ã€ŠTwo of Knaves [Deckbuilder]ã€‹


 1 - The Boy who Flunked Out

    1 - The Boy Who Flunked Out

    The headmaster¡¯s vestibule had an old, brass clock that slowly ticked away the seconds. I¡¯d become quite familiar with it, as I¡¯d had many occasions to visit the office these past three years at the Seekers Guild. I watched the indomitable second hand chase past the minute hand for the thirty-third time since I sat down, nursing the bruised jaw and swollen eye from my latest scuffle. Both seemed to throb in time with that second hand.

    Idly, I rifled through my Deck of Wills, feeling the familiar cards beneath my fingertips. These weren¡¯t the bloodstained suits I¡¯d been found cowering in three years ago. Those lay held in trust, awaiting my graduation to full guild reader. These were my own interpretation of the nine suits and twenty-four major arcana that made up the Deck of Wills. Thus far, I¡¯d only managed to bond with a paltry two of them¡ªmaking me one of the weakest Soul Seekers in the guild.

    The big ash door at the end of the vestibule swung open, and I narrowed my eyes at Tanlith Guifoyle, star pupil and the reason for my presently aching face. He shot me a smug look as he passed, barely failing to hide the limp where I¡¯d kicked him in the knee before he hit me with the four of spears. I might not have been able to do much with the deck, but hands and fists will sometimes trump magic, if you can get the good jump on someone.

    Sometimes. Not this time. In my defense, he was spreading rumors about me. Probably. I¡¯d seen the Sycophant arcana hanging inverted above his head. Ladder climbing, two faced, rumor mongering. The meaning for the card came unbidden in my brain¡ªdrilled through countless repetitions.

    ¡°Darcent, if you would.¡±

    I looked at the academy headmaster. The man was mystic from the ground up. Starting at the guild master¡¯s sequin-studded slippers, raising to the tip of his fluffy, white beard, and then his knees above that. By the time I reached Master Hedwins¡¯ eyes I began to sweat under the weight of his crown. The guild master always had at least three cards in his crown, and sometimes as many as five or six. And it was tough to examine them without giving myself a nosebleed. And I¡¯d already had one of those today. I peeled myself from the chair and stowed my deck.

    His office was a wide octagon, appropriate for the octogenarian. That¡¯s a word I learned in my letters class, and it meant someone who was fucking old, though the elf didn¡¯t look a day over five hundred thousand. I matched the slow, awkward shuffle of the guild master until he shot me a glare. He eased himself into his large, clawed throne of a chair and I sat on the bare bench polished by so many butts that the wood shone as if freshly oiled. A fire roared in the hearth, despite the warmth of the summer day. Layered in robes, I have to imagine that underneath, the guild master was a stick-man, made from little more than splinters.

    He leaned forward and steepled long, bony fingers over his desk. I finally brought myself to look above his head. The Lich was present, as it was with most powerful mages and scholars. But so was the Lost Child, inverted. Change, transition, discrete endings.

    Hedwin would have to be wheeled out of this academy, which meant the card wasn¡¯t about him. It was about me. ¡°You¡¯re kicking me out?¡± I demanded, rising to my feet.

    Master Hedwin looked taken aback but recovered quickly. ¡°Darcent, it¡¯s been three years since you¡¯ve come to the academy. And though you¡¯ve broken nearly every rule we have, I¡¯ve tried my best to protect you. More than I ought have done. And yes, part of that is fondness for the excitement you¡¯ve brought to these halls, and some of it is the circumstances of how you entered them. But my personal feelings aside, you¡¯ve yet to build any true talents with the deck, or the tea leaves, or the birds. And I can¡¯t have infighting among seekers. It¡¯s time to face reality, my boy.

    I pointed above his head. ¡°What about the crowns? I¡¯m the only one that can see them!¡±

    The headmaster nodded sadly. ¡°Yes, the wills do seem to speak to you directly in a strange way I¡¯ve not encountered before¡ªeven for a Soul Seeker. But how connected are you to the deck? How many of the wills have you manifested?¡±

    I sagged against the bench. ¡°Just the three of dragons and the two of knaves.¡±

    ¡°Three years, and you¡¯ve evoked only two suited cards, Darcent. And they are dragon-courted cards. One of the worst omens for a soul seeker, an omen of those who do not flourish in the guild. Case in point, most of your peers have manifested at least twice¡ªsome triple¡ªthat number. In that time, you have also connected with no major arcana and parleyed no suit masters. Most students who fail to accomplish either leave after only two years. I¡¯ve allowed you to stay for three. Despite pressure from alumni.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about Guifoyle¡¯s old man?¡±

    ¡°Lord Gillis Guifoyle is a celebrated member of this guild and an esteemed member of the community.¡±

    I raised a finger. ¡°Wasn¡¯t he also one of Margot Bethane¡¯s lieutenants? You know, the crazy witch whose blood they found me in?¡±

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    Master Hedwin sat back. ¡°Nearly a third of the mages in Dragonmaw sided with the Fel Witch at one point or another. The general amnesty forgave those transgressions under such times of duress.¡±

    I crossed my arms. ¡°Uh huh. And the fact the City¡¯s new dueling arena is named Guifoyle Stadium has nothing to do with it, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°Contributions from alumni are tradition¡ªDarcent, this is not about the Guifoyle boy! Nor the scuffles you two insist on dragging yourselves into. It¡¯s about your nature, your future, and the truth. The truth has ever been and shall be the primary concern of seekers. You have your deck, yes?¡±

    I produced it, holding the thick pack of carved wooden tiles.

    ¡°You think you belong in the guild academy, yes? Fancy yourself not just a seeker, but a Soul-Seeker? Then do a reading for me. Here and now.¡±

    I gulped and undid the binding on my Deck of Wills. ¡°Uh, three cards, I think,¡± I said, feeling the recalcitrant cards wiggle underneath the weight of my will. I charged them with what power I could muster, bringing the two halves of the deck apart and shuffling them. One card popped out, landing face-up on the table. Master Hedwin raised an eyebrow at me.

    ¡°The, uh, two of streams,¡± I said, staring at the card. ¡°Strong bonds with your community¡­ which makes sense, uh, headmaster.¡±

    I could tell he was unimpressed. I cut the deck twice, stacking the wills and putting them on Master Hedwin¡¯s desk. I passed my hand over top. Two cards shot off, not flipping, but spinning like tiny thrown daggers. One lodged in the portrait of a previous headmaster. The other, vibrated from the pylon of Master Hedwin¡¯s high-backed chair. His eyes slid to the side, regarding the card. I leaned over to see its face.

    ¡°Um¡­ Balance. Trades made in-kind, and good matches.¡±

    Rather than try anything fancy, I reached on the top of the deck and plucked the last card. Before I could flip it, the deck toppled, spilling one more card face-up next to the two of streams: The four of towers.

    ¡°Protection of ones self, immunity, freedom from culpability,¡± I finished. I didn¡¯t put them together. I didn¡¯t need to. The cards had wills that seemed to outstrip my own.

    Master Hedwin sighed and held his hand flat above his desk it twitched toward a book on the corner, but settled over the cards. The deck¡ªmy deck, buzzed with potential. The cards pulled themselves from the desktop, his chair, and the portrait, stacking themselves neatly under his fingers. With a twitch of his finger, the deck split six ways and reconstituted itself. He took hold and performed a manual shuffle as well. For all his age, his elven fingers had lost none of their strength or dexterity. Finally, he made three cuts. Having performed the rites, the top three cards turned over, revealing the one of dragons (self preservation), the Gambler inverted (misfortune, failure of a sure thing), and the Piper of Ways, also inverted (wrong paths taken).

    The gulf between our readings couldn¡¯t be wider. Each of the three cards resonated with Hedwin¡¯s call. He¡¯d been a master many times longer than I¡¯d been alive.

    I whistled. ¡°I guess that¡¯s it, then.¡± I sat back and ran a hand through my hair. ¡°I¡¯ll probably become a petty crook now. Or an unusually handsome male prostitute.¡±

    ¡°I believe they prefer the term sex worker, these days.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow at the guild master.

    Master Hedwin sighed and smiled to himself. ¡°Contrary to popular belief among the student body, the faculty, and most of the guild elders, I do occasionally leave the comfort of the academy, Darcent.¡± he chuckled, rifling through my Deck of Wills in a way oddly reminiscent of the idle habit I had, myself. ¡°I lived a full life before ever I entered these halls, by the measure of you humans, anyway.¡± He took a moment and examined the faces of the cards. He looked thoughtful for a moment. ¡°You carved and inked these yourself?¡±

    I nodded.

    He tapped his cheek, the way all elves seemed to do. ¡°This are well portrayed iconography, Darcent Hmm¡­ Perhaps there is a way for you to remain in the guild. We may have need of a new artist soon for the novices. Acolyte Drella saw Master Geldrid¡¯s fall in her tea leaves.¡±

    ¡°I know, I was there.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Forget the tea leaves, he took out the whole gods-damned table!¡±

    ¡°Language, Darcent,¡± said Hedwin, but he was trying not to chuckle himself. Oddly, I felt like a wall had come down, with my imminent expulsion. The guild master had always been cold and aloof as the headmaster of acolytes. But now that I no longer was one, he seemed less, I don¡¯t know, mythical. The whole place did.

    I sighed and considered his offer. It was a good deal, really. Carving cards for the novice readers? I could do worse. But I also thought of Tanlith Guifoyle¡¯s smug, punchable face and twistable elf ears. The personal hell of watching him and others get even stronger while I carved faces in lacquer? Watching others do what I had failed to achieve? I didn¡¯t have the stomach for it.

    ¡°If it¡¯s all the same, Master Hedwin, I think I¡¯d prefer the brothels. I¡¯ll make my own way.¡±

    The guild master relaxed, as though worried I might pounce across the table at him. Slowly, and with a great creaking of joints, he pushed himself upright and shuffled over to his safe. Inside, he withdrew two items, held in trust for me since the day I joined the guild. The first was the Deck of Wills that had been soaked in the blood of Margot Bethane. Now that I was attuned, I could tell they practically buzzed with power. Her malignant magical blood had infused the deck with her dark, otherworldly designs.

    I¡¯d supposedly used that deck to murder her. Though I had only a vague recollection of the events from that night. Either way, it was far too powerful an artifact for me to handle, now that I¡¯d opened my sensitivities to the wills. It felt like it wanted to bite me as I slid it across the table.

    The other item in the safe was an old, tarnished kitchen knife. Of the two, I was more dangerous with the latter, if we¡¯re to be honest. It could at least give someone lockjaw.

    ¡°Please leave your robes with the seamstress on your way out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to do that,¡± I lied.

    ¡°Now, please excuse me, I have correspondence to answer.¡± Master Hedwin looked over his desk, then under it. ¡°Have you seen a silver letter opener?¡±

    ¡°No, Master Hedwin.¡±

    It was currently in the pocket of the robe I had no intention of returning, along with the rare book on tarot practice that I¡¯d swiped from the corner of the desk while Master Hedwin was buried in the safe. If I wasn¡¯t going to be a prostitute¡ªsorry sex worker, I figured I better get a leg up on being a good crook.

 2 - Dragon-Courted

    2 ¡ª Dragon-Courted

    I took my leave of the office and headed for the gates of the academy. I had few goodbyes to make. I¡¯d not made many friends in the Soul Seekers Academy, and those I had were eventually turned by Tanlith Guifoyle. Not even having ended a war between sorcerers that could have consumed all of Dragonmaw and lands beyond had freed me from the petty bullying of idle, small-minded highborn. At least these posh upper city brats weren¡¯t as hard as the street gangs that terrorized my younger years. A black eye and swollen lip would have been the least of it.

    Tanlith Guifoyle waited without, giving me a smug grin over a reading. He already knew what had transpired.

    ¡°You never belonged here,¡± he said.

    I had no answer. He was probably right. High and wide as these halls were, I found them more stifling than the claustrophobic alleys and warrens of the middle city. Despite how much the highborn tried to white-wash the grime and soot stains, it was merely a thin veneer of civility. The towers and avenues of the upper city were every bit as cruel as the narrow alleys and nights full of knives in the lower parts of Dragonmaw. It only served to disguise the fact that the only thing separating the upper city from the rest of us was lots and lots of silver.

    Tanlith followed me out, continuing to taunt me as he spun his deck. He was trying to bait me. I fingered the stolen book and the bloody cards under my robes. He was trying to bait me into attacking him again¡ªnow that I was no longer protected by the guild. Truth told, I was half-tempted to indulge him. But he¡¯d already thrashed me once, today. I wasn¡¯t keen to give him a second opportunity. I felt a weight lift as I realized I would no longer be mired in the petty school rivalries that seemed to fester within these ancient elven walls. He soon lost interest.

    I left the school with little more than the deck, the knife, and the clothes on my back, and looked at the open city before me. The Seeker¡¯s Guild sat on a bluff in the northeast corner of the city, looking to the west over the bay. Sun glittered on the sea, and lit the masts and drawn sails of hundreds of ships in the port with its light through the sungate. The sudden sense of freedom was astounding¡ªno classes, no exams, no expectations. For the first time, I was free from all obligation. I let my feet point where they may, and set off through the streets, hood up against the sun.

    My stomach growled.

    I halted for a moment. I was also penniless.

    That¡¯s not a great combination in a city already looking to swallow you up. Barely mid morning, I¡¯d soon be sitting down for the luncheon with the other novices, had I not flunked out of the guild. Couldn¡¯t Master Hedwin have waited until after my next meal? I looked about. The businesses in the upper city catered to the upper crust of the city¡¯s highborn and merchant classes. Hells, Upper Crust was even the name of the sign hanging above a bakery catering to the wealthier students outside the guild academy. A bakery I¡¯d never be able to afford. I had a book and a letter opener I could sell, but not here. Not in the upper city. I¡¯d lose a hand, or worse.

    The upper city catered only to the well-to-do of Dragonmaw. A good portion of that fantasy was pretending the rest of us didn¡¯t exist. I¡¯d managed only on the graces of a guild interested in my magical potential that had, thus far, proved reluctant to manifest. If I wanted a chance of finding anything in my price range (and, to think of it, if I wanted enough coin to have a price range), I had to make my way down to the docks. The only sure-fire way to get some copper clips in my pocket was hard, filthy, detestable labor. Moving freight, gutting fish, or¡ª

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    ¡°Are you a seeker?¡±

    I shook myself out of my idle thoughts. ¡°What?¡±

    The man before me was best described as a dangerous fop. Very fashionable, this one, in doublet, blouse, and slippers with a long leather jacket trimmed with red patterns and a house crest I didn¡¯t recognize. But he also had a rapier buckled to his belt, and the hilt looked burnished with practice. I had to be careful, here. He wrung his hands. ¡°It¡¯s just, you¡¯ve got the robe and you¡¯re holding the deck. I was just headed to the guild. I need a reading, please.¡±

    ¡°A reading?¡±

    ¡°Of the wills. You are a seeker, are you not?¡± he asked. He gestured to my robes.

    I looked over his head. Skein, inverted. Trapped, lack of alternatives.

    The guild came down harshly on unlicensed wills readers, especially ones that styled themselves seekers. A highborn wouldn¡¯t take kindly to being swindled, either. He would be well within his rights to gut me on the spot, leaving me little more than a corpse and a red stain to be whitewashed with the rest of the unpalatable grime. I glanced down toward the bay. Freight was at least honest. And safe.

    Silver coins flashed. ¡°I have money,¡±

    My stomach growled again. ¡°One of the best,¡± I said, turning away from the docks and brandishing my deck. I gestured off to the alley, away from prying eyes and out of sight of the few soldiers that patrolled the upper city in the wake of Bethane¡¯s decimation. ¡°This way.¡±

    The suit of knaves thrummed in my hand. I missed a step. What had that been?

    The fop glanced back. ¡°I haven¡¯t got all day, you know!¡±

    ¡°Coming, sir!¡± I said. I pushed into the alley behind him and flipped over an empty barrel for a table and sat on an upturned bucket. I undid the ribbon on my deck and began shuffling. ¡°I can do one card, three cards, or five cards,¡± I said.

    The fop put two silver cunnings on the top of the barrel.

    ¡°One card it is.¡±

    Two more silver cunnings joined it.

    ¡°Three cards it is.¡±

    I cleared my throat and infused my will on the deck as I added as much pomp as I thought possible without cracking. ¡°What¡¯s your conundrum, my good man?¡±

    ¡°My business partner and I, I fear we may have overextended our capital when we commissioned a cargo voyage to Azurenon. The Spirit of Contention. Can you tell me when they¡¯ll arrive?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°The wills don¡¯t tell the future. They only reveal the truth in the present. Seekers interpret them to offer guidance, or call on them in times of need.¡±

    The fop nodded along. He¡¯d sat on the cobbles, and his knees were up by his square chin. ¡°Can you tell me how they fare, then? The sailors?¡±

    I infused my will on the deck. Probably at the bottom of the ruddy ocean, I thought to myself. The seas between the Bastard¡¯s navel and his pointy socks were notoriously dangerous¡ªespecially in summer. You didn¡¯t need to be a fortune teller to know that. Growing up in the downs had put me in company with many sailors.

    I shuffled and cut the deck. The fop watched the levitating cards, mystified as they rearranged themselves and settled back on the barrel. Then I swiped my fingers, and willed three cards from the top, praying they wouldn¡¯t fly off. Miraculously, they didn¡¯t! I was so busy marveling that I¡¯d managed to call a proper reading that I forgot to look at the cards until the fop prompted me.

    Three of knaves, the wall of storms inverted, and the gambler, inverted. The three of knaves was a card that suggested the captain had spun a falsehood, while the wall of storms inverted suggested the captain hadn¡¯t got far from his own troubles. And the gambler? Well, I doubted the captain would be making it to Azurenon, or land, again, for that matter.

    The fop looked at me across the cards, expectantly. I¡¯ve spent so much time around other acolytes, it took me a moment to realize he had no idea what his reading meant.

    ¡°They¡¯re doing great!¡± I assured him.

    He tipped me another cunning before he left.

    That had been... profitable. And easier than I¡¯d expected. The robes went a long way towards the appearance of legitimacy.

    As I collected the cards, my fingers brushed the three of knaves. as they did, I locked up, seizing as a jolt of lightning felt as though it had forced its way up my arms. I hissed steam and looked down. I¡¯d just bonded with the three of knaves. My first new card in over a year. My connection to the wills grew ever so slightly stronger.

    I couldn¡¯t believe it. On the day I get kicked out. The very same day.

    Apparently, this whole time, all I had to do to bond with more cards was cheat.

 3 - The Three of Knaves

    3 ¡ª The Three of Knaves

    Before we go any further, you ought know a bit about Dragonmaw. It¡¯s the largest city on the Crooked Spine Bastard Vomiting (which is what you get when you let orcs name a continent, of course), nestled right at the Bastard¡¯s naval in the Sungate. It¡¯s about two weeks south of Kalash by the salt road, and boy did the golden elves probably wish it had been further.

    You see, even though this overcrowded town is packed in tighter than sea rations, nearly a quarter of the city is completely uninhabited¡ªby the noble races, at least. That¡¯s because when the orcs finally came down from the cauldron and chased the golden elves into the sea (some of them might have even had boats under ¡®em), they unsheathed glow steel swords at four points in the city: once in the upper city, once in the middle city, and twice in the downs. Quick as spit, the elves were dead or gone. So fast, even, that their ghost dragon gods still twisted in the air above the city each night, looking for their lost kits among the bustle.

    To this day, the Unsheathings still carry the glow-steel sickness. You don¡¯t go deep into the unsheathings without powerful constitutional spells or paladins. Unless you¡¯re an orc, who are immune to the sickness and the only ones who live in the unsheathings. You also don¡¯t linger within them (or the undercity) without some serious muscle.

    Which made my destination foolish on two counts. But I had to see for myself.

    I made my way down from the heights, through Queen¡¯s Reach, south past the caravan fields, and to the edge of the first unsheathing. Now, people might not make their homes in the burnt husks of the elven structures, but beasties and monsters aren¡¯t quite so clever. The sickness takes them all, eventually. But first, it twists ¡®em, drives ¡®em mad. Master Hedwin once explained to me that the glow-steel sickness breaks down what makes you you. Your body forgets how it¡¯s supposed to go together. The adventurer¡¯s guild sends tin and bronze-ranked initiates to the outskirts to cut their teeth and cull any beasties that get the notion that people make for good eating.

    That was the same reason I headed to the outskirts, on the lookout for a minor monster to try the card on. The cards manifest a little bit different for each soul seeker. I¡¯d already had the three of dragons, which was a spell that could bolster my stamina and awareness. Ironically, using it was both exhausting and distracting. Go figure. But that would change (I hoped) as I became more in-tune with the suit of dragons, which now seemed slightly less of an insurmountable precipice.

    The two of knaves, the blade, was a straightforward shimmer of shadow that keened the cutting edge of any weapon, making it beyond razor sharp. But, the enchantment dulled quickly if it encountered metal or really hardened defenses of any kind. It would be fantastic if I could get around to an enemy¡¯s rear and hit where armor was thinnest. But having no friends, everyone I¡¯ve ever fought focused solely on keeping their front towards me. It could also work on your hand, in a pinch. But honestly, knives are so practical, why would you not carry one?

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    I wasn¡¯t sure how the three of knaves, the shadow would work for me. The card dealt in deception and misdirection, so maybe it would let me sneak up on unsuspecting beasties and actually use the lower-suited two of knaves.

    I trawled the outskirts, circling east and not daring to venture deeper. I finally found what I was looking for in the form of something I think used to be a cat, but had grown an extra set of claws and teeth. It¡¯s fur was mostly fallen out on its left side, and weeping sores dripped ichor on the cobbles. It had something clutched in its mouth. A rodent, I assumed at first. But when it turned its head, I realized two things at once. The first was that some poor lady had lost her dog. The second, was that this cat was much bigger than I initially realized.

    I swallowed, stepping lightly. I¡¯d honestly be doing the city a public service, but this suddenly seemed like a very bad idea. At least the cat wasn¡¯t wearing armor. With my left hand, I fanned out the Deck of Wills and connected immediately with the two of knaves. A black edge gleamed on my knife, dripping shadow on the cobbles.

    I saw the cat¡¯s ears twitch, and I froze. It whipped its head around and stared at me, droppings its prize to hiss and spit. Its back arched, and it¡¯s tail puffed out at least three times the size. Hell, so much for surprise.

    I dashed at the little beastie as I pushed my will into the three of knaves. The cards spun around me, and I felt my energy drain into the deck. But I felt no different and certainly saw no change. The cat pounced, and I ducked, but needn¡¯t have bothered.

    The feline soared through the air, claws and teeth flashing¡ªat a Darcent-shaped shadow mid stride behind me. It didn¡¯t move. It just hung in the air. But it fascinated the cat, who had turned its furry behind toward me. Amazing. A shadow facsimile to deceive others. The possibilities were endless, but right now I was only interested in one. I angled my knife up and prepared to strike down.

    Before I could slam my knife home, my focus on the deck wavered, my connection with the three of knaves snapped, and the shadow disappeared. The thing about cats, is that they are made with equal parts lightning and hatred for humanity. This one, being no different, immediately turned and latched on to my knife arm with claws and teeth.

    I shouted, trying to shake the little bastard loose as it clawed and bit at my arm, drawing blood and turning my sleeve to so much black ribbon. I punched it, but it continued its assault. Desperate, I flooded my will into the two of dragons, the thirst, briefly calling on constitution above my limit, but calling three cards in such quick succession made my head hurt almost as much as my arm.

    I shook frantically, spinning in circles and eventually tripping over loose detritus. As soon as I hit the cobbles, the cat was off and yowling as it ran back into the unsheathing.

    I don¡¯t know what part of me thought that had been a good idea. Punching above my weight class seemed to include feral, mutated cats. Go. Figure. Keep to cheating gullible buggers out of their silver.

 4 - New Lease, Same Rats

    4 - New Lease, Same Rats

    Even though I¡¯d lost some blood, along with most of my dignity, having silver in my pocket salved the wound on my pride from being thrashed twice in one day. Five cunnings won¡¯t go that far in the upper city. But Dragonmaw is a big place. It¡¯s got humans, like me, who are suspicious of the devilborn (or plane-touched, if you want to be politically correct). The devilborn look down on the dwarves, and the dwarves hold some grudge against the drakkyn. Drakkyn resent the half-orcs, and the half-orcs, like their full-blooded cousins, aren''t fond of full-blooded humans (when they aren¡¯t mating with them to make more half-orcs). The one thing they can all agree on is that none of them like elves. Barrowdown is the district where they all get together to gamble on which race can beat the tar out of each other the best.

    I¡¯d been to a few of the fight pits as an acolyte, despite all the downs being off limit. Coin changes hands around the circle. A lot of it. Dragons above, I¡¯d traded a few clips myself.

    With all the noise, the smells, and the constant violence, Barrowdown has the cheapest rent in Dragonmaw. And that¡¯s not even counting the pits. Far more blood is shed outside the circles than in. Dragonmaw is a city of long knives and dark alleys. The city has few soldiers left after the reign of terror and trail of broken bodies Margot Bethane left in her wake. And if they know what¡¯s good for them, they stay in the upper city protecting the wealthy that keep their pockets properly lined.

    Patrolling the lower city is left to the low ranked tin and bronze adventurers who couldn¡¯t hack it in the undercity where the real threats money was made. Myriad horrors still kicked around the extensive underground ruins, catacombs, and tunnels that made up the undercity, or Dragonmaw¡¯s various incarnations over the ages. Even my mother, who couldn¡¯t describe the sound of two coppers rubbing together, refused to bring us next door to Barrowdown.

    The streets were so narrow as to have never seen a horse, let alone a carriage. But plenty of shit still ran in the runnels. A vague smell of fetid filth hung in the air like a miasma. Unlike the upper city, which looked down from the bluff, you could only smell the sea, never spot it from the cramped confines. Also unlike the undercity, the grey walls had never seen a speckle of paint. The stains from soot and smoke stood loud and proud where they weren¡¯t lathered in graffiti in six different languages. Laborers, foreign sailors, thieves, drunks, gamblers, and adventurers pushed past each other, dappled by the light filtered through dozens of drying lines strung between the second stories. I spotted a squad of drakkyn pistoliers with large packs headed for an undercity ingress walk by a pack of urchins looking for purse strings to cut. They were batted away by a clutch of drunks, coming home from the pits flush with silver, less what they¡¯d spent celebrating their good fortune. The drunks passed their opposites, huddled in the gutter, penniless and destitute.

    All of them, even blinded by jaded eyes and stoic cynicism, gave me curious looks as I passed in my pilfered robes. These peoples¡¯ lives were full of uncertainty, and yet they never could have afforded the services of a guild seeker at guild rates, even if one stooped to visiting the downs.

    It was the perfect place to set up my unsanctioned seeker¡¯s shop.

    Two of those silver pieces got me a week in a room above an unscrupulous money-changer (as if there¡¯s any other kind). Barely more of a closet, really. But it had its own steps and an unbroken shutter, which I quickly broke. I needed the wood. Not for the hearth, which had more ash than Kalash had orcs. Not to shore up the wobbly cot, either, with the mattress I had a sneaking suspicion was stitched together from giant rat hides.

    What meager belongings I had all fit behind a loose brick in the hearth. In went my emergency fund: two silver cunnings. I thought about it for a minute, and then took them back out. My situation was enough of an emergency already. I did put in the blood-soaked Deck of Wills and the rusty knife. Then, I set to work.

    I¡¯d done a bit of shopping after seeing to my bleeding. Master Hedwin¡¯s letter opener only fetched me an extra half cunning because only the wire hilt had been real silver. But that was still enough to get some bread, ale, a small pot of paint, and a few smoked fish that probably hadn¡¯t seen a fire since spring. The book, I kept. It turned out to be a rare, banned treatise on alternate soul-seeking philosophies. Master Hedwin should have known better than to have it on his desk.

    With those, and the displaced shutter, in hand, I started carving a sign. I wanted to do it right. I only had the one shutter, after all. So, I took my time. The light through the open window shifted to gold, to orange, to the wane ghost light of the dragons. But that¡¯s when Barrowdown really comes alive.

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    Rather than getting quieter, I began hearing cheers filter in through the open window. Nothing like a little darkness to shroud the ill tastes of unsavory men and women looking for a little blood on the sand. I put the finishing touches on my sign and stood back.

    Fortunes read in the Deck of Wills

    -Odds, favors, and pitfalls-

    Seeker¡¯s Guild trained

    10 clips per draw, 1, 3, or 5

    Inquire above

    Of course, guild training was a far cry from an endorsement. And if anyone from the Seekers actually made their way down to the lower city, they wouldn¡¯t take kindly to my sign or my business. But they¡¯d have to explain to the guild what they were doing down here in the first place. It was strictly against guild law to perform readings on the outcomes of games of skill and chance alike. Naturally, I¡¯d spent a great deal of my free time in places like this. Mostly because I grew up in places like this. And I knew most people in the lower city wouldn¡¯t know the difference between a guild initiate seeker and a rogue fortune teller. But I figured I¡¯d better keep a tight lid on the fact that I wasn¡¯t just a seeker, but a soul seeker, a mage who could draw power from the Deck of Wills.

    I carried my sign down to the street and leaned it against the steps. Then, I leaned next to it, rifling through the deck of cards. And waited. It was no accident, setting up next to a money-changer. People came here to make small change for the pit betting, or more rarely, to turn their winnings into something easier to carry. While this wasn¡¯t the only money changer in Barrowdown, it did have the highest fees and a known slant for shaving silver. Which meant only the most desperate, disreputable gamblers would come by here. Ones that had no compunctions over using a little divine guidance to grease their chances.

    It wasn¡¯t long before one took notice. Big half-orc bastard with a flat nose and fingerless gloves. His jacket was old, too small, and torn at the hem. This one might have seen the inside of a pit or two himself, but his limp likely took him out of it. Above his head, the major arcana of the banker floated, inverted. Overextension, burnt bridges, blind to danger.

    ¡°You can tell me who¡¯s going to win a fight, then?¡± he said. ¡°Like, see the future?¡±

    ¡°Seekers don¡¯t see the future,¡± I said. No lie, that time. ¡°We¡¯re not fate weavers. But we reveal things others cannot. About yourself, about others. Come upstairs.

    He grunted, fingering his coin purse. ¡°Ten clips a draw. What¡¯s that?¡±

    I spun the deck between my hands. He eyed the deck, floating in the air. ¡°A simple draw is one card, but to get a better picture, it¡¯s better to do three or five draws.

    I could see the indecision on his face and offered my sincerest smile. ¡°How about this: half-price, if you¡¯ll tell a friend.¡±

    ¡°Deal!¡± he said, fishing out a handful of coppers. I held my hand up to the top of the stairs. For certain, this was a tenth of what I¡¯d gotten in the upper city. But I had to start building a presence here and a regular clientele. Not too big of one, because I still needed to fly under the guild¡¯s radar. But enough to keep a steady flow of coin pouring into my purse.

    I closed the door behind us and offered a chair at the overturned barrel that served for my table. I put a clay cup on the edge.

    ¡°Put the money in the cup.¡±

    I counted five plunks of copper in the cup, and then spread the deck out.

    ¡°Tell me, o¡¯ wills. Will this man find fortune tonight?" With a flick of my fingers, it began to shuffle, and then cut itself. I hadn¡¯t slept yet, and my fatigue had mounted. Before I could stop it, my focus slipped for just an instant. Unbidden, a single card ejected and spun upright on the table. Damn. I was hoping I was past those flubs. We both looked at the card. The four of streams. Well, that wasn¡¯t helpful. That could mean that he was healthy and hale, or that his bladder was full. I¡¯ve never been good at reading streams. The meanings are too windy. But I already knew what I was going to say before I shuffled.

    ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡± he asked, filthy finger probing the card.¡±

    ¡°It says you¡¯re out on a limb. You¡¯re over extended and desperate, and looking to dig yourself out in the pits. But pits only ever get deeper. Things will get worse. Make no bets tonight. The odds are not with you.¡±

    He looked at me skeptically and picked up the card. ¡°All that from just the one?¡±

    All that from the magic burning card on your forehead that only I can see. ¡°Yep.¡±

    He scowled. ¡°Didn¡¯t tell me nuffin¡¯ what I didn¡¯t know already. Nothing but a scam, this is,¡± he said, reaching for the clay cup with his five copper clips¡ªmy five copper clips. Something in the deck buzzed as I saw him reach for that paltry sum. With my left hand, I pulled the three of dragons from the deck and activated it. With my right, I seized his wrist. The three of dragons didn¡¯t just lend strength and stamina, it made my palms near scalding hot. Not enough to actually burn someone, but enough to give them a bit of a shock. The effect was enhanced by my eyes turning to the slit-pupils of a lizard. The half-orc recoiled, shouting in surprise, but I didn¡¯t let go.

    ¡°What was paid was paid. Heed my warning and go.¡±

    My first customer scrambled away, overturning his chair in his haste to exit my little parlor. I got up and followed him to the door as he scrambled down the stairs. I waved after him. ¡°And remember our deal, be sure to tell your friends!¡±

    I watched him jog down the cobbles by the light of the oil lamps, glancing back at me.

    A half dozen copper clips wouldn¡¯t make me rich, but it was a start. I settled back on rat-bed and thumbed through my deck. I wanted to know why now, of all times, the deck had decided to open up to me again.

    The deck buzzed in my hands. If I didn¡¯t know better I¡¯d say it felt contented.

 5 - Setting up Shop

    5 - Setting up shop

    I sat back on rat-bed with the book I¡¯d stolen from Master Hedwin. Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills, it was called.

    When first I was admitted to the Seekers Guild, my sole drive was preventing another disaster like the one brought on by Margot Bethane. But over the last three years, we¡¯d read books like this cover to cover. Books that said seekers couldn¡¯t read the future¡ªor change it. At least, not any more than any individual could.

    Any adherent of Skein will happily tell you how solid the future isn¡¯t. They¡¯ll go on and on about what a tangled mess causality is until the loom mistress sorts it all out for us. Bunch of religious hooey.

    At first glance, the book seemed no different. Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills was about as mundane a title as you could get. But as I sat cross-legged on rat-bed thumbing through it, my eyebrows began to rise. The book I¡¯d stolen outlined advanced theory on working soul-seeker magic with the cards with some very controversial deviations from prescribed guild doctrine. No wonder it had been banned. It claimed, among even more outlandish things, that the cards were little wooden windows to other worlds, and that the reason the wane dragons didn¡¯t sap their magic was because that magic didn¡¯t originate with us. It also had some interesting things to say about both the suit of knaves, and the suit of dragons. I saw several chapters on both, as well as one discussing dragon-courted individuals.

    Master Hedwin had been telling the truth, then. No other student at the academy had the twinned suits of knaves and dragons. He¡¯d been reading this very book as he considered my fate.

    What no book had yet explained was why some people could tap into the magic of the Wills. Some, like most seekers, could only work fortunes. And most people couldn¡¯t even do that. Soul Seekers were even more rare. Of course, no one really knew why one person had the potential for wizardry while others didn¡¯t, or why a pious man might gain favor and a measure of power from the gods, or what caused a child to be born plane-touched with the power to tunnel portals to other planes, or wilds-marked. Books didn¡¯t explain why some warriors manifested techniques beyond the power mortal bodies should hold, or how some could twist elements.

    Why should the Wills be any different? What I¡¯m really saying is that while the book was interesting, if the answer to my problem was in a book, I probably would have found it years ago. I snapped the covers close and slid it under the mattress.

    I held up my hand and called the deck to me. It shot off the table and flew in seventy-four different directions. That¡¯s how many cards there are in the deck, Divided into twenty-four major arcana spread across the table and bed, and ten suits of five cards scattered across the floor and hearth. I sighed at the mess. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Real funny.¡±

    Stooping to sweep them out from the nooks and crannies they¡¯d found, I continued to ponder. For the Soul Seekers with the gift of Wills, each could potentially master four of the ten suits. That was another thing no one knew: why every adept was limited to at most four. While I hadn¡¯t mastered either, I¡¯d touched both the suit of dragons, led by the Heiress, and the knaves, led by the Court. I wondered if I might touch another, and which of the eight remaining it might be. Probably not peaks or petals. I¡¯d never been much for nature, and you couldn¡¯t exactly call me overly ambitious.

    I hoped it wouldn¡¯t be the suit of demons or the suit of storms as I swept them into the pile. Both were indicators of a dangerous, chaotic life and a short life span. But I didn¡¯t even consort with devilborn if I could help it, let alone actual demons.

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    The suit of lances I found unlikely. I picked up the four of lances. Tanlith Guifoyle had hit me with this in the courtyard before I¡¯d been kicked from the guild. I hadn¡¯t been able to get close to him. He¡¯d damn near flattened me, and some of the other students thought he¡¯d mastered the suit and manifested the Knight of Lances. Lances were associated with nobility and valor. If you think that¡¯s me, then you haven¡¯t been listening at all.

    I collected the last of the cards and squared them off, before returning to sit on the bed and shuffling them out of habit. Far more likely that, if I could access any more suits, it would be towers, ways, or streams. Having lived through Margot Bethane¡¯s reign of terror, and her subsequent death, I had a general desire to protect the world from having to go through that again. But that desire was still rooted in self-preservation, and that was knaves all the way down. Ways was the suit of those who know where they stood or where they ought to be going. Streams could be possible. I¡¯d never been much for healing arts, but I could go with the flow.

    I meditated a bit on my new card, the three of knaves. Despite my abysmal showing at the unsheathing, the uses for a shadow clone were wide and varied. The fact that it was a rooted image of me wasn¡¯t ideal, but it could still be used to distract an enemy, create a temporary diversion, or even pass information. It would work well with the two of knaves, letting me get behind for a strike at their back. But it didn¡¯t solve the problem of me having to get close to danger.

    As much as I didn¡¯t fancy the suit of lances, the usefulness of its ability to attack from a distance couldn¡¯t be overstated. Maybe something in the suit of dragons would help with that¡ªif I could unlock it. I¡¯d felt the suit resonate when I stopped the street tough from taking back his coppers.

    As an experiment, I stood from the bed and spread the cards in the air before me. They cycled, twisting around in a single circle as I infused both the three of dragons and the three of knaves. Combining the cards took every ounce of my concentration, but I stepped forward and pushed my will into both cards. They spun from the wheel and hovered before my hand while my will flowed into them.

    I regarded the shadow clone that sprang from the card, the clone which had taken on a yellow, wavering haze. Even from several steps away, I could feel the heat radiating off of it. Well, that was like a ranged spell. That opened even more possibilities, but just the act left me exhausted.

    Magic¡ªeven card reading¡ªis much harder to do at night in Dragonmaw, thanks to the ghost dragon gods of the golden elves. They conquered the shadow veldt and the good beasts under that light, sapping the magic of their foes. Well, look where that had got them. But evoking the cards was somehow immune.

    The apparition winked out after just barely longer than before. The extra stamina granted by the three of dragons had gone into the clone, siphoned directly out of me. I looked at the floor.

    ¡°Shit, shit!¡±

    Two smoldering footprints had been charred on the wooden beams.

    I heard a fist thump on my door, and my first instinct was panic, believing it to be the money changers asking why their ceiling was burning. But when I opened the door, it was the flat-nosed half-orc again with a pair of friends. One was taller, maybe enough to pass for full-blood. The other was a woman, with thick arms under torn-off sleeves. He¡¯d brought muscle. I took a step back, ready to try and repeat my trick with the smoldering clone while I went for the window. But the flat-nosed green skin laughed and clapped me on the shoulders.

    ¡°You were right!¡± he claimed. ¡°I was going to place a bet, on what I thought was a sure thing. But I remembered your warning, and I couldn¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°And what happened?¡± I asked, shoulders aching from what passed for friendly blows among the half-orcs.

    ¡°My fighter lost! Went down in the third round to a shot in the gut! I¡¯d have lost everything!¡±

    I tried not to look at the card above his head as I grinned. It hadn¡¯t changed. Soul seekers don¡¯t change the future. At worst, it had kicked the can of his misfortune down the metaphorical road, some. But now I had my first satisfied customer.

    The orc jerked a thumb behind him. ¡°Can yeh do them, too?¡±

    ¡°Full price, this time,¡±

    The orc nodded. ¡°Just tell us which one is lucky tonight!¡±

    I reached behind me. Instead of grabbing my deck, I grabbed the clay cup. Both of my suits buzzed.

 6 - Pitmaster

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 7 - Too Hard

    7 - Too Hard

    The first instinct is to shield one¡¯s own self ¨C as self-security of the body is the instinct most primal to all creatures. It is a natural reaction. Yet, the suit of towers are poorly suited to the task, for self-preservation is the domain of knaves.

    -Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills

    My door burst open, shocking me awake. My first instinct was that they knocked too hard, but when I saw the knife and the muderous intent on the eyes of the masked drakkyn, I realized they hadn¡¯t knocked at all.

    I jumped out of rat-bed as the masked drakkyn rushed me, low and fast with his blade extended. My own knife was on the table, on the other side of the assassin. Desperate, I flooded my will into the deck and called the three of knaves. A shadowy apparition appeared before me, and I saw the tip of the knife slash through its heart as I pushed back, reaching around. The loose brick from the hearth came off in my hand, and I smashed it down on the head of the startled drakkyn. His curved horns caught the worst of it, and he recovered quick. He whipped around, a bronze cuff on his tail catching my wrist. The pain shocked my hand open, and the follow-up back-kick infused with his living lightning sent me blasting through the shutter, breaking my new sign (and possibly a rib). I hit the awning of the moneychanger and rolled off onto the mud, steaming and hurting from every inch of my body. I¡¯d missed bashing my brains out on the cobbles by inches.

    Groaning, struggling to control my body from the aftermath of the living lightning, I looked up. The drakkyn had leaned out of the window, and the tower hung inverted over his head. Isolation, enemies from friends. Seeing the result of my fall, he snapped his teeth with another burst of sparks and thought better of following that route. His head disappeared. I pulled myself to my feet and called on the suit of dragons for enough stamina to stand after that fall. Surprisingly, it obliged, and I used that borrowed strength to summon another illusion at the base of the steps while I ducked underneath them. I scooped up a splintered shard of my shutter. And willed the deck to surround the shadow, as though it were the one casting spells. I summoned one card to me.

    The drakkyn leapt down the stairs, stumbling through the illusion. Slow learner. I tapped the two of knaves in my hand, and the shadowy edge formed, imperfectly, on the tip of the wooden shard. It wasn¡¯t a knife. Hell, it was barely better than my hand. But the splinter slid home, under the leather shirt, just above the hip. The Drakkyn gasped and fell to his knees. It was a fatal blow¡ªeventually. But he wasn¡¯t out yet, and I was out of tricks. I heard more footfalls, and briefly worried at more assassins as I struggled not to pass out. Using the three of dragons had brought back all my exhaustion and then some. But large grey-green hands wrapped around the drakkyn¡¯s horns, and I heard a crack as the orc headbutted the lizard right in the forehead.

    The drakkyn slumped over, revealing the half-orc from the fight pits. He reached over and helped me to my feet. Then he pulled the mask off the drakkyn, revealing the other fighter, Salamaz. The one Jeedle¡¯s brother had been sparring with.

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    I¡¯d suspected, when he fell for the same trick twice. But it was still a shock that he would try to kill me in my bed.

    The orc spit on the dying lizard¡¯s body before looking me up and down.

    ¡°You survive?¡± he said in broken common. His accent was heavy Kalash, and he had permanent stone-mottle stains on his shoulders.

    ¡°I¡¯ll live,¡± I confirmed.

    He offered his arm. ¡°I am Storm-laden back-breaker. You read cards, yes?¡± He pointed to the deck scattered on the ground.

    I sighed. ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°I read the cards.¡±

    Storm-laden produced a silver cunning.

    ¡°Now?¡± I looked down at the drakkyn. ¡°What about him?¡±

    ¡°He not need cards. Maybe five minute ago, yes? You do sloppy, but good. First time?¡±

    I swallowed. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°How feel? Sick?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said. The drakkyn had darkened my doorstep and attacked me. He¡¯d made it him or me, and I wasn¡¯t upset at which one of us was still standing and which stupid lizard was bleeding out in the gutter. ¡°He tried to kill me. I¡¯m more nervous that my landlord is going to see this! This is not a great time for a reading.¡±

    By this time, the scene had started to draw a bit of a crowd. There weren¡¯t many people out in the heat of the day. Not in the stifling slums of Barrowdown. But we were practically on the front step of the money changer.

    The orc sighed, as if speaking to a child. He knelt down and hefted the unconscious lizard. ¡°I take him. After. Jeedle make deal. You honor deal. That was deal.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay! I massaged my temples. Why would the pit fighter attack me? I wondered. The wills vibrated in my mind. But I didn¡¯t really need them to answer. I¡¯d called the drakkyn out, told his boss he was obsolete. Jeedle wasn¡¯t going to be happy with either of us. I held out my hand and called the cards back to me.

    Storm-laden followed me upstairs, and I was thankful the wood of the steps was dark enough to hide any blood. The orc lowered my assassin onto the landing before following me inside. He tried to close my door, but the other pit fighter had broken off one of the brass hinges. He shrugged and righted the table with the knife stuck in it.

    ¡°Why you no use this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Because it didn¡¯t tunnel its way to my hand.¡±

    The orc shrugged again and settled his bulk into my one groaning chair. I winced, waiting for it to splinter under his weight. He pulled the knife from the table and handed it to me, hilt first. ¡°I offer you advice, yes? In life or in pit. You don¡¯t think you want. You think what enemy want.¡± He tapped his temple. ¡°Don¡¯t let them have what they want.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ll consider that.¡±

    Storm-laden nodded and dropped the cunning in the cup, where it rattled with the other coins. Above his head was the Rook, the master of the suit of towers. Expulsion of threats, protection from harm. Just in time, I suppose. Think about what your enemy wants. That idea resonated with something in the deck, but I didn¡¯t have the energy to consider what or why.

    I summoned the wills, shuffled, and pulled a single card off the deck. Even that was rough. I flipped the card, only to see... the Rook of towers. Huh. Usually, the reading didn¡¯t exactly match the crown. I looked up at Storm-Laden. ¡°I think you¡¯re going to be fine.

    The orc¡¯s eyebrows knit. ¡°Dreedle say you read three cards.¡±

    I tapped the rook. ¡°This one says you don¡¯t need the other two. It¡¯s a card of protection. I think the safest place in Dragonmaw right now would be standing right behind you.¡±

    That seemed to satisfy the orc. ¡°Is good card. Worth three.¡± True to his word, he got up, picked up the limp lizard on his way out, and nodded my direction. ¡°I tell dwarf you read.¡±

    I collapsed back on the bed as soon as he was gone. My legs gave out, and I let the blackness take me.

 8 - Annalisa of Dunnemarsh

    8 ¨C Annalisa of Dunnemarsh

    I rolled over to a hammering in my head, groaning. I quickly realized it wasn¡¯t in my head, and a pair of dwarven builders were nailing a new hinge onto a new door by lantern light. A thicker door. With a thicker bolt. Had I really just passed out and slept through building repairs? The will-debt from over-extending myself with the deck was real.

    I had no idea what time it was, other than night time. I dragged myself from the bed and checked that my stash hadn¡¯t been disturbed. I added the day¡¯s haul of two silver cunnings to it. That made up for the tailoring and ensured I¡¯d still have a roof over my head this time next week. I washed my dry mouth out with some water from a pitcher in the cupboard, and then splashed a handful over my hair, as well.

    The dwarves finished up the door and tipped their hats to me. ¡°Compl¡¯ments o¡¯ Master Jeedle,¡± one of them said.

    ¡°My thanks,¡± I replied, holding a hand to my temple. Apparently that pounding hadn¡¯t just been the hammers. I¡¯d over exerted myself.

    The wane light of Dragonmaw was burning, and I didn¡¯t have time to live in a pity party. Jeedle had sent a full cunning, which meant he planned to send another fighter. I had to build my strength back up.

    I secured the new door and made my way down the steps. Ash had been tossed on the bloody spot where I¡¯d shivved the lizard, and an adventurer had been posted at the door to the money changer. Fuck. Here, I hoped my scuffle had gone unnoticed, like most of the violence in the middle city. Clearly my landlord had other ideas.

    The adventurer sported a bronze ranked badge pinned to his belt next to a sword with a tarnished hilt. The badge classified him as a duelist. His heavy jacket had plates sewn in on the chest and over his kidneys. His eyes tracked me, even as I sized him up, in kind. I found myself wishing he¡¯d been here a few hours ago, and then mentally kicked myself. He wouldn¡¯t have lifted a finger to help me unless the drakkyn, Salamaz, had a bounty on his head. Could he have taken the pit fighter? Maybe. Could he take me? Almost certainly.

    I supposed I felt like I had to start sizing people up now. I knew coming to Barrowdown, I¡¯d eventually have to get my hands dirty. What I hadn¡¯t expected was a fight for my life on my very first day. The streets were treacherous in Dragonmaw, and nowhere more so than Barrowdown. I¡¯d thought myself mentally prepared, but that was far from accurate.

    I¡¯d barely survived the amateur pit fighter. Hell, I¡¯d barely survived a feral cat. I needed more than a dubious door protecting me. The adventurer leaned against the wall, watching me pass. His commission was probably about a cunning per day. Out of my range now, but not astronomical.

    I had errands to run, a new sign to make, and hopefully, readings to do that didn¡¯t take me to exhaustion¡¯s edge. I could fake a few, as well.

    I swung by the tailor¡¯s and picked up my robes, first off. Then I got an actual board to make a sign, not a shattered secondhand shutter. Following that, I only had a couple of cunning¡¯s left and no pressing desire to return to the room.

    My return route took me by the pits. I hadn¡¯t intended it that way, but maybe something about the light and the noise drew my feet in that direction. Might as well pay a visit. These fights were off-limits to soul-seekers in the guild, but I¡¯d still snuck down a few times. There¡¯s something addictive about the fights. Even if you¡¯re not the bloodthirsty type. Watching skilled opponents do anything holds an interesting allure, made even more so by the threat of bodily harm.

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    The fights were in full swing, raucous crowds tossing drinks, food, and betting stubs into the circular arenas. I ducked between a pair of plane-touched getting quite handsy for such a public venue, and underneath the tray of a tall serving girl. She shot me a dirty look, and I pulled my hood up and twisted away. Several of the pubs circling the square catered the events, so drink trays flitted about through the crowd.

    It cost two clips to get inside the perimeter of the arena to where I could actually see within the rope. I pushed through the press, getting close enough to see a flash of green in the pit. Storm-laden was down below, squaring off with a lithe, shirtless elf. Most people think elves, they think of the tall, slender creatures. This one was tall, yes, but thick and scarred. Probably a soldier. His hands were wrapped with cloth, and he deflected three punches in a row from Storm-Laden and then snuck in the side of his elbow.

    The orc reeled back, shaking his head clear.

    ¡°Kick his ass, Storm!¡± shouted a drunken voice near me. I looked over. Despite the press, a small pocket had formed around a clearly-drunk plane-touched. At second look, the skin pattern of black on blue and the swept-back horns were familiar. I recognized her as the opponent Storm-laden had been tying up in knots my first visit. She¡¯d been hissing and spitting at him like a cat, and cursing up a storm¡ªapparently, now she was his biggest fan.

    She was balanced on the first rope, ready to topple over. Her tail whipped about excitedly, knocking over the drink of a street tough watching the fight.

    ¡°Oi, watch yerself!¡±

    In a flash she was off the rope and ducked into a fighting stance of her own, black fists clenched and teeth bared. ¡°You want some of this, old man?¡± Now on a level, I could see she was unusually short for a devilborn. Most of them are tall and angular. This one was short, and¡­ not curvaceous or round, but there was a softness to her body that her personality didn¡¯t seem to reflect. She filled out her leather vest and trousers at shoulder, hip, and thigh. Her bare arms were well-toned, as one might expect for a pit fighter. Even a poor one.

    The guy whose drink she spilled backed off, face reddening. Clearly, whatever offense the plane-touched offered wasn¡¯t worth dealing with her lightning-quick temper. ¡°I¡¯m not that old,¡± he said. ¡°Only thirty.¡±

    A cheer went up around us, and just as quick, she was back up on the rope ¡°Aww, I missed it!¡± she said. Above her head, the inverted arcana of the precipice burned inverted. Treacherous footing, long falls, overconfidence. She probably couldn¡¯t fight at all. Just relied on a prickly exterior to intimidate others. While I considered, she lost her balance and about spilled into the pit. ¡°Woah!¡±

    I reached out and grabbed the only thing I could: her slender tail with the spaded tip and pulled as she windmilled her arms. The card crowns weren¡¯t usually so literal! Behind her, Storm-Laden had got the elf wrapped up in an arm lock, and the two had gone to the ash. The plane-touched forgot she¡¯d been falling and started cheering and swinging her fists again.

    ¡°Woo! Break his arms!¡±

    Gods, what a psycho.

    The elf struggled for a bit, and then slapped Storm-laden¡¯s elbow. The pressure eased, and the crowd went wild. None more so than the plane-touched girl about to tumble over into the pits. I had to dig my heels in just to hold her back. Now, with the excitement gone, she turned and realized that I was holding on to her tail.

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t touch my tail! What are you, some kind of freak for tails?¡± she turned to the nearest person and pointed back at me. ¡°This guy is some sort of tail freak!¡±

    I let go. The bystander, a human, of course, wanted nothing to do with the plane-touched. ¡°Lady, you¡¯re a tail freak. He just kept you from breaking your damn fool neck,¡± she said, before pushing away through the press.

    ¡°Yeah, you better run,¡± she muttered. She looked at her hands. ¡°Where¡¯d my drink go?¡±

    ¡°It fell into the pits,¡± I said.

    Her eyes snapped up to me, taking in the robes. ¡°Hey, I know you! You¡¯re the Seeker that did Gronn and Storm!¡±

    She shoved out her hand, animosity forgotten. ¡°I¡¯m Annalisa, and I¡¯m going to be the Champion of Dragonmaw!¡±

    The inverted precipice still burned above her head.

 9 - Fighting Fire with Fighter

    9 - Fighting Fire with Fighter

    ¡°Darcent,¡± I said, taking her hand carefully. ¡°Seeker. Look, I came to see Jeedle, is he around?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s at the north end with Gronn. Why did you need him?¡±

    It seemed silly, saying it out loud. ¡°You probably heard, but I got into a little trouble yesterday. Storm-laden was there, but things could have gone way worse. Do any of his fighters, you know, do protection?¡±

    Annalisa¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You mean, like, with businesses and people?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, exactly,¡± I said, nodding.

    ¡°Like when they came to my dad¡¯s workshop and said he¡¯d better pay them for protection and when he didn¡¯t, they burned it down?¡±

    ¡°No, not exactly,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Like bodyguard work.¡±

    ¡°They do that, too! Jeedle charges two cunnings per day for his tins and bronzes, and five for his pig-irons, like Storm. Some of the fighters make more money guarding than fighting!¡±

    Dragons above, I barely had five cunnings to my name period. I eyed the tin badge¡ªnot the fancy Adventurers Guild badges, just a stamped piece of metal¡ªon her vest. Even two cunnings was a steep ask. Never mind that idea. It looked like my safety would continue to be in my own hands and I¡¯d be sleeping with that dagger under my pillow.

    ¡°Alright, thanks,¡± I said.

    ¡°Hey, hey! Wait!¡± said Annalisa as I turned to leave. I felt her hand on my robe, holding me from walking away. I looked back over my shoulder. ¡°Will you do a reading for me? I¡¯ve got a fight tomorrow with a bronzer.¡±

    That would be a bronze-rank fighter. Above her weight class. ¡°You don¡¯t think you¡¯ll win?" I asked. I kept walking. She followed behind.

    She scoffed. ¡°I know I¡¯ll win. Buuuut, a little insight wouldn¡¯t hurt, right?¡±

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    I tugged my robe free and dusted off the ash where she¡¯d touched it. I didn¡¯t think I would be capable of a reading for at least a few more hours. ¡°Have Jeedle send you over to my place. Usual fee.¡±

    Annalisa¡¯s scowl turned bitter as we turned the corner ¡°I already asked. He says I¡¯m not worth the silver. Says he only lets me in the pits on account he¡¯s friends with one of my brothers. Says I should give up the pits and be a tunneler.¡±

    ¡°You can tunnel?¡± I asked, suddenly interested. ¡°That¡¯s an incredibly rare talent!¡±

    The plane-touched held her hands, palm-up. I could see her face screwed up as she concentrated. A pair of small shimmers formed above her palms, along with a gust of icy wind¡ªshocking in the summer heat. It was a tiny tunnel through the plane of ice. People paid good money to move information and small valuables via tunnels¡ªand only a few plane-touched had the ability. Though, ice wasn¡¯t the ideal for either. She could maybe make a living chilling some rich sod¡¯s drinking water.

    ¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡± I said.

    ¡°I can¡¯t even enter the planes. And tunneling makes my head hurt,¡± said Annalisa. Even that effort seemed to have strained her.

    The portal snapped off with a pop and she gasped with relief. Annalisa seemed about as good at planeswalking as she was at fighting. Which was to say, not. Whichever path she took, Annalisa¡¯s destiny was defeat and obscurity. She dug in her pocket and produced a handful of copper clips. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll pay for it myself. What can I get for this?¡±

    I eyed the paltry sum. ¡°A drink, to drown your sorrows.¡±

    We¡¯d reached the money changer¡¯s by then, and Annalisa made to follow me up. ¡°Come on, I saw your sign. I¡¯ll make up the rest with my winnings from tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said firmly, and shut the door in her face.

    Not one to be discouraged so easily, she pounded on the door. I tried to ignore her while I pulled out Lancaster¡¯s manual and tried to convince myself I wasn¡¯t too mad to read. She persisted for a few minutes. Eventually, the knocks stopped. But just when I began to relax, I heard the sound of a struggle outside my window, and a pair of horns appeared, followed by black fingers and a puffing, blue face.

    I grabbed my knife in case she meant to attack me, but Annalisa tumbled into the room and lay flat on her back. She stared up at the ceiling.

    ¡°You¡¯d better not have damaged my landlord¡¯s awning,¡± I warned, glaring down. I couldn¡¯t afford to get kicked out of this place, especially if it meant losing out on both the deposit and the first week¡¯s rent.

    ¡°Just one card!¡± she said. ¡°Then, I¡¯ll go.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I said.

    ¡°And I¡¯ll be your bodyguard for free, for a week!¡±

    The last thing I wanted was this troublemaker trying to fight the entire world on my behalf. But I wanted her lying on my floor even less. I sighed.

    ¡°Money in the cup,¡± I said through grit teeth.

    All of the plane-touched girl¡¯s fatigue evaporated. She was up and in the chair so fast that her tail nearly knocked over my water pitcher. I caught it and pulled my Deck of Wills.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

 10 - False Readings

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 11 - A Flush Reading

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 12 - Body Guarded

    12 - Body Guarded

    I did two more readings, and then slept until noon. One of the readings was for another of Jeedle¡¯s fighters, and the other a one-card draw for a drunk looking for his apartment key.

    Even charging the drunk double and finding his keys in his pocket without having to do a full reading, my reserves were as slim as my funds. Kridick held the majority of my silver in his stubby claws. The rest of the afternoon I passed studying Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills. It had- little to say about suited draws, like the one I¡¯d done for the elf mage. As far as I know, they were exceedingly rare. I casually rifled and shuffled the deck with one hand while I read.

    Only at the higher conceptualizations of towers does one understand how the suit fits among the inverted. At a fundamental level, a tower does not protect.

    I snapped the book shut with a sigh. Towers that don¡¯t protect. Why are mages given to such cryptic crocks of shit? One and all, I swear we get off on being mysterious and brooding. At least for me, it¡¯s more of a business strategy. No one in this part of the city wants to hire a mystic whose face is clearly visible.

    I focused on the suit of towers in my deck. ¡°Don¡¯t protect me,¡± I ordered. Apparently obliged, nothing happened. Grumbling, I put the deck away. Not to be outdone, my stomach announced its own displeasure. I grabbed my robe and made my way out.

    The sun had begun to set as I descended the stairs to the money changer¡¯s. I went in and swapped silver for copper. I needed food, and then I needed to find¡­

    ¡°Darcent! Hey, Darcent!¡±

    A bouncing blue form rushed toward me. My right hand went to the knife at my hip, while the other flicked open the seal on my deck. But I recognized Annalisa.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I asked.

    She gave me a queer look. ¡°Did you forget I¡¯m supposed to be your bodyguard for a week? Except for when I¡¯m training, or fighting of course.¡± She listed off on her fingers. ¡°Or eating, or bathing, or visiting my brothers,¡± she appeared to consider one other thing, but shook her head, muttering. ¡°Nah, I could do that at the same time.¡± I really didn¡¯t want to know what it was.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be training now?¡± I asked. ¡°Your fight is in what, a couple hours?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m resting up!¡± she said, defensively. Then flicked the tip of her horn. ¡°Jeedle kicked me out of the pits. He said no more sparring ¡®til after the fight.¡± To be fair, once I looked closer I could see bruises on her face and knuckles. Whatever else she was, Annalisa didn¡¯t seem the type to shy away from a scrap.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I said.

    I expected Annalisa to jump between me and nearly everyone I passed on the street, but she fell in step behind and to my right, keeping a watchful, but blissfully silent eye on our surroundings. If I¡¯m being honest, it felt¡­ good¡­ to have a bodyguard. Like I was someone that mattered. Not just the academy dropout doing penny fortunes¡ªthough I was also that, too. The suit of dragons resonated with the sense of pride, and I let me chest puff out just a little bit more as I made my way to the cafe where I could get a bite to eat and eavesdrop on the news.

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    I ducked inside, grateful for the reprieve from the heat. I took a table near the corner, but one aspect of having a bodyguard is that everyone else apparently clams up when you¡¯re around. The effect was nice, but I couldn¡¯t afford to buy outdated news scrip. One of the serving girls came by with a pot of tea and a plate of bread and butter.

    ¡°Who¡¯s your friend?¡± she asked.

    Annalisa glared up at her, doing her best to look intimidating. The server ducked back and made herself scarce. Not out of fear, mind. The staring was just so awkward.

    ¡°Would you sit down, already?¡± I said.

    ¡°Stormy says bodyguards never sit on the job,¡± she muttered back at me.

    Stormy? Surely no self-respecting orc would let someone call them that. ¡°No one has ever been attacked in a tea shop.¡±

    ¡°That makes it the perfect place for an ambush!¡±

    I growled. They¡¯d brought two cups, so I poured one for Annalisa as well. ¡°You¡¯re drawing too much attention. Sit down, have some tea.¡±

    The plane touched girl sniffed, and then sat and began tearing into the bread with a single-minded intensity.¡±

    Dragons above. This girl really was a menace. But also, a mystery.

    ¡°How does a tunneler end up in the pits, anyway?¡± I asked.

    Annalisa washed down the bread with a scalding cup of tea, and I swear I saw steam come off her horns. She looked at me for a moment, considering. Then she shrugged. ¡°My seven older brothers brought me here when I was young. Our village flooded, and the people thought I must have been the one what did it. Seeing as I¡¯d been marked by demon¡¯s blood.¡±

    Seven older brothers? Well, that certainly accounted for the competitive streak in the woman. That must have been one raucous household.

    ¡°So they¡¯re not plane-touched?¡±

    ¡°Just me. Valk, that¡¯s my oldest brother, knew Jeedle and got him to take me on. That was before I figured out how to fight or tunnel to either plane.¡±

    ¡°Either?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯re double-marked?¡±

    ¡°Frost and obsidian,¡± said Annalisa. ¡°Frost has a little value, but obsidian is worthless. The entire plane is obsidian! You can¡¯t even tunnel through or walk it! Can¡¯t even put your hand in the portal. You just bounce straight back off.¡± She spread her hands. ¡°How are there even demons there?¡± she demanded.

    ¡°So it¡¯s an impassible barrier you can summon at will?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Annalisa cocked her head. ¡°I never thought of it like that.

    I could think of about a thousand uses for something like that. It was like combining the three of dragons and the three of knaves into the flaming shadow clone, but possibly even more useful. Something that didn¡¯t simply deter an enemy, but cut them off entirely. Something in the deck resonated with that thought. I stilled it with a force of will, which only seemed to make it resonate harder. If it buzzed any more I thought my teeth might start clacking.

    Anna refilled her cup, but rather than dashing it down her throat, she held it with both hands. The inverted precipice still burned above her head. Thrice-marked, really. Her legacy was a cursed childhood of bigotry and superstition. Her adult life would be one of abject failure, if her crown was any indication. To be a double-marked devilborn touched by two borderline useless planes and, by all odds, hopeless in the pits. No one was in this woman¡¯s corner. Hells, even I¡¯d bet against her. And Kridick hadn¡¯t even given me even odds. Despite coin-in-hand at the time of the wager, I¡¯d only be getting an extra three cunnings if she lost. A small fortune to me, but what was it measured against her story?

    Well, it was three cunnings. The dragons echoed their agreement in my deck.

    I pushed back from the table. ¡°Come on. I have more errands to run.¡±

 13 - Pit Fighter

    13 ¨C Pit Fighter

    Annalisa¡¯s fight wasn¡¯t to be in one of the main pits, dug in the dusty squares throughout the downs. Hers was in a small ring, inside a pub that had had all the tables pushed to one side. It was dark, smoky, and smelled of stale beer and sawdust. The red stains on the floor and the scuff-marks suggested this was not a one-time occurrence. Ironically, now that Annalisa had left to prepare for her fight, this was the only place we¡¯d been all day where a bodyguard might have been useful.

    Luckily, I hadn¡¯t gone around pissing people off all afternoon and evening. I spotted Jeedle off to one side, speaking with a half-orc that had a wresting band tied around her biceps. It was strung through a number of teeth, and she had her hair cut in the veldt style of a thin wedge running from her forehead to her nape, like a savannah cat¡¯s mane.

    I took my own place. Not ringside, but at the cleanest table I could find with a cheap beer to nurse. The smaller fights in bars and pubs didn¡¯t draw the same crowd as the big events in the main pits, but the place soon began to crowd. I spotted another mongrel, Kridick¡¯s right-hand man, who unfortunately noticed me, as well. He gave me a flat stare, and I couldn¡¯t have told you what hid behind those eyes. But the steed arcana rose above his head. Support, bearer of burdens and companion of journeys.

    More than half the people in the bar had card crowns flitting in and out of spots above their foreheads. To be completely honest, the effect was dazzling, and one of the reasons I typically avoided large crowds of moving individuals. I squeezed my eyes shut against the chaos for a moment to regain my bearings.

    When I opened them, the crowns had dimmed somewhat, and I relaxed. As far as I knew, no other Seeker, not even the other Soul Seekers, could see the crowns. I¡¯d long wondered what they meant and why only I could see them ever since Margot Bethane¡¯s visit. It was like doing a reading without reading. Like a window into each person¡¯s personality. They wouldn¡¯t tell me a person¡¯s future, of course. But in cases like Annalisa, they did tell me how the individual might approach it. In her case, with total overconfidence inevitably leading to disastrous results.

    My unwanted plane-touched bodyguard didn¡¯t have the first fight. That went to a pair of drakkyn women with tribal tattoos across their leathery hides. They circled each other for a moment before both dashed forward. The one closest to me lashed out with a quick jab-cross combo. Her opponent slipped the first punch, but took the edge of the second across her snout. She retreated, and the first drakkyn pressed the advantage.

    It was a feint. As the closer lizard pressed her weight forward, her opponent slipped under the follow up and grabbed her the first by the waist, twisting the unfortunate victim over her hip and throwing her to the ground.

    ¡°Now is grapple, is good,¡± said a voice beside me. I hadn¡¯t realized I was no longer alone at the table. One hand drifted toward the deck, but I recognized Storm-laden, or Stormy, as Annalisa called him. He watched the fight through a critical eye and grunted with approval. The other was swollen from one of his own fights.

    Back in the pit, the fighter thrown to the ground had somehow regained the initiative, having a lock on her opponents horns that robbed the unfortunate lizard of her leverage, even as clawed feet raked at the trapped drakkyn¡¯s belly. Blood started to squirt down onto the dust. The crowd roared.

    I saw Annalisa take her position outside the ring while the organizers hauled off the bleeding drakkyn to be seen to by the bonecutters from the Menders Guild. Those deep gashes on her belly had stopped short of eviscerating her, but just barely. Her leathery flesh hung in ribbons. This wasn¡¯t like the fights in the pits, a fact driven even further home when I saw Annalisa¡¯s opponent emerge to a chorus of boos.

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    ¡°Storm, they can¡¯t be serious!¡±

    Annalisa¡¯s opponent was an elven knife fighter, spinning his blades at the tips of his fingers. Sleight of hand tricks made the thin daggers seem to disappear and reappear at random. I could only follow his moves because we learned many similar ones at the Seekers Guild. Knives, cards, the principles were the same. And of the two, the cards were more likely to cut deep. The elf had his bronze adventurer¡¯s badge on, and his black leather armor. He had a black quilted shirt underneath with the cuffs undone. Annalisa was bare-handed, save for cloth wraps over her knuckles, and she¡¯d shed her vest and blouse down to a compress tied off over her bust more for modesty than protection. Her short hair had been tied back in a high tail to keep it out of her eyes.

    Annalisa stepped into the ring, walking to the center along with her opponent. He was at least a head taller than her, and had the reach to match¡ªplus bladed weapons.

    The half orc grunted. ¡°They jeer, but they all bet on elf.¡±

    I could see why. The bronze badge glimmered in the dim light of the whale oil lanterns suspended above the ring. I could just make out the tiny letters spelling out rogue. ¡°What about you?¡± I asked.

    Storm-laden glowered down on me. ¡°Anna say you read good card for her. I bet on Anna.¡±

    Yikes. This wasn¡¯t how I hoped it would go down. Especially with me being in striking distance of the only pit fighter in the city with any affection for the plane-touched. I had to start looking for my exit strategy. I looked around for Kridick¡¯s half-orc and spotted him making the rounds to people in the crowd. The pit master came out and announced the two combatants, but it was obvious these two weren¡¯t popular in the middle city. Neither elves nor plane-touched were much liked. But the elf was still the clear favorite to win.

    Annalisa and the elf went to their opposite corners. Anna rolling her neck and bounding on the balls of her feet. Her tail lashed behind her, keeping her balance. Jeedle leaned against the ropes, muttering to her, but she only had eyes for the elf. At one of the unoccupied corners, a bearded drakkyn flipped a time-keeper. As the sand began to drain down, he struck a brass drum.

    The two fighters closed faster than you could blink. A furious exchange of blows saw Annalisa lash out with a pair of jabs from her left, stepping out on that side to strike low at the rogue¡¯s belly. At the same time, the elf parried the first jab, slipped the second, and scored a cut along the outside of Annalisa¡¯s right arm as she pulled back her cross.

    The two separated, with Anna¡¯s palm against the cut. Ten seconds into the fight and the elf had drawn first blood. Storm grunted beside me as if he had been the one cut.

    Anna flicked the blood from her arm onto the dirt and danced in, bobbing on her feet. She cut off the elf¡¯s attempt to circle around and pushed in, feinting with her right before turning it into an uppercut aimed at the elf¡¯s ribs. He blocked it with his elbow before driving his knife down from above. Anna turned the strike with her horns, the dagger¡¯s tip a hair¡¯s breadth from punching through her eye. I tensed up. She grabbed him by the shirt and brought her knee up, aiming for his gut. If it landed, it would have knocked the wind from his sails. But the elf did something I couldn¡¯t quite see that shifted them both back a step.

    Annalisa was caught off guard by the maneuver as well, and one of the dagger points licked in and out of her upper chest. She gasped, eyes wide. He¡¯d twisted it on the way out.

    The cut hadn¡¯t been deep, but it had been fast. Faster than a bronze-ranked adventurer ought be capable. And what was that maneuver he¡¯d pulled to create the opening?

    A red stain started to spread on Anna¡¯s chest wrap. She ignored it, and wiped blood from a cut on her cheek. Wait, when had she taken that? Neither of the three deterred her. She spun, leading with a tail whip into a kick¡ªthe same technique Salamaz had used on me. The elf dipped back away from the tail, but took the kick high on his thigh, grunting in pain.

    Before Annalisa could follow it up, the elf stepped in and drove his daggers for her gut. She narrowly avoided the thrusts, and had to give up initiative. Her opponent pressed in, probing with the blades, and it was all Anna could do to retreat and keep from being cornered.

    The brass drum sounded. Hells below, three minutes already?

    The crowd had turned somewhat, getting more of a spectacle than they bargained for. Annalisa retreated to her corner, puffing with exertion. Jeedle spoke furiously to her through the ropes. The elf all but sauntered back to his corner. He tried to hide the slight limp on the side Anna had kicked him. It wasn¡¯t enough. Annalisa was hopelessly outmatched. For that single blow, she¡¯d received a handful of cuts in return. The red blood stood out, in stark contrast to her blue skin. She caught my eye and nodded over to me, smiling.

    Dragons above, she wasn¡¯t thinking about surrender at all. She still thought she was going to win.

 14 - Round Two

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 15 - Ousted

    15 - Ousted

    When I say mad, I don¡¯t mean crazy. I mean mad. As in, the plane-touched girl just lost the people in this pub a collective ton of silver. Mine included. The upset victory became an upset victory. Tables flipped. A fire already burned on the far side from a shattered oil lamp. A stein flew over my head, and a second one close behind clipped the top of it. I winced, feeling the effects of the three of dragons that had left me drained. As quickly as I could, I restacked the deck and restored it to my pocket. Storm got up beside me, flipping the table out of our way. I was glad he hadn¡¯t done that while I had my cards spread on the bottom.

    ¡°Storm!¡± I shouted, but he was already ahead of me, pushing toward the ring. He tossed drunken patrons out of his path, and it was all I could do to cover his back. The elf hadn¡¯t had the only knife in the bar¡ªDragonmaw was a city of knives. I had my own out, fending off the occasional blade and ducking the odd thrown chair.

    We made it to the ring and I leapt the rope. I ducked under a thrown chair, spotting a glint of metal as I did so. Annalisa had knocked off the elf¡¯s guild badge, and the enchantment had reverted to a dull tin luster. I scooped it up. The badges were valuable enchanted assessment devices, enough so that I always found it odd that the guild issues them to low-rank adventurers at all. The color and material shifted in my hands as the assessment freaked out at changing owners. The archetype designation shifted to ???? and the material fluctuated between tin and bronze. It would come up with something to classify me, if I held onto it long enough. I stuffed the badge in my pocket.

    I ran to Annalisa¡¯s side as she struggled to sit up. Closer now, I confirmed that I wasn¡¯t just seeing things. I¡¯d somehow inverted her crown. I¡¯d willed her destiny to change. Dragons above, I hope it hadn¡¯t broken something inside of her. Or, gotten unwanted attention. Changing fate is the domain of the temple of Skein, and they do not appreciate competition.

    I leaned down, pulling Annalisa up. She was cut and bloody in a handful of places. I looked around for the medicae, but he was busy getting the piss beat out of him by the orc lady who¡¯d organized the other side of the fight. Huh. Guess I¡¯d found their ringer.

    ¡°I won,¡± she slurred. ¡°Never¡­ stood. A chance¡­¡±

    Something struck me from behind, knocking me forward onto my hands and knees, just a hands span from Annalisa. She caught my face in her hands. Looked at me. Then looked up. And then I saw it.

    Reflected in her eyes, a card, for the first time ever, burned above my head.

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    Annalisa reached up, confused and half-delirious, and waved her hand through, as though trying to pluck it off my forehead.

    She could see it.

    I didn¡¯t have time to dwell. Jeedle rolled under the ropes and took Annalisa by her boots. We heaved. I grabbed her horns. The madam from the Mop was right; they did make good handles. But Annalisa was much heavier than she looked. We got her out of the ring, and Storm cleared us a path.

    Before we could make it to the door, hands as strong as iron manacles wrapped around my upper arms from behind. I struggled, but it might as well have been a block of granite behind me. I looked up into the half-orc face of Kridick¡¯s man, growling down at me through a mouth of sharp teeth. ¡°You,¡± he said, ¡°are coming with me!¡±

    Jeedle made to drop the plane-touched, but then he saw who had me.

    ¡°You know who I work for,¡± said the orc thug.

    Jeedle looked between me and the orc, conflicted. But when Storm-laden tried to push past, he held out a hand to stop the larger mongrel. So, that was where I stood.

    ¡°Sorry, Darcent,¡± he said as I was trundled out of the rioting pub.

    Betrayal, cheating, kidnapping, and riots. Just an average day in Dragonmaw.

    I still had my knife and my cards, but I was too exhausted for either. The orc forced my head down and steered it into the nearest alley. We cut across the next street, and down to the next tier dockwise. I didn¡¯t bother asking him where he was taking me. Kridick¡¯s front was near and we headed straight for it. I smelled smoke above the claustrophobic miasma of the low-tide. Barrowdown might have one less watering hole when the sun came up.

    There was some commotion when the orc kicked open the door to the Mop n¡¯ Bucket and hauled me inside. The madam made to raise a fuss, but thought better of it when she caught the orc¡¯s expression. The girls just watched, as did the card players from the last time I¡¯d been here. One of them even winked at me over his hand.

    Up the steps we went. Down the narrow hall, office at the end. The orc let himself in, and then sat me in the chair. I tried to stand back up, but he hit me across the jaw with a backhand that persuaded me to remain sitting. He walked off, and returned with a pair of leather straps which he used to secure my arms. His breath was ragged and smelled of spirits.

    He left me, then. And I was alone in Kridick¡¯s office.

    I tried to get my breathing under control in the time I had before he came back. They had nothing. I¡¯d lost money. Just because a Seeker had bet on the sure thing wouldn¡¯t have swayed their own odds-making. I recited a litany of arcana meanings to calm myself.

    ¡°Alkazarian: power, fire, innate strength. Inverted: destruction, material greed, unhealthy appetites. Skein: natural cycles, seasons, fate. Inverted¡­¡± I gulped. ¡°trapped. Lack of alternatives¡­¡±

    Hells below.

    I tried to distract myself. I¡¯d seen a card hovering in front of my forehead. That had never happened before. I took it to mean that I was futureless, unimportant, disposable. I told it to myself over and over: That Margot Bethane was wrong. There was no reason for her to darken my door in stitch alley. No destiny choosing me as its champion. No reason my¡ª

    The door banged open. I recognized Kridick¡¯s growl before he leaned my chair back back. I away from him as he shoved his face close to mine. He¡¯d been wearing a scarf over his face. He pulled it down.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been a naughty boy, Darcent of Stitch Alley.¡±

 16 - Kridicks Little Friend

    15 - Kridick¡¯s Little Friend

    The hole where his nose ought to have been gaped at me. He dropped the chair and walked behind his desk. He glanced up at his mongrel thug. ¡°Shut the door, Zarry.¡±

    I heard the door click shut, and then a lock engage. Kridick reached down behind his desk and drew a short hatchet, shaped like a miniature version of an orc war axe. He rubbed his fingers along the haft thoughtfully. I opened my mouth to scream, and a cloth split my teeth and choked out my voice. Zarry¡¯s fists held it taught on either side of my face.

    ¡°I seen a lot of fights since my days in the pits. This little friend of mine what I took off a veldt-mottle has been buried in three separate skulls.¡± He looked up. ¡°It¡¯s got a taste, it does. Fer¡¯ the noble races.¡± he sneered. The noble races were what everyone but orcs and devilborn called, well, everyone but orcs and devilborn. Kridick walked back over to me, lips curled up in a teeth-bearing sneer. He put the blade under my chin, so sharp I felt the shave, and lifted my face up.

    ¡°Seems no one¡¯s heard of you til three days ago. You show up in Barrowdown, start handing out fortunes, place one wager. Then, you cheat in one of my fights without permission¡ªand I don¡¯t know how, or why. What¡¯s your game, boy? Did Daggertongue send you down here?¡± His eyes flicked up. ¡°Let¡¯s have it off him, Zarry.¡±

    The pressure on my face disappeared, and I huffed and puffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know any Daggertongue.¡±

    ¡°Then he wouldn¡¯t mind if I cut your throat,¡± said Kridick. The living lightning of his drakkyn half crackled behind his teeth with the snap and pop of electricity. The spines at his throat practically glowed with barely-contained anger.

    ¡°I swear it!¡± I said, as the blade pressed against my apple.

    ¡°Then who are you? Huh?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an ex-Seeker. The guild kicked me out this week. I came down here to make my own way.¡±

    ¡°You believe him, Zarry?¡±

    ¡°Not a word, boss,¡± said Zarry, behind me.

    The hatchet disappeared from my throat. ¡°Never was good at sussing lies, my Zarry.¡± the hatchet reappeared at the joint of my first knuckle instead. ¡°So what¡¯s your angle? Every human¡¯s got one. How¡¯d you cheat?¡±

    ¡°Ah-h-h-!¡± I spat out. The edge of the hatchet bit into the flesh of my finger. Kridick poised his other hand over the back of it, ready to bring it down and complete the chop. ¡°I-I¡¯m a Soul Seeker!¡± I finally got out.

    Kridick stared at me. ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡±

    The hatchet disappeared and Kridick began to scratch his cheek with it. ¡°A Soul Seeker? A bloody Soul Seeker? No way the guild lets you out of their sight.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really bad at it,¡± I said. ¡°Or, I was, until today. I used the Deck of Wills.¡±

    Kridick looked up at Zarry. ¡°You¡¯re sure it was this lout?¡± he asked. I didn¡¯t see the mongrel¡¯s response, but the noseless drork growled. ¡°The sniffer felt nothing. He swears it.¡±

    ¡°Sniffer?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s the one what makes sure no magic is used to affect the fights,¡± said Kridick. ¡°Keeps things fair, like. So people don¡¯t start to lose faith in the wagering.¡±

    ¡°Well then he wasn¡¯t doing his job,¡± I said. ¡°Someone else was cheating¡ªfor the elf, not for Annalisa.¡±

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    Kridick rolled his head back and laughed. It made his nose-hole whistle. He leaned in close. ¡°I know, genius. I paid ¡®em both. He was making sure no one else was affecting the fight.¡±

    ¡°Shit. Is Jeedle in on it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Kid, who do you think Jeedle works for?¡± he asked. He growled and looked away. ¡°Cost me a pretty clipping, this did. Daggertongue won¡¯t be happy.

    There was that name, again. Daggertongue. Obviously a fake name. No one in sound mind would name their child that. Not even the orcs, whose names just got longer as they did more deeds.

    Kridick¡¯s eyes slid back down to me. ¡°Well. If you don¡¯t work for him, then we¡¯ve got a problem. Because I can¡¯t have a mage what can¡¯t be sniffed running around Barrowdown, you see?¡± he raised the hatchet. My eyes got huge, and I tensed up and turned away as it dropped. It split the leather strap at my wrist. I heard Zarry tsk. ¡°That was my belt, boss!¡±

    ¡°Was it? Sorry, Zar¡¯.¡±

    I opened my eyes. My left wrist was free. I used that hand to undo the binding at my other, and rubbed the skin where it had been cinched tight. I looked up at the mongrels.

    ¡°See,¡± said Kridick, ¡°I can¡¯t pay off every sniffer in town. But if I¡¯ve got a Soul Seeker in my pocket, I don¡¯t much need to. I can put any fighter in any ring, and they¡¯ll never know you¡¯re backing them¡ªas long as you work on your three-card ante in the shadows.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help myself. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t believe in Seeking,¡± I said.

    The mongrel drork waved the statement off with his axe. ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°Fortunes are volley, but magic is magic. And yours can¡¯t be picked up. So here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. You work for me. You keep doing your little readings. But what you¡¯re really doing is boosting the fighters I tell you, when I tell you. Under the nose of the sniffers. Tell you what, if you can make that shipwreck of a plane-touched able to trounce a bronzer, you could do pretty much anything.¡±

    ¡°Do I got a choice?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Boy, you don¡¯t know when you¡¯re ahead, do you?¡± Kridick buried his hatchet in the top of his desk and spread his palms like he was comparing two weights. ¡°There¡¯s always a choice. Here are yours: you get out of Barrowdown tonight, and if I ever see you here again, Zarry drowns you in the canal. It¡¯s good deal, considering what you cost me. Because Zarry don¡¯t like killing kids, do you Zarry?¡±

    ¡°Not particular.¡±

    ¡°¡ªbut don¡¯t think he won¡¯t! Twixt you and I, he¡¯s got a bit of a mean streak. So you get out. Or, you work for me, and earn a little scratch while you make up for this non-insignificant financial clusterfuck you caused tonight. Hmm?¡±

    I looked away. ¡°In your pocket,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh ho, kid, you want to be in the pocket. It¡¯s warm and safe in the pocket. Out here?¡± he spread his hands, ¡°Out here, all alone, you¡¯re exposed, cold, friendless. I heard what happened with that other fighter that paid you a visit, and, hells, maybe you ought to be in the pits. Me? I got lots of friends. An¡¯t that right, Zarry?¡±

    ¡°Boatloads,¡± the mongrel behind me replied.

    ¡°This is what you want, Darcent of Stitch Alley. This is how you make your own way in Dragonmaw without getting eaten alive.¡±

    ¡°Because Dragonmaw swallows all,¡± I said.

    ¡°Because Dragon-fucking-maw swallows all,¡± he growled through his teeth. He held out his thick wrist, still corded with muscle despite being long removed from the pits. ¡°Don¡¯t think about it too long. This offer expires when I lose my patience. And I ain¡¯t got much patience. Do I, Zarry?¡±

    ¡°Not a drip,¡± he said.

    I didn¡¯t have to think about it long. I took Kridick''s wrist, and he pulled me to my feet. The knaves in the deck were practically giddy¡ªbut I¡¯d been coming to understand that wasn¡¯t necessarily a good sign.

    ¡°Wise decision,¡± said Kridick. He grinned even wider. The skin at the corners of his nose tightened.

    Before he could say anything else, a thundering roar out in the hallway drew our attention. Kridick¡¯s hand drifted back to his hatchet, but all three of us flinched when something slammed into the door, nearly taking it off the fittings.Something hit the floor on the other side and began moaning.

    Zarry looked at his boss. ¡°You wanted the pine,¡± he scoffed.

    ¡°I bow to your superior sense of interior decoration, Zarry,¡± growled Kridick. ¡°Now, see who it is.¡±

    Zarry undid the latch and pulled the door open. A blue, tailed form writhed on the ground. But when she saw me, Annalisa leapt up to her feet and threw herself at Zarry. He caught her midair. She pummeled his head and horns, but the mongrel¡¯s bracer flashed with each hit. It was magic, then. Some sort of defensive enchantment. He slammed her back to the ground. I winced. Annalisa moaned and struggled to rise again. Someone had seen to her cuts and bruises, but only just. I¡¯m sure she was still completely exhausted and weak from the fight.

    ¡°Well, well,¡± said Kridick. ¡°Our little blue devil of the hour. What under the dragons are you doing here?¡±

    Annalisa looked at me.

    No.

    ¡°I¡¯m his bodyguard!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s really not,¡± I protested.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to rescue him!¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t need it,¡± I said. Though, until just a few minutes ago, I¡¯d have said the canal was my final destination tonight.

    Kridick looked between the two of us and grinned. ¡°No, no. An asset like a Soul Seeker should be protected. Don¡¯t worry, Darcent. We¡¯ll just take the wages straight out of your cut.¡±

 17 - A Fight to Remember

    Chapter 17 ¨C A Fight to Remember

    ¡°And then I smashed him!¡± said Annalisa, thrusting her fist into the air.

    ¡°I know, Anna, I was there,¡± I reminded her. We walked through the alleys of Dragonmaw, both exhausted. Half-dead and half-drunk on borrowed time, were we two fools. I felt like I¡¯d been through the dragon¡¯s maw, chewed up, and blasted out the back end. Annalisa had been through worse(physically, at least), but seemed to not feel it. But her body was on the edge of giving up, despite her unending reserves of willpower.

    ¡°Right. It¡¯s just, this was my first win. I want to make sure I remember it. So, you¡¯re going to help me again?¡±

    ¡°Help you cheat?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯re ok with that? Winning by cheating?¡±

    She laughed, and then coughed, winced, and put a hand to her chest where the elf blade had kissed her. ¡°Darcent, this is Dragonmaw. Everyone is cheating! I wanted to beat the fighters and their pocket mages, just to prove I could.¡± She twirled her tail. ¡°But... having you in my corner is good too. Really, it just makes it even.¡±

    I huffed. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t bother you? That I bet against you?¡±

    ¡°The greater the odds, the greater the glory,¡± she said, pounding one fist into her opposite palm. ¡°Even your cards said I would lose. But I showed them, and everyone else too!¡±

    By the skin of her teeth (and mine).

    But it was time to broach an even more uncomfortable subject.

    ¡°Annalisa,¡± I began. ¡°Do you... see something on my face? Something that shouldn¡¯t be there?¡±

    Her eyes went wide, which gave me another glimpse of the card burning on my own forehead. ¡°I thought it was so weird how no one else was talking about it!¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s how I knew you were special, though... maybe a bit of a freak, too.¡±

    I stopped in the alley, and she turned to face me. It was time to tell her my secret. ¡°I see them for everyone. I saw one for Jeedle, I saw one for Kridick, and Storm-laden, and most people I meet.¡±

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    ¡°Is that normal for Soul Searchers?¡±

    ¡°Soul Seekers, and no. As far as I know, only I can do it. And I see one for you.¡±

    ¡°Me, too?¡± she asked. She rubbed at her forehead, but of course her fingers went right through the precipice arcana. ¡°What does it say?¡±

    Up until earlier that evening, it had portended disaster and misfortune of the worst kind. Until I¡¯d somehow changed it. And in doing so, manifested my third suit. Towers. But now, it said something very different. ¡°It says you¡¯re going to do amazing things.¡±

    She nodded, as though that was the most obvious answer in the world.

    Hold on a minute. ¡°Wait. Why did the card make you think I was some sort of freak?¡± I asked carefully.

    ¡°Aside from, I don¡¯t know, being a flaming card stuck to your forehead?¡± she asked. She bit her index finger, as if unsure how to proceed. The tip of her tail traced up and down her trouser leg in a nervous gesture. Annalisa experiencing nerves struck me as one of the oddest things I¡¯d seen that night. ¡°Well, it¡¯s got two people on it, and they¡¯re um... Doing the... uh...¡±

    My own breath caught. There were only two cards with multiple figures on them. One was the court of knaves. But that had four people reveling. The only other one, the one that might make a plane-touched blush was...

    ¡°The lovers,¡± I said. It made an unfortunate sort of sense after the past few days.

    Annalisa glanced to the side and back, biting her lip. ¡°Does that mean...¡± she made a hole with her thumb and forefinger and moved the tip of her tail towards it. ¡°... that we¡¯re going to...?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I shouted, suddenly, and louder than I meant to. Dragons above. If Annalisa approached sex the way she threw herself at everything else in her life, I doubted I would survive the encounter. ¡°It means... Partnership, power shared, and joined strength.¡±

    I looked up at the wane dragons, swimming their ghostly laps through the air above Dragonmaw. ¡°It means that whatever my fortunes in this city, Annalisa, they¡¯re tied to you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thank the gods,¡± she said, relieved. When she saw my expression, she held up her palms, waving in defense. ¡°I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, you¡¯re not awful, even if you are a bit of a pervert. But I don¡¯t see you that way. I¡¯ve got my fighting career to think of, and I¡¯m your bodyguard, so it would be unprofessional. And plus,¡± she lowered her voice and leaned in. ¡°I think your bed might be made of rats.¡±

    I chuckled. ¡°I think you might be right.¡±

    Annalisa stretched her arms up above her horns, and several joined cracked rather alarmingly. ¡°Partners, huh? Joined strength? I like it. I don¡¯t have many friends in this city.¡±

    ¡°Me either,¡± I said. Despite her over-enthusiasm, I was coming around to Annalisa¡¯s headlong approach to, well, everything. And she did have a mean hook, when she could stop bouncing around in a manic panic long enough to hit someone with it. I started walking again. ¡°But at least I¡¯ve got one.¡±

    Anna grinned, grinding her bruised knuckles against her palm. ¡°Dragonmaw won¡¯t know what hit it!¡±

    End of Arc 1

    What marks the difference between a seeker and a soul seeker? Perhaps it does not lie in the ability to borrow power, as the guild believes. But in the ability to negotiate an exchange.

    -Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills.

 Chapter 18 - Interlude 1

    Chapter 18 - Interlude 1

    Kridick entered the open door to the lavish study and waited for his host to acknowledge him. All around him, artworks from artists whose names he could barely pronounce and certainly couldn¡¯t read. Beauty and splendor that ill-matched the blackened heart of his host. The highlord stood on the balcony, illuminated by the wane dragons. Beyond, that balcony offered a view encompassing nearly the entirety of Dragonmaw. From the upper city, guild rows, and docks to the middle city, the canals, the unsheathings, and the downs, where a column of smoke still drifted up from the events of the day before. His host sniffed at a glass of wine the way all the fancy-to-do highlord pricks did. His other hand idly spun a card.

    ¡°Speak, mongrel. I can hear the breath whistling through that disgusting hole in your face.¡±

    ¡°Lord,¡± said Kriddick, temper flaring. It was the only greeting or honorific he had to offer the highlord of Dragonmaw. Those in his own circle knew the noble by another name. Daggertongue. Kridick was among few privileged enough to be granted his true identity as one of the steering hands of Dragonmaw itself. But it was a precarious position. The old drork knew his name was certainly on a list of loose ends, should this elf have need to distance himself from his less legitimate enterprises.

    ¡°Detestable business, the circumstances of this meeting. I thought Barrowdown firmly in-hand.¡±

    ¡°The downs are rarely in hand,¡± Kridick growled. ¡°Barrowdown least of all. But things are settled. For now.¡±

    The elf¡¯s lips curled up. ¡°The ashes aren¡¯t even settled. Burnt-down blocks are hardly conducive to business. What do you have to say for yourself?¡±

    ¡°No excuses, lord.¡±

    Daggertongue took another moment to sniff at his wine before sampling it. He watched the smoke rising over the southeast quarter. ¡°I don''t recall asking for excuses. I want to know what happened. You were there, yes?¡±

    ¡°I was,¡± Kridick confirmed.

    ¡°Was it the ways witch making a play? Hmm? Maybe a lich from the Mausoleum Planes come to visit? Or simply a drunken brawl that got out of hand?¡±

    Kridick¡¯s hesitation in answering was uncharacteristic. Despite his brutish appearance, the fighter-turned-fixer had a quick tongue and reliable head for the less legitimate dealings of Daggertongue¡¯s empire. He looked at the card in Daggertongue¡¯s hand, debating.

    Daggertongue flicked the card in his hand into the air. The dark iconography of an otherwordly shape glowed on its surface. Shadows in the study deepened, and Kridick felt unholy attentions turned to his direction. One didn¡¯t survive long in Dragonmaw¡¯s lawless streets without a keen sense of self-preservation, and his was telling him to get gone.

    ¡°Speak, Kridick. Or I¡¯ll tear such a hole in you as to make that revolting thing in your face seem little more than a scratch.¡±

    The half-orc took a step closer to his host and away from the shadows, heart thumping audibly as the shadows began to hiss and reach toward the orc. It would be six steps to Daggertongue and half a heartbeat to break the elf¡¯s neck and toss him over the edge. He¡¯d never make it three. They both knew it. But this wasn¡¯t his time, and when the knife came, Daggertongue wouldn¡¯t be holding it himself. The mage was toying with him. He growled again. ¡°Cut the theatrics. You know I¡¯m on the inside. Full in.¡±

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    Daggertongue withdrew his spell, and finally turned, smiling, to face his guest. The elf gestured, open-palmed, for the orc to continue. He settled back into his favorite chair. ¡°By all means, then.¡±

    ¡°It was... some Seeker kid. One with the Wills, like you.¡±

    Daggertongue sat forward, suddenly interested. Unsurprising, since the highlord had risen from the ranks of the Seekers Guild, himself. ¡°Guild?¡± he demanded.

    Kridick shook his head. ¡°Not guild. That, I¡¯m sure of. Not anymore. Don¡¯t know why he cut and run, and I¡¯m not looking to press. He¡¯s got the Wills and used them to shift a fight out of odds. Ogglers didn¡¯t appreciate the outcome. Doubt anyone else figured out what happened, but it caused a bit of a stir.¡±

    ¡°A bit.¡± The elf, normally impassive, had a hint of fervor in his eyes that Kridick marked. Hardly surprising, when the highlord rose from the ranks of the soul seekers, himself. ¡°Where is he now?¡±

    ¡°In my pocket.¡± Kridick was quite satisfied how thoroughly he¡¯d rolled up the kid and the blue devilborn. ¡°Sniffers can¡¯t pick up on Soul Seeking and that fighter¡¯s still an underdog we can exploit. Resource like that? Going to put him to work for us. He¡¯ll turn more coin than he cost. I¡¯m certain of it.¡±

    Daggertongue nodded, eyes turning down in thought. ¡°Good. Good. You always did have an eye for opportunity, Kriddick. Just don¡¯t mistake the opportunity for profit as an opening to outclimb your station. I need you where you are. Keep him close.¡±

    ¡°Within throat slitting range, lord.¡±

    Daggertongue finished his wine. ¡°Is there anything else?¡±

    Kridick shifted uncomfortably. ¡°About that other matter...¡±

    Daggertongue¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Say nothing more of it, mongrel. Keep her safe until I call for her. Until then, no one is to know. Do not give me cause to intervene personally.¡±

    Kridick bowed, stepping back. This was already more time in the elf¡¯s presence than was comfortable to spend. ¡°Lord,¡± he said. The only farewell he would offer, as well.

    ***

    Annalisa hunched over her small writing block, quill scrabbling at the cheap parchment by the light of a lonely candle. Her everything hurt, and the poultices on her cuts stung, but it was worth it. She was one step closer to her goal of being the best fighter in the world. If that wasn¡¯t worth an edition of the family newsletter, she wasn¡¯t sure what ought be.

    Dad, Kurtz, Blane, Valk, Euritz, Votay, Cress, & Cierrelicus,

    You may have already heard about my decisive victory against Pallithorn the Blade two nights ago. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d have been impressed. My goal of being the best fighter in Dragonmaw is one step closer, and practically in sight. Not a day goes by that I don¡¯t think about all of you. I know it wasn¡¯t easy, having a devilborn sister. But I could never have gotten here without all of you. Since you couldn¡¯t make it, it went like this:

    She considered transcribing a blow-by-blow, but in truth the fight had been something of a blur. The fight had been electric, riveting, and she found herself remembering sensations more than actions. How each blow had felt and the cold burn of the Pallithorn¡¯s knife. Fight reports went out each sixthday. They would have read it already.

    The city continues to greet me with fresh challenges, and I accept them all with chin raised, knowing they can only make me stronger. I¡¯ve taken on additional work as a bodyguard, though doubtless my reputation as a peerless fighter will scare away any would-be assassins or thieves. My ward seems to be a bit of a pervert, where tails are concerned, but his virtues make up for his shortcomings.

    At least they would once she determined what they were, she was sure. Still, Darcent had believed in her, and even increased the odds stacked against her¡ªonly to sacrifice his own providence to help her once he realized her potential. The least she could do was believe in him.

    In other matters, Votay¡¯s alchemical work continues to provide valuable medicines and potions to the Menders Guild. Euritz performed for the Lady Balisina at the Chatten hall of theatrics, Cress received an award from the masons for his work improving the canals, and Kurtz departed on his voyage to Kalash. I¡¯ve not heard from Blane in some weeks, but I expect he¡¯s doing well in Saltforge designing fashionable ladys¡¯ helmets.

    With all the love in my heart, I will continue fighting for everyone.

    Annalisa

 Chapter 19 - Undersea Open-Palm technique

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 Chapter 20 - A Plan Comes Together

    Chapter 20 ¨C A plan comes together

    I slipped the deck back into my pocket and pushed back from my seat, making my way past the fixer and to the bar to refresh my drink. Once collected, I made my way back through the crowd. When I brushed past the fixer, I twitched my deck and a single card slipped out and adhered to the bottom of his stool. I felt it, even as I returned to my table.

    In the ring, Annalisa still took the worst of the exchange, though she¡¯d regrouped with the help of the shield I¡¯d given her. Just a few weeks ago, evoking a card ability while doing a reading would have tapped me dryer than a keg in Kalash. Now it was just the start of my plan.

    I retook my seat just as the brass drum signaled the end of the round. Both fighters retreated into their corners. Despite the Mayazian fixer¡¯s mire of invisible threads that would have exhausted another fighter, Annalisa showed no lack of energy and excitement for the next round. If anything, she¡¯d been invigorated by the one-sided fight. Nothing stimulated her more than insurmountable odds. Her face showed some patches that were more purple than blue where the lamia had struck, and her arms were a patchwork mottle of bruises from fending off an extra set of arms. Her ribs couldn¡¯t be feeling great, either. Yet, though all that, she grinned across the ring.

    The Lamia slithered back and forth in her corner, confident both in her fixer and her chances. But must have known Annalisa had held back. The plane-touched had used no tunneling tricks. What most people didn¡¯t know after the last fight, was that she struggled to use them without the aid of the dragon buff. She¡¯d gotten better at tunneling, but it still required a degree of concentration Annalisa seemed to struggle to maintain on her own. Only with the aid of my siphoned focus and stamina could she manifest stable portals. For now.

    The third round started. I spread the cards on the underside of my table again and sifted through for the rest of my bonded cards. I¡¯d need everything in my arsenal if we were going to make this quick enough to escape suspicion. I watched the other fixer across the ring as he continued to slow Annalisa, and also pull her aim off center as the anchor points for his threads shifted around my partner.

    Near him, a drakkyn had found his tankard empty. He turned it end over, chasing the last few drops around the rim with his tongue before looking around for a serving girl. Finding none, the lizard pushed back from his table and made for the bar. His path took him nearly directly behind the Mayazian fixer. Just as he passed, I activated the card under the fixer¡¯s chair, the three of knaves, and infused it with another, the two of knaves. The rest of them buzzed in excitement, and... jealousy? I could feel them in the deck, almost as if they tried to push to the front. They felt close to the surface, like I might bond with yet another, soon.

    It was difficult to cast my will over the intervening space. Black spots appeared at the edge of my vision. But it only needed to be for a moment. A shadowy apparition sprang from the card, appearing between the fixer and the drakkyn. It was a minor illusion, easily ignored¡ªexcept that I¡¯d infused it with the murderous intent of the blade of knaves. Both the drakken and the fixer sensed the apparition behind, and turned just as I cut the illusion off, each meeting the others eyes over the empty space. The fixer, being paranoid as he was, saw a knife coming for his back. The spell restraining Annalisa evaporated, and the fixer raised his hands to curse the drakkyn.

    The drakkyn was faster. He hurled his tankard overhand, as hard as he could, directly into the face of the Mayazian fixer. It struck him square on the nose, and blood fountained up from his face as he fell back over his table, knocking it, and his chair and drink, over.

    The commotion wasn¡¯t exactly remarkable for a lower city pub. People were still more interested in the fight within the ring than outside of it. Including me. With the opponent¡¯s fixer handled, I turned my attention to helping Annalisa close out the fight.

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    The first thing I did was infuse her with the three of dragons. The effect was instantaneous. Between her bonds dissipating and the extra stamina coursing through her veins, she was like a fresh fighter. Her speed blurred. Suddenly, four arms weren¡¯t enough for Kel of Bitterdeep to deflect every blow. Though the lamia was an expert at parrying fists with an open palm, more began to slip through her guard. She pulled her other hands up to defend, even as she whipped her tail. Annalisa ducked under it and turned her crouch into a rising knee. The lamia tried to lean away from it but found a newly-formed portal to the plane of obsidian blocking her retreat. The knee smashed through her guard and drove deep into Kel¡¯s scaly gut. With no ground to give, it must have hurt something fierce.

    A lesser fighter might have been sent to the ash by a blow like that. But Kel recovered quickly, striking Annalisa with two open palms in an effort to force her back. They were solid hits, but I¡¯d already fed more of my will into the shield spell. Anna ducked back underneath a quick jab of her own that caught the lamia through a small gap in her guard. Anna brought around a hook. The lamia ducked to the side, but she was caught off guard again. In a maneuver we¡¯d practiced, Anna used the extra focus granted by the dragon buff to tunnel through the plane of frost. A handful of snowflakes burst from a second portal on the other side of Kel¡¯s head, along with Annalisa¡¯s fist. Instead of rolling with the punch, the lamia was completely caught by it from the new angle, her own momentum working against her.

    Annalisa withdrew her hand from the portal and shook the ice off. She could only tunnel a few feet, but we¡¯d practiced this maneuver dozens of times. I could see her excitement that it had worked. The crowd roared as Kel slumped to the side, stupefied by the punch. Anna didn¡¯t let up and pursued the retreating sea serpent with a flurry of strikes about her head and throat. Across, the fixer and drakkyn finally began to get themselves sorted out. We had to finish this quick.

    I steeled myself and fed my will into the two of knaves for the second time. Ths was the hardest part of the plan¡ªboth due to my distance from the card and the complicated evocations I already held. The three of dragons constantly siphoned my stamina to maintain Anna¡¯s. The knaves were my closest-bonded suit, and I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have been able to do it otherwise.

    The stacked evocations still threatened to make me faint, and I barely held on to the three of dragons. The barest hint of a shimmer surrounded Annalisa¡¯s horns and hands. She opened her fist and delivered a strike, not unlike one of the lamia¡¯s, with the edge of her hand. Kel could sense something amiss about the blow and lowered all four hands to intercept it. All four hands wrapped around Annalisa¡¯s wrist and forearm, stopping the strike in its place.

    That¡¯s when Annalisa smashed her horns into Ren¡¯s face.

    This wasn¡¯t a perfect application of the two of knaves. It worked on a hand or horns, or even a sharp enough splinter of wood. But was best on something thin and sharp, like a blade. Still, an appropriate fountain of blood gushed from Kel¡¯s face, and she let go of Anna¡¯s hand.

    Annalisa quickly reversed the grip and seized Kel¡¯s wrists, even wrapping her tail around one of them. She pushed back, wrenching the lamia off balance. The deep sea serpent sprawled forward, hands groping for purchase as she toppled. With her guard forgotten, Anna danced to the side, aimed a fist, and struck Kel across the jaw. The lamia went limp, flopping onto the ash of the ring.

    Across the ring from me, I saw the fixer look in horror, his replacement spellwork only half-way complete. His fighter had dropped while he was distracted. Behind and to his right, the Mayazian rep, a broad bastard with two sheathed swords, stared daggers at the elf. To her, it looked like Annalisa had won in the worst way possible. Fair and square in a fixed fight. I smiled, watching my plane-touched partner do a victory lap in the ring. I opened up a rift in my deck, and my missing card slipped home among its brothers, unnoticed in the revelry of the crowd.

    I opened my robe to check the guild badge I¡¯d pinned on the inside. It had finally settled on bronze, the second of fifteen ranks. But it still didn¡¯t know what to make of my ability. The badge wasn¡¯t originally attuned to me, so the archetype continued to shift, scrolling through Spellslink, inkheart, ????, card magician, fluffer, shadowmancer, and a half-dozen other designations. The guild lexicon had some very specific and niche designations¡ªand yet soul-seeker didn¡¯t seem to be among them.

    It would sort itself out eventually.

 Chapter 21 - Afterparty

    Chapter 21 - Afterparty

    I¡¯d bet on Annalisa. I¡¯d be a fool not to, with the precipice burning over her horns. Not with Kridick, who told me, if you can believe it, that it would be unethical. He kept a straight face, too. I doubt the pit-faced old drork had ever smiled in his life. No, I placed a bet very quietly with the Mayazians over in Hollowdown. They had offered great odds, with the number of people betting on their own fighter, and I had fourteen cunnings headed my way. A fortune, really. It would be an extra trip tomorrow to collect from the dockside district, but worth it to have a little coin that wouldn¡¯t disappear into the coffers of the old bookie like most of what I earned fixing ringside. I wanted to replace a few of my cards, maybe even start inking a whole new Deck of Wills. But you couldn¡¯t use just any ink, and enchanted ink dealers didn¡¯t slum around in the lower city.

    Annalisa, of course, got her winner¡¯s prize. But the plane-touched girl had little interest in money, beyond what she needed to get herself plastered drunk to celebrate her win and making sure she had a roof over her head to recover for the next day. She was currently doing her best to drink the entire bar under the table. We went to the Mop n¡¯ Bucket so that Annalisa could drink her winnings while the menders salved up her bruises and healed her cracked rib.

    We split as soon as we hit the brothel. She went straight to the bar and I, feeling my luck to finally be on the up, swung by the gamblers in their corner.

    ¡°Room for one more?¡± I asked. There was more than one way to put silver in my pocket.

    ¡°Piss off, runt,¡± said the largest of them, an ugly bastard with a tall hat and voice that sounded like he was gargling granite.

    Another, a woman in a vest and unbuttoned blouse, glared over her hand. ¡°Manners, Jack,¡± she admonished. Then she looked at me. ¡°You¡¯re not ready for this game, kid. Find another table.¡± The other two, the one in the red jacket and a broad man with a mountain on his pendant necklace, gave me barely a glance.

    I raised my hands ¡°Alright, I meant no offense.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure if the quartet worked for Kridick or not. They were regulars at the mop, and when I asked the madam about them, she shrugged.

    ¡°They were here a¡¯fore Kridick. But they always pay, and tip when there¡¯s a row. With queer foreign coin, too.¡±

    We weren¡¯t the only ones at the brothel who had come from the fight, either. Plenty of folks in Barrowdown wanted to toast the lady of the hour, and Annalisa tackled each drink as though the bottom of the stein owed her a debt and she had to drink her way through the lager to collect it. By dawn I had to fortify her with the dragon buff just to let her walk to the privy without crashing through half the tables in the pub.

    The madam, whose name I learned was Trundlia (Trundi, for short), clucked at her as she went. ¡°That girl has a devil¡¯s luck,¡± she said, moving off to fuss at one of the other patrons.

    ¡°Miss Trundi, you don¡¯t know the half of it,¡± I slurred, flipping over another card for the red plane-touched, Mithra. Maybe I¡¯d had a bit much, too. Doing true readings for three of the girls hadn¡¯t helped my mental state. Though, at least Mithra started showing more interest in my cards than my coin as I did a reading for her. She¡¯d stopped trying to solicit me to spend my winnings between her legs after learning I wasn¡¯t as virginal as she assumed by about two years. When I first got to the Seeker¡¯s Guild, before I¡¯d made an enemy of Tanlith Guifoyle, being the new, mysterious boy from the lower city with something to do with the defeat of Margot Bethane had opened doors and dropped drawers. But, it didn¡¯t last. Nothing does. Now, I was doing readings in a brothel.

    Not everyone in the Mop was interested in a free reading, though. I mentioned one of the girls to Mithra, an elf, who refused to get near either me or the Wills. Ordinarily I wouldn¡¯t care, but she had the Prince of Demons inverted in her crown. Which suggested she was a point of contention between multiple people plotting together. Jealous lovers, maybe? Who knew?

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind Lenise,¡± said Mithra. Her tail rubbed my leg under the table. ¡°She¡¯s new to the life. Besides, it¡¯s rude to talk about other women when you¡¯re in the company of one.¡± She pointed down. ¡°What¡¯s that one mean?¡±

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    I looked at the cards¡ªcard. Then blinked. Definitely only one. I got the cards to stay still, but the room started spinning instead. The four of peaks. I checked to make sure to send my will into the deck and realized it was already there. ¡°Goals,¡± I said. I had trouble remembering what about them, exactly. ¡°Are you meeting them?¡±

    Mithra pursed her lips and rested her chin in her hand. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a work night. But my clothes are still on, and I¡¯m sitting here with you. So, not presently. Are you really a Seeker?¡±

    I flipped over another one. The three of demons. ¡°Not goals, deals. Something you bargained for is coming full-circle.¡±

    Mithra knocked the cards out of the array. The deck buzzed, feeling almost affronted.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I said. But the plane-touched just laughed. She leaned in.

    ¡°Boring! So¡­ what is Annalisa, to you?¡± she asked.

    The abrupt right turn confused me. ¡°She¡¯s a friend,¡± I said.

    ¡°Just a friend?¡± She cocked an eyebrow.

    I scowled. ¡°What else¡¯d she be?¡±

    A smirk crawled across Mithra¡¯s face. ¡°Well, she has been going on about you two being lovers.¡±

    ¡°She what?!¡± I demanded, and then remembered the lovers arcana. I couldn¡¯t see it reflected in Mithra¡¯s eyes. Somehow, I¡¯d bound Annalisa to me. ¡°It¡¯s not like that,¡± I promised ¡°She means something else.¡±

    ¡°What about the tail freak thing?¡±

    ¡°THATWASAMISUNDERSTANDING!¡± I nearly shouted, feeling my cheeks burn.

    Mithra laughed. ¡°Good, because that girl¡¯s got a jealous streak a mile wide, and I heard what she did to that lamia. I¡¯d hate to be on her shit list just for talking to you. And Damen was worried about getting on yours, as well.¡± She leaned in and batted her lashes at me. ¡°Though, I know you¡¯re really a softie,¡±

    ¡°Shush. Who¡¯s Damen?¡± I asked.

    Mithra jerked a thumb behind her, where some of the male talent reclined at the bar. One of them saw us looking and waved, nervously. He was an elf. Tall, muscular, handsome, fashionable. Reminded me a bit too much of Tanlith Guifoyle, for my liking. I scowled. ¡°I never even met him!¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said Mithra, ¡°He¡¯s taken a bit of a shine to Annalisa. Or rather, a shine to her shine, if you catch my meaning. He¡¯s got a thing for short women with deep pockets.¡±

    I glanced back at the elf, eyebrow raising. I sent my will into the deck again and drew a single card. The fool, inverted. Recklessness, unthinking, impulsivity. ¡°He should reconsider the choices that brought him to this moment. May the gods vouchsafe his loins.¡±

    Mithra cocked her head at me but gave her co-sexworker the thumbs up. ¡°You¡¯re an odd one, Darcent.¡±

    Dimen pushed off the bar, and intercepted Anna on her way back in, still doing up the buttons on her breeches in the wrong order. She looked up at him and listened to what he had to say, eyes alert and mouth slightly open. He didn¡¯t have to make much of a speech. Annalisa¡¯s face turned a color somewhat closer to Mithra¡¯s. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, stuffing it against the elf¡¯s chest. She turned, and ran toward the stairs, pulling the unfortunate elf behind her by her tail wrapped around his wrist. She snagged a decanter of something on her way up. Hopefully something strong and numbing, for Damen¡¯s sake.

    ¡°Huh,¡± said Mithra. ¡°Not how I expected that to go.¡±

    ¡°Exactly, how I expected that to go,¡± I grumbled. I willed the cards through the air, forming them into a pair of chains, in my best attempt to imitate the swimming motion of the wane dragons. ¡°Seeker,¡± I whispered. She rolled her eyes. I frowned, and shifted them into a spinning ring, and then a blooming flower. Mithra just cocked her eyebrow at me. I called the deck back and harrumphed. These telekinetic patterns were really just basic attunement exercises from the academy to help novices empathize with the Wills in their individual decks, but they usually got at least some response from non-Seekers.

    A few moments later the oil lamps began to shake as though from repeated impacts, and I had to cover my cup as dust drifted down from the ceiling. Everyone in the common room turned their eyes up as the rafters continued to bounce. Even the card players put down their strange cards.

    ¡°I think that¡¯d be my cue,¡± I said, pushing back from the table. I stood up, but the room swam. I looked around for the door and had to focus until the two I could see consolidated. Before I could put one foot in front of the other, Mithra¡¯s tail hooked my collar.

    ¡°Hold on, mister seeker. You¡¯re in no shape to walk home. Let¡¯s get you into bed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not in no shape,¡± I said. I frowned. ¡°I¡¯m in any shape. Mm. What you said.¡±

    Mithra turned me around and steered me away from the table. I swept up my cards along the way and stuffed them back into my robes. Her own room was on the second floor (which Annalisa currently seemed to be doing her damndest to collapse), but she steered me back behind the bar to a part of the brothel I¡¯d never been in. There were smaller rooms here; little more than a cot and a couple of thread bare blankets in each. A few of them held snoring figures, though how they¡¯d slept with the cacophony I couldn¡¯t tell you.

    ¡°Kridick¡¯s men use these between jobs. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll mind.¡±

    ¡°Penny-pinching orc¡¯ll probly charge me double,¡± I muttered. But I was helpless to prevent Mithra from sitting me down. I sighed and pulled my feet up. Mithra made a disgusted noise and started tugging my boots off.

    ¡°Why do men always try to sleep in their boots?¡± she demanded, freeing one, then the other.

    ¡°Emergencies,¡± I mumbled. I pulled the blanket half over me. ¡°Thanks.¡± She patted me on the arm and then walked out, closing the door behind her. She was still on shift, after all.

 Chapter 22 - Lower City Squabbles

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 Chapter 23 - Aftermath

    Chapter 23 - Aftermath

    The raid had been as brief as possible to avoid a prolonged skirmish, and they¡¯d brought the mage to cover their tracks. I doubt they expected me or Annalisa to throw a knife into their plans. I tugged the dirty towel off my face and looked at the damage. The public room didn¡¯t look all that more disorderly than usual, aside from the blood. But it felt absent with the talent they¡¯d stolen.

    I helped Annalisa to her feet. She looked between the man I killed and the adventurer whose neck she¡¯d broken. She¡¯d gone a pale blue, almost as pale as the wane dragons. I realized that, even though she¡¯d been training to fight and had no problem stepping into a pit with an opponent bent on her blood, she¡¯d never intended to actually kill anyone. She stared down at the pair, and at the blood on the floor. I put my hands on her shoulders.

    ¡°Thank you, Annalisa,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re my bodyguard.¡±

    ¡°I just¡­¡± she swallowed, and then dropped to her knees and emptied her stomach on the floor. ¡°Oh gods.¡±

    ¡°Anna!¡± I said, lifting her chin. ¡°Look at me.¡±

    She managed to tear her eyes away. from the bodies, but I could see they were still filled with tears.

    ¡°You protected me. You protected them,¡± I said, gesturing to the girls in the corner they hadn¡¯t managed to take. She looked at the blood-spattered women and I could see her stomach buck again. She doubled over.

    I patted her on the back. For all the drunk and piss and spit in the woman, she still struck me as naive. Dragonmaw had just swallowed a huge chunk of her that would never come back.

    Kridick¡¯s fighters filed back in from the street. ¡°Gone,¡± one growled. It was the dwarf, Gronn, from the pits. Most of Kridick¡¯s gang was made up of current and former pit fighters that he¡¯d known in the circuits. It wasn¡¯t a big gang, but each one was a terror in close quarters. It was no wonder the raid had been so swift.

    Another, a pale drakkyn, walked over to the dead men and pulled down their masks, Scowling. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize this one,¡± he said of the one I¡¯d stabbed. The adventurer he just probed with his toe. ¡°This one is just a rented blade,¡± he spat. ¡°Adventurers. Piss on ¡®em.¡± He glanced around, and then began to pry off the rings on the swordsman¡¯s fingers.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Those are magical.¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to take ¡®em,¡± he said.

    I didn¡¯t point out they were dangerous. ¡°They¡¯re not yours to take. Annalisa took him down.¡± I knew magic rings would be the furthest thing from her mind, at the moment. But there might come a time when one of those rings meant a sword dodged and one stuck through her liver.

    ¡°Well then she can come and take ¡®em,¡± the lizard snarled. ¡°Once she¡¯s done sniveling in her own sick. Unless you¡¯d care to try.¡±

    ¡°Leave off,¡± said the Gronn. ¡°Don¡¯t go pissing off Kridick¡¯s new pet mage.¡± Despite his words, he tossed a look of pitying disgust at the plane-touched pit fighter. ¡°The devil born just ¡®ad her first taste. Wager she earned it. Go and fetch Kridick and Zar.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± said the lizard. He tossed the rings down, and they landed in the blood. I quickly scooped them up and held them for Annalisa. I also grabbed the chopper¡¯s guild badge. The enchantment on it shifted, Already trying to analyze and categorize my own abilities. I already had one pinned to the inside of my robe, but I stuffed the second one in a pocket. Now we had one for Annalisa, too.

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    The dwarf turned to me. ¡°And you. Help me get these blokes to the canal before anyone else comes sniffing, yeah?¡± he lowered his voice. ¡°Or before my wife finds out about this,¡± he intoned. Surely he couldn¡¯t mean¡­

    ¡°Miss Trundi?¡± I asked. The dwarf grinned and waggled his bushy eyebrows at me. ¡°That¡¯s Madam Miss Trundi, to you, seeker. Be a good lad and get ¡®is legs.¡±

    I picked his feet up and recoiled. ¡°Ugh, he smells like a rancid tide pool.¡±

    ¡°Cor, you ain¡¯t wrong, kid,¡± said Gronn. He pulled down the scarf over the Mayazian¡¯s face and I recoiled. And not just because the smell worsened.

    ¡°Ugh, what is that?¡± I asked. The man was human, mostly, I think. But his flesh was pale and sickly, almost scaly at the chin and neck. He had sigils carved on both cheeks so that they had scarred.

    Gronn shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it looks like something that belongs in the sea. So let¡¯s help it back on its way.¡±

    Luckily, the two men weren¡¯t any heavier than normal humans. By the time we made it back, Kridick had gotten to the Mop n¡¯ Bucket, Looking angrier than I¡¯ve ever seen. He growled when he saw me. ¡°What good¡¯s a mage if you can¡¯t even fend off a few bandits?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said. ¡°They had a mage. And more men. All we had were hangovers. Who even attacks a brothel?¡±

    ¡°Without anyone left alive, there¡¯s no way to know,¡± snapped Kridick. Literally snapped. The living lightning of his drakkyn half was barely contained.

    I had meant that ironically, but I didn¡¯t figure pointing that out to the steaming drork would be conducive to my continued existence. It made little sense to steal girls when you could just hire them for an hour, Instead, I focused on the small amount of information I did have. ¡°That mage worked for the Mayazian. He was at the fight last night.¡±

    ¡°Are you certain?¡±

    ¡°Definitely. Used the same spell today as he used on Annalisa during the fight. Some sort of web-puppeteer strings. More powerful without the dragons sapping it, but definitely the same.¡±

    Kridick ran his fingers through his tangled beard. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t leave Harrowdown for this without orders from Mother Mayaz. There¡¯s no way she knows what she¡¯s got. That mage ain¡¯t the only one pulling strings here.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°What does she have, Kridick?¡±

    He weighed telling me, rolling the story around in his mouth before deciding better. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know. Sufficed to say, we need to get those girls back before this sets the streets on fire.¡±

    ¡°You mean a war with the Mayazian?¡±

    The half-orc shook his head. ¡°This is bigger than the downs, boy. And right now, we got very little to go on.¡±

    Bigger than the downs. I wonder if this involved the bookie¡¯s mysterious upper-class benefactor, Daggertongue. I pulled my deck out and rifled through the cards. The orc¡¯s pale cheeks reddened with anger. ¡°Going to do a reading then, are you? Might be a bit late for that. You should¡¯a done it an hour ago. Put them silly things away before they find themselves lodged in your throat.¡±

    The deck felt affronted at that. They buzzed in anger at the mongrel. ¡°Kridick, I couldn¡¯t do a reading right now, even if I thought it could help. You need a full deck for a reading.¡± The boss of the Barrowdown just glared at me, uninterested in theatrics. I cut to the chase. ¡°I was about to invoke a new card when the mage hit me. That card might currently be in the cuff of one of the girls¡¯ dresses¡±

    ¡°Darcent,¡± said Kridick in a low, dangerous voice. ¡°Unless the next words out of your mouth are ¡°I can sense where the card is,¡± you¡¯re going to have a very short, very painful remainder of your life.¡±

    ¡°I can sense where the card is,¡± I said, quickly. Snark will get you knifed in the middle city. ¡°But if that mage is there, we should wait until night. He¡¯ll be weaker, but I won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Nightfall is a few hours off,¡± said Kridick. He stormed out the door. ¡°On me, boys,¡± he said. Then the old pit fighter pointed at me. ¡°That¡¯s a few scant hours to sort this mess out before you and the devilborn start cracking skulls.¡±

    ¡°Us?¡± I demanded. Annalisa had remained mostly still and quiet¡ªthe only time I¡¯d ever seen the woman not bouncing off the walls and running her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m not one to storm the castle, and she¡¯s in no shape.¡±

    ¡°Figure it out,¡± snapped Kridick. ¡°Link with Zarry at the Broken Axel in Hollowdown. Sun drops and you ain¡¯t heard from him or me, you go in and you get those girls.¡±

    He slammed the door so hard the entire building rattled.

 Chapter 24 - Meditations on Wills

    Chapter 24 - Meditations on Wills

    The first thing you must realize is that all traditionally-held ideals on the cultivation of the Deck of Wills are comfortable half-truths at best. And, at worst, seductive, contemptible lies. We think of them as concepts, yet the truth is in the very name. Wills are so much more than simple ideas.

    -Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills

    I started to panic but sat on the floor next to Annalisa and meditated to control my breathing and terror. Being sent into the hydra¡¯s den. This was making my way, under Kridick. If I wanted to be someone in this town, this was the path forward and upward. Until it turned into a path to the grave. Unlike Annalisa, I felt little sympathy for the Mayaz knifemen. They had come into our house. They had taken our people. I wanted to make them pay. I wanted back what was ours. The knaves, dragons, and towers all buzzed with agreement.

    My dilemma wasn¡¯t one of will, but of ability. As a mage, I was just beginning to come into my own. But, I was hardly a fighter. I could certainly knife someone with their back turned, as I¡¯ve proved on two occasions. I could sneak magic into someone else¡¯s fight to great benefit. I could magnify Annalisa¡¯s power to heights she couldn¡¯t reach on her own. At least, not yet. But I, myself, wasn¡¯t much of a head-on kind of guy. To the east somewhere, my missing card buzzed. The five of knaves, my newest bonded card, and my first five. And getting it, and the girls back, would require a head-on approach.

    Still, the fact that I¡¯d bonded with a five excited me. All the suits ran two through five, with the suit lords taking the position of the ace. The numbers didn¡¯t necessarily scale linearly with power, though each card should get slightly stronger as more of its suit is unlocked. The lower three cards in a given suit were self-centered cards, blunt instruments, and surface-level concepts and relationships that were reflected in the simple, direct nature of their associated spells. But the higher cards represent a higher level of relationship to human emotions and conceptual understanding with the theory behind the suits themselves. Intrinsic links with the wills behind the deck aligned with subtleties of concept that ultimately determined mastery. If I¡¯d bonded with the five, theory held that I could potentially master the suit. Mastery of a suit generally boiled down to a seemingly simple challenge that was, in practice, rarely successful. The philosophy behind the entire suit, all five conceptual levels, had to be understood as a single idea. The significance hit me. I could master a suit.

    It meant I wasn¡¯t broken as a soul-seeker¡ªor, at least, that I might not be broken. I was starting to come to terms with the fact that not everything I¡¯d learned within the halls of the Seekers Guild had been entirely accurate. Still, the consideration of theories and lectures put me in a calmer, more rational place regarding the Mayazians. I still didn¡¯t know what I was going to do. There were infinite possibilities to consider, even unorthodox ones like cutting and running, or even defecting to the Mayaz (who wouldn¡¯t want more mages on staff?). It was a complex quandary with no simple solution.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to help me get those girls, right?¡± asked Annalisa.

    The question was so sudden it completely shook me from my train of thought. I turned my head. She looked at me, black eyes glossy and cheeks wrinkled from tears. ¡°They were so nice to me, here.¡±

    That small kindness was all the reason she needed. Contrary to outward appearances, I knew Annalisa wasn¡¯t stupid. Just, somewhat blind where matters concerning her own self and abilities were concerned. The devilborn girl had a sentimental streak a mile long. Her primary guiding lights were not focused rationality but matters of the heart. I looked at the card reflected in her eyes, burning above my own forehead, and sighed. And yet, my fortunes were still tied to Annalisa. I breathed. ¡°You¡¯d go in there, even if it was just you, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be just me,¡± she said.

    I leaned my head back against the bar. ¡°No. It won¡¯t. Come with me.¡±

    I took her out of the grisly tableau of the Mop while the staff made an effort to clean the place up. Just because a handful of the talent had been taken didn¡¯t mean the rest could afford to stop plying their trade.

    We headed north a few streets to the money changer. I took Annalisa upstairs, and by the time we entered my rented room, the change in scenery had already done a world of good for her disposition. She sat on the bed¡ªthough sitting isn¡¯t really something Annalisa does. More bouncing with potential energy as she picked at what was quite possibly a scab on the mattress.

    I hesitated, briefly, before prying the loose brick from the mantle. Inside the crevice, the complete bloodstained deck waited. Fingers trembling, I reached in and pulled it out.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± asked Annalisa.

    Having never used the fel deck, I could still sense the Wills within, reaching out to make their mark on our world. I shuddered and released the binding.

    ¡°It¡¯s a special deck,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s powerful. Dangerous, even. Moreover, it¡¯s complete. I could use it for divination¡ªto get critical intel on what we¡¯re about to do. But... I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m ready to use it.¡± I fanned the cards out on the table, all too conscious of the red stains marking the surface of most of them. It twisted the portraits and ran in the carving, warping the very wood itself. I was careful not to feed the barest sliver of my will into it.

    What should I do?

    What kind of answer would this bloody piece of Dragonmaw¡¯s darkest hour give me? Could I even trust it? Or would the Wills overpower and use me, instead? I hovered my fingertips over the cards, steeling myself. I could sense them. They were a swirling maelstrom of malice and malcontent. They wanted to finish what they¡¯d started.

    I felt a hand lay on top of my own and flinched. But it was Annalisa. She looked at me, worried. I hadn¡¯t even heard her get off rat-bed. I swallowed. Gods, my mouth was dry. All the moisture seemed to have gone to my pores, because sweat ran freely down my back and under my arms.

    ¡°I¡¯m not ready for this deck, yet,¡± I said. I swept up the cards, rebound them, and put them back in the hollow.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go to Hollowdown.¡±

 Chapter 25 - Hollowdown

    Chapter 25 - Hollowdown

    Even getting close to the fel deck of Margot Bethane¡¯s right hand made my head hurt. I was more attuned to the deck than I ever had been before, and I wasn¡¯t sure if that made me more or less vulnerable to its influence. Mastering that particular pack of cards would be a significant challenge in and of itself¡ªone I certainly didn''t plan to mix with a crisis. So, even without a full set of Wills in hand, we left for Hollowdown.

    While Kridick had a stranglehold on the unsanctioned betting and fight pits in Barrowdown, it was only one of several slums spread across the lower city of Dragonmaw, called the Downs. The closer you got to the water, the worse things got. People got packed in as bad as fish from the canneries and the more people you have, the more friction. Things heat up. Hollowdown was the furthest one east and south, across the third unsheathing and down close to the bay. It was called such because you could hear your own footsteps echoing in the undercity on the streets. Everyone who walked those cobbles knew it was only a matter of time before it folded into the newest addition to the undercity beneath Dragonmaw. Nights were more dangerous in the hollow, as well. Monsters tended to find their way up to the surface there more often than in other districts. They prowled the streets, avoiding the patrols of adventurers hired to secure the lower city.

    I¡¯d traditionally avoided Hollowdown because it was much more dangerous for seekers than the rest of the middle and lower city. While we had been barred from visiting Barrowdown to watch fights in the pits, the Hollow had actively banned Seekers. Wagers here leaned toward games of skill and chance, while narcotic dens offered exotic delights delivered through the docks from every corner of the Bastard¡¯s pock-marked skin and beyond. Even taking into account how unwelcome we are at card tables, Seekers taking such illicit and addictive substances often found themselves victim to fanciful visions and convinced themselves they had become prophets. Falling afoul of tantalizing lies undermines the pillar of what Seekers actually seek, which is hidden truths about ourselves and others. Either way, I¡¯d left my robe at the room in favor of a nondescript cloak with a deep hood.

    I didn¡¯t know the Mayazians well, but Hollowdown¡¯s reputation for extracting silver from gamblers and even more silver from debtors was legendary¡ªas was the district¡¯s disdain for my kind. Mother Mayaz kept the streets in line with a silken fist clutched around the beating hearts of the loyal lieutenants under her. I don¡¯t mean that metaphorically. The woman was a witch of dark arts. I didn¡¯t want to run afoul of her magic, day or night.

    Annalisa and I skirted the outside of the unsheathing as we made our way east. The sun was low over the bay by the time we actually reached Hollowdown, and I could already smell the bitter sting of hallucinogenic smoke on the air. We were getting closer to the five of knaves. I felt it, east and just a bit north of us.

    Annalisa wore her customary vest over her blouse and trousers. She¡¯d added a kerchief around her neck to hide the bruises from her last fight, as well as a low hat and spectacles with the crystal lenses pulled out. None of which hid her devilborn skin or unique horns. I might have enjoyed anonymity, but after back-to-back wins in the unsanctioned fights, Annalisa could easily be recognized.

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    While we walked deeper into the downs, I experimented with the vision buff offered by the four of dragons. Dragon eyes were said to pierce all manner of enchantment or beguilement, but the spell seemed to go further than that. It also drew my attention to the imprints of concealed weapons, to sentries posted on the roof of a shrum den and the carpenter across from it.

    ¡°It smells like cinnamon and cloves, here,¡± said Annalisa, nostrils twitching. ¡°That¡¯s too nice a smell for a place this run down.¡±

    ¡°They use it in the shrum pipes to hide the scent it actually makes when you burn it.¡±

    Annalisa scowled. ¡°My brother uses shrum.¡±

    I looked over. ¡°One of your brothers is an addict?¡±

    My companion shook her head vehemently. ¡°He¡¯s an alchemist. He renders medicines for the Menders Guild. He uses it in his tonics. Says they can only give it to someone once, or they¡¯ll never stop craving it.¡±

    We passed figures strung out on the street, destitute with eyes staring a thousand yards away. ¡°It saps life like the dragons sap magic. This city devours people.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t the high lords do something about it?¡± Annalisa demanded. She looked up at the spires of the upper city. ¡°We can see them, they must be able to look down here and see this,¡± she said, spreading her hands.

    ¡°They¡¯re too busy counting the silver the dens and the downs put in their pocket,¡± I said. ¡°They profit from misery most of all. Besides, what are you going to do, sit around and make sure people don¡¯t crush up strange leaves and smoke them? There aren¡¯t enough adventurers in the city or under it to make something like that happen¡ªeven if half of them weren¡¯t on some kind of drug, themselves. No one wants to forget what they¡¯ve seen more than people who hunt monsters for a living.¡±

    Anna harrumphed.

    I turned us left as my missing card shifted more north than east. It brought us to a square with a fight pit in the center. Some of the locals wore the same sort of coat as the men who had attacked the Mop. Not definitive proof, but a sign that they had at least shopped at a tailor nearby. A lamp-lighter walked past us with an armed escort, and I took us across the street to avoid the armed duo.

    I tried not to look as I pulled on the perceptive power of the four of dragons again. I spotted two sentries in the dark shadows of high windows, as well as one trying to blend in with the tiles on the roof of the building opposite. A fourth walked behind us, and I could feel his attention burning. I kept us moving, and turned us left again.

    This was Mayazian territory, no doubt about it. The back of the building butted up against the aforementioned tailor, a money-changer, and a tobacco shop. The good news was that the building wasn¡¯t nearly big enough to be the headquarters. So I doubt we¡¯d run into Mother Mayaz down there. The bad news was I¡¯d seen six sentries already, and there were probably twice as many inside.

    I wasn¡¯t worried about Annalisa in a close-range brawl against the Mayazian knifemen¡ªeven armed with knives, Annalisa wouldn¡¯t hesitate. I¡¯d watched her dismantle the elf in our first fight together. Though, to be fair, she was stabbed several times in the process. But, no. My primary concerns were the string mage, his handler from the fight the night before, and any pit fighters or adventurers that could be waiting for a response from Kridick.

    ¡°We¡¯re walking in circles,¡± said Annalisa. ¡°Are you lost?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re casing. Come on,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s go find the Broken Axel.¡±

 Chapter 26 - The Broken Axel

    Chapter 26 - The Broken Axel

    The smell of the shrum in the Broken Axel probably could have been enough to evoke a hallucinagenic trip on its own. When we walked in, the smoke hung thick in the hot air, like an oily miasma. I could feel it soaking into my hair and skin and clothes. Annalisa nearly gagged.

    Beyond the drugs, this was the type of bar that catered to the sordid sort of scoundrels that met for nefarious ends. To that effect, each corner was a little bit extra dim. Cloaked individuals leaned in close to whisper about ill-fated plans. Dark eyes glared at us from within deep hoods.

    I¡¯m not sure what it says about me that I felt completely in my element.

    I pulled my own cloak¡¯s hood up and sidled into a table in an open dark corner. The wood smeared under my fingers. I tried to wipe them on my shirt, but it had already been saturated. At least I hadn¡¯t brought my seeker robe. I grumbled and ordered a drink.

    Annalisa cast about. ¡°Do you think anyone in here knows anything about the girls?¡± she asked.

    ¡°If they do, they¡¯re not likely to volunteer that information. And we¡¯d give too much away by asking.¡±

    Annalisa¡¯s knee bounced under the table. I could feel it rattling on the cheap floorboards, and the drink of the fellow at the next table threatened to vibrate off the table. He shot us a dirty look, but blanched when Annalisa returned it. You wouldn¡¯t think a plane-touched woman in a wide, floppy hat would be intimidating. But I think even a blindman could sense Annalisa¡¯s short fuse and willingness to fight over just about any opportunity. He quickly moved to another table.

    The light went from orange, to red, to the pale blue of the dragonlight while we waited. Eventually, a hulking mongrel orc ducked into the bar with a dwarf half the height, but equal in girth. I recognized him as the dwarf from the pits: Jeedle¡¯s brother, Gron. They spotted us, and Zarry made his way over to our table.

    ¡°You find the place?¡± he demanded, no preamble.

    I nodded. ¡°Buttoned up, guarded. I didn¡¯t get a look inside, but I can feel the card ain¡¯t moved. I take it things didn¡¯t go well with Mother Mayaz?¡±

    Miss Trundi¡¯s husband huffed. ¡°Kridick strike ye as the diplomatic sort?¡±

    Zarry stilled him. ¡°Yer voice carries, Gron. No, it didn¡¯t go well. She denied the raid. But we knew she would.¡± He pulled a scrap of parchment and a stick of charcoal from his belt pouch. ¡°Draw me a map.¡±

    I licked the tip of the charcoal and began to sketch out the block with the hideout. ¡°Got two entrances here, here, and probably one through the back of this butcher. Sentries here, here, and here. Second story is accessible by the neighboring roof here, but this window is sealed up. Got blindspots in the southeast corner here, and the northeast corner here and here.¡±

    Zarry pulled the sketch back over and his slit eyes widened. ¡°You sure you¡¯re not a cartographer, kid?¡± He passed it to the dwarf, who whistled, studied it, and then pocketed it.

    The four of dragons hummed contentedly in my deck. Most of those details were etched clear in my memory, which seemed to be a side effect of the spell¡¯s enhanced perception. ¡°So we¡¯re going in, then.¡± I said. Annalisa cracked her knuckles next to me.

    Zarry nodded. ¡°Aye. We¡¯re going in.¡± He held up one finger. ¡°You ought to know. Kridick¡¯s only interested in one of them girls.¡±

    ¡°We get them all,¡± hissed Annalisa.

    ¡°We try,¡± growled Zarry. ¡°But if It comes down to make a choice, grab Lenise.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°What makes her so special?¡±

    Zarry sucked at his front teeth. ¡°Can¡¯t tell you that, kid. But savvy this: you get her out, and Kridick¡¯s esteem of you goes way up. How much is it worth to you to be in the good graces of your creditor?¡±

    I crossed my arms. ¡°You know him better than I do, Zarry. How much is it worth?¡±

    The hulking mongrel scraped his chair in closer. I could smell the old drork on him. What¡¯s more, the lovers arcana burned over his own forehead. His fate was tied to Kridick¡¯s at least as much as mine was to Annalisa. ¡°He¡¯s mean and he¡¯s hard. But he¡¯s fair, Darcent.¡± Except when it came to fixing fights, of course. But I didn¡¯t mention that.

    Zarry continued. ¡°We¡¯ve got three solid fighters here, each more¡¯n a match for any three mayaz fighters.¡± I notice he didn¡¯t include me in that figure. I¡¯d seen Zarry completely body Annalisa without effort. I didn¡¯t know what rank he was in the pits, only that Kridick wouldn¡¯t trust a slouch to guard him. ¡°But it ain¡¯t their knives I¡¯m worried over. Cover us with your playing card hokem. We get in, get the girls, and get out before Mother Mayaz gets wind.¡±

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    ¡°And if she¡¯s in there?¡± I pointed out.

    ¡°She ain¡¯t,¡± said Zarry. ¡°Kridick had to go to the upper city to find her.¡±

    That made me feel a little more secure. I nodded. ¡°Ok. What are we waiting for?¡±

    Zarry looked at the fading light of the window. ¡°One more hour. We move at true darkness, give that mage¡¯s magic a chance to cool down. You¡¯re sure the dragons don¡¯t affect you, none?¡±

    I was loathe to discuss intricacies of my skill with the Deck of Wills. But I needed Zarry confident. ¡°I¡¯m sure. There¡¯s some theories as to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need the technicals,¡± said Zarry.

    ¡°Fine by me.¡±

    None of us ate, except Annalisa, who ate enough for the four of us. I guess when you grow up in a house with seven brothers, you learn to shovel everything in. Where she packed that food, I couldn¡¯t tell you. She was thicker at the hips and shoulders than most plane-touched, but that was toned muscle with barely a hint of softness.

    Maybe that relentless furnace inside her just needs a constant deluge of fuel. Either way, she practically bounced off the walls waiting to storm the Mayaz compound. She practically wore a hole through the floor, and Zarry had to threaten to gut her to get her to sit still for a moment.

    When the time finally came, she was out of her chair so fast her tail cracked like a whip, and waiting for us in the street outside the pub. I could still feel my card several blocks north of us. The east was our best bet, so we circled around to one of the blind spots.

    As we approached, I held the others back while I used the four of dragons. The shroud of darkness lifted, hurting my eyes with the sudden illumination. But it wasn¡¯t making light, just amplifying that of the wane dragons. If the blind spot was already known, then they¡¯d have someone watching approaches to it.

    ¡°South side of the street, peaked roof,¡± I whispered to the others. They followed where I was looking, but I doubt they could see them. I touched the four of dragons to Zarry''s shoulder, just for a moment, and the orc stiffened as the siphoned power enhanced his sight.

    ¡°Got ¡®im,¡± he said. Wait here.¡±

    The mongrel disappeared down an alley while the rest of us hunkered down.

    ¡°Bloody terror, that one,¡± said Gron, with more than a hint of respect.

    ¡°How¡¯d they end up running Barrowdown?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They were the toughest pro fighters in Dragonmaw. Once Zarry pulled Kridick out of the pit, it was only a matter of time before they started calling the shots.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± I said. ¡°I figured it would have been Kridick that pulled Zarry out.¡±

    Gron huffed a laugh. ¡°Kridick bought out his indenture, but Zarry was the one what gave him a reason to want more than cracking skulls for money.¡±

    My eyebrows rose. ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°I heard they been inseparable ever since,¡± said Gron. He waggled his eyebrows at Annalisa. ¡°Not unlike you and the mage here,¡±

    ¡°Not like that!¡± I protested.

    ¡°Darcent says we¡¯re marked as lovers,¡± said Annalisa.

    ¡°Not like that!¡± I hissed.

    A weight hit the cobbles just behind me, and I stiffened, knife coming out of my sheath. A heavy hand clamped it back down before I could draw it. Gods, he was quick. ¡°Peace, lad. Hells below, I could hear your yammering from the rooftops. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    I made to stand with the others, but he grabbed me. ¡°That thing with my eyes, what was it?¡±

    ¡°The four of dragons,¡± I said. ¡°Sometimes called the greed of dragons.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a stupid name for a spell. Does Kridick know you can do it?¡±

    The dragons raged in my deck. ¡°It¡¯s not stupid, it¡¯s been that for centuries,¡± I said, standing. ¡°And no, he doesn¡¯t.¡± I hoped they wouldn¡¯t refuse to help him again, if it came down to it. The dragons in the deck were just as prideful as the genuine article, I was coming to realize. As my bond grew stronger, so too did the feedback within the deck itself. I was glad I hadn¡¯t brought the blood-soaked cards I¡¯d been found with three years ago. I shuddered, just thinking about what dark wills might inhabit those fel cards. How had Margot¡¯s blood tainted them? Had it made them stronger? Almost certainly. Had it made them more dangerous? Invariably.

    I followed the other three across the alley, watching for patrols. As I knelt down in a patch of shadow, I felt a scraping sensation through the cobbles and jerked my hand away. Most of the residents of Hollowdown avoided this area after dark. It¡¯s not just the gangs making violence. Hollowdown was practically part of the undercity. Some of the denizens of the ruins beneath the streets felt that way on occasion, too.

    The corner of the Mayaz hideout offered concealment from three sides. With the sentry dispatched, we were able to get flush against the building next door. After scuttling up the wall, Zarry demanded the dragon¡¯s gaze again. Ugh. I obliged. He must have liked what he saw because he started hoisting us up to the roof one by one. The strength enchantment on his bracers flashed each time. He followed us up, staying low.

    ¡°We work our way from the roof down. Quick, quiet, and thorough. Don¡¯t want no alarms raised,¡± said Zarry. He looked specifically at Annalisa as he spoke. She nodded and thrashed her tail. I drew my knife as well as my deck. I itched, wishing I could do a reading on this raid. I felt blind without it.

    The roof to the hideout was about three feet lower across a narrow alley. Zarry vaulted it just as the rooftop sentry came around the corner. For all his bulk, the mongrel was quiet as any footpad. He scooped up the Mayazian and cracked his neck before the man could so much as shout. Zarry layed him down on the tiles, and we followed him to the trap door.

    Annalisa sat next to me, slightly shaking. I squeezed her arm. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s alright, we¡¯ve got this.¡±

    She looked back at me, and it wasn¡¯t fear in her eyes. Her tremors came from barely-contained energy. She wasn¡¯t scared. She was a powder keg that had been told to hold her fuse for hours. She waited while the girls from the Mop were held against their will. She was furious.

    Uh oh.

    Before I could say anything else, Zarry hefted up the heavy door in the roof, and Anna disappeared in a blue flash, tail whipping as it disappeared down the opening. Gron and I stared, slack jawed. But he recovered first, scowling. ¡°Should have expected it,¡± he said, sliding down himself. I could already hear shouting from below, and a scream as one of the sentries on the upper level was knocked out of the window he¡¯d been monitoring.

    ¡°Damn that devilborn girl!¡± grunted Zarry. ¡°She¡¯s going to get herself killed. If you''re gonna go, go now!¡±

    I lowered myself through the roof and looked around. Somewhere outside, a whistle sounded.

    ¡°Zar¡¯, we gotta move! Zar?¡±

    I looked up just in time to see the trap door slam closed above me.

 Chapter 27 - True Darkness

    Chapter 27 ¨C True Darkness

    Gron looked back at me. ¡°Where¡¯s the mongrel?¡±

    I just stared at the heavy door. ¡°He left us!¡± I said. I clenched my teeth. ¡°Bloody left us! We¡¯ve got to get out of here! Where¡¯s Anna?¡±

    ¡°Raising a ruckus,¡± said Gron. He shook his head. ¡°Lad, I¡¯ve seen her fight. She was never like this before. What did you do to that girl?¡±

    I took off down the hall, following the sounds of fighting. I vaulted over an unconscious Mayazian with filed teeth that were half in its mouth, half scattered across the floor. ¡°Me? I didn¡¯t do anything!¡±

    As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to make out thick graffiti smearing every flat surface. More of the sigils and strange symbols, splashed haphazard on the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. It smelled like a rotten bilge in the Mayaz safehouse. Another sentry was starting to come round as we passed. Gron cracked his head against the wall. ¡°Well she sure ain¡¯t the Annalisa from Jeedle¡¯s pit.¡±

    ¡°Maybe she just needed a little faith,¡± I said.

    ¡°Then she ought have joined a temple and been a cleric.¡±

    We found the stairs, and Annalisa barreling down them and into a pair of knifemen. The woman was in a rage, ducking one knife and shattering the owner¡¯s wrist while she wrapped the arm of the other with her tail and pulled him off balance.

    ¡°Anna!¡± I shouted. She was going through fighters almost as fast as the dwarf and I could move. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go! Cavalry¡¯s coming!¡±

    I almost tripped down the stairs. One of the knife-men was down, and the other had his back to me. I cloaked my knife with the two of knaves and drove it into his back. The man gasped out, watery blood spraying from his mouth. He had the same strange, sharpened teeth and scaly skin disease as the one from the Mop. Gron finished off the other with a hit from knuckles as hard and heavy as stones. But Annalisa was already around the corner.

    ¡°There¡¯s no time!¡± She shouted back. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving them!¡±

    ¡°No time until what!¡± I shouted. ¡°The alarm is already on!¡± I felt the card directly underneath us. Whatever else, the girls were still here. Sub level, I was sure. Maybe the basement would open up into one of the adjacent shops and we could get out that way. But our path still wasn¡¯t clear.

    I turned the corner and came face to face with both the bitterdeep lamia and her pet mage. Worse, behind us I could hear shouts and boots on the ground level.

    This time Kel wasn¡¯t bare-handed. She had four thin swords with barbed tips. She raised them into position. Anna sized the pair up. The mage, I think, recognized me from the Mop. He pointed.

    ¡°You!¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re fucked,¡± said Gron.

    ¡°We¡¯ve beat them once,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll do it again! Just buy us time,¡± I said to Gron. He huffed, looking between us and the other pair. But he fell back to deal with the footmen coming from the street.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to hold ¡®em away as best I can,¡± he said.

    ¡°We?¡± hissed the lamia. ¡°So, there was a fix.¡± she flourished her blades as I fanned out my cards. ¡°I knew this mewling blue whore could never have beaten me on her own.¡±

    I leaned over to Annalisa. ¡°We don¡¯t have three rounds to knock them out.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t need them,¡± she said. She launched herself Kel of Bitterdeep.

    It was all I could do to evoke the stone skin of the two of towers before the blades crashed down against Annalisa. One of them shattered against her onxy skin. But it felt like my spirit had taken the impact instead. I actually grunted with effort.

    Across from me, the web mage started working his spells. I brought the dragon¡¯s greed to my hand and evoked its enhanced sight. I could see the strings the mage had tossed into corners of the corridor, making a chaotic mess of things. The other ends bound themselves to Annalisa, and me as well. I could feel their resistance, fighting my efforts to pull away. I had my cards fanned out and raked them across the strings like a sawblade.

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    To my surprise (and his, I imagine), the web parted as our wills met. I kept my deck moving, flowing like a stream, and severed two of the bonds slowing Annalisa. She ducked back to avoid thrusts from opposite angles and punched the back of one of the swords. Its tip drove into the floorboards, and the deep sea lamia dropped it, focusing on keeping her two remaining blades moving. I severed the last of the webs within my reach, and on a whim, flicked a pair of cards through the air, severing another. It held my will long enough to cut the web. Just in time to let Annalisa slip to the side of a thrust that would have skewered her, shield or no shield.

    ¡°How are you doing that?¡± The mage across the hall demanded.

    ¡°Just sweeping up some cobwebs,¡± I replied. Just clearing the chaos of his magic and returning order to the hallway. I jerked as that resonated with something new in my deck. But I hardly had time to meditate on it in the middle of a fight for my life.

    Still, I thought I might have stumbled upon a new way to use my deck. I pulled the two of knaves and flooded my will into it. But instead of drawing the effect from the card, I left it within the card itself and flicked it at the mage. It spun, to all appearances, just a regular card. But it carried murderous intent, and I was sure the paranoid Mayazian mage could feel that. He crouched down to avoid it, not quite fast enough. The two of knaves sliced a bloody divot in his arm and then circled back to me, where I caught it. He cried out, clutching at the wound.

    It took a considerable amount of focus and will to keep the power within the cards. If I hadn¡¯t been pushing myself to improve for weeks, I don¡¯t think I could have managed it. But I had a solid way to perform ranged attacks, now.

    The lamia hissed. ¡°They¡¯re just cards, fool!¡± As if to illustrate, she intercepted the next one I threw at the mage. Her blade speared the card, and it practically shrieked in protest. But I''d thrown the three of knaves, and evoked the three of dragons, as well. A flaming apparition sprouted from the card, reaching toward the lamia with fiery fingertips. She shrieked and recoiled from the heat, but the barb on her sword kept the shadow clone moving with her. It seized her wrist, and I could smell sizzling fish. She dropped the sword, and the apparition with it.

    How¡¯s that for just cards, bitch.

    I nearly blacked out, maintaining the effects of all those cards at once. I had to release the stone skin and the dragon¡¯s gaze. I hoped Annalisa would feel that she had become vulnerable, but apparently, I needn¡¯t have worried. She had figured out how to use the chopper¡¯s ring of alacrity. Moving faster than I¡¯d ever seen her, she slipped inside the serpent¡¯s guard. A black, glassy sheen crept up Annalisa¡¯s hands. She drove the heel of her palm into the Lamia¡¯s throat, in the same way the lamia had done to her in the fight the day before.

    It wasn¡¯t just flesh that she struck with. She¡¯d called on the plane of obsidian and turned the side of her hand into a lethal, edged weapon. The Lamia had thick scales protecting her, but blood still oozed from the wound. Annalisa pulled back and straightened her hand. She planned to mimic the straight-fingered thrust, as well. Well, if her hands were sharp, this should work.

    I charged the two of knaves and touched my will to Annalisa, projecting it onto her fingers. The darkness surrounding them deepened, coalescing until it was an inky black pitch. The devilborn fighter drove her hand home. Her fingers parted the scales at the creature¡¯s throat, as well as the flesh beneath. Practically decapitated, the serpentine fighter flopped to the floor, leaving nothing standing between the web mage, and a bloody, enraged prize fighter and her personal pocket mage.

    He knew the dance was up. Even if his comrades made it in, he would be dead. He pressed himself against the door opposite us as we approached down the hallway. I could feel my card, just beyond the threshold.

    He put his hands against the wall, facing away. I pulled a card from my deck at random and pressed it to his chest. ¡°This will burn your soul from your worthless body if you speak a lie to me,¡± I said. Nonsense, of course. ¡°How many men with the girls?¡±

    ¡°None,¡± he said. ¡°We weren¡¯t to let anyone in with them. Mother Mayaz had plans, didn¡¯t want their flesh fouled.¡±

    ¡°What plans?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I swear it!¡±

    Without my card, I couldn¡¯t do a reading to tell if he was being earnest, but I don¡¯t think he would have lied to me. I looked to the side. ¡°Annalisa?¡±

    She put her fist across his jaw, knocking out his candle and a few of his teeth. Once he was on the ground, she also put a boot in his ribs, and I had to pull her away to keep her from stomping on his skull.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough! Anna! What¡¯s gotten into you?¡±

    ¡°They took our friends!¡± she screamed, pulling away. ¡°How are you not angry? How are you not furious? What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±

    None of the girls from the Mop were what I¡¯d have called friends. I wasn¡¯t here for them. And I certainly wasn¡¯t here for Kridick anymore, not since his main squeeze ditched us to die in another gang¡¯s hideout. ¡°Right now, I¡¯m worried about you, Annalisa. I came to make sure you were safe.¡±

    She huffed, sniffed, and wiped at her nose. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be your bodyguard,¡± she said.

    The cards pulled at me. The deck yearned to be completed.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I said. I pulled the rusted chain off the door, and we went down into the cellar.

 Chapter 28 - Mother Mayaz

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 Chapter 29 - It Came From Below

    Chapter 29 - It Came From Below

    A blow to the underside of the floor cracked a half-dozen tiles under the feet of the fanged Mayazian knifemen. Several of the coat-clad sharks were thrown off their feet. Annalisa began to thrash, screaming. Mother Mayaz hissed and called her deck to her. The next blow forced a hand into the cellar, right next to one of the guards. It wrapped black, bubbling fingers around the fishy knifeman and pulled him back through¡ªonly, the hole was much too small for him to fit. I looked away as the man screamed. His bones crunched, and then, once below, his bones crunched, as whatever the thing was took a bite out of him.

    Mother Mayaz evoked her deck again, sending spears of light perforating the cellar floor. The thing howled, and smashed against the underside of the cellar again. This time, it tore a hole wide enough to start squeezing its own body through. Arms sprouted at odd angles from the black, amorphous thing. As did snarling snouts filled with too-human teeth. They sprouted seemingly at random and snapped at the Mayazians close by. Eyes formed on its flank, looking at those of us trapped. But there was enough intelligence in those eyes to dismiss us as the immediate threats.

    But there was hate there, also. We weren¡¯t safe, we were just next.

    Mother Mayaz invoked another spell, and her cards blurred as they spun in a fan around her. I¡¯ve seen Soul Seekers fight in duels before at the academy, but not like this. She wove the suit of streams and the suit of spears together to create a massive blade that cut the demon practically in half¡ªalong with one of her hapless minions that had gotten too close in a misguided attempt to delay the creature.

    Rather than dying like a sensible beast, the wide fissure simply sprouted teeth and the thing shoved the bifurcated Mayazian into it like it was a light snack.

    ¡°Fall back!¡± shouted Mother Mayaz¡¯ lieutenant. She stepped in front of her boss and shot a look up at the woman, who seethed, but retreated up the stairs. A larger, broader foot soldier came forward, swinging with two swords that severed the creatures probing hands, only for them to immediately grow back.

    Luckily for us, Mother Mayaz¡¯ shadow retreated with her. I found myself freed from the bonds, pushing up to watch as the creature roared and pursued Mother Mayaz up into the hideout, arms sprouting at will to pull its bubbling, scraping body after its quarry. It fended off attacks from behind as more of the Mayazians got close, stabbing and chopping at it with long knives, thin swords, and heavy cleavers.

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    We couldn¡¯t waste this opportunity. There were still two of the Mayazian cutters in the cellar with us. I pulled my deck and evoked the five of knaves.

    Even at my limit, the card answered. I felt alacrity flow into me, and the two men jerked as the card siphoned their agility to me. You¡¯ve taken from me, I thought. Now it¡¯s my turn to take from you.

    I was up in a flash. I don¡¯t even think the first one realized I was free before I drove my knife into his neck. His flesh parted¡ªwhite, like that of a fish, instead of red like a man¡¯s. The other turned, slowed by the five of rogues. But his cleaver still had enough strength behind it to take my head off. Before I could free my knife, Gron swept his legs out from under him and pushed him into the hole left by the undercity demon. I heard his scream for longer than I would have thought before the man hit something solid with a splat and the scream choked off with a wet gurgle.

    I pulled Annalisa up, too. Something about that demon had left both her and Mithra sickened. I set Mithra to helping the other talent from the Mop, who were staring after the demon with various expressions of shock and abject horror.

    ¡°Annalisa!¡± I called, pointing toward the stairs to the butcher¡¯s on the opposite side of the street from the Mayaz hideout. She nodded and ran up the stairs. The door at the top had been barred by retreating Mayazians, but with a burst of the three of dragons that nearly made me pass out, Annalisa hit it like a boulder and splintered the door off its rusted hinges.

    The shop itself was deserted, thankfully. At least some of those fishy bastards had a keen enough sense of self-preservation to get themselves gone. Across the street, the Mayaz headquartered was alive with the flashes of magic and the roars of infernal demons. People had started to come out into the street at the commotion, but I pulled everyone past them, heading west as fast as I thought the beleaguered captives could move after a day of hanging by their wrists. Safety was not in Hollowdown this night. The undercity had made itself known.

    Mother Mayaz had drawn the demon back into her gang''s safehouse, where she had the home-ground advantage, in order to fight it. Who would win? I don¡¯t know. I couldn¡¯t even tell you which of the two scared me more, but I didn¡¯t want to stick around to see which one would be left to turn its eyes on us.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I said, helping the crew from the mop out of the basement. Clanging alarms had begun to sound in the district, and at least one fire spell burst out the side of the Mayaz hideout to splash flames on the butcher¡¯s shop above our heads. I rolled out of the way as the flaming sign came swinging down to crash through the glass window. Flames began to lick at the tiling, and glass bottles within started to erupt with a pop, pop noise. At least we weren¡¯t in Kindledown. Here, you could fight a fire.

    ¡°Go, go!¡± I shouted.

    Anna ran alongside the girls she¡¯d come to rescue, counting them. ¡°They¡¯re all here!¡± she reported.

    ¡°Let¡¯s none of us be here!¡± I said.

    An inhuman roar issued out of the Mayaz hideout, and I looked back just in time to see six spears of ice pierce the side of the building. They dripped black ichor at their tips, and it steamed and hissed when it hit the cobbles.

    Well, I guess that answered that question.

 Chapter 30 - Split Decisions

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 Chapter 31 - An Opening at the Mop and Bucket

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 Chapter 32 - Interlude II

    Chapter 32 ¨C Interlude II

    Six years ago

    Prologue - The Fel Witch of Dragonmaw

    Beneath the pale light of twin serpentine ghosts, the city of Dragonmaw burned. Not for the first time, or likely, the last. Burning was something of a tradition for the city. The elves had built it. The orcs had razed it. The dwarves had raised it back up. The orcs had razed it again, and humans, never the quick study, were responsible for its latest incarnation. Dragonmaw swallows all, so the saying went. But, if it were up to one particularly bitter pill of a witch, this would be the last time anyone tore down this particular boil on the surface of the Bastard.

    The Fel Witch, Margot Bethane, descended narrow steps into the western slums of Kindledown. She strode to a song of ringing steel and distant screams. Where the witch stepped, inky footprints lingered, smeared by the ragged remains of the once-highborn''s expensive dress. From those inky pools, eyes gazed, tentacles probed, and tongues tasted. They sampled and savored this new and vulnerable world. A cloaked servant of the Fel Witch, careful to avoid those footprints, edged along the woman¡¯s trail.

    ¡°Mistress Bethane, the daemonologist has betrayed us. The astrologists have turned their eyes from the stars.¡±

    ¡°IT MATTERS NOT. THE WAY IS OPEN.¡±

    The cobbles vibrated under her voice. The light from the oil lamps lining the street seemed to retreat. At an unremarkable crossroads, the woman stopped. She pointed straight down with a finger dripping steaming pitch.

    ¡°READ HERE.¡±

    With a whimper, her craven servant stepped forward and drew a deck of thin wooden tarot cards: the Deck of Wills. It had taken great effort to forge the girl into something resembling a useful Soul Seeker, skilled in calling forth the magic of other worlds. But it would pay off tonight. The Deck of Wills spread out in the air. Three cards lifted themselves, infused with the servant¡¯s power to read the answer to Margot¡¯s question. Who has the power to stop me?

    Margot Bethane watched the wills reveal the answer. While she couldn¡¯t work them herself, she knew the reading well enough that she need not wait for her servant. She turned left, passing beneath a sign that read Stitch Alley¡ªnot that most of those living in it would have been able to read that marking. This was among the poorest districts in Dragonmaw. Not for long. All would be equal soon. Oblivion had that effect. If she could but hasten the convergence, it could be within months. So long as inconvenient prophecies from abyssal prophets could be sojourned, just for a little while.

    A column of spearmen turning the corner diverted her attention. They froze, staring when they saw the witch and her servant, but two of their number pushed themselves to the front: a swordsman and a mage. Idly, she noted their guild badges. Truesilver and Platinum. The 8th and 9th ranks of the Adventurers Guild. She was only slightly surprised they had kept their wits. Powerful, in their own right, she was curious what tricks they might bare against her.

    The pair didn¡¯t keep Bethane waiting long. The swordsman struck with his blade, creating a crescent of light that gouged a path through the cobbles, slicing stone as easily as air. Magic sword, she noted. Force enchantment. Bethane shoved it aside with a whim. Bricks exploded at her feet. The deflected crescent sheared through the corner of the building behind her, spilling dozens of loafs of bread from the bakery¡ªand half the baker, who she had sensed cowering among them.

    ¡°Bitch!¡± shouted the swordsman, looking at the mess of ruined flesh his handiwork had wrought.

    Strong as they might have been, Margot Bethane was a once-in-a-generation talent. She flicked her black-stained fingers forward, shaking loose drops of pitch that splashed upon the column of spears. The guild mage managed to erect a shield over herself and the swordsman, but the rest of the column was not so fortunate. Where the drops fell, they burned and blistered, and spread. Men and women screamed as their spears clattered to broken, cracked cobbles. Gaping wounds turned into lashing mouths filled with teeth and thrashing tentacles. New, blasphemous appendages pushed through holes not just in skin, but reality.

    The guild mage, protected behind her shield spell, watched in horror. The fact she could maintain such a working of arcane magic in the light of the magic-devouring wane dragons amused Bethane, but not enough to spare them. The guild mage dropped her shield and poured fire onto what remained of her own spearmen.

    ¡°Finish her!¡± the guild mage called. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you the time!¡± Flames filled the alley, curling up and singing the tiles of the steep roofs. Daub crisped and the air boiled. Dry town flats burst into flame. The swordsman pushed forward. He dipped into a stance, sword above his head, and whipped his blade in a wide, flat arc. Margot could sense the magic clinging to the blade. Not bad. Not enough. She lifted her hand. The crescent came sideways this time, shearing through the buildings to either side. Where the technique met her own shield spell, a sun-bright glare deflected the energy away. Not nearly enough.

    Behind, Margot felt a working of the Deck of Wills. Two disparate suits weaved together, and an eruption of stone spikes penetrated the cobbles beneath the adventurers, skewering the pair from stem to crown. They gasped, struggling against the barbs. Such fortitude to have not been instantly shredded. But they¡¯d soon wish they were.

    Bethane left them, walking past as figures lumbered, shambled, or rolled off into the night. Several of them stayed and set upon the spitted pair. None of them mattered. The flames from the mage¡¯s fire spell fled from her bare footsteps.

    Again they came to an intersection. Again, Margot Bethane pointed. ¡°READ HERE¡±

    Down. A cellar, this time. The bottom of a filthy hovel awaited her, unmarked and fetid. Indistinguishable from tens of thousands of others in Dragonmaw. Bethane descended the stone steps. The thick wooden door offered no resistance. She crushed it with her will alone, bending reality to her whim. The stone foundation fractured around it, and the door exploded inward, showering the interior with splinters.

    Bethane floated across the threshold, bare feet setting down among the splinters. Her simpering servant followed close behind, tripping on the detritus and sorting through the mess of cards in her hand.

    In the corner, dressed in filthy rags and already bleeding from a dozen splinters that pierced her flesh, a woman stood with her arms stretched to the side. A boy of perhaps fourteen peeked around her, though he might have seen clearly through the holes in his mother¡¯s threadbare linens. He clutched a knife in his malnourished hands. Neither looked as though they had seen a meal in weeks. Famine. Starvation. Soon to be things of the past. Soon, the slate to be wiped clean.

    ¡°Leave us be!¡± the mother called. ¡°There¡¯s nothing down here that you could want!¡±

    Bethane didn¡¯t answer her. Instead, she twitched her chin toward the shadows in the corner. Grasping claws and pincers shot from inky dark splotches on the stone, lifting the woman from her feet. She screamed, but the screams cut off just as suddenly as her head was pulled through, to those who waited beyond. The rest of her fell to the cobbles.

    A flick of her fingers moved the body from her path.

    Cards shuffled behind her. Her servant had done another reading. ¡°Mistress, more soldiers come! We are vulnerable here.¡±

    The mother¡¯s sacrifice had left a blood curse upon the boy. Margot regarded it. Contemptible. Born a pauper, it was likely the woman hadn¡¯t even known she had the talent. Ancient magics, obsolete in their function and tepid in strength, made for a paltry obstacle. She brushed them aside as one might sweep away cobwebs.

    ¡°WHO ARE YOU?¡± demanded Bethane, leaning over the boy. He said nothing, eyes wide in terror. Bethane grabbed him by the chin, points of her fingers leaving smoldering sores where they touched, but careful not to squeeze hard enough to crush his jaw. She needed him to live, needed him to speak. Else, she would have to find the next in line. She pulled a small silver mirror from her pocket and held it at an angle to see the boy¡¯s face in it. ¡°NAME YOURSELF!¡±

    The boy shouted. ¡°D-d-Darcent!¡±

    Bethane shook him harder. ¡°NO! YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE! NAME YOURSELF THUS!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± he yelled.

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    The timbers cracked as Bethane¡¯s temper grew hotter. The building threatened to collapse down upon the three of them. Behind her, she felt more power rising in her reader¡¯s deck.

    ¡°Mistress, the cards, something is happening!¡± her servant moaned.

    Fools and incompetents. That¡¯s who surrounded Margot Bethane. She growled. Squeezing harder. She felt bone start to give way ¡°YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE! SAY THE WORDS! SAY IT, SAY IT, SA¡ª¡°

    A thin blade erupted from Bethane¡¯s chest as her servant screamed. She heard the footfalls of her last ally pounding up the stone steps, even as the blade lifted her into the air. She looked down, uncomprehending. The various shields and protections she¡¯d woven, enough to deflect even a dragon¡¯s fire, fell away. All her defenses sheared through and pierced without apparent effort. Cards from the Deck of Wills fluttered in the air around her, settling to the floor of the cellar.

    Fetid breath, hot against her ear, chuckled and whispered in a voice lower than the deepest cavern. ¡°Sorry, witch. You¡¯re not the only one with designs for the whelp.¡±

    She felt a shock of pain as the knife slid up, carving a channel from her heart to her collarbone, and then twisted before withdrawing. Blood poured from the ragged hole in her flesh. She fell, unable even to gasp her dying breaths.

    For a time, minutes, maybe, the boy was alone. But the clatter of armored feet soon descended the stone steps.

    ¡°In here, cap¡¯n! I heard Bethane, I did. Said sommat about a chosen one! I reckon¡ª¡°

    The voices stopped at the tableau.

    ¡°Dragons above,¡± said a voice. What must have been the captain, as his helmet had a half-dozen feathers and his badge had a dark luster, stepped forward and nudged the dead sorceress with the cap of his toe. ¡°It is her.¡± He knelt down and picked up a handful of scattered cards. The two of knaves was soaked in Margot Bethane¡¯s blood. Not playing cards then, but the thin lacquer suits of the Deck of Wills that Soul Seekers used to read fortunes and conjure magics.

    ¡°Is this how you did it, lad?¡± he asked. The boy said nothing, clearly in shock. The captain sighed, turning to his second. ¡°Sergeant, we''ve got a mage, here. Get a detail to take this boy to the Seekers Guild.¡± he lifted the boys chin. ¡°You got a bright future ahead of you, boy. You¡¯re going to a magic academy.¡± He twisted and looked at the marks where Bethane¡¯s fingers had burnt his flesh with their very touch. He tilted his head to shout at his sergeant. ¡°And get a salve down here! No sense letting these burns scar over.¡±

    * * *

    Now

    It nearly killed her. Of all the stray demons Mother Mayaz had fought, that had been one of the worst. The formless horror had finally retreated after killing twelve of her disciples and letting those wretches from Barrowdown escape. She shook her head, hair still slick with gore. That had been too close, and it had the stink more than just the undercity about it. The whore hadn¡¯t been worth it. Whoever she really was, and her patron certainly wouldn¡¯t be keen to illuminate. No matter. The girl was nothing to her.

    But the boy¡­

    Mother Mayaz shuffled and cut her deck. Sticks of incense burned beside her, doing little to mask the smell of the carnage while the rest of her useless children scrubbed and scraped and picked shards of bone from the walls.

    The boy had the taste of Margot Bethane¡¯s blood on him¡ªsomething few had ever managed, in fact. Drawing blood from the fel witch of Dragonmaw was not something one did, let alone live to see the sun rise. And he would have been but a child when she fell. Mayaz drew three cards from the deck, three cards laced with her will, and spread them on the table under the pale oil lamp.

    The boy was a Soul Seeker, as well. She had felt the wild Wills in his deck that he had not yet managed to tame. Her own suits had given her some trouble, but the boy had an unruly chorus of stubborn suits. Would that have been enough that Margot would have sought him out? She collected Soul Seekers like trinkets. She used their reading to safeguard herself. But all her paranoia had gotten her was dead in a basement, her haste pushing the convergence back years. At one time, Mother Mayaz had designs on being her right-hand woman, standing beside her as the surface world fell and the deep law tore down the foul spires of Dragonmaw, striking the highlords from their towers. Now, the witch was little more than a bothersome memory of time and effort wasted.

    Mother Mayaz flipped the cards. She looked down, cocked her head, and began to laugh.

    So, that¡¯s who he was. Oh, but she ought to be thanking that demon for sparing him. But what to do with this knowledge. Sell it? Hoard it? Bury it deep and stay the course? Margot Bethane had enemies in the city who would be keen to disrupt her plans, even postmortem. Of course, she still had friends, too. Friends that worked desperately to continue the old witch¡¯s legacy.

    Oh, this would be interesting.

    She put the back of her hand to her temple. After evoking cards for over an hour to try and fend off that demon, even the simple reading had left her light-headed. Will debt was not something she had suffered in years. She caught the eye of one of her retainers.

    ¡°Child, come here,¡± she said. Her eyes glowed.

    The man dropped his mop and came to kneel before her. ¡°Yes, mother?¡± he asked.

    Mother Mayaz took him by the shoulders, drew him close, and sank her teeth into his neck. He bucked and thrashed, flopping and gasping as her teeth drove deep into his flesh. Her nails dug into his arms, holding him like vicious hooks.

    All around her, her children stopped to watch their brother die in her mouth. They dropped their buckets and their rags and their lye and approached her. One of her daughters took the dying man¡¯s arm in her hands, and bit down, crunching bone between her jaws. One by one, the rest of her children crowded around, vying for position. Within moments, little was left of the man but one more stain to be cleaned.

    Mother Mayaz wiped her mouth on an oft-stained sleeve. There was no taste like family.

    ***

    Kridick shouldered open the door to the small safehouse, heaving his love along on his opposite side.

    ¡°Lights, when did you get so heavy, Zar¡¯?¡±

    The mongrel coughed into Kridick¡¯s chest. ¡°Taking wagers all day has made you soft, you old drork.¡±

    ¡°Shush,¡± said Kridick. He looked down at the former pit fighter. Zarry had nearly died getting out of Hollowdown. And Kridick didn¡¯t know what he would have done if¡ªwell. He looked into Zarry¡¯s swollen eye, at the hint of mirth that persisted through the pain. It wasn¡¯t the wagers that had softened Kridick.

    But look where it had got them. On the lam. Few enough people knew about the girl, but one of them had set the Mayazians on the trail. Despite Daggertongue¡¯s efforts to keep her penned. But Daggertongue wouldn¡¯t see it that way. Kridick had failed to protect her, been out at brunch while a rival gang swooped in and took her right out of the front room. The useless fledgling mage had been in the room and done nothing.

    And that devilborn¡­ If Zarry was right, she had blown the whole rescue. Blown his one chance to get his and Zarry¡¯s heads off the chopping block. Daggertongue would do Zarry first, just to make Kridick watch. The damn plane-touched girl, barely more than a whelp herself, had botched it all. And then, not even had the decency to die in the process.

    Kridick made his way to the bed, laying the injured mongrel down. He¡¯d left soothing herbs and water for steeping by the bed and started to prepare a basic numbing tea. You learned how to salve wounds in the pits¡ªback when the fighters were mostly slaves. You learned to salve them, and you learned to live with them.

    ¡°It¡¯s not their fault,¡± said Zarry, as if reading Kridick¡¯s thoughts.

    ¡°Now who¡¯s soft?¡± growled Kridick. He put a hand on Zarry¡¯s chest. His shirt was matted with blood. The half-orc had lost his pursuers in the unsheathing, thanks to his orc half granting immunity, even at the center of the cursed district where the air still wavered and puddles boiled after the heavy summer rains. Both of them would be safe here.

    But Daggertongue would be waiting. If Kridick wanted to prove his use and keep their heads firmly upon their mongrel shoulders, he¡¯d have to worm his way back into Daggertongue¡¯s pocket. He had to get the girl back. And the path led straight through that thrice damned pair of kits that had caused far more trouble than he could have imagined.

    He knelt down and felt around underneath the bed frame until he found a small chest he¡¯d tucked there years prior. He pulled it out and opened it, revealing a set of items he¡¯d thought never to need again.

    ¡°Rest up, Zar¡¯. We¡¯ve found ourselves back in harm¡¯s way.¡±

    ***

    Annalisa sat in the corner of the room she¡¯d claimed at the Mop n¡¯ Bucket, back to the wall and arms wrapped around her knees. The light of dawn crept through the window, and the house was quiet. All those men who came to visit her friends had gone home or fallen asleep, and even the elf boy in her bed snored softly. But Annalisa hadn¡¯t slept in two days. Every time she tried, she saw that horrible pale lady with cards like Darcent¡¯s. Only, Darcent couldn¡¯t do that thing with the shadows. At least, she was pretty sure he couldn¡¯t.

    She hoped he couldn¡¯t. To be locked down, unable to move¡­ just like one of those sows wrapped in canvas. And they¡¯d very nearly ended up that same way. Annalisa shook her head.

    She had to be stronger. For Darcent, for her family, and for herself. She looked at her own trembling hands. The champion of Dragonmaw had to be tough¡ªthe toughest. So why did she feel so weak?

    It was because she knew, deep down, that she could have gotten them out of that cellar. If only she¡¯d been able to tunnel. She hated tunneling. It made her head fuzzy, and it was so hard to keep her mind in one place when it wanted to buzz about all the million amazing things she was going to do and see and experience. She could never keep it in once place. The only time it was easy was when Darcent used his magic to help her. But he had been trapped just the same as she was.

    It was in one place now. The shark-faced grin of Mother Mayaz burned in her mind. It was the only place her mind went to now. But it would be enough. Plane-touched, they called her. Devilborn. Ripped her way into the world through a birth born and bought with blood. The temperature in the room began to drop. It wasn¡¯t fair. She never chose it. Mother Mayaz had. Who was Mother Mayaz if not a devil? With those eyes and those teeth and that pale, pale skin?

    Annalisa held her shaking hands out in front of her. Mother Mayaz, and frost. Two things was way less than a million. If she could just make those two share a space. The shark lady could keep out everything else.

    Mother Mayaz and frost.

    Slowly, Annalisa began to tear open the veil between planes. Almost as soon as the breach opened, it collapsed with a burst of snowflakes and rime. They drifted down into her hands. But even though the temperature in the room had plummeted, her hands no longer shook.

    On the bed, the dozing elf mumbled and pulled the blankets tighter over himself.

    She held her hands out, flexing her muscles, and, again, reached for her connection. Her goal had only ever been to become stronger. And now, she had one more reason.

    Mother Mayaz and frost.

    She wouldn¡¯t be trapped again. Ever.

 Chapter 33 - Curios and Curios

    Arc III ¨C Neighbors

    Chapter 33 - Curios and Curios

    Kridick¡¯s disappearance left a gaping wound in the streets of Barrowdown. Kridick had been a right bastard, but the old drork had kept these alleys locked in an iron grip. With him out of the picture? Any thug with a cudgel thought they could move and demand protection from the businesses even just a few narrow streets away from the Mop. Fixers from other districts thought they could start throwing off odds for our pits. And as for odds? Well, all of them used to go through the Mop n¡¯ Bucket. But there was suddenly a wealth of entrepreneurial spirit in Barrowdown.

    In a word, chaos. But I would wrangle it, force the streets back to order as I had been over the last week. I¡¯d bring it back under control. My control. And that attitude had some unforeseen consequences.

    ¡°Remember, Annalisa. We¡¯re just going to talk to the guy first.¡±

    ¡°Actions speak louder than words,¡± she said, pounding her fist into her hand.

    ¡°And sometimes, so does silence. Look, we want him working. For us. Not dead or too busted up to ever come to the downs again. Someone else will just take his place.¡±

    The excitable devilborn grumbled. Her tail thrashed, actually knocking a bundle of hides out of a tanner¡¯s arms. He called out in anger, and then saw my robes and Annalisa¡¯s blue skin and quickly hurried on his way. I smiled. Our reputation was spreading. Unfortunately, it had spread further than the downs.

    We passed a notice board where a reasonable facsimile of me had been posted, along with a notice of bounty. I tore it down, along with Anna¡¯s, whose perky, barbed horns they couldn¡¯t seem to get right. I crumpled them and dropped them to the rest of the muck in the runnels. They¡¯d started popping up after the ruckus we¡¯d caused in Hollowdown. But that was thankfully the opposite direction from our current destination.

    West of Barrowdown lay Kindledown¡ªso named for the matchbox construction of its shanties and narrow tenements. When Dragonmaw burns, Kindledown conflagrates. That¡¯s a ten-cunning word for goes up like a barrel of drakkyn blasting powder.

    Sharing a border, it was often hard to see where one district ended and the other began. And that was the excuse the half-orc gangs of Kindledown used to start spreading influence east. I had come to redraw the map with those borders very clearly defined. I¡¯d brought Annalisa because our reputation was really her reputation. You see, her reward was three times mine. She was the vicious plane-touched pit fighter who¡¯d beaten a deep-sea lamia in the ring, and then tracked her down to finish the job. She was the blue streak that hit faster than you could see (when I buffed her with the dragon¡¯s stamina) and could see attacks coming from all angles (when under the dragon¡¯s gaze).

    I didn¡¯t mind being the power behind the power. It suited me, actually. The more people underestimated me, the easier I could catch them off guard when the cards came out. Anna, of course, took the opposite approach, as she did to most of my ideas, notions, advice, requests, demands, and expectations.

    She walked next to me, openly sporting the stolen adventurer''s guild badge on her vest. It had settled on rank 3, same as mine, after we¡¯d beaten the lamia and her fixer but been smashed by Mother Mayaz. I was a little shocked that we¡¯d come so far so quickly, having gone from a failed fortune teller with an unruly tarot deck and an unsuccessful punching bag to the rank where adventurers start delving the upper levels of the undercity. We were stronger together. I didn¡¯t know if that was the effect of the lovers arcana, or whether it was the other way around. In typical Annalisa fashion, rather than waiting for her archetype to settle, she¡¯d borrowed red lacquer nail paint from one of the girls at the mop and carefully painted in tiny block letters: Champion of Dragonmaw.

    Subtle. At some point, the guild was going to want its badges back. They were important enough that the guild issued low level missions to retrieve them from the wilds and the undercity when adventurers went missing.

    My badge had all but given up trying to assess me, and the little archetype enchantment just said sneaky enchanter. Which didn¡¯t sound like a real archetype, but I didn¡¯t blame the badge. Maybe I just defied categorization. Or, maybe Soul Seekers avoid the Adventurers Guild because most of them have at least half a brain.

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    The structures around us took on a decidedly more flammable aesthetic, so we''d gotten close to the border with Kindledown. One of the girls had come to me with information about an independent bookie here, operating out of a curio consignment and repair shop and offering odds on our fights. Called himself the broker. Probably thought he was being ironic. Really, he was being moronic.

    ¡°There,¡± I said, nodding to the curio shop. It was squeezed into a corner behind a dry culvert, nestled between two narrow storefronts and guarded by two narrow half-elves. I tapped the dragon¡¯s gaze beneath my robes and examined them from a distance. Both had weapons concealed. There was also a third that I hadn¡¯t noticed, smoking outside the pub across the street¡ª The sign above the window of the shop claimed Shaldar¡¯s curios and mysteries, exotic trinkets and foreign oddities.

    I approached the store, and the two guards pushed off the wall to intercept. Despite their slender frames, both were appropriately scarred for the lower city. One had his head shaved in a warrior¡¯s wedge that enhanced his hawkish features.

    ¡°Hold. I¡¯ll have to search you. And your...¡± he glanced at the badge on Annalisa and stifled a smirk when he read the label. ¡°...adventurer, will have to wait outside.¡±

    I put my hand on my hips and donned my best posh accent. ¡°Sir, those wanting to look under my robes, had best take me to dinner, first. A nice one.¡±

    He didn¡¯t budge. I sighed and made a show of removing my knife and handing it to Annalisa. I raised an eyebrow to the guard and he reluctantly nodded.

    As Annalisa accepted the knife, I leaned in and murmured ¡°Watch out for the one by the bar.¡± She looked uncomfortable as I leaned back, shifting furtively on the balls of her feet as though ready to fight or bolt. Typical, considering her seemingly boundless energy. But she¡¯d been different since our encounter with Mother Mayaz and the stray demon. More¡­ focused, I suppose. Well, if there was one thing the woman needed to work on, it was her attention span. Especially when she had a fight in just a few days time.

    The inside of the curio shop didn¡¯t disappoint, based on the collection of junk the proprietor had managed to accrue from all corners of the Bastard and beyond. I saw customers browsing porcelain from Saltforge, spices from the Strait of Kings, artwork from Azurenon, and a genuine bone-hilted dagger from the Mausoleum Plains. The last of which were very illegal, by the way, and are generally enchanted. I tapped the dragon¡¯s gaze a little bit and was disappointed to see that this one was a fake.

    However... a silk scarf glowed under a pile of dusty rags with foreign embroidery. I made my way over and drew it from the pile, examining the black mosaic pattern. Something about it drew me. I found myself wanting it for reasons unknown. I couldn¡¯t place the design¡ªnot that I was an expert in fashion, of course. Leave that business to the highborn, the fops, and their tailors. I couldn¡¯t tell what the enchantment did, of course. People made a living out of identifying and categorizing magical items.

    But I might be able to get close if I did a reading for it. I considered the cards in my pocket. Above all else, they were a divination tool, and at its core, magic item identification was a divination field.

    ¡°Ah, you have a discerning eye, Seeker!¡± said a voice behind me. His steps were punctuated by the cap of a cane hitting the floorboards, and I turned to face the grey-haired proprietor. ¡°That¡¯s a genuine elf-silk cravat from south of the Bronze Wastes. One of a kind!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure there are a thousand like it,¡± I mentioned. I let it fall back to the stack and looked around the rest of the shop with half-lidded eyes, as though what I saw thoroughly bored me. In truth, I¡¯d found curios fascinating ever since I was a boy, and on any other day would love nothing more to examine (and possibly pocket some of) the contents of the store. ¡°But I intend my transactions today to be more of a... mmm transient, nature.

    The proprietor feigned ignorance and glanced as his other patrons, none of whom seemed about to buy anything. ¡°Sir, I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re implying. This is a simple curios shop.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°A simple shop with such¡­ protection. It seems you don¡¯t trust me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve only just met you,¡±

    I sighed, and picked up the cravat again and jingled my purse beneath my robe. The one with coins in it, mind you. ¡°Perhaps if I were to buy something, that might make us more familiar?¡±

    The shopkeep eyed the silk in my hand with hungry eyes. Curio shops were many things, but profitable wasn¡¯t one of them. He probably relied on the patronage of the broker more than sales from the front of the store. ¡°Ten cunnings.¡±

    ¡°Ten?¡± I snarled. Ten was criminal for a simple length of tattered silk that might demand two cunnings, Though, ten was also a fraction of its true worth if the enchantment proved useful. And the shopkeep clearly wasn¡¯t aware of its true nature. ¡°This dishrag is barely fit to wipe the ink off my blotter. I shan¡¯t pay more than four.¡±

    Now in his element, the proprietor tapped his cane. ¡°I could perhaps lower my price to eight cunnings. As a special¡­ introductory price.¡±

    I looked at the scarf again, noticing a new stain on one of its corners. ¡°Now I look closer, I see this craftsmanship is quite fine.¡± I pulled out my purse and counted out eight pieces of silver stamped with an image of the pale dragons. I didn¡¯t really need to count it, because it emptied my purse. I dropped them into the eager hands of the curio proprietor.

    ¡°Excellent, sir. If you¡¯ll just follow me into the back, I¡¯ll get this wrapped for you.

 Chapter 34 - Brokier

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 Chapter 35 - Operational Deficiencies

    Chapter 35 ¨C Operational Deficiencies

    We took our time heading back to the Mop. I browsed a few more curios, though the proprietor was a good deal less friendly this time since I¡¯d taken advantage of his good will after he took advantage of my coin purse. Then we headed to a guild mender so that I could get a numbing salve for my new bruises. They¡¯d grandfathered Kridick¡¯s deal to fix up his gang and his fighters as-needed, so the pain relief was on credit. That included a stinging one across my face from the wild-kin¡¯s tail slapping me. Annalisa teased me mercilessly while I winced every time the old, nearsighted, foul-mouthed mender daubed his sticky compound on my face.

    Don¡¯t get me wrong, I enjoy a good scrap. Not whatever that disaster at Brokier¡¯s had been. It was the first time I¡¯d used the two of storms in a scuffle, and it hadn¡¯t gone quite how I expected it. When I realized I¡¯d bonded with the card, I dug into the stolen book from Master Hedwin¡¯s office for insight. Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills had some interesting things to say about the storms suit that ran counter to, well, every respected soul seeker ever.

    The thing is, I was no longer aiming to be a respectable soul seeker.

    Chiefly, everyone else thought storms were all about chaos and friction and lightning. Lancaster believed just the opposite. That a storm was an effort to move chaos and imbalance toward balance and order, through violent means. It was a suit of control. Just like he felt towers was a suit of denial instead of protection. I had to admit, I was coming around to his way of thinking. It had gotten me from barely able to fend off a feral mutated cat to jumping into dangerous dens of armed gangs and neutralizing battle wands mid-blast.

    We turned down the alley by the canal that would take us back to the Mop. A lamplighter moved past us with his hooded pilot flame at the end of an iron rod and tank of oil. Anna and I backed away from his two armed guards and pressed ourselves to the back of the building. The guards gave us surly looks as they passed. If there¡¯s one constant in the downs, it¡¯s this: You don¡¯t mess with the lamp-lighters guild.

    On a whim, I activated the dragon¡¯s gaze. Several pieces of armor across the guards lit up with the impression of enchantment. One of their heads snapped around and locked eyes with me.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± I said, dropping the evocation. I wasn¡¯t sure if he sensed the card itself or the scrying, but either spoke to impressive passive defenses. He looked me up and down, fingers tightening on the iron haft of a spiked rod. After a tense moment, he turned and caught up with the rest of his party.

    Still, the fact the most feared guild in Dragonmaw was steeped in magic items, and that even that wild-kin bookie had such a thing as a battle wand to hand reminded me where our own operation was lacking. I fingered my new (old) cravat. ¡°We need more magic items,¡± I said to Annalisa.

    She rubbed the solitary ring on her finger. I¡¯d taken two off the tough, but the other had been a ring of clear sinuses. Apparently, the adventurer had an issue with summer allergies. ¡°Can¡¯t you just make some?¡± she asked?

    I shook my head. ¡°You need a powerful arcanist and an expert craftsman to make a permanently enchanted item that will recharge itself instead of fading over time or going feral. I¡¯m neither.

    ¡°I think you could do it,¡± said Annalisa. ¡°You made those cards, and they¡¯re all sorts of magic.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s different,¡± I said. ¡°The cards are conceptual iconography that evoke predetermined metaphysical conduits when power is¡­¡± Annalisa¡¯s eyes had already started to glaze over. I huffed. ¡°It¡¯s just different. But, thanks for the vote of confidence.

    ¡°Can we buy some?¡± asked Annalisa. ¡°How much could they cost?¡±

    ¡°Any cost at all is a bit outside our budget, unfortunately,¡± I said, pressing my fingertips against a significantly lightened purse. ¡°That ring you¡¯re wearing? Two hundred cunnings, easy.¡±

    Annalisa¡¯s jaw dropped. She stared at the little brass ring of alacrity, as if trying to peer into its true value. For a moment I thought she might suggest selling it. But we both knew that tiny edge of increased speed had gotten us through the fight with the deep-sea lamia at Mother Mayaz¡¯ hideout. Her cheeks took on a bit of rose color. ¡°Planes, I¡¯ve never even seen a hundred cunnings.¡±

    ¡°Me either,¡± I said. In Stitch Alley, silver had been practically mythical. The debt collectors would have smelled a cunning from a half-mile off. My mother had once received three full cunnings as a tip for mending a particularly tricky dress. She had promised me a whole sweet cake to celebrate. But after being accosted three times on the road to the bakery with friendly reminders of overdue debts, we barely had enough left for the crumbs.

    The memory left a sour taste in my mouth. I hadn¡¯t really known what was going on at the time, only gotten angry that she¡¯d broke her promise. Recalling it now, it was obvious. Spirits fucking below, I was such a little shit. I guess looking back and being embarrassed by your younger self is a sign that you at least learned something. But I would never get the chance to apologize.

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    Our arrival to the Mop n¡¯ Bucket was heralded by the tack of hammers and the rasp of saws. Mother Mayaz¡¯ pet mage had done a number on the exterior as well as the interior. But at least the old cat house was open for business again. I pushed past the construction on the fa?ade and held the door open for Annalisa.

    My plane-touched partner went straight for the bar. She didn¡¯t concern herself with the operational side of the business as long as the girls stayed safe and she eventually got to throw a punch at someone stronger than herself. I took a moment to look around the interior and spotted a familiar quartet at one of the tables in the back tossing cards and coin. I approached them and pulled up a chair. They watched me as the legs scraped across the floorboards. The big one in the deep coat made to stand and say something about it, but the woman in the silk vest held a hand on his arm.

    ¡°Easy, Jack.¡± She looked at me. ¡°Don¡¯t expect us to deal you in, kit.¡±

    I waited for the big man to take his seat again. ¡°Nice of you to show up after the trouble.¡±

    The one with the queer lute licked his finger and drew a pair of cards off the deck. ¡°You want us to fight your battles for you, baby boy?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need you to fight mine,¡± I said. That got a laugh, which I brushed off. ¡°But I do need to know if you¡¯ll fight Kridick¡¯s.¡±

    The big one, Jack, barked a raw, phlegmy laugh. ¡°He wants to know if we¡¯re in the ol¡¯ crown''s pocket. How¡¯s that for a lark?¡± He stared me down and his voice turned into its deep, gravely growl. ¡°I look like one of his fighters, to you?¡±

    The brute was no stranger to a fight with his scars and crooked nose. And he had the easy economy of motion unique to especially dangerous men. ¡°Kinda, yeah.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in lots of pockets,¡± said the fourth figure at the table, winking at me. He was shorter than Jack, and almost as wide, with a square chin and an old-fashioned haircut that ran in a bowl around his chin. There was a pendant of a mountain around his throat. ¡°But not Kridick¡¯s. Right?¡±

    ¡°The beer is good here,¡± said Jack. He took as a swig as if to illustrate. ¡°And the company were, ¡®til about a minute prior to now.¡±

    I took the hint, standing. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. I gave a little mock bow. ¡°Enjoy the establishment,¡±

    ¡°Piss off, already!¡±

    I left them to their cards. I wanted nothing more than a drink and my bed for a few hours until sunset. But Miss Trundi approached me at the bar.

    ¡°There¡¯s an upper-city type waiting for you upstairs,¡± she said.

    ¡°Miss Trundi, I¡¯m not one of your charges,¡± I said. She¡¯d done a fine job keeping the bordello side of the Mop n¡¯ Bucket running smooth as silk in the upheaval. It seemed no matter where you went, the oldest profession was a sure thing. That silver was the only thing keeping the place afloat, and in repairs.

    ¡°Nay, boy. This one made even Kridick fret. You¡¯ll not want to keep him waiting.¡±

    I pursed my lips, looking at the fresh-poured lager. I passed it over to Annalisa and pushed to my feet with a sigh. Anna took it gladly and raised it. ¡°Cheers, lightweight!¡±

    ¡°Enjoy,¡± I said. But I needn¡¯t have bothered. The stein was already half-drained. My mind was already upstairs. With Kridick gone, I had expected a visit of this nature at some point in the future. After all, Kridick had run from someone. And he was one scary fuck. I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to be in bed with the sort that could scare him. But it was time to meet the devil.

    I made it half-way up the stairs before Mithra caught me coming the other way. She had street clothes on, and she would be on her way to make the rounds. It turns out, she had a natural affinity for intelligence gathering, and it seemed like half the whores in Dragonmaw owed her favors. Luckily, she owed me a big one, and was happy to pass on relevant news. She¡¯d slipped into the role of my unofficial spymaster just as well as she slipped into those tight corsets and trousers she favored on nights she worked the Mop¡¯s main floor.

    ¡°Any luck?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s a pair of drakkyn brothers pushing some new smoking tar from the south. They¡¯re selling it out of a dock warehouse on the edge of the downs. Supposed to make you feel like you¡¯re falling into a cloud.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I¡¯ll have to pay them a visit,¡± I said. It¡¯s not that I was against narcotics, or their sale. In theory. As long as we got our cut. But the mind-addled tend to only crave one thing, and I didn¡¯t want coin going to those two brothers that we desperately needed. Not to mention, an addiction could spread through a slum as fast as an open flame through Kindledown. There were plenty of legitimate businesses that would be affected. The smoother businesses ran, the easier protection was to provide¡ªand collect. ¡°What about the sharks?¡±

    ¡°Probing from the east. Jeedle¡¯s got his boys over there when they¡¯re not at the pits. After tonight¡¯s fight, he thinks they may back off.¡±

    ¡°If we win,¡± I said. I was going to be at that fight. The Mayazians were said to have tried to buy off the sniffer, but they proved to be incorruptible. Convenient for us, since we didn''t have deep enough pockets to dole out bribes. Still, I knew the Mayazians would try to cheat somehow. I had to be there to try to counter it. Sniffers couldn¡¯t sense my interference. No doubt there were others that had a light enough touch to sneak past. ¡°Thanks, Mithra,¡± I said.

    ¡°My pleasure, boss,¡± she said. And then stopped, pursed her lips, and then thought better of it.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Just¡­¡± she wrapped her arms around herself. ¡°It¡¯s strange. Kridick kept a hold on this place, kept it safe. But he took it out of the girls when he pleased. And he wasn¡¯t gentle.¡±

    ¡°I thought he didn¡¯t like girls,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, the boys were on the menu, too. Kridick was an orc of cruel appetites. I guess I was just worried you¡¯d end up more of the same. New boss, same as the old boss, you know? But I¡¯m starting to see that you¡¯re not him.¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t want to end up with a knife in my back while my trousers are around my ankles,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m so worried about death creeping up on me, mastering the deck, keeping Barrowdown on lock, and fixing the roof over our heads. It¡¯s hard to think about things like that¡ªnot that I have the silver to spare, in any case.¡±

    ¡°All work and no play,¡± she pouted. She walked past me, and I felt the whip-crack of her tail against my back-side. I hate to admit it, but I yelped, and looked back down the stairs at her. She winked up.

    ¡°Nice limp, killer. You know, there¡¯s plenty I can help you with that doesn¡¯t involve your little wand flapping in the wind.¡±

    ¡°Later,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a poor host that keeps his guest waiting.¡±

 Chapter 36 - The Tip of the Tongue

    Chapter 36 - The Tip of the Tongue

    I let myself into Kridick¡¯s old office and closed the door behind me. To my annoyance, the person who¡¯d come to meet me was sitting in my chair behind my desk, and the papers on top showed every indication of having been gone through. In fact, the elf had a missive in his hand as he tapped a finger against his cheek. He was wrapped in the fanciest rags this side of Dragonmaw, and the fact they weren¡¯t torn up from getting mugged multiple times on his way through the middle city told me, in no uncertain terms, that he was not to be fucked with.

    ¡°It seems you were detained, Mr¡­¡±

    ¡°Stitcher,¡± I said. ¡°Darcent Stitcher.¡± I didn¡¯t have a last name to speak of, so my mother''s profession seemed as good as any. Never knew my father, so he could keep his name to himself, wherever he was.

    The elf quirked a blonde eyebrow. He had a trace of the gold in him, which made the fact he was sitting in an orc¡¯s chair quite ironic. There¡¯s a bit of history between the two, as I¡¯ve mentioned. Not that I thought a glow-steel sword bearer was going to march in here and turn my office into a fifth unsheathing. I moved past him and eased out of my robe, wincing where I¡¯d taken most of the fall when the rat blasted me.

    ¡°Well, Mr. Stitches, in that case you may call me Mr. Threadripper. You can think of me as an intermediary between yourself and a certain individual with vested interests in the downs and the docks.¡±

    I huffed in amusement. No doubt he thought his little jest at my mistake to be quite clever, mistaking my moniker for a statement of bravado, rather than simply drawn from my home and my mother¡¯s profession as a seamstresses. A threadripper is a small, two-pronged device for tearing stitches out of a garment. But little more than a single-purpose tool.

    He continued, ¡°May I assume you know of whom I speak?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied.

    The elf continued. ¡°Some key interests have been upset by the loss of certain important individuals.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Do you know the whereabouts of the woman called Lenise?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said honestly. I¡¯d never asked Mithra where she¡¯d stashed the woman.

    ¡°And what of the criminal, Kridick?¡±

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    I turned around. ¡°We passing judgement on crooks, here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Just answer the question.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°But if you find him, let me know. I have a few things I¡¯d like to say to him myself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Threadripper leaned back, smiling. ¡°Just a formality, really. We already know he¡¯s hiding in one of the unsheathing. We don¡¯t know precisely where, but we know he can¡¯t do so forever. Either he comes out, or we hire mercenaries to go in. In the mean time, my superior would like assurances that this district will continue to run smoothly so as not to upset his designs.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of your superior. When am I expected to meet Daggertongue?¡±

    Threadripper¡¯s oil-slick smile spread across his face, dark and cruel. He had the prominent front teeth of a golden elf that gave him a natural arrogance. ¡°That certainly depends. When shall I tell him you expect to be worth meeting?¡±

    Except by his errand boys, apparently. I moved over to rat-bed and dropped the rest of my belongings. (yes, I¡¯d brought the thing over from the money-changers because I couldn¡¯t afford a new bed). ¡°You know,¡± I said. ¡°If Daggertongue wants this place running smooth, he could do something about Mother Mayaz breathing down my neck all the time.¡±

    Threadripper grinned, a predatory hawkish thing. ¡°Mr. Stitcher, what makes you think we haven¡¯t already? If you can¡¯t settle petty gang disputes on your own, why should he think you worth the additional expenditure of resources? The rewards come only after you¡¯ve proved you and your devilborn partner can stand on your own two feet. Kridick didn¡¯t run because he was scared of you. He ran because he lost something quite precious to Daggertongue, something he was charged to vouchsafe. Once you do more than fall back into an unearned chair emptied by another¡¯s hasty departure? Perhaps we can revisit.¡± he folded his hands. ¡°Besides, my intelligence tells me the Mayazians are greatly diminished in reach after the events of the last weeks.¡±

    I grunted, not wanting to contest the point, but I wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d done that would constitute help. This just drove home how alone we were against our enemies that even diminished sharks could smell blood in the water. And if we didn¡¯t want to count Daggertongue and his minions among our enemies, we¡¯d better make some serious strides in securing the downs. If the shadowy gangster, who was almost certainly a lord, as well, saw fit to replace us? We weren¡¯t strong enough to oppose the kind of pressure he could leverage. ¡°Fine.¡± I said, making my best effort not to grind my teeth. Even with all my troubles at the academy, things had never been this complicated. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    Threadripper dropped the paper he held and picked up another, scanning it. ¡°You should consider establishing the use of a cipher¡ªonce you have secrets worth keeping, of course. Not these droll matters.¡±

    The knaves in my deck buzzed with agreement, and I snapped my will at them to chide them for agreeing with the elf currently usurping my office. Don¡¯t help! I added.

    Threadripper stood and stretched, making a show of dusting his fine trousers off where they¡¯d touched my chair. ¡°Good luck, tonight, Mr. Stitcher,¡± he said, donning his cap and cape. ¡°Hopefully this fight won¡¯t result in additional structure fires.¡±

    Yeah, yeah. Get gone already. I smiled, opening the door for the elf. ¡°I make no promises that I can¡¯t keep, Mr. Threadripper.¡±

 Chapter 37 - Meditations on Wills II

    Chapter 37 - Meditations on Wills II

    With my office finally to myself, I ignored Kridick¡¯s old safe and went to a loose board by the window, prying it off to make sure that it hadn¡¯t been disturbed by Threadripper¡¯s prying. Either he hadn¡¯t found it, or he¡¯d spotted the safeguards against intrusion and reset them¡ªwhich would mean he was a vastly more dangerous agent than impressions would suggest. Beside Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills and the blood-soaked deck of Margot¡¯s personal seeker was my remaining stash of clips and cunnings. Hardly a dragon¡¯s horde, it barely amounted to enough to hire a few of the girls for the night¡¯s company. Not that I would be so wasteful with discretionary funds.

    On top of the manual was a journal I kept coded notes within. Honestly, who wouldn¡¯t use a cipher for the important bits? It outlined my plans, figures, and projections for expanding our influence within Barrowdown and beyond. All of those plans relied on one thing: growing stronger. Annalisa¡¯s progress was simple and comparatively straightforward. She hit things. As she became a better fighter, her martial prowess grew. As she became more in touch with the planes, obsidian would reinforce her body.

    As far as mages go, Soul Seeking is considered one of the more esoteric branches of the arcane. The systems are always in constant flux, and evocations between two seekers, even with matched suits, are wildly different. While an arcanist or an alchemist can learn a spell or formulae from a book and achieve reasonable results, Soul Seekers enhance their abilities only through bonding with the identities and concepts behind the cards.

    I hesitated for a moment over the journal, and instead pulled out the blood-stained deck. As soon as my fingers brushed it, the near constant whispering grew to a constant choir of unintelligible malevolence. I wasn¡¯t one to believe in mundane labels as ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®evil¡¯. Such things were often based on points of view or degrees of commitment to a cause or plan. But, if there was pure evil, Margot Bethane had perhaps been the closest thing to it. She still had servants in Dragonmaw, and unless I missed my mark, it seemed like Mother Mayaz was one of them. Margot had attracted all types of degenerate denizens, and the shark-like fanatics in Hollowdown sure fit the bill. I could see those sharks lining up behind her for any number of reasons, and Mother Mayaz herself had all but confirmed her true colors when she tasted the fel witch on my blood.

    I shuddered at that unpleasant memory. After wedging the board back in place, I looked out the window at the setting sun. The long office had windows running the length of it, and my guess was that this used to be a solarium for growing plants before the downs had swallowed it up and turned it into a cathouse. Unbroken pane glass wasn¡¯t especially common in Dragonmaw once you left the upper city. Especially not in the downs. The fact these remained, unbroken at that, was nothing short of a miracle.

    Rain began to patter off those windows as I took my seat and pushed the useless notes and missives out of the way. Anything important was told to me directly by Mithra, Trundi, or Jeedle. Hell, I¡¯m sure more of my allies were missing their letters than had found them. I needed the space for my deck. Not the blood-soaked deck. Not yet. I regarded the thing with no amount of suspicion as I pulled out my own and called forth all the cards I had bonded.

    In knaves, I had the two, three, and five. And I felt I was somewhat close to the four. Once I managed it, I should be able to call on the court of knaves. In dragons, I had the three and four. In both towers and storms, I had only managed the two of each suit. Seven cards out of my potential twenty, plus whatever major arcana with which I might someday developed kinship. Far more than I had just a few weeks prior, and no longer deficient in terms of progress. Most Soul Seekers didn¡¯t master four suits. At least, not for decades. I wasn¡¯t willing to wait that long, and knaves beneath my fingers echoed my impatience. I glanced at the badge hanging on my robe on the hook. Still third rank, even after my earlier fiasco with Brokier and the application of the two of storms.

    I searched the deck for both the four and the court of knaves and added them to the others. I held the court to my brow and channeled my will into it. But the card felt empty, bereft, and desolate. Even more so than usual.

    Sighing, I did the same with the four, the tongue of knaves. I almost fell back out of my chair when it answered my call immediately, draining my will to fuel a spell whose purpose I could not ascertain. I checked myself all over for markings or things popping out in my vision but saw nothing. Still, I had undoubtedly just activated it. I don¡¯t even know when I had bonded with it or have any clue as to its effect. Honestly, it¡¯s a good thing that had happened with such a benign card. If it had been, say the two of dragons, called the flame of dragons? The results could have been disastrous.

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    Despite what I had just said about benign cards, I quickly reached for the court of knaves again, with the same result. It was like the power behind the card just wasn¡¯t there. The inked forms of the lively court holding daggers, roses, and steins felt completely cold and empty. I poured more and more of my will into it. Answer me, I commanded.

    A flash of flight, a loud bang, and burst of, all things, rose petals, sprang from the card along with a mental response so clear and visceral that it knocked me back in the chair to sprawl across the floor.

    <ol>

    <li> </li>

    </ol>

    I pushed up to my elbows, ears ringing. The door opened, and Mithra pushed in with a cudgel, taking in the scene. Unfortunately, the scene was me lying on the floor amidst a pile of rose petals. She grinned. ¡°Is this all for me? I have to say, I prefer the bed¡ª¡± she looked at rat-bed ¡°¡ªmaybe not that bed.¡±

    Still dazed, and a bit salty at having been hit by three separate concussive blasts in one day, I climbed to my knees. ¡°Just meditating on some magic principles,¡± I said. Petals and cards still fluttered in the air, and I began to pull the latter into a pile as Mithra dropped her cudgel by the door and moved to help me to my feet.

    ¡°Some meditation. When I heard the floor boards rattling, I thought Annalisa had cornered Damen again. But then I realized she hadn¡¯t left the bar since she got back. Glad to see you¡¯re fine.¡±

    I righted my chair and plopped down into it, holding my palm against my forehead. Mithra plucked an errant petal out of my hair, and then surprised me by circling around behind me and beginning to knead my shoulders.

    ¡°Dragons above!¡± I gasped. The devilborn girl had strong, slender fingers that seemed to immediately seek out every painful knot and smooth it. I slumped forward, and her thumbs started to push up the back of my neck along the outside of my spine. It hurt, but more than that, it hurt less than I had before. She wrapped one hand around the front of my throat, and I almost panicked, thinking she was about to choke me, but she put a thumb and forefinger behind my jaw and tilted my skull forward. Her other hand started to pull down across my neck, and I felt my spine start to unwind.

    ¡°Now this, is magic,¡± I said.

    Mithra giggled. ¡°I told you there were other things I could do for you.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know this was a thing that could be done!¡± I said. I groaned as her fingers dug in above my clavicles and worked up the front of my neck.

    ¡°They¡¯re all the rage in the upper city,¡± said Mithra. She leaned down and whispered in my ear. ¡°But they can¡¯t do them like I can.¡± Mithra was touched by the fire plane, and she heated her fingers just to the edge of painful. I¡¯d never felt anything like it, and I told her so.

    ¡°Believe it or not, these techniques originated on the Mausoleum Plains. Old, stuffy necromancers have a lot of tension to work out. So do you, apparently.¡±

    ¡°Those old, stuffy necromancers never tried to keep Barrowdown running,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh, my big strong crime boss,¡± she mocked, slapping my arm with her tail. Then, softly, ¡°I¡¯m just glad I didn¡¯t have to slit such a pretty throat.¡±

    ¡°Me too. How¡¯s Lenise doing, anyway?¡±

    Mithra¡¯s hands froze. ¡°What?¡±

    I looked back at her, confused. She looked down at me with wide eyes, alarm evident. ¡°Should I not be glad at my throat being in one piece? Never mind, forget I said anything.¡±

    ¡°I will¡­¡± she said, carefully. ¡°Besides,¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rude to talk about other women in the company of one?¡± I guessed.

    Annalisa chose that moment to burst into my office and see Mithra with one hand around my throat and the other down the back of my shirt.

    Uh oh.

    She turned a bright shade of purple and looked up at Mithra. I half-thought she¡¯d assume I was under attack and launch herself at us, flattening me yet again, but a burst of¡­ something¡­ passed between them. I could feel vibrations in my mind, like an entire conversation being squeezed into a single breath. Annalisa turned around and dashed out of the room.

    ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, reeling.

    Mithra shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s your partner.¡±

    ¡°No, whatever you two did, just now. I could feel it.¡±

    The plane-touched woman recoiled as if bit.

    I turned. ¡°Is that¡­ something all plane-touched can do?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s something all demons can do,¡± she said, ¡°Deviltongue: Speech across distances. Devilborn inherit the trait. But you¡¯re not a demonologist.¡±

    ¡°Well something changed. I¡ª¡± I looked at the table. The tongue of knaves. Secrets, whispers, and truths. I picked up the card. Could the spell have something to do with divining hidden truths, translating foreign ciphers, or secret messages? If so, the possibilities were endless! I channeled my will into it. ¡°Try it now. Send me something.¡±

    Mithra hesitated, bit her lip, and then grinned. A cavalcade of vivid images flooded my mind. Fates fend, if she could have put them to canvas, she¡¯d have been hailed as the great artist of our age. She¡¯d also have been run out of any decent town, as they involved her, along with several of the boys and girls from the Mop. I didn¡¯t know if it was a memory or a fantasy, but it was immediate and visceral, and I¡¯m sure she took note of its, erm, immediate, effects.

    ¡°Not that something!¡± I hissed, heat rising in my neck.

    ¡°It worked? I can¡¯t believe that worked!,¡± she said, giggling. Then her giggles erupted into full-throated laughs that she tried to cover with the back of her hand. I made to stand, and she dashed out of the room in a very Annalisa-like fashion, cackling and calling out.

    ¡°Miss Trundi! Miss Trundi! Listen to this!¡±

    ¡°Dragons above!¡± I swore, getting up and slamming the door behind her and dropping the bolt. Suddenly very uncomfortable, I threw myself on rat-bed to look for what sleep I might before the fight.

    It was not easy to find.

 Chapter 38 - To Cultivate Image

    Chapter 38 - To Cultivate Image

    When I awoke, there was work to do. The light of the wane dragons filtered in through the windows in the long office. Though I hadn¡¯t slept long, I found myself far more refreshed than I expected. I attributed it to Mithra¡¯s magic fingertips. I pulled on my shirt and gathered my things before heading down the hall and below to the common room.

    I spotted a familiar figure at the bar, and pulled a stool up beside Damen, the elf working boy who had shown an interest in Annalisa. He cast a glare my way and pulled his blanket tighter. His teeth chattered and a mug of hot tea sat before him on the bar.

    It didn¡¯t take a genius to suss out what had happened there. Annalisa had seen Mithra demonstrating skill in something and the devilborn girl was insanely competitive. Second, and most unfortunately for Damen, Annalisa was touched by the plane of frost, not fire. That¡¯s adding two and two if I¡¯ve ever seen it. This unfortunate recipe for frozen, mangled muscles had found its way onto the unfortunate elf in the most dangerous bed in the brothel.

    ¡°I don¡¯t envy you, chum,¡± I said, motioning the barkeep over. ¡°Bring him some stew, too, will ya? The man is suffering.¡±

    Jaco cocked his eyebrows at me. ¡°He¡¯s ¡®ad three bowls afore you even came down.¡±

    ¡°Then bring it to me, instead.¡±

    Jaco shrugged and disappeared into the back. Meanwhile, I watched Damen pick up his tea with shaking fingers and slosh half of it out of the cup before it made it to his lips. Poor devil. His ears twitched, and he suddenly made himself scarce.

    I heard the thump of Annalisa coming down the stairs mere moments later, and the woman looked quite pleased with herself, surely unaware of the carnage she¡¯d wrought. She plopped down next to me on Damen¡¯s vacated stool, beaming with pride. I¡¯m sure she believed in her core that she¡¯d just given the elf the best massage of his life¡ªwhile more likely coming close to ending it, or at least making the elf wish someone would. Well, I¡¯d warned Mithra that he ought stay away.

    A diminutive figure clamored onto the stool on my opposite side. The dwarven pitmaster, Jeedle, slapped the bar top with a ring-laden hand and demanding to be served. ¡°Oi! Is this a pub or a library? Why¡¯s everyone so gods-damned quiet?¡± He turned to me. ¡°Pits, what happened to your face?¡±

    ¡°Business dispute,¡± I said. ¡°Everything ready for tonight?¡±

    ¡°Oh, aye,¡± said Jeedle, taking a stein of foaming lager and spilling what looked like a quarter of it down his beard. How did he even find his mouth in that wild tangle? ¡°The fix is in. Mami¡¯s got her a real light-touch fixer crunching for Altasian. Not a cheap one, neither. Known for getting under the sniffers. Good for them because the pit¡¯s got a sniffer what can¡¯t be bought.¡±

    ¡°Excellent,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    The dwarf looked me up and down. ¡°You going like that?¡± he asked.

    I looked down at my breeches and tunic. They were a bit soiled, but not remarkably so. ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Like a drowned rat. Darcent, if you¡¯re doing what you aim to be doing, Ye¡¯ got to look the part. The kerchief is snaz and all, but if you ain¡¯t got the muscle then you need the style.¡±

    I slapped Annalisa¡¯s arm with the back of my hand. ¡°She¡¯s got the muscle,¡± I said. She flexed her toned arms in response, hard muscles punctuating my point. Annalisa wasn¡¯t bulky, but she did look almost carved from stone and ice when she showed off. ¡°Besides, my style is not being noticed. And I can¡¯t afford new clothes.¡±

    ¡°Lad, you forget, I know Anna too well for that. I seen her tied in more knots than a sailor¡¯s rope. And maybe that worked for an illegal seeker. But people gotta know who you are to know not to cross you. Or, to come to you. Fetch yon robe.¡±

    I grumbled, but the dwarf had a point. Kridick, horrible gorgon that he was, had been a fixture of Barrowdown. People had come to him with all sorts of problems, and he¡¯d fixed them in his own unique way. Which, for him, generally meant cracking the skulls of both parties. And, if the rumors were true, once eating one of the offenders. He was an orc, after all.

    I made my way back up to the office and grabbed the robe. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, I grabbed the cravat as well. Despite not knowing what it did, I still got the distinct feeling that it was extremely important. I tied it around my neck, and of course I could use it as a mask in a pinch. I replaced the books and deck in the hollow in the wall before heading back down.

    ¡°There ¡®e is,¡± said Jeedle. His broad white grin split his wiry beard. ¡°That¡¯s a man what looks like he could keep his grip on a bit o¡¯ power.¡±

    ¡°One night at a time,¡±. I said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Rather than leaving with Jeedle, Annalisa and I took a different route. She wasn¡¯t the one fighting, tonight. As much as she wished she could be, the headliner tonight was a rising star that had captured the attention of the middle city, and even some of the eyes of some of the noble hobbyists. Bigger eyes meant bigger stages, and instead of a dusty old pit or a cleared bar room floor, Storm-Laden¡¯s presence demanded a proper arena with enough space to pack hundreds of well-to-do within blood-spitting range, and some thousands more in cheap stands that were at least as dangerous to their occupants as either of the fighters were to each other.

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    Finding the arena was no problem. Once we left the downs and got into the middle city proper, we simply followed the cheers. Bigger events like tonight didn¡¯t have just one fight. Several circuits ran to warm the audience up, starting with well-placed amateurs and up-and-comers. Each wave of shouts represented a blow struck or a body being thrown to the ash. It wasn¡¯t exactly Guifoyle Arena, but the glass windows still shook with the excitement.

    Unlike the raw and ravaged pits in the downs, bigger events like this drew the heads of guilds. Making an appearance might seem somewhat compulsory, but a surprising amount of business happens ring-side, away from the prying eyes of guild monitors and city advocates. Events of sport are convenient excuses for powerful people to appear together. While rumors might fly, anything could be reasonably denied with the excuse of accidental proximity.

    However, that meant the Seeker¡¯s Guild might have representation, as well. I had to be careful about that. Someone skulking about in seeker robes, flitting from shadow to shadow, might garner unwanted attention. So, I went boldly. I took a page out of Annalisa¡¯s tome and walked with my back straight and my head high. So what if my robes looked a little oft-mended? People noticed and cleared the path for the two of us. I could get used to it.

    Of course, as soon as we approached the box office, we diverted, and started skulking from shadow to shadow until we reached an old servant''s door, whereby a judicious cheer gave us cover to snap a chain holding shut a derelict entrance. We quickly ducked inside.

    If I¡¯d thought the shouting was loud without, it was nothing compared to the rafter-rattling cacophony within. Of course, our rafters were the undersides of the cheap seats above¡ªa fact that was not lost on me, concerning the aforementioned typical construction quality offered by the dwarven contractors who raised the place with the cheapest wood known to man, elf, or orc. Hell, even the support struts were studded with the jutting points of iron nails, and I had to be careful where to put my hands as we maneuvered through discarded bundles of rigging, sacks of sawdust and enough ash in the air to choke a basilisk.

    ¡°No sign of the sharks,¡± said Annalisa. I hummed agreement. I¡¯d expected at least one or two sentries down here ahead of us but the Mayazians were laying low. Their fighter up above would even now be getting ready and warming up for his bout. They¡¯d produced a deep sea lamia for Annalisa. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what sort of monstrosity they¡¯d dredged from the harbor to face a monster like Storm-Laden. Well, we¡¯d see soon enough.

    I pulled my cards and did a reading, needing to know if we were under the right part of the arena. The results came quickly, almost automatic. I marveled at how much easier a true reading responded now that I¡¯d bonded with a few additional cards. ¡°This way,¡± I said.

    Though I had a general idea what I was looking for, it took a quick look through the dragon¡¯s gaze to spot the cheater line hanging down from the trap-door. I had to jump to reach it, and when it pulled down, the ladder stayed retracted.

    ¡°Hells,¡± I said, looking up at the hole. ¡°Anna, give me a lift, will you?¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I go first?¡± she asked.

    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re not exactly the stealthy type.¡±

    She wrinkled her nose and cupped her hands above her knee. I stepped into them and she lifted me (startlingly easily, I might add) high enough to grab the lip of the opening. My feet dangled for a moment as I struggled to pull myself up. I managed to get my chin above, as well as one elbow. But I was out of leverage and my muscles had already started to flag. I had thought myself decently athletic, but walking and running don¡¯t seem to translate to hauling my carcass up through a hole in the ceiling.

    I gasped and fumbled with my free hand to get to my deck. I called on a quick burst of energy from the three of dragons, feeling the strength and stamina flood my body just long enough for me to pull myself up. The effort left me even more drained, and I lay on my back for a moment, panting and choking on the ash in the air. Luckily, there were no sharks in view.

    The dim superstructure of the arena offered little enough light. But the mechanism for the ladder was simple, if rusted, and I forced it with a wrenching of metal only partly covered by the roar of the crowd. The ladder slid down low enough for Annalisa to jump and grab it. Her weight overcame what resistance remained.

    I don¡¯t know if it was a draft or subtle change in the air that alerted me, but I sensed a presence at my back and threw myself down just in time to avoid the thrust of the knife aimed for my ear. I rolled over and stared up at the sharp teeth of a Mayazian enforcer. Cursing at my lucky dodge, he reversed the grip on his knife and stabbed it down at me. I kicked his knee before he could, and then my own knife was out.

    There¡¯s a bit of misunderstanding concerning the nature of knife fights. Theater is partly to blame, with dramatic sequences of thrusts and parries offering participants ample time to exchange barbed witticisms. But knives aren¡¯t rapiers. You don¡¯t parry with them, you dive in and stick the other guy clean to the hilt and hope he dies before he can return the favor.

    In this case the Mayan had the courtesy to sprawl out on a way that brought his throat in slashing range. The fingers of my off-hand found the two of knaves, and my oil-slick blade parted the meat of his throat with no resistance, like filleting the morning catch. His own knife dropped between my upper arm and rib cage. A few inches to the side and I¡¯d have one less lung to boast of.

    Annalisa popped her head up through the trap door and looked at me underneath the dead gangster.. ¡°Stealthy, huh?¡±

    ¡°Just get up here!¡±

    While Annalisa climbed up the ladder, I rolled the Mayazian thug off me and searched him. He had a few clips and a pair of cunnings, which wasn¡¯t much to speak of. No magic items, but his dagger was finer quality than my old knife¡ªif slightly chipped where he¡¯d buried it in the wood. The blade had a sharkskin pattern acid-etched along its length. I took it for myself. I nearly gagged while searching him. Certainly, whoever would have to clean this up was not an enviable person.

    A triple ring of the brass drum above signaled the end of the fight, and the crowd went wild, jumping up and down on the stands above us.

    ¡°This must be what it¡¯s like for monsters under Dragonmaw¡± said Annalisa, looking up.

    ¡°Explains why they hate us so much,¡± I said.

 Chapter 39 - Not Exactly Stealthy

    <div>

    Chapter 39 - Not Exactly Stealthy

    Where there¡¯s one sentry, there¡¯s more. And as we made our way to the outboard of the stage, we encountered another pair. These ones had swords and crossbows. A quick reading told me they were the only ones we had to worry about. I was about to distract them by flicking the three of knaves past, but Annalisa tugged my sleeve. I ducked back behind cover.

    ¡°Give me the dragon juice!¡±

    I winced. ¡°It¡¯s the three of dragons, Annalisa¡±

    ¡°Whatever.¡±

    Sighing, I called the three of dragons into my hand and began to siphon my stamina and focus into Annalisa. She put her hands out in front of her, concentrating, and split the air with a portal.

    Before I could ask what she was doing, she thrust her hand through it, and wrenched it back, along with the very-surprised face of one of the sentries.¡±

    ¡°Sneak attack!¡± she shouted. I watched, wide-eyed and slack jawed as she belted him across the jaw and let his unconscious body slump back. I heard the thrum of a crossbow discharging and the slap of a bolt into wood.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that worked!¡± she said. ¡°See? I can be stealthy!¡±

    I didn¡¯t have time to retort as the other Mayazian bellowed in rage and called out. ¡°Where are you?¡± he demanded. I winced. Like I said, not exactly stealthy. I cut off the dragon siphon before Annalisa could open a rift for him to shoot us through. Annalisa tried to advance, but I pulled her down. ¡°He¡¯s got a crossbow!¡± I said.

    ¡°Well he can¡¯t shoot both of us!¡± she hissed. ¡°Just shield me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it will stop a bolt,¡± I said, ¡°and I don¡¯t want either of us getting shot!¡±

    ¡°Well what¡¯s your idea?¡±

    Instead, I pulled out the three of knaves and the two of Towers. I stacked them together, charged them with my will, and flicked them around the corner. The reinforced shadow clone popped out of the card, and I was rewarded with the sound of the second sentry¡¯s crossbow discharging.

    ¡°Now!¡± I said, rounding the corner with Annalisa close behind. The Mayaz had started to reload, but dropped his crossbow when he saw us, and pulled out his pair of swords. I hesitated for a moment when I saw the adventurer¡¯s guild badge on his lapel¡ªalong with his broad, hulking form. A shark adventurer? Not what I expected. In the gloom, both his skin and his badge had a dull-grey sheen. He was at least true-iron, rank 4, in which case we were in for a hell of a fight, or it was soft steel, rank 5, in which case we were both dead. Either way we were committed.

    I fanned the cards out around me, calling back the ones I¡¯d used to draw his shot. The bolt clattered to the ground from where it had lodged half-way through the clone¡¯s head. I was right, the stone skin wouldn¡¯t have been enough. Annalisa went right while I circled to the left. The Mayaz adventurer grinned a mouth full of sharp teeth and pressed in.

    ¡°Well well, bounties just be falling in my lap today,¡± he said, cracking his neck and flexing his wide shoulders.

    One of his swords took on the green sheen of an enchantment, and I barely called out to Annalisa in time.

    ¡°Anna, down!¡±

    We both hit the deck as a green splash arced over our heads. Where it hit, it sizzled and started to eat away. The damn sword had an acid spell woven in!

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    He didn¡¯t waste the opening. The shark darted forward and put a boot into Annalisa¡¯s midsection that lifted her entirely off the ground and sent her cartwheeling. I coated my knife with the two of knaves and jammed it into his back, but the enchantment melted away when his jacket split to reveal a shirt of scales underneath. The tip of the Mayazian knife scratched across the armor, and the adventurer grunted. I retreated, narrowly avoiding his counter slash. His eyes tracked the stolen knife and narrowed.

    Uh-oh.

    He roared, and the green sword flashed again. This time the swing came on a diagonal arc, from his right calf to his left shoulder, and the acid caught the edge of my robes and the toe of my boot as I threw myself out of its path. Some of it splashed on the gantry above, and one of the support columns. He and I both froze, looking at the acid eating into the column. If it collapsed, it would spill a ton of wood, nails, and spectators onto all three of us.

    ¡°Right,¡± he said, ¡°No more of that!¡±

    ¡°You think?¡± I asked. The acrid stench of the acid burned at my throat and eyes. I held a sleeve over my mouth and drew the three of knaves. I flicked the card to the side, where a shadowy version of myself sprouted from it.

    The Mayaz adventurer advanced on me. ¡°Ain¡¯t fallin¡¯ for that twice,¡± the shark growled, just as Annalisa burst through the shadow and hit him with a right cross. His vicious kick would have broken half the ribs of an average person, but Annalisa was strengthened by stone, and she was also one of the toughest fighters I¡¯ve met when it came to fighting through pain.

    The adventurer reeled. She followed with a slip to the right, sinking her left hand into his gut, then another right, a hook this time, in as much time as it takes to blink. He managed to get his arm up to block the last blow before it put him to sleep and slashed his sword at her. She called a portal of obsidian to intercept it, but the sudden switch to defense threw off her rhythm and all of a sudden, she was on the back foot. It really wasn¡¯t fair that such a big guy could move so fast.

    I moved in, swinging my cards out like a whip and infusing the whole deck with the two of knaves. But even while pressing the attack against Annalisa, the shark was able to flick his other sword at my attack and send cards flying in every direction. I called them back, thinking furiously. We were hopelessly outmatched, even with the swordsman handicapped by threat of being crushed. It was only a matter of time before the Mayazian skewered both of us.

    Annalisa had reinforced her forearms with a layer of obsidian drawn from the plane, but the brittle defense chipped off with each strike, leaving more of her flesh exposed. I had a crazy idea, but it relied on Annalisa, and she needed space in order to execute it. I launched myself again, angling my dagger for his unprotected neck this time, but he must have heard me coming, because he shifted his weight back, and his elbow slammed me in the gut. I tumbled back, gasping, cards flying in all directions. He¡¯d nailed me right in the solar plexus, and I couldn¡¯t speak¡ªcouldn¡¯t breath.

    Luckily, I didn¡¯t need to speak to communicate with Annalisa, now. I just hope this works, I thought. I called two cards to my hands: the three of dragons and the four of knaves. I activated the four first, willing a series of mental images to Annalisa. Then, I sent what strength I could still muster into the three of dragons.

    For a moment, I feared it didn¡¯t work. But Annalisa thrust both her hands out, and a tear opened underneath the charging shark¡¯s feet. He hit the portal and fell through. His shocked face looked up, and he lost his grip on one of the swords as he slipped completely through. Unfortunately, the non-magical one. Never lucky.

    Annalisa staggered, reeling from the effort of passing a person entirely through a tunnel. She looked as exhausted as I felt. But she ran over and hauled me to my feet. ¡°Darcent, I did a person! I tunneled a whole person!¡± she shrieked. Then stopped, as though something had just occurred to her. ¡°Since when can you use deviltongue?¡±

    I just gasped and gagged in reply and pointed toward the ladder the sentries had been guarding. We didn¡¯t have much time.

    The Mayaz adventurer wasn¡¯t dead¡ªfar from it. In fact, he likely wasn¡¯t even hurt. It took a great deal of effort and will to send something as powerful as a soul through a portal¡ªeven if, as I suspected in the Mayazian¡¯s cases, the soul had been corrupted in some way. Annalisa couldn¡¯t tunnel far in the best of times, despite the practice she¡¯d been freezing the Mop n¡¯ Bucket with. But I¡¯d thought long and hard on how best to apply her talents, and the thing about floors is that they¡¯re rarely more than a hand¡¯s span thick. The Mayazian sentry had been tunneled about three inches straight down.

    Originally, I¡¯d planned to use that trick on a wall to get into someplace to steal or spy. But this worked too. But saving our lives seemed a prudent application. We couldn¡¯t take the swordsman in a fair fight, so I¡¯d had Annalisa remove him from it. Unfortunately, it wouldn¡¯t take him long to find the trapdoor we¡¯d come up through, along with the corpse of the sentry whose knife I¡¯d stolen. We had to move.

    ¡°There¡± I rasped, pointing at the ladder up. I collected my cards and soldiered on.

 Chapter 40 - To Be The Greatest

    Chapter 40 ¨C To Be the Greatest

    We climbed up to the level of the stands, and then toward the catwalk gantry above them. Anna paused, looking out over the arena.

    ¡°Why did you stop?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re calling his name¡­¡± she said.

    I looked down. Our own battle had taken us into the second round of Storm-Laden''s fight with his opponent¡ªnot a deep-sea terror like I¡¯d expected, but a broad, muscular elf with a war wedge and two short spears. Storm-Laden had a handful of cuts across his arms and legs, but nothing deep. The crowds chanted as the pair circled each other.

    STORM! STORM! STORM!

    ¡°They¡¯ve never chanted my name¡­¡± said Annalisa, awed.

    ¡°They will,¡± I promised. Surprisingly, I meant it. The precipice arcana burned between her horns.

    As we watched, the elf leapt in. Clearly skilled, he feinted left, and thrusted with his right-spear. Fast, too fast, and magically enhanced as my four of dragons confirmed. Yet, Storm was faster. He twisted away from the thrust, seizing the haft of the spear and yanking the elf off balance. He grabbed the elf¡¯s wrist and flipped him over his own shoulder.

    The elf tumbled through the air, curled into a ball, and somehow came out of it right onto his feet, grinning.

    The crowd roared. The pair weren¡¯t just fighting. They were putting on a show. But without a fixer, Storm would get slowly ground down.

    ¡°Anna, let¡¯s get moving,¡± I said.

    With one more look at the bout, Anna scurried up the gantry and helped me up to the platform. I barely got to my feet before the venue security spotted us and headed over, weapons drawn.

    ¡°What are you doing up here?¡± one of them demanded.

    Anna dropped into a fighting stance, but I stepped in front of her and held up my hands.

    ¡°I have valuable information for the sniffer,¡± I said. ¡°Proof that the elf is using a fixer. The sniffer will want to know.¡±

    The two looked at each other. It was weak, and I was trying to figure out how we were going to get past them when they abruptly lowered their weapons. I blinked.

    ¡°Come with us, seeker.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t believe that worked. I followed the pair, whispering back to Annalisa. ¡°Stay here, make sure that shark doesn¡¯t get up the ladder.¡±

    She nodded, waiting and pacing the narrow landing. The venue security pair led me up the catwalk to a box that overlooked the arena, and I stepped down into it¡ªrealizing instantly why they had let me through so easily and the enormity of my mistake.

    The sniffer was a seeker. She leaned over the edge of the box, cards fanned out as she performed readings over the fight. Her robes were in pristine condition, and her red hair spilled out down her back. I knew her.

    One of the security cleared his throat. ¡°Seeker, you¡¯ll want to hear this.¡±

    She stacked her cards and turned around, freezing when she saw me in my tattered, ash-filthy robes. ¡°Darcent?¡± she asked, eyebrows climbing in surprise.

    ¡°Hello, Drella,¡± I said.

    She had been one of my upper classmates, a seer and a Soul Seeker. A bit of a teacher¡¯s pet, and honest to a fault. She¡¯d been kind to me when I first arrived at the guild academy, but quickly learned I wasn¡¯t the type she ought be associated with. She was the youngest daughter of a wealthy trade family from the upper city. No wonder they¡¯d said this sniffer was immune to bribes. The mountain arcana burned above her brow. Fortitude, strength, immovable.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you since¡­ what are you even doing here?¡± she asked. She put her hands on her hips. ¡°And why do you still have those robes? You know you shouldn¡¯t be wearing them.¡±

    I barked a nervous laugh. ¡°I didn¡¯t have anything else to wear when I left. Look, I¡¯m taking a huge risk coming up here to show you the cheating. Will you at least listen?¡±

    She pursed her lips and glanced back down at the fight. ¡°If this is about cheating, I haven¡¯t detected any sign of it in this barbaric demonstration. And your word isn¡¯t good for much, here or anywhere.

    ¡°Ok, first of all, ouch,¡± I said. ¡°Second of all, you might not be able to sense it, but I can.¡±

    Drella scoffed. ¡°Please, you couldn¡¯t even do proper reading without half your deck blowing up in your face. That¡¯s why they kicked you out, remember?¡±

    I held my hand out and summoned the wills. They fanned out, circling me, then shuffled and stacked themselves neatly in the palm of my hand. Drella rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Yeah, I can do that too, Darcent. So what?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to show you parlor tricks, Drella.¡± I pulled the top two cards off the deck. This wasn¡¯t a reading, but it had already anticipated my needs. The three and four of dragons. I grimaced. I¡¯d just gotten my ass kicked, but if I wanted Drella to see what I could see, I had just a little bit more hell headed my way.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I split my will three ways. I sent it into the three of dragons and began to siphon what little reserves I had left into Drella. She stiffened. She knew what I had done, knew what it cost me. Before she could say anything, I sent my will into the four of dragons, and pulled the dragon¡¯s greed back along the siphon. Now, she could see.

    Her eyes glazed over with an amber sheen. Now, she was seeing everything. The dragon¡¯s greed would shine a limelight on things hidden or concealed. The siphon would let her pay attention to everything at once.

    ¡°Hurry,¡± I said through grit teeth. ¡°I can¡¯t hold this for long!¡±

    She looked at her own hands, and then out over the crowds, scanning.

    ¡°Dragons above! So many pickpockets!¡±

    ¡°Drella!¡±

    ¡°Ok, ok¡­ Fates, you¡¯re right! I can see them!¡± she waved her retainers over. ¡°There, those two¡ªtwins, I think. The one in red and the one in brown with the white cap. They¡¯re working together. One is casting on the elf, and the other is shrouding them both with a protection from divination spell.¡±

    The venue guards followed her gaze until they spotted the pair, and then headed out of the box. Dressa turned to me. ¡°That¡¯s why the Wills couldn¡¯t sense it!¡±

    ¡°Wonderful,¡± I said, releasing the cards along with a breath. I doubled over, hands on my knees, panting and gulping down air. Dressa stepped closer, and I straightened, ready (so not ready) for a fight.

    ¡°Peace, Darcent!¡± she said, hands up and will calm. ¡°That card combination, I doubt there¡¯s more than a handful of people at the academy¡ªother than the professors, of course¡ªwho could manage something like that. You have to come back!¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°Leaving really opened my eyes to the Wills in a way that lecture halls never could have. I¡¯m not suited to a classroom, Drella. My real education started the day I left,¡± I said. At a shout from the crowd, my stomach dropped. I looked down. Storm-laden was on the back foot as the elf pushed forward, closing in on the half-orc. The ash under their feet had become mud from the blood flowing off Storm.

    I cursed. ¡°He¡¯s not going to last much longer. Dressa, I need to stop those mages now.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t let you interfere with the fight,¡± she said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the fight I¡¯m interfering with,¡± I pointed out. ¡°They¡¯re the ones interfering. We¡¯re just making it fair again.

    She pursed her lips. ¡°And I¡¯m sure your reasons are perfectly altruistic. Completely impartial. Darcent, it¡¯s clear you have a vested interest in the orc winning.¡± But her sense of fairness won out. She sighed and gestured to the two mages.

    I grinned and drew the two of storms.

    Dressa looked at the card, eyes wide. ¡°Your third suit?¡±

    ¡°My fourth,¡± I said, drawing on the last of my reserves to activate the counter-spell card.

    ¡°Your fourth?!¡± she hissed as I flicked the card out of the sniffer box. It spun in a wide arc, and when it passed by the pair of mages, they both flinched as if struck. I called the card back and it got to me just in time for the spells to backfire and blow up in the twins¡¯ faces. It knocked them flat, and in the ring, the broad elf staggered.

    Storm was ready. Even if he hadn¡¯t known something was coming, the man was an expert fighter, trained by Kridick, that could have trounced Annalisa and I together with the same ease as that swordsman¡ªand done so empty-handed. While his opponent was no slouch, the elf had been relying on magical aid to pull an upset victory.

    Storm slipped inside, narrowly avoiding a desperate thrust to his face. He feinted a punch, then slipped again to avoid the counter. The elf overcommitted, and suddenly Storm was off his left side. The orc wrapped his thick arms around the elf¡¯s midsection and heaved them both to the side with his powerful legs and back. It was the same thing I¡¯d seen Annalisa do to the adventurer in the Mop, but elevated to a work of art.

    The elf slammed into the ground, and I heard the SNAP of the spear breaking, even over the roar of the crowd.

    STORM! STORM! STORM!

    The orc rolled onto his knees. The elf was recovering too, but he¡¯d been stunned. Storm grabbed the front third of the snapped spear from the ash, and rammed it through the elf¡¯s belly, lifting him off the ground with the force of it. Blood sprayed into the air.

    The crowd went wild, but Dressa looked away, pale. She wasn¡¯t used to the brutality of bloodsport. Her eyes fixed on me and slid up and down. For a moment, I thought she was checking me out, but quickly felt my cheeks heat as I realized it was the filthy robes she examined.

    ¡°Oh, fates portend, you¡¯re him, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Him?¡± I asked, genuinely confused.

    ¡°The Barrow Knave!¡± she said. ¡°The criminal running around pretending¡ªnot pretending, I suppose, to be a Soul Seeker! I¡¯ll have to report this, you know.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± I said. ¡°I just saved your reputation as a sniffer!¡±

    The mountain still burned above her brow. ¡°Notwithstanding. The guild isn¡¯t going to want you running around in their property. Especially if you¡¯re somehow involved in¡­¡± she waved her hands over the arena. ¡°¡­whatever this was. If you knew what was best, you¡¯d turn yourself in and apologize.¡±

    I grimaced. ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± I said. ¡°In fact,¡± I continued as I spied Annalisa frantically waving to me, ¡°I need to get out of here. Like, right now. Take care of yourself, Dressa!¡±

    I pushed past her attempts to grab at my robe.

    ¡°Darcent!¡± she hissed. ¡°Get back here!¡± she looked around for security to detain me, but she¡¯d already sent them after the Mayaz fixer twins. She could summon the wills, but her suits were streams, petals, ways, and towers. Not exactly conducive to combat. Annalisa waited for me on the catwalk.

    ¡°I take it our friend is on his way?¡±

    She looked back toward the ladder, biting her lip. ¡°Not just him.¡±

    ¡°Shit. Alright then, I suppose it¡¯s time we made ourselves scarce, eh?¡± I said.

    ¡°We could fight our way out,¡± she offered, hopeful. I knew running rankled her. Despite the frankly insane odds stacked against us, what she coveted most was the opportunity to overcome them. I barely had the strength to stand on my own two feet. I was going to sleep for a week after this.

    ¡°Another time,¡± I said, pulling her in the opposite direction.

    We pounded down the gantry on the opposite side. Luckily, the ladders here went down adjacent to the stands. We were able to make the jump to the nosebleed section without it collapsing under us, though it bucked and heaved with the stampede of fans rushing the pit.

    The crowd was easy enough to disappear into. It was more of a flood of bodies, really. Annalisa and I let ourselves be swept along with the tide, until it carried us close enough that we could slip out a side door and into the light of the pale dragons.

    We headed south, back to Barrowdown. Annalisa was alive and full of energy (and where she stored it all, I haven¡¯t the foggiest notion). She recounted the fights we¡¯d had, blow by blow. Her own contributions may have been somewhat embellished, but I let her have her fun.

    The night had been a success¡ªexcept for one significant failing.

    The Soul Seekers Guild had already been aware of rumors there was some imposter with a set of robes running around the downs pretending to be a seeker. The Barrow Knave, they called me; which I had to admit, had a nice ring to it. The knaves in my deck, ever vain, echoed their agreement.

    But now, they would know it wasn¡¯t just a rumor. More, they would know who it really was. And an expelled former member was a very different thing than an unsubstantiated rumor. It was a problem to be crushed. I would have to confront that, and probably sooner than I¡¯d like.

    One more enemy. One more hound to keep outside the walls. They wouldn¡¯t find me unprepared. The towers in my deck resonated with that intent. Something within them was close to bonding. I could feel it.

    End of Arc III

 Chapter 41 - Interlude III

    Chapter 41 - Interlude III

    Mithra pulled the hood tighter around her face, careful to avoid the lamplight that might reveal her rather recognizable red features. With Darcent and Annalisa finally out of the pub, and with no engagements of her own, Mithra took the opportunity to slip away to the middle city.

    Even a mile or more west of the middle city arena, the shouts for the fighters carried over the night air. She turned away and ducked under a sagging beam. On the corner of a block of tenements, she chose the basement of the third building and knocked twice, paused, and then twice more.

    The door slid open, and Lenise looked beyond Mithra, no doubt making sure she wasn¡¯t followed. Mithra ducked inside, pulling back her hood and shaking out her hair. She looked about the small basement rooms, lips pursed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look,¡± said Lenise. ¡°It¡¯s discrete.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ugly.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s safe.¡±

    Mithra conceded the point and moved over to the hearth to put the kettle on the coals. She raked her fingers through the embers to stoke them, and then wrapped her hands around the kettle and added her own heat. ¡°It¡¯s well, then?¡±

    ¡°Well enough.¡± Despite the relative warmth of the evening, Lenise wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. ¡°The wards have discouraged unwanted visitors. I don¡¯t think he can find me. but it doesn¡¯t stop me from constantly looking over my shoulder.¡±

    ¡°Which will just make him try harder,¡± Mithra pointed out. ¡°He¡¯s not easily deterred. He sent a demon after you, girl.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± said Lenise. ¡°I heard its voice, too. Gods, it¡¯s bad enough with just him. But now he¡¯s got that Soul Seeker kid in his pocket.¡±

    Mithra leaned against the hearth, saying nothing.

    ¡°Unless¡­ do you trust him?¡± asked Lenise.

    ¡°Who, Darcent?¡±

    Lenise nodded.

    Mithra shook her head. ¡°No. I¡¯m not sure about him, yet. He may not be completely rotten like Kridick, but that schoolboy is too ambitious by half. He wants power. And until he¡¯s got it, he¡¯s too easy for Daggertongue to push around.¡±

    ¡°Well, I did some digging of my own, after what Mother Mayaz said.¡±

    Mithra narrowed her eyes. ¡°Digging where?¡± she pulled the steaming kettle off and poured two cups.

    Lenise shrugged, half-smile on her face. ¡°The Royal Arcanists Historical Library.¡±

    ¡°Lenise...¡±

    ¡°Their wards are outdated and easy to slip past.¡± she cleared her throat. ¡°Anyway, I think there may be some truth to what she said. I doubt Darcent knows the full extent of his role.¡±

    Mithra pursed her lips. ¡°The real question is, does Daggertongue know?¡±

    ¡°If not, it won¡¯t be long before he figures it out.¡± Lenise wrapped her arms around herself. ¡°For all his faults, foolishness isn¡¯t among them. He figured out I was hiding under his nose at the Mop. Kridick as much as told me. He took my own hiding place and turned it into just another prison. In a way, I owe Mother Mayaz a favor. But who told her where to find me?¡±

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°You think someone sent Mayaz after you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m certain of it,¡± said Lenise. ¡°Bethane still has friends who know what she knew. The Ways Witch, for one. You can¡¯t hide from a determined Soul Seeker.¡±

    ¡°Not unless you¡¯ve got your own. Maybe we should consider bringing Darcent in.¡±

    ¡°Not yet,¡± said Lenise. ¡°Not until you¡¯re certain about him. Give me a couple weeks.¡±

    Mithra finished her tea as they chatted about less consequential things. But the conversation was half-hearted at best, and the devilborn soon rose and swung her cloak about her shoulders. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t stay so long. It¡¯s just, I hate to see you alone like this. It¡¯s like a prison?¡±

    ¡°This?¡± asked Lenise, spreading her arms. ¡°I was a prisoner in my own home for 16 years, Mithra. I was born a prisoner. Born to serve someone else¡¯s design, and my mother died for it. I¡¯ll never forgive Daggertongue for killing her. This? This is freedom. And I¡¯ll die before I let them take that from me again.¡±

    A quick embrace, and the two separated. Mithra let herself out and headed back toward the lower city before someone could notice her absence. The fights had already concluded, and the streets were packed with revelers and drunks all too willing to reenact the events of the fight against slights both real and imagined. She blended with the crowd, melting into its flow.

    Still, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that eyes were on her the whole way.

    ***

    From the Desk of Master Alar Hedwin

    Lord Mirandalis Guifoyle

    I hope this letter finds you in good health. I wished to thank you once more for your generous continued contributions and consideration to the Soul Seeker academy. Your son, Tanlith, continues to excel. Mastering two suits in only 8 years is quite a prodigious pace for a young elf studying the Wills. The disciplinary matter you inquired about in your last letter has already been resolved. I regret that young master Darcent and your son could not resolve their differences amicably, but this was not the reason for his departure. The boy has parted ways with the Guild due on sole grounds to the deficiencies in his abilities and discipline, and I have not seen or heard from him since.

    I regret to inform you that I seem to have misplaced the quite unconventional manual that you sent alongside this semester¡¯s tuition. I will, of course, provide a suitable replacement copy as soon as I locate one. If you would prefer I acquire a different volume in its stead, please send along the title with your next letter.

    Your friend,

    Alar Hedwin SSG M

    * * *

    Annalisa ducked, imagining the training dummy opposite her had just led with an overhand right. She planted her right foot and struck out, coming out of her crouch with a powerful counter that cracked the wooden head of the dummy. Without stopping to survey the damage, she followed it up by spinning, striking with the heel of her foot just beneath the ribs.

    ¡°Good!¡± shouted Jeedle. He tapped a wooden pole against the ground. ¡°At me, now. Keep your hands up! Move your head!¡±

    Annalisa touched her knuckles to the bases of her horns as Jeedle came at her. He alternated swings and prods with the rod, rapping her ribs or her face where her guard was weak. The dwarf wasn¡¯t gentle, but Annalisa relished the challenge¡ªrelished proving her strength and toughness. Through footwork and careful timing, she slipped and dipped beneath most of the blows without even having to block them. She breathed with each step. In, out, sharp, with her stomach tight. Those she did block stung against her arms and elbows, the hard wood cracking off flesh and bone.

    ¡°This how it¡¯s gonna be?¡± she asked.

    So intent was she, watching the movements of the rod, that Jeedle¡¯s fist came out of nowhere, smashing into her face and sending her spiraling to the ash.

    The other fighters stopped and watched.

    Anna groaned, pushing herself to her sit bones. The ash where she¡¯d fallen was damp with sweat and blood, and she touched a bloody spot on her cheek.

    The dwarf leaned down, fingering the bloodied ring on his hand.

    ¡°That¡¯s how it¡¯s going to be, Annalisa. You¡¯ve come a way, girl. But this fighter you¡¯re going up against?¡± Jeedle clenched his thick, meaty fists. ¡°Knuckles like barnacles. Fists like mallets. Jaw like a slab of onyx. He¡¯s twice your weight and has eight wins under his belt. The punches aren¡¯t going to come one-by-one.

    It¡¯s just you and him in that pit, and he¡¯s never had to be carried out of it.¡±

    Annalisa pushed herself to her feet, slipping back into her stance. Left foot slightly forward, knuckles to her temples just below her horns. ¡°He will.¡±

 Chapter 42- What They Donâ€™t Teach in School

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

 Chapter 43 - A Problematic Solution

    Chapter 43 - A Problematic Solution.

    ¡°It¡¯s simple,¡± said Annalisa over the sloshing of water. She¡¯d followed my example in having a bath, and, of course, she¡¯d had them drag her tub over next to mine out behind the Mop. How else was she going to tell me all about her plan? I had sank down to my nose in the steaming, soapy water. She periodically had to break up the ice starting to form on the surface of hers.

    Of course all the staff from the Mop had come running when they heard Annalisa was taking a bath with me, only to be supremely disappointed at the reality of the situation. And, of course, several had stayed to ogle her fighter¡¯s figure. Not me, mind. I wanted to honor her modesty, though it should have occurred to me that the devilborn woman didn¡¯t have a modest bone in her short blue body. She¡¯d grown up with seven brothers and spent her days wrestling people twice her size into submission. And having watched some of Jeedles pit fighters go at it, I can safely tell you some of those grappling positions ought to have been in Madam Twopeak''s gallery of fiendish delights back in the upper city.

    I was just glad Mithra wasn¡¯t around. I doubt I¡¯d have survived the chiding. My cheeks reddened just thinking about some of the comments she¡¯d probably make. But I wasn¡¯t going to let that ruin what was otherwise an excellent bath that I desperately needed.

    Annalisa scrubbed her back with a rough sponge held aloft by her tail, which was a handy trick, at that. I was so stiff from three days in rat-bed that I could barely bend half my joints. But they were starting to unwind in the scalding water. And the bark tea was starting to unwind the thumping in my head.

    ¡°Annalisa, you haven¡¯t even told me which problem you¡¯re talking about. Is it the Seeker¡¯s Guild knowing we¡¯re here? The elite shark swordsmen with the grudge and the taste for our blood? The shadowy nobleman holding thinly veiled threats over our heads?¡±

    ¡°The lack of magic items, of course,¡±

    ¡°Ah, that problem. I¡¯d forgotten all about it,¡± I said.

    Anna nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you¡¯ve got a bodyguard with a good memory, then.¡±

    I¡¯m fairly sure her stint as my bodyguard was weeks over what she¡¯d promised and had gone out the window when Kridick fled the downs, anyway. But I knew better than to argue the point to Annalisa. From her point of view, I handled the finances, the magery, planning, the businesses, and the organization. She cracked whatever heads were needed and trained to be a better fighter.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    But she was also right about still needing more magic items. The fight in the middle city arena had been a boon for our coin reserves, but that was all earmarked for our fledgling organization. None of it could be spared for prohibitively expensive magic items. ¡°So, what¡¯s your plan?¡±

    She dropped the sponge and pointed the spade of her tail down at the sopping ground of the Mop¡¯s back lot. The sponge hit her reduced water level with a splash. Annalisa apparently attacked bathing with the same fervor as everything else, in that she seemed to have a personal vendetta against dirt and grime. I¡¯m pretty sure her wooden tub was down to half its original volume of soap and water.

    I looked over the rim of my tub. ¡°The¡­ floor?¡±

    ¡°The undercity!¡± she exclaimed.¡±

    My thoughts immediately went back to looking through the drain in Mother Mayaz¡¯ basement and seeing the fist-sized eye of the stray demon. I shuddered, despite the heat of the bath. ¡°Annalisa, just because we¡¯ve got guild badges, it doesn¡¯t make us adventurers. I shouldn¡¯t have to explain how absolutely bad that idea is.¡±

    ¡°Why so?¡± she asked earnestly. ¡°There¡¯s tons of magic items down there.¡±

    ¡°There are tons of magic items down there. Most of them were carried down there by adventurers and are now in the stomachs of various monsters. It¡¯s incredibly dangerous.¡±

    If anything, it¡¯s incredibly dangerous, is the phrase that would most spur on my capricious partner, and I ought to have known that.

    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous up here,¡± Annalisa pointed out. ¡°Dragonmaw isn¡¯t a safe city, and the downs least of all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re not likely to die just by setting foot in them. Delving the undercity is a constant fight for your life. You might as well pick a fight with a lamplighter.¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you caught in a fight for your life your first night in Barrowdown?¡± she asked earnestly.

    ¡°I¡­¡± I stopped and growled. I wanted to argue her point, but she was right. The downs were dangerous. But it was a day-to-day familiar danger. The undercity was foreign and deadly to me because I had never been there and had no idea how to plan for it. But adventurers delved every day, and more came out than didn¡¯t. And of those that didn¡¯t, the hydra¡¯s share of those were because of untrustworthy partners. The elf delver, Alondalis, had come to me for a reading for just such a reason. Whereas I had Annalisa, who I¡¯d faced death with on more than one occasion and trusted with my life. With her by my side, and proper planning and preparations¡­

    I rubbed my temples, and immediately regretted it when sudsy water ran down into my eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m even considering this.¡±

    Annalisa shot up from her tub and cheered. I quickly looked away, but she was wrapped in a cloth and off in a blue, soapy flash, followed by the thunderous complaint of Miss Trundi at the water being tracked across her floor.

 Chapter 44 - Perfect Planning Prior, Performs

    Chapter 44 - Perfect Planning Prior, Performs

    There was more to do, of course. I did several readings before we left for the day. Three for customers, for a bit of extra discretionary funding. Two for girls in the Mop. That second part was part of Mithra¡¯s requirement for being my unofficial spymaster. I didn¡¯t mind, as it also endeared me to the staff. Mostly, it was mundane affairs. No, that merchant is not leaving his wife for you. No, that man is not secretly a displaced prince. Do not give that hag two streets over money to cure your rotcleft. Pay for a legitimate mender.

    Things that carried more weight when stated by a seeker than an oft-scolding friend, apparently. I didn¡¯t mind, and honestly I¡¯d have done it for Mithra for the asking (though I felt no pressing need to tell her that).

    Annalisa trained in the meantime. I could hear the thock-thock of her striking the training dummy she¡¯d put in the back lot of the Mop n¡¯ Bucket the whole time I was doing my readings. When I was ready, she met me in the main room, wiping the dust and sweat from her face with a cloth. We left, headed on our first errand as I outlined my thoughts.

    ¡°If we¡¯re going to do this, we¡¯re going to do it right,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re going to go in well-provisioned, we¡¯re going to go in with a plan, and we¡¯re going to come back alive.¡±

    ¡°And it has to be within a week, because I¡¯ve got a fight and I won¡¯t make it if we¡¯re dead,¡± said Annalisa.

    ¡°Yes, death does have that effect on prior commitments.¡±

    We once again found ourselves walking the western boundaries of the Barrow toward Kindledown, making our best time to Brokier¡¯s digs and also to pay a visit to the curio shop where I¡¯d been ripped off only to then be flattened by a battle wand. I pinched the fabric of the cravat I¡¯d bought there between my fingers, scowling.

    ¡°Is that the neckerchief you got last time we were in Kindledown?¡± asked Annalisa. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say it was enchanted?¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± I said. ¡°Once I finally found time to divine the enchantment, I had initially been very confused by the results of my readings.¡±

    ¡°What was it? It seems important, somehow.¡±

    ¡°Well, it took me several different readings to suss out the enchantment on the cloth, which, as close as I can tell¡­ is a spell of inflate value.¡±

    Anna cocked her head at me. Then she chuckled. Then the chuckle turned into a full-blown belly-laugh that would have impressed an orc.

    ¡°Gods damn it all,¡± I said, face turning red. I didn¡¯t blame her for laughing. Go fucking figure that my only magic item was a neckerchief of seeming more important than it actually was. No wonder I¡¯d been so willing to shell out eight cunnings for the little black rag. Who would even waste the time and effort creating such a trinket?¡±

    ¡°At least it looks good on you,¡± said Anna, trying to control her laughs. I sniffed. It did look good against my blouse and seeker¡¯s robes. If I was to adopt this Barrow Knave persona, as Drella had put it, cultivating an image was a big part.

    ¡°Thank you, Annalisa.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Darcent.¡±

    To cultivate that image had been Jeedle¡¯s advice. He was running the pits side of the business, and he made clear to me in no uncertain terms, that it wasn¡¯t the best fighters who succeeded in the pits. It was the most memorable fighters. The ones that built themselves as a brand. Storm-Laden was a stone-mottle orc who fought bare-fisted against armed opponents because, despite being proficient with both sword and axe, he couldn¡¯t afford a weapon for his first three fights. Now, bare fists were a part of his image, and he¡¯d lose a major part of his draw by picking up a broadsword.

    Running Barrowdown, I¡¯d found, had a lot in common with pit fighting. I imagine that¡¯s why Kridick was so good at it, and why Annalisa and I were struggling to find our feet. Fresh graffiti lined the streets in the wake of Storm¡¯s fight. Some depicted the orc actually eating the elf. Others showed him more accurately running the elf through with his own spear. My personal favorites were the ones that showed him urinating on the elf with a very comically proportioned manhood.

    Graffiti was almost as good a source of current events as a newsprint. And when I evoked the four of knaves, some of the meanings of the markings became even clearer. A squiggly set of scribbles became a warning of territory marking. A pair of intertwined boxes told me of an undiscovered gambling den under a tavern. Three sets of eyes warned a particular street was being watched. Interesting. My initial assessment that the card would be useful in reading codes and secret meanings appeared to be correct.

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    I was rather surprised that, out of the entire knaves suit, only the two was a direct attack. The rest were more oriented toward controlling a battlefield, or not combat oriented at all. I still wondered what the Cour.t of Knaves would do, if I ever managed to evoke them. But they still seemed outright absent from their own card. I didn¡¯t know enough about the higher orders of each suit to know if that were normal, and Lancaster had only left one passage in the book on the subject. He¡¯d said, a knave doesn¡¯t come when he¡¯s called, he comes when he pleases. So, that was less than helpful.

    We reached Shaldar¡¯s Curios without incident. I offered a nod to the guards, who had mostly recovered from Annalisa¡¯s ministrations. They only returned my greeting with glowers, but they didn¡¯t move to stop or disarm us. Annalisa had beaten them down with nothing but her hands and feet.

    Shaldar saw me coming a mile away and made his way over.

    ¡°Ah, Master Stitches, Mistress Dunnemasrsh, welcome back to my humble home and store. The cravat looks quite at home with the colors of your trouser straps.¡±

    ¡°Not quite the greeting I was expecting, Shaldar,¡± I said. ¡°Considering what happened last time I was here.¡±

    ¡°Last time you were here, you weren¡¯t our mutual friend¡¯s new boss,¡± he pointed out helpfully. I didn¡¯t correct him. Brokier didn¡¯t work for me, per se. But I did put the rat in my pocket with our little maneuver. If he¡¯d followed my advice on the previous visit, and I believed that he had, then he should be a happy (or, at least, less terminally paranoid) wildkin.

    ¡°Speaking of our mutual friend, is he in?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I believe he is,¡± said Shaldar. ¡°Shall I take you back?¡±

    ¡°I know the way well enough,¡± I said. On a lark, I tapped the four of dragons again, looking around the shop for any magic items I had missed on the first go-around. Now that I¡¯d gotten more used to the card, I could feel more information about the things I saw¡ªnamely their value compared to their neighbors. In a way, it was almost a treasure sense. Which made sense for the suit of dragons. Unfortunately, I was disappointed by what I saw. The most valuable thing in the shop was tied around my neck.

    We headed out the dusky back room of the shop, across the muddy culvert, and over to Brokier¡¯s hovel. It wasn¡¯t any cleaner, but at least the dwarves had been by and put a new, thicker door on it that might have actually given Annalisa pause. I pounded on it, and the panel slid back. The elf bodyguard hadn¡¯t recovered as completely as Annalisa or myself, and still sported a black eye and a set of uneven stitches over his brow. His avian eyes narrowed when he saw me, but the slat slid shut and a series of metallic clicks descended behind the door.

    It swung open, and I held my breath against the odor of the hovel. We ducked inside and Brokier came out of the back room, sniffing at the air.

    ¡°Ah ha, young masters.¡±

    ¡°Hello Brokier,¡± I said. ¡°Do you have something for us?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, oh-ho. Come.¡±

    We followed him back to his office/trash heap, which didn¡¯t look like it had seen a broom since the last time we¡¯d been there. Or really, since the orcs had leveled the city, if we¡¯re being truthful. Brokier scavenged around on his desk, and I kept my left hand on the Deck of Wills in case he produced another battle wand. But he brought up a small leather purse that looked heavy with silver. He tossed it over, and it slapped into my palm with a weighty feel.

    ¡°Brokier is pleased, yes. The performance, most memorable, oh ho. And very profitable.¡±

    ¡°You were at the fight?¡± I asked, glancing at Annalisa. She shrugged. I hadn¡¯t seen the rat-marked bookie there.

    Brokier waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Nay, nay. ¡®Twas traversing in the tunnels beneath. Visiting friends, ha-ah. Heard the cheers, did Brokier.¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to ask him about the ¡®friends¡¯ he might have been visiting in the undercity. Giant rats mutated by the unsheathings were the least of the worries down there. But the fact he¡¯d been down there at all¡­

    ¡°Brokier, do you go to the undercity often?¡± I asked. ¡°And how do you avoid the monsters?

    ¡°Of course,¡± he said, thumbing the side of his nose. ¡°¡®Tis the fleetest way ¡®cross the canals, if one knows the secret ways. Oh, yes.¡±

    ¡°How would one know them?¡± I asked carefully.

    ¡°They are marked, but only for those with eyes to see,¡± he said. ¡°Not human eyes, nor,¡± he said, looking at Annalisa, ¡°Those of devils.¡±

    But I bet a knave¡¯s sense for secrets could suss them. I felt the buzz of their attention in the deck. They could smell the secrets. Maybe this plan wasn¡¯t suicide. I rubbed my chin.

    ¡°Are the young masters considering a delve?¡± he asked, sniffing the air. ¡°Treasures abound in the deep. But dangers, as well. Oh-ho, yes.¡±

    Annalisa looked at me, and I nodded. She turned back to the wild-marked. ¡°We¡¯re considering it,¡± she said.

    Brokier rooted around on his desk until he found a scrap of parchment with little written on it, and then drew a quill and scrabbled something across it. I made a note to ask him where he learned to read and write.

    ¡°Paths, peers, potions, and provisions, oh-ho. The four pillars to surviving the undercity of Dragonmaw.¡±

    ¡°I always heard it as maps, medicae, mates, and meals,¡± I said.

    ¡°Charts, chuggers, chums, and chow,¡± added Annalisa.

    Brokier held the scrap of paper out. ¡°Yes, yes. But devils live in details. The finer points, will you need, if you are to continue making Brokier a rich and happy friend, ha-ha. Take, take. Brokier give. The mage who sold me wands and curios. A delver, he, ah-ho. Has survived many plunges, yes. Consult him. Buy from him. Don¡¯t tell him I sent you.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He¡¯ll charge you double,¡± said the wildkin. ¡°He does not like poor Brokier. Not after the last party I sent him down with.¡±

 Chapter 45 - Maps, Meds, and Meals

    Chapter 45 - Maps, Meds, and Meals

    ¡°So, we¡¯ve got mates squared,¡± I said. Annalisa nodded her agreement. ¡°But do we want more? One of Jeedle¡¯s fighters, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Jeedle¡¯s got them training for fights,¡± said Annalisa. ¡°I don¡¯t want to pull them away from the pits just to help me.¡±

    I rubbed my chin. ¡°As those fights are our primary source of income, I¡¯m inclined to agree. So, we¡¯re on to maps.¡±

    ¡°Covered,¡± said Annalisa without hesitation. I raised an eyebrow at her. She beamed back, as proud as I¡¯ve seen her. ¡°My father is in the Cartographer Guild!¡±

    ¡°Convenient, if we were planning a trek overland,¡± I said. We moved out of the way as a lamplighter came down the street with his guards in tow. ¡°But we¡¯ll need specialized charts for the undercity. Potions, too.¡±

    ¡°My brother Votay is an alchemist,¡± she said.

    We resumed our path, ascending up a set of switchback steps toward the middle city.

    ¡°You¡¯re joking,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose one of them is a weapon smith that could make us magic items on the cheap?¡±

    Annalisa narrowed her brows and tapped her chin. ¡°Blane is a smith, but he¡¯s in Saltforge. That¡¯s weeks away, though.¡±

    ¡°And an even worse idea than buying them here,¡± I said. ¡°Saltforge has the Adventurers Guild headquarters. Magic items are more expensive there than anywhere.¡±

    ¡°At least provisions are easy,¡± Annalisa pointed out. ¡°The cannery puts out tinned rations for sailors and delvers.¡±

    We spent the rest of the walk to Brokier¡¯s delver contact debating the virtues of various rations. I¡¯m sure the people we passed would have mistaken us quite easily for adventurers, had I not been wearing my seeker robes and had Annalisa¡¯s badge not said Champion of Dragonmaw in little, red letters.

    It took me a few moments after leaving the downs to wonder what the difference itching at me was. I discounted the wider streets, the cleaner buildings, the nicer clothes, the¡ªlook, I discounted a lot of little differences. What I think really naggled me was the lack of something. Because while the downs lack for many things, the smell associated with slums was in no short supply. Fresher air in the middle city was becoming foreign enough to put me on edge. I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about that.

    The address Brokier had provided us turned out to be a small town flat just a mile north of the middle city arena where Storm-laden had his recent fight. The front row had a small herb garden and a sign hanging from the door in elvish. I didn¡¯t read much elvish, but a quick tap of the four of knaves informed me that it said something along the lines of Knock, stranger, and wait. I tapped on the door knocker and did just that. And was surprised¡ªjust as surprised as the occupant¡ªto see a familiar face opposite the threshold.

    The elf recovered first, smiling friendly, if apprehensively. ¡°The seeker from Nailbottom and Dour Street,¡± he said. ¡°Darcent, yes?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, wracking my memory. The elf now sported a sling around his left arm and a line of sutures along his scalp, but I still recognized him. ¡°Alondalis, right?¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you know? It¡¯s you who knocked on my door.¡±

    I dropped my hood back. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s a bad look for a seeker to not know who he¡¯s meeting.¡±

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    Alondalis looked past me at Annalisa. ¡°We¡¯re all entitled to surprises, now and then. Please, come in. Tea?¡±

    ¡°Gods, yes, thank you,¡± I said. Finally, someone civilized. The inside of the elf¡¯s flat was somewhat cramped, but no more than most houses in the middle city. He had lots of shelves with curios common to any mage. He also had a collection of books on classic arcanism that I scrutinized enviously as Alondalis put the kettle on. The hearth was cold, but Alondalis made a quick gesture with his good hand and a small flame kindled just below the kettle. Annalisa flopped into the comfiest looking chair in the main room and wrapped her tail around her legs.

    ¡°This must be the infamous Annalisa of Dunnemarsh,¡± he said, turning from the fire and offering his hand with a slight bow. Of course, Annalisa hadn¡¯t been educated in the finer points of courtesy. Rather than daintily taking his proffered hand, she grabbed him by the wrist and shook it until I thought the elf¡¯s teeth might rattle loose.

    ¡°Nice to meetcha!¡± she said, likely ecstatic that her reputation proceeded her.

    Alondalis extricated his hand and worked some blood back into his fingers. ¡°Yes, well. Imagine my surprise at learning what the penny-seeker I¡¯d consulted had been up to while I was on a delve.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of,¡± I said, ¡°I take it things did not go well?¡±

    ¡°About as well as you predicted,¡± said the elf, easing into the chair opposite Annalisa. ¡°For someone who claims to not see the future, your divinations were remarkably accurate.¡± I remained standing, perusing the titles. Many concerned the undercity, but several were more general books on magical philosophies. One caught my eye, in part because the towers in my deck buzzed when my eyes slid over it, and I pulled it down from the shelf.

    ¡°Have an interest in wards, do you?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, thumbing through the pages of very complex spell forms I had no idea how to interpret but made the towers very excited. ¡°But that¡¯s only tertiary to my visit.¡± I snapped the book shut and replaced it on the shelf. ¡°To be frank, my friend and I are in need of magic items to shore up our operations¡ªbut lack the coin to buy them outright. We were told you were a quite knowledgeable fellow where delves are concerned.¡±

    ¡°Hardly,¡± he scoffed, shrugging his bad shoulder and wincing. ¡°And not again for some time, should I have anything to say about it. More often, I make tools for delvers. Nothing permanent, mind. Limited use wands, smokeless lanterns, herbal potions.

    The kettle began to whistle, and Alondalis moved to rise. I held out a hand. ¡°Allow me,¡± I said, and pulled the kettle off the hearth. I spied a tea set and spooned a measure of ground leaf into the infuser, before pouring the boiling water into the pot to steep. I took a moment to sniff the fragrant blue grounds appreciatively.

    ¡°That¡¯s an Azurenon blend,¡± said Alondalis. ¡°Good stuff.¡±

    Alondalis was very down-to-earth for an elf, who typically act their age. Maybe he was only slightly older than he looked. Fifties, perhaps. Young, for an elf. His house didn¡¯t scream generational wealth, but the imported tea meant he did well enough for himself. He was too young to have true mastery over his tradecraft. Elves learn much slower than humans, needing many more iterations and repetitions to improve. But they eventually reach a much higher level of mastery. Once I poured the tea, he settled back once more. Anna took hers, sniffed at it, and wrinkled her nose.

    ¡°So,¡± said Alondalis, ¡°You¡¯re prepping for a delve.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question because the elf was no fool. He looked between the two of us. ¡°How well do you trust each other?¡± he asked.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been in multiple scrapes that neither of us would have seen the sunrise without the other.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± said the elf. ¡°Because the undercity is not the place to attempt to forge such bonds. It only tests them. And everyone from here to the public entrances has one goal: to separate you from your coin. Most of what you¡¯ll find offered to adventurers is cheap imitation at best, and pure fakes at worst. That includes most scrolls, potions, maps, and mercenaries.¡±

    ¡°That bad?¡± asked Annalisa.

    ¡°If anything, he¡¯s being too kind,¡± I said. ¡°Cheating adventurers is practically city tradition in Dragonmaw. Dissatisfied customers tend not to come back.¡±

    ¡°Well of course not,¡± she said.

    ¡°From the undercity, Anna.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡±

    Part of me wondered if she still didn¡¯t grasp the danger inherent in our exercise. Even a short delve carried risk. I sipped my tea and turned back to the elf. ¡°You come recommended. What do you have that¡¯s worth the silver?¡±

    ¡°Tea first,¡± said Alondalis, raising his cup. ¡°Then business. I do so relish meeting humans. You live but a century, and in that time you become a completely new person ten times.¡±

    Elves and their pleasantries. Master Hedwin had been the same way, the first night I¡¯d come to the guild academy. Fourteen years old, ripped from my home and stained with blood of both victim and villain, and the old elf had asked if I took sugar or honey.

    The tea took on a flavor almost as bitter as the memory. I drank it down anyway. We do as we must.

 Chapter 46 - For All Your Delving Needs

    Chapter 46 - For All Your Delving Needs

    Truth told, I relished the chance to speak with someone other than a Barrowdown denizen, who were an especially rough bunch that I was starting to fit in with a little too well. After tea and small talk, Alondalis struggled to rise with his injury. Annalisa jumped off her chair to help him, and I half worried she¡¯d injure him worse, but she surprised me with a gentleness I¡¯d not seen in her prior. He nodded appreciatively and gestured up the narrow stairs to a loft above. We followed him to a workshop of sorts, with racks of blank wands, brewing equipment next to neatly stacked vials, and jars of ground herbs. Rolled charts backed with leather crowded shelves beside small gadgets. I resisted the urge to whistle. Annalisa did not.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got it all, here!¡± she said. She pulled a map off the shelf at random and unrolled it, scrunching her nose at the diagrams. ¡°This looks like Oildown.¡±

    ¡°Just underneath it, actually,¡± said Alondalis. ¡°The underground areas near the unsheathings are of particular interest to the menders guild. There are herbs that help prevent the glow-steel sickness. You¡¯ll want some if you¡¯re headed near them.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not sure where we¡¯re headed,¡± I said. ¡°Only that we need magical items. But treasure to buy magic items would work too. Preferably away from any adventurer activity.¡±

    Alondalis hummed to himself and searched his shelves until he found a map that, as far as I could tell, looked like any other. ¡°I may have just the thing. You¡¯ll want the ruins beneath the western half of the middle city, then. That¡¯s where many carnivorous monsters pass through to relieve themselves on their way to nests in the deep tunnels. Ordinarily, you¡¯d rarely see one¡ªor it would see you first, which is the less preferable of the two, I don¡¯t mind telling you. But your gifts give you a unique advantage in that respect, yes? With luck, one day down, one day back up, and some clever divination, you¡¯ll locate something.¡±

    ¡°Not the tunnels?¡± I asked. Then, back-tracking through what he said, ¡°Hold on. Did you say relieve themselves?¡±

    ¡°Not that deep,¡± he replied. ¡°Blessed blue, no. Not at rank three. And yes, those are areas in which certain species drop their waste.¡±

    ¡°Like a monster privy?¡± asked Annalisa.

    ¡°Precisely. You¡¯ll find a great deal of excrement.¡±

    ¡°You want us to dig through monster excrement looking for magic items?¡± I demanded.

    Alondalis spread the chart and made a series of annotations with a grease pen. ¡°No, Darcent. You want you to dig through monster excrement. Anything big enough to pass an adventurer is likely beyond you. Not unlike humans, most monsters do not shit where they live. And they certainly do not shit where they eat.¡± he gave me a pointed look, and I nodded before he continued. ¡°Check these areas, be wary of these ones.¡±

    ¡°Which is which?¡± I asked.

    He turned the map on its side and squinted closer at it as he tapped his cheek. ¡°Mmm. It varies from delve to delve. Best be wary of all, really.¡± He tapped his cheek. ¡°Some of Margot Bethane¡¯s Horrors are still kicking around those tunnels. But, if you can take one on, many either devoured or used to be adventurers. They¡¯re all dangerous, but they¡¯ll almost all have enchanted loot. Best not to go at all, if it can be helped. Considering you¡¯re here in my workshop, I assume it truly can¡¯t be.¡±

    Annalisa shot me a look over the top of the map she was reading, but quickly looked back down when I glanced her way.

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    I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. ¡°How do you even know all this?¡± I asked.

    Alondalis turned to his cabinets. ¡°It¡¯s why I delve. Several of the plant species unique to the tunnels can be cultivated above the surface, but only when planted in fertilizer refined from local scat. Now, for your consumables.¡± He threw open the doors to reveal dozens of glass vials in neat rows. He plucked them, seemingly at random. But if the elf was to be believed, there was a method to his madness.

    ¡°The standard array includes a general antivenin, a coagulant, a burn salve, and a constitutional booster¡ªthe last you¡¯ll especially need, with the unhygienic nature of your endeavor. Ingest the first, inject the second, apply the third, and what you¡¯ll do with the last should not be discussed in polite company.¡±

    ¡°Are you serious?¡± I asked as the elf continued to root around. I glanced at Annalisa, who had her mouth clamped shut so hard veins stood out on her neck. She once again made the sign of a circle with her thumb and forefinger, which she moved the tip of her tail inexorably toward. I slapped the spade at the end of her tail before she could complete the vulgar gesture just as Alondalis turned back around. He¡¯d put two of each of the vials into a small wooden carrying box designed to be worn on a belt, and I hoped they were appropriately labeled.

    ¡°Ordinarily, I would suggest at least two offensive combat wands per delver, but I won¡¯t sell you those.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± I asked.

    The elf met my eyes. ¡°Because I know who you are, and I know what they call you in the downs. My gratitude does not extend to putting magical weapons in your hands that could be loosed in the streets of Dragonmaw. My conscience could not abide it.¡±

    ¡°What if I gave you my word that we¡¯d only use them in the undercity?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Then you still certainly couldn¡¯t afford them,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Ah, fair.¡±

    He rummaged through another cabinet and withdrew a pair of scrolls. ¡°I assume, unlike most seekers, you can evoke?¡± he asked.

    I nodded. Word that I was a full-fledged Soul Seeker was slowly spreading, despite my best efforts. In a way, it was good. A shadowy mage running the downs was a lot easier to swallow than an upstart kid with a pack of cards in tattered robes. However, my magical prowess outside the Deck of Wills was even more stunted than my first three years as a Soul Seeker.

    ¡°Be wary of scroll-peddlers. Most are simply selling worthless scraps of parchment. Divine these if you like, but I can assure you, they are real.¡±

    I didn¡¯t get the impression the elf was the type to cheat a customer, knowing what I did about his sense of duty. So I took them without questioning their voracity, only their purpose.

    ¡°One is a scroll of sense magic items. Use it at the spots I mentioned. It should work at least three more times. The other is a scroll of frighten creature in case you bite off more than you can stomach.¡±

    ¡°Not a chance!¡± said Annalisa, pounding one fist into her opposite palm.

    ¡°In any case, it should work twice more,¡± said Alondalis. He put all the items into a ruck, along with a pair of smokeless alchemical lamps, a tool set, braided rope, and a handful of other bits and bobs that one might need in the undercity. After a moment, he hemmed to himself. ¡°This should do it. Make sure you acquire more mundane bandages, antiseptics to clean anything you find, and provisions. And, of course whatever weapons you intend to bring¡ª¡° he looked at Annalisa who smiled back over the delving chart, ¡°Unless¡­ no,¡± he muttered something under his breath that sounded like ¡°no one would be that foolish.¡±

    Once all was assembled, the elf dusted his hand off. ¡°All told, with the gratitude discount, this will total up to twenty-one cunnings. And I¡¯ll let you borrow that book of wards, as well. I¡¯ve also put some non-permeable sail cloth bags in this kit. If you bring any of that excrement back up, I¡¯ll also take it off your hands at six cunnings a pound. Even if you find nothing but scat on your delve, a mere three bags will recoup the cost of the kit.¡±

    Dragons above, it was a good thing I hadn¡¯t mentioned the rat. Though, thinking of Brokier, I pulled the small purse he¡¯d given me and handed it directly over to Alondalis. He turned it up on the desk, counted out the twenty-one pieces of silver with his good hand, and dropped the remaining three back into the leather bag. So much for discretionary funding. We¡¯d better be able to find what we were looking for.

    Annalisa grinned at me. ¡°We have enough left for the clean water!¡±

    You¡¯d think a blue/black devilborn of ice and stone that delighted in beating enemies to a pulp wouldn¡¯t have such a sunny disposition, but here we are. I suppose even glaciers have a silver lining.

    I thanked the elf for the critical equipment and the book and left before he could offer us more tea and pleasantries.

    There was still so much work to be done, and first of all was that book.

    But I could feel Annalisa¡¯s eyes on me as we left, and I knew the dreaded questions were coming.

 Chapter 47 - The Talk

    Chapter 47 - The Talk

    I suppose it was inevitable once talk of Annalisa¡¯s parentage and mention of Margot Bethane came up in close enough proximity. I¡¯d seen the sidelong looks she gave me ever since the basement in Hollowdown when Mother Mayaz licked my gods-cursed face. The looks she gave when she thought I wasn¡¯t looking. As we left, she finally mustered the courage.

    ¡°Darcent¡­¡± she began. Under the light of the wane dragons, her pale blue skin had an almost ghost-white shade, close to a sky plane-touched.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.

    Annalisa hemmed a minute, which was uncharacteristic of the typically brash and outspoken woman. Though, I doubted anything she could say now would really surprise me.

    ¡°Was Margot Bethane¡­ your mother?¡±

    ¡°My what? My mother!?¡± I sputtered. Ok, so she could still shock me. ¡°No. Annalisa. The Fel Witch of Dragonmaw absolutely was not my mother. My mother was a seamstress from Stitch Alley.¡±

    Annalisa looked relieved, letting out a breath. But it caught in her throat. ¡°But that¡¯s where she died. Mother Mayaz said she could taste her on you. And you have weird powers and you¡¯re not bad bad, but you are a criminal.¡±

    ¡°Annalisa¡­¡± I began. But now that the faucet had started, all the words that Annalisa had somehow held back came bubbling out.

    ¡°You¡¯re always talking about knaves and dragons, and your plans for the city, and you have weird magic, and you¡¯re getting stronger all the time and it¡¯s scary how fast. You kill people and it doesn¡¯t seem to tear you up inside. And I think, as your bodyguard, I ought to know who you are.¡±

    She paused and looked down at the ground, then back up at me. ¡°Am I¡­ protecting a monster?¡±

    I opened my mouth, and then closed it. ¡°What could I tell you that would convince you I¡¯m not?¡±

    Annalisa leaned against the front wall of a leatherworker¡¯s stall and pulled at her horns, frustrated. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Darcent! The truth? The whole story? Can we start with that?¡±

    I looked around to make sure the street was ours and ours alone. Not that you were ever truly alone in the city that swallows all. But the closest denizens of the middle city were half a block off and headed uphill towards the upper city. The other direction, a woman was pushing out pinned clothes along a line strung between her house and her neighbors. I looked back at Annalisa, waiting for my answer.

    ¡°The truth is, I don¡¯t know, Annalisa. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m a monster, but does anyone? I¡¯m not some moral paragon. I lie, I cheat, I steal, and I scrap. That¡¯s how you survive in Dragonmaw unless you got a house name and a crest with some silly-bugger design on it like three apples or a lion and an ear of wheat. But I¡¯m not cruel. I don¡¯t delight in suffering.¡±

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    ¡°What about Margot Bethane?¡±

    I really didn¡¯t like talking about this. But Annalisa was right. She had saved my life multiple times and committed herself to my cause. She had a good reason to know. Part of it, at any rate.

    ¡°She died right in front of me,¡± I said.

    Annalisa gawked. ¡°You killed Margot Bethane?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I shouted, then softer. ¡°No. At least, I don¡¯t think so. She and her right hand came into our home and killed my mother. She was going to kill me. She grabbed my face, demanded I name myself.¡± I shivered. ¡°I still remember how her touch burned. So, I told her my name. But she just got angrier. She squeezed so hard I thought she was going to crush my jaw into powder. Then blood splashed all over my face and I blacked out. When I came to, she was dead on the ground next to my mother, her lieutenant was gone, and what was left of the city guardians were stomping down into my basement.¡±

    ¡°Why did she want to know your name?¡± asked Annalisa, cocking her head.

    ¡°Who can say the Fel Witch¡¯s workings?¡± I asked. I didn¡¯t tell her that Margot had pronounced me a chosen one. Chosen by whom, and for what, she had neglected to mention. But it couldn¡¯t be good, because prophecy never was. Out of all the basements in the city, she¡¯d sought out mine because of me. Whatever purpose darkened our doorstep, it had been purpose. Not a working of chance or coincidence. And I¡¯d put off figuring out why. But I might not have that luxury anymore. Things were moving in Dragonmaw, and Bethane clearly still had allies and followers. Even post mortem, she continued to haunt my life.

    The fact I couldn¡¯t recall seeing her actual death? Well, that just made things worse. "I honestly don¡¯t know what happened. Maybe her right hand chose that moment to stab her in the back. Maybe some spell she did backfired. Maybe I did somehow kill her. But after that day, I start seeing these cards over peoples¡¯ heads and they sent me to the Seekers Guild to learn magic and fortune telling.¡±

    Annalisa pushed off the stall and began to pace back and forth, as she did when she was thinking. Her tail thrashed, cutting through the air so sharply I could hear the swish of the air being parted.

    ¡°So, you don¡¯t think you¡¯re evil?¡± she finally asked.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°And you don¡¯t think you killed Margot Bethane?¡±

    I spread my hands. ¡°Anna, I was fifteen, dirt poor, and living in a basement. How many high-ranked adventurers did she annihilate during her reign of terror? She took apart the Silver Chalice Lions. They were a full party of star steel ranked adventurers. Do you have any idea how powerful rank 11¡¯s are?¡±

    Annalisa bit the knuckle of her finger. ¡°I guess that¡¯s true,¡± she finally admitted. Then, she brightened. ¡°Well, I guess that means I can continue being your bodyguard!¡±

    I balked. ¡°Just like that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Just like that,¡± she confirmed. She pointed her finger at me, eyes narrowing. ¡°But I won¡¯t help you be a villain. Maybe I don¡¯t understand exactly how your mind works. And you¡¯re right that you have to do the things we¡¯ve had to do to get anywhere in this city. Everyone knows those tower lords up the hill are even worse. But, if you ever start turning into Bethane, If that monster ever comes out of you, I won¡¯t hesitate. I wasn¡¯t raised to stand by and let someone use me for evil.¡±

    ¡°How will you know?¡± I asked. Annalisa wasn¡¯t the only one who had been ready to boil over. ¡°How can you tell when violence in the interest of survival spills over to cruelty and malice if cruelty is what your survival requires? When does a preemptive strike against a threat cross the line? Where does it turn evil?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll know,¡± she said, ¡°because I¡¯m not a philosopher, and so I don¡¯t waste my time worrying about silly things like anything you just said.¡±

    It ought be said, Annalisa¡¯s mind was often a mystery to me, too.

    I sighed. ¡°Thanks, Annalisa.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For not assuming that I¡¯m a monster.¡±

    Annalisa grinned. ¡°Just a bit of a freak.¡±

    I laughed. ¡°Just a bit¡ªwait,¡± my eyes narrowed. ¡°You don¡¯t still believe...¡±

    She pushed off the wall and continued toward Barrowdown. ¡°Eyes off the tail, Darcent.¡±

    Some things were just never going to change.

 Chapter 48 - A Ward Winning Performance

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 Chapter 49 - Mender Childes Unfortunate Nose

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 Chapter 50 - The Teeth

    Chapter 50 - The Teeth

    Unfortunately, spreading our influence to Kindledown was something of an upstream swim. A half-orc cartel ran operations in that particular stretch of the lower city, affectionately known as The Teeth. In fact, Kridick had originally risen from their pits. For having so much mixed blood, the mongrels are a surprisingly insular bunch. They didn¡¯t like control of Barrowdown falling to a human and a devilborn. Brokier had been one of their overtures to taking back control. There had been other probes, but here is where I intended to put a stop to it. I wouldn¡¯t allow them to continue thinking I or Annalisa was someone they could muscle in on.

    We met Jeedle on the eastern side of Kindledown, near one of their proper dugout pits. Annalisa¡¯s budding popularity didn¡¯t warrant a middle city arena like Storm-Laden''s champion-level fights, but she¡¯d at least graduated from dusty bar rooms. Plenty of coin already changed hands in the crowds watching the preliminaries. But it was nothing compared to the silver backing Anna¡¯s fight.

    Jeedle gave me the look up and down in my ridiculous getup. ¡°Lad, I know I counseled you to cultivate a look, but this weren¡¯t what I¡¯d fixed in mind.¡±

    ¡°Jeedle, just¡­ not tonight,¡± I said through gritted teeth, trying to keep my face from turning red under the wide brim of Daimen¡¯s hat. ¡°Let¡¯s just get to work.¡±

    ¡°Oh, aye, fine,¡± said Jeedle. He clamped a pipe between his teeth, looked at the nearby structures, and then thought better of lighting it. He waved Annalisa through. ¡°Off with ye.¡±

    ¡°Bye, Darcent!¡± she said, waving as she jogged off to get prepped for her fight. Jeedle reached up to loop his thick arm around my shoulder and herded me in the other direction.

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    ¡°What do we know about The Teeth?¡± I asked. Across the pit, several clusters of half-orcs with wrestling bands that marked them as members of the gang stalked the edges of the crowd taking odds and occasionally collecting.

    ¡°They¡¯re a mean bunch, but they hurt for mages,¡± said Jeedle.

    ¡°On account of mages don¡¯t like being smacked around?¡±

    ¡°On account o¡¯ mages don¡¯t like being smacked around. Not by orcs, at least.¡± Jeedle lowered his voice. ¡°Them girls at the Mop is another story,¡± he confided. Then he cleared his throat. ¡°Got to recruit from outside the Teeth for fixers, and that makes ¡®em leery on who to trust.¡± Jeedle pointed to one of them, and I recognized the half-orcwoman with the veldt-cut I¡¯d seen at Annalisa¡¯s first match. A wary-looking mender stood beside her. I recognized him, too. She¡¯d smacked him around when they¡¯d lost. ¡°That¡¯s their boss.¡±

    ¡°Leader of the Teeth?¡± I asked. ¡°Let me guess, they call her Fang?¡±

    ¡°No, boy. They call her Foe Skull Crusher Bite. An¡¯ pay heed cause it ain¡¯t a euphemism. Kindledown was run by an old wolf called Bartook, til she cracked open his head and ate his brains like a pudding. The only thing what kept her out of Barrowdown was Kridick having no love for her pits or her patronage.¡±

    And now Kridick was gone, while Foe looked east with hungry eyes. If I didn¡¯t want to end up with my frontal lobe on her menu, I had to be subtle. My plan had been to take out the fixer on their side of the pit, but I also didn¡¯t want to get on the bad side of the Menders Guild when I so often needed their services. Their fixer being a mender made things... complicated.

    ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll make the rounds. Is the fix in on our end?¡±

    ¡°No. Bloody sniffer wanted a king¡¯s ransom. If this was in my pit, things would differ. But it¡¯s Kindledown, and he don¡¯t want to feel the Teeth bite down.¡±

    Couldn¡¯t say that I blamed him. I clapped Jeedle on the shoulder and extricated myself from his company. Well, our fixer was out and the sniffer couldn¡¯t be bought, that meant direct intervention on my part was necessary to see Annalisa through this. But my options were limited to the fight itself. I couldn¡¯t expose the cheating like I had in the middle city arena.

    I just hoped whoever they had punching for the orcs was at least somewhat in the same ballpark as Annalisa in terms of skill so that she could hold out until I figured how to win this thing. I found a quiet corner for myself in an alley, kneeling in the cleanest spot I could find, and did a quick three-card draw on him.

 Chapter 51 - Angel on the Shoulder

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 Chapter 52 - Den of Mongrels

    Chapter 52 ¨C Den of Mongrels

    I soon passed out of range of the card I¡¯d slipped in the mender¡¯s pocket. But I didn¡¯t need further diretions. Kindledown was my old haunt. I knew these streets, even though many of the buildings lining them had been boarded up, burned down, or rebuilt in the years since. The Teeth were but one of a dozen new additions. The old wildmarked pack of wolf-kin running the place when I was a boy had been a sour bunch, but not needlessly cruel like their ousters. If you stayed out of their way, they wouldn¡¯t go out of it to harm you.

    But orcs from Kalash and the Veldt were cannibals and worse. Their city-faring mongrel broods weren¡¯t much better, in my experience. Though they¡¯d inherited the strength of their sires, it had come with an inferiority complex and a need to swing that weight around.

    What I¡¯m saying was, locating the Teeth hideout wasn¡¯t difficult. It was the one building on the block that people crossed the street to avoid. It was plastered with orc graffiti and shamanistic sigils, crude drawings of god beasts with exaggerated genitals, and vivid warnings to stay clear in less polite language. Naturally, I could not. Nor, could I do a reading without the four of knaves in my deck. This wasn¡¯t the first time I had to go in blind. I didn¡¯t know if I was walking into one mongrel or a dozen. I made a mental note to start carving some duplicate cards for situations like this in the future, so I wouldn¡¯t be caught blinded and unable to gain critical intel from divination.

    The last time I¡¯d headed into the headquarters of another lower city gang, I¡¯d ended up crushed against the ground by a much stronger mage. The orcs didn¡¯t have mages, but they also didn¡¯t need magic to crush me. Their fists and feet would do just fine. I watched the building for a few minutes, drawing on the dragon¡¯s gaze to try and spot any sentries. Either they were exceptionally well-hidden, or the mongrels only ran a skeleton crew on fight nights. Maybe they were just supremely overconfident no one would dare challenge them in Kindledown.

    Either way, wane light burned and soon Annalisa would be facing the bolstered Teeth fighter without my help. Even with her meteoric growth as a fighter, I held no illusions how that fight would turn out. Too much silver was wrapped up in her winning. We desperately needed those funds. I circled around behind the compound and started looking for a way in.

    Typically, the best way into a protected building in the downs is via the joined cellars or rooftops of the other structures crammed against them. A tenement on the north side of the block had stacked rubbish high enough for me to get my fingers up over the gutter and swing through an open shutter. Making sure the room was empty, I let myself out into the hall and listened for movement below. The walls, being paper thin, played host to at least six different arguments, and not all of them in the tenement.

    I pulled my knife and used it to jimmy open the trapdoor to the attic. Even several hours after sunset, the heat in the cramped space was oppressive. I worked my way through the dark, spitting out cobwebs and worrying about putting a nail through my hand.

    Somehow, I managed to get to the vent without lockjaw and peered through the slats at the back lot behind the Teeth headquarters. One of the gangers was back there relieving himself against the wall just underneath me, and demons below, I swear the caustic stench of his waste threatened to burn a hole in my sinuses all the way from the attic. I¡¯m surprised it didn¡¯t catch the building on fire.

    Wishing I had a free hand to hold over my nose, I eased the shutter out of its place and set it aside in the attic. Then, I slipped my knife out of its sheath again and drew the two of knaves from my deck. I charged it with my will and the shadowy keen slick spread across the surface of the blade.

    The half-orc finished up, belched, and turned around. As soon as he did, I was out the window and falling towards him. I plunged my knife into his neck as my sudden weight bore him to the ground. He gurgled and bled as I scrambled on top of him and pushed his face into the mud. A few rapid heartbeats later, and the Teeth ganger was dead. Not the stealthiest kill, but with the night noise of the city, you¡¯d be hard-pressed to hear it through any walls. Otherwise, quick, and clean. Neatly done, if I say so myself.

    I looked up from the body, right into the slack-jawed faces of two more mongrels through the open window on the backside of their hideout.

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    Shit. So much for my hope that he was the only one left to watch the mender¡¯s brother.

    They didn¡¯t stay stunned for long before those shocked expressions twisted into grotesques of fury. One of them roared and launched himself right through the window, while the other at least thought to grab a club and a small buckler, first.

    I had bare moments to fan out my cards and pull the two of towers. reinforcing my flesh with its power. The second mongrel hesitated when he saw the cards, but the first barreled on, heedless. He drew back, ready to hammer me with a haymaker from the right side, and probably expecting me to fall back from my much larger opponent. Instead, I slipped forward and low, slicing my blade against his ribs. I jabbed it a second time before he could turn around, hoping to slip between his ribs. But the dagger skipped over thick bone and the enchantment from the two of knaves shattered.

    Heedless of the cuts I¡¯d dealt him, the mongrel twisted, terrifyingly quickly, for his size. His elbow caught the side of my chin, and without the reinforcement from the towers, I¡¯d have been out like a street lamp at dawn. He followed up with a two-handed grab for my middle, hoping to wrap me up and pin my knife hand all at once. I dropped a shadow clone and half-stepped back. The impatient brawler staggered through it, startled at the lack of mage caught in his grip, and his face at a level with mine while his hands were crossed. I plunged my knife into one of his wide eyes. No need for the keening enchantment there. Personally, I¡¯m surprised he had enough brains to stab.

    Even as his body dropped, along with the inverted fool arcana above his forehead, I felt a surge of alarm from the towers and threw myself to the ground. A thick cudgel whistled overhead. Had it connected, towers or no towers, my brains would have been painting the tenement. I rolled to the side to avoid the follow-up strike that sent filthy mud flying and managed to scramble to my feet.

    Unlike his very dead friend, the mongrel who¡¯d stopped and thought to grab his kit continued showing caution, circling around to my left as he hefted the weapon. The balance arcana hung in front of his forehead. Even trades, in-kind swaps, good matches. He looked me up and down, eyeing the cards suspended around my left hand, as well as the knife in my right. He hefted his club. ¡°Mine¡¯s bigger,¡± he said.

    I made no response.

    The half-orc pushed a step closer, and I gave ground. He continued. ¡°I know who you are. Boss said you¡¯d make a play here. But not so soon, and not dressed like a three-clip whore on wageday.¡±

    He was trying to make me nervous. It wasn¡¯t working, because I was way past nervous and well into terrified-as-all-hells territory. And I knew for a fact that Daimen charged two cunnings a toss to the upper city fops that came to see him. Still, I missed my Seeker robes. They weren¡¯t armored, but they at least threw off an enemy¡¯s aim.

    He even opened his arms, leaving his chest vulnerable. ¡°Come on. How about a free swing?¡±

    It was a trap. An open invitation to a shattered wrist on the rim of his buckler. When my opponent realized that I wouldn¡¯t rise to his taunting, he darted in. The mongrel moved faster than his size would suggest and feinted with the cudgel before punching out with his buckler. I barely managed to avoid having my face staved in by the steel face of the small shield, let alone finding an opening to strike back with the dagger, before the club swung down in earnest.

    I sent my will into the deck, spinning the fan of cards to distract him as I dropped another shadow clone. The club smashed through the cards and the clone, and I took a stab for the orc¡¯s throat. But he smashed my arm away with the rim of the buckler. If I hadn¡¯t had the tower buff, I¡¯m sure it would have shattered my forearm. As it was, I barely kept hold of the knife as my hand went completely numb.

    Not interested in letting up the pressure, he struck at me with the spiked pommel of his cudgel. I slipped to his left, and he followed, cutting me off with another swing that I barely leaned back out of the way of. I brought my knife up from below, but he parried its edge with his buckler and grinned. He knew he had the upper hand in a face-to-face fight.

    ¡°Going to crack open your eggs and scramble them for breakfast, boy,¡± he taunted.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make sense,¡± I replied.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna¡¯ fucking die! Does that make sense?¡±

    He jammed the end of his cudgel into my midsection. I stumbled back, and the mongrel stalked to the side. He was toying with me, now. He kicked over the body of his comrade. Glassy eyes stared up. The orc spat down into the mud beside him. ¡°I can¡¯t believe these fools died to you. A fucking whore-dressed cunt with a short blade that can¡¯t even fight proper.

    I stumbled back, hand to my side while the orc laughed. I relied too much on Annalisa to do the heavy lifting in combat. Even with the training I¡¯d been doing, I didn¡¯t know how to get inside the reach of a longer weapon wielded by a skilled fighter. That¡¯s not a great blind spot for a knife-user. It was the same problem I¡¯d faced with the Mayazian swordsman. I needed reach. I needed something that could control spacing, instead of letting my opponent dictate it. And unlike the Mayazian web-mancer, I didn¡¯t think the orc was going to let me stand back and flick cards at him. I called them back to my hand and fanned them out in the air again, anyway.

    But maybe I didn¡¯t have to throw them. I just needed them to reach past the cudgel. Or use them to get the mongrel even closer.

 Chapter 53 - A Gambit of Wills

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 Chapter 54 - Pitted

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 Chapter 55 - The Match for the Matchbox District

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 Chapter 56 - Overtures

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 Chapter 57 - In My Own Company

    Chapter 57 ¨C In My Own Company

    Mithra was waiting for me when I awakened. I hadn¡¯t even remembered climbing into rat-bed, but at least I hadn¡¯t slept for days this time. In fact, I¡¯d beaten Annalisa downstairs with a couple hours of daylight left. When Mithra saw me, she put two fingers against a kettle. The tin turned red under her touch as she poured steaming water into a waiting cup.

    I sat down next to her in silence for a few minutes, then took a sip of the tea.

    ¡°Apology accepted,¡± I said. ¡°How are the collections coming?¡±

    ¡°At a trickle,¡± said Mithra. She slid a package across the bar that must have been my missing clothing while shaking her head. ¡°They still underestimate that girl. And they don¡¯t understand what it means to have you backing her. There¡¯s a lot of small wagers to collect, and a lot of people to convince who got the idea that they don¡¯t have to pay up just because the Teeth aren¡¯t running things anymore. But Jeedle¡¯s got his boys making the rounds, and we expect at least a quarter of it by midnight.¡±

    ¡°You put a lot of faith in us, but it was far from a sure thing.¡± I thought back to the fight, and that big axe-blade swinging for my face and shuddered. ¡°Will it be enough to finish paying off the dwarves and get some adventurers patrolling the matchbox?¡±

    Mithra wrinkled her nose. ¡°Maybe some tinners barely worth their badges. But it¡¯s best to be on good terms with the carpenters¡ªknowing your reputation.¡±

    ¡°Hmm...¡± I said. ¡°I need some walking around money, too,¡± I said.

    ¡°Not too much, I hope,¡± said Mithra, using her tail to draw a small purse out from behind the bar. She dropped it in my waiting hand. ¡°Bring back enough for me to shave the top without you noticing. Whats it for?¡±

    ¡°Trust me, I notice,¡± I said, tying the purse to my belt. I patted the package of clothing. ¡°First, I¡¯m visiting the tailor to make sure that this,¡± I gestured to Damen¡¯s ruined clothing, ¡°doesn¡¯t ever happen again.¡±

    I could definitely tell Mithra was trying to suppress a smile. I glared at her, but that just made her smile grow wider, which, in turn, made me blush when I remembered what she¡¯d probably(definitely) seen. Not that I really minded, but she made such a spectacle of it specifically to get under my skin.

    ¡°Then? You¡¯re going to be disappointed. Stuffy mage stuff. Books and ink.¡±

    ¡°Sounds lonely.¡± Mithra blew out a breath and tucked the hair out of her face and behind her horns. Then she brightened. ¡°Want some company?¡±

    ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°Normally two cunnings. But for you? One and six clips. And dinner.¡±

    I tsked as I got up from my stool. ¡°Too rich for my blood. I can¡¯t afford you, Mithra.¡±

    ¡°With the silver you¡¯re flush with?¡± She spun on her seat and arched her back against the bar, stretching her arms overhead. ¡°I¡¯m worth it,¡± she said in a sing-song voice, and then laughed. Her laugh sent shivers down my back. And not in fear.

    ¡°Of that, I have no doubt.¡±

    I went out back for a quick(blessedly cold) dip before heading upstairs to change into freshly laundered clothes. There¡¯s something about fresh threads after a bath that make you feel like a new man¡ªeven if the water had been almost black by the time I was done scrubbing the grime off. When I came back down, Mithra was gone, but Miss Trundi had decided to attack the floor with a broom. She pointedly ignored me as I made my way out into the evening. I decided to go without Annalisa. Both to let my partner recover and to maintain some amount of anonymity in the circles I¡¯d be visiting.

    The wane dragons were just starting to show themselves in the sky. I made my way to the seamstress who had mended my robes and got her recommendation for a good tailor. The only one in this neck of the ¡®Maw who patterns for bean poles, she¡¯d said. Then, she tried to feed me so that I could fill out my clothes a bit better.

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    Unable to refuse under threat of violence, I took the proffered fish sandwich that tasted marginally better than a tide pool and ate it on my way to the tailor. Once there, the seamstress¡¯ name got me a discount (about as slim as the seamstress claimed I was) on three shirts and two pairs of trousers with reinforced knees and gussets. He took my measure and my coin and sent me on my way.

    I headed north after that, into the middle city. Mages were rare, as were the storefronts that catered to their needs. I wanted to avoid the ones near the Soul Seekers academy. Instead, I swung by Alondalis¡¯ home to ask his advice. He wasn¡¯t in, and I briefly entertained breaking in to liberate a few battle wands¡ªbut decided against it. Beside the fact that I liked the elf, undoubtedly he would have some magic defenses against harmful intent that I had no wish to run afoul of. I¡¯d gotten the book of wards from him, after all.

    So, that left the best of worst options that I knew of in the upper city. I headed for the closest shop to me, because it was also the furthest shop I knew from the upper city guilds. It¡¯s about two hours uphill walk from the downs to the upper city, if you hoof it. I was glad I¡¯d left the heavy seeker robe in my office for this trek. Late in summer, the sun baked the city and all that heat still radiated off once the sun set. At dusk the sea breeze stilled, and I had picked a particularly stifling day. By the time I got to the upper city, I was sweating and thirsty. I¡¯d stop in a pub for an ale on the way back down. I didn¡¯t want to give these posh upper-city swank clubs my silver.

    I had to admit, it had become strange to spend the entire day alone. Most of my time at the academy had been spent in my own company, but for the past months I¡¯d been almost inseparable from Annalisa. Without Annalisa bouncing off every wall in the city, it almost felt too quiet. Just me, the night traffic, incoherent angry shouting, the odd twang of a crossbow or pop of a pistol, the breaking of glass, and vague muffled threats. You know, Dragonmaw. Plus, no one was trying to kill me¡ªwhich had become somewhat novel. Life really had been easy in the upper city. But, easy was boring. I¡¯d stagnated here. Lost sight of my goals and stalled out my magic with stuffy lectures and dusty classrooms.

    Hawkley¡¯s didn¡¯t look like much. A narrow facade crushed between a book binder and a cosmetics store, the little magic shop looked as though it¡¯s neighbors had squeezed it from a double to a single with the second story that sprouted out the top at an odd angle. I let myself in to the chorus of the little bell over the door. The smell of old parchment and reagents took me right back to the academy days.

    ¡°Young master,¡± said Hawkeye, bustling up. He was a dwarf, and it seemed they always bustled. He wiped clean a pair of spectacles before wiping the top of his head with the same cloth. ¡°What can this humble peddler offer you?¡±

    ¡°Humble my narrow ass,¡± I said. ¡°You always said you had the best goods in the upper city and thrice damn the cod of any man who argued.¡±

    He put on his spectacles and squinted. ¡°Cock of a dragon! Darcent! Why, I¡¯ve not seen hide nor hair of you in months!¡± he bustled back between the narrow shelves. Hawkley had always had a soft spot for me because I didn¡¯t treat him the way the posh highborn kids did. I treated him like a dwarf, with all the swearing and wheeling and dealing that came with it. ¡°You¡¯ll be needing a heap of books for the fall semester, then?¡±

    I made my way through the store, running my fingers over the shelves filled with reagents and apparatus for everything from divination to the culinary dark arts. ¡°Afraid not, Hawkley,¡± I said. ¡°My deck has seen better days. I need to make some replacements.¡± I pulled out the deck and set it on the counter.

    ¡°Pains me to hear that, lad,¡± came his response from the other room. Hawkley returned with an armload of books stacked as high as his head. He muscled them onto the counter and then glared at them.

    ¡°You don¡¯t give a shit,¡± I said.

    ¡°I give a shit about the book stipend I¡¯ll be missing out on,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°Fair.¡± I pointed at the one on the bottom. ¡°Just this one. Pointre¡¯s Portraits in Ink.¡±

    His glare shifted to me. I held my hands up. He grunted and wedged the book on tarot portraits from the stack and slid it over. Then he picked up my deck and began to thumb through it.

    ¡°Cor, you weren¡¯t bluffing. These look like you took a sword to them.¡±

    An axe, but who¡¯s keeping track? I remained silent while the dwarf nodded.

    ¡°Blanks and ink, then. The cedar and terrapin shell, if memory serves?¡±

    Crushed Terrapin shell made for a decent enough arcanist ink, but it was the cheapest of the cheap. and tended to gum up when inking fine carvings. Likewise with blessed cedar from the Daybreaker druid glades. That had a tendency to swell when moist and did not stand up to a mad half-orc chieftess¡¯ scrutiny. With how much I¡¯d been relying on this deck to save my life, recently, I weighed the purse on my belt and considered investing in something stouter.

    ¡°Starfoil, if you have it. And do you have any fae teak?¡±

    Hawkley¡¯s bushy eyebrows climbed halfway to the top of his bald head. ¡°Oh-ho! moving out but not moving on, I see. Let me see.¡±

    Hawkley disappeared into the back and the distinct sound of rummaging filtered out. The old, salty dog. I knew he was just stirring his thick fingers in a bowl of bits while he puffed on his pipe. He knew exactly where he kept everything. But he was at least as much a showman as I was.

    While I waited, trying not to smile at the exaggerated clatter, the bell at the door chimed, and a set of voices filtered in. I stiffened when I recognized them.

    They were classmates from the academy.

 Chapter 58 â€“ Classmates

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 Chapter 59 â€“ Kindred Bonding

    59 ¨C Kindred Bonding

    ¡°Darcent, wait,¡±

    Just what I needed. Still, I slowed so that Quinn could catch up. He fell into step beside me. ¡°So... you¡¯ve bonded more cards,¡± he said.

    ¡°If this conversation has a point, you should get to it, Quinnith. I have a lot to do tonight.¡±

    He raised his hands. ¡°Woah, woah. I¡¯m just curious, you know? Look, how about I buy you a beer.¡±

    As much as I wanted to get back to the lower city, I was parched. Hawkley¡¯s dusty shop hadn¡¯t helped matters any. I didn¡¯t want to pay inflated upper-city prices just to sate my own discomfort when I¡¯d just spent more than was wise on materials for a new deck. ¡°Just one.¡±

    Quin clapped me on the back of the shoulder and grinned. ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡±

    We found a pub nearby and I have to admit, I was caught off guard by the lack of shadowed corners and knife-gouges in the bar top. A lutist strummed a mellow ditty while fops in crossed stockings sipped at clear spirits. The whole thing made me pine for the lower city, but I slid onto a stool while Quinnith ordered us a couple of pints.

    ¡°I wanted to ask if there was any truth to what Drella was saying,¡± said Quinnith.

    I took a long pull of my drink and practically gasped with relief. ¡°You mean if I¡¯m the Barrow Knave? Ask your cards.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t believe that. But did you actually get all four of your suits?¡±

    I thought carefully about my answer. ¡°Barely. Towers and storms.¡±

    ¡°Ouch.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± I said. Storms was notoriously one of the most difficult suits to master, and thus far I¡¯d still only bonded with the two. I wasn¡¯t much better off with Towers, but at least Storms hadn¡¯t left me bedridden for days. ¡°What about you? Find your fourth?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to talk to you about,¡± said Quinnith. ¡°It¡¯s knaves. I haven¡¯t told anyone.¡±

    ¡°Mmm... Demons and knaves. Bet that¡¯ll be great for your reputation.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he scoffed. ¡°Aside the fact that Guifoyle¡¯s been on the warpath for a new training dummy? He already hated me because I was quarter-gold. But just my luck, I snuck the answers for a Will Theory exam out of Master Bluthard¡¯s attach¨¦. Next thing you know, he¡¯s walking in and the three of knaves turns me into a walking shadow. Almost gave him a conniption fit, but I got away.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Interesting,¡± I said. There was always some variation in what cards did between different Soul Seekers. A living shadow disguise was almost as interesting as a discrete decoy.

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    ¡°Yeah, but that still makes me demon-courted. It¡¯s not dragon-courted, but...¡± he held his hands up above the bar, as if weighing two terrible options, and then let them drop. ¡°Almost better to not have a fourth suit at all. I already couldn¡¯t get anywhere with demons. Now? I¡¯m barely half a seeker.¡±

    ¡°At the academy, maybe¡± I tapped my finger against the bar. Demons and Knaves. I had uses for someone with those talents. The dragons rumbled in what remained of my deck. ¡°I will tell you one thing. I didn¡¯t really start to understand what kind of seeker I was until I left.¡±

    Quinnith narrowed his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving the academy, Darcent. I¡¯ve only got two years left before I go guild. All I¡¯m asking for is advice on knaves.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you to leave,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m telling you that secrets to demons and knaves aren¡¯t in lectures and coursework. And neither is silver. Come find me at the Mop and Bucket in the lower city in a week or so if you¡¯re interested in either. I¡¯ve got a... call it an excursion that keeps getting put off that I need to attend to before I can help you.¡±

    Quin pulled out his deck and did a single card reading. I didn¡¯t look at the result. He dropped a couple coins on the bar and left without another word. I stayed long enough to finish his untouched ale. No sense letting posh upper city drinks go to waste.

    Still, I couldn¡¯t help thinking more on the encounter with my former schoolmates as I made my way back down to the lower city under the wane light. I had to do what I could to diffuse this whole barrow knave thing. But it¡¯s not exactly easy to pull over a ruse on folks who make a living sussing the truths of the universe.

    I had almost made it back to barrowdown when a shaded figure detatched itself from the wall and pulled a length of steel. He had a bronze adventurers badge on his lapel and a crumpled parchment in his other hand with my portrait on it.

    ¡°Found you, Barrow Knave! You¡¯re under arreghgh¡ª¡°

    The two of knaves clipped his throat and he pushed his hands to his throat as he fell to the gutter. I called the card back to my outstretched hand and replaced it in my pocket, also briefly tapping the four of dragons to see if the would-be bounty hunter had any magic items as I passed. He didn¡¯t, so I never even broke stride.

    Finding the sloshing muck of Barrowdown once again beneath my feet, I trudged back to the Mop, only to find it in its usual disarray. The talent plied their trade on a wide array of drunks and those who had winnings from the local fighting pits. Annalisa was on a table, dancing to a rowdy jig the red-coated lutist strummed while Miss Trundi shouted for her to get down.

    Instead, Annalisa conjured an obsidian portal, parallel to the ground, and began to dance on that, which got yet another round of cheers and applause (and more than a few spilled drinks). Our red-coated friend strummed faster, his fingers a blur on the strings. Annalisa huffed and puffed, trying to keep up with the tempo, until she finally tripped on her own tail. She toppled sideways and crashed through the table Miss Trundi was trying to wipe the boot-prints from.

    I headed over hauling the cackling devilborn up to her feet. She raised both her hands in the air to the cheers and whistles.

    ¡°Darcent!¡± she shouted. ¡°Want me to teach you how to dance? I¡¯m really good at it!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the furniture can take much more of your dancing, Annalisa!¡± I shouted. Despite my protestations, she pulled me into a spinning dance, and it was all I could do to keep up with her fighter¡¯s footwork. Oddly enough, the storms in my broken deck seemed particularly interested in the chaotic jig, which I filed away for later.

    Eventually, Annalisa handed me off to Mithra as she switched to a new partner of her own. Mithra let me spin her around for a few minutes before another girl replaced her, and I even found my toes getting stepped on by Miss Trundi¡¯s heavy boots at one point as she hiked up her dress and rattled some floor boards.

    Foe Skull had been right about one thing. I hadn¡¯t won the Mop. Or Barrowdown, for that matter. Not until I¡¯d gone down into the pit with her and come out still breathing. Now? This was our town. And gods help Kridick, or Daggertongue, or Mother Mayaz, or anyone else who came to take it away.

    End of Arc 4

 Chapter 60 - Interlude IV

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    Arc V - The City Beneath

 Chapter 61 - To Go Below

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 Chapter 62 - A Proper Test Run

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 Chapter 63 - A Favor From a Rat

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 Chapter 64 - An Unconventional Access

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 Chapter 65 - She Wasnt Ready

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 Chapter 66 - Were With the Guild

    Chapter 66 - We¡¯re With the Guild

    Six hours later and our new friends were still with us. We remained up on the shelf, waiting for them to tire or grow bored. But neither seemed to happen.

    I pried loose a chunk of old masonry and idly chucked it down at the milling creatures. They scattered around the impact, then rushed in to see if the half-brick was edible. Finding it not-so, they quickly returned to milling about and occasionally chirping up at us in a ripple across the room.

    ¡°Fuck you!¡± I shouted back down, and then couched my chin in my hand. I glared over at Annalisa. ¡°This was a great way to get magic items.¡±

    Annalisa said nothing. She had dozed off after over exerting herself with the tunnel. Even having borrowed my stamina and will to do it, moving two souls through the plane of frost had taken a lot out of her. I riffled through my deck and considered. Annalisa and I were well-suited to individual opponents, but had nothing to deal with swarms of enemies. I set aside everything but the dragons, towers, and storms and considered. The stone skin from the flesh of towers was, as far as I could tell, purely defensive. I had no reason to believe any of the other cards in a suit steeped in isolation and denial would kill the ¡®little crusties¡¯ as Annalisa had taken to calling them (and since they were not in the undercity primer, I could think of no better alternative)

    I still had four cards left to bond with in the suit of storms, but they were earily silent. Lancaster¡¯s manual suggested that the storms were all about quelling chaos through a violent rebalancing, but the crusties moved as one mind, and there was a strange order to their actions already. Either way, storms were notoriously difficult to bond with, made even more difficult to manifest the ability in the ordered, structured institution of the academy.

    Of the dragons, I still had the two and the five with which I¡¯d yet to use. The flame of dragons and the forming of dragons. Frustratingly, the flame of dragons seemed amenable to my will, having bonded to me during the fight in Kindledown. For obvious reasons, I¡¯d avoided using a card called the flame of dragons in the matchbox district. It¡¯s just that feeding power into it seemed to do nothing other than make the card glow. Triple frustrating because, in theory, what could be better at clearing a swarm of enemies than a dragon¡¯s flame?

    I did a quick one card reading. Sure enough, the two of dragons emerged at the top. I reshuffled and did another. Again, the two of dragons. I picked it up and looked at the roaring beast wreathed in flame inked bright silver against the dark wood. The message couldn¡¯t be clearer. This card was our ticket out.

    I held the card out toward the creatures below and sent my will into it. It glowed a faint orange and got a little warm but cooled in seconds. Then, nothing. I sighed. Maybe it was like the three of dragons and bestowed a blessing on someone else. But that seemed oddly generous for such ravenous, selfish creatures. Still, worth a shot. I tapped Annalisa with the card, but she just mumbled in her sleep. There was no difference in the card or myself to suggest it was siphoning power into her.

    Useless.

    I sighed, restacking my deck. The dragons in my deck flared, affronted at my jab. They wanted to be unleashed against my enemies.

    Well then work! I shot back. Their rage subsided to a dull, sulky grumbling. I¡¯d read about masters communing with the Wills before. I¡¯d never read that they could be so damn petulant. That¡¯s a five-cunning word I learned at the academy that means fucking petty. Still, that their feelings were coming in more and more clearly spoke to my progress with the Wills.

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    A different tone of chirp alerted me that something was going on below. The warbling cry propagated through the group, and the herd became a scuttling, scrabbling mass of spike legs and eyestalks. I shook Annalisa awake, and we watched in fascination as the entire swarm crowded themselves into nooks and crannies until not a single crustie remained visible.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± I muttered. The beasts were certainly still down there. Not every one of those crevices could have led out of the room¡ªsome of them were simply overgrown slabs of fetid furniture, long-rotted and covered with lichen. But then I spotted it: a flickering light down another tunnel. A pair of voices followed it, and a group of five figures entered the gallery. I smacked Annalisa¡¯s boot to wake her up and then cupped my hands around my mouth.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled down.

    They stopped and squinted up, holding their lamp against the gloom. I could see two humans, one with a spear and the other a wand, and a trio of drakkyn pistoliers behind them. One of the drakkyn pointed up at us and the spearman cupped his hand.

    ¡°What are you doing up there?¡±

    ¡°Get off the ground!¡± yelled Annalisa, beside me.

    The two looked at each other confused, and came closer. Perhaps it was to better hear us, or perhaps to get a better look at the two shelf gremlins.

    ¡°No!¡± I yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright!¡± said the mage. ¡°We¡¯re with the Guild. You¡¯re safe, now.¡±

    They must have crossed whatever invisible threshold signaled the horde, because the crusties rushed from their hiding spots as one, swarming toward the two adventurers and the drakkyn gunners on a tide of skittering legs.

    The adventurers shouted in alarm, and the ear-splitting reports of the drakkyn pistols, set off by sparks of their living lightning, began to ring out. The spearman stepped forward, sweeping the leaf-shaped spearhead from side to side to make room for his partner, who leveled the battle wand and blasted at least a dozen of the crusties to bits. That slowed at least twice their number as they stopped to feast on their fallen, but it was a small fraction compared to the mass that continued to surge forward. I heard the sizzle and snap of at least one of the pistoliers discharging his entire reserve of living lightning at the leaping crusties.

    ¡°Hear that, Anna?¡± I shouted over the racket. ¡°They¡¯re with the Guild. We¡¯re Safe now.¡±

    She shot a glare as sharp as a keen-slick blade at me and I sighed. Of course she would want to help them. I sighed. How did I end up with the only bleeding-heart devilborn in Dragonmaw for a partner?

    Who was I kidding? I was lucky to have her. But she was at least as stubborn as any of my dragon cards.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, fanning out my deck, ¡°buy me some space. On three.¡±

    Annalisa pushed herself off the shelf, landing hard on a pair of the crusties, and, shouting at the top of her lungs, cracked the shells of two more with a pair of quick spiked jabs.

    ¡°Three,¡± I muttered, dropping down to a low hang and letting myself fall to the floor.

    It took the swarm a moment to realize we had joined the fight behind the majority of its momentum, but a series of clicks and chirps propagated through the mass of legs and claws, and I saw the entire thing shift, like a school of fish. The ones in the rear reversed direction, and it wouldn¡¯t take long before we were overwhelmed.

    I sent out a handful of cards with as much force as I could muster, bowling over a half-dozen of the little creeps not unlike the adventurer mage with his blasting wand. Unfortunately, unlike the wand, it didn¡¯t tear the things to shreds. It just stunned them. Annalisa swatted a pair of leapers out of the air, and roundhouse kicked another against the wall with her heel. But the numbers arrayed against us increased every moment.

    I pulled out the two of dragons. ¡°Work, damn you!¡± I muttered, feeding my will into the card. It glowed and warmed and did nothing else. What good was a dragon-fire card that made no fire?

    ¡°Darcent!¡± shouted Annalisa. One of the leaping crusties managed to latch onto her arm and clamp its claws down. If she hadn¡¯t been hardened by the plane of obsidian, the thing would have cut straight to the bone. As it was, she cried out, swatting at the little beastie, but lacked the leverage to hit hard enough to crack its shell.

    The adventurers across the gallery from us weren¡¯t faring much better. The spearman cut crustie after crustie from the air with measured sweeps and thrusts, but they would soon be overwhelmed. His partner stepped forward, pressing the fingers on his left hand to his own chest. They glowed blue, and when the man breathed out, a cone of frost shot from his lips that froze a dozen of the little beasties solid.

    I widened my eyes. Of course. I felt like such an idiot.

    The dragons readily agreed.

 Chapter 67 - The Fire of Dragons

    Chapter 67 - The Fire of Dragons

    Fire wasn¡¯t in the card. It was in the dragons. The mountains had given it to them at the dawn of time. Did I have the greed of dragons? Sure. Did I have their rage and their anger? In spades. Did I have their fire? The card in my hand blazed white-hot as my answer. I took a deep breath, held the back of the card to my lips, and blew.

    A cone of flame erupted out the face of the card, sweeping forward and broiling the little crusties in their own shells. The swarm flinched away, squealing, as the hard shells of the little crustaceans began to burst apart beneath the intense heat. There was no stopping to feast on the guts of their buddies this time. I took a deep breath and blew again. The fire was so hot I worried it would singe my eyebrows off, but I swept a wide arc clear around us and the crusties that had been trying to munch on Annalisa dropped off and scuttled away from the heat.

    My throat burned as I blew a third time, the card siphoning something from my lungs along with my will to fuel its fire. My last breath turned into a sputtering cough that shot wet sparks and dark smoke from the card and I gasped for air. ¡°Anna!¡± I rasped. Gods, that had taken it out of me. Luckily, the crusties didn¡¯t seem to notice that I was out of juice and were in a full retreat down the tunnel. The remains of the dozens I¡¯d flash-broiled hissed and smoked on the cavern floor.

    Annalisa came over to me as I hacked and coughed, helping me straighten.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I whispered. My voice was hoarse and tortured, throat burning with every choking breath.

    ¡°Some set of pipes you¡¯ve got on you, though I do have to wonder why you didn¡¯t open with that,¡± said the adventurer mage, ambling over. He was a gold-skinned devilborn about a hand-and-a-half taller than myself. He stopped and grinned when he saw the card in my hand. ¡°Gotta say, I¡¯ve never seen a Soul Seeker do that.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t expect to see it again any time soon,¡± I rasped. It had taken more than a bit out of me.

    The devilborn offered me his wrist, and I clasped it. His guild badge gleamed blue with veins of orange. Rank 5, then.

    ¡°Cellithea. Celli, should you prefer something smaller. That sad-sack of muscle over there is Vollian,¡± he said, jerking his thumb toward his partner.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a sad-sack,¡± mumbled Vollian, scowling. I noticed he was quite muscled, though. He handled his spear with practiced ease. Now that was a practical weapon for fighting monsters.

    ¡°I¡¯m Stitcher, this is Frost,¡± I said, straightening. ¡°Thanks for the assist.¡±

    ¡°Always happy to help a fellow guildie in need,¡± he said, nodding toward Annalisa¡¯s badge. ¡°All sorts of nasties are crawling up from the west side. Sea tunnels popping up faster than we can plug them. You lose your badge, Stitcher?¡±

    I lifted the lapel on my cloak to reveal the rank 4 true-iron badge. The description had switched yet again, this time to fire-throated warbler. Now I¡¯m sure that wasn¡¯t a real designation. Hells, I¡¯m pretty sure it was a species of bird.

    The spearman, Vollian, wandered over along with the three pistoliers. I nodded my chin at the drakkyn trio. ¡°What¡¯s their deal?¡±

    ¡°Not the faintest,¡± said Vollian. He frowned. ¡°Their translator got ¡®et up more¡¯n a day past. Dwarf fellow.¡±

    ¡°Along with their fourth member. If they speak a language on the Bastard, we¡¯ve yet to savvy out what it is, yeah?¡± said Cellithea. ¡°We¡¯re taking them back to the surface. You¡¯re welcome to join us, should you wish to avail yourself of sunlight.¡±

    The card above his head showed the warlord arcana, inverted. Bloodthirsty, exploitive. His partner had the planes, also inverted. Unexpected danger, wrong turns.

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    Well, they¡¯d certainly wandered into some unexpected danger. But I didn¡¯t trust the mage a single solitary iota. Overfriendly adventurers aren¡¯t exactly good news as a wanted man¡ªnor as a disadvantaged kindred spirit. There were no laws in the undercity. No patrols, no authority except the sword. An adventurer on the wrong day is as dangerous as any monster.

    I had to project confidence. I stilled another set of coughs. ¡°We¡¯re good. Headed down, still.¡±

    The devilborn shrugged. ¡°Suit yourself. Take care moving west.¡± he pointed at the charred remains. ¡°You mind?¡±

    I waved him on, and he picked up the still-steaming corpse of one of the creatures before snapping off its right claw and stuffing it in his bag. Vollian was doing the same. The guild must have had a standing reward on crusties. Too bad we couldn¡¯t cash in. I shimmied back up the column and onto the shelf to drop our packs to Annalisa, and we took a moment to consult the charts. Celli came over to look over our shoulder. It would have been suspicious to close up the maps, so I let him look.

    ¡°What¡¯s there?¡± he asked, gesturing to the marked spots. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me, of course. I understand wanting to keep your loot spots safe.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s monster dung,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re on a fertilizer run. Two cunnings a pound, and there¡¯s more¡¯n we can carry out, I¡¯m sure.

    Celli wrinkled his nose. ¡°Hear that, Vollian? They¡¯re picking up poop. Glad we found ¡®em on the way down, not the way up, yeah?¡± he pinched his nose and shook his head. ¡°Some jobs, I tell you. Good luck with your leavings.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with your drakkyn,¡± I said.

    I waited until Celli and Vollian left, pistoliers in tow, before following Annalisa down a passage leading north, hopefully toward our target. An hour later without incident, we were able to find a recognizable landmark marked on the delving chart and used it to orient ourselves. We passed a trio of bronzers led by a pig-iron heading back up as well, but we hid ourselves as they passed. They had blood on the front of their armor, and one had his arm bound to his side. they were so exhausted that they barely even looked around. These guys would have been toast if they¡¯d run into the little crusties.

    Annalisa walked ahead of me most of the way, since she was both tougher, and could read the charts. But she dropped back to me as we were about to descend another level.

    ¡°Darcent, why did you give those two fake names?¡±

    I glanced over at her. ¡°Does it bother you that I lied to them?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No. It¡¯s actually kind of exciting, like we¡¯re on a secret mission or something.¡±

    ¡°We are on a secret mission, Annalisa. But since you asked, they weren¡¯t trustworthy.¡±

    Annalisa tapped the front of her forehead where the precipice arcana burned. I nodded. She pursed her lips. ¡°It¡¯s not fair that you get to just know when someone is a jerk, or a cheat, or about to lose a fight. Other people have to go through life in the dark about that sort of thing.

    I pulled out my deck and rifled through it. ¡°Comes with being a seer. Also¡­¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure how to phrase my next statement. ¡°Not all devilborn are as trustworthy as you.¡±

    Annalisa stopped and looked at me. I thought she might get upset, but instead, she grinned. ¡°No devilborn is as trustworthy as me! I¡¯m the most trustworthy woman in Dragonmaw.¡±

    I chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± I said. And then I considered it. ¡°Huh. I think you might actually be. But that says more about Dragonmaw than it does about you.¡±

    ¡°It does not!¡± Annalisa protested, grinding her foot into the tunnel floor. She stomped ahead in a huff for a few seconds, and then turned back. ¡°Just because the city is full of thieves, cheats, and tail perverts doesn¡¯t diminish my virtues!¡±

    I winced. ¡°Anna, I told you that tail thing was a misunderstanding.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about you.¡±

    She clearly was. But not only was Annalisa the most trustworthy woman in Dragonmaw, she might also claim the title of the most stubborn woman in Dragonmaw. And that¡¯s quite a feat when the city has almost seven thousand dwarves. I changed the subject, instead.

    ¡°We must be getting close to the next stepdown, right?¡± I asked. It felt like we¡¯d been walking for hours. Traversing the tunnels wasn¡¯t like walking the streets. The claustrophobic gantries and wide-open galleries that comprised the top levels of the undercity were treacherous places¡ªeven absent the large monsters that roamed the lower stretches. Besides the crusties, the only monsters we¡¯d seen were small, maybe a threat to a bronzer with a hangover, but not enough to threaten us.

    ¡°According to Alondalis¡¯ notes, we should drop down in a few hundred yards, then we¡¯ll follow a long, thick masonry wall south that runs down to the first marked spot.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the wall to?¡±

    Annalisa twisted the map. ¡°It doesn¡¯t say. But whatever it is, there¡¯s quite a void on the other side. We could check it out. I bet if you give me the dragon juice I can tunnel us through it without passing out this time.¡±

    Something about that idea resonated with the knaves in my deck. I suppose nothing pleases them more than trying to sneak into places others had worked very hard to keep them out of.

    ¡°Sure, but quick-like. We¡¯ve got a plan, and we should stick to it.¡±

 Chapter 68 - A Steaming Pile

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 Chapter 69 - Smot

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 Chapter 70 - No Good Deed

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 Chapter 71 - How to Make Friends and Influence Monsters

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 Chapter 72 â€“ A Jaunt Across the Planes

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 Chapter 73 - Fun with Elven Ruins

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 Chapter 75 â€“ Overdue Books

    Chapter 75 ¨C Overdue Books

    Several hours later, I had a collection of four books and six scrolls in my new bag (which, as it happens, was also much nicer than my old bag). I couldn¡¯t read any of them, but the Wills convinced me they were valuable, and that at least two pertained to prophecies relevant to the fel witch and her downfall. I scrutinized each of them with the four of knaves that gave me at least general impressions. One was a book with the wane dragons on the cover filled with diagrams of prophetic star-signs and presumably their adjoining meanings. Another was a prediction of destructive calamities (most of which likely already happened), the third was a guide to advanced arcana that I couldn¡¯t actually cast, and the last was a reference to something called, as far as I could tell, the Law of the Deep, which had illustrations that closely matched descriptions of some of Bethane¡¯s horrors.

    I took a break to nap for a few hours and regain my strength, only to be woken once by Annalisa shadowboxing nearby with little Hff Hff breaths as she jabbed invisible enemies, and once when she opened a can of tinned rations by banging it against the banister, despite the perfectly good can opener in the bag that she¡¯d seen me using. She looked at me with innocent eyes. ¡°Water level is rising,¡± she said.

    I peered over the edge, and sure enough if was almost a hand¡¯s span deep. ¡°Must be coming in from somewhere new.¡±

    Bang, bang, bang

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s our fault?¡±

    I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. ¡°When is it not?¡±

    When I awoke naturally, ready to continue, the devilborn had once again made herself scarce. How big was this complex that she was still exploring it? No matter. I set to task on my own breakfast of tinned fish and some biscuits. Eating out of a can wasn¡¯t exactly fun, either. It somehow managed to be even less palatable than Jacco¡¯s cooking at the Mop n¡¯ Bucket. I washed it down with the last of the Ivory Red and pulled out my deck.

    I thumbed through the books again as I considered what to ask the Wills next. But was surprised by the voice of Annalisa in my mind.

    ¡°Darcent! I found the sea!¡±

    I stopped. I held out two fingers and the four of knaves snapped to them. ¡°You found what?¡±

    ¡°The sea! It¡¯s how the water¡¯s getting in. There¡¯s a pool down here near the armory and I¡¯m pretty sure it connects to the open ocean through a tunnel. There¡¯s fish in it.¡±

    ¡°Dragons above, you didn¡¯t try to swim it, did you?¡±

    Annalisa sent a pulse of annoyance through the link. ¡°I¡¯m too heavy to swim. Besides, there¡¯s someone else here.¡±

    A chill ran down my spine. Celethia had said several new sea accesses had been opening up, and adventurers were trying to plug them just as fast. I snapped the book shut, stuffing it back in my bag. ¡°What?¡±

    Annalisa sent me a mental image. It was different from the one Mithra had sent me back at the Mop. Instead of an entire mental painting in sharp detail, most of it was fuzzy around the edges, or warped where her limited attention struggled to fill in details. But there was enough to get the point across. In a different part of the college, the dust had been disturbed by repeated transits. Bare humanoid feet with wide, webbed toes, long, sinewy tracks, and deep impact points cut trails through the dust.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to try to get a peek for you.¡±

    ¡°No! Annalisa, get back here. We¡¯re leaving. Right now.¡±

    No response came through the link. I pulled out our two remaining spell scrolls, verifying the enchantments were still good before stuffing them under my jerkin.

    ¡°Anna!¡±

    ¡°Umm¡­ bit of a problem, boss.¡±

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    I stopped as the walls rumbled and fresh dust fell down from the ceiling.

    ¡°They¡¯ve got a mage with them.¡±

    No, no, no. This was not happening. A bastion of ancient Soul Seeker secrets, and someone else managed to find it less than a day after us! I cursed myself and the cards. All those readings, and I hadn¡¯t ever thought to ask if we were actually safe. Those tunnels weren¡¯t accidents, they were looking for something. Fates portend! The ill luck of this!

    Or, you beat them to their goal by mere hours, a little voice countered.

    It wasn¡¯t my own thoughts. That voice had come from the dragons in my deck, as clear and concise as if someone had stood at my side and whispered it into my ear. Framed like that, it seemed the gods had perhaps done us a boon. Not that I¡¯m about to start thanking the Loom Mistress for her twisted weavings. I growled, stuffing the rest of the supplies in the bag. Maybe I wasn¡¯t ready to give this place up without a fight, anymore. But that didn¡¯t mean we shouldn¡¯t have our exit strategy ready. I shouldered the pack and then stopped. I had no idea where Annalisa had gone. I said as much through the four of knaves.

    Her response was to send me an incomprehensible mental map tracking her progress that I immediately forgot the instant the image faded. But it told me two things: that Annalisa was somewhere west of me, and Annalisa had a good idea of where she was and how to get back. Thank the gods for her cartographer father.

    Another blast shook the balcony, and the glow of the ceiling fresco dimmed for a moment. That one was closer. I headed to the west end of the wing. I knew from my own brief explorations which of the fourteen doors in the wing led to private study chambers or ancient privies, and which ones led away into the rest of the college. I cursed to myself. We should have taken measures to secure this place¡ªset wards. Learned wards, even. If we made it out of here, I resolved to learn to make some traps with actual bite. The towers in my deck agreed.

    I was about to open the door leading to the spiral stairs when it slammed open. Two Mayazians stared at me, wide-eyed and mouths open. They were bare-chested, covered in their ritual scars with the symbols that twisted the eye. Even without their greatcoats and tall hats, I¡¯d recognize them anywhere. I called the five of knaves to rob their alacrity, and then I was between them, slashing left and right with the Mayazian knife that I¡¯d taken off their pal in the middle city arena. Red blood spread over sallow, white meat, and the two sharks dropped.

    I turned at movement, blade ready, and Annalisa almost bowled me over and dashed past me.

    ¡°DARCENTSHESGOTAKNIFETHATGOESAROUNDCORNERSHELP!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, just as a hint of silver flashed by my nose. On instinct and borrowed speed, I reached out and snatched the hilt of a dagger that was flying through the air towards Annalisa. I didn¡¯t even have time to register what a dangerous and insanely unbelievable move I¡¯d just managed before the blade yanked me off my feet and dragged me across the hard, dusty floor of the library.

    ¡°Woah!¡± I said, dropping the Mayazian knife and wrapping my other hand around the hilt. It fought me, jerking toward Annalisa, who turned and watched the display, more incredulous than afraid.

    ¡°Did you just catch that?¡±

    The knife careened left and right, trying to break free of my grip like a fish on a line. Its struggles brought us close to one of the shelves, and I wrenched it around, burying the tip in the old, rotted wood and holding it pressed to the planks. After a moment, it stopped struggling and stilled in my hand. I got a moment to examine it, and it was a masterwork double-sided dagger with a nautical motif, an acid-etched tentacle pattern on the blade, and a handle cast to resemble a cuttlefish with a large, closed eye on the cross-guard. Clearly magical. But who would use such a¡­

    ¡°I¡¯ll have that back now,¡± said a feminine voice.

    I looked up, and immediately wished I hadn¡¯t.

    Two Bitterdeep lamias flanked a¡ªwell, I think she used to be a woman. Now she was half something else. Something deep. Coral-like growths covered the right half of her face, and underneath on the side of her neck, a second, beaked mouth sprouted next to a pair of wiggling tentacles. Behind her, a familiar figure stood: the Mayazian adventurer we¡¯d dropped through the floor at the middle city. He stepped forward and drew his sword as I scrambled back to my feet beside Annalisa. A shark grin split his face when he spotted me.

    ¡°Bitterdepths. That¡¯s the crust-damned Barrowdown kid, Maza.¡±

    The witch, Maza, tilted her head at me. ¡°Mother wants him alive, yes, Darza?¡±

    ¡°If convenient,¡± said Darza, grinning even wider, if that were possible. I¡¯m sure he¡¯d been relishing the idea of balancing the score after we cost the Mayaz the fight in the middle city. ¡°On my truth: the one thing this kid ain¡¯t, is convenient.¡±

    ¡°You have no idea,¡± I said, flipping the cuttlefish dagger in my hand. It had a good weight and balance to it, and the light of the fresco glinted off a keen edge that already swam with an inky, killing intent. ¡°This thing would look good in a shark-skin sheathe.¡±

    Maza scowled and worked her hands in a fluid arcane gesture. ¡°Boys. Your petty vendettas don¡¯t concern me. We came with purpose, Darza. Remember it. Leave them to the appetites of the abyss.¡±

    I thought that threat a metaphor until Darza stepped to the side. A hulking form forced its way through the doors behind him, uncurling into a crusted mass of spines, pincers, and needle-pointed legs. Small eyes at the end of short stalks glared at us from under a horned hood of bony shell. It chirped at us and snapped claws longer than my arm.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Annalisa. ¡°Biiiig crusty.¡±

 Chapter 76 â€“ Maza and Darza

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 Chapter 77 - The Dragonâ€™s Daughter

    Chapter 77 - The Dragon¡¯s Daughter

    A dragon¡¯s attention regards but two things: wealth to be acquired, and rivals from which to protect it. I¡¯ve made my life¡¯s work a study of these noble creatures.

    -Lord Vesim - Dragon Naturalist, deceased (presumed eaten by dragons)

    Time slowed. Or, perhaps I was pulled out of its natural flow. The library around me became a shade of its former self, darkened and ephemeral. Flames danced in slow waves as water from Maza¡¯s spray fell upon the burning books.

    The only thing not dimmed was the fresco of the wane dragons, weaving up and down the hall of the lost elven academy. Annalisa stood at my left, frozen, her face a picture of determination. She tried to protect me, though as I stood, her eyes simply stared past me, unseeing, unable to perceive this moment separated from time. I reached out to her, and my hand passed through, as if she were made of smoke, herself.

    ¡°If you¡¯re quite finished,¡± said a voice behind me.

    I jumped, startled, and turned to regard the strange woman before me. She was tall, red of hair and with white gold caps on the tips of her ears. White gold horns pushed out of her hair, as well. The soft impression of scales marked both her cheeks beneath slit, amethyst eyes, and across her throat above a necklace of silver discs. I worried she was another of the Mayazian agents and reached for my knife, but her eyes flashed and the back of my hand burned. I yelped and rubbed the back of it, where a red welt stood out against the skin.

    ¡°None of that, now,¡± the woman blew out a cloud of smoke from a hand-rolled cigarette. I coughed at the harsh, spicy smoke. ¡°You called me here.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The woman held out a finger, and against my will, a single card shot out of the deck and between her black laquered nails. She twisted it to show me the face. Heiress of dragons.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ the heiress?¡± I asked.

    She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and examined her nails, which were filed to points. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. It¡¯s so pastiche, like I¡¯m defined only by what came before. No, no. Hmm¡­ Recently, I¡¯ve taken to being called Lady Arkelai. You may use that name.¡±

    ¡°Lady,¡± I said. ¡°I thought I couldn¡¯t call a suit master until I¡¯d mastered a suit,¡± I said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that one of the rules of the Deck of Wills?¡±

    Arkelai quirked her eyebrow at me. ¡°Because you¡¯re such a stickler for rules, are you?¡±

    ¡°Well, when you put it that way,¡± I said. ¡°I suppose dragons aren¡¯t, either.¡±

    ¡°Not so much,¡± she said, walking over to Darza and the big crustie. She was taller than the shark, and almost as tall as the monster. ¡°Quite the unfortunate situation you¡¯ve found yourself in here. Outnumbered. Outmatched. Arguably outwitted.

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    ¡°Are you going to fight them for me?¡±

    She looked back, half smiling. ¡°I¡¯m not a hound to be let off the leash, child. I didn¡¯t come to fight your petty battles for you.¡±

    I scowled. What good were the suit masters if they could do nothing for me? The court of knaves refused my call, the heiress didn¡¯t want to dirty her nails. ¡°So why did you come?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯ve found yourself a treasure, which you¡¯re about to lose. Because you¡¯re something of an investment, and I protect my investments. And because I want to see how much of my father¡¯s spirit is in you.¡±

    ¡°Your father?¡±

    Lady Arkelai held her hand out toward my deck and the cards stacked themselves neatly in her hand. She sorted through them until she found one, and handed it to me. The arcana, Alkazarian. Lord of all dragons. Power, fire, innate strength, but also destruction, material greed, unhealthy appetites. I looked at the card. She let the rest of the cards fall from her hand, and I called them back to make my deck complete.

    ¡°He¡¯s had his eye on you for some time, you know,¡± said Lady Arkelai, pushing herself up to sit on the banister. ¡°Very vexed that another suit won you first. Since he wasn¡¯t willing to let you slip away, we decided to¡­¡± she weaved her hand back and forth as though looking for the words. ¡°Bend some rules. Take a page out of the court¡¯s book, as it were. Besides, humans often struggle with the form of dragons. Too attached to¡­¡± she fluttered her fingers at me with a vague look meeting somewhere between disdain and disgust. ¡°this.¡±

    I looked down at my body. ¡°Well I¡¯m certainly attached to it in that I don¡¯t want it cut in half with an acid sword.¡±

    ¡°Quite.¡± She tapped a finger on her chin. ¡°Now. Tell me about this treasure you¡¯ve found.¡±

    I gestured around me. ¡°This library. It¡¯s been lost for generations. No one even knew it existed, and now I¡¯m in a fight for my life over it.¡±

    ¡°Valuable?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Books of magic, prophecy, and closely held knowledge. Secrets from lost ages written by right bastards. Secrets about me. Exploiting this place¡­ Well, it would make me a highlord of Dragonmaw, at the very least. The kind of power that would mean no one could push me or Annalisa around. Ever.¡±

    I pointed to the Mayazians. ¡°But these fuckers right here. They¡¯re some sort of abyssal death cult following the footsteps of a dark witch who somehow roped me into all this and possibly tainted me with her blood. If they get ahold of this stuff, they¡¯ll use it to become powerful and probably kill lots of people.¡±

    Arkelai pursed her lips and said in a mocking tone: ¡°Oh, Darcent.¡± she laughed. ¡°We both know you don¡¯t care if they hurt other people, do you? Not really, anyway.¡±

    I considered it. ¡°No. Not unless those people owed me money.¡±

    Arkelai laughed. ¡°That¡¯s not what concerns you, is it?¡±

    I shook my head. I felt the other dragons in my deck start to stir. ¡°No. This place? I want it. I don¡¯t want to lose it. More than that, I don¡¯t want them to have it.¡±

    The dragon¡¯s heiress fixed her eyes on me, and I got the feeling they were looking deeper than just my flesh. I thought about the four of dragons, the greed.

    ¡°You would fight to keep it?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said.

    Her smile widened. ¡°You would kill to hold it in your clutches, and yours alone?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes,¡± I said. The spicy smoke was starting to make my head feel fuzzy. My tongue ran freely. ¡°I would carve a chasm through Dragonmaw.¡±

    She leaned forward. ¡°Would you burn it all to the ground before you let someone else have it?¡±

    ¡°Every last page,¡± I whispered. ¡°Down to the foundations.¡± It was true. In the very base of my core, it was true. This priceless lost knowledge. A king¡¯s ransom in secrets and forbidden techniques and prophecy. And I would destroy every last word if it kept it from the salty hands of Mother Mayaz and her abyssal allies. The dragons in my deck roared, and Arkelai¡¯s smile turned into a cruel grin.

    ¡°Perhaps my father chose well, this time.¡± she pushed off the banister and came to stand before me. ¡°Very well, Darcent of Stitch Alley. Come, then. Let¡¯s be dragons.¡±

 Chapter 78 - No Smoking in the Library

    Chapter 78 - No Smoking in the Library

    Time returned, and Darza¡¯s blade fell, only to meet the outstretched palm of Lady Arkelai, fully in the flesh in our world. She towered over the Mayazian brute by a head and a half¡ªlarger than she¡¯d seemed. Her horns shined almost painfully white under the light of the dragon fresco. Rather than cutting her, the sword stopped cold with a ring of steel on stone. He jumped back, trying to wrench it from her hand, but she tightened her fingers and held firm. A red glare spread from her grip along the blade, and the top third warped and bent as though melted in a furnace. She let the blade go, and Darza pulled back the ruined magic sword, staring at the end which had been twisted back to point at the cross guard.

    ¡°Who the blood-gutted hell are you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Darcent, who is that?¡± said Annalisa. ¡°Her horns are so shiny! How did she get them so shiny?¡±

    Arkelai turned. ¡°Ah yes, the partner.¡±

    ¡°Your horns are soooo pretty!¡± said Annalisa.

    Arkelai smiled at Anna and swept her hair away to expose more of the white-gold horns. ¡°Thank you,¡± then to me, ¡°Take good care of that one. She reminds me of my youngest sister.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ what happens now?¡± I asked.

    Rather than answering, Lady Arkelai opened her palm that had held the sword. A spark danced across her skin, violent and vibrating with barely contained energy. Her eyes flashed, and I got that sense of having my depths pierced again. ¡°It¡¯s been charming, child. But greed will only get you so far. It¡¯s about time you employed that scroll beneath your shirt, don¡¯t you think?¡± The spark began to shift in hue from a deep orange to a white-hot sunburst that hurt to look at. And then Lady Arkelai turned her hand over and let it fall. As quick as she had appeared¡ªbefore her spark even hit the floor¡ªthe dragon heiress was gone again.

    Rather than snuffing itself out on the stones, it flared up and beams of heat speared out in every direction with a shur-whush sound. I don¡¯t know how else to describe it. One of them blasted Darza back off his feet. He shouted, more in anger than in pain, I think. That coat of his really was something else. I ducked another beam that passed within inches of my cheek. It felt like pressing my face to a searing bank of coals. Where those beams landed, raging fires spread through the library, taking root in the old, dry books and piles of dusty scrolls. The witch, Maza, looked frantically between the flames and her own efforts to quell the comparatively meager blaze Annalisa and I had started. Hopeless. She quickly reached the same conclusion I did. The witch stopped trying to fight the flames and began grabbing books off the shelves at random.

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    ¡°Time to go!¡± I shouted. The library was getting hotter by the minute. Annalisa stared at the destruction, eyes wide and jaw hanging slack. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close as I slipped the scroll from my jerkin and pressed my thumb to the rune. A power began to pull at me. ¡°Hold on!¡± I shouted over the roaring flame. Annalisa wrapped muscled arms around my midsection, squeezing so tight I thought she might break me right in half. A flash of motion on the left caught my eye amid the flames. The animated knife had worked its way free, and it shot toward me. I held out my hand and it slapped into my palm, eye once again closing as whatever creature possessed it returned to its slumber.

    Across the hall, the Mayazians were in full retreat. Maza channeled everything she had into a shield spell that held the worst of the flames off, while Darza had actually doffed his coat and used it to shield the smaller mage, even as the burned and blistered shark trundled them both back toward the ocean tunnel. The big crustie rampaged, on fire and out of control, until its eyes fixed on us. It was smart enough to assign blame, apparently, because I swear, those lidless eyes still somehow narrowed, and it made a beeline for us with claws raised, shattering bookshelves and heedless of the spreading conflagration.

    He got close enough for me to smell the surprisingly appetizing scent of cooking crab meat before the translocation spell took hold, and Annalisa and I found ourselves jerked upward so fast it pulled me straight out of my shoes. Rather than colliding with the ceiling, we flashed through a startled nest of trolls, then up again to a pitch-black chamber that smelled like low tide at Oildown. Then through luminescent halls built by dwarves, then through a crowded scullery of surprised-looking washwomen, then a bed chamber with a handful of startled people in gold-colored masks and nothing else, and finally, to a rooftop overlooking the western half of the middle city.

    My head swam with the after-effects of the rapid teleportation scroll. Celithia and Volian had probably paid upwards of forty to fifty cunnings for that piece of parchment. And now it sad dull and useless in my hands. I let it fall to the rooftop.

    ¡°Woah! I guess we ran out of up. I feel like I drank a gallon of bad lager,¡± said Annalisa, hand on her forehead. Her tail swam drunkenly through the air. She pointed down. ¡°Darcent, look!¡±

    fire smoke was billowing out of sewer accesses across the street. I looked further. More was coming out of a cracked row of cobbles, and yet more wisps were starting to drift up from a street on our other side. I guess it had found its way out of the library. Gods, all that knowledge, all those books. Gone. I shrugged out of my pack and unclasped it, looking at the few volumes I¡¯d managed to spirit out of the Soul Seeker wing. I had to hope the answers I sought were these tomes. And I had to figure out how to turn them to my advantage in the days to come.

    I grinned, closing the bag and fingering the broach, the amulet, and the blade possessed. All things considered, our trip to the undercity had been more successful than I could have dreamed. We¡¯d had to dig through shit, true. But we¡¯d found magic items. We¡¯d outsmarted professional delvers, and we¡¯d spit in the eye of our Hollowdown neighbors for a third time. When Mother Mayaz¡¯ goons came knocking again, they¡¯d find us more prepared than ever before.

    When I was through with her empire, it would make the Soul Seeker library look like a campfire.

    End of Arc 5

 Chapter 79 - Interlude V

    Interlude V

    Annalisa¡¯s Guide to the Deck of Wills

    Having mentioned my partner in many of my letters, I have been neglectful in explaining the details of his fortune magic, with which I have become quite familiar. I daresay I could teach a proper class on them at the school what sits on top of the hill where the students all wear dresses.

    The short primer is as follows: the Deck of Wits is divided into suits and non-suited cards who did not fit neatly into with the others. Perhaps the unsuitable cards are ill-tempered to get along with the rest, or perhaps they are too big for properly tailored suits, but I have met a dragon and she was unexpectedly well-mannered and fashionable. Darcent seems to have trouble reaching them, and mainly uses four of what he calls ¡®inverted suits¡¯, though he¡¯s been right-side up all but one time when I¡¯ve seen him use them.

    There are ten of these card clubs, each beholden to a leader of their own. Lances, Towers, Dragons, Petals, Streams, Knaves, Storms Peaks, Demons, and Ways. My partner can use any of these cards to draw fortunes from the deck, which is how I know I¡¯ll win fights before the first blow is struck. He insists that these cards can¡¯t see the future, but anyone can see the future if they simply look down the road they¡¯re walking on and decide if they¡¯re going into the bakery or the pub. I don¡¯t see why cards should be any different if the deck knows which cards will be flipped before the question is asked. It would be simpler to just look ahead, I imagine. But that would damage the ¡®mystique¡¯ my partner has used to enshroud himself.

    From some of these cards, a Soul Seeker can draw power. But only once they reveal truths about themselves to bond with more cards, and only with up to four of the suitable cards.

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    My partner has bound himself to four of the suits of Wits: the Knaves, Dragons, Towers, and Storms which I¡¯m given to understand from Mithra are closely associated with skullduggery, greed, aloofishness, and anal retentive tendencies. This seems apt, so I have no reason to doubt her wisdom. It is fortunate that I am the face of most of our dealings, because he does not come across as the trust-worthy type and you must dig deep¡ªvery deep¡ªto recognize his merits upon first meeting.

    Of the suit of Kaves, my partner has mastered four of the spells. He can make blades extremely sharp, but brittle. He can create a living shadow of himself that takes true form and moves independently. He can speak across distances in the same way that the plane-touched do, and he can abscond with the alacrity of others.

    Of the suit of Dragons, my partner can summon a gout of flame from his mouth, provide me with a dragon juice that grants me a portion of his own power, sense the true value of items, and summon a nice horned lady that commits arson and has implied that my partner ought be able to change his form (though he does not seem over-weight to me).

    Regarding the suit of Towers, things become slightly more confusing. He can make skin as hard as stone, but another card helped him to read a book (perhaps much reading is done in towers?) and after that he could draw magic graffiti.

    Lastly, the suit of storms can be used to stuff spells back into wands, with disastrous results for the holder of said wand¡ªas I witnessed upon meeting a helpful wildkin in Kindledown who has since helped us with our exploration of the undercity.

    He can also move cards with his mind and spin them like the fans some of the girls at the Mop dance with. He once used this to blow a great deal of toxic air away, but it attracted the attention of a monster most foul, so I have doubts as to its application. A card thrown with much force might embed itself into an unfortunate thug, and can be called back to the rest of the deck like a well-trained dog, which has confounded many a foe in our adventures. We have acquired the badges of adventurers, but even they do not know what to make of my companion or I. I have taken matters into my own hands on that front, so that my badge reminds me of the heights of which I intend to climb with my partner¡¯s help.

    With much Love,

    Annalisa of Dunnemarsh

 Chapter 80 - About a Book

    Arc VI - Truthkeepers

    Chapter 80 - About a Book

    To say we were happy to be out of the undercity was something of an understatement. I felt like a fish moments from the frypan who slips out of a window back into the sea.

    Sure, we¡¯d lost a priceless library full of treasured books, but I¡¯ve never been much for books. And sure, we burned our clothes and spent the next week recovering and taking bath after bath to get the smell off our skin, but I needed new threads anyway.

    And sure, the low-laying cloud of smoke that choked the city from Barrowdown to the Skylark Terraces was our fault. And sure, Miss Trundi was absolutely certain we¡¯d had something to do with it. But it¡¯s not like she could prove anything. All that smoke seemed to drift up from cracks all over the middle and lower city. And while shit rolls down hill, smoke blows up, and for once the nobles were walking around with perfumed kerchiefs stuffed up their noses just like those of us in the lower city when the heavy rains cause the sewers to backflow.

    Undercity charters were already adjusting routes through the undercity because the smoke had made some paths accessible and forced new monsters into areas they¡¯d never been seen before. Not the impact I¡¯d planned to have. That library would smolder for weeks, if not months. All that meant adventurers were spending coin on things besides delving equipment, which meant drinks, fights, and fine company. The Mop was busier than ever, and bets rolled out, collections rolled in, and for once, everyone was too busy to kill us.

    For a while, I was able to simply fix a few fights (including two more for Annalisa that surprisingly passed without a catastrophe) and do a few readings, making sure the Barrow Knave was visible in the downs, and not suspiciously absent in the forty-eight hour period prior to the entire city getting smoked out. Quinnith, my knave-bonded former classmate had also come to see me and I¡¯d brought him into the operation as another fixer. But all things are too good to last, and I had a future to plan for. So, books in hand, I made my way up to Hawkley¡¯s shop on the outskirts of the upper city.

    This time I took Annalisa with me and made the mistake of leaving with her before sunset.

    ¡°Dragons above,¡± I swore, holding my hand against the glare. Annalisa beamed up at me. And I don¡¯t mean she smiled¡ªthough, she did that, too. Ever since I¡¯d summoned the Heiress of Dragons, Annalisa had taken to polishing her horns to a damn-near mirror shine, and she was a menace. People on the street stumbled and crossed to avoid meeting us head on, and I¡¯d heard of at least two ships that had accidentally run aground following a phantom lighthouse conspicuously further east than the one at Sungate.

    If anyone really wanted to track us, all they had to do was follow the sunspot traveling through the downs by the flashes every time the sunset caught her horns.

    ¡°Darcent, if you¡¯re going to have a guard, she obviously has to look at least as strong as whatever otherworldly spirits you invoke.¡±

    ¡°And your takeaway from that encounter was shiny horns?¡± I asked.

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    ¡°Besides that, I think we already looked somewhat similar,¡± said Annalisa, pouting. She brought her tail around and flipped the tip back and forth. ¡°Although, you usually prefer them with a little more rudder in the stern, right?¡±

    I looked down at the devilborn girl through a gap in my fingers. Yes, she and the heiress both had horns. And that was where the similarities ended. Lady Arkelai had been tall, slender, suave, fashionable, and with an alien beauty that could almost pass for human without those horns.

    Annalisa was, well...

    ¡°Where did you even get something that bright?¡±

    ¡°I just borrowed some of that polish you had on your desk.¡±

    I stopped, hands pressed to my temple. Of course she had used my expensive #2 varnish.

    Annalisa was Annalisa. She was not any of those words that you could use to describe the heiress. But you could never tell her that. The short, wide-hipped well-muscled button-nosed devilborn had more in common with a blue horned tree frog than she did with the daughter of a legendary dragon. Whatever. If causing middle-city drovers to drive up on the curb of the cobbles and tip their carts over made Annalisa happy? Who was I to stand in the path of her satisfaction. Hell, at least all she needed to win her next fight was limelight pointed in her general direction.

    This time, when we walked into Hawkley¡¯s, the first thing I saw was my own work. Six cast-off cards that I¡¯d blemished, sitting under a blue candleflame that set the mooncap ink alight against the black pine. Annalisa studied them stoicly, hand to her chin and one eye closed.

    ¡°Hmm. Hmm¡­.¡± she shrugged. ¡°I give up. I can¡¯t tell why these ones weren¡¯t good enough.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment,¡± I said. ¡°Timing. mostly. A premature stain that seeped into the wood or dried too quickly to fill a runnel.¡±

    I picked up a card and noticed the price marker for the black fjord pine had been scratched out and marked up twice. I smiled. Hawkley had certainly gotten the better end of that trade.

    ¡°You know, you could probably make a living as an artist or something,¡± said Annalisa. She picked up the lovers arcana from another display stand. ¡°For Madam Peaks, if nowhere else.¡±

    ¡°Just what every artist wants to hear,¡± I said.

    Hawkley chose that moment to bustle out of the back, calling greetings, but stopped when he saw me and smiled nice and wide.

    ¡°Ah, Darcent, lad! I must be blessed, getting you in here more¡¯n once a term. how¡¯s your new deck treating?¡±

    ¡°It fairs,¡± I said, taking the old shopkeep¡¯s wrist. He turned to my partner. ¡°Ye gods, and this one needs no introduction! Annalisa of Dunnemarshe! I saw yer fight last turn.¡± he jabbed twice in the air. ¡°What¡¯re you doing with this lout?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m her pre-fight reader,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°Gotta make scratch somehow. Speaking of, I¡¯ve got a bit of a sensitive sell. Can we talk in the back?¡±

    Hawkley looked askance and glanced at the other patrons in his shop. ¡°This is a reputable store, kid. I¡¯m not taking hot merchandise.¡±

    I waved my hands. ¡°Nothing like that, just something I¡¯d rather keep away from prying eyes. Books I need translated, and maybe a trinket or two I picked up on a delve that could use an appraisal.¡±

    Hawkley tilted his head. ¡°Always thought you had sense enough to keep out of the undercity, young Darcent.¡± he looked at Annalisa. ¡°Did you put him up to this business, young miss?¡±

    ¡°I certainly did!¡± said Annalisa, beaming. ¡°An elf wanted us to collect fertilizer for him but we lost it all in a fight and then we burned down¡ª¡±

    ¡°Burned down the rest of our rations getting back to the surface,¡± I said, hemming and hawing. Annalisa¡¯s brows drew together in confusion and I gave her a look.

    ¡°Right,¡± she said. ¡°We weren¡¯t even near the western middle city, were we?¡±

    Hawkley sputtered and flattened his hands in a voices down kinda gesture as he looked about to make sure no one else had heard. Annalisa¡¯s normal speaking voice tends to not so much worm its way into your ear as simply wrestle your eardrums into a submission. ¡°Maybe just come to the back afore you both have bounties on your heads.¡±

    ¡°Oh, we already do!¡± smiled Annalisa.

 Chapter 81 - Elfworks

    Chapter 81 - Elfworks

    Hawkley pored over the sample pages I¡¯d copied from each of the four books, a crystal lens to his eye, and occasionally peered up at us.

    ¡°Darcent, m¡¯boy¡­ these are in Filigari,¡± he said.

    Filigari was the written language of the Golden elves. Unlike the flowery script of the island and inland elves (no, literally, most of their characters are based on botanicals that makes a page of prose look more like a sketch of the forest floor in autumn), Filigari has one-hundred and forty unique characters and eighteen more with different-sounding duplicates. What I¡¯m trying to say, is that the language is a mess, and nigh comprehensible. Which is probably how the Golds liked it, having a language so complex no lesser race could comprehend it. Probably lent to that smug sense of superiority they all had before the orcs reeducated them. Orcs don¡¯t settle for golden, they prefer their elves blackened, with a side of potatoes and a draught of lager.

    Maybe Annalisa was right about which was better to have around. But I still like Tea.

    Hawkley set one page down and picked up another.

    ¡°Can you read any of that?¡± I asked, genuinely curious.

    ¡°A word here and there,¡± he said, scratching the tip of his nose. ¡°No thanks to your penmanship. Such a skilled artist ought be a defter hand with a quill.¡±

    I scowled. My hand still ached from transcribing the complicated elven lettering. I¡¯d done ten pages from each book, which would be more than enough to determine content and appraisal value. Golden age books did not come cheap. ¡°It¡¯s not like I knew what I was writing.¡±

    ¡°Be easier if you brought me the originals,¡± said Hawkley. ¡°You say they¡¯re in good condition?¡±

    The originals were currently locked in my office safe. ¡°Not a chance. A little dry, but otherwise pristine,¡± I said. ¡°Golden age books in readable condition don¡¯t come cheap, yeah? High theft items.¡±

    The dwarf sighed. ¡°I oughta know. Had two stolen some odd years back. Only things taken in the whole damn store. I¡¯ll show these around¡ªyes, discreetly. No one will know where they came from.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± said Annalisa. She spun on a stool in the back of Hawkley¡¯s store. ¡°Enough about boring old books. What about the good stuff?¡±

    Hawkley picked up the two trinkets and wrinkled his nose. ¡°Why do they smell like a cesspit?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Because there¡¯s not enough cleaning powder in the world to neutralize what we found them in,¡± I confided. Hawkley blanched, but I continued on. ¡°The toothy one has something to do with translating drakkyn. The previous owner was acting as a translator for a squad of pistoliers when he ran afoul of an undercity nasty. The other one? It can¡¯t be divined, and it¡¯s resisted all my attempts to suss its purpose.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a brooch of obfuscation!¡± suggested Anna.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I was quite sure that it was not. Hawkley turned it over in his hands. ¡°I can get it appraised, I know a few identifiers in the upper city. Ten cunnings, but it¡¯ll take some time. Or twenty-five if you want to know this week.¡±

    I sucked air in through my teeth. ¡°Twenty-five? I can¡¯t afford that.¡±

    ¡°Waiting lists,¡± said Hawkley, shrugging. ¡°The Adventurers Guild has most appraisers on retainer. Ten it is. The other? If it¡¯s as you say, I¡¯ll take it off your hands today for forty.¡±

    Annalisa shot me a glare. ¡°That¡¯s a far cry from two-hundred,¡± she said. ¡°You promised me two-hundred.¡±

    ¡°I did no such thing,¡± I pointed out. ¡°I said your ring would have cost us two-hundred. But knowing drakkyn tongue isn¡¯t exactly going to give us the edge in a fight.¡±

    ¡°It will if we¡¯re fighting drakkyn,¡± countered Annalisa.

    I tried to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. Patience and fortitude. Annalisa helped me train them every day. ¡°How about twenty-five, Hawkley¡ªon contingency. Half the difference when you find a buyer.¡±

    The dwarf ran his fingers through his beard. After a moment, he pulled out his coin purse. ¡°Less ten for the badge appraisal¡ª¡°

    ¡°It¡¯s a brooch,¡± insisted Annalisa.

    ¡°¡ªbrooch appraisal, and an interruption tax¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°¡ªthat¡¯d be fourteen from my pocket, aye?¡±

    Hawkley counted out the fourteen pieces of silver and passed them over. Despite what I¡¯d say, I was also not happy at walking out of Hawkley¡¯s with only a handful of cunnings. But I had to be patient. Getting the best return on the time and awfulness we¡¯d invested in the undercity meant finding buyers who could afford high-ticket items and retaining the talent of talented people.

    Annalisa and I bid farewell to the dwarf and made our way back south amid looks from the well to do that didn¡¯t involve Anna¡¯s budding fame. While devilborn weren¡¯t barred from the upper city the way orcs and drakkyn were, they were still seen as unsavory company. Being plane-touched was seen as a curse or a taint. It didn¡¯t help that many devilborn found their way into more clandestine trades, of course.

    Like I was in any position to judge.

    I had no doubt Annalisa noticed the looks. If they affected her, it didn¡¯t show on her face as she walked to my left and slightly behind. She still took her role of my bodyguard seriously. She didn¡¯t deserve the ire of these highborn fops and their parasol-wielding wives. She was worth ten of any person on this street.

    Though, if you were to ask her, it would probably be closer to twenty.

    I stopped when my deck buzzed for my attention. Mithra¡¯s voice entered my head.

    ¡°Trouble, boss, and maybe an opportunity.¡±

    If she was contacting me, it meant she was already fairly close by. My range with the four of knaves had grown, but it was still limited to a mile and a half or so. I pulled Annalisa into an alley while two scandalized ladies looked on.

    My devilborn partner was instantly alert, looking around, but relaxed when she saw me draw the tongue of knaves from my deck. I pressed it to my forehead and sent my will into it while I took Annalisa¡¯s wrist by my other hand so that she could hear as well.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Mithra?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You know that Lucita shrine on the southeast side of the middle city by the old guard barracks?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m familiar,¡± I said, grimacing. I visited the shrine for card games as an academy student. They had a paladin on staff that threatened to turn me inside out if I set foot inside again. I¡¯d been scouting to see if I could make a little coin to help with my studies. And, well, I can¡¯t help it if I had a peek at everyone else¡¯s cards¡ªat least, the ones floating above their heads. Enough to clean house. Unfortunately, ¡®luck¡¯ like that got recognized, and then I got recognized for a seeker, who aren¡¯t exactly welcome in games of chance. And then I got tossed on my ass.

    ¡°Well, the Mayazians just made them an offer. And I don¡¯t think they liked it. They¡¯re taking three bodies to the canal, and one of ¡®em is a shark. The others are wearing shrine colors.¡±

    I rubbed my chin, looking to the southeast. Perhaps with the sharks breathing down their neck, they¡¯d be more amenable to protection. ¡°Thanks, Mithra. I¡¯ll be there later tonight. Make an introduction, if you would.¡±

    ¡°On it. See you soon.¡±

 Chapter 82 - The Grind

    Chapter 82 - The Grind

    We had to stop by the Mop and Bucket before heading back up to the middle city. I wanted my seeker robe and cravat if I was going to approach them as the Barrow Knave.

    I greeted a few familiar faces on the way up to my office. Miss Trundi grouched at me about finding half her girls turned to spies. Mender Bartran I thanked for patching up Annalisa and I after our undercity delve, and of course the card players I left to their own devices. I wouldn¡¯t say I trusted them after they¡¯d extracted the mender, but they¡¯d certainly earned the right to not have their drinks watered down.

    I also spotted Quin, at the bar, and I pulled up a stool next to him. He nodded to me, but almost coughed up half his drink when Annalisa slid into the seat on his other side.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± he said, blushing. Annalisa smiled and batted her eyes. I rolled mine. Wasn¡¯t sure what the highborn Soul Seeker saw in my rough and tumble lower city partner. Whatever it was, Annalisa seemed to be basking in it, doing her best impression of a proper coy lady¡ªthough the effect was somewhat ruined when she guzzled down half an ale in the span of one breath and belched loud enough to shake dust off the ceiling in the next.

    ¡°How¡¯s your reeducation coming?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Still only got the three,¡± said Quinn, ¡°but I¡¯m getting better with petals. Able to combo the knave and make a fighter¡¯s hits harder to see coming.¡± he took a pull on his own drink and shook his head. ¡°All this time, who knew every single fight was fixed?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not all that bad,¡± I said, clapping him on the back. ¡°Most are fixed at both ends, so it¡¯s a match between fighters and a match between fixers. Two for the price of one. They do the same thing in the upper city, just that both fixers are in the ring so they¡¯re fair game for the fighters and fair game for the box office.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true,¡± he said. Then he shrugged.

    ¡°When¡¯s your next fight?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Two days ahead, in Cradledown.¡±

    ¡°Bring your boots,¡± I said, standing. ¡°And careful with Annalisa. She bites.¡±

    Annalisa chomped the air helpfully and then grinned at Quin. He blushed.

    I passed Damen on my way to the stairs, and caught his eye, though I¡¯m not sure if he stared at me or through me. ¡°Stay strong! Looks like relief is on the horizon,¡± I murmured as I passed him.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    He made no indication that he¡¯d heard me. Poor devil. I moved past him and up the stairs to retrieve my robe. A stack of letters sat on my desk, which I perused. I had a number of notes and missives from the Kindledown operations, a query about odds for a fight from Brokier, and even a few scrawls in Mithra¡¯s incomprehensible penmanship that I managed to decipher into dirty limericks. There once was a Drakkyn from Crassport¡­ Fucking hell, I bet she made them extra illegible after I¡¯d told her how tough it was to sort out her scribbles. I tossed the parchment back onto the desk and picked up another.

    The Alinderre Masquerade Theater invites you to to a night of spectacle. Witness a production of the¡­

    A play invitation? I turned it over. Admit two: For the Barrow Knave and the Lady Blue.

    Interesting. Clearly a trap, of course. One of those things where they invite a bunch of lower city criminals to an event and then adventurers round them all up for the bounty. The knavesin my deck echoed my sentiment. I pocketed the invitation and grabbed my robe. It was difficult to picture Annalisa sitting for a play¡ªor sitting still longer than the thirty seconds or so it took her to find the bottom of her drink, for that matter. But perhaps we could turn such a thing to our advantage.

    It was time to go to work.

    By the time I made it back downstairs, Quinn had started doing a reading for Annalisa, and she seemed to really like the results. I had to pull her away as she protested, but the devilborn girl finally fell in beside me and we headed back for the middle city.

    Annalisa was uncharacteristically quiet. If my partner were capable of quiet contemplation, that¡¯s what I¡¯d imagine she was doing. The sun drifted toward the horizon, reflecting painfully bright off Annalisa¡¯s polished horns. And as it dropped beneath the rooftops on the western rise and the glare dimmed enough to face her, I finally asked.

    ¡°What did you ask him to read for you?¡±

    Anna shook herself out of her reverie. ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Quinn, he did a reading for you. What did you ask?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Annalisa said, looking away. She cupped her elbows in her hands. ¡°I asked how my father was getting on.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said. then I paused. ¡°Wait, why did you need a reading for that? Didn¡¯t you say he was in the Cartographer¡¯s guild?¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± she said.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean he¡¯s in the city?¡±

    Annalisa was silent for a moment. We stepped aside to make way for a lamplighter and climbed up the narrow steps to the highest tier of Barrowdown.

    ¡°He¡¯s¡­ very busy. I don¡¯t speak to him much.¡±

    ¡°Is he out on some long survey?¡± I asked.

    Annalisa dropped her hands to her sides and curled them into fists. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about this anymore.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°We don¡¯t gotta.¡±

    I let it go that she¡¯d asked me uncomfortable questions about my own past, which I¡¯d answered to her satisfaction. And gods know I don¡¯t like those sorts of questions, so I couldn¡¯t blame her. No devilborn comes from a happy home. Somehow Annalisa had convinced me she was the exception. With as much as she talked about her family, bragged about the work they did in Dragonmaw, shared details of their lives, and pent herself up writing letters to them in her room, I had assumed they were close. But in the few months I¡¯d been nearly inseparable from Annalisa, I hadn¡¯t seen hide nor hair of any of them. I¡¯d given it little thought, but it certainly bears some.

    I pursed my lips. Some diviner I am.

 Chapter 83 - Seeking Soul Seekers

    Chapter 83 - Seeking Soul Seekers

    For what it¡¯s worth, Annalisa doesn¡¯t have the attention span to maintain awkward silences. It wasn¡¯t long before she was recapping the events of her fight the week before¡ªher first since our undercity delve, as well as her first without me by her side since we¡¯d become partners.

    ¡°You shoulda¡¯ seen it, Darcent!¡± she punched the air. ¡°This guy is the third-ranked fighter in Oildown. Was the third-ranked fighter. They called him Baleen, which is like teeth for whales, but also like a brush. I don¡¯t know why they called him that because his teeth were normal. I got a good look at two of them that I knocked out in the third round.¡± she jumped up and mimed a flying knee. I winced, knowing she¡¯d adopted a strategy of opening an obsidian tunnel behind her opponent before delivering that particular attack.

    ¡°And Quinn was alright in your corner?¡± I asked. We¡¯d had the academy student moonlighting as a fixer, and I wanted him to cut his teeth on a fight I knew Annalisa would only need a little boost for.

    She nodded. ¡°Uh huh. He made my hands all blurry, but he doesn¡¯t have dragon juice like you do. So Baleen still landed a couple hits¡ª¡° she lifted her shirt, gathering scandalized looks, and pointed at two prodigious bruises on the left side of her ribs. ¡°Here, and here,¡± she said, pointing. I reached out and pushed down on the hand holding her shirt. Dragons above, this girl needed to learn some modesty. She continued unabated ¡°But getting better at tunneling has made me even tougher. I got him, too. But right on the liver and he dropped.¡± Annalisa made her tail stand up straight on end, and then angled it down as though it had fallen. She stopped for a moment, eyes drawn together in concentration.

    ¡°How come you weren¡¯t there?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I was making inquiries into some of the things we saw in the undercity,¡± I said. Namely, I¡¯d been in the Middle City Repository looking for any hint or whisper of that elven college. The problem wasn¡¯t that I couldn¡¯t find anything, the problem was that apparently, Golden Elves fucking loved colleges. You¡¯d need more research skill than I had to figure out which one our little jaunt had found. I¡¯d also looked into the friends we¡¯d made. Celithia and Volian had made it out of the undercity, unfortunately. They were making inquiries of their own. But thus far, the wards that hid the Mop and Bucket from eyes that would harm it had worked a charm. I was surprised how much utility I¡¯d gotten out of the basic ward.

    Speaking of wards, I hadn¡¯t been idle on that front, either. I¡¯d spent a significant amount of my effort over the past week getting closer attuned to the three of towers and practicing my ward craft. Barrowdown had been long overdue for a security upgrade, and things had slowed down just enough for me to implement some plans I¡¯d been keeping in my journal. And it seemed that dilligence was none-too-soon.

    I felt the impression of someone¡¯s eyes on my back, thanks to wards of hostile intent buzzed in my mind as we headed north. Someone north of Barrowdown was coming to do us harm. I angled us to the west, and the hostile presence followed. I cursed under my breath. It looked like the shrine would have to wait. I picked up our pace.

    Annalisa knew well enough by now that navigating the winding downs of Dragonmaw was not one of my weak points. So if we were headed away from our destination, then something had compelled me to do so. She took a defensive posture, eyes scanning for threats in the shadows and assassins in dark alleys.

    I shifted us again, southwest this time, along one of the canals. Our unseen pursuers matched us, and I began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I crossed a small footbridge and stopped in the middle of an intersection, on a corner between a baker and a furnisher. We were in a square with good sight lines in all directions, and Annalisa looked at me in question.

    ¡°This is one foe we can¡¯t hide from, Annalisa,¡± I said. I hoped they wouldn¡¯t come at me as a foe, either. But I¡¯ve never been the best at making friends, so I didn¡¯t fancy my odds on that one. Before they closed in, I drew my deck and the strange dagger I¡¯d taken off the Mayazian witch. ¡°Try not to kill any of them, if you can help it,¡± I added.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I never try to kill anyone if I can help it,¡± said Annalisa. ¡°But what¡¯s after us?¡±

    ¡°Inevitability.¡±

    We waited under the light of the wane dragons for four figures to approach from three different streets. The ones to our left and right were armed with weapons¡ªone on my left had a studded pole, and of the two on my right, one swung a chain with a fist-sized iron ball on it while the other twirled a pair of long knives. Annalisa slipped on her own spiked knuckles when she saw the lethal weapons being leveled toward us. They came slow, letting us see them, making no effort to disguise themselves. I¡¯m sure they knew we¡¯d picked up on them when we started changing directions.

    For my part, I worried more about our last pursuer. He had the most lethal weapon out of the three: a Deck of Wills, fanned out in front of his hands. He emerged from the shadows in a robe nearly identical to mine, except for the padded quilting over his chest and under his arms. This was a robe designed specifically for battles. A robe given to those trusted to defend the interests of the Seekers Guild by force. And he was here for me.

    I didn¡¯t recognize him¡ªhardly surprising. Most full guild members didn¡¯t hang around at the academy unless they were teaching specific classes. This one might not have even been in Dragonmaw until asked to take this assignment. While this city had the largest Soul Seeker presence thanks to the dimming effect the wane dragons had on most other types of magic at night, full guild members were in demand as advisors anywhere influential decisions are being mulled over. He pulled out a scroll, sealed in wax with the guildmaster¡¯s signet. I could just barely make it out in the twilight.

    The residents of the middle city started to take note. We were still close enough to the downs for most of the local residents to have developed a keen sense of when things were about to go sideways. Credit to our pursuer, he let them leave before speaking. Though¡ªperhaps he feared the same thing I did, that the other would use them as hostages. Raising my opinion of him slightly wasn¡¯t exactly going to let him get away with coming after me, of course.

    Once the lane was clear, the seeker threw back his hood¡ªan elf, of course¡ªand also tossed the scroll over to me. It struck the cobbles and rolled to the side near my feet. I bent to pick it up and unwound the seal on the leather backing, playing to his formality. His voice rang out in the street.

    ¡°By signed order of the six Seeker¡¯s Guild elders, and ratified by Highlord Guifoyle of the Dragonmaw Shared Court, I am authorized to use force within the city in the apprehension of the unlicensed seeker and criminal known as the Barrow Knave, and the reclamation of guild property¡­ regardless of its condition.¡±

    I scowled. He could have left that last part out. This robe was old when I got it. Its best days were probably back kicking around with Master Hedwin¡¯s some centuries past. Still, the warrant was legitimate. Though, the fact they only listed the Barrowdown persona and not my actual name on the warrant suggested that Drella had at least left that part out when she reported my interference at the Middle City Arena. I made a mental note to thank her for that small concession, if I ever got the chance.

    The enforcer continued, splitting his cards. I could feel the Wills answering his call. ¡°Come quietly, and this need not turn violent.¡±

    I countered with my own offer as I spread the cards out before me, pulling the three of towers into my hand. ¡°Walk away, seeker. Barrowdown is beyond the authority of the Seekers Guild and answers no summons, coercions, threats of force, or warrants of extradition. You¡¯re a long way from the Shared Court, sir.¡±

    I knew it wouldn¡¯t work. The seeker had the Warlord arcana inverted above his head. Bloodthirsty, bullying. I whispered to Annalisa beside me. ¡°Ready?¡± I asked, ¡°just like we trained.¡±

    She cracked her knuckles and bounced on the balls of her feet.

    The four guild enforcers stepped closer. The one with the fist-sized ball on the iron chain began to swing it in a slow loop, creating a sound like the breeze through the city at night. The one with the pole tapped it against the cobbles. The Soul Seeker just smiled and cycled his cards in a warmup exercise. He was going to relish this as much as he could.

    Well, he wouldn¡¯t be smiling much longer. I glanced through the three of towers to be sure everything was in place, then I flicked it down into the center of the square.

    They all stared down at it.

    ¡°Cute,¡± said the guild enforcer with the pole. ¡°But you know we¡¯ve got a real Soul Seeker, right? Not just a pretender in a stolen robe?¡±

    Oh. So these hunters had been quite ill-informed, indeed. ¡°Gentlemen,¡± I said, ignoring him, for the moment. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re all wondering why I¡¯ve gathered you here today.¡±

    Iron ball scowled. ¡°Pretty sure we grouped up to track you down.¡±

    ¡°And a fine job of it you did,¡± I said. ¡°But I suppose I ought rephrase that.¡± I sent my will into the three of towers. ¡°Perhaps you should be wondering why I¡¯ve gathered you here, today.¡±

    Annalisa stuck her fingers into her ears.

    An odd look passed over the Soul Seeker¡¯s face, and then he sent his will into his deck.

    The street around us erupted.

 Chapter 84 - A Message for the Guild

    Chapter 84 - A Message for the Guild

    You could argue that showmanship robbed our advantage, or you could argue that the display of confidence enhanced it. Whichever side of the rail you fell, you¡¯d have to argue it very loudly, since all the wards I¡¯d placed around the square over the past week detonated at once, and this was one of the three squares I¡¯d concentrated them most heavily.

    Even if we can¡¯t always pick our fights, we can sometimes pick our battlegrounds. The Soul Seeker¡¯s guild had sent an arrogant, cocksure seeker after me, and he¡¯d come to track me in Barrowdown. Barrowdown was my house. I hadn¡¯t spent the last months fending off sharks, orcs, narcotic peddlers,  and every penny-scammer in the downs just to give it up when the first guild muscle came calling. I¡¯d studied the wards, just as I¡¯d promised myself. I¡¯d found something with some bite that was within my range. Picked a few strategic locations around the district and went to work with a card over my eye and a lump of sorcerer¡¯s chalk. What I¡¯m saying is, I¡¯d taken steps. Now, thanks to those steps, the guild lackies were taking flight.

    The thug with the pole was knocked clean off his feet and through the front face of a storefront. Iron ball and long-knives got hit with about half a wall¡¯s worth of splinters and flying daub, sending them sprawling to the cobbles. The cobbles under the robed Seeker bucked, but a quick trick of his cards saved him from the worst of it.

    Annalisa took her fingers out of her ears and went to work. A touch of the three of dragons saw her leaping through a frost tunnel and dropping right above the seeker¡¯s head with a punch that barely missed, and spread a spiderweb of frost across the broken cobbles. She had a lot of practice sparring with me while I had next to no practice fighting Soul Seekers. You¡¯d think that since I know what they¡¯re capable of, I¡¯d be one step ahead. Well, the enforcer had probably fought dozens of unlicensed seekers. Attacking him directly would be playing to his strengths. Being one step ahead was sending a close-range brawler to smash through everything he could throw at her.

    I headed for Iron ball. Long-knives was out out. But the other brawler was already climbing to his feet, showing surprising resilience. Before he could recover, I snaked out my deck and charged the tip with the two of knaves, creating a cutting whip that forced him to draw his hand away from his weapon. He scrabbled back, oddly lithe for a tough his size, and I used the momentum of the cards to snap the lash around and send a half-dozen charged cards flying toward him with lethal intent. He scrabbled back, managing to scoop one end of the chain up and pull the ball into a spin.

    He shot the iron projectile back out at me, flowing like water into a wide arc that would have taken my ankles out from under me if I hadn¡¯t jumped when I did, over top of where it sparked off the cobbles. Faster than I would have thought possible, he pulled the other end of the chain and his ball came back, swinging this time into a vertical arc. I stepped to the side and called my cards back to me. Iron ball was fully engaged now, and I gave ground, searching for an opening while tapping the four of dragons to expose any weaknesses.

    I discovered something else, entirely.

    I cursed and pulled my dagger. Iron ball pulled out something too: a Deck of Wills.

    ¡°They sent two of you after me?¡± I asked.

    Iron ball fanned out his deck and charged a pair of cards with his will. The chain on his ball began to warp, flowing like water¡ªsome sort of streams suit enchantment that made its motions hard to follow. In that moment of distraction, a solid force bowled me over, pushing me across the cobbles. I groaned, rolling onto my hands and pushing back up. I knew that attack. I¡¯d suffered it enough times at the hand of Tanlith Guifoyle.

    Streams and lances.

    ¡°Reading suggested we ought take you serious,¡± said Iron ball. He lashed out, sending a wave through the chain that resulted in the length of it crashing like a breaking wave. I barely got out of the way, and it dug a furrow in the cobbles at my feet. The lances came again, but I met them with the two of towers, arranging my deck like a fence and straining will-against-will with the more experienced seeker. I grit my teeth and glanced down at the possessed dagger. It¡¯s eye was closed.

    ¡°Wake up, damn you!¡± I hissed. I hadn¡¯t gotten it to speak to me again since I¡¯d pulled it out of the undercity and tried to uncover its secrets. I¡¯d seen what it could do, and it had recognized me as its new owner, but certainly given no indication that it would cooperate since. It didn¡¯t seem eager to impress me now. Still, the sleeping dagger was sharper even than the masterwork scale-etched knife I¡¯d taken off the Mayazian bruiser. If I could get close to Iron ball, it would cut all the same. Easier said than done, mind you.

    ¡°Towers and knaves, huh?¡± he said, grinning. ¡°This¡¯ll be interesting.

    To my side, the other soul seeker seemed to be holding off Annalisa¡ªif barely. Her repeated punches and kicks met with walls of the seeker¡¯s own, held solid by his will. Of the three, only he had no weapon, and it seemed he¡¯d developed his ability to use the cards themselves as one, just as I¡¯d been learning to do. Only, he¡¯d had years of practice, and it showed. A wide arc of cards caught Annalisa across the midsection and lifted her off her feet, sending her spiraling through the air. Worse yet, I could see the pole-armed one picking his way out of the storefront wreckage. He was bleeding from a dozen cuts, and still somewhat dazed, but not out of the fight.

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    I pushed in against Iron ball behind a bulwark reinforced by the two of towers but held one card in reserve behind them. Iron ball fanned out his deck again, pulling another spear card to his hand. But as soon as he sent his will into it, I split my bulwark of cards and exposed the face of the two of storms.

    Iron ball¡¯s eyes went wide as the energy from his own will shoved itself back into the card. It proved too powerful for the card to handle, and it burst into flame in his hand.

    ¡°Fates!¡± he swore, throwing the ruined card down. ¡°He¡¯s got storms!¡±

    The leader of their little hunting party was in poor position to answer, doing everything he could to fight off my partner. She leapt up for an overhand right, and when the cards came up to block, her fist dropped through a portal and caught the Soul Seeker on the side of the knee. He buckled over, going down on that side, and Annalisa landed a kick to the side of his head that sent him sprawling.

    Out of the corner of my eye I caught the fighter with the pole coming up on my flank, but he skidded to a halt when he saw his ally slide across the ground. I held my knife at the ready.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± said Iron Ball, spinning his ball, prior mirth forgotten. ¡°Go help Dallers,¡±

    Dallers, Dallers, where had I heard that name mentioned? Sometime at the academy, surely. But I couldn¡¯t recall its significance. I didn¡¯t have much time to think about it before the fist-sized ball shot out, aiming for my own kneecap in retribution. I stepped out of the path, and coating the blade with the two of knaves, drove my dagger down through one of his chain links and into the cobbles.

    The seeker enforcer tugged, but the knife was magic and the keening enchantment didn¡¯t break at the first sign of resistance the way it had on lesser blades. Handy, that.

    ¡°Don¡¯t like seeing me burn your cards, do you?¡± I asked, pulling another card into my hand.

    Iron ball scowled, dropping the chain and calling a card from his own deck.

    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on stopping at one,¡± I said, and blew into the two of dragons.

    The night lit up with brilliant, scarlet flame as the card turned my breath to dragonfire in the night. The column of fire speared out, searing half of Iron ball¡¯s deck before he had a chance to react. The dragons in my deck roared with approval. The pole user skidded to a stop and stared at the fire, before changing his mind yet again and heading back toward me.

    I didn¡¯t desperately empty my lungs into the card as I had in the tunnels beneath the city. A dragon is always in control. ¡°The downs don¡¯t recognize guild authority,¡± I shouted behind me, before taking another deep, measured breath. Iron ball did his best to get the rest of his cards between me and him, giving him a chance to retreat. I took the opportunity to reduce his greatest weapon to a pile of cinders.

    ¡°He¡¯s got dragons, too?!¡± shouted the confused bruiser.

    Iron ball was already on the retreat, so I turned to the hapless fighter facing down a mage with a stick and a prayer. ¡°Did they tell you I was a fake?¡± I asked. ¡°That I had one, maybe two cards I could call upon?¡±

    He threw down his stick, backing away. ¡°They didn¡¯t tell me shit!¡± he said. ¡°I just took this job for some extra silver. Ain¡¯t none of this worth it!¡±

    He turned to run. I let him go, moving to retrieve my dagger before moving to where Annalisa had subdued the lead enforcer in a pile of shredded cards. She still burned with the intensity of the three of dragons¡ªthough the drain didn¡¯t seem as bad as it once was. Not since meeting the Heiress. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s because my fitness had improved or because I¡¯d become more attuned than ever to the suit. Perhaps both.

    I squatted down over the defeated seeker enforcer, watching his warlord arcana flicker and sputter.

    ¡°I expected more from the guild,¡± I said.

    ¡°Well, maybe the guild should have expected more from you,¡± spat the seeker. ¡°You¡¯re obviously guild-trained. Quad-suited to boot?¡±

    He held his hand out to call the cards back to his hand, but I sent my will out as well, wrestling him for control of his own deck. His face twisted with effort But he was exhausted from fighting Annalisa. I knew how that could be. Hell, even talking to her could be exhausting. Still, his focus was like steel, and it clashed against mine as sharply as any sword.

    I concentrated harder, making my will resonate with the inverse suits in his deck¡ªthose would be the first to defect. His towers tried to deny me, but I sidled in and slipped past their guard. Storms fought me, matching will to will. Rather than battle them, I let them wash over me and settle into a calm. The dragons raged against me, proud and strong. I became one of them, and then showed them I was stronger.

    ¡°How are you doing that?¡± the guild enforcer seethed from behind clenched teeth. He tried to send his will into my deck as well, but the towers shut him out as if he stared at a wall ten paces thick. He flinched back as if struck. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The knaves in his deck reached out to me. I don¡¯t think they much cared for the seeker. Thought his tactics to be the wrong sort of underhanded. They offered an open door and I stepped through it. After that, the rest of the suits folded beneath my will. His deck crumbled under my intent, the portraits on the cards sizzling as I excised the wills from his deck¡ªleaving nothing but singed plaques of polished wood. I picked one up. The two of knaves. Appropriate.

    I handed him the ruined card. ¡°Just one who seeks truth in mystery,¡± I said, quoting an oft-spoken mantra from the academy. I looked him up and down. ¡°Take off your robe.¡±

    He didn¡¯t move.  I nodded to Annalisa, and she reached out, flipping over the enforcer and dropping him right out of the garment. I shrugged out of my own robe and swung his around my shoulders. It was in much better condition, and padded with armor panels, to boot. I tossed the other one down. ¡°Here. You came for missing guild property? Now you¡¯ve got it.¡± I tugged the lapels of the robe. ¡°I think this is a fair trade for your life. Don¡¯t come back to Barrowdown unless you¡¯ve got something even nicer to give me, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± he said.

    I tsked him. ¡°See to your friends. I have an engagement.¡±

    With Annalisa in tow, I turned east, stopping to pull my demon dagger from the cobbles.

    ¡°Fat lot of help you were,¡± I muttered.

    The blade vibrated with annoyance in my hand. I stopped, fumbling for the four of knaves.

    It yawned, sending an impression of fatigue across the deviltongue. ¡°Wake me when there¡¯s blood,¡± it said. Its awareness faded once more. I shivered.

    ¡°Come on,¡± said Annalisa, excitedly. She¡¯d already pushed the fight aside to make room for new ideas. ¡°I want to play Hawks and Wheels!¡±

 Chapter 85 - The Shrine of Fortuneâ€™s Favor

    Chapter 85 - The Shrine of Fortune¡¯s Favor

    ¡°Were those the guys you were so worried about?¡± asked Annalisa, leaning over and prodding the padded areas of my robe with the tip of her tail.

    ¡°Just the first wave,¡± I said. ¡°We were lucky they were so arrogant. How¡¯d their leader fight?¡±

    ¡°Like a mage,¡± Annalisa flexed her biceps. ¡°One that never hits the ash for a scrap. You guys need to do more press-ups.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll add it to my growing to-do list,¡± I said, angling us toward the Lucitian Shrine. But wait, you might say. I thought you were going to a gaming house.

    You¡¯d be right. And my answer to that would be that religion is a funny thing. Some (few) religions make sense. Of these, I include the temple of Trawmir, saint of Anglers, Old Stoneface, the mountain god of the dwarves, and Choklar, the god of hangry snacking whose portly clerics push wheeled shrines and sell honeyed nuts and pigeon pies throughout the streets of Dragonmaw under the icon of a sugarcane stalk. Many a late night studying at the academy was made possible by those carts.

    Slightly more eclectic are the disconnected-from-time adherents of Skein, and the savages who worship various wilds god beasts. Most strange of all is the Atheist Temple, whose sigil is a lightning rod. Even with real estate at a premium in the upper city, the nearest building to the local Atheist¡¯s Temple is a full ten paces away.

    Then, you have Lucita. Lucita is the goddess of odds and wagers. If you¡¯ve ever watched the stone roll across a roulette wheel and offered a prayer, it was to Lucita. If you¡¯ve ever prayed for that three of spades to finish out your straight and had it come up? Lucita stacked your deck. If you ever¡­ look, she¡¯s the goddess of gambling. You get the idea. Naturally, all of her shrines are gaming houses, filled with her followers offering praise and curse alike in her name. Her adherents keep the tables running and the coin flowing, and does it ever flow.

    In my humble view, most of the religions in the city are little more than ways to part a fool from their silver. Lucita¡¯s temple at least posts the odds of getting some of it back. That¡¯s more than any wishing well will do for you. I¡¯ve never seen a Temple of Fate collection plate with a 6/4 split, either. Shrines to Lucita are the only places where you can leave a church richer than when you entered¡ªunless you run the church, of course.

    And her adherents hate seekers. We¡¯re the antithesis of chance and unforeseen outcomes. We suss the truth and the order of the universe while Lucitians revel in the murk of uncertainty. We throw off the odds and make even seasoned gamblers blanche.

    We¡¯re also not super fun at parties.

    I knew we were getting close when the old guard barracks loomed above the top terrace of Barrowdown. Any further east and we¡¯d end up in the unsheathing that buffered us from Hollowdown. There¡¯s no guards in the guard barracks. That¡¯s why it¡¯s called the old guard barracks, and not just the guard barracks. Even before Margot Bethane wiped out what remained of the official city guard, it had become a pale shadow of its former self. But that shadow gathered here, and the fel witch caved half of it in with a wave of her hand. She was quick to turn the skeleton crew into a skeleton crew, if you take my meaning. She must have learned some of the northern necromancy along with her more blasphemous secrets.

    Though many of their bones still lay beneath the rubble of the north wing. The south wing that still stood¡ªwell, leaned¡ªhad become home to vagrants, shrum addicts, foreign sailors too drunk to figure out the sea was downhill, and all other manner of degenerate. Graffiti marred every wall in more languages than I could count. Some had been scratched away to make room for new markings, or even just scrawled over top to create an incomprehensible mess of both tags that was somehow still more legible than Mithra¡¯s handwriting.

    You would think with the Shrine of Lucita so close by, it would also be home to debtors. But they tend to find religion right fast when the paladins stand behind them with a cudgel and a pile of IOTs (or I owe thee¡¯s if you¡¯ve had the good sense to steer clear of gaming dens). Most converts of the Odds Goddess become so to pay down that debt¡ªwhich is a tight racket because they¡¯d already been giving all their money to the church anyway.

    Perhaps I should have become a cleric.

    Finding the shrine wasn¡¯t difficult. If anything, it would have been harder to ignore the place. Three stories of palatial stone looked quite out of place in the middle city, especially shaped and stacked to look like an old-fashioned peaked castle complex from the Mausoleum planes, with a carved visage of the goddess and her, ahem, ample blessings, that gave Felatitia¡¯s icon of lust a run for its cleavage.

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    Lucita¡¯s colors were red and white, and one of her adherents stood out front in a patchwork ruffled outfit yelling praises, odds, and drink special prices to passers by. His expression fell when he saw my seekers robes.

    ¡°Look,¡± he said, ¡°I think you might be lost. The guild is in the upper city, up that big hill, schoolboy. That¡¯s why the call it the upper city.¡± He leered at Annalisa. ¡°She can come in.¡±

    Annalisa whooped and shot through the door, leaving me with the door cleric, who continued to eye me suspiciously.

    ¡°I¡¯m not with the guild,¡± I told him.

    ¡°And I¡¯m a farmer. Wanna taste my gourds?¡±

    I scowled. I didn¡¯t just trade spells with two seekers just to be roadblocked by an entry-level altar boy. I snapped my fist out, low and direct. The door cleric¡¯s eyes bulged, and he doubled over, gasping.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think they¡¯re ripe yet,¡± I commented, stepping over him. Several of the patrons stared at the curled up, moaning moron. ¡°When you can get your boots beneath you, tell your boss that Barrowdown is at the bar to talk business.¡±

    ¡°Hulgh-fack my arse.¡±

    I pulled my hood up and stepped into the shrine. I was immediately assaulted by a cascade of lights, music, and a see of flickering card crowns that made me dizzy.

    This wasn¡¯t like some seedy, dockside dice table shoved in the corner of a whore-house. This was gambling taken to a religious expression. Clerics presided over grand gaming displays, running odds and moving wagers with crops according to sacred forms. Not every patron was a worshiper, of course. Annalisa, professional blasphemer that she was, had already managed to find a bottle of something, and she was currently splashing it over everyone nearby as she shouted at the dealer of a Stakes table¡ªwhich has rules and a board more complicated than any of the wards in Alondalis¡¯ book.

    Beneath vaulted ceilings, smokeless lanterns kept the interior daylight-bright. Hells, this gallery of games might be better lit than the finest libraries in the upper city. It had to be, in order to catch would-be cheaters. You had to be pretty brazen to risk cheating when you were playing against a capital-G God, though. A quick touch of my four of dragons showed me several floating constructs with enchantments of scrying. It also showed me several of the church paladins with concealed weapons patrolling the shrine floor. They¡¯d already marked me, and two moved to flank my movement.

    I didn¡¯t give them any reason to draw their weapons. The holy weapon of the Lucitian church is the paired brass knuckles¡ªwhich, while I didn¡¯t want to run afoul of them, probably didn¡¯t measure up well against Mayazian knives and swords. Still, it was surprising they¡¯d attacked at all. Shrines aren¡¯t exactly soft targets. But the bigger question was, why was mother Mayaz sniffing around here at all?

    I made my way to the upstairs bar on the second level, two shrine enforcers close behind. The upstairs bar was at the back of a lounge, kept darker for ambiance, with a small raised stage at the front. Paper lantern versions of the twin dragons flitted about on invisible air currents near the ceiling, spinning and circling each other much as the real ones did over Dragonmaw each night. Though these filled the lounge with the soft, warm light of flickering candles.

    The bartender, of course, was also a cleric¡ªa dwarven one, who offered an assortment of ¡®sacraments¡¯ to the others at the bar but just offered me an unimpressed look as he put his palms flat on the table. ¡°Seeker, I think ye may be lost.¡±

    ¡°Your man at the door said something similar,¡± I said. ¡°I took a chance anyway.¡± I pulled a pair of cunnings out and put them on the bar top. The dwarf still gave me the stink-eye as he swept the coins across. ¡°Kalash lager, if you¡¯ve got any.¡±

    Orcs may be assholes, but they still brew the best beer on the Bastard, thanks to the sniffers on the little ones. The primary exports from Kalash are beer, followed closely by widows. At a smattering of applause and whistles, I spun around in my chair. The fanfare marked the arrival of the next performer. I craned my neck, hoping to see one of the vaunted magic shows that were a stable in Lucitian shrines¡ªwhich ironically contained zero magic. Skilled artists made effects as though through arcane means, but in ways that left wizards worrying their beards in confusion.

    Instead, I watched Mithra step onto the stage in a corset that left even less to the imagination than her usual getup at the Mop that she wore when entertaining clients. Even more surprising, she began to sing. That was a talent I didn¡¯t even know she had. She caught my eye, winked, and before I knew it I found myself captivated by both her voice and her sinuous movements across the stage. After so much time spent working with her, I sometimes forgot that Mithra¡¯s primary living was made through making others desire her. And she was good at it. Even half the courtesans in the lounge had their eyes glued to her with either envy or desire. Hells watching her pace across the stage, even I was reconsidering my no-paid-company policy.

    A drakkyn woman slid into the chair next to me, watching me admiring Mithra. I noticed the paladins shadowing me tense up a bit.

    ¡°She¡¯s quite the showgirl,¡± said the Drakkyn. ¡°Fire in her heart. Fuels her performance.¡±

    I nodded my assent.

    The dwarven barkeep pushed over a glass of bubbling liquid without the woman even ordering, and she accepted it before twisting her neck to regard me. ¡°She has the eyes of every man and half the women in this room. Yet hers are reserved only for you, as is her praise. Tell me, Seeker. Why is that?¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just a lucky, lucky man,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking not.¡± she tilted her head as though listening to something. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d wager most of your life has been marked by misfortune.¡±

    I managed to tear my eyes off Mithra long enough to regard the unadorned red and white blouse, vest, and skirts the woman wore. She might have been dressed as a simple pit priest, but I got the distinct impression she knew as well as I the value of being underestimated.

    ¡°Finish your drink, enjoy the show, and then let¡¯s retire to a less distracting venue.¡±

 Chapter 86 - High Priestess Problems

    Chapter 86 - High Priestess Problems

    I followed the high priestess up to the third floor where she kept a private office with a small shrine to Lucita. She lit a set of votive candles while her paladins took position outside the room. I waited for her to complete her ritual and then take her time settling into one of the sedans. Serpentine tails make most chairs and couches awkward for drakkyn. It¡¯s difficult to judge drakkyn ages, as well, but I put her at about forty summers.

    ¡°These are strange times to be welcoming a seeker into a temple of our Lady of Wagers,¡± said the high priestess.

    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s always odd times in Drawgonmaw, priestess.¡±

    ¡°Alas, true enough.¡±

    At a knock on the door, the paladin opened it to reveal an attendant with two cups of something. The high priestess gestured to the squat table between us and took one of the steaming cups almost as soon as they were set down. She sniffed at it. ¡°Tea from my home province. Quite unpronounceable for you, unfortunately. And perhaps just as unpalatable. But it is tradition to offer it when offering names.¡±

    I took the cup and took a tentative sip. It was bitter, tasting of pollen and a slight spicy aftertaste that made me incredibly thirsty. I did my best not to cough, but one small sputter slipped out. ¡°That¡¯s a bit rough on the back end,¡± I said. The high priestess chuckled.

    ¡°My own name, I¡¯m afraid, you would find equally unpronounceable,¡± said the priestess. She said something sounding akin to the word problems, with sibilants somehow inserted after the p, b, and, as best I can describe, underneath the e.

    ¡°High priestess Problems,¡± I said.

    ¡°Close enough,¡± she laughed, hissing. ¡°Apt, as I have no shortage of them, these days.¡±

    I took another sip of the tea and immediately regretted it. ¡°Such as the Mayaz moving in where they¡¯re not welcome.¡±

    Priestess Problems shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand it. Hollowdown¡¯s abyssal cults have never had more than a passing enmity for us. Despite our similar trades, little crossover persists in our clientele. Their sudden aggression caught us off guard. We¡¯re a faith of influence by coin, not strength of arms. Wars ill-suit us.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t know why they attacked?¡±

    Problems shook her head.

    I pulled my deck from under my robe and unsealed it. I didn¡¯t even know a reptile woman could purse her lips, but the high priestess managed it at the Deck of Wills in my hand. I nodded to the alter. ¡°With her permission?¡±

    Problems closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded.

    I leaned forward, curious. ¡°She speaks to you?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± said Problems. ¡°Her guidance is like a peculiar weight to the dice, to lean a decision one way or the other.¡± she spread her hands. ¡°To leave this to fate is to invoke Her will.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand theology,¡± I admitted, shuffling and cutting the deck. I noticed Problems shift slightly as I sent my will into the cards. The Wills were strong and certain as I skimmed the top three cards and flipped them. The lovers arcana, the four of streams, and the five of storms.

    I studied the cards, chin couched in my elbow. The high priestess sipped her tea and watched with interest. ¡°This,¡± I said, tapping the lovers, ¡°represents a new partnership. With Them? With us? I couldn¡¯t say. The middle one, the narrows, represents an acceleration of sorts. And the swell of storms? A growing power.¡± I hmmed. ¡°Mother Mayaz is a seeker as well. If she foresaw an alliance and wanted to stop any potential partnership between us. Ironic that such a thing might have been galvanized by her interference. Self-fulfilling prophecy, that would be. But the strands of fate form eddies around gods of odds and fortunes. Though, in truth, she might have other reasons. Perhaps I¡¯m missing a variable.¡±

    ¡°Not so much an exact science, is it?¡± asked the priestess.

    ¡°If that¡¯s not the pot calling the kettle black¡­¡± I muttered, sweeping my deck back together.

    Problems giggled, nodding in commiseration. ¡°Priests and fortune tellers. We who interpret the whims of those above our mortal ken must make do with what such base creatures as us can perceive.¡± At another knock on the door, she set her cup on the tray and gestured for her paladin to open it before continuing. ¡°Still, I hold hope this matter with Mother Mayaz might be resolved peaceably.¡±

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    I stacked and squared my cards. Just as I started to relax my control over them, they pushed back and a fourth card shot out into the air. I snatched it from the air. Both Problems and her paladin stared at it. I laid it down. The four of demons, inverted. Failure of intelligence, Enemies at the threshold.

    ¡°Your attendant,¡± I said, standing, ¡°Had a very different knock this time.¡± I drew the four of knaves and sent a quick deviltongue ping to Annalisa, and, after a moment¡¯s consideration, to Mithra, as well.

    The paladin let go of the knob and slipped on his holy knuckle dusters.

    I moved to the side of the door opposite the paladin as the knock came again. I slid my dagger from its sheath beneath my robe and held up three fingers to the paladin. Then two.

    Before I could get to one, a loud crash of glass and a splat shook the walls. The paladin looked at me and jerked the door open. The Mayazian on the other side staggered, hand to his head. Beer soaked his front, and several shards of glass stood out from his flesh.

    ¡°I was WINNING!¡± screamed Annalisa, who hurled a second glass at one of the other two knifemen in the hall.

    I had to duck back so it didn¡¯t hit me. It crashed against the wall at the far end, but then I was out in a flash, driving my knife into the chest of the dazed shark before. The paladin was out the door after me, and I saw his knuckles light up with holy power. He swung at the next Mayazian. I watched from behind, eager to see the smite in action. Unfortunately, there¡¯s a problem with serving a goddess of chance. His attack fizzled on contact, leaving the Mayazian free to sweep his thin knife across the stunned paladin¡¯s front. The man fell back, hands grasping at the wound as he gurgled his last breaths.

    I scowled, cursing the worthless bastard¡ªor rather, his lack of luck, and fanned out my deck. The other paladin lay sprawled on the carpet near the priestess¡¯ previous attendant. Her throat had been bitten out, and the third Mayazian had the red-stained, eel-like jaws to mark him as her murderer. I think he might have been part drakkyn, but the abyssal cult of Mother Mayaz had warped him. Annalisa sailed past me with a wild haymaker that the knifeman had managed to block, though it set him off balance. He took a step, but a frost portal opened up below his foot, and he fell to the side, right into Annalisa¡¯s rising knee, which sunk into his gut. I¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t pass out then and there, but he somehow manage to get his arms around my partner and toss her to the ground.

    The eel spun his daggers and hissed, charging me, but hesitated, looking down at my hand. The eye on the hilt of my blade was open, and it was fixed on the eel. I looked up at the Mayazian, grinned, and opened my grip. He flinched back as the knife shot from my palm¡ªstraight towards him. He managed to deflect it, where it wedged in the wall and fought to get free. But I was already feeding my will into the two of knaves, which I threw at him. The eel was quick, managing not to get skewered by the spinning card. But it still tore a hole through the side of his coat, which he twisted his sinuous neck to look at. He quickly reversed his grip on one of his knives and threw it at me. About that time, my own knife worked itself free of the wall and sunk into the eel¡¯s calf.

    Momentarily distracted, I charged my cards with the three of dragons and whipped the heated deck at the pair of Mayazians. A bright welt appeared across the eel¡¯s face where it struck him, but I couldn¡¯t get a good angle on the other with Annalisa tangled up the way she was.

    ¡°What is that?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t even heard the high priestess come out of the room, but I glanced back to see her staring at the ceiling, which had the leg of a Mayazian thug coming out of it, courtesy of Annalisa. I wrapped the chain of cards around it and yanked down, pulling him further through the portal. He panicked at the sudden pain, allowing Annalisa to get the upper hand.

    The eel-looking one flipped one of his own knives and hurled it at the high priestess. With a quick burst of the two of towers I bolstered her resilience, but the blade still left a red line across the side of her neck and she dropped with a cry. The eel grinned, but missed the demon dagger pulling itself free and slamming into his side. He gasped and screamed, clutching at the hilt, but it wriggled deeper. He had the double jaws of a predator eel.

    ¡°Good knife,¡± I muttered, closing in. He saw me coming and tried to raise his own blade. I charged my entire deck with the three of knaves, and it turned into a storm of phantoms, disguising my own actions. I reached down and slipped the iron knuckles off one of the paladins, putting them on my own fist and taking a page from Annalisa¡¯s manuscript. I came through my own cloud of cards with my fist raised.

    He ducked my punch and his jaws snapped out, grazing the sleeve of my robe with needle-like teeth. I grabbed his wrist with my other hand before he could bring the knife up.

    ¡°Darcent!¡± shouted Annalisa, somewhere behind me. A blast of cold hit my cheek, and her foot appeared from below, ramming up into the chin of the Mayazian. Stunned, it let go of my sleeve. I wound up and and drove the knuckles home right on the eel¡¯s forhead. His eyes rolled up and his lights went out.

    I shook off my hand, I didn¡¯t realize how much using false knuckles could hurt. How the hell did Annalisa do this with bare hands?

    I bent double, gasping, and turned to my partner. She¡¯d somehow gotten around to the other shark¡¯s back and currently had him in a complicated-looking choke hold. I stumbled over and repeated the punch that had put the other Mayazian out. By now, more of the paladins had responded to the scuffle. It had lasted only a few moments, from start to finish. They took in the dead and dying, Annalisa and myself, and their high priestess on the ground. Their knuckles started to glow.

    I raised a hand. ¡°Easy, lads,¡±

    One of them advanced eyes glowing with celestial power. A hand shot up from the floor, wrapping around his ankle. He looked down at the high priestess.

    ¡°Priestess?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she ordered. ¡°They¡¯ve just saved my life.¡±

    The budding smite dimmed and winked out, and the paladin knelt beside the head of the shrine and propped her up. He turned to his companions. ¡°Make sure there aren¡¯t any more,¡± he ordered.

    I slumped to my haunches as the other Lucitian paladins moved by me to check on the others and secure the floor. I looked across at Problems. ¡°Still think you can settle this peaceably with Mother Mayaz?¡±

    ¡°Fuck no,¡± she rasped. ¡°We¡¯re going to war.¡±

 Chapter 87 - More Allies

    Chapter 87 - More Allies

    Lucitians don¡¯t believe in debts¡ªat least, not to people other than the church. But saving someone¡¯s life does have a way of ingratiating them to you. Annalisa was easy enough to please, of course. All she wanted was free drinks for the rest of the night and a handful of chips for the Stakes table. My own desires were a bit more esoteric, and wouldn¡¯t be bought quite so easily.

    ¡°Another inch to the left and you¡¯d have been dead. Towers or no towers,¡± I said to Problems.

    She made the hand gesture of her temple, which looks a bit like flipping an invisible coin. ¡°As our Lady of Odds whims.¡±

    ¡°At the risk of sounding blasphemous, Lucita seems to be a fickle bitch. The least she could do is protect her own followers. What makes her so worthy of devotion?¡±

    Problems smiled and looked down. ¡°I was a powder mixer before I came to the Bastard. And that is a very exact¡ªand exacting¡ªscience. The blasting soot for our pistols and rifles follows precise formulae¡ªand don¡¯t ask, because I won¡¯t reveal it¡ªto remain stable enough to propel an iron bullet on command and at the velocity required to pierce a breastplate. Fourteen years ago, after working three double-shifts, I strayed from that formula. By chance, I mixed the ratios of two ingredients¡ªone of which is an accelerant, the other of which is a stabilizer.¡±

    ¡°So you made the boom twice as potent with half the stability?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Only, the oxidizer¡ª¡°

    ¡°The what?¡±

    ¡°The boom-enhancer,¡± she pulled the cloth away from her neck, wincing and checking the red smudge, ¡°turned out to itself be improperly mixed with a compound that formed a neutralizing chemical bond with the stabilizer in an exotherm¡ªa heat-producing reaction. So, the more stabilizer¡­.¡±

    ¡°The more heat,¡± I finished. ¡°How did that happen?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It turned out to be provided to our supplier by a rival mixer, along with a substantial purse of silver. I alone, out of eight other masters survived the fire. Because, by chance, I had introduced only half the typical stabilizer, and so it did not get hot enough to reach combustion.¡±

    I sat back and looked at the two new paladins in the room. ¡°I don¡¯t follow.¡±

    ¡°Before that night, I had always prayed to Ma¡¯halrak. A drakkyn storm god, if you¡¯re unfamiliar. But he didn¡¯t keep me safe. A simple mistake did. A fluke of chance. Our Lady of Wagers makes no promises, grants no boons, demands no tribute. But neither does she strike out of spite, become jealous, or grant favor contingent on deeds in Her name. She is a Goddess who will walk beside you, You can curse her name, sing her praises, and it will phase her not one bit¡ªfor her blessings are truly random. There is fairness in her unfairness. And that is laudable.¡±

    She examined her cloth again, before switching it for a clean one. The wound wasn¡¯t deep. At least, not enough to need sutures. The priestess sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to understand, Master Knave.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief,¡± I said. ¡°Because you lost me at neutralizing chemical bond.¡±

    High Priestess Problems laughed, and then turned to look at the door. ¡°To think, while I spoke of truce, people in that hall were being gutted. Still, I don¡¯t understand, why now?¡±

    I leaned forward. ¡°I might have kicked over the hornet¡¯s nest. Mother Mayaz is trying to follow the fel witch¡¯s footsteps. But I don¡¯t know why they lead to your door.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know it was possible for a drakkyn to purse their lips, but Problems managed it. ¡°Perhaps the variable is yet before our eyes. Tell me, do you know why the abyssal cults followed Margot Bethane?¡±

    I shook my head, suddenly wary.

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    ¡°Bethane wielded prophecy like a blade¡ªincluding those central to many religions¡ªin pursuit of her goals. The abyssals that found root in Hollowdown following the fall of the fel witch were one such sect.¡±

    ¡°What does that have to do with Lucita?¡± I asked.

    She spread her hands. ¡°Lucita promises only cold chance. She is antithetical to architects of prophecy looking to quicken signs before their time. She stunts the artificial haste of things foretold, but yet to come. She forestalls them coming before chance would will them naturally.¡±

    Name thyself. I shivered, hoping the priestess wouldn¡¯t notice. Had Lucita been on my side that night when Margot paid me a visit?

    ¡°This actually solves a bit of the puzzle,¡± I said. ¡°The Mayazians have been mad for prophecy lately. I had opportunity to deny them a treasure trove of prophetic writings recently. This aggression could be a response.¡± I scratched my chin. ¡°What is this prophecy they¡¯re trying to hasten, anyway?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that for that answer, you¡¯d have to ask Mother Mayaz. But seeing as how readily the abyss threw in for the fel witch, I can safely say nothing good.¡±

    And somehow, I played a pivotal role. Gods, why did it have to be me? All I¡¯d been doing was cowering in a basement. Clearly I had some magical prowess, but it shouldn¡¯t have been enough to attract the attention of Margot Bethane and now Mother Mayaz. I considered. The sooner I learned about those books from the Golden Elf college, the better. They must have some answers, even if they aren¡¯t necessarily the ones I wanted. The Wills had led me to those three books in particular, out of the thousands¡ªperhaps tens of thousands in the Soul Seeker library.

    ¡°There¡¯s still the matter of fortifying your shrine. Mayaz aggression won¡¯t stop just because they got a whiff of us here.¡± I looked at the paladins in the room¡ªsecond string smiters, at best. One even had a pig-iron adventurer¡¯s badge. Not so long ago, he¡¯d have flattened me. Now, I didn¡¯t even consider him a threat. Not to me, and certainly not to some of the Mayazian bruisers. Darza would have carved through us like Winter Eve pheasants.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m quite certain they will not,¡± agreed Problems. She ran a claw around the rim of her teacup. ¡°So, what do you suggest?¡±

    I leaned back. ¡°You need muscle.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re hardly hurting for coin. We can contract with the guild¡­¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°Muscle you can trust. Mother Mayaz doesn¡¯t have to buy out every badge you hire. Just enough. Let my man manage the security. We have a few guild regulars we trust. You¡¯ll need new warding, too. Mother Mayaz can divine blind spots. I have someone expertly acquainted with wards that I think would be willing to help.¡±

    ¡°And since you¡¯re not adherents of the church, I¡¯m sure this isn¡¯t being offered out of devotion to Lucita,¡± said Problems.

    ¡°No, but since it¡¯s in our interest to throw a spanner in the Mayazian rudderworks, I¡¯m not going to charge you the bone king¡¯s cache. It will be expensive, but I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s worth it. I do have one other request.¡±

    Problems leveled her eyes at me. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    ¡°Your arena,¡± I said. ¡°On the second level. I want Annalisa to fight there.¡±

    The high priestess hissed. ¡°Billings at the shrine pit rival those in the upper city, and for good reason. They¡¯re guaranteed honest. They¡¯re not like your cheat-filled downs pits with weighted odds. I¡¯d rather pay full price for your muscle.¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°The fight is non-negotiable. We need to start moving into fights beyond the downs. I¡¯m sure there are plenty of adventurers who would be willing to take a swing at my partner. I¡ª¡± I stopped. ¡°How do you know the fights are all honest?¡± I ventured.

    Problems smiled. ¡°One of Lucita¡¯s rare blessings. Nothing inside the ring can be affected by those outside the ring. A divine barrier prevents it. If you want to ply your cards on your partner, you¡¯ll have to be in the ring beside her to do it.¡±

    I grimaced. Annalisa and I fought well together¡ªmuch better than either of us did alone. But many of the fighting teams out there drilled for years in the pit to become effective partners. But few of them had the lovers arcana burning above their heads. And Annalisa still bore the precipice. Caution ill-fit the Barrow Knave and the Lady Blue. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°A doubles fight.¡±

    ¡°Very well. When can I expect the first of your fighters?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Tonight,¡± I said, standing. ¡°Thank you for the tea. It was¡­ interesting.¡±

    Problems laughed. ¡°Just say bad, Barrow Knave.¡±

    One of the paladins opened the door for me.

    ¡°Food for thought, Knave,¡± said the high priestess. ¡°Not all those chasing prophecy are seeking to evoke it. It can just as easily be prevented¡ªby ensuring those associated are dealt with before they can play their part.¡±

    The door shut behind me. I stood in the hall and watched acolytes scrub at the carpet with bristle brushes for a few moments before heading back to the lounge. I sat alone at the bar for a time, not interested in watching the lutist who had replaced Mithra underneath the limelight.

    Two drinks in, I got to thinking about something else that was mentioned in my conversation with the high priestess: a variable we were missing. I thought back to my first encounter with Mother Mayaz¡¯ gang¡ªwhen she¡¯d attacked the Mop and Bucket.

    It hadn¡¯t been a random attack. And it hadn¡¯t been me she was after. In the aftermath, I hadn¡¯t really been concerned with what her original goal was. I was too busy with the heap of shit Kridick left for me to step in after throwing us to the sharks.

    I slipped out my deck and did a quick reading to confirm my suspicions. Then, I got up from the bar, collected my partner, and left the shrine.

 Chapter 88 - A Divine Blockage

    Chapter 88 - A Divine Blockage

    Back at the Mop and Bucket, I waited for Mithra in her room. I didn¡¯t want anyone else to hear our conversation. She arrived slightly after dawn and startled when she saw me using her cosmetics table as a makeshift desk to carve a few more Wills into black fjord pine blanks.

    Of course her first instinct was to try to unbalance me with a seductive grin and a quick quip.

    ¡°I¡¯m off shift, but I suppose I could make an exception if you want me to take a turn being the boss.¡±

    ¡°Why is Mother Mayaz targeting Lenise?¡± I asked.

    She froze, fake smile dropping away. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    I pulled the Deck of Wills from my robe and drew the cards, letting them spin idly in the air. ¡°There¡¯s an interesting quirk when it comes to the Wills. When multiple seekers attempt to read the same subject, the results become muddled and inconsistent¡ªbecause observing a thing changes a thing. Now, there are ways to work around it, but the fact that it¡¯s happening means that either three or more seekers are trying to track her,¡± I counted off on my fingers, ¡°That would be at least myself, Daggertongue, and Mother Mayaz. Or,¡± I put my hands down. ¡°She¡¯s hiding somewhere with exceptionally advanced anti-divination wards. Like a shrine of Lucita.¡±

    Mithra took off her coat and dropped it on the floor before slumping down on her bed amongst a dozen or so cushions. Perfume wafted up from the sheets. Ordinarily a bastion of confidence, I¡¯d invaded her sanctum and taken away her control specifically to make her feel exposed. It was a calculated play lauded by the towers in my deck¡ªthough the knaves wanted me to swoop in and take a different sort of advantage of the plane-touched woman.

    She took a deep breath before answering. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said.

    ¡°Not good enough,¡± I said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t!¡± protested Mithra. ¡°I¡¯ve spent the last year trying to keep her away from Daggertongue. This thing with Mother Mayaz? I don¡¯t know where it¡¯s come from.¡±

    ¡°Look where you¡¯re keeping her, Mithra. It¡¯s bad luck! Hells, it¡¯s probably divine intervention.¡± I called the cards into my hand and rifled through them. ¡°Alright. So, let¡¯s start with why Daggertongue wants her.¡±

    Mithra¡¯s face cycled through several expressions as she weighed what to tell me. I sent my will into the four of dragons, which I knew would give my eyes a sinister glow in the gloom of the bedchamber. It also showed me that Mithra had a valuable ring, and a dagger concealed in her bodice lining.

    ¡°She¡¯s his bastard daughter,¡± said Mithra. ¡°Beget by a whore and kept like a slave. It¡¯s something to do with some prophecy. He¡¯s been grooming her to play some part since she was a child.¡±

    It all came back to prophecy. Something I wanted nothing to do with and no part of, but somehow found myself in the middle of. Mayazian prophecy, elven prophecy. I hated it. Soul Seekers are all about the truth of the moment, not what could or might happen based on the shrum-addled ravings of some scruffy old prophet a thousand years back.

    Mithra looked across at me. ¡°How did you figure it out?¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°The high priestess wasn¡¯t the target of that attack, tonight. Her attendant was¡ªbut not the one they got. Priestess Problems was a target of opportunity. And seeing as you were moonlighting there, I figured there had to be a good reason. You made sure Lenise wasn¡¯t working during the second attack.¡±

    ¡°Seekers,¡± said Mithra, tossing one of her cushions across the room. She stared up at the ceiling. ¡°Why try to keep secrets at all?¡±

    I stood, and Mithra flinched back. But I only paced the room, chin couched in my hand as I considered how the new information affected my planning. ¡°The priestess doesn¡¯t know. She believes Mother Mayaz quarrel is with her alone, which puts us in an advantageous position. Ironically, we never would have had an in with the shrine if you hadn¡¯t inadvertently lured the sharks there in the first place.¡±

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    Mithra raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°You don¡¯t sound as pissed as I thought you would.¡±

    I cast her a look, and she looked away. ¡°There¡¯s still other considerations. You can¡¯t keep her hidden. There¡¯s Daggertongue to consider, whose pocket we¡¯re in, I might remind you. He terrified Kridick. And speaking of the old crown, he¡¯ll be looking for a way back into the old man¡¯s good graces and that¡¯s a straight ticket, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Not to mention what Daggertongue himself will do if he finds out I¡¯ve had his daughter under my nose this whole time.¡± I shot a look at Mithra. ¡°Though you¡¯d know better than I, I imagine.¡±

    ¡°Nothing good,¡± she admitted. ¡°Are you going to tell him?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m considering it,¡± I said, honestly. ¡°She¡¯s a liability to everything we¡¯re building here.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s an innocent woman, Darcent!¡± Mithra pleaded.

    I thought back to a night in stitch alley, feeling the blood of an innocent woman splash onto my face¡ªfollowed shortly by the blood of a powerful witch. I felt a sickness crawl up my stomach. ¡°This city swallows the innocent and the guilty alike, Mithra.¡±

    I looked over. Mithra¡¯s mask had dropped entirely, and she had her nails dug into her cheeks hard enough to draw blood. Her golden eyes welled with tears. I couldn¡¯t hold that gaze.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a decision I can make alone,¡± I said. ¡°Annalisa has to have a say as well.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Mithra.

    I scowled. It was a partial abdication of responsibility, to be sure. The smartest thing to do¡ªboth for myself and the organization¡ªwould be to march right up to Threadripper and tell him where Daggertongue ought look for his daughter. But there was truth in what Mithra said, as well.

    * * *

    Two days of fortifying the Lucitian Shrine later, I still hadn¡¯t decided what to do. But I had gotten word from Hawkley that he had a buyer lined up for the first of my books. So, Annalisa in tow, fresh and fired up from training in the pits for her next fight, I headed for the upper city.

    Our route took us further west than if we¡¯d been going to Hawkleys, which meant passing through Cradledown and then by the middle city makers guild. There are very few artisan items you can¡¯t find in Dragonmaw, and since we weren¡¯t in a hurry, I decided to slow-roll things and stop in at some of the stores so Annalisa and I could pretend we weren¡¯t dirt poor for a while.

    Though, feeling the change in my purse, I wasn¡¯t sure we were, anymore. The operation had stopped hemorrhaging silver just to keep things afloat. With the take coming in from the wolves in Kindledown, proceeds from fights in both districts, and the influx of coin from Lucita, things weren¡¯t in such dire straits where the downs were concerned. We¡¯d finally established ourselves as a credible presence in the downs and brought most of the minor gangs in Barrowdown and the matchbox to heel. The Barrow Knave and the Lady Blue were whispered less often in jest and more in respect. I¡¯d even started detecting some probes from further west, from crews on the other side of Kindledown. But, we were still from the lower city, and in the eyes of everyone uphill, that made us lesser.

    Flush in coppers, poor in standing, perhaps. I patted the sail-cloth satchel that held several more copied pages from one of the elven manuscripts. Well, we had to start somewhere. And the last place I¡¯d expected to be heading was the Royal Arcanists Repository. I just hoped I didn¡¯t end up setting this one on fire, too.

    Of particular interest to Annalisa was a dress-maker with several elegant gowns in the window. We let ourselves in to the shop and dropped our face-coverings. With how hot and humid the summer days in Dragonmaw were, it felt like instant relief. Most of the population in the western half of the city had adopted face coverings when outdoors due to the smoke drifting up from the undercity. But wearing them during the day was just awful.

    I¡¯d never seen Annalisa in a dress, but she flitted about, looking at the various cuts and commenting on what was in and out of fashion in the upper city. I had no idea such things even interested the career fighter. It just goes to show that you can never truly know a person. While initially wary of the over-excited devilborn bouncing through their shop, the staff eventually caught her infectious enthusiasm and brought out more bolts of cloth in colors they claimed would better suit her unique complexion. She ate it all up, and I was content to watch, and occasionally critique some of the craftsmanship they tried to convince her was top notch.

    ¡°Where did you learn so much about dresses?¡± Annalisa asked after I turned down the third one with inferior stitching.

    ¡°My mother was a seamstress,¡± I said. I looked at a corset and idly considered buying it for Mithra. ¡°In another life, if¡­ what happened, hadn¡¯t happened,¡± I said, tossing a glance at the proprietors who were listening quite closely, ¡°I might have become a tailor. I was always deft with the needle and shears. How do you know so much about dresses?¡±

    ¡°Because I think they¡¯re beautiful,¡± said Annalisa. She ran a thumb under the lapels of her vest, which she wore over a stiff-collared work-shirt above practical trousers. ¡°I never get to wear them much, though. What with my training and guarding you and all. You can¡¯t really fight in a gown, and the snow from my tunnels would ruin the fabric.¡± she held a dark purple dress up against herself, looking in a body-length mirror and twisting about. It had more layers than Dragonmaw and I didn¡¯t know how any person could wear it and not trip over themselves. But, true enough, her blue and black-veined skin looked quite striking against the material. ¡°I would look amazing in this,¡± she said, sighing.

    I thought back to the invitation to the masquerade theater. To the Barrow Knave and the Lady Blue. Surely, it had been an invitation to a trap. But it could also be an opportunity. I looked at the proprietor. ¡°Throw in a pair of masks and we¡¯ll take it.¡±

    Annalisa squealed.

 Chapter 89 - Try Not to Burn This One Down, Darcent

    Chapter 89 - Try Not to Burn This One Down, Darcent

    Leaving the dress shop and heading north to our appointment, I¡¯d rarely seen Annalisa in such a good mood. While it¡¯s true that the devilborn girl flitted from fits of excitement to deep melancholy and back as quick as the breeze could change, I¡¯d rarely seen her simply content and focused on something.

    ¡°You just wait, I¡¯ll be the most amazing at wearing dresses! Did you know they have competitions where ladies line up in corsets and get scores? I bet I¡¯d win easily¡ªmaybe unless Mithra were there¡ªbut how long do you think it will take them to make the alterations? I don¡¯t want to rush them, but I really want that dress. Why did you ask about masks? I don¡¯t think we should do any fighting or stealing in that, it would be too difficult to move fast or fight or keep it clean but oh my stars, did you see the lace pattern?¡±

    I only half listened. The conversation didn¡¯t seem to require a second participant, except as a target. I imagined this was probably how her training dummies felt when she went to work with her combos. My mind was still elsewhere, unsure how to broach the subject of Lenise and Daggertongue to my partner. After another few minutes of hearing about the dress, I decided the best approach was the direct one.

    ¡°Anna,¡± I said, cutting her off.

    She stilled, immediately on guard.

    I told her what I¡¯d learned about Lenise and Daggertongue. And laid out what I believed to be the merits of both secrecy and disclosure.

    Annalisa believed only one of our choices had merit. And I certainly wasn¡¯t prepared for the immediacy and no uncertain terms of her position.

    A flash of pain erupted from my cheek, and I found the cobbles spinning up at me dangerously quickly. I sprawled across the street, barely able to move for the pain in my face. The world stopped making sense for a bit, and when I rolled over on my back and gasped up at the evening sky, Annalisa appeared over me. She was so angry she vibrated. The blue-black veins bulged on her forearms as she squeezed her fists. Her polished horns suddenly looked incredibly threatening.

    She hadn¡¯t even punched me. It had been an open-handed slap. And as soon as I pushed up to my knees, she dealt me one on the other cheek that sent me sprawling to the cobbles again.

    ¡°Anna, what the hells?¡± I shouted. We were almost to the cusp of the upper city, and people were staring. This wasn¡¯t the downs, you can¡¯t just assault people and get into fights near the upper city. Adventurers patrolled up here¡ªstrong ones. And we had bounties.

    ¡°How could you even consider,¡± hissed Annalisa.

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    I scrambled back onto my feet before my devilborn partner could lay me flat again. ¡°I have to consider everything, Annalisa. I¡¯m trying to run this organization, and that means looking out for the people in it. Daggertongue isn¡¯t someone we want as an enemy. Trust me, I¡¯ve looked into him. He could squeeze us out of the downs in a heartbeat.¡±

    ¡°And that makes it ok to backstab your friends?¡± she shook her finger in my face. ¡°I already told you. If you start to become the monster¡ªif you go down that path¡­ well, even looking down it is probably bad. What about Mithra, did you think of her? Everything she¡¯s done for you¡ªthat she¡¯s still doing¡ªto keep Lenise safe? And you¡¯d ruin everything just to buy yourself off? She¡¯d kill you! And I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d want to stop her.¡±

    She shook her head and turned away. ¡°I thought you were better than that. Better than the rest of them.¡±

    ¡°The rest of who, Anna?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer. She stalked off, back down the hill. ¡°Let me know when you come to your senses,¡± she shouted back. ¡°Until then, guard your own damn self. Try not to burn this one down, Darcent.¡±

    Unsure whether she meant the library or our friendship, I watched the polished glare of her horns disappear back into the crowd. So, that was where she stood. This certainly made a bugbear¡¯s furry cock of things.

    I hefted my satchel, both cheeks stinging. Ignoring the stares, I pressed on toward the upper city¡ªalone, this time. And perhaps feeling more alone than I had since the night my mother¡­ well, you know the story.

    The hill climbed as the sun dropped. Dragonmaw is, as ever, a city of the night. The first stars began to wink and I¡¯m sure the astrologists were breaking their fasts at the Stargazers Guild. Beneath the waking light of the wane dragons, I made my way to the Royal Arcanists Repository, the biggest library in the upper city (though Madam Peaks¡¯ had a larger and likely more enthusiastic clientele).

    You might wonder why it¡¯s called the Royal Arcanists Repository when there aren¡¯t any royals to be had in Dragonmaw. To be candid, so was I. Maybe I¡¯d ask.

    The repository was near the university district, west of the noble quarter, but east of most of the mainstream religious temples. From the courtyard I could see all the way down to the sea, as well as both sides of the Sungate where the last beams of pink light beyond the horizon painted the base of the clouds over the water. I watched the light fade along with the stinging in my cheeks before approaching the library.

    The doorman gave me the exact sort of look you¡¯d expect a snobby upper city servant to give a lower city dregg: one that ran the entire length of his prodigious nose and jumped from the top of his curled lip down to where his opinion of me lay. I didn¡¯t like him much, either, but I had business here.

    ¡°Are you lost, young man?¡± he asked.

    I wished I could have hit him square in the eggs like I had the rude Lucitian doorman, but I¡¯d already spotted four guards before I¡¯d even hit the main entrance. Not pushover paladins, either. These had polished armor and pole axes. Books are valuable, and the collected works at the Royal Arcanists actually belonged mostly to the city¡¯s upper-crust¡ªon loan or lease to the society.

    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to meet with the Lady Pelladine of Marks Hill,¡± I said, drawing a scrawled missive from my pack.

    The doorman¡¯s scowl deepened. ¡°The Lady is a very busy woman whose time is not to be wasted,¡± he said.

    I straightened the note and cleared my throat. ¡°I¡¯m also meant to to tell you, ¡°Rory, stop being such a trullen sod and let them inside forthwith. I haven¡¯t got all night, have I?¡± I lowered the note. ¡°Are you Rory, then?

    The man¡¯s reddening face sunk into the stiff neck of his collar as he looked away.

    ¡°Welcome to the repository,¡± he mumbled. I stepped past him and through the threshold.

 Chapter 90 - The Royal Arcanists Repository

    Chapter 90 - The Royal Arcanists Repository

    I couldn¡¯t help but stop and stare. A year ago, I¡¯d thought the Seeker¡¯s Guild had the grandest collection of books anywhere in the world. Then I¡¯d thought the Golden Elf college in the undercity was surely unparalleled.

    Standing in the entry way of the Royal Arcanists Book Repository, I had to wonder why they needed me at all. They must already own nearly every book that ever existed¡ªand those were just the ones I could see.

    If this place was a castle, written works were its fortifications. The foyer spread out to a tiled motif of the Royal Arcanists Society sigil of a book, quill, and wand on the floor where dozens of clerks crossed from unknown origins to unknown destinations. Behind an information desk, a twin set of steps led up to a gallery of shelves that held thousands of books. Such was my gawking that a new arrival simply shoved me from behind to make way, and I stumbled off to the side to gawk at my leisure. And I didn¡¯t even like books. I paced along the tiled floor, watching the comings and goings and trying to make sense of what looked like disorder¡ªbut the storms in my deck assured me was a perfectly controlled chaos.

    Eventually, I made my way up to the information desk past a myriad of signs warning against smoke and open flames in the library. My dragons were unimpressed, but I ignored them. The spectacled clerk behind the counter peered down at me with curiosity, as though he wasn¡¯t sure what he was looking at.

    ¡°Pass?¡± he asked skeptically.

    It wasn¡¯t the open hostility of the doorman, so rather than being petulant, I handed up my note. He briefly glanced at the writing and pulled over a scrap of parchment.

    ¡°You¡¯ll want the lost and restored works department in the east wing. Follow these directions and keep to the main path.¡±

    On a whim, I asked: ¡°Do you have any works by a Seeker Lancaster, here?¡±

    The clerk tilted his head. ¡°Possibly in the divinations and arcane philosophy department. If you¡¯re wanting a writ to borrow from the collection, there is a ten flourish per month membership with a minimum of six months commitment, and a twenty flourish initiation fee to support the restoration endowment and acquisitions initiative. I shall require your letter of credit prior to processing.

    I gulped. Flourishes haven¡¯t been mentioned much, because, well I hadn¡¯t got any. They were gold marks, worth eleven cunnings each at current conversion. And I would need thirty of them just to check out a book. Dragons above, what was I doing in this place?

    Belonging, the knaves whispered.

    That was true. A knave should wear his surroundings like a comfortable cloak, whatever they may be. So I didn¡¯t have the generational wealth to throw away on books, but they¡¯d asked me here. All the books in all the world, and I had the one the repository wanted. ¡°Perhaps next time,¡± I said, taking the instructions. ¡°I didn¡¯t think to stop by the bank.¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir,¡± said the clerk.

    I left him and headed to the eastern wing where the restored works department lay. It took me through a hall of maps from around the world, far-off continents, islands, and expeditions into the frozen north plotted behind elven glass panes with barely any defects or clouding. I didn¡¯t know much geography. Having spent my entire life in Dragonmaw with no pressing reason to ever leave it, I had long-since decided that the Crooked Spine Bastard Vomiting was plenty big enough. Exploring his crooks and crannies was the job of intrepid and suicidal adventurers. Exploring beyond? Pure lunacy. Several of those loons peered down at sea charts, making copies or twisting a compass to and fro over trade routes and sea lanes.

    Another section of the library held works by dwarves, and the tables in the wing stood at half-height, evenly crewed with the little devils. The shelves here were all metal and bellows sucked the air straight up, because to try and get a dwarf to extinguish his pipe while he¡¯s working is to go down to the docks and try to drink the sea through a reed. All the warnings in this wing were on the doors leading out. Mostly it contained treatises on trade, engineering, and construction. for such fat-fingered little ruffians, they were amazingly keen with their hands.

    I wondered if this was what the Golden Elf library had looked like in its heyday. With more golden-haired elves and fewer, well, anyone else, really. Not much for making friends, were the elves. Big on making corpses and society-ending mistakes, though.

    The restored and recovered works department was a bit past that, up two sets of stairs, down a narrow hall, and tucked into a claustrophobic wing where I saw scribes painstakingly copying manuscripts over via quill, ink, and much cursing. Others carefully glued ancient pages within new bindings. Some just dozed at their tables; their unending work momentarily halted by bodily demands. Most of them had beards long enough to trip over, stained with splotches of ink and hands like Master Hedwin that, while having the appearance of withered willow twigs, were deft and precise. These were career clerks.

    Having copied only fifteen to twenty pages in my life to give to Hawkley, I couldn¡¯t imagine a more sinister depth of hell in which to wallow. My hands cramped just thinking about sitting here day in, day out, hunched over an inkwell and blotter.

    ¡°Excuse me, young man, may I help you find something?¡±

    I turned at the voice, which was much younger than I¡¯d expected, but whose owner was still much older than the furtive tone would suggest. It belonged to a woman of Annalisa¡¯s height, but with a great tangle of brown curls framing a mousy face and a pair of large half-moon spectacles. Her face was youthful in expression but had the worry lines at her eyes and mouth that suggested forty summers of fretting. It sounded instantly familiar, in the same way that everyone feels as though they recognize my face.

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    ¡°Are you Lady Pelladine?¡± I asked.

    She smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose. ¡°That honor is indeed mine.¡± she wrung her hands as her eyes slid down to the satchel at my side. Her toes started to tap with ¡°Do you have it?¡±

    I unclasped my satchel and withdrew a the sailcloth-wrapped book. Lady Pelladine didn¡¯t quite manage to hide her sharp inhale at the sight of it. I pulled the other copied pages out, as well. ¡°I have two other volumes that might interest you,¡±

    Lady Pelladine waved that idea off, her eyes never leaving the book in my hand. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve no interest in matters of the Wills, any longer. Perhaps the academy library. Please, may I?¡±

    I handed the book over, expecting her to open it on the spot. Instead, she turned and began to make her way down the narrow aisles while I struggled to keep up. The recovered works department was like a maze of twisting corridors and stacks of books, but Lady Pelladine navigated unerringly to a small bench where she retrieved a set of gloves, a small mask, and a small box of what looked like jewelers tools. Again, she tottered on to a small side room with a strong smokeless lantern spotted directly down on a work bench, where she donned the gloves and carefully unwrapped the book.

    As she put on the mask, I began to wonder if I ought have taken better care of these books than shoving them unceremoniously into an adventurer¡¯s stolen bag. Then she did something somewhat worrying, and took a lump of chalk from her kit and etched a spell circle onto the surface of the bench. I felt traces of magic stir as she drew.

    ¡°You¡¯re a mage?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Mmm, yes,¡± she said as she worked. She glanced back. ¡°And unless I miss my mark, which I rarely do, you are as well.¡±

    ¡°Not enough of one to recognize what you¡¯re making.¡±

    She peeled back the last layer of canvas from the cracked, black leather binding on the book before grabbing a pair of calipers and using them to gently lift open the cover. She allowed herself a sharp intake of breath. Inside, a rough illustration of a many-tentacled beast led me to believe this was some sort of elven bestiary, though why the Wills thought it important, I couldn¡¯t say. I had painstakingly copied the next five pages and a few of the diagrams.

    ¡°It¡¯s a circle of protection,¡± she explained. She ran a gloved finger over the tight lines of text.

    ¡°To keep the book from being damaged?¡± I asked.

    Her eyes scanned back and forth over the first page. ¡°What state was this book in when you found it? How was it being kept?¡±

    ¡°I found it in a locked display case with the glass smashed in,¡± I said. I neglected to mention that I had been the one to smash the glass. I have a feeling from her raised eyebrow that I hadn¡¯t needed to.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve any formal training at all, you should be able to spot that this circle points in. It¡¯s a good thing you cannot read Gilder. Most books can be read safely. Some will read you right back.¡±

    I shivered. Yes, definitely should have taken better care of the book. ¡°Why would you even want something like that?¡±

    ¡°Call it a preoccupation.¡± She turned another page. ¡°The Golds made extensive study of the cults of the abyssal depths and the Bronze Wastes¡ªor rather, the entities they worshiped. They well knew that to transcribe knowledge of a trans-dimensional thing was to transcribe part of the thing itself.¡± she tapped the page. ¡°These creatures are the ultimate wayfinders, able to cross worlds as you or I might cross from one room into another. They are capable of things our minds cannot even conceive. Tell me, were there others in this case?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯d all rotted away,¡± I said.

    Her eyes fell. ¡°Of course. That you found this at all is astounding. Pristine works of the Golds are rare enough. That you should find work of this subject in particular? Those in my circles have sought works like this for years, lad. Years.¡±

    ¡°Your circles?¡± I asked, wary.

    ¡°Dedicated collectors of lost lore. I¡¯ve hired scouts and delvers on occasion, myself. But many of these works were lost, and even more were intentionally destroyed. History was destroyed! When I saw those pages you transcribed, I could scarce believe my eyes.¡±

    ¡°So, then, you want it? What¡¯s the going rate for priceless elven works?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer as she continued looking. I took that silence as a resounding yes. I waited for her to finish poring over the book and close it.

    ¡°I can write you a chit for fifty to take to the Kelier & Thorne branch bank on Cobble and Toplet.¡±

    The dragons in my deck wanted more. The towers just wanted¡­ gone, for some reason. The book, the library, and the librarian all put them on edge for some reason.

    ¡°Sixty, and I want a copy of the translation.¡±

    Lady Pelladine looked as though she¡¯d sucked on a lemon. Her eyes darted back and forth. ¡°This is knowledge I don¡¯t want leaving the repository, young master. The Golds kept it under glass and key for good reason. No copies.¡±

    I noticed she didn¡¯t mention the price. I edged my hand toward the book. ¡°Then don¡¯t let me walk out with this.¡± I made to take it, and she gasped and reached out. I stopped, having gotten my point across. ¡°I¡¯m sure there are other parties who are more amicable.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯d want it anyway. Mmm¡­¡± she chewed on one of her nails, debating. ¡°Perhaps¡­ no. Mmm. You can view the translation, here, under supervision¡ªstrict supervision¡ªonce I¡¯ve finished it. But I insist that you burn any additional pages you¡¯ve copied. I don¡¯t want this getting out.¡±

    I took a chance. ¡°Is that because this book has something to do with Margot Bethane?¡±

    Lady Pelladine¡¯s eyes nearly broke through her spectacles with how widely they bulged. ¡°I don¡¯t want that name spoken in these halls!¡± she hissed. She looked about, as though someone might hear, and began to chew her fingernails again. She reached into her pocket, but drew it out empty, which seemed to agitate her even more. Strange woman. But she definitely knew this book wasn¡¯t on the level. We weren¡¯t so far removed from the fel witch¡¯s reign of destruction that her name didn¡¯t carry a power all its own. Not all of her underlings had taken the amnesty, after all, and most mages lived in at least a little fear of having a finger pointed at them. I imagine Lady Pelladine lived in a lot of fear, pretty much all the time. I felt a bit bad about swinging that fear like a cudgel at a fussy, but ultimately harmless, librarian. But not as bad as I¡¯d feel missing out on those extra ten cunnings.

    ¡°Mum¡¯s the word,¡± I said. I patted the book cover and pulled out the extra transcribed pages. ¡°And I won¡¯t tell anyone about this, either. I was never here, yeah?¡±

    The royal arcanist began to calm down and nodded to herself. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s how these things often go. I shall contact you through the dwarf, once the translation is finished.¡±

    ¡°Or if you need me to acquire other rare finds,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve a bit of a knack. And it seems there¡¯s good coin in books.¡±

    Pelladine smiled in a way she probably thought was conspiratorial¡ªthough it was better described as barely contained obsession. ¡°Perhaps I could use you. There are one or two other volumes on my list that require a¡­ softer touch.¡± She scribbled out a chit of withdrawal for her accounts¡ªrich people never seem to carry money themselves. They never need it. Credit is enough. Watch me try to buy something on credit. I¡¯d be introduced to the window, heels above head. Lady Pelladine spoke a soft word and her signet ring began to glow. She pressed it to the parchment, adding her credit to the chit.

    I stuffed it into a pocket and offered a slight bow. ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡±

    But out of eyesight, out of mind. The lady already had her nose buried in her notes in a manner not unlike myself. I shrugged and let myself out.

 Chapter 91 - With a Flourish

    Chapter 91 - With a Flourish

    I stopped by the workbenches to borrow one of the old timers¡¯ quill for a moment. The interesting thing about 6¡¯s, is that it¡¯s very easy to make them look like 8¡¯s if they¡¯re written as numerals instead of longform. Lady Pelladine had been in such a hurry that she didn¡¯t even realize she¡¯d be paying me an extra twenty cunnings tip. It¡¯s not as though people like her notice. I doubt she¡¯d even remember how much we agreed on.

    Both the knaves and the dragons hummed with approval as I quit the library and made my way a few streets down to Kelier & Thorn banking. They were a part of the Money-Changers Guild, just like the small shop that had let me the spare room in Barrowdown. While not as grand as the repository, they were very neat and tidy. And cold. Maybe it¡¯s all the cold hard cash providing extra cooling, but every lending bank I¡¯ve ever been inside has been unreasonably and unseasonably cold. K&T¡¯s was no different.

    As soon as I entered, a clerk directed me to the lending desk. When I told him I was here to have a withdrawal chit honored, he looked at me as though my head had transmuted to a block of cheese. But he directed me to the proper place and I whiled away the time in the line by using the four of dragons to guess and confirm both who was secretly armed (every teller and about one in four patrons) and who had the most expensive hat, coat, and boots (all the same person, it turned out, a Makers Guild shipwright).

    The bank also had a robust system of wards. Mostly over the safe boxes and had guards nearly as steeped in deadly accoutrement as the Lamplighters. That¡¯s big money for you. I got a chuckle out of imagining Annalisa bouncing off the pillars, going so crazy with boredom that she caused a scene. That reminded me of how we¡¯d left things, and made me feel like a right moron all over again.

    Annalisa, after these months, really was still a mystery to me. I wondered if there was anyone that really knew her. She had so few friends before we¡¯d met that she threw herself headlong in pursuit of saving a handful of sex-workers from Mother Mayaz because they¡¯d showed her any amount of kindness. Her fighting coach had completely discounted her and used her mainly as a live training dummy for more seasoned fighters, and despite having a family the size of a typical noble¡¯s Winterday feast, I was beginning to wonder if she wasn¡¯t on the outside of that, too.

    Who else did she really have but me? And the reverse was also true. There was no one in Dragonmaw that I trusted like Annalisa, and the fact that I might have damaged that bond with my callous scheming tore me up more than I wanted to admit. I had to make things right. And Annalisa was a woman of action. Words weren¡¯t going to convince her of anything.

    The queue ahead of me eventually thinned, and I stepped up to one of the clerks and presented the chit. He scrutinized it, turned it side to side, and even held it up to the light.

    ¡°This seems to be in order. Do you have an account you¡¯d prefer to transfer this into?¡±

    I huffed. ¡°Do I look like I have an account?¡±

    ¡°I can offer you very reasonable rates, Master...¡±

    ¡°No names, just coin. If you please.¡±

    The clerk quirked an eyebrow at me but vanished into the back for a moment. He emerged with a small box and put it on the counter before me. He looked over my shoulder, and I followed his gaze.

    ¡°What are you looking for?¡± I asked.

    The clerk pursed his lips. ¡°If you wish, Kelier and Thorne can provide transitory security, as well.¡±

    I rolled my eyes as I withdrew my purse. I really didn¡¯t need guild muscle taking a cut just for following me back to Barrow--

    I opened the box.

    I closed the box.

    I looked at the clerk.

    ¡°I assure you, it¡¯s all there. But you can count it if you wish. Eighty flourishes.¡±

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    Eighty flourishes. Nearly a thousand cunnings in gold. More than I¡¯d ever seen in my life. More than I ever expected. A drop in the bucket for Lady Pelladine. I caught myself scowling. How could someone have so much, that they could afford to wave off so much gold on an old book?

    The clerk took in my inability to speak and offered a half smile. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to reconsider an account of deposit?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°That might be prudent,¡± I squeaked. Dragons Above, I could buy a half-dozen dockside warehouses and two ships with this. Of course, half of this was Annalisa¡¯s, by right. I¡¯d never have made it into, or out of, the elven college without my friend.

    The dragons roared in my deck. Who needs friends? We have MONEY!

    Cut and run, whispered the knaves. Live like a king in Azurenon.

    Gods, their feelings had never been clearer than when filtered through a box of gold coins. But the towers also had something to add. A castle without knights is a gate unbarred.

    I sighed and gritted my teeth, pushing the box back. ¡°I need to add a second name to the account.¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir. You¡¯ll need to add a first name, as well.¡±

    I nearly smacked myself. ¡°Yes. Darcent of Stitch Alley. The other is Annalisa of Dunnemarshe.¡±

    The clerk scratched down the names, and then reached under and pulled out yet another box. ¡°Perhaps sir would like to choose a signet with which to mark the account? This will serve to allow access.¡±

    I looked down at the little box, filled with neat rows of wooden rings looking up at me. Each had an ornate carving on a broad, oval base, meant to mark an identity reduced to a smudge of ink or wax. While complex designs, they weren¡¯t any more challenging than carving cards capable of evoking the Wills. Maybe a bit smaller.

    Speaking of Wills, one signet in particular stuck out to me. It was the rose and dagger sigil of the suit of knaves. ¡°That one,¡± I said, pointing. I scratched my chin. ¡°Can you recommend a good whitesmith?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, Master Darcent,¡± he said, scratching down another note on a scrap of parchment and sliding it over. I took it and read the address. ¡°She can be trusted with our signet designs, and she¡¯ll give you a discount if you tell her it¡¯s one of ours.¡±

    Still slightly in shock, I took possession of the wooden ring.

    ¡°So then, how much of this would you prefer on deposit?¡±

    In the end, I put all but two hundred and fifty cunnings back into the bank. I never felt so paranoid walking through the streets of Dragonmaw. Even in the upper city, if I was caught with a sum like that, I wasn¡¯t important enough that the enforcers couldn¡¯t claim it was stolen and relieve me of it. High rank adventurers prowled the upper city street, some as high as truesilver or platinum¡ªranks 8 and 9. I¡¯d been shaken down by them before, while I still went to the academy. My own badge had begun to display half-silver¡ªrank 7, after I¡¯d manifested the Heiress of Dragons. So I could probably get away, but not without causing a scene, and I wasn¡¯t wearing the robe or cravat to help hide my identity. I kept one hand on my deck the entire time.

    The dwarven whitesmith relieved me of forty of those cunnings in exchange for a promise to deliver a pair of more permanent rings to the Mop and Bucket on the following day.

    Somehow, I made it to the Mop unmolested. With a fairly high-profile fight on (not one of ours), most of the denizens of the downs were out and about reveling, so the crowds were nice and thick. Annalisa had gone out as well to partake in the festivities. But I spied Mithra still at the Mop, chatting up a potential customer and touching him in just the right places to make him sweat.

    ¡°Sorry friend, mind if I borrow her for a minute?¡±

    He did. He looked me up and down. Had the look of a minor noble¡¯s get about him. You know, the type that comes to the downs for a bad time and a story to tell his mates about it. ¡°Hey, mister, who do you think you are? Find you¡¯re own piece of¡ª¡±

    ¡°Jacco, he drinks as much as he wants, free, until Mithra comes back.¡±

    His eyes lit up, while Mithra¡¯s narrowed. She pulled me by the elbow into the corner. ¡°We need to have a talk about interrupting me while I¡¯m working. Charity and jealousy are massive turnoffs, you know. Plus he¡¯s not going to perform if he¡¯s had too much to drink. You ever tried to sit on a hand-span of rope?¡±

    ¡°This¡¯ll be quick,¡± I said. I took her wrist and turned her palm upward before dropping the purse into it. Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked down at the little brown bag.

    ¡°That¡¯s not copper, is it?¡±

    ¡°What can you do with two-hundred cunnings?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Treat you to a month of savage delights,¡± she replied.

    ¡°How about paying off the Builders Guild, hiring some soft-steels to finish out the dregs of the Teeth, and helping Jeedle poach some prospects?¡±

    Mithra scrunched up her face. ¡°Not nearly as much fun. That¡¯s a thin spread, no mess. I¡¯ll see what I can shore up.¡±

    ¡°Thanks Mithra,¡± I said, and then startled her by planting a kiss on her cheek. ¡°There¡¯s ten cunning in there set aside, as well.¡±

    ¡°For what?¡± she asked, still somewhat taken aback.

    ¡°For deserving much more and working with much less.¡± I put my hand on the side of her shoulder. ¡°I spoke with Annalisa about that... other matter. She and I are of a mind. We¡¯ll help how we can.¡±

    Mithra stiffened, and then softened. She nodded and put her palm over my hand for a moment before tucking the purse away. Don¡¯t get me wrong, this was still self-preservation. I needed Mithra. And now, as long as we had her secret and her confidence, the red devilborn was in my pocket. She turned back to her patron.

    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± she said.

    I looked past her to the bar and almost did a double-take. A stack of up-ended steins littered the bar in front of a dozing fop who¡¯d already been relieved of his own purse. ¡°That is astounding,¡± I said.

    Mithra shot me a glare.

 Chapter 92 â€“ Old Demons

    Chapter 92 ¨C Old Demons

    ¡°That buck-toothed elf git was back, wager,¡± said Miss Trundi, as I passed on my way to the stairs. I shook my head. ¡°Not now, Miss Trundi.¡± I didn¡¯t want to deal with Threadripper¡¯s demands. The dragons were throwing a fit at handing over all that silver to the care of bankers and Mithra. They were so loud it physically hurt. I still had some of the headache cure the previous mender had left, and that¡¯s where my thoughts headed.

    The dwarf waved a handful of papers at chest-level, which got my attention as the old dwarf woman couldn¡¯t read. I stopped and took them, and quickly recognized my own handwriting. Even in a foreign script.

    ¡°Where did you get these?¡± I asked, but a note scrawled in the margin of one of the pages answered that question clear enough.

    He wants to meet. #4 Crown Ct. at dawn. Bring the books.

    -TR

    So much for Hawkley¡¯s discretion. Ousting Kridick didn¡¯t warrant a meeting with Daggertongue. Toppling the Teeth? Crickets. But copy ten pages from an elven book? Instant invite. I clenched my teeth. Dawn was only a few hours away, and now, despite the promises I¡¯d made to Mithra, and the promises I made to myself, my resolve was going to be tested face-to-face with one of the deadliest puppeteers in Dragonmaw who¡¯d been on the warpath ever since Kridick lost his daughter to the Mayazians.

    And now I knew where she was. I could deliver Lenise on a silver platter and reap the rewards. How much was Daggertongue¡¯s gratitude worth? More than a book to an old spinster, I can say that for safe. I stomped to my office and slammed the door behind me. after dropping the bolt in place, I put the heels of my hands to my forehead and groaned as the Wills rioted in my deck.

    ¡°Shut up, shut up, shut up!¡± I shouted. I pulled the cards from my pocket and dropped them on the desk before collapsing onto my bed. Let them squabble amongst themselves. So often I¡¯d longed to hear them more clearly. Now I wished they¡¯d give me a moment¡¯s peace.  I closed my eyes. I only opened them when I started to hear the soft patter of a summer storm on the large windows above the bed. I stared at the rain plinking off the glass for a time. The moon had tracked across the sky, and I¡¯d lost several hours of wane light. Lightning arced across the sky, forking behind the wane dragons that swam through the clouds above the city.

    Not yet time to head to the upper city to meet with Daggertongue, and not in a hurry to get soaked to the bone, I pushed myself off rat-bed and washed my face off from the pitcher I kept in the cupboard. I didn¡¯t want to go up. But it was necessary¡ªand it was something I had to do without Annalisa. Would I keep faith? Or betray her?

    The Deck of Wills sat on my desk. I pursed my lips and held out my hand, about to call it. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the unusual quiet of the Mop, or maybe having lightning striking in the background just set the kind of mood I needed. I moved across the office and pried up the board concealing my important stash. The blood-soaked deck glared up at me from the cubby. They¡¯d calmed since last I¡¯d seen them. Perhaps the deck¡¯s malevolence had settled, but it struck me more as biding.

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    I reached in and pulled the deck out, unsealing the cards and fanning them out. Both they and I had been marked by the blood of the fel witch. But these were never her cards. The red stains on the cards had soaked into the portraits carved by Bethane¡¯s lieutenant. You can tell a good deal about a seeker by the way they carve Wills. Her lieutenant had short, scratchy lines and shallow embellishments as though carving uncertainly. The faces were angular and pointed. The numbers were how they wrote them in the farmlands southeast of the city.

    I shuffled through them as I carried them over to Kridick¡¯s old desk. The gnarled wood was pitted from many points punctuated with the stab of a dagger or the slam of an axe head. I looked across at the other chair, trying to imagine myself sitting in it the first week I came to the downs. I was no longer that boy. I shuffled and cut the bloodstained deck.

    I steeled myself for the backlash and sent my will into the cards. At first, they barely took notice. But then, like a rockslide, the Wills began to pour out of the deck and assail me from all sides. The deck bulged and warped, cards trying to force themselves out. I threw myself against them, willing them to answer my call. The stack buckled, cards flashing as they forced themselves from order. The entire ensemble threatened to collapse. The noise in my mind was like nothing I¡¯d experienced. Sweat dripped down my face and my jaw ached from clenching my teeth.

    Again, the deck buckled. My own will nearly fractured, and the cards spread out, nearly escaping my desk until I put out a hand and froze them in mid-air. They fought to escape, to scatter into blood-soaked chaos. The dragons raged with primeval fury. The knaves whispered of dark deeds to be visited. The towers simply feared. They tried to shut me out, build a wall to bar me from sensing them at all.

    One mote of light in the dark swirl of the Wills caught my attention, and I nearly lost the whole stack as I focused on it. It grew brighter, surrounded by the swirling chaos of the deck¡ªperfectly balanced and holding steady as a lighthouse guiding me to shore. I reached out in my mind, as well as with my hand, and felt a card slide into it.

    Without hesitation, I evoked it. Suddenly, the chaos of the bloodstained deck revealed itself for a complex pattern, one that I could never have hoped to comprehend. But seeing the path of each individual Will spiraling through the ether, trying to force their way through the cards and away from the cards in equal measure, I could countermand it¡¯s every attempt to subvert my wishes. And in doing so, I realized the true nature of its malevolence.

    This deck had scared me for so long. I¡¯d been terrified by its malice, by its danger. But now, I could see that this deck was, itself, terrified. It would kill me, if I let it, but it would do so out of cowardice. The kind of fear that drives a man to spring with a dagger in hand or build a castle and raise an army to stand between him and his assassin. Not the confident malevolence of a once-in-a-generation witch talent, but the sniveling sycophant that shadowed her footsteps and huddled in her long shadow. I understood.

    Through the blood of Margot Bethane that bound me to these foreign cards, I poured out my own callous disregard, my own will to stand unopposed. I was no fel witch, but I wasn¡¯t a cowering schoolboy anymore, either. I met my enemies head on (at least, when I couldn¡¯t avoid it). I didn¡¯t need to dominate this deck. I needed to offer it a new shadow in which to hide. These furtive carvings sought, before all else, strength. The chaos stilled, and the cards slowly slid back into the stack¡ªall except the one in my hand.

    The three of storms.

    I could hear its whispers, it¡¯s desire to rearrange and understand the motion and flow of things. It had let me see the pattern behind the chaos. And it was mine, now.

    I slid the card back into the deck and made to do a reading. But the bonding had fatigued me, and this time the bloodstained deck flew apart. My lame attempt to reassert order barely slowed it. I sighed and began to sweep the cards together. It was still progress.

 Chapter 93 - Daggertongue

    Chapter 93 - Daggertongue

    With dawn approaching, I donned my robe and cravat and headed for the upper city. I passed Annalisa, slumped asleep at the bar atop a pool of frozen spittle, in which her cup, a handful of copper clips, as well as her face, were firmly lodged. The precipice flickered between her horns, sputtering like a dying candle¡ªno doubt a result of her loss in confidence in me. Or perhaps a reflection of my indecision. I hefted the sailcloth bag and ducked out.

    The rain hadn¡¯t let up, and I tucked the elven book beneath my arm and pulled my hood against the summer storm. Even treated against the weather, the driving patter would soak me to the bone.

    Unless¡­

    I drew the two of towers from my deck and charged it with my will. Rain began to slough off my outer layers. I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold the enchantment all the way to the upper city, so I just had to hope the storm broke before then. These summer squalls rarely lasted longer than an hour or two. I splashed my way uphill toward the middle city, and then on to the estate district where the address Threadripper had supplied me was located.

    I made good time. The streets were less crowded than usual, with people finding ample reason to be inside and out of the weather. Whatever Daggertongue wanted with the book, it better be worth it. And somehow, I doubted he was calling me up to spill a thousand cunnings out of his purse like Lady Pelladine had done. The two probably couldn¡¯t be more dissimilar.

    I was right that I couldn¡¯t hold the stoneskin for a full hour, let alone the extra half of one it took me to reach the upper city. Unfortunately, I was also wrong about the storm¡¯s duration. The end result is that I made it to the upper city in record time, soaked to the bone, and drenched in clammy sweat from the uphill trudge, to boot.

    Since I had a few minutes, I popped into a public house near my destination to see if there was an opportunity to dry out by a fire. It was one I hadn¡¯t seen before, tall and dark with wrought-iron workings and dark glass windows. Stone steps led up to a door beneath a hanging sign. Literally, the sign had a man etched, hanging by his ankle. The name beneath read The Last Request. Cheery.

    I dripped my way over to the hearth and tossed my dripping robe up onto the mantle. Only then, did I notice I wasn¡¯t alone. An elf sat in a high-backed chair near the hearth, glass of wine in his hand, muddy boots crossed on his ottoman. He watched me, eyes narrowed, in a way that left me feeling quite exposed, if I¡¯m being honest.

    The barmaid came by with a dry cloth and took my order (tea and stew) and my coin in advance before returning to the kitchen. This was an upper city haunt, and it was clear I was someone who ought show coin upon ordering. I mopped off my face, hair, and chest with the cloth while I stood by the fire. The sailcloth bag with the book in it, fortunately, had maintained its integrity. I lifted the flap and checked that the linen underneath was dry¡ªon the off-chance Daggertongue actually offered me as much as the noblewoman from the repository.

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    I saw the elf¡¯s eyes following the satchel as I replaced the flap. But he still hadn¡¯t said anything, and I wasn¡¯t much in the mood for conversation, so I put the cloth down on the chair furthest from my silent observer and took a seat by the hearth. Before I knew it, a steaming mug had been set in front of me, and I took a sip.

    The fire in the hearth flared from a gust, sending long shadows sprawling and reaching. I held my hand against the sudden brightness and the blowing ash. What¡¯s more, I felt a tinge of magic in the air. Those grasping shadows weren¡¯t illusions. And the stranger was suddenly in the chair next to mine. There was a Deck of Wills in his one hand, and the Prince of Demons in the other.

    I shot to my feet, hand going to my pocket where my own deck lay.

    ¡°Your tea is getting cold, seeker,¡± the elf admonished.

    I looked around. No one else seemed to have noticed¡ªnot that the house was packed. A few early morning risers and some who would soon be seeking their beds. I kept my hand near my deck and returned to my chair. Just my luck I¡¯d bumbled into another Soul Seeker. I sat, and the elf picked up his wine. He idly shuffled his deck with the other hand. Despite his trick with the demons, it was a dragon that burned above his head. Scratch that, it was the dragon, Alkazarian. So solid I felt as though I could reach out and pluck it form his brow.

    ¡°We find a queer thing, this chance meeting,¡± said the elf. ¡°You see, if there¡¯s one thing more detestable than a man who makes an appointment tardy, it¡¯s one who arrives prematurely. I don¡¯t enjoy¡­ people, I should say. Especially before they¡¯re welcome. Tell me, why did you come in this establishment?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m part moth,¡± I said.

    The elf quirked his head.

    ¡°The light was on.¡±

    The elf¡¯s eyes narrowed further, becoming slits so tight you¡¯d swear he was asleep if you couldn¡¯t feel the weight of his disdain crushing down. His hand stilled on his deck and he had the stillness of a predator as he watched me. In all the adventures in the undercity and fights with guild enforcers and adventurers and sharks, I never felt closer to danger than I did at that very moment.

    ¡°Have you ever seen a moth fly too close to the flame?¡± he asked.

    I stared at the elf, because something deep in the primal part of my brain felt that if I took my eyes off him for a moment, it would be my last moment. Those creeping shadows that had escaped from the hearth began to slide across the floor, pooling underneath my glowering companion.

    Without averting my eyes, I slipped the linen-wrapped book from the sailcloth bag. ¡°Did you want to look at this or not?¡±

    The shadows and the sense of doom withdrew, and the elf was suddenly sipping his wine. His deck was nowhere in sight. I felt like I needed that cloth I was sitting on, because I was sweatier now than I had been when I¡¯d walked in.

    Daggertongue held his hand out, and I put the books in it. I sensed I¡¯d passed some sort of test¡ªbeing that I was still alive. He set the volumes on his lap and peeled back the linen to reveal the green leather of the book within. He casually flipped open the cover and looked down at the first few pages. No gloves, no circle of protection.

    ¡°This is all that remains, then,¡± he said. ¡°The rest of it is choking the middle city. Tell me, did you burn it all?¡±

    How did he know? ¡°It was that or lose it to Mother Mayaz. We beat her there by hours, at most.¡±

    Daggertongue nodded. ¡°Good,¡± he said. And then he tossed the books into the hearth.

    I shot to my feet and stared at the crisping pages. I reached for it, but the dry tome was as good as any tinder. The fire roared and snapped, sending off purple flames from the strange inks and elven paper.

    ¡°Look closely, little moth, how I must finish your job once again.¡±

 Chapter 94 - Proper Instruction

    Chapter 94 - Proper Instruction

    Daggertongue watched my shock and horror with undisguised amusement. I reached for the poker to try and fish the volume from the coals, but the elven work was gone.

    I turned and scowled at Daggertongue. He merely swilled his wine and tapped his forehead. ¡°If I wanted that knowledge outside of here and in the world at large I¡¯d have liberated it myself. Or reproduced it. As a fact I¡¯ve taken pains to ensure that very thing doesn¡¯t happen, and here I find my own lackey out trying to sell these secrets to anyone with a handful of coins. There¡¯s value in being the only one to know a thing, Darcent of Stitch Alley.¡±

    My blood ran cold. ¡°How do you know who I am?¡±

    He leaned forward. ¡°That¡¯s not all I know. Tell me, boy, what is it you see burning above my brow?¡±

    Alkazarian.

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    A cruel smile crept across the elf¡¯s face. ¡°A poor liar. I know who and what you are.¡±

    Name yourself.

    ¡°And it¡¯s not the chosen one,¡± said Daggertongue. I sputtered. Daggertongue pouted out his lower lip. ¡°Or did Margot Bethane¡¯s visit put you in a mind that you were someone who mattered? I told her as much. That it was pointless. That you were not useful¡ªnot yet, anyway. She chose to visit you regardless and it proved her undoing." He took a sip of his wine. "Useless without proper instruction, in any case. Oh, what¡¯s the matter, child, devil got your tongue?¡±

    I said nothing. But Daggertongue didn¡¯t need my words. He had a deck full of demons, and he fanned his cards for a quick reading, before nodding.

    ¡°Come with me. We have an appointment.¡±

    He got up, and I noticed the staff was quick to stay out of his way as he made his exit from the pub. I scrambled to grab my robe and fall in step behind him. Dawn had almost crested the rise to the east, and the wane dragons were beginning to fade into the morning light. Mages would be getting their full suite of powers back for the day, and Daggertongue strode with purpose.

    ¡°What are the downs?¡± he asked.

    ¡°A festering pile of violence, disease, and carrion.¡±

    ¡°And is that what you wish for? To be a king of carrion?¡±

    I considered. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°You want more. It¡¯s natural.¡± He pointed up the hill. ¡°What¡¯s up there?¡±

    ¡°The estates of the highlords of Dragonmaw. The Kestus Sisters, the Tarbot family, the Masked Lady of the Deep Delve Consortium,¡± I eyed the elf, ¡°and Lord Gillis Guifoyle, among others.¡±

    ¡°Among others,¡± Daggertongue nodded. ¡°About a dozen others, in fact.¡±

    I thought I had a pretty good idea which one Daggertongue was. He continued, ¡°Your greed and your ambition could put you among them. You have the potential. You have power, you have the will, and you¡¯re not afraid to seize what you believe should be yours¡ªthe essence of being dragon-courted.¡±

    ¡°The guild saw being dragon-courted as a curse,¡± I said.

    We arrived¡ªnot at one of the estates, but at a non-descript office. The guard on duty, a truesilver-ranked adventurer, straightened at our approach. He nodded to Daggertongue and let us pass. Inside, the office was lavishly furnished in dark ochre wood from south of the Strait of Kings. The main room split off, and I smelled breakfast cooking somewhere down the hall, while two tamed zephyrs dusted the shelves holding all manner of curios. Daggertongue led me to a staircase, and I inwardly groaned as we climbed up three flights after I¡¯d already climbed to the upper city.

    He held out his hand toward a door at the end of the hall, and I felt a twinge of good, old-fashioned sorcery. There was a heavy, mechanical click, and the double-door split down the middle to reveal a high-roofed office with tight corners, lots of shadows, and a fire already stoked in the hearth.

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    ¡°The Seeker¡¯s Guild turns dragon-courted into a curse,¡± said Daggertongue. He strode to his desk and uncorked a bottle of wine that waited in a chilled decanter. ¡°Stifling, stilted, rigid institution. It has its uses, to be sure. But sorcery isn¡¯t like letters. It has never been a one-size-fits-all affair. You can¡¯t industrialize it,¡± he shook his head. ¡°No matter how many times I must re-teach myself that lesson over the centuries. Least of all those that require adversity to achieve breakthroughs. The entire point of a structured education is to remove the very concept of adversity.¡±

    He moved to a well-worn chair and settled into it, gesturing to a much less comfortable chair opposite it. ¡°Unless you have a different view of the Soul Seeker Academy?¡±

    ¡°It turned out that almost everything the Guild told me about my suits was wrong,¡± I admitted. ¡°I feel like my true education didn¡¯t begin until I left the academy.¡±

    Daggertongue shook his head, tutting to himself. ¡°Three years, wasted. Three years lost¡ªdespite my best efforts, I couldn¡¯t touch you.¡±

    I considered. ¡°Wait, if I¡¯m not some chosen one like Margot Bethane said, why do you even care?¡±

    He quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Besides the fact you have the potential to become a skilled sorcerer? Perhaps then that the fel witch went into your home and you somehow emerged alive. Should that not be enough? I knew her. Powerful does not begin to describe her. She was a force of nature, a once-in-a-generation storm whose like I haven¡¯t seen in hundreds of years.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you followed her?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Does that allegiance bother you?¡± asked Daggertongue.

    ¡°No,¡± I lied.

    ¡°Liar. But I digress. We all follow someone, boy. Even Bethane served, in her fashion. But where it concerns you, the focus of prophecy is not the only role to play. We need not speak of that now. What you want, is to know about my relationship to Bethane.¡±

    Daggertongue got up, moved over to the balcony, and looked out at the city. He sighed. ¡°Elves live in cycles. I was born among rags and rats. The Golds had waged war on Azurenon for four decades and left the city little more than ruin and disease. There I wallowed for five-hundred years before coming into my talent. A gift for seerage and sorcery made me rich for one thousand years, then poor for a thousand years more as the world changed around me and those who could read the Wills were cursed and spit upon. I scraped together enough silver for a ship to Dragonmaw, where my sole ambition was to spit on the bones of the Golds¡ªonly to find the city had been remade, twice, since the orcs marched down from the Cauldron. And so, I scraped and scratched, amassing a meager fortune¡ªusing an old elven investment trick, which I traded to a lich for a handful of silver. But it was never enough. Not until the Fel Witch came.

    ¡°Bethane was a means to an end¡ªa plow unyielding, from behind which I could take my due without recompense. I could use whatever means I wished, no matter the cruelty or rigid binding of law. I did not mind her wanton destruction because I was not in her path but instead at her side, picking up pieces to re-arrange them according to my design. When I¡¯d collected all that I wanted, I found that too much of the world was now mine to let her continue destroying it. I betrayed her, slaughtered her lieutenants, and left her to her fate.¡±

    He huffed, musing to himself, for a moment with his chin couched between his finger and thumb. ¡°I dare say I killed more of her inner circle than all the adventurers in Dragonmaw combined. Yes¡­ I think that is so.¡±

    ¡°The Adventurer¡¯s guild ought issue you a badge,¡± I said, in part to distract myself from the fact this man had stood toe-to-toe with some of the most dangerous people ever to live in the city, and to a man had put each of them in the ground. Or, at least, splattered them across it.

    Daggertongue barked a laugh. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m a regular hero, aren¡¯t i? And thanks to the amnesty, I kept most of what I took for myself. I expect I shall be flush for another millennia, if I manage to survive it. Bethane¡¯s plans live on, you see. As do her most persistent followers.¡±

    I leaned forward. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you finish the job then?¡±

    Daggertongue shrugged. ¡°To what end? They were scattered, broken. What she sought to hasten, in truth is still inevitable.¡± He turned, the Alkazarian card still burning on his brow. ¡°But now voices once quiet have discovered your involvement¡ªdespite my best attempts to keep you shielded. If I had any doubts, they were shattered when you accessed a library blocked by more than simple stone. But I¡¯ve worked too hard, gained too much. And I¡¯ll be damned if I let that moldy old bitch take what¡¯s mine from within the ground where her skull grins at naught but the roof of her coffin. No¡­ it simply won¡¯t do. And I can¡¯t simply leave you to your own devices when it comes to your training. I¡¯ll be taking a direct approach, from now on.¡±

    He came back inside and traversed behind his desk. A curved bookshelf¡ªapparently on rails, as he slid a section to the side to reveal a second collection behind¡ªdominated the entire east wall of the circular room. He tapped his cheek and hemmed for a moment before drawing forth a volume. He handed it to me. ¡°Here. Begin by reading this. Return to me once you¡¯ve done so.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re assigning me homework?¡± I asked.

    ¡°More a continuation of your independent studies,¡± he said. ¡°I did so endeavor to begin undoing the damage the Seeker¡¯s Guild had wrought.¡±

    If I had any doubt in my mind that Daggertongue had a hand in my life before I¡¯d ever heard the name, the book in my hand dispelled it. I looked down at the title.

    Lancaster¡¯s Manual of Wills: Vol 2

 Chapter 95 - Annalisaâ€™s Gift

    Chapter 95 - Annalisa¡¯s Gift

    Very like a highborn to call me up to the upper city just to hand me a book in a twenty-minute meeting before leaving me to trudge back down. Though, if the story was to be believed, he wasn¡¯t born of noble blood. I suppose no one is, really. It¡¯s all about how many people you can convince at the tip of a spear or the business end of a contract. In the end, I managed to keep my trap shut about his daughter. Partly because I¡¯d barely gotten a word in edgewise. Still, the fact that my school bully¡¯s father was my shadowy boss had come as a bit of a shock. You might think I¡¯d have found it something of a relief to discover that the shadowy figure of Daggertongue was, in fact, the father of my academy rival. If anything, I was now even more leery.

    On paper, Highlord Guifoyle, Seat on the Shared Court, was a prominent public figure. Shrewd in business, but generous to the city, he¡¯d set up programs to manage sewage, created an endowment to the Mender¡¯s Guild, built a prominent upper city arena at his own expense, and made regular generous donations to the Lamplighters Guild to keep the city streets if not safe, then at least illuminated enough that you could see most threats coming.

    He was also a prominent servant of the Fel Witch, Margot Bethane. He was a Soul Seeker, a demonologist, and had spent thousands of years living in spite and poverty, and more living in wealth. He dominated his legitimate business interests by applying judicious use of criminal elements under his demesne to leverage his goals. I should know, I was one of them. Not only that, but he¡¯d been grooming me for years¡ªif he was to be believed, since before my fateful encounter with the Fel Witch. It was some small consolation that I¡¯d managed to inadvertently thwart his plans and intentions multiple times, because I had little love lost for the man.

    Regardless of whatever he claimed about parting from her motives, he¡¯d walked in the witch¡¯s footsteps. Even after she¡¯d died, what reason had I to believe he¡¯d departed from their path? Regardless of what he insinuated, that I had the drive to be counted among the highlords, what reason had he to see me as anything but another rival should I climb to such great heights? Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about him. Yet. Even discounting the near-limitless resources at his disposal, Daggertongue himself was a powerful and ruthless mage, and a prominent senior member of both the Soul Seekers Guild and the Shared Court of Dragonmaw.

    The one thing I had on my side was Annalisa. And I¡¯d almost screwed that up.

    The sun had risen during our meeting. It glared down at my left side as I headed down hill. The clouds had finally broken, but all the rain and the backed-up sewage turned to steam on the streets in the oppressive heat. This was a dog day if ever I¡¯d felt one, and I had a pressing need to be back at the Mop with a short beer in my hand alongside breakfast. I circled Cradledown, where the worst of both the smoke and sewage rot rose, trapped in the district by the levies of its neighbors.

    My blue devilborn partner was clearly worse for wear when I made my way back to the Mop. She had her head cradled in her hands at the bar¡ªand for once, she had a steaming mug of tea in front of her, instead of her usual lager. Her low moan sounded a bit like an old house settling after sunset. I sat down next to her and sniffed at the aromatic cup, before tossing a side-eye at Jacco.

    ¡°The first time I wanted tea, you brought me hot water with a flower in it,¡± I said.

    Jacco shrugged.

    ¡°Stop talking so loud!¡± said Annalisa. Dragons above. The prodigious rate this woman consumed alcohol should have caused a shortage, but I¡¯d rarely seen her hungover. She either had a really great time at the pits, or a really foul time.

    Jacco reached under the bar, and I half-expected him to pull out another tepid water with a wilted flower bud, but a small package came out, instead.

    ¡°Dwarf girl dropped this off for you ¡®bout a hour ago,¡± he whispered.

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    I took the small package and saw the mark of the whitesmith I¡¯d engaged the day before. ¡°Ah, perfect. Jacco, give us a minute, yeah?¡±

    The barkeeper made himself scarce, probably grateful to be away from the miserable devilborn.

    ¡°I¡¯m never drinking again...¡± Annalisa crooned.

    I barked a laugh, which made my partner wince and moan even harder. I sighed and pulled out my deck. I charged the three of dragons and pressed it to her shoulder. The look of relief on her face was instant. Her eyes cleared, her spine straightened, and she looked around the bar as if seeing it¡ªand me¡ªfor the first time.

    ¡°Gods Darcent! That¡¯s amazing! You should sell that. You¡¯d make so much money!¡±

    I withdrew my will, and she hunched over again, her face turning more green than blue.

    ¡°Asshole!¡±

    I rolled my eyes and gave it back. I needed her lucid. She shot me a glare as I regarded her.

    ¡°I met with Daggertongue this morning.¡±

    Annalisa stiffened. It was a subtle thing. Even though she didn¡¯t move, her fists tightened and the muscles in her shoulders tensed. She looked at me, eyes narrowed. ¡°Did you...you know?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°No, Anna, you were right. Daggertongue is... well, truth told, I knew he was bad. But he¡¯s worse than I expected. The amount of blood on his hands...¡± I shook my head. ¡°We need him. There¡¯s no way around that. What¡¯s more, we can¡¯t afford him as an enemy. But you¡¯re right that we don¡¯t have to be just as bad. We can¡¯t be. I want it all. But fear and cruelty towards the weak isn¡¯t how I want to get it.¡±

    Annalisa grinned and slugged me in the shoulder. ¡°I knew I picked right!¡± she said. And then, after a moment, ¡°I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to beat you up after all. I like you a lot, Darcent.¡±

    I opened up the little wooden box and withdrew the silver ring with the knave signet on it.

    Annalisa¡¯s eyes widened and some of that green came back, despite the ¡®dragon juice¡¯, as she called it. She held up her palms, as though to stop me. ¡°Not like that! That''s not what I meant! I know we¡¯re lovers and all but that¡¯s like a metaphor! You know what metaphors are, right?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, initially confused. My face reddened when I realized. ¡°Anna, it¡¯s not that kind of ring!¡± I pulled out the other. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve got one too. It¡¯s a signet of access authority for the bank. You can take it and withdraw your half from the undercity loot.¡±

    ¡°Oooooh,¡± said Annalisa. She considered and wrinkled her nose. ¡°Why did you put it in a bank? Of all places, really. I thought you had more sense.¡±

    I lowered my voice. Despite the nearly deserted common room, there were still ears about and discretion is a key part of our operation, as well as one of the best ways to stay secure. ¡°Because I didn¡¯t want to walk through the lower city with sixty flourishes.¡±

    ¡°SIXTY FLOURISHES?!¡± Screamed Annalisa. I winced. Her eyes took on a far-away look. ¡°And half of it is mine?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I already gave a chunk of it to Mithra for operating expenses. But thirty of it is yours and thirty of it is mine.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good, because I owe fifty cunnings to the Lucitans,¡± said Annalisa.

    I closed my eyes and took a breath. Of course she did. I might have to have a word with the high priestess. ¡°Just make sure you take me with you before buying any magic items so I can make sure you¡¯re not getting ripped off.¡±

    Annalisa saluted and held her hand up to the light. ¡°Thirty flourishes each, and we didn¡¯t even have to haul any scat topside. What are you going to spend yours on?¡±

    I considered. ¡°I need to figure out what my biggest weakness is that can be shored up with a magic item. I¡¯m also debating non-controlling stakes in a few trade ships for reliable long-term passive income. And maybe a store or two on the waterfront. More legitimate holdings gives us an advantageous position within the downs, and a fall back if we need to retreat and consolidate.¡±

    Annalisa nodded along sagely, which was a great indication that she had stopped listening already. I sighed. ¡°What are you planning on doing with your half?¡±

    Annalisa grinned. ¡°Well there¡¯s these boots I saw in the middle city that I think would go great with that dress I got¡ª¡±

    ¡°Boots with a dress?¡±

    My devilborn partner rolled her eyes. ¡°Boys don¡¯t know anything about fashion. We¡¯ve established this. Then after that I¡¯ll probably get some polish for my horns because you¡¯re all out and you should really keep better stocked. I¡¯ll probably go out to a really fancy dinner and the Adventurer¡¯s guild has some older assessment golems that you can buy and they¡¯re really good to train against because they put themselves back together and you don¡¯t even have to be a guild member to get them. Maybe I¡¯ll get two. And some new quills and a pen knife, and maybe some ink so I can stop having to borrow yours¡ªI mean...¡±

    ¡°You take my ink?¡± I asked.

    Annalisa flashed me a guilty smile.

    I stood up. ¡°You¡¯ve been adding alcohol to the well so I wouldn¡¯t notice! My journal lines have been getting fainter for weeks. I thought I was going mad!¡±

    ¡°It can be both things,¡± said Annalisa.

    ¡°Not. Helping.¡± I ground out. I couldn¡¯t complain too much, since I¡¯d stolen the ink in the first place. But it was the principle of the thing!

    Annalisa laughed.

 Chapter 96 â€“ Praise Lucita

    Chapter 96 ¨C Praise Lucita

    Having smoothed things over with Annalisa went a long way toward calming my nerves, even if it didn¡¯t solve all our problems. Over the next week, we continued to shore up the shrine of Lucita, and I¡¯d made sure my partner didn¡¯t end up an adherent through debt.

    I followed through with my plans over the next week and purchased shares of several businesses throughout the downs and the lower city. Such things could only be done with a significant lump sum, and the flourishes were in and out probably even faster than Annalisa managed at the tables. I was already providing protection to quite a few of those docks and businesses, but ownership is a different matter entirely. I didn¡¯t want to be just a gang leader.

    With recruiting going up came new problems, as well. Low-rank adventurers not already on the take were starting to notice the Pack of Knaves on the bounty boards. Some of our people had even been swept up. Pit talent was leveraged to protect more of our operations, which included the Mop, three other brothels, two gaming dens, and a smuggler¡¯s wharf with a customs officer who was an indebted patron to the aforementioned brothels and gaming dens.

    Despite being pulled in so many different directions, I found my increased sensitivity to the suit of storms had widened my sense of clarity and made me better able to parse the chaos of the lower city. The whole balancing act hinged on my scheming and Annalisa¡¯s partnership. But calms can only last so long, and you can only prepare so much for the storm to come.

    I went to the shrine early in the evening to check on the new warding. While the church had mostly focused on anti-divination wards to detect and deter cheating (a cardinal sin under Lucitian doctrine), Alondalis had helped me bolster the actual defensive measures present in and around the shrine to something even better than those we had at the Mop and scattered around Barrowdown. The Seekers Guild had already gotten a taste of how effective those measures could be, and they¡¯d yet to come sniffing around the lower city again. I wasn¡¯t looking forward to their next attempt.

    I found the elf in the northeast corner, examining a set of carvings he¡¯d made on one of the outside wall under the careful eye of a shrine paladin.

    ¡°Looks like your arm is mended up,¡± I said. ¡°Barthan take a look at it for you?¡±

    Alondalis stretched the arm that had been in a sling when last I¡¯d seen him. ¡°Indeed he did. Curious fellow. I¡¯ve never seen a mender cast curative charms with one hand.¡±

    ¡°What happened to his other hand?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It was holding a flush, I believe,¡± said Alondalis, tapping his cheek. ¡°Human card games change too rapidly for me to keep up with the rules. I myself was eliminated from the table quite quickly.¡±

    I groaned. All my agents were going to end up wearing Lucita¡¯s colors. I pulled out my black pine deck and drew the three of towers, examining the handiwork around the exterior of the shrine. I could appreciate the elf¡¯s careful hand for carving that suggested a practiced hand belonging to an experienced mage.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Sorry we couldn¡¯t bring up any fertilizer for you,¡± I said, off-hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s of no consequence,¡± said Alondalis. ¡°From what you¡¯ve described, the creature you encountered was likely to be a Voledon Exterminatus. Its fecal matter is much too acidic and low in phosphorus to make good growing beds. In fact, it likely would have eaten through those bags I provided you. Had I known one took up residence there, I would never have recommended a visit.¡±

    ¡°Well, it worked out,¡± I said, thinking about the sealed letters of credit I¡¯d handed over in the past few days. That sudden influx of flourishes had been like a second wind to my efforts. At least I managed to sell one book before Daggertongue torched the others.

    ¡°Indeed. Did you succeed on your other endeavor of finding valuable magic items?¡±

    ¡°Possibly,¡± I said, switching to look at the awareness wards scratched onto the next building on the block. The towers in my deck hummed with satisfaction at such thorough defenses. When the sharks came for Lenise again, they¡¯d have to come in force or get completely rebuffed. Still, the fact they wanted her so bad remained murky to me and the Wills had been confusing when I sought illumination. Could it just be that she was a vulnerable scion of a hated rival? Something told me there was more to it. I just had to wait until Lady Pelladine finished her translation and provided me with a copy. ¡°We found a couple trinkets before we got side-tracked and had to escape from a pair of adventurers who recognized us. I should be hearing back on a pair of appraisals any day now.¡±

    ¡°I shall light a candle in the shrine for your odds,¡± said Alondalis, tapping his scribe along a rune.

    Hopefully we wouldn¡¯t be digging through shit again any time soon. I¡¯d promised Annalisa that if we did another delve, it would be focused on extracting items from monsters before they passed them. And in truth, we¡¯d gained a tangible strength increase, both to ourselves and the Barrow Knaves as a whole, thanks to finding the elven library. Though, if Daggertongue was being forthcoming, it sounded like we shouldn¡¯t have been able to. He hinted at that whole place having some sort of magic seal on it until we managed to break through.

    At the time, when we¡¯d broken through to the Plane of Ice, I¡¯d thought it was because I¡¯d tackled an exhausted Annalisa through a partly-formed portal. I¡¯d dragged her across the threshold, freezing and knowing something was watching us. But maybe she struggled with that portal because of wards against intrusion that the Golds had set on the library long ago.

    The four of knaves hummed in my pocket with subtle heat.

    ¡°Appreciate it,¡± I said, excusing myself. Once I found some privacy a few streets down, I pulled out my deck. ¡°What is it, Mithra?¡±

    ¡°Hello to you, too, Darcent,¡± she sent, along with a twinge of annoyance. ¡°There¡¯s a dwarf here at the Mop looking for you. Nice boots on. Got a package with him.¡±

    ¡°Most people going to the Mop have a package with them,¡± I said. She sent a brief hint of amusement. She was becoming apt at using the card to speak to me through her deviltongue, even over long distances. She was even better at it than Annalisa, and I¡¯d made a few more duplicates so that I could run messages to some of her other contacts in the lower and middle city from time to time.

    ¡°Cute, but this one¡¯s looking for you, and I don¡¯t think he¡¯s into my type,¡±

    ¡°Plane-touched?¡±

    ¡°Women.¡±

    I paused. Mithra generally had a keen intuition when it came to people¡ªthough it didn¡¯t take much in that regard. If they didn¡¯t find her attractive, chances are they wouldn¡¯t find any woman attractive. Still, I only knew one dwarf in fancy boots.

    ¡°That¡¯d be Hawkley, then. I¡¯m on my way.¡±

    ¡°See you soon, lover,¡±

    I didn¡¯t bother to correct her as I severed the bond. She¡¯d been extra friendly after the purse laden with silver that I¡¯d handed her along with a substantial bonus for her to skim. She said that now I was what she called, in the business, a minor leviathan. Someone with just enough money to go broke trying to prove they weren¡¯t. A particularly juicy target for a working woman, with a bottomless purse until their last silver turned out.

 Chapter 97 â€“ Badges and Badgers

    Chapter 97 ¨C Badges and Badgers

    Hawkley had come back with the most enigmatic trinket that had come with us from the Undercity: the mysterious brooch. He handed it to me with some reverence. ¡°Be careful with this one, young master. No one will touch it. It¡¯s a badge of summoning, but what it summons? That bit¡¯s up for debate.¡±

    I tilted my head. ¡°I thought it was a brooch. That¡¯s what Annalisa said, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Did ye hear what I said? Lad! This could summon a mouse, or it could summon a god of the depths! There¡¯s no telling.¡±

    I looked over. ¡°Sorry, I understand. It¡¯s just¡­ she was so certain.¡±

    ¡°Not to be rude, Darcent, but your friend¡¯s idea of fashion is¡­ novel. She wouldn¡¯t know a matching vest and trousers if they stepped into the fighting pits with her. I wouldn¡¯t take what she says as gospel when it comes to accessorizing.¡±

    I took the badge-not-brooch and looked at it. ¡°Thanks Hawkley. Have a drink before you head back up hill. On the house.¡±

    He tipped his hat and made his way to the side of the bar with the high chairs meant for dwarves. Meanwhile, I pulled out the four of knaves and reached out for Annalisa, telling her to meet me on the edge of the unsheathing.

    I made my way east, spotting my partner coming down from the tailors of the middle city. She¡¯d gotten herself a new waistcoat, which looked sharp enough to make me doubt Hawkley¡¯s words. I showed her the badge.

    Annalisa¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Hey! You got it back! Did you find out what it does?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re testing it at the unsheathing.¡±

    She took the badge and held it up to the light. ¡°Does it protect against the glow-steel sickness?¡±

    ¡°No. It summons a creature. And since Hawkley didn¡¯t know which one, I didn¡¯t want to be in a populated area when I tested it.¡±

    ¡°Smart! That¡¯s why I let you do the planning.¡± She thumped one fist into her other palm. ¡°And I¡¯m along in case it¡¯s something we need to stuff back through the brooch, right?¡±

    I didn¡¯t think it worked that way, but technically she was the portal mage, so I didn¡¯t say anything.

    We crossed over into the outer parts of the unsheathing. I pulled out the two of towers and fortified us both. Hopefully that would also ward off any effects of the lingering glowsteel miasma. ¡°Hawkley said it was actually a badge.¡±

    ¡°Hawkley should stick to selling bits of wood and wands and overpriced ink.¡±

    The unsheathings aren¡¯t exactly crowded, but they aren¡¯t exactly empty, either. Monsters tend to find their way up from the undercity where the roads and sewers haven¡¯t been repaired in a few generations. Not to mention the unfortunate pets that wander it and mutate, and the people who do the same. There¡¯s also half-orcs in unsheathings. Remnants of the Teeth had taken refuge in the glow-steel afflicted regions, but there was really only one half-orc left in the city I was worried about. I found an appropriate building and scrawled wards on the four corners to dissuade any attention from passers by both human and otherwise. Then, I ducked inside and fanned out my deck behind me, ready to summon whatever spell the situation required.

    Annalisa began to warm up with a series of kicks and punches, throwing little ¡°ha-ha¡± noises in as she threw each one. Dragons above, she was getting fast. I could barely follow her movements, and her fists could crack bone or brick. Someday I¡¯d have to ask her why she did that little huff with each punch, and why sometimes it was a ¡°ha¡± sound, and sometimes a sibilant ¡°shh¡± noise. But for now, I focused on preparing the summoning. Part of me whispered that this was a bad idea. The much larger part of me that I listened to more often was extremely curious.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    I put the badge on the ground and stepped away, then siphoned power into it. I¡¯m not great with magic outside the deck of wills, but you don¡¯t need much to activate most magic items. Anna stopped her shadowboxing to watch, barely breathing hard.

    The badge rattled on the ground. It vibrated, then began to spin. A ringing filled the air, loud enough to hurt my ears. It sounded like one of those bells you call a clerk with when no one is at the counter, but it was like someone was hitting it over and over, with a hammer. Annalisa covered her ears.

    I cut the siphon of power, but the badge already had everything it needed, apparently. I almost called the two of storms to undo the summoning, but with a pop, a portal opened up, and deposited a writhing mass of cloth and limbs splayed out in all¡ªwait, it was just a guy.

    The two of knaves came to my hand, and I charged it, just in case. Anna had frost glowing on her fists and horns.

    This guy, this¡­ extremely average-looking person, scrabbled around on the floor until he found something. A weapon? No. Just a pair of spectacles. He put them on and stared up at us in alarm.

    ¡°Good Dragons above! Where am I? Who are you?¡±

    Anna raised her fists. ¡°Careful, Darcent! He could be a mage! Don¡¯t let him cast a spell!¡±

    ¡°My name isn¡¯t Darcent! And clearly he¡¯s a mage because he¡¯s just sent me through a portal!¡± the man protested. He ran a hand over his head to smooth down his thinning hair. He looked pale.

    I sighed and leaned down. ¡°I¡¯m Darcent. She was talking to me. Who are you?¡± I took a handful of his robes in my hand. They were fine cut¡ªbut not too fine. Well off, but not noble.

    ¡°I beg your pardon!¡± he said, snatching them back. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you know? You brought me here, after all.¡±

    I offered him a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve at least told you my name. And I¡¯m not going to hurt you.¡±

    ¡°Ah. True.¡± He adjusted his glasses. ¡°Fineous, they call me. Yes.¡±

    He stuck out his hand and I took it, catching the inkstains on his fingertips. I nodded behind him. ¡°My partner over there is Annalisa.¡±

    Fineous straightened his spectacles. ¡°Annalisa of Dunnemarsh? The prize fighter? The Lady Blue?¡± He turned back. ¡°But then that would make you¡­¡±

    ¡°The Barrow Knave,¡± I finished.

    ¡°Oh, crumbs. What do you want with me?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a fair question. Depends on what you can do for us, I suppose. What are you? Wizard? Seeker?¡±

    Fineous deflated. ¡°Nothing so romantic, I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯m a clerk. I work at the city badging office. I issue passes to city properties and inventory customs inspection stamps.¡±

    Badging office? I reached down and collected the badge from the ground. ¡°Do you recognize this?¡±

    His eyes lit up. ¡°That¡¯s my badge! I can¡¯t believe you¡¯ve found it! I paid a huckster penny mage to enchant that badge to always return to me, but the fraud absconded with my silver and I lost this badge down a sewer drain the very next day. Turn it over! The scoundrel even etched his initials on the back, that¡¯s how you can tell it¡¯s mine.¡±

    I could sense the chaotic magics swirling in the badge, much more than the work of a simple penny mage. As Fineous suggested, I flipped it over and read the simple, scratched initials at the bottom corner: K.D.

    Curious. What had happened here? I collected my deck and slid the two of knaves back in, trading it out for the three of storms. I sent my will into my newest card, and the inner workings of the spell linking the badge to the badging officer unfolded in my mind¡¯s eye. Once I realized what I was looking at, I began to laugh. ¡°Oh. I see what happened. A huckster perhaps, but not a powerless one.¡± I scratched my chin. ¡°Actually, I think he must have been a rather powerful practitioner to cast this spell. But he was also sloppy and got it wrong.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± asked Fineous.

    I tapped the badge against his robe. ¡°The enchantment doesn¡¯t return the badge to you. It summons the badger to wherever this badge is.¡±

    ¡°Amazing!¡± said Annalisa.

    ¡°Not amazing!¡± crooned Fineous. ¡°I want my money back!¡±

    ¡°I have to agree with Fineous,¡± I said, blunting Annalisa¡¯s enthusiasm. ¡°Imagine if we¡¯d gotten desperate enough to use it in the undercity.¡±

    The clerk paled even further, biting the tip of his thumb and hem-hawing. ¡°Ooh, this is horrid. Can I at least have my badge?¡± He held out his hand. I quickly pulled the badge away.

    ¡°Slow down there, Fin. You said you issue passes to city properties?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I would never¡ª¡±

    ¡°Before you answer, bear in mind we can use this to summon you anywhere.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Anywhere.¡±

    He gulped and looked between myself and the badge. ¡°Where, pray tell, are you intending to go?¡±

 Chapter 98 â€“ Cross Training

    Chapter 98 ¨C Cross Training

    Fineous wasn¡¯t a bad guy. And we had definitely inconvenienced him by summoning him from his office in the upper city all the way to the unsheathing in the middle of the night. I felt genuinely bad about that. But I didn¡¯t feel bad about the forged Royal Arcanists seal, or the two city-issued undercity passes that arrived at the Mop three days later, just before I headed up to the upper city for a lesson with Daggertongue. Not that I fancied a repeat delve anytime soon, but I did want to inspect the quality of his work. Impeccable, though it wasn¡¯t even technically a forgery.

    ¡°But why can¡¯t I go with you?¡± demanded Annalisa.

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t trust Daggertongue,¡± I said, plainly.

    Annalisa threw her hands up. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I should go!¡±

    ¡°Just hold still,¡± I said, concentrating on the cards in my hand.

    After using the deviltongue to communicate over long distance, I¡¯d been experimenting with duplicates of other cards as well. This particular instance, I was putting a tiny part of my will into a spare two of towers and also a three of dragons. Ever since speaking with the Heiress, my affinity with the suit of dragons had increased to the point that I no longer found the energy siphon of the card to be a drain, and could maintain both it and the stone skin almost indefinitely. Now, I wanted to see how far I could maintain the link. And part of that experiment meant leaving Annalisa in the lower city while I went up the hill.

    Unfortunately, the three of dragons also unclouded her mind, and she raised a salient point. I tucked the two active cards into her blouse pocket next to her stolen adventurers guild badge.

    Annalisa huffed. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll just go to the shrine and visit Mithra.¡±

    ¡°And¡­¡±

    The huff turned into a drawn-out sigh. ¡°And¡­ pay back the debt I owe to the shrine.¡±

    ¡°And¡­¡±

    Annalisa grabbed her horns in frustration. ¡°And¡­ not play anymore table games.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I should feel it on my end, but let me know if and when the evocations drop¡±

    My partner saluted and spun on her stool. I pushed back from the bar and downed the rest of my tea. Passing the rest of the girls, I started to make my way out of the main room of the Mop when Miss Trundi waved me over.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.

    She looked around, reserving a special glare for the usual crowd of card players in the corner, before lowering her voice. ¡°One of the girls says there¡¯s a half-orc in the upper city asking after you,¡± she warned.

    I frowned. ¡°One of Teeth remnants?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Someone from outside Dragonmaw. Big¡¯un, carries a stick with him.¡±

    It was my turn to frown. ¡°What does he want with me?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know. But I¡¯m sure you did something what to rankle is his locks. You being you, and all.¡±

    That was hardly fair. I felt like I did a good job at pissing off less than half the people I¡¯d met. But between Kridick, Zarry, and the Teeth, I wasn¡¯t exactly the most popular guy with the half-orcs in the city. Luckily, the Teeth were being boxed out by the former runners of Kindledown, and Kridick was still hiding in the unsheathing.

    I excused myself and headed out and up the hill.

    ¡°SO FAR SO GOOD!¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Annalisa¡¯s voice booming in my mind was jarring and caused me to flinch in the street. I reached out to the four of knaves in her pocket with the other cards. ¡°Anna, I¡¯ve only just left.¡±

    She flashed me the mental image of two thumbs up, and I sighed. Maybe giving her increased mental clarity wasn¡¯t necessarily a good thing all the time. Still, being able to maintain the subtle boons for extended periods was a good exercise that would only improve my own focus over time and increase my attunement to the bloodstained deck.

    The sun was still easing down from its zenith as I made my way to Daggertongue¡¯s haunt in the upper city. I wondered about this half-orc, but not as much as I felt apprehension over the coming lesson. I didn¡¯t know what the old elf had in store for me, but I knew that he didn¡¯t approve of ¡®traditional classroom methods¡¯ for exercising the inverted suits of the deck of wills.

    When I got to the darkened pub, I realized I must be correct¡ªbecause all tables had been pushed to the walls, and the staff was nowhere to be seen. Just walking past the threshold gave me a sense of unease that crept down my spine like an oily, black slick. This hadn¡¯t been the coziest pub, before. But now, the hostility was palpable, and a tangible hatred probed at me from the shadows. Daggertongue himself reclined in the corner with his drink and a sheaf of papers, not bothering to look up on my arrival.

    ¡°Lock the door,¡± he called out. ¡°It won¡¯t do to have some poor fool interrupt your lesson. I¡¯ve enough blood on my hands.¡±

    I did as he asked, keeping my hand close to my deck as I stepped down on the locking peg.

    Daggertongue cast the papers across the floor, where they spun out onto the tiles. ¡°You¡¯ve been busy since we last spoke. From where came this sudden infusion of funds, I wonder?¡±

    At my feet lay the bills of sales from several of the commercial projects I¡¯d bought interests in since selling the book to the arcanist woman. I picked up the bills and looked over them, scanning through the waterfront properties and businesses.

    It didn¡¯t take long to figure out what had happened. ¡°These were your properties,¡± I said. And I was in his pocket. My mouth twisted into a grimace. ¡°They¡¯re still your properties,¡± I said.

    The shadows of the room expanded, reaching towards me, and all of a sudden I found myself standing next to Daggertongue¡¯s table.

    ¡°This foolish exercise in redundant efforts. Why do you persist in it?¡± he demanded.

    I saw no reason to lie. ¡°I want my future secured. I want the downs secured, and I want the Knaves secured.¡±

    Daggertongue scowled. ¡°That¡¯s the towers talking. Always furtive, always fortifying. And for what? It¡¯s a waste of time, as is your silly little gang. Why do you need the downs? Why do you need a petty gaggle of pit fighters and whores at your beck and call? Are you not more than the lot of them, combined?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± I hesitated. But, unwilling to show weakness in front of the most dangerous elf in Dragonmaw, I forged on. ¡°I can¡¯t be everywhere. I can¡¯t do everything. At some point, I need people.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Daggertongue. He pressed his fingertips to his chest. ¡°I need people. I make deals, trade secrets, play both sides, and crush my enemies with the quill and the ledger as much as with the deck. You? You¡¯re a disaster. A walking, talking sea storm heralded by a devilborn siren. What good is your organization when you could sweep them aside by your own hand? What can your entire crew do that is outside your own grasp?¡±

    ¡°Grow,¡± I said.

    Daggertongue shot to his feet, so quick that his chair rocked back and tipped. He slammed his fist down on the table. ¡°Have I not said that I¡¯ve handled that? Why do you insist on this folly? Perhaps once you needed them, but now these leaches are an anchor around your neck, sucking you dry as they pull you down to the dredged depths of the harbor with their petty needs. You¡¯ve grown beyond their limits, and you¡¯ll grow still¡ªwithout them. I am trying to prepare you for what¡¯s to come, boy.¡±

    What was to come? ¡°So, I¡¯m supposed to just cast them to the wind?¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes!¡± Daggertongue spread his hands. ¡°Keep them under your thumb if you wish, but you are no errand boy for them. Stop acting like one! You want power? Status? Don¡¯t sow and water it, boy. Take it. It¡¯s your right.¡±

    It was alarming how readily the knaves and dragons in my deck echoed his sentiment. I scowled. The barb-tongued old bastard probably said it in just such a way on purpose. And the truth was, I did feel run ragged with the constant fires cropping up across the lower city. I had been meditating on the wills less and less as my other responsibilities grew and an ever-expanded roster of allies demanded my time and attention. But I don¡¯t think I could use and discard people like Daggertongue. In truth, I didn¡¯t know what to do.

    I straightened, about to speak. But Daggertongue held up a hand and pulled out his own deck of wills. ¡°You¡¯ve wasted enough of this lesson, already. You will learn your own strength, boy, or you¡¯ll die from the wanting of it.¡±

    That shadowy, hateful presence that I¡¯d felt when I first entered congealed, becoming an almost physical heat against my back. I flinched, and spun around as an amorphous, black form dropped from the ceiling, sprouting limbs at odd angles. Mouths opened across its body, and several eyes opened, fixing on me with palpable hunger and disdain.

    The blood drained from my face and every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I¡¯d seen this creature before.

    It was the one that had crawled out of the sewer the night we chased the sharks back to Mother Mayaz¡¯ charnel house hideout.

 Chapter 99 - Familiar Threats

    Chapter 99 - Familiar Threats

    ¡°Your familiar?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°My bound demon,¡± acknowledged Daggertongue. He smoothed his vests and reclaimed his chair, whisking it upright with a snap of his fingers. ¡°And you would not believe, nor condone, the price paid to gain its service.¡±

    The demonic creature moved toward me, new mouths forming and wrestling with each other to chomp at me like fish at the docks competing for a dropped morsel, until it recoiled in either shock or pain. Some invisible force held it at bay. I risked a glance back toward the elf lord, who held a card out, face toward the demon. I couldn¡¯t see what it was from my angle.

    As though reading my mind, Daggertongue continued. ¡°The bars of its cell are an invention of its own consciousness. It is held back only by its incapability of defying its own uttered words¡ªfor to lie, is for its mind to break.¡±

    ¡°The other shared court lords would have you drawn and quartered if they knew you had this."

    Daggertongue sipped his tea. ¡°This demon devoured six skilled lieutenants of Margot Bethane and would have devoured a seventh if Mother Mayaz had not twice fended it off. They¡¯re more likely to pin a medal on it. Do you believe you could defeat it?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I answered, honestly, scowling. ¡°I was bested by Mother Mayaz¡¯ minions. And she flattened me without a second thought when Kridick sent us into Hollowdown to rescue Mithra, Lenise, and the others.¡±

    I noticed the corners of Daggertongue¡¯s mouth twitch downward for just an instant¡ªbut I didn¡¯t know exactly at what, whether it was the mention of Kridick, Mayaz, or Hollowdown itself. I had more imminent concerns than deciphering his thoughts, though, like the demon staring at me with more eyes than an overripe spud. I shivered. This thing had broken men in half and devoured them in the most violent display I¡¯d seen since the night Margot Bethane stalked the downs. The fact Daggertongue kept it on a short leash might have made me more at ease, except Daggertongue was still the one holding the other end, and if anything, that was the more dangerous one.

    ¡°Yes, it was quite the pathetic display of lackwits and foolhardiness. Draw your deck. We¡¯ve wasted enough time.¡±

    I pulled out my cards, never taking my eyes off the bound demon that seemed to devour light from the various candle flames and lanterns strung about the room. It somehow oozed and slithered around without moving, and I could feel the sensation of hatred pouring off of it like a miasma. ¡°You want me to fight it?¡± I asked. ¡°Duel your little puppet for combat experience?¡±

    Daggertongue barked a short laugh. ¡°Of course not, idiot. I want you to learn, not die messily. The lack of fortitude with your deck lies not in your reflexes or your ability to spin those cards like a silly western fighter¡¯s fan. It lies in your weak and feeble will. So you will strengthen it by necessity, or you will go mad. This will be painful. But not, I believe, more so than the rest of your unfortunate existence.¡±

    Cut right to the quick, did Daggertongue. I suppose he¡¯d earned that name a hundred times over in his tenure. He looked at me, as though I ought know what to do. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed. ¡°The four of knaves. You can use it, yes? Open your mind. Extend invitation to our little friend.¡±

    That seemed like a very bad idea. But I didn¡¯t see that I had much choice. I called the four of knaves to my deck and opened myself up to the deviltongue.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The bound demon pounced on the opening, squeezing itself into my mind. It might have been a misshapen lump on the floor, but its pressure was of a creature ten times its size. Psychic claws tore at the open door, pulling it wider as it tried to force its way in. My mind¡¯s eye overrode my sense of sight, presenting me with a vision of an enormous shadowy oil-slick.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Daggertongue.

    ¡°What happens once I let it in?¡± I asked through grit teeth. Needles stabbed at my skull.

    ¡°Oh, I would advise against that. It would rearrange the furniture to suit itself. You¡¯d go quite mad.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± I yelled. I tried to slam the mental door shut, cutting off the four of knaves. But the demon¡¯s foot was already in the door, and its claws wrapped around the opening I¡¯d made for it. I lost focus for a moment, and when I regained my senses, I realized I was on the floor. But I kept trying to slam that door. The demon¡¯s emotions overwhelmed me, hitting me as a barrage of images, intents, threats, and seductions. I began to lose my grip again. With everything I had left, I mustered one big push, to force the demon out of my mind.

    It was like throwing a cup of water at a raging fire. All resistance I still had in me vanished completely. Then, so too did the demon from my mind.

    I blinked stars out of my eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

    ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t pissed yourself. I suppose that¡¯s something," said Daggertongue. He tossed down a bladder, and I uncapped it and took a drink of water that tasted like he¡¯d drawn it from the gutter. ¡°While we¡¯re waiting for your wits to gather enough for another go, do you know why Soul Seekers make such poor mages? Is that something they teach at the academy?¡±

    I gurgled and tried to answer, but all that came out was a wretched moan.

    ¡°It¡¯s because of the deck of wills. When we bond with the deck, we forever stunt ourselves in the arcane. The power we borrow from the wills borrows from us in exchange. We form a contract, and power passes through the cameos like a window. The lion¡¯s share of your power exists in other realms, Darcent of Stitch Alley. You have no say in whether your power is used for good or ill. You might have been the source of a summoned spell that killed hundreds, thousands even. Or one that brought water to a drought-stricken village. Your natural talent as a mage is meaningless to you. Your power now derives from how much you can draw from others. It is an exchange, yes. But it need not be equal. Stand up. You¡¯ve lazed long enough.¡±

    I forced myself onto my belly, where it took everything I had not to keep my fevered head pressed against the cool, cool tiles. But lift it I did, and I climbed, unsteadily, to my feet. Despite the drink, my mouth felt dry and swollen, and I had trouble forming words.

    ¡°What am I to demand of this demon?¡± I slurred.

    ¡°From this¡­? Nothing. This is simply a beginner¡¯s exercise in strengthening your force of will. You aren¡¯t yet ready to make demands. Now, open your mind again.¡±

    A beginners exercise? The overwhelming onslaught of fiery rage and hatred assailing my waking mind was a beginner exercise? I shook my head and called the four of knaves to my hand again. Or, at least, I tried to. It zigged away and snapped between Daggertongue¡¯s fore and middle finger. He scrutinized the card, then looked at me with eyes narrowed. ¡°I know these cameos. I¡¯ve seen this deck before.¡±

    ¡°I imagine so,¡± I said, voice starting to clear. I would take the extra few seconds of this distraction. ¡°The enforcers took it off Margot Bethane¡¯s body.¡±

    The corner of Daggertongue¡¯s mouth twisted down. ¡°I can still smell them both. Her blood, and the grubby fingers of the Ways Witch.¡± He tossed the card down at me. ¡°Do not bring this filth here again. Now, begin.¡±

    If anything, the second attempt was even more pathetic. The demon had gotten a look at my inner defenses, and this time it knew just where to hit to shatter the meager barricade I tried to put before the door to my mental vault. I pushed against it, but a mass of teeth and claws and mouths roaring blasphemies began to push through the cracks forming in my resistance. All at once, the thing flowed over and around me, and it felt like its claws were scraping the inside of my skull before Daggertongue pulled it back.

    ¡°Hmm. Threadripper was certain you would crack under my familiar¡¯s resolve on the first or second attempt.¡±

    This time I was face down on the floor with my ass in the air when I came back to my own body. ¡°Glad to disappoint that cuck,¡± I mumbled into the tile.

    ¡°Let us see how far off the mark he was. Again.¡±

 Chapter 100 - Double or Nothing

    Chapter 100 - Double or Nothing

    ¡°Darcent, Darcent! We¡¯ve got a doubles fight sponsored by the shrine!¡± said Annalisa.

    I tried not to let my exhaustion show. ¡°When?¡± I asked, dreading the answer.

    ¡°Tomorrow night. I¡¯ve been training for it all day.¡±

    So had I, though I didn¡¯t consider it as such at the time. Daggertongue¡¯s ¡®lesson¡¯ had consisted of equal parts throwing my will against his bound demon, lambasting my lack of skill, and lecturing me on odd theories surrounding the deck of wills and the inverse suits.

    The temperature dropped as Annalisa¡¯s hands became hard as ice, and she jabbed forward at the air. Her fist whistled like a winter wind. She made an uppercut, but opened a tunnel at the last second, so the punch came from the opposite side.

    ¡°Oi! None of that!¡± scolded Miss Trundi. ¡°I¡¯ll not have you freezing out the customers, again. Off with ye,¡± she said, waving away the snowflakes that had formed.

    I doubt any amount of scolding had ever managed to deter Annalisa, so I tried an alternate plan.

    ¡°We should go to the shrine and get a feel for the arena. Quin¡¯s not going to be able to fix for us. This is a straight-up fight and we¡¯ll have to win it. You can play some Hawks and Wheels while I talk to¡ª¡±

    She was already out the door.

    Barrowdown was in a state of excitement. I must have been the last to learn of the fight, because ink-press posters were already up declaring odds for the bout against our mystery opponents. The thought of fighting by Annalisa¡¯s side was familiar territory in this new world of gold flourishes and Daggertongue¡¯s tutelage, so I embraced it. Despite my exhaustion, being back in the downs and out of the upper city put me in a good mood. Daggertongue thought I was wasting my time here, but I was able to walk freely down the street¡ªa wanted man and outlaw mage. The guild had sent no further enforcers, and adventurers seemed unwilling to venture into the lower city in order to pursue me (though the more unsavory ones were keen on the coin we offered).

    Annalisa tried to explain the rules to some of the old table games left by the Golds, but I¡¯m entirely sure she didn¡¯t understand them herself. I let her speak freely about the strategies behind betting on the reverse straight on a ¡®tight wheel¡¯, but only if the egg was above the six.

    Fucking elves.

    I could immediately sense when we passed within the protection of the wards I¡¯d placed around the shrine. Despite my wanting to be pissed, Daggertongue¡¯s lesson had made me acutely aware of small changes in mental pressure¡ªlike that of seawater-sensing charms carved into the wooden beam above the baker¡¯s that we passed. Perhaps there was some benefit to psychic sparring with his bound demon after all. Not that I would admit it.

    The shrine rose up above the surrounding rooftops, with Lucita¡¯s bosom and sigil glowing in the evening sunlight. It wasn¡¯t yet crowded with the night¡¯s patrons, who would still be laboring on the docks and the lower city. The words above the entrance, Fortune favors thee, shimmered with a faint, magical glow.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The doorman waved me through, despite the seeker enforcer robes. Anna and I were known elements, now. We¡¯d prevented an attack on High Priestess Problems, the drakkyn proprietor of the shrine. And we were poised to bring her into the Barrowdown family.

    One of the Lucitan paladins caught my attention and waved me up to the second floor.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go into debt,¡± I warned Annalisa, before heading up to speak with the high priestess.

    The shrine had made repairs to cover up the damage inflicted and the blood spilled in the second floor corridor, but I could still make out some of the deeper damage from the knives and spells that had been unleashed. A deep scratch on the wall here, a spot of white-wash that didn¡¯t quite match the shade of the old one there.

    Priestess Problems greeted me with the familiar pungent smell of her tea. I glanced down at the steaming cup, and then raised an eyebrow at her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you don¡¯t have to drink it,¡± she said, laughing lightly. ¡°The ritual only requires that you accept it. Your companion is down below?¡±

    I sat down on one of her sedan chairs and pushed the tea slightly further away. ¡°No doubt causing a scene.¡±

    ¡°She is quite precocious.¡±

    I huffed. ¡°Priestess, you don¡¯t know the first measure of it.¡±

    ¡°I suppose not. Are you prepared for the exhibition ritual?¡±

    ¡°You mean the fight?¡±

    The priestess nodded, drifting by me to pick up her own tea. She sipped it, considering. ¡°I had trouble finding opponents for you.¡±

    ¡°No one wants to tousle with the Barrow Knave and the Lady Blue?¡±

    Problems giggled. ¡°Oh, there are no shortage of would-be challengers in the city. Orcs, enforcers, delvers. Even a pair of seekers from the academy looked to try their luck. Imagine such a spectacle, three Soul Seekers dueling in a shrine of Lucita.¡±

    I winced, remembering the night I¡¯d first headed to the shrine. ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±

    ¡°My dilemma was too many options.¡±

    ¡°How did you decide?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I let our Lady of Odds pick a challenge suitable, of course. Two faces sure to give you pause and test you to your limits. And she has done so. Before Lucita, even I don¡¯t yet know who they are. So, what did you want to see me about?¡±

    ¡°I want you to join the Barrow Knave family. Permanently.¡±

    Problems set her cup down, expression chilling somewhat. ¡°A business visit, then. Why don¡¯t we table this until after the Mayazians are dealt with.¡±

    ¡°After the Mayazians are dealt with, I lose my leverage,¡± I said.

    The high priestess hummed to herself. ¡°I can¡¯t fault your earnestness. Would you entertain a counter-offer?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    ¡°Let Lucita decide. I¡¯ll place a substantial bet opposite you in the challenge to come. If you prevail, then Lucita has decided that I ought be in your debt, and I¡¯ll join the Barrow Knaves. If I win, then I strike the debt we already have to you for providing additional security. And you¡¯ll owe me, hmm, twenty flourishes.¡±

    I sputtered. ¡°Twenty flourishes?¡±

    Problems¡¯ eye twinkled. ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, I know you have it. I can spot a Kelier and Thorne signet that you certainly weren¡¯t wearing when last we met.¡±

    I cursed to myself and thumbed the banking ring. She was right. I had it. But I also had plans. ¡°It doesn¡¯t help that your goddess is the only one who knows who we¡¯re fighting.¡±

    ¡°The house must retain some advantage,¡± said Problems, winking. ¡°But, if you insist¡­¡± She set down her cup and made a dice rolling motion, the holy gesture of the Lucitan Church. ¡°I swear before Lucita that the opponents she chose were as close to an equal fight as could be found and this wager is earnest in honor of My Lady of Fortune.¡±

    I could sense the geas wrap itself around the priestess. Lucita had just given her seal of approval. But still, I agonized. ¡°Twenty flourishes,¡± I said, pinching my chin. ¡°Very well,¡± I said. ¡°I agree.¡±

    ¡°Then in a short while, we shall see who Lucita favors,¡± said High Priestess Problems.

 Chapter 101 - Muscle Memory

    Chapter 101 - Muscle Memory

    ¡°No, no. Resist. Align your thoughts and present a tempered barrier. Invite the attack, then perform the reading.¡±

    I sat cross-legged on the table in The Iron Tap, Daggertongue¡¯s favored pub. His demon familiar slid across the tiles, bubbling and glaring with eyes that constantly dissolved and reformed.

    After four days of lessons, I was able to keep the demon from rending my mind. Now, Daggertongue was having me perform seeking exercises while maintaining those defenses. While his bound demon battered at my walls I charged the deck with my will.

    ¡°Draw more of their power. They are certainly drawing yours. Five cards. Keep it smooth. Tell me if a venture of steel to Saltforge will be profitable. There¡¯s little point if you don¡¯t challenge yourself.¡±

    I found this plenty challenging, as it was. Daggertongue¡¯s familiar loomed. Every instinct told me that it was a fraction of a heartbeat from lunging at me, held at bay only by its commitment to the elf gangster¡¯s binding. But it had still been given freedom to drive itself into my mind. It pressed against the barrier as I flipped the first card. These were my black pine and mooncap cards. As Daggertongue had ordered, I left the bloodstained deck at the Mop for this. The deck vibrated against my split will. I pulled a second card off the top of the deck, not even yet looking at its face.

    I grunted as the demon threw itself suddenly at my defenses, battering the breadth of my mental wall with its spiritual bulk. The impression of it in my mind felt as though I should fly across the room. The tavern spun as my vision swam, and I lost control of the reading. The deck scattered and cards spun through the air in every direction. But without my focus split, I wrapped my mental wall around the demon like a bubble and ejected it from my mind, slamming the door behind it.

    Daggertongue sighed. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s too much to ask for such a single-minded simpleton to show a modicum of multitasking.¡±

    ¡°I know where my strengths lie,¡± I ground out, sweat dripping off my face.

    ¡°There is something to be said for being so well-acquainted with one¡¯s shortcomings.¡±

    Daggertongue stood, finishing his wine. ¡°As my bottle has run nearly dry in lockstep with my patience, that shall be all for today.¡±

    I collected my deck as the familiar demon slid back into the shadows. The last thing to disappear were its ever-hateful eyes glaring at me, and a final, savoring slurp. I pulled myself to my feet, both of which felt leaden despite having sat for the entirety of the training session.

    ¡°One last thing,¡± said Daggertongue.

    I froze.

    ¡°It¡¯s come to my attention that another elven tome has surfaced¡ªat the Royal Arcanists Repository lost works department. By pure coincidence, I¡¯m sure.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°And this concerns me, how?¡± I asked.

    Daggertongue huffed a curt laugh, I¡¯m sure not fooled for a moment about my involvement. He knew about the influx of gold into my coffers, after all. It wasn¡¯t much of a leap to assume the books I brought him weren¡¯t the only ones.

    ¡°Find this book, and any copies made of it.¡±

    ¡°And bring them to you?¡±

    ¡°And add them to the ashes of the rest,¡± he said, tapping his head. ¡°Any knowledge they contain can cause only harm. What relevant details need be maintained are here. I was there when they were written, after all.¡±

    I stuffed my deck back in my pocket. ¡°And what do I get for such a magnanimous act as breaking into a library to destroy ancient knowledge?¡±

    Daggertongue tapped a finger to his cheek as he looked at something only he could see. ¡°Perhaps your part in this grand abyssal game shall become less opaque. Hmm? Unless you¡¯d prefer to divine it yourself.¡±

    I narrowed my eyes. All the trouble I¡¯d gone to, finding the ancient library (yeah, on accident, sure) and fighting off the Mayazians, and the prissy elf had the details in his head the whole time.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I said.

    Daggertongue blinked. ¡°Are you still here? Surely even you have somewhere to be.¡±

    I growled and stormed out of the tavern. I was so steamed up from the elf lord¡¯s quips that it was two streets before I realized that I¡¯d been too angry to maintain pretenses by asking the name of the book I was looking for.

    And Daggertongue hadn¡¯t bothered humoring my intelligence by mentioning it.

    Fucking elf.

    I made my way back down to Barrowdown, dodging the city patrols that had been stepped up in the aftermath of the undercity. Had to keep those low-rank adventurers busy, after all, or else they get into trouble. At some point Annalisa and I would have to return to the library and see what, if anything, had survived. Even if to simply make sure it didn¡¯t. So be it.

    Finding the streets busy, I kept a hand to my purse to discourage the roving crews as I made my way through the downs. They would never touch me if I wore seeker robes, but the nature of my clandestine meetings with Daggertongue necessitated a stealthier approach, ironically by walking the streets bereft of mask or hood. A few of the more brazen gutter children picked me as a mark, but I sent them scurrying when I knuckled the knife from one¡¯s grip while his partner tried to sell me fake penny charms. The clatter of iron on cobble was as clear a warning as an adventurer¡¯s guild badge.

    Once back in the Mop and Bucket, I pulled out the city seal badge and sent some of my will into it. The civil servant, Fineous, appeared with a clap of air, looking quite startled and disoriented in his sleep gown. His eyes fell on me and he groaned.

    ¡°Master Knave,¡± he said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll cut to the chase,¡± I said. ¡°I need a convincing pass to the Royal Arcanists Repository.¡±

    ¡°And I need eight hours of uninterrupted sleep,¡± he said, running a hand across his bleary face. ¡°The Royal Arcanist passes aren¡¯t city documents. I¡¯ve never issued one. And I¡¯m not a forger.¡±

    ¡°Luckily, my skillset is flexible. And you may not have issued them, but you¡¯ve seen one, surely,¡± I said.

    I went to my desk and pulled out my inking kit and several selections of paper of varying qualities. I also pulled out two gold flourishes and put them on the table. Since opening a membership was ten flourishes, minimum, I figured I was still getting a good discount. Especially when I saw the glint of golden metal off Fineous¡¯ suddenly wakeful eyes. Greed is the universal language, after all.

    Fineous licked his lips. ¡°If you must know¡­ they¡¯re based on the official records and receipts passes for the shared court minutes archive.¡±

    ¡°Splendid,¡± I said, pulling out a sheet of vellum. ¡°The doe-hide?¡±

    ¡°Pressed flax pulp, actually,¡± said Fin, leaning over my desk and sorting through until he found a much rougher sheet. ¡°But chandler¡¯s parchment is close enough. The seal is going to be tricky, though. Mooncap ink. It has a very unique shimmer.¡±

    ¡°Lucky coincidence,¡± I said, drawing the remains of the vial I used to ink my deck. I¡¯d seen the seal itself at the repository. It had been at an angle, but a stamp is easier to fake than a wax seal signet. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡±

 Chapter 102 â€“ Old Friends

    Chapter 102 ¨C Old Friends

    The city was electric on the night of the fight. I hadn¡¯t realized how big of a deal it had grown into until I saw the crowds, electrified as though by drakkyn living lightning. Revelers packed the crowded streets, and barkers shouted odds from every corner. Lucitan fights were rare, since neither side could impact the outcome with a God preventing cheating. But for followers of bloodsport, they were the real deal for that very same reason. Honest odds were like shrum to a gambler.

    I wore my stolen battle robe and the scarf of inflated value and walked beside Annalisa in her delving getup (thoroughly washed and scrubbed). Crowds spotting us parted as grass before the plow¡ªor so I assumed, having never seen a farm. Barrowdown was Ours, and everyone recognized it as such. Even the pickpockets stayed away, which was wise because the blood-stained deck in my pocket itched to lash out at anyone and everyone.

    As a conduit to power, I felt it more clearly than ever. Thanks to Daggertongue¡¯s lessons (torture sessions), I could feel the eddies of individual wills conflicting in the deck as various cards pushed and pulled against each other. The constant shifts that had once felt like so much noise in my brain now seemed a navigable tempest. The storms approved of that sentiment. Unlike my graceful deck carved with mooncap ink that flowed easily with my will, this deck was primal, powerful, tainted, and needed a constant firm hand¡ªbut promised great and terrible violence when wielded with the intent to cause harm. Part of that was the bloodstains of the fel witch that linked it and I together. Part of it was the furtive paranoia of the witch who had carved the portraits with a scratching, uncertain hand.

    Annalisa soaked in the crowds adoration, even as I tried to ignore it. She beamed under the attention, with freshly polished horns glimmering in the light of lamps, torches, and the wane dragons. She raised her hands and swirled a flurry of snow from two portals, creating a brief summertime blizzard that delighted the crowd in a short reprieve from the stifling summer heat. Even her steel knuckles had been polished¡ªthough she¡¯d removed the spikes, as we were fighting people, not monsters. Still, I watched as she jabbed the air, snapping punches faster than I could follow and slipping imaginary opponents. She needed no sharp edges to be a force of nature. Annalisa of Dunnemarsh was pure blunt instrument.

    ¡°Are you ready, Darcent?¡± She asked. I don¡¯t think she was talking about the fight.

    Along the roads from the Mop to the Middle City, I spotted our people, both obvious and hidden. This was a big night with lots of moving pieces, and we were fully expecting the Mayazians to make a play. I made eye contact with a pair of discrete adventurers that we¡¯d retained and offered the barest nod.

    ¡°Ready for anything,¡± I said. Short of Mother Mayaz herself making an appearance at the Shrine of Lucita (unlikely, as she was a clear adherent of an abyssal god), the Mayazians would have to really up their game to catch us off guard. Unfortunately, it seemed even Lucita was paying attention to tonight, because every reading surrounding the fight suffered abrupt, divine blockage. Apparently, the Lady of Odds deemed even that to be a breach of her ritual¡¯s integrity.

    The Lucitan shrine had lit up for the fight, with streamers and colored glass lamps giving the temple¡¯s face a soft, red glow. The crowds waiting to get in were far more than the temple could actually handle¡ªconsidering the fighting pit within was of a very modest size. Maybe a 10<sup>th</sup> of the crowd space as the middle-city arena where we¡¯d watched Storm-laden fight. But, if anything, we were drawing an even more massive crowd. Impromptu fight pits had been organized outside in the open spaces, replete with drink vendors and bookies issuing wager slips.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    I spotted several of our hopefuls scrapping in the temporary pits, facing off against fighters from other factions in the downs and those of slightly more renown from the middle city. The pair of twins I¡¯d met in Jeedle¡¯s training yard squared off with a pair of dwarven brawlers in one ring and seemed to be making a good showing for themselves. I stopped to watch their technique. They¡¯d been practicing. What little fat they¡¯d had at the training yard had been trimmed, and there was an economy to their movement that hadn¡¯t been there when I¡¯d fought them. As I caught their eye, one of the twins deftly deflected a blow, while the other stepped into the opening and landed a devastating counterpunch that put one of the dwarves face-down in the ash. The other watchers at the pit roared, and I offered a subtle nod to the pair.

    But we weren¡¯t here for the small fights. We were headlining this shindig, and people started to notice us. Not intent on being mobbed by the middle-city gawkers who hadn¡¯t learned the wisdom of keeping their distance, I headed into the shrine with Annalisa.

    The noise of the street fell away, echoing shouts and distant mutts barking replaced by the rifle of cards and the clink of coins, and the low murmurs of the conversations around table games. Even the most recalcitrant of men loosens their lips around the table where the mind is focused on odds and the flow of Hawks and Wheels. Annalisa started to get distracted and deviate toward her favorite table game as we passed. I had to hook a finger in her trouser belt loop and keep her on-mission.

    ¡°Just one game?¡± she protested. ¡°We have time.¡±

    ¡°We have business,¡± I insisted. ¡°I want an update with the high priestess before the fight. I need my partner in case something happens.¡±

    Annalisa thought about that for a minute, then took one last look at the table and followed me to meet the paladins guarding the second-floor staircase. They recognized us, moving aside so that we could ascend.

    You could barely tell that a deadly fight had taken place in the hall outside the office of High Priestess Problems, but Annalisa ran her finger down a scratch in the wall that had likely come from a thrown Mayazian dagger.

    I rapped my knuckles on the high priestess¡¯ office door, and the drakyn woman opened it, eyes initially wary until she saw myself and Annalisa. Her posture relaxed¡ªslightly¡ªand she admitted us. Annalisa, of course, beamed and smiled her widest smile at the sight of the tea set already steaming on the table, and dashed to pour herself a cup while I greeted Problems.

    ¡°Has everything been set for the night?¡± I asked.

    The high priestess nodded. ¡°Your opponents for the evening are already in their prep room warming up¡ªwhere you should be, as well.¡±

    I took a seat next to Annalisa. ¡°I wanted to see if there¡¯d been any signs of our friends from Hollowdown fishing around the venue. Where do we stand with the Mayazians?¡±

    High Priestess Problems fidgeted, her claws not seeming to discover a comfortable way to fold. ¡°Several packs of them have been spotted infiltrating the crowds. They¡¯re certain to try something.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± I said.

    ¡°Good?¡± she asked, taking a seat across from us and arranging her skirts.

    I shrugged. ¡°We know why they¡¯re here. We know what they¡¯re after. We have more hidden allies in one place than ever before. Even the Kindledown wolves are here. The Mayazians are jumping into a den of vipers.¡±

    The high priestess didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°Mother Mayaz might not be here in person, Darcent, but she¡¯s still pulling the strings and she¡¯s a powerful seer.¡±

    Leaning forward, I took a biscuit from the tea tray, hoping that it looked like I was more confident than I felt. ¡°So am I,¡± I said.

    ¡°With decades less experience,¡± said Annalisa, helpfully.

    I raised an eyebrow at her. She stared blankly at me. I sighed, turning back to the Lucitan priestess. ¡°Yes, she¡¯s more experienced. I might have missed something she didn¡¯t. But I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    The high priestess looked at us both and her expression softened. ¡°Ultimately, it¡¯s not for me to fuss over. Lucita will decide. And the chips shall fall where they may.¡±

    I fingered the deck in my pocket. The chips may fall where the luck goddess willed. But that didn¡¯t mean we couldn¡¯t give them a little nudge along the way.