The Academy Gardens were peaceful at twilight.
Fireflies drifted among the hedges.
The scent of night-blooming jasmine hung heavy in the air.
It was a world away from the Adventurer's Guild.
Marcus walked the gravel path.
He checked his pocket watch. He was on time.
He found Iris near the ancient oak tree in the center of the garden.
She wasn't sitting on the bench.
She was perched on a low branch, ten feet in the air.
Her silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall of moonlight.
She was sketching in a notebook.
"Iris," Marcus called softly.
She stopped sketching. She didn't look startled.
She simply closed the book and dropped from the branch.
She landed silently. Not a leaf crunched.
"Marcus," she said. Her voice was musical. "You are late."
"I was detained," Marcus said.
"By the Crimson Viper?" Iris asked.
Marcus sighed. "Does everyone know everything?"
"I smelled ale on your cloak," Iris said simply. "And her perfume."
She walked toward him.
