Cleora was startled and froze as soon as the maidservant put a knife to her neck.
Johamma's eyes widened with recognition and betrayal. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her authority momentarily useless against the steel at her throat.
She looked at the maidservant and the hooded figure.
The maidservant's face remained impassive as she replied, "I have no choice, my lady."
Then, she nodded to the man threatening Johamma.
With practised efficiency, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, unremarkable sphere. Jolthar's eyes narrowed, focusing on the sphere in that man's hand. It had no definite colour, nor he could tell what it was.
The man crushed the sphere between his fingers, and thick olive-coloured smoke billowed outward, engulfing them in a noxious cloud. Despite the chaos, the attacker maintained his grip on Johamma, the blade pressing dangerously against her skin.
"What is the meaning of this?" Johamma demanded, her voice cutting through the smoke.
