pale yellow. "And if they ask things of you… well, I would prefer if you did not follow their instructions without my knowledge."
Sisyphus finished counting and tucked the envelope beneath his robe before nodding.
“I will serve you, with no betrayal. I won’t pry into your secrets, as you won’t pry into mine beyond asking. I will decide whether to answer. I will need an adjacent bedroom to yours to rest and prepare in. I will not interrupt any action you wish to take… however…” He leaned forward as the final word left him, his tone becoming markedly more serious.
“I require the authority to command you to retreat if you are in a situation in which I am unable to defend you.” The condition sounded closer to a demand than a request. Whatever situations he anticipated, he did not intend to accept responsibility for a client who refused to leave an engagement he considered impossible.
Evelyn's expression changed immediately.
"We will see about the bedroom. I believe the one across from mine is empty though it might need some cleaning…" She rubbed lightly at her chin while considering the manor. "And regarding authority, that won't be necessary. I trust you understand what a frail woman can and cannot take on. I have no complaints if you decide that I should step back from any form of action." Her smile was deliberate, but the sentiment beneath it was genuine. She would listen to a professional who told her a situation had exceeded his ability to protect her. She would not grant a stranger formal authority over her decisions.
The distinction appeared to satisfy him. Sisyphus leaned back, and some of the tension left his posture. A shallow surface impression brushed Evelyn's awareness before disappearing, something close to approval rather than triumph. He had not expected unquestioning obedience. Apparently he had expected enough judgment to know when advice mattered.
“When we come to a final agreement, a Notary can authenticate this contract. It will become…” Sisyphus extended a gloved hand into the space between them before closing it slowly into a tight fist.
“Binding.” The word received deliberate emphasis. Combined with the gesture, the meaning suggested consequences far more serious than an ordinary breach of contract.
He had said can, however. The process was optional.
“I know of a Notary at an anonymous Beyonder gathering I can introduce you to. I will pay the fee.” He retracted his hand beneath the robes. The context made it clear that Notary did not refer to a mundane legal profession. Evelyn had heard enough terminology during the past year to suspect either a Sequence title or a specific Beyonder ability, but not enough to understand its operation with confidence.
She hesitated, her head turning slightly toward the window as Original Evelyn stirred inside their shared mind. The other consciousness had questions of her own, and for a moment the noise of two lines of thought competed unpleasantly with the information Sisyphus was providing. Evelyn watched houses slide through fractured sunlight until she had arranged the important questions.
“How considerate of you to offer payment.” She turned back toward him with her posture still relaxed. “I would like to know what punishment follows a breach, whether the contract recognizes intent, and who determines that a term has been violated. I would also prefer that its wording be painfully specific.” Her fan opened with a quiet snap.
“If the Notary can answer those questions, I have no objection to meeting them. However, I will pay my own portion of the fee.” If a supernatural contract was going to bind her, she preferred not to enter it while financially indebted to the person arranging it.
Direct sunlight passed through the carriage window and revealed more of Sisyphus's cloak than the shadows normally allowed. The cloth was rough, with small impressions suggesting tools or objects hidden beneath the layers. Whenever the carriage passed again into shadow, the same figure seemed to lose color and depth until he nearly disappeared against the dark interior.
“I’m familiar with Notaries and can explain their effect: the perpetrator of a breach will be instantly ravaged by golden flame, either incapacitating or killing any mortal who does so, as the Eternal Blazing Sun, god of businesses, holds dominion over its pathway. Intent is recognized; accidents will not breach it. The higher power invoked to witness the transaction is the judge, most commonly the Eternal Blazing Sun, though any god would suffice.”
Sisyphus gave the explanation in considerable detail once it became clear that Evelyn did not understand the ability. His mention of the Eternal Blazing Sun carried none of the emotional resonance Evelyn had begun learning to associate with personal faith. If he worshipped the orthodox god, he concealed the reverence remarkably well.
“If the contract is invalid, it will instead burn the signature off the contract. For example, if someone sold information they knew was false.” He paused after the example, allowing the distinction between breaking a valid contract and attempting to establish one through deception to settle. “The Notary is the host of the meetings and sells his services for 5 pounds per signature. You may discuss this with him in person.” The supernatural explanation returned immediately to practical costs.
Evelyn herself worshipped no god. Her life since awakening had been consumed by surviving, learning the hidden rules of Beyonders, digesting one potion and advancing into another, and understanding enough of Lucien's world not to become completely dependent upon him. Religion had remained an unanswered subject rather than a rejected one. There would be time to decide later.
"How convenient. Well, that settles most of the concerns I might have had." Evelyn tilted her head and looked toward the window behind her. "So, where to?" She motioned toward the front of the carriage so Sisyphus could provide a destination.
“The entrance to the next meeting will be at the Clockmaker’s Pub tomorrow at 11am.” His use of entrance rather than simply naming the location caught Evelyn's attention. It suggested that the gathering itself might not consistently exist behind the same door.
“If you ever see an ad in the paper selling pies with ingredients from across the planet, the meeting will be hosted the next day at a time equal to the number of locations mentioned in the ad plus six. Usually midday.” Sisyphus explained the code as though it were perfectly ordinary.
Remember this one, Evelyn mused internally, directing the request toward Original Evelyn without allowing her expression to falter. Her other half acknowledged quietly, committing the information to the portion of memory they did not entirely share. Evelyn rapped three times against the small window. The driver immediately turned the horse down another street, and the carriage rattled slightly over the smoother cobblestones.
"I see. I will keep that in mind… You haven’t shared your name with me yet." Evelyn returned her full attention to the man opposite her.
“You may call me Sisyphus.” He brought a hand to his chest before extending it outward, palm facing upward. “What would you like to be referred to as?” The gesture gave the simple exchange a strange formality.
"I would prefer you call me Eve, though my full first name is Evelyn." Her lashes fluttered slightly as she blinked. The name Sisyphus was unusual enough that she immediately wondered whether it was genuine or merely another pseudonym used among Beyonders.
Sisyphus slowly closed the offered hand as though physically catching the name she had given him. He tucked the resulting fist back beneath his robes, and the slight easing in his posture suggested satisfaction with the exchange.
“I would like to cast a protection ritual upon you as soon as possible. It can be done here or any private room. If you are unfamiliar with ritualistic magic, I may teach it, so that you may also summon my messenger.” The offer sounded more practical than generous. A client employing him as a shadow needed a reliable means of contact if they became separated.
The Spectator pathway had provided no inherent ritual knowledge at Sequence 9, and becoming a Telepathist had not changed that. Whatever Evelyn knew had been learned through study rather than granted by the potion. The implication that another person's messenger could be summoned by anyone taught the correct ritual was therefore useful information.
She removed her hat and pushed a loose strand of auburn hair behind one ear, using the gesture to conceal a small wince. Sisyphus had given her a considerable amount of information in a short span while Original Evelyn occasionally interrupted with questions of her own. The Telepathist potion only worsened the density of the conversation whenever a stray thought or emotional structure brushed into awareness from the man opposite. Evelyn kept her expression neutral.
"Allow me to be naive for a moment, but if you are to be my shadow, do tell me what the point of a messenger is. I would assume it is for… after our contract is up?" Genuine curiosity entered the question.
“That, or if we are split apart. I may ask you to retreat on your own at some point, or a Beyonder power could separate the two of us. A simple precaution.” His explanation made practical sense.
Something remained withheld. Evelyn could not identify the missing information directly, but the emotional structure beneath his answer did not feel complete. There was another reason connected to the messenger or the protection ritual, though nothing surfaced clearly enough for her to seize.
Sisyphus had another motive as well. Offering to teach ritualistic magic made acceptance of his protection ritual easier to justify, and he considered that additional incentive useful. He had no hostile intention behind it, only the cautious preference of a professional who wanted his client protected before the work began. A trace of that intent came close enough to the surface for Evelyn to sense without obtaining the entire reasoning.
"Hm… tomorrow, before the actual job, is when I’ll allow the protection ritual. After the contract has been notarized." Evelyn smiled lightly. The answer quieted Original Evelyn's concerns almost immediately. She did not call Sisyphus out for holding something back. A working relationship built upon mutual secrecy could not begin with her demanding every unspoken motive from him simply because Sequence 8 occasionally allowed her to glimpse one. If he had more to disclose, he could do so when he chose.
Sisyphus nodded. The condition was entirely reasonable.
“Lastly, for combat, I have two suggestions: remain out of areas filled with direct light,” he said, pausing afterward long enough to make certain she understood. “And when in the most danger, snuff out the lights.” Something ominous entered his voice upon the final word. The advice contradicted ordinary instinct, but Evelyn had already watched him nearly disappear whenever the carriage passed through shadow.
“Knowledge of what you can do would be beneficial but not necessary.” The statement invited an answer without demanding one.
"The job site tomorrow is underground and quite dim." Evelyn looked mildly annoyed as she said it, the thought of the location bringing back memories she would have preferred not to revisit. She ignored the invitation to explain her own abilities. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind though." The answer supplied him with information relevant to his own fighting style without surrendering anything more.
Sisyphus leaned back after she finished. His posture relaxed enough to indicate that he had said everything necessary for the moment, though he remained willing to continue the conversation.
"Before we arrive, I live with two others. One is named Lucien, and the other is Mara. I will let you discover what type of people they both are, as I feel it would be unfair of me to spill everything before we arrive." A hint of humor entered Evelyn's voice as the carriage jumped slightly beneath them.
“Will they be additional clients to be protected? Will protection be needed from them?” The question contained no assumption beyond the practical need to define his responsibilities. People living together in a large house were not unusual.
"I doubt they will need your protection. Mara might, but… we won’t be working alongside her on the same jobs," Evelyn said casually. Large homes began passing outside the carriage as they entered a wealthier portion of the city.
Sisyphus accepted the answer and began arranging the limited information available. Mara was probably capable enough to handle herself or operated separately from Evelyn's work. Lucien, judging by the lack of concern attached to his name, was either rarely endangered or sufficiently powerful that protection would be meaningless.
The conclusions pleased him.
Whatever risks Eve intended to take outside the house, she apparently returned each night to allies capable of keeping her alive when he was not immediately present. That reduced one category of responsibility considerably.
The carriage slowed a short while later.
A well-maintained manor appeared beyond the window among several other large homes of similar age. Nothing about the building immediately distinguished it from the surrounding properties, though its unusual quiet gave the facade a strangely vacant quality. From one angle it almost resembled an oversized tavern that had somehow forgotten to admit customers.
The carriage came to a complete stop before Lucien's manor.