Sammy was engrossed in reading what turned out to be a compendium of over four hundred recipes, many featuring exotic ingredients that reflected the refined tastes of ancient Roman haute cuisine. Suddenly, the door opened, and she quickly returned the book to its place and turned toward the entrance. There stood Kayin, carrying her boots, which—much to her surprise—looked clean and polished.
"I brought your boots. They've been cleaned so you can wear them inside the house," he said coldly.
"Yes, I can see that," Sammy replied, taking them from him.
The boy was about to leave, but before stepping out, he turned back toward her.
"It would be appreciated if you didn't take anything from this room."
"What makes you think I'd want to steal anything from here?" Sammy snapped, irritated.
"Just a warning. Especially the books on that shelf—those volumes are valuable… got it?" With that, he left the room, throwing her a scornful glance before closing the door firmly behind him.
"What's his problem?" Sammy muttered, annoyed by the servant's arrogant attitude.
She grabbed one of the boots to put it on, but as she slid her foot in, she felt a ball of paper inside. Curious, she took it out and unfolded it. It had something written on it. She read: Run!
Sammy sprang to her feet, slipped on the other boot, and decided to follow the note's warning without asking questions. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. She turned to the windows and tried those—they were bolted too. Looking around for something useful, she found a letter opener on a small writing desk. She took it and began prying at the latches until they gave way. At last, she managed to open one of the windows and escape.
Meanwhile, Aunt Betty stepped out to receive the German mercenaries—the same ones who had been in Tiburón Bay to kidnap Balin—led by the albino Geist.
"It's about time you got here. What took you so long?" the witch scolded.
"Apologies for the delay. We ran into trouble on the way," replied the albino.
"Well? How did the operation go?"
"We delivered the man to Saint-Malo, to some agents we later discovered work for the Holy Office," said Geist, handing her a pouch. Aunt Betty opened it slightly for a peek: gold doubloons. She closed it and handed it to Kayin, who quickly took it to the accountant.
"And what made you think it was the damned Holy Office that requested the service?"
The Germans exchanged hushed words, mixing German and Elvish.
"Fräulein Betty," one of them said, "the brigantine that took the prisoner flew a Genoese flag. That caught our attention, so we checked the records… and found ties to mercenary fleets from Genoa that do dirty work for the Holy Office. Geist's assumption was confirmed."
The witch paused, thoughtful.
"That makes sense," she said. "Did you find out where they took him next?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"We couldn't," the albino replied. "Nor do we know why he was requisitioned."
"I think I know the reason," Aunt Betty said confidently. "I'm convinced they're after the journal his granddaughter carries."
"We didn't know he had a granddaughter…" Geist said, surprised.
Aunt Betty pressed her lips together and motioned for them to follow her somewhere more private. Once there, she gestured for them to come closer and lean in conspiratorially.
"She's in the parlor," she whispered. "Waiting for my help to find her grandfather!"
"If I may..." one of the Germans began, but Betty slapped his arm.
"Keep your voice down, you fool," she hissed.
"Sorry, Fräulein... if I may say something," the mercenary whispered.
"No, but this time I'm interested," Betty replied, folding her arms.
The German cleared his throat.
"The kidnapping by the Holy Office might be directly linked to Spain's surprise attack on Tiburón Bay. According to port gossip, the Spaniards were searching for items that once belonged to Hawk."
"Oh, come on… what's the name of that corn-haired brat?"
"Fritzka, Fräulein," Geist answered.
"Fritzka… now we're veering into conspiracy theories. It's obvious Spain attacked Tiburón Bay to reclaim the stronghold, and the Inquisition took advantage of the chaos. But one thing is clear: the girl's journal," the witch said in a hushed voice, placing her hand to her lips, "is what triggered this entire operation. And the Carioca has a few pages that seem to belong to that journal. They're tracking Balin's whereabouts… and the little brat sitting in my parlor."
"What are your orders?" Geist asked.
"Catch that brat. Then we'll go after the Carioca. Understood?"
The men nodded and quickly headed for the room. But when they entered, it was empty.
"Damn it… she escaped! How did she do it?" Aunt Betty exclaimed as the Germans rushed to the window.
The witch leaned out and pounded the windowsill in frustration.
"Damn little brat… she'll pay for this! But first…"
Aunt Betty stormed out of the room in fury, searching for Kayin, who was carrying a tray of beer mugs to some customers as instructed by the housekeeper. She lunged at him, slapped the tray from his hands—sending the mugs flying and beer splashing everywhere—and grabbed him by the collar of his lace shirt.
"You told her something, didn't you?! You warned her—I can see the betrayal in your eyes!" she shouted, shaking him violently.
"I didn't say anything, madame…" Kayin stammered, but didn't finish the sentence. The witch struck him across the face with a furious slap.
"I'll have you flogged later," she snapped, turning to the Germans, who approached, awaiting orders. "And what the hell are you all doing just standing there?"
"Awaiting your instructions, Fräulein," said Geist.
Then the witch shouted with thunderous fury, startling even the nearby guests:
"Ihr nichtsnutzigen Schurken, geht dieser Göre nach und bringt sie mir sofort zurück, verstanden?!"
(You useless scoundrels, go after that brat and bring her back to me at once, understood?!)
The Germans leapt through the window and took off in pursuit of Sammy.