Before David could answer, Veylith's voice crackled urgently through the crystal: "More guards closing in from the east wing. You need to move faster!"
Another patrol appeared ahead, and again the maid's inhuman efficiency dispatched them with surgical precision. Her eyes never blinked, her movements never hesitated, like watching a machine wearing human skin.
"This feels too convenient," Salomonis murmured, though he continued following. "How are we avoiding so many patrols?"
David's headache spiked again, forcing him to pause and steady himself against the stone wall. The power suppression was growing worse with each passing minute, his carefully maintained control fraying at the edges.
Focus, he told himself. Almost there.
****
The crossroads came suddenly, Veylith's puppet standing at a junction where passages diverged. One led toward freedom, toward the palace exit and safety. The other led deeper into the palace's inner sanctum.
