Enzel drew his pen across a sheet of paper at the small table beside his wide bed, aided by the combined light of the fireplace and an oil lamp meeting somewhere in the middle of the room. Zigeunerweisen drifted from an antique gramophone on the opposite wall, its unhurried melody outlasting the storm that had grown more muffled beyond the glass. He checked his pocket watch occasionally, careful not to lose track of the hour. The furrow in his brow deepened with each stroke of the pen.
He stopped, drew a long breath, and murmured, "Still too flawed."
He folded the paper and slipped it into the drawer before rising and moving to the chair in front of the fireplace. His attention settled on a newspaper lying face-up on the low table, its headline reading: "Bloody Triangle — A Declaration?"
"Could it be that the witches genuinely intend to terrorize the Empire?"
Enzel revisited the full sequence of events unfolding within his academy. A victim without a triangular marking, found outside the garden storehouse door. Deteriorating weather. The Reichswacht commander moving swiftly to collect the preliminary investigative data. Behind the staff canteen, a second victim, this one bearing the triangle. An orchestral score prepared for performance, still waiting on players worthy of it.
"The stage has been dressed, the concert hall filled with an audience," he murmured, lifting the newspaper. "All that remains is directing the spotlight onto the players."
The gramophone carried Zigeunerweisen through the room, its single violin fading into something quieter and more plaintive. Against the fury of the storm outside, Enzel's quarters felt still. As though the room itself were reflecting something of the man within it, cold and evaluative while the terror outside ran its course. Even so, what he needed now was a more visible reaction. Wariness and fear among the academy's inhabitants were not enough.
He set the newspaper down at the sound of a knock. Hilumy entered at his word, still in uniform, several sealed envelopes in hand.
"Heil Kaiser!" she announced upon entering.
Enzel raised his right hand to shoulder height, palm facing left, then asked in a tone quiet enough to carry its own weight, "What brings you here at this hour?"
"Several letters have arrived for you, Mein Herr."
Enzel received the officially sealed envelopes while keeping his attention on his secretary.
"Sit down, warm yourself," Enzel offered, gesturing toward the chair beside the fireplace.
"Thank you, Mein Herr."
Both hands worked through the stack of letters while both blue eyes remained fixed on Hilumy. Deliberate. Measuring from head to foot. He noted something that did not fit. In the middle of a heavy storm, his secretary showed no evidence of having walked through it. Not a single piece of clothing damp, not a shoe wet, despite the considerable distance between the male and female dormitories.
"The Emperor, the Prime Minister, the Astoria household, St. Griselda Basilica, and the Reichspolizei. Something still feels absent," Enzel murmured. "Does Darjeeling suit your taste, Frau Astrea?"
"If it is no trouble to you."
He set the letters on his desk and measured out several spoonfuls of Darjeeling. Hilumy sat quietly before the fireplace, rubbing her hands together. Her eyes drifted once or twice toward the newspaper beside her.
"Is something on your mind?"
"No, Mein Herr. I was only curious about the article."
Enzel approached with a tray carrying two cups and an elegant ceramic teapot.
"What do you think of it?"
"I don't believe it falls within my authority to offer an opinion on the matter."
A thin smile formed on Enzel's face at that. He poured the tea into both cups and opened the subject of what had taken place at Stern Academy.
"Have we been in contact with the victims' families?"
"Yes, Mein Herr. They are currently staying at a hotel near the academy and have requested to meet as soon as the lockdown is lifted."
"And the press?"
"Journalists are demanding that the police release information about the case at Stern. Based on a call I received before coming here, the Reichspolizei has been pressing us to allow additional personnel inside."
Zigeunerweisen had given way almost entirely to the solo violin now, its melody climbing and falling with a sharpness that cut through the warmth of the room, causing the firelight to waver. Occasional thunder broke through between phrases. The night was quiet in the way that rooms could be quiet while the mind inside them never stopped working. Enzel catalogued every movement, every answer, every shift in the body of the woman seated across from him. Steadily, the way an orchestra dismantles silence.
"Frau Astrea!"
"Yes?"
For a fraction of a moment, Enzel caught something. Hilumy's shadow, slightly out of alignment with the figure casting it. As though what sat before him and what it was were not quite the same thing.
"Should I permit the Reichspolizei entry to assist Frau Meier in her work?"
"If you would permit my opinion, that would not be necessary."
"Oh?" Enzel set his cup down and crossed his right leg over the left.
"I believe expanding outside access would only widen the advantage held by whoever is responsible."
"Such as?"
Hilumy set her cup down, straightened in her chair, and laid out her reasoning in full. Outside access risked giving the perpetrator a channel to information beyond the academy walls, which could precipitate something far more damaging. Should that occur, Enzel's position as Academy Chief would be placed under scrutiny, and public confidence in his integrity would erode. Worse still, the propaganda framework being developed by the Emperor and elite state figures would be exposed prematurely, triggering widespread disorder.
Enzel listened without interrupting. Concrete data, worst-case projections, escalation scenarios, and the balance of public order. She had accounted for all of it. A satisfied smile spread across both cheeks.
But it was not her analysis that satisfied him.
"You show no concern for the possibility of additional victims, Frau Astrea?" Enzel held the pair of grass-green eyes across from him.
"With respect, Mein Herr, only someone without responsibility would feel no concern for the academy's inhabitants."
Hilumy caught it then. A smile that looked pleasant and meant something else entirely. Enzel, for his part, had already extracted what he needed from her responses and the way her body had carried them, the way a child receives exactly the gift they had been hoping for.
"Forgive me for taking up your rest. You may take your leave, Frau Astrea."
"Thank you for the tea, Mein Herr. Gute Nacht!" (Good evening)
The room returned to silence. Enzel rose and picked up the newspaper from the table after the door shut. Everything that had passed during that conversation had given him sufficient ground. The infiltrator was a shapeshifting creature. He had released Hilumy deliberately, to let the net fill before drawing it. What he was after was not the murderer. It was whoever had chosen Stern Academy as the stage for a nationally scaled act of terror.
"Rather than answering, you deflected. You are far too strategic for a secretary, aren't you?"
There was nothing left to extract. Every key, every door in his mapping of the witches' terror scheme was now accounted for. What remained was waiting for Glinda to finish her part. He dropped the newspaper into the fireplace, the flames catching and surging for a brief moment. He crossed to the window behind his desk and looked out to see if Hilumy's figure was visible below.
Lightning struck close enough to rattle the glass. In those few lit seconds, Enzel's blue eyes found a silhouette, a gaunt hunched human shape with arms that dragged, moving in the direction of the girls' dormitory. He was certain it was attempting to crawl back to whoever commanded it, though the heavy storm was working against it, keeping the creature from going unnoticed.
"If the public ever learned that the witches were only ever the scapegoat, how much chaos would that bring down on this Empire?"