ã€ŠSpire&#x27;s Spiteã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Waking up with a black bag over your head and a foot in your gut has to be one of the worst ways to be woken up, maybe not the worst way but it''s up there. He struggled at first, but it turned out fighting while blind and outnumbered were no strengths of his. Not that brawling ever was a particular talent he possessed, well, not unless his foes were looking the other way.

    He struck out at the blackness, hearing a couple of grunts and curses as he wildly swung his limbs and connected with rough skin over tough flesh. While he flailed, he knocked over the stack of books and other knickknacks he had ¡°liberated¡± from their previous owners. They tumbled away from his makeshift bed of rags, bouncing over the loft¡¯s edge and splashing into the lightly flooded room below.

    He struggled against his attackers, twisting and swinging violently until they pinned him irresistibly, roughly binding his feet and fists with coarse rope. Lifted from both ends by his hands and feet, he heard several distinctly different thuds, and counted the sets of footsteps creaking on the rotting wood below.

    Three, four, maybe five? No, definitely three. Why so many? Why the rope? Only one answer really, he¡¯d worn out Kind Ron¡¯s patience and he¡¯d sicced some toughs on him.

    His thoughts raced as he puzzled out his plight.

    ¡°Right, He¡¯s bound up nice and tight? Kev you lead the way down. Let¡¯s get out of this waterlogged dump,¡± one of the thugs ordered casually in a rough voice.

    He struggled again, uselessly thrashing against his bonds as the men carried him down and away from his current refuge; a disused loft over an abandoned herbalist''s shop.

    ¡°Let me free, Kind Ron will get his quota! You don''t have to do this, just give me another chance! I¡¯ll have it by the end of the day I swear it. By the spires I swear it,¡± he sputtered out of newly bruised lips.

    His attackers guffawed as he struggled until one of them spoke up in a malicious croak ¡°Aint nothin¡¯ to do with your quota Fritz. And don¡¯t go swearin¡¯ by the spires if you haven¡¯t even survived the first floor. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re swearing on.¡±

    With begging already having failed to find why he''d been grabbed, he moved onto goading.

    ¡°Can¡¯t be that tough if you fishwits managed it. Bet it''s as easy as tying your shoelaces, though you lot would have trouble with that wouldn¡¯t you?¡± The bound boy retorted, trying to give them an infuriating smirk through the bag. His smirk was unsuccessful but it seemed his words were not.

    His comment earned him a thump in the ribs and a slap in his still-bagged face, aggravating a cut on his lip, intensifying the familiar taste of blood on his tongue.

    Fritz thought, as he usually did, a little provocation might help his predicament. Maybe getting this lot of thugs angry would get them to make a mistake, give him a chance to slip away or fight back?

    ¡°Easy as tying shoelaces ¡®ey, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find out. Still, best you be quiet, I don¡¯t much like the sound of crying and it¡¯ll save you a lot of pain in the long run,¡± croaked the man matter-of-factly as if Fritz was a particularly dumb student in need of some hard truths.

    ¡°Best be quiet,¡± Fritz scoffed as well as he could while being carried like a log. ¡°Do you also say that to your sister after you bed her, or is it before?¡±

    The world rang like a bell as his head slammed against something hard. Distantly he felt like he was falling. There were a few seconds of disorientation, of spinning, then he crashed into the stone floor and painful awareness came kicking back. Much like the repeated blows he was now receiving.

    After a couple more spiteful kicks landed he was hauled up again. The world felt fuzzy and there was a decided ringing in his ears.

    ¡°You¡¯re..all..a..load..of..stinkin¡¯...coward...skulg-spawn...sucking¡­eel-licking..sister...¡± He panted out through an aching chest.

    Over the high-pitched whine of his own rasping insults and wheezing breath, he heard the malicious voice grumble ¡°Gag him, it¡¯s true what they say of him, real mouthy bugger he is. I¡¯d rather not have him cursin¡¯ us and our esteemed sisters through this whole thing.¡±

    There were murmurs of agreement and then the bag came off. The light was all too bright for his eyes. A blurry figure with lank dark hair bent over him and forced a chord of the coarse rope between his bloodied teeth, cutting off his tirade of vulgarities. The bag slipped roughly over his head, again, mercifully plunging him back into the dark.

    With one parting thump to the head, they carried him into the incessant rain, out into the winding cobblestone streets of the Sunken Ring and onward to who knows where.

    Looks like the first part of my plan worked, Fritz thought to himself through the haze of pain. The rain was starting to soak his clothes, cooling the heat of his bruised skin and ego.

    I got them plenty angry. What was the next stage of the plan again?

    ---

    Fritz awoke in a cellar, this also was not a great way to wake up he reflected. The cellar was damp, though dampness was to be expected in the Rain City. He was just relieved the cellar wasn¡¯t half full of water. Around him, he could hear whispering low voices. Young like himself unless he misjudged, which was entirely possible as he was a little dizzy and his ears still rang softly.

    He was lying prone with his bonds and bag removed, so he shuffled into a forward crawl until he got away from the whispering. His hands met slick, stone bricks as he touched the cool wet surface and turned slowly to put his aching back to the wall.

    Seated up against the stone, Fritz tried to take stock of his predicament. However, even without the bag over his head, his eyes couldn¡¯t pierce the darkness. He shivered in the gloom and he rubbed at his raw wrists, poking and prodding at his many bruises making sure they weren¡¯t too serious.

    Nothing broken it seemed, but it was all fairly painful.

    Still, it''s not the worst shape I¡¯ve been in, he mused silently in the dark.

    Not long after the ringing and dizziness were starting to fade, Fritz thought he saw a light. Hoping it was no new symptom of his head injury he called to where he thought he heard some soft voices.

    ¡°Do you see that light or is it just my brain turning to mush?¡±

    The whispering stopped then someone answered him, a familiar voice but one he couldn¡¯t quite place.

    ¡°Fritz, is that you under all them bruises?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it''s me,¡± Fritz grunted in response, hope and dread starting to fill his chest in equal measure. He''d know that sullen voice anywhere. ¡°Tobias, is that you whispering over there, didn¡¯t know you could go so long without carving up a piece of the furniture.¡±

    ¡°It''s Toby, and you know it. And they took my knife when they grabbed me, got one of them with it though. Right down his arm. Bloody eel-lickers,¡± Toby groused.

    ¡°Anyone else from the gang with you over there? Or am I interrupting your attempt at a whispered courting in this admittedly romantic, dank cellar?¡± Fritz called across the room.

    Toby let out a wearied sigh, and another, high-pitched, voice burst out in anger, ¡°Oh shut up, Fritz! I swear to the Spires I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re in the crew. I bet this is all your fault. I bet a full silver triad you¡¯ve put us in this mess.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Jane you¡¯re here too. I¡¯m glad to take that bet. I have it on fair authority that it''s not actually my fault this time,¡± Fritz replied with false surety.

    ¡°This time,¡± Toby said blandly.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Fritz went on ignoring the remark. ¡°Is it just you and Jane? Or are there more of us in here?¡±

    ¡°Shut up. Lights coming. And I mean it. Shut up, Fritz. I don¡¯t wanna get beat because you cause trouble,¡± Jane hissed at Fritz.

    Fritz decided to do just that, well, that was until the light shone through a small barred window in the heavy wooden door. It illuminated the large and rectangular grey brick cellar. Now he could see, though blearily, each water-slick wall at least twenty feet on a side. The brightness continued to increase, revealing the other prone or sitting people in the room, most of them thin and hurt. They cradled injured limbs and stared away, shielding their sensitive eyes from the sudden light.

    He saw Jane and Toby sitting together and the deeply breathing, unconscious form of Greg. Another of Fritz''s crew, lying in front of them.

    He scanned the round, plain face of Jane, her shoulder-length frazzled mousy brown hair and met her fish-scale grey eyes. She was in a serviceable green and cream dress, one a server in a tavern might wear, though it was looking worse for wear as it was streaked with mud and had holes torn in the sleeves.

    Toby looked rough and as though he had taken a tumble down some stairs. Old sticky, blood ran along his cheek and jaw. His usual stern, dark gaze was pointed solidly at the floor with his black hair hanging over his pale, long-faced, angular features. His lips looked like they were stuck in their usual morose grimace, which Fritz could admit was fitting for this occasion. Toby''s signature dark used-to-be-black cloak was draped over himself and Jane like a blanket, trying to keep away the cold and the damp.

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    Greg, however, looked terribly hurt but he was still breathing, which was a relief. Even if his close shaved head had three large lumps the size of eggs. His face, an ugly affair at the best of times, was a puffy mess of bruises and cuts. It did nothing to help his already brutish appearance, though he assumed Greg wouldn¡¯t mind a couple more scars as he seemed to collect them and show them off with glee.

    That''s if he survives, Fritz supposed darkly. Though he¡¯s likely to live. Greg could always take a beating, then just shrug it off. He¡¯s Like an ogre both bodily and spiritually, he derided silently.

    When Fritz''s hurts were finally made visible, Jane winced, they must have been similar in scale to Greg¡¯s, considering that Toby paled further as well. He tried to give Jane a reassuring smile, but he could feel blood drip out the corner of his mouth so he promptly stopped. He didn¡¯t want to scare the poor girl.

    He could hear multiple sets of footsteps coming down the hall, hard leather slapping against the slick cobblestone floor. There was a shuffling and a rattling of metal keys as one was picked out and thrust into a lock. With the clank of the simple lock disengaging and the thunk of a wooden bar being hefted up, the door swung open with a dirge-like creak.

    Three men, wearing long brown oil coats beaded with water, stood in the hall beyond the door''s frame. The one in the centre, hefting the lantern, was a middle-aged man. He looked as if he were carved of wood, gnarled, with notches and scars littering his bald head and face. That same face stared grimly back at the curious and hateful glances with eyes the colour of lead. He spoke in a voice like recently tarred gravel.

    ¡°Away from the door if you know what''s good for you.¡±

    He then motioned a short wave towards the door, at his gang in oil-coats.

    ¡°Chuck the next lot in,¡± He rumbled.

    They hurried to obey, corralling a line of raggedly dressed figures towards the cellar. The bags over their heads were torn off as they were forcefully pushed into the room to join Fritz in this makeshift prison.

    He recognised many of them in passing, other thieves, thugs and ne¡¯er-do-wells. As well as a couple of the girls he¡¯d seen working in the ¡°affiliated¡± inns and taverns as waitresses and maids. They were still clothed in blouses that showed a little too much neckline, hand-me-downs from the actual working girls. Though the girls looked dishevelled, none of them sported bruises or other injuries. Fritz was glad of that fact, though the red eyes and the other obvious signs of tears still made his chest burn.

    As he looked into their faces, he could see none of them were as nearly as injured as himself, or Greg, nor likely to have reached their sixth Tolling either. They were all too thin and pale as if not eating well enough and not seeing enough sun. But who did in the Sunken Ring?

    A portrait of why they were here was starting to coalesce in Fritz¡¯s pain-addled head, but a little more information wouldn¡¯t hurt. Well, actually he supposed it would, but he was willing to pay the price if it gave him an edge.

    So Fritz spoke up just as two more men he hadn¡¯t seen heft one last boy, this one bound much like Fritz was, into the room laying him in the centre before untying and de-bagging him.

    Fritz hardly glanced at the now unbound boy, dreading that he would recognise the limp, bloody form.

    Right height same hair-

    No! Plan! Don¡¯t get distracted. Talk! That¡¯s what you¡¯re good for. Talk and get something useful from these guys, Fritz thought desperately.

    He called out a challenge to the man holding the lantern,¡°Kind Ron won''t let this stand you know. He takes poorly to those who lay a hand on his gangs, you¡¯re all dead men, drowned men. I¡¯ll tie the weights to your legs myself when I get out of here.¡±

    This accusation was met with a guttural chuckle. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, we¡¯re not the ones who hafta worry about drowning. As for Kind Ron, who do ya think gave ya to us, ya dredge?¡±

    Denial welled up in in his gut until the cold of reality swept down from his brain and quenched the burn of the betrayal. He knew it was going to happen eventually, but this soon? The fact they weren¡¯t afraid of a Pather''s wrath means that Fritz and his crew were all up a night gutter without a paddle.

    ¡°Yeah that tracks. Then who are you? Why are we here? Where is here?¡± A deluge of questions spilled from Fritz¡¯s aching throat. Trying to pry something from the man that could save him and his gang. And if he could manage it, the rest of the prisoners.

    ¡°Worry not, young lad, you¡¯ll find out soon enough, don¡¯t want to spoil the surprise if ya haven¡¯t worked it out already,¡± the voice beyond the door replied.

    ¡°And don¡¯t be gettin¡¯ any funny ideas about escape, or a surprise will be the least of your worries,¡± The man didn''t wait for a response. He turned as soon as the last of the men left the cellar, shutting and barring the heavy door behind them with an ominous thud.

    The lantern light dimmed and started to fade as footsteps scraped on stone. Away and into silence. Silence save the constant soft sound of dripping rain.

    ¡°That was Jagged Nic. He works for the Nightshark,¡± a boy hissed.

    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t?¡± Someone answered from a corner. Steve, if Fritz didn¡¯t guess wrongly.

    ¡°No. He works for him directly,¡± the other boy replied gravely.

    That plunged them all into silence as they contemplated their fate.

    Fritz decided to use what little time they had with the light to check on the unconscious boy in the centre of the room.

    His stomach fell. He had been right.

    That pale, rugged but handsome face was beat up and broken. Bruises lined his square jaw and his eyes were closed shut hiding those wild amber-gold irises. His unruly mop of golden hair was caked in mud and blood. Of course, he recognised him. His right-hand man, his salvation, and his best bloody friend.

    ¡°Bert, are you awake, tell me you''re alright?¡± Fritz whispered to him as he crawled towards him, achingly on his battered hands and knees. Cool slippery stones dug at him as he crawled, but he persisted, Bert could be in trouble.

    Bert¡¯s stocky body lay quiet, only tiny whistling breaths escaping his broken nose.

    ¡°Come on. You¡¯re alright, cut the act,¡± he pleaded.

    Fritz eventually reached him, eyes burning, hoping against hope that Bert wasn¡¯t dead or dying. He shook him gently by the shoulder, then a little harder when he didn¡¯t respond at all. His lolling head bumped against the hard wet floor.

    ¡°Spire¡¯s spite, he¡¯s not waking up,¡± Fritz whispered fearfully.

    ¡°Come on Albert, tell me you¡¯re just faking it,¡± A terrible dread was seeping into his gut, filling him further every second Bert lay still.

    He heard Jane begin to sob.

    ¡°No, no not poor Albert,¡± she began to quietly wail.

    Bert groaned softly in dismay and opened one mischievous but abashed eye.

    ¡°Damn it, I was faking it!¡± He burst out in frustration. He aimed his next words at the sobbing in a quiet sombre tone.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were here, Jane. Sorry I was just trying to put the guilt to Fritz here. As this is clearly his fault and he needed to be taught a lesson. I didn¡¯t mean to upset you.¡±

    Fritz remained frozen, squeezing Bert¡¯s shoulder with no small amount of force, torn between immense joy that Bert was fine and a deep teeth-gritting annoyance that he¡¯d play dead just to mess with him. Not that Fritz would have done any differently if the situation was reversed. Still, it was the principle of the thing.

    ¡°But you!¡± Bert rounded on Fritz. ¡°You skulg-sucking squid-bedder, what did you do this time!?¡±

    ¡°Me!? You just let me think you were dead! Honestly, how dare you? You¡¯re meant to be the sensible one! No, no don¡¯t try to deny it, it is truth and law, and as true as the rain,¡± Fritz intoned as if giving a sermon.

    ¡°One of you is meant to be sensible? I thought you two were just two utterly insane peas in the same mad pod,¡± Toby interjected.

    That made both Fritz and Bert grin at each other in the waning light. Bert¡¯s grin was quickly replaced by a wince as the movement stung his face and reminded him of his broken nose. With a resigned grimace Bert clutched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and set it straight with a sickening crunch. Bert let out a grunt, it probably still ached terribly, but at least now his breath was no longer whistling.

    Fritz mirrored the wince in sympathy, but went on talking.

    ¡°Anyway, I think this is more than one of my mistakes. I think I know why we¡¯re here but I¡¯m not sure, need to ask a few questions of our fellow captives first,¡± Fritz replied trying to assert a sense of control over the situation that he did not feel. Not in the slightest, but the crew didn''t need to know that.

    Bert harrumphed, ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Also stop calling him Bert, Albert prefers Al,¡± Jane piped in between sobs.

    ¡°Same goes for Toby,¡± She added belatedly as Toby rustled in discontent.

    ¡°Fine, fine Janey,¡± Fritz assuaged.

    Before she could protest her Fritz granted alias, he ploughed on ahead, speaking into the darkness.

    ¡°How old is everyone, anyone hear their sixth Toll?¡±

    No one answered.

    ¡°Oi, Steve, you¡¯re the oldest here, aren¡¯t you? What are you five tolls two years and a season old?¡± Fritz questioned.

    ¡°Three seasons and two months, loudmouth,¡± Steve contradicted.

    ¡°Damn, at twenty years old you¡¯re on the upper end of the age for the Tolling. Must have come out just after the Tolling. But that makes sense. I think our abductions have to be something to do with the Spires and our first Climb then. As once we hear our Sixth Toll we can enter the Spires,¡± he thought aloud, reciting things every one knew. Though that was only mostly true, your very first first Toll was ignored since you couldn''t recall it, which was not something that could be said of the next ones.

    ¡°Are we really that close to the season''s end? Has it already almost been three years since the last Toll? I haven¡¯t been keeping track. But why take us?¡± Asked one of the girls confused, a redhead Fritz only vaguely knew.

    ¡°We are that close. I¡¯ve been counting. Heard rumours of this before, street kids disappearing before their Sixth Toll, never to be seen again.¡±

    ¡°S¡¯pose that¡¯s not really surprising, a couple of us go missing every season. What''s a dozen or more every Toll?¡± A gruff voice spoke out a shrug in their tone.

    Was that Sid? How¡¯d they get him? He¡¯s a wily one and a vicious scrapper to boot. But I guess they got Bert and I. And we''re nothing if not hard to catch, Fritz thought to himself in the clammy dark.

    ¡°Maybe they mean to prepare us for surviving the first level, or even getting a path on the third,¡± Fritz said speculatively.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t afford the Spire levy, even for the Minor Spire,¡± Toby spat.

    ¡°Even if they could, prepare us? Prepare us for what? Our certain deaths? We ain¡¯t got nothing, no training, no equipment, no weapons, no nothing,¡± Toby continued, his words becoming more sour the longer he spoke.

    ¡°Now, now. We¡¯re not completely unprepared, we have skills,¡± Fritz said, trying to lace his hollow words with confidence. Knowing that only himself had likely befitted from training and tutoring however short lived it might have been.

    ¡°Easy for a Guide¡¯s son to say. Daddy probably taught you all his Guide secrets. But us, we don¡¯t have the benefits of such a lucky life,¡± Steve groused into the murk.

    Bert turned to glare in the direction of the comment, but Fritz lay a hand on him and spoke through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Shut up, Steve, you third-rate mugger and first-rate prick. My father died three Tolls ago. I¡¯ve been without him or help for almost half my life. Been out on the streets just like you lot.¡±

    ¡°Us lot,¡± Toby said in that bland manner again, but he added nothing more so Fritz ignored him.

    ¡°The Guides Guild never lets anything slip about their exclusive Paths or Abilities nor how to acquire them in the Spires. The knowledge is not even allowed to be shared with family. If they thought I knew anything I¡¯d be stone dead, drowned and dismembered. And that''s a truth you all should know,¡± anger was seeping into his voice and he was almost spitting his words by the end.

    Bert quickly spoke up, breaking the dark silence that followed Fritz¡¯s rant.

    ¡°Need a member to be dismembered. So you¡¯re not at risk for that, Fritz.¡±

    Fritz chuckled as did many of the others trapped in here with him. He found himself releasing the hatred that had snuck up on him. Now was not the time for readdressing that old wound. The Guild and its ¡®policies¡¯ were not his concern right now.

    ¡°Though I wasn¡¯t talking about Guide skills,¡± Fritz continued, glad for Bert¡¯s support in cutting the tension of the situation.

    ¡°I was more talking about what you learn on the street, in the gutters. The skills we¡¯re forced to learn just to survive. Cunning, grit, wiles and will, we''ve got that in buckets. Think on that. We have a better chance than you¡¯d expect,¡± Fritz ended optimistically, trying to reassure the cold, quiet room. And himself.

    Another silence followed, broken only by the dripping of water and the dull sloshing echoing out from the dark.

    Fritz resolved to do anything to survive, to get through this with Bert and to get out of what ever mess he was in so he could protect what was left of his family. He sat there in the gloom hoping against hope he¡¯d live to see his brother and sister again.

    ¡°Spires save me.¡±

 Chapter 2

    Meals of bread and dried fish came to Fritz and the other prisoners sporadically, carried in by gruff, vicious and short tempered gaolers. As the hours wore on more and more people were brought into the cellar. There was no sun to set the time by Fritz could only guess at the actual time passing, though it couldn''t be more than a couple of days.

    Each time they had added captives to the cell Fritz would cajole, coax and wheedle the men in oil-coats. Bargaining with them for light until finally one of them caved and left Fritz with a new black eye and a bronze lantern hanging on the wall outside the heavy door, shedding a low flickering light through its barred window.

    Fritz had settled in to the damp cellar, sitting in companionable silence with his crew. There were near on thirty people crammed in the cellar, that was now starting to get uncomfortably warm with all the heat they radiated. Some of the prisoners waited in silence, but many of the ne¡¯er do wells knew each other in some capacity and congregated in small huddled groups while whispering, forming plans, scheming schemes and cursing their gaolers.

    The separate gangs took and held territory in each corner of the cellar while those without such strong ties mingled between them. Even imprisoned as they were they would fight for any advantage, any comfort and any security they could seize.

    Steve often glared at Fritz and his crew, his beady brown eyes seemed to probe them for whatever weakness he could pounce on. His rodent-like features screwed into a feral scowl whenever Fritz met his stares with a dull look and a bland smirk. When Fritz kept up the eye contact dismissively Steve would inevitably look away angrily and run his hand over his curly mop of brown hair.

    Steve¡¯s gang sat opposite of Fritz''s crew and that¡¯s where he liked them, not that he actually liked them. Really, Fritz held no particular love for his fellow street rats, save Bert. And perhaps Jane, Toby and Greg. Although there was always a distance there, like those three didn¡¯t accept him fully. Which didn¡¯t surprise him as he never really opened up to them or told them the full truth of his past as he had with Bert.

    Greg had come around sometime after Fritz¡¯s small speech, and was just as surprised as everyone else in his gang that this abduction wasn¡¯t his fault. It was during one of the lulls in whispered conversation that Greg picked up on his favourite pastime these couple of days: blaming Fritz for everything.

    ¡°Are we sure Fritz didn¡¯t piss off the Nightshark? Maybe ran his mouth and called him or one of his harem a skulg-rammer or something worse?¡± Greg asked sceptically.

    ¡°Yes that¡¯s right, I strolled right into the harem of the Nightshark. The man who runs the whole underbelly of this sublime, soaked city,¡± Fritz replied, his voice rife with condescension. ¡°Interrupted whatever it is he does with his harem, and called him a squid-sucking gutter cleaner with all the personality and brains of overcooked porridge.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and then I kicked his favourite dog right in its dumb dog face. Which I would do to you too Greg if I thought it would make you ask less stupid questions, and if you wouldn¡¯t just enjoy it,¡± Fritz finished in exasperation.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Fritz, you can find out what happens in a harem when you¡¯re older, better looking, better smelling, and overall less Fritz-y,¡± Jane mocked. Greg guffawed while Toby snorted along at the jibe.

    ¡°Fritz couldn''t handle even one girl let alone a harem, and I bet he¡¯d bring Albert along for each either way,¡± Toby said as he joined in on the teasing.

    ¡°Hey! What lady could hope to resist the double deal of Fritz and Bert? Nay what mortal could ever hope to elude the charms, the deliciousness of a Fritzbert sandwich?¡± Fritz responded to the mocking in false outrage.

    Seeing an opportunity to raise the spirits of his crew and dispell the brewing tension in the air, he stood suddenly and spoke to the whole cellar, projecting his voice into the stony corners.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know if we weren¡¯t so busy meeting our quotas we¡¯d be a romancing maelstrom, the womenfolk of the Sunken Ring would never know another night''s unsatisfaction,¡± he stated, opening his arms and slowly turning, a gesture that addressed the whole room.

    ¡°Alas for us! We poor folk that are burdened with both our beauty and our duty, and although the flesh is willing, enduring and as unceasing as the tides. It is an unfortunate reality that as capable as we are, there are but two of us,¡± Fritz hung his head and clenched his hand to his heart before continuing.

    ¡°It is but a limitation of time, not of spirit. There are sadly simply not enough hours in the day or night to please all comers. Worry not dear ladies, we will try! We. Will. Try.¡± Fritz boasted, channelling a fervent bravado, a sort of manic performance. His head upraised as if challenging the Final Spire and all the Gods themselves.

    It was obvious to Fritz that the others were now listening to them and had been all along, since even before he stood. The quiet and whispering were broken by the obvious tittering of some of the girls and the scoffing and boos of all the boys as Fritz put on his little show.

    Show no fear, act a little crazy, get them on your side, wait for an opening.

    ¡°Do I get a choice in this? Or am I just getting swept along in this ro-maelstrom? Because I prefer the expression love typhoon,¡± Bert rejoined. Adding his own considerable flair as he also stood up, opposite Fritz, and spun in a twirl, whipping his matted blond and bloody mop of hair around to emphasise the word typhoon.

    ¡°Unluckily for us, I¡¯m sure the Scale Guard would put out a hurricane warning, or rather, a sensuous storm warning and all the virtuous will hide behind their tightly closed doors and barred windows, so as not to be blown away,¡± Bert grinned into the gloom as he pretended to dash his friend''s fantasies.

    ¡°Bloody madmen!¡± Steve yelled. "Shut up the both of you!"

    As the rancour of jeers and giggles died down and the quiet was starting to renew its hold, the cellar and all its inhabitants went suddenly silent. It was as if all the air had gone out of the room. There was a sharp rise in tension, then a great pressure bore down on them, causing some to stagger. Fritz felt a great foreboding and he could read the same suspicion on the fearful expressions of his crew.

    It started with a high whine at the edge of hearing, then came a low note that shook his bones, then he was struck with a terrible peal that rattled his entire being. A cacophonous ringing like three thousand iron bells rung in unison, harmonising in an identical, overlapping, excruciating note.

    This is worse than the last toll, much, much worse.

    The sound struck at his mind and body, racking it with pain and causing the whole world to tremble. Fritz curled into a ball hugging his legs to his chest. He screamed, adding his voice to the overwhelming clamour. He could feel the bone-deep, soul-deep vibrations altering him. In a moment of agonising clarity, he realised the ringing was forging the final painful changes, completing the work the Spires had wrought in his being in the previous Tolls. It grew the seed that had been first implanted in his first years, by the unremembered, unacknowledged Toll that started it all, that had primed him for power.

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    Fritz clenched his teeth as he attempted to ride this clarity as far as it reached. He felt a bright vibration in his brain, one that was completely dwarfed by the burning in the centre of his chest. A small star searing right next to his stilled, no, held heart. It was an eternity and an instant of infinite potential, endless knowledge and unlimited power. And then it was gone.

    Left behind in the wake of the sublime resonances was a fuzzy feeling, a dizziness but also a new tiny space. A winking star the size of a flea that Fritz could feel coolly radiant right beside his heart.

    Fritz listened to the soft groans and pained whimperings of his fellow prisoners before Greg growled, ¡°Argh, that really, really hurt, am I going as crazy as Fritz or was that way worse.¡±

    ¡°Of course it''s worse, The sixth toll grants you a connection to your Sanctum. It marks your passing into adulthood. It¡¯s ¡­ an Ascension,¡± A quiet gruff voice lectured.

    Fritz recognised that voice as Sid. In the dim light, Fritz could see a fairly tall man, with bright blue eyes and short, light blonde hair. Sid¡¯s face was bruised but underneath the swelling his small nose, weak chin and high cheekbones were apparent. He wore a loose-fit, faded blue shirt accompanied by his ever-present scarlet scarf, versatile in both keeping him warm and as a makeshift garrote.

    Sid was skinny but had a noticeable amount of whipcord muscle and was probably the tallest there at around 6 feet tall with Fritz being the closest contender at around five foot eleven inches. Sid possessed surprising wiry strength and a quiet fury that Fritz had been on the receiving end a few too many times. They always seemed to be at cross purposes out on the streets and Fritz hoped that wouldn''t continue in their current danger. He already had to watch out for Steve and his crew and having Sid on his back too would be a true nightmare.

    ¡°The Spires Sanctum,¡± A woman protested Sid¡¯s comment.

    ¡°Lives in you. Grows with you. Your sanctum,¡± Sid¡¯s gruff voice argued rhetorically.

    ¡°No religious arguments right now, please. Feel like me brains trying to escape my skull,¡± Greg pleaded.

    ¡°It¡¯s looking for a less confining home I''d bet,¡± Fritz added.

    ¡°What does ¡®connect to your sanctum¡¯ even mean?¡± One of the boys asked.

    Fritz nudged Bert and whispered, ¡°You know most this stuff, explain it to them would you, I¡¯m gonna check out my Sanctum.¡±

    ¡°Yeah but you¡¯re the one who taught me, shouldn¡¯t you take the lead here?¡± Bert suggested obviously a little reluctant to teach.

    ¡°Nope, it¡¯s better coming from someone born on the street like you. They respect you, and will listen all the more for it,¡± Fritz refuted while placing a hand on Bert''s shoulder.

    ¡°Diving in, won''t be long,¡± he said.

    ---

    Albert sighed as he watched his friend close his eyes and turn his attention turn inward.

    ¡°Alright, listen up!¡± Albert¡¯s voice rang out above the small arguments breaking out over the meagre advice, rumours and outright lies the newly Tolled men and women had heard about their Sanctums.

    The room quieted almost instantly.

    Huh, guess Fritz was right. About the listening that is. Everything else¡­ well. He let the thought hang for a second until he came back to himself cleared his throat and continued speaking.

    ¡°Your sanctum is a kind of ¡®mental construct¡¯ you use to view your spire gained Abilities and Attributes as well as Techniques and Traits.¡±

    ¡°What in the Final Spire is a ¡®mental construct¡¯,¡± one of the ragged men asked.

    ¡°It''s like a dream, but it''s always there, you can enter it if you focus on that point next to your heart,¡± Albert informed the listeners. ¡°It''s a little tricky at first I heard but it¡¯s supposed to become second nature. It¡¯s also personal, your dream won¡¯t look or feel the same as anyone else''s. It''s part of you and it will reflect that.¡±

    ¡°There is one other thing, you shouldn¡¯t do it while in danger or you need to be watching out for something. When you enter your sanctum the outside world is still going. You can still feel your body, but won¡¯t notice a knife stabbing at your gut, or a monster lunging to tear out your throat, until it¡¯s far too late,¡± he continued.

    ¡°You all might as well try entering it now, not many distractions in this gloom. I¡¯ll keep a lookout and I¡¯ll shake you if something goes down. I¡¯ll take questions after you¡¯ve all done that.¡±

    People were attempting to dive into their Sanctums, when there was the sound of multiple sets of footsteps thudding down the hall. The lock thunked, and the bar creaked up. The door slammed open swinging with immense force and cracking against the stone of the wall like a hammer blow.

    Jagged Nic walked through the doorway with a spring in his step and a crooked smile up one side of his notched visage. He stood there for a time taking in the room and its inhabitants.

    Albert shook Fritz. And he awoke quickly, even if he looked unusually melancholy, with tears starting to form in his grey-green often all-too-intense stare. His usual wry, self-satisfied smirk had been replaced with a small bittersweet smile as he turned and looked at Albert. He ran his hand through his short black hair in a familiar gesture, one that Albert knew belied Fritz¡¯s distress and bottled fear, and anger.

    Albert was once again struck with the thought that if Fritz ever got enough meals to put some flesh on those gaunt features, he would look as handsome as any dashing noble. With that cleft in his chin, his high cheekbones and that annoyingly regal bearing to his features. Well, maybe he would look dashing if he stopped getting beaten into a bruised mess like he was now.

    But Albert had little hope for that to happen. That would require his infuriating friend to use even a modicum of sense, which he seldom exercised, much to his crew''s chagrin. Albert was broken out of his thoughts when Fritz wiped some still-forming tears away. The idiot had a habit of letting his emotions run hot, one extreme or another. Never just ''fine'' or ''okay''. It would have been exhausting if it weren''t for his ever present, mad, hope. Or was it greed?

    ¡°You good?¡± Albert asked.

    ¡°Fine just saw something¡­ nostalgic. We can talk about it later,¡± Fritz deflected.

    Albert nodded, then drew Fritz¡¯s attention to the door and to the scarred man in front of it. Jagged Nic began to speak, that same tarred gravel voice grinding out again, ¡°Well boys and girls, or should I say men and women,¡± he said, grinning horribly at the crowd.

    ¡°Time to get moving, the ladies come with me,¡± Jagged Nic ordered his eyes darted over their scared faces with a cruel glee. ¡°Now!¡± he barked as they were slow to comply.

    There was a scraping beside him, Fritz had been sitting but now he was standing with fists clenched. Albert stood up to join him, and as he did so Fritz flicked his gaze to his, their eyes locked.

    His eyes told him, I¡¯m not letting them take Jane or anyone else if I can help it.

    Fritz was hopelessly chivalrous sometimes, but Albert was of the same mind in this matter. They nodded in silent agreement. Same plan as always then. Fritz and Blitz.

    ---

    ¡°Oi Nic! You snivelling squid for brains, do you shave with a bloody hatchet?¡± Fritz yelled out while striding straight toward Jagged Nic, who for his part only looked mildly annoyed. ¡°Obviously you¡¯re just as bad at shaving as you are at thinking ''cause you missed a spot here.¡±

    When Fritz was within arms reach of the man in the oil-coat, he threw out a left-handed jab at Nic¡¯s jaw and followed up with the strongest right hook he could muster in his dishevelled state. Right into the man''s side. It didn¡¯t go as Fritz planned.

    Nic barely reacted, he just watched, disinterested as the fists came at him. When the punches landed it was with a crack and a thump. Fritz felt like he was punching a solid pillar of rock wrapped in an oilskin. None of the sponginess you would expect of skin and muscle, the man was an unyielding slab of stone.

    ¡°What the Spires was that? Are you such a coward that you even wear armour to kidnap a bunch of levelless kids?¡± Fritz said while shaking out his battered hands dramatically in an attempt to distract Nic.

    Bert swept into the fight with a brutal low kick to Nic¡¯s knee from behind. Fritz was tempted to smile when he heard the thud of it landing. But was horrified instead when Bert howled in pain and clutched his shin. He hopped away, gritted his teeth and flanked Nic. Fritz and Bert prepared for another rush.

    ¡°No armour, don¡¯t need it, just me skin. So even if I shaved with a hatchet, it can''t cut me, boy,¡± Nic said grinning an evil grin, all hard edges.

    Suddenly, there was a blurring in the air that encompassed Nic¡¯s arms for a moment. An immense force hit Fritz like a battering ram, he felt the air leave his lungs and his feet leave the floor. He crashed onto his back, the cold stone greeting him painfully.

    Bert was similarly flung from his feet and landed in a sprawl. Gasps went out amongst the captives. Groans came from Fritz and Bert, as they lay stunned on the ground.

    ¡°As I was saying. Ladies with me, blokes with Jeb, dresses will just drag you down where you¡¯re going. So, this way to get changed into something more practical. Unless you want to do it in here, with these ¡®fine¡¯ lads. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll look away and at the wall if you ask ¡®em,¡± Nic drily added as he spat on the ground near the fallen Fritz.

    The women looked around the cellar at the men around them and made up their minds instantly. Standing up and gathering to where Nic directed, Jane promptly joined them.

    ¡°No trust, none at all. What have we done to deserve such a reputation?¡± Fritz managed to wheeze out of his bruised chest.

    Jane merely rolled her eyes and said, ¡°You know why. Mr.¡¯s Romance Maelstrom and Love Typhoon.¡±

    The women shuffled out behind Nic in a tight nit group. The men stood and followed Jeb. Fritz and Bert got to their feet painfully, but reluctantly followed along in the back of the group. Jeb was a short, sandy-haired, scarred and thoroughly unpleasant man.

    That¡¯s a reoccurring theme here, Fritz thought arms cradling his aching rib cage. They were led through a low-ceilinged hallway, walking towards what sounded like sloshing water.

    What abyss have they got in store for us?

    Dread and fear were really starting to get their hooks into Fritz. He had seldom felt so powerless, maybe his first days on the street, before he met Bert, maybe when his home was ransacked in front of him, maybe when¡­

    No, no dwelling snap out of it, try to survive, survive so you can help them. They need you. He shook his head, drowning the unwanted memories trying to surface.

    Fritz focused on walking, he didn¡¯t feel like his ribs were broken but he did take a powerful hit, he wondered at that.

    Was that magic? A spell? Or was he just moving so fast I couldn¡¯t see his strike?

    Fritz had heard tales of people who had completed a Spire having extraordinary powers far beyond even Pathers. Pathers were already deadly to levelers and they even far stood above the leveless.

    The bits and pieces of information that he knew from memory told him there was a huge difference, he hadn¡¯t really believed it though. But now, seeing was believing. Fritz wondered if he could attain that power, if he could use it, could it help him?

    Or is that just the Spire''s trap, another dead orphan, his blood spilled upon its floors? One thing for sure, if he could find out, if he could gain those same powers, he would risk it.

    They left the hallway, pulling Fritz out of his thoughts and back into the present. When he looked around he found himself in a smooth, stone cavern with a huge domed roof. It obviously wasn¡¯t natural, it looked too symmetrical, too perfect to be anything but shaped. Shaped by what or by whom he knew not, all he could guess was: it must be magic.

    The others being led in were also looking around in wonder at this cavernous ceiling. Though eventually most had their attention drawn by the sloshing of water only to find its source just fifteen feet away and down a short drop.

    There right before Fritz''s disbelieving eyes, was an underground lake. Its surface rippled with unusual eddies and waves. Gone was the cobble or brick of the tunnel, they were standing on a small cliff of that same smooth stone of the roof with a lip that looked over and into brackish water. The smell of salt was heavy in the air undercut with a slight but lingering scent of rot.

    In what must be the centre of the lake he could see the tip of a stone tower. No, a Spire, jutting out of the waves. It looked like the peak of a lighthouse, a shimmering glass cage glowing with an eerie blue-green radiance that twisted the shadows it cast into odd and disturbing shapes.

    The Spire¡¯s light had so captivated the whole group that they didn¡¯t even notice the women arriving, joining them in their mute wonder. Their dresses were replaced with short trousers and sleeveless shirts, those with longer hair also had it tied back in ponytails, buns or braids using some coarse twine. It was only when Nic cleared his throat, spitting into the lake''s eddies, that Fritz was shaken out of his reverie and could focus again on what was around him.

    ¡°You were wondering why you¡¯re here? What we want from you? Look no further. Feast your eyes on the Sunken Spire,¡± Nic grinned, his scarred face a rictus of sadistic glee and of vicious remembrance.

    Fritz knew then, looking upon that terrible expression, that few of them were to survive this ordeal.

    He just hoped he and Bert would be amongst their number.

 Chapter 3

    Waves broke below Fritz, the sound of splashing echoing oddly in the too-smooth dome. Before anyone had time to gather their wits and ask anything of their captor-guide, Jagged Nic spoke up, cutting off any questions before they began.

    ¡°I bet a lot of you are thinkin¡¯ ¡®I ain''t never heard of no Sunken Spire¡¯ if you¡¯re thinkin¡¯ anythin¡¯ at all.¡± Nic derided. ¡°That''s cause it¡¯s a secret, known only to the Nightshark, his gang leaders and a chosen few others,¡± He added emphasising secret with grave importance.

    ¡°Why are you here? To give you a chance to climb a Spire. Why not let you climb the Mer Spire in the Upper Ring? A so-called ¡®Rookie Spire¡¯? Well, that''s cause the Nightshark don¡¯t wanna pay a gold triad per head for all you worthless gutter rats.¡±

    Most of the group looked terrified at this pronouncement, though some looked angry. A couple of the captives yelled and cursed at Nic, but he ignored them. Fritz was scared for sure, and more than a little furious, but he held his tongue. A chance to climb a Spire, a secret one no less, filled him with an inexplicable excitement.

    ¡°So what you lot is gonna do if you want to survive is listen to me, no interruptin¡¯, no squabblin¡¯ or fightin¡¯ and if you want to run maybe think about why this place is still a secret. I¡¯ll tell you it ain¡¯t cause we let people go, or run their mouths, you can be sure about that,¡± Nic threatened casually.

    ¡°Got it!?¡± He growled glaring down those few willing to glare back at him and silencing the angry cursing.

    Most nodded as he stared at them, and the others looked away entranced by the eerie blue-green light that pulsed softly in the distance, glittering off the rippling water.

    ¡°Right. What we¡¯re gonna do is give you a sack of gear and tie it to you. Then you¡¯re gonna pick up one of these heavy stones, pick a spot a foot or two from the water then put the stone down in front of you. We¡¯re gonna give you a potion, which you will drink. Then you pick up the stone again and jump right into the lake.¡± He motioned at a pile of stones ranging from the size of a head to a torso while making his absurd statement.

    ¡°You just need to hold on to the stone till you get to the bottom. Drop it, then swim to the entrance of the Spire, where you start your first floor. Easy-peasy,¡± Nic said disregarding the obvious difficulty of the task.

    ¡°Oh and don¡¯t piss off the Armoured sharks. Or the Quicksilver Swordfish, or the Blade Squid. Or anythin¡¯ really, down there under the waves. They¡¯ll leave you alone if you leave them alone, but they¡¯re mean buggers if you mess with them. I¡¯ll tell you what,¡± he added running a thumb over one large scar that reached from the base of his wrist to the end of his elbow.

    ¡°Got any tips for once we¡¯re in the Spire? Uh... sir,¡± Steve asked meekly.

    ¡°I was gettin¡¯ to that,¡± Nic scowled then spat again.

    ¡°Right. You all have Sanctums now, don¡¯t bother looking at your Attributes or Abilities or anythin¡¯ like that. You got none, you all start at zero.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care if you think you¡¯re smarter, stronger or faster than your mates. Maybe you are, but it won''t show up. The sanctum tracks magic, the ¡®enhancements¡¯, you¡¯ve gotten from the Spire.¡±

    ¡°Your sanctum will be different to anybody else''s and can be confusing or just weird to read. So you can always think ¡®Spire Readout¡¯ and you will be given a ¡®Spire Sheet¡¯ that will tally up and show your gained abilities and powers. As well as telling you how the Ability or Attribute works when you focus on ''em¡¯.¡±

    ¡°What if you can¡¯t read or count good?¡± Steve piped up again, looking down and worrying at his threadbare grey tunic.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that, even if you cant read, you can read it easy. It¡¯s for everyone to be able to use, or so I¡¯ve heard. Plus you¡¯ll find counting much easier now, something about the Sixth Toll does that, don¡¯t ask me why I don¡¯t know why,¡± Nic replied not scowling at him for once. Then he held up three fingers and continued his lecture.

    ¡°Once you get in the Spire there will be a Door Room, three choices for three different floors. Form a group of three, six or nine at most, choose a door and go through. I shouldn¡¯t have to tell you all this but I will anyways, since I¡¯m nice, and because some of you are idiots who would attack someone who has a Path and many more levels besides.¡± He glared pointedly at Fritz.

    ¡°Thick-skulled skulg-suckers like that don¡¯t know the first thing about the world we live in, so I¡¯ll explain a thing even a child should know.¡±

    ¡°The Spires like threes and climbing without threes is a way to earn the Spire¡¯s Spite.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t wanna do that. The floors will be harder, there will be more traps, nasty surprises happen far more often and there will be more monsters. Best to leave when you can if you lose someone and are no longer in threes,¡± Nic advised callously.

    ¡°Oh yeah, leaving. You can leave on floors one, three and ten once you¡¯ve cleared them. You can never climb down floors so bring everything you want or need to the next floor. Or don¡¯t, I don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°If you clear your first floor and go up its staircase you¡¯ll be brought into a ¡®Well Room¡¯, It''s not always a well but it''s basically the same no matter what appears. We call it that cause if you reach that far you¡¯re doing well,¡± He chuckled darkly at the small joke he had told too many times for it actually to be funny. ¡°Anyways drink the water, touch an idol, whatever is in the room use it and then you¡¯ll get your Attribute Points and an Ability.¡±

    ¡°Your first ability gained will always be a choice of three Activated Abilities and since you won''t have one of the Magic Attributes it will cost stamina, that is your body''s energy to move and do stuff.¡±

    ¡±Be warned if you have no stamina left it will take it from your body. It will take it from your health, I wouldn¡¯t risk it,¡± Nic warned gravely.

    ¡°Every floor cleared gives you Attribute points. And adds one to your level. Levels don¡¯t really do anything it''s just a record of how many floors you¡¯ve cleared, but it''s a good way as any to judge the strength of a climber,¡± Nic Shrugged as if it were all the same to him.

    ¡°Second floor will give you a choice of three Passive Abilities, and then from then on the Abilities are random. The Third floor clear will give you a Path, an Ability and a Power, and from then you get Abilities every third floor you climb and a Power on the tenth floor of any Spire. That¡¯s about it.¡±

    ¡°Your first Spire is always special, those first three floors clears are very rewarding and you never get them again,¡± Nic said as wistfully as his gravelled tones could manage.

    ¡°Right, I think that¡¯s everything, grab your sacks, tie them tightly and then go pick up a rock and stand a foot or two from the edge,¡± Nic ordered breaking out of his thoughtfulness.

    ¡°Quickly now!¡± Nic shouted as people just stared at him.

    Fritz and Bert glanced at each other nodded and went to grab a sack. The sacks were rough cloth affairs with equally coarse drawstring keeping them closed. They were in an assortment of colours mostly brown grey and light blue. Fritz saw Jane in her ¡®new¡¯ yellowed shirt and short trousers with her mousy hair in a ponytail. She picked through the pile of sacks until she found one she liked picking it out of the rest, he could see why she liked it as it had a faded lilac colouring.

    Fritz and Bert picked out almost identical grey bags then grasped their forearms together while exclaiming, ¡°Bag-Brothers!¡± in unison.

    The others gave them strange looks but Albert and Fritz¡¯s crew merely rolled their collective eyes.

    The crew gathered around them and turned to him and Bert ¡°What''s the move? We walking into this deathtrap?¡± Toby asked darkly.

    ¡°I believe we¡¯ll be swimming into this particular deathtrap,¡± Fritz replied flippantly. ¡°Still what choice do we have, they won''t let us live if we know the secret and aren¡¯t useful. Plus it''s a chance for us, a chance at power, at doing more than just petty crimes or odd jobs.¡±

    ¡°It seems more like a chance at drowning or getting¡¯ eaten by monster fish,¡± Greg groused rubbing at his lumpy scalp.

    ¡°Maybe it won''t be so bad, I mean it is a Spire. Usually you have to pay to enter. But I''m still not keen on dying,¡± Jane said worriedly.

    ¡°It''s a chance to better our futures. Think on that,¡± Fritz said steadily. ¡°We¡¯re surviving now, but what about in a couple of years, will we ever have the chance to save as much as a gold triad each? If not, what then? What choices will we have? Can we really keep on with what we¡¯re doing?¡±

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    Fritz asked speculatively.

    The crew lapsed into a dark contemplative silence. Fritz felt the need to push a little more to stir their ambition, so he entreated them again.

    ¡°Jane, Toby you want a family don¡¯t you?¡± Jane and Toby gazed at each other making eye contact, then they both looked away quickly blushing in embarrassment. Bert and Fritz grinned at the reaction and Greg let out a small laugh.

    ¡°How did you know? No wait that doesn¡¯t matter, so what of it?¡± Jane blurted out quickly reddening further.

    ¡°Well, do you want that family to survive like we do?¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°No,¡± Toby said for her.

    ¡°And you Greg, what better way to get some more rugged scars than from monsters in the Spire? Some might even cover up that terrible excuse for a face,¡± Fritz continued quickly. Greg began to growl something but Fritz cut him off.

    ¡°Plus you¡¯ll be strong, stronger than anyone who used to beat or threaten you. You could get a little payback or even a lot of payback when you¡¯re done with the Spire. Might even get your own gang, who knows what the city has in store for Pather Greg?¡±

    A cruel light lit up in Greg¡¯s ugly visage and he nodded in appreciation at the idea. Then one by one they turned to Bert, waiting on his answer.

    ¡°You know I hate to say it. I really do. But I think Fritz is right. We go for it. We get to the spire and wait on the stragglers. Wait for about an hour in the Door Room, I think, just in case something happens to someone in the lake.¡± Fritz tried to look abashed but no one was buying it so he let Bert continue. ¡°Then we climb, we¡¯re going for a path,¡± Bert said, a serious cast to his usually playful demeanour. ¡°We gotta climb with six though, any votes on who else should join?¡±

    ¡°Sid,¡± Toby and Jane said together.

    ¡°Sid¡¯s tough, so him,¡± Greg readily agreed.

    ¡°Sid, agreed,¡± Bert continued.

    ¡°Anyone but Sid,¡± Fritz added too slowly, then his face soured turning into a grimace of consternation as he realised all the votes were against him. ¡°Fine, bring Sid what¡¯s another deadly foe in this dire adventure anyway.¡±

    ¡°What''s this about me?¡± Sid¡¯s gruff voice said from behind Fritz.

    Fritz didn''t jump in alarm, not at all.

    ¡°We want you to climb the Spire with us, if we all make it that is. Five and one is six after all,¡± Bert said amiably to the intruder.

    ¡°You want me to climb with your crew?¡± He looked over their faces one by one as they nodded agreement until he stopped on Fritz¡¯s grimace. ¡°Even little Fritzy? Or is he still scared of me from the last time I caught him?¡± Sid mocked, pulling at his scarlet scarf and meeting Fritz''s eyes.

    Fritz wanted to punch Sid but thought that would end badly in his case anyway. So he swallowed his pride, gained control of his features then smiled roguishly at Sid. Fritz straightened his back, put his chin up a little, then spoke in the most agreeable, charming manner he could, staring into Sid¡¯s eyes the whole while.

    ¡°Of course we want you! You¡¯re capable and strong, as my neck can attest to,¡± Fritz said rubbing at his throat. ¡°We are in desperate need of good company and skilled individuals. You of course, exceed our requirements in both categories enormously, so we would be honoured if you would join us. I cordially invite you to the Fritzbert climbing party. And I personally would be delighted if you graced us with your expertise,¡± Fritz exhorted channelling as much sycophantic energy as he could.

    Sid didn¡¯t react how Fritz thought he would. Fritz predicted Sid would just get angry at his foppery, refuse them, then leave in anger. As he had hoped. But instead, Sid broke off eye contact, his cheeks reddening a little, or was that just a product of this weird light?

    ¡°Yeah uh, if you survive the swim, I¡¯ll join your team. Uhh see you there,¡± Sid said almost mumbling and hurried away to go get his gear.

    ¡°Huh, didn¡¯t think he¡¯d agree,¡± commented Fritz.

    ¡°Eh, he¡¯s not so bad if you stay out of his way, which is why you have so much trouble with him Fritz. Never know you to do anything smart when it comes to staying out of something,¡± Toby espoused sagely.

    ¡°Let''s get our rocks,¡± Bert suggested. The crew split up, walking away to grab stones from the pile.

    When Fritz was sure his gear was firmly strapped to him with chords of coarse rope he meandered over to the stone pile. He picked out a stone the size of his head and, with a small struggle, picked it up, trudged to a spot by the cliffs lip and placed it down in front of himself just as he was instructed to do. He could see the rest of his crew lining themselves up similarly with stones at their feet.

    Fritz heard a scuffle, someone was trying to run down the passage they entered the dome from but he was simply caught and dragged back by another of the men on oil-coats.

    ¡°You¡¯re going in the lake one way or the other, dead, alive, don¡¯t matter much to me, but orders is orders and thirty is a good number to attempt the climb. Auspicious the boss calls it. And you wouldn''t want to ruin that lucky number now would ya,¡± an instantly familiar malicious croak said.

    Fritz scrutinised the man in the oil coat, one of the ones who had abducted him. He had lank black hair that fell past his shoulders, dark almost black eyes and an expression of utter boredom, even as he dragged the once fleeing man to the edge of the lake. The guy tried to fight him off but he was completely outmatched, the thug''s strength far above his own. Eventually, the man stopped struggling and stood still where he was held.

    ¡°Stay here,¡± he ordered.

    The lank-haired thug strode away to the stone pile, seized a heavy rock, one the size of Fritz¡¯s torso and picked it up as if it were only a sack of flour. Striding back he forced it into the defeated man''s arms, who promptly dropped it. The stone slipped right through the captives hands and crashed onto his foot with a terrible sound like a melon being split.

    He screamed in agony and fell over, yanking at the stone with all his might until it revealed the crushed foot underneath. Two of the toes were set in unnatural angles and the foot had an obvious dent, bone shattered where the stone had been dropped. Fritz winced in sympathy, but didn¡¯t move to help the man.

    ¡°Oops,¡± The lank-haired man said a smirk on his face. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a lighter one then.¡±

    The man sobbed over his broken foot until the lank-haired man came back with a smaller, this time head-sized, stone. The man with the broken foot stared up at him, eyes filled with tears of pain and hate, a whole lot of hate.

    This just made the other man chuckle maliciously, but content with his ¡®prank¡¯ he just walked off looking for someone else to torment.

    ¡°Don¡¯t pick on em¡¯ too much Kev, thirty need to go into the water, that¡¯s what the boss said. I don¡¯t want to be flogged ''cause you went too far with your fun,¡± one of the other oil coats griped at the lank-haired man.

    ¡°Mind your own tasks mate, don¡¯t be a buzzkill,¡± Kev retorted scowling at the other oil coat, who held his stare for a moment then turned away muttering to himself.

    Fritz looked down and away immediately, trying to avoid Kev¡¯s eye, trying to keep his face out of the man''s sight. He pretended to check and recheck his gear sack¡¯s bindings, dreading to think what would happen if he were noticed. Fritz sighed when Nic called out to them, relieved he hadn¡¯t drawn Kev¡¯s attention, that man looked to be one who could hold a grudge.

    Fritz knew that because he too nursed a grudge, old and painful, against all those who ruined his family, his life. The Guides Guild, the noble and the murderer. Fritz was suddenly aware that he was grinding his teeth. Not now, his logic pleaded. Pay attention, pull yourself out of those bitter memories, they¡¯re not needed now.

    Fritz wiped away the light sheen of sweat that was beginning to bead on his forehead from the stress, the anger boiling within and the constant light mist from the churning waves. In an effort of will he broke out of his turbulent thoughts, focused on the present then smiled at his fortune. He hadn¡¯t been seen, things were going to go his way, just as they should.

    Fritz realised Nic had been talking and he bent his ear to hear the explanations, and now he was out of his emotional haze he could finally make meaning out of the man''s rough words.

    ¡°Right¡± ¡°Potion''s coming round, it¡¯ll let you hold your breath, drink it up and then take one big breath, don¡¯t let it out or you lose it and we ain¡¯t wasting another dose on you. That breath you take will last about thirty minutes but don¡¯t dawdle, Spire¡¯s further than you think. The Spire Door will be deep, near the bottom of the lake. Hold your rock as tight as a sweetheart until you hit the bottom and then walk or swim to the Door. If you do that you¡¯ll survive.¡± Nic lectured in that phlegmy rough voice.

    ¡°Good climbing levelless, grab a Path if you can, but don¡¯t bother coming back without your first level,¡± Nic said with an attempt at a kind smile, it was almost as terrifying as his scowl.

    The men in oil coats came around with clay jars of some foul green-grey liquid that bubbled and smelled of overcooked shoes. Fritz saw Jane choke down the drink, take a huge breath and fling herself into the water. She was followed by Toby, Sid, Greg and then next up was Bert. He nodded at Fritz then leaped into the lake, holding a stone to his chest, splashing into the, now roiling, water and sinking into the depths.

    It was Fritz''s turn to drink from one of the clay jars. However putrid it smelled it tasted worse, he gagged but managed to keep the vile potion down. He bent then heaved up his stone and took in a deep breath when a hand grabbed his shoulder. Fritz glanced sideways at the hand the and the man belonged to. Fritz''s stomach dropped.

    Kev grinned at him and croaked out with a smirk ¡°Hang on there, your shoelaces are untied, we can¡¯t forget that now can we.¡±

    Fritz wanted to yell, to catch someone''s eye as Kev knelt and tied the laces of Fritz¡¯s hard leather boots together in interlaced, muddled knots. Everyone else was either gone down into the eerie waves or watching on with grim delight. Anger and outrage threatened to bubble out of Fritz in a torrent, but held his breath in swallowing down the wild emotions that threatened to overtake him.

    He knew that to survive he would need every minute of breath, every ounce of luck and every drop of skill he could muster.

    ¡°Oh, and you won''t be needing this,¡± Kev said as he unknotted and reached into the grey sack at Fritz¡¯s waist. He removed a rusted and pitted pig-iron knife from the bag and sheathed it into his own belt. Kev tightened the sack back up and gave Fritz one last cruel smirk. He slapped his hand painfully hard on Fritz¡¯s shoulder and left it there.

    ¡°There we go, all ready to dive. Eyes on the water,¡± Kev said in a cheery croak. Fritz obeyed looking in that glinting blue-green murk, trying to make out the shapes of his crew.

    Kev moved out of the centre of Fritz¡¯s vision, walking to stand beside him still keeping his vice-like grip on Fritz¡¯s shoulder. He stood there for a full minute waiting for the next shoe to drop.

    ¡°What are you waiting for scaredy-skulg, get diving!¡± Kev yelled right into Fritz¡¯s ear painfully loud, catching Fritz by surprise almost startling him enough to trip over.

    The hand on Fritz¡¯s shoulder let go, and then he felt a shove from behind pushing him forward into am uncontrolled lurch. His feet were too tightly bound to each other to catch his balance so he attempted a sort of hopping dive that quickly turned into an ungainly forward face flop straight into the eerie, blue-green glistening waves.

    Fritz sank.

 Chapter 4

    The lake was freezing, Fritz¡¯s muscles cramped as he sunk through the darkening gloom under the eldritch waves. His chest heaved and he had to resist letting out his lungful of air as the icy cold sank deep into his flesh. Fritz made sure to clutch to his rock with all the grip he could muster even though he began to shiver violently and his body disobeyed his will to be still.

    He held on, letting the cold take its toll, feeling the shivers rack his flesh until it settled into a biting numbness. Maybe a minute into his tortuous sinking Fritz started to feel a heat building in his chest. He focused on the warmth, at first thinking it was a figment of his imagination but he realised it was radiating out from his lungs and soaking into his chest in a blissful, stinging sensation. The potion? he questioned. He could think of no other explanation so he went with it.

    Of course, it¡¯s the magic potion, lets you hold your breath and warms you up, how very useful. It''s magic of course, easy, simple, not at all surprising. Just a magic potion, Fritz reassured himself.

    The blue-green light that illumined the water faded away into darkness as he descended.

    Fritz sunk ever further into the depths, keeping his mind focused on the unusual but very welcome warmth and not on thoughts of despair. The brutal, bone-chilling cold retreated, first from his centre then from his previously numb limbs. His shivering stopped completely and he could feel his hands again, even if they were just gripping to an ice-cold stone.

    He could find a way out of this he told himself. Just hit the bottom then undo the interlaced knots of his shoelaces, if that didn¡¯t work just pull off your boots. No big deal he lied.

    Fritz¡¯s descent continued like this for a couple more dreadful minutes, he looked around in the wet dark trying to catch a glimpse of his crew or anyone else. Anything to make this gloom less oppressive. Less lonesome. But all he could see was the muted radiance of the blue-green peak of the Spire, hovering overhead like a terrible, malevolent moon.

    Fritz hit the lake''s basin, a cloud of metallic silt leaping up around him and obscuring what little he could see in a shimmering wall of green-grey with blue-green sparks. When the silt had settled he found himself on top of a shore of stones, hundreds of stones, similar in size and weight to his own stretching out to either side. The piled rocks formed a slope that started at the slick cliff wall and eventually ended in a smooth, stone basin, maybe an inverted twin to the dome overhead, too dark and deep to see the bottom of. He promptly dropped his rock and let fall to join its fellows.

    Fritz sat on the stones and attempted to wrestle with his boots. They were thoroughly stuck to him, even more so than usual due to their being soaked. Heavy like rocks themselves, they weighed him down. He cursed his habit of lacing his boots so tightly, it was coming back to bite him, or bind him really. With that avenue blocked he turned his attention to the laces and the innumerable knots.

    The maze of laces was unyielding and nigh incomprehensible in the gloom, still, he pulled on them frantically, trying to find a weak point or a loose knot. To no avail. He struggled for another precious, dwindling minute until in frustration he looked around for anything sharp. A slightly jagged rock would do fine. Unfortunately, terribly, the rocky shore''s stones and their edges were all far to blunt to be of any use.

    He considered abandoning his efforts to free his feet, and simply resigning himself to half-crawl-half-swim along the bottom of the stony basin. But it turned out, that without his legs to propel him properly, he would move too slow, far too slow when he was already counting down the minutes of breath he had remaining. Fritz soon came to the conclusion, that with his boots binding him as they were, he would make little progress towards the Spire. Little progress with a lot of struggle, he needed another plan.

    In the darkness nothing moved that is until he saw a flicker of light to his right, a small shine of blue-green and then gone.

    Fritz thought on Nic¡¯s words about Armoured sharks and other nasty, metal fish-monsters. Spires tended to create or let loose strange monsters, something about a ¡®mana-alignment-demesne.¡¯ Well, at least that''s what Fritz remembered his father saying. Spires could become a menace if they are not cleared out regularly, or so it was said.

    Fritz¡¯s father had also said that, usually, the monsters outside a Spire aren¡¯t as deadly or horrible as the ones beyond the Spire''s ¡®demesne¡¯ in the lands between Spires nor as bad as the ones in the Spire itself.

    Usually, but this isn''t usual, not usual at all, his treacherous mind whispered.

    Fritz shuddered, hoping he wasn¡¯t noticed by the creature already but it also gave him an idea.

    One of the monsters Nic mentioned was called a ''quicksilver swordfish'' right? The operative word being sword, which sounds like it might be sharp. Sharp enough to cut through my bootlaces? Possibly. Sharp enough to cut me to ribbons? Yes definitely, he mused.

    A last resort, he told himself even if he knew it was basically a forgone conclusion unless there was something useful in this sack tied to his side.

    With trembling care and tortuous trepidation Fritz unfastened the drawstring of the sack, looking within. His hand rooted around in its dark contents.

    The majority of the bag was filled with a blanket-sized roll of oilcloth, the same brown of the oil coats Nic and the other thugs had been wearing, well it would be brown if not for this eerie light. With it were nine waxpaper-wrapped, rectangular bars, a ball of twine, a water skin he assumed was filled with fresh water. Lastly there was a wax-sealed circular tin, about the size of his palm, that was made of some metal but he couldn¡¯t tell what kind because of the gloom.

    He stuffed all the items back into the sack save one of the wrapped bars. He drew the drawstring tight and looked closely at the bar. The waxpaper was stamped with the seal of the King of Rain, must be for his sailors and soldiers.

    The waxpaper itself Fritz knew was made of a woven reed fibre, useless for taking ink but great for wax sealing. It was immersed into a pot of thin boiling skulg-wax and then used to wrap whatever you needed to be wrapped. The process made the woven fibres extremely brittle once it cooled, but it was plentiful, cheap and kept out the water.

    Not important right now, he chided himself.

    He cracked open the paper and inside found a hard grey substance that looked like mould in the blue-green light. He broke a bit off. It was flaky like dried fish and it wasn¡¯t difficult to pull apart in drank the water making it soggy and paste-like.

    Fritz realised it was some sort of ration bar, he had seen them and stolen one once before. He hadn¡¯t repeated the theft as they were truly foul tasting things made for desperate sailors at sea, or perhaps an equally desperate climber in a Spire. He quickly re-wrapped both the piece he had broken off and the untouched part, he didn''t want it to get too soggy or attract something in these waters.

    Yet.

    Fritz looked for a staging ground for his plan.

    Somewhere close, I can use these rocks to my advantage. he schemed.

    He spied a good spot not too far from where he sat. A spot to set his trap. He began a sort of swimming, shimmying crawl. His hands grabbed at stones and he pulled himself along until he made it to his goal.

    Fritz started shifting the stones and it proved a hard task. Weighed down by the water, his limbs moved slowly and he felt heavy. He spent another few minutes building a sort of hole or ¡®cave¡¯ of the loose stones, with smaller stones supporting the largest, heaviest rock he could lift. It sat on top ready to fall. Satisfied with his ¡®cave¡¯ Fritz reopened the ration and placed it deep within the hole. He kept its paper wrapping, then moved to the side of the entrance and hid, staying as still the stones around him.

    Fritz hoped he wasn''t imagining the flashes of light streaking his way. It would be there then gone. Was it getting closer? Am I wasting what little time I have? Maybe if I had made a run for it, no crawl for it maybe I would be closer? No, I''m not going anywhere with my legs bound like this, without being able to kick correctly I''d be as slow and clumsy as a skulg, he worried.

    Then the glistening of light a green-blue metallic blur in the water. It moved incredibly fast to Fritz''s eyes, zipping quickly in a straight line then stopping, then zipping again in a line of blue green light. It was getting ever closer to Fritz and his hiding spot. When the creature was within feet of him it hung still in the water for a few seconds, he could finally get a good look at what he¡¯d lured to his cave.

    It was a long, sleek fish around nine feet long with metallic, shimmering scales. Its fins looked razor sharp and it had a long thin blade at its front as if it were a nose. The blade looked almost as long as one of Fritz¡¯s fathers'' rapiers but it didn''t quite have that same straight edge. He could see that it had a sort of opalescent shimmer and looked as sharp as and sword he¡¯d seen in his life.

    That blade could skewer, cut and rend a man to ribbons with very little effort, Fritz thought apprehensively, fear slowly creeping into his gut. His deep resolve steeled him, his determination to survive no matter the odds.

    Well, it¡¯s quick, possibly silver and has a sword. Yep, it must be that swordfish Nic said not to mess with.

    Time to mess with it.

    Fritz waited and watched, his feet resting on an integral support stone at the cave¡¯s entrance. He was as patient as a thief, likely because he was one. The fish remained in place, it jerked its head back and forth its blade swishing through the water with a deadly grace. It seemed to be searching, looking out with cloudy copper eyes and flaring its three slitted gills intensely.

    Suddenly it blurred, speeding into his ''cave'' snapping up the horrible ration bar. A full three quarters of the fish''s length plunged within in the hole. Fritz kicked out with his feet pushing at the supporting stone with all his strength. The stone fell to the side, collapsing the cave¡¯s entrance. The heavy stone roof crashed down slowly onto the monstrous fish. Fritz frantically scrambled on top of the sinking rock, adding his own weight to the underwater avalanche trap.

    The plan worked, mostly.

    The swordfish was caught, it began to thrash as it was pinned by the heavy stone roof and the other rocks of the collapsed cave. Fritz waited as it fought against the crushing stone, its tail writhing and slashing through the water. He hoped it would tire itself out soon, every minute he lost here counted, he prayed to the Final Spire he still had enough air to get to the Spire¡¯s Door.

    The tail eventually stopped thrashing, and the monster fell still, quiet. Luckily for Fritz it had done so quickly, with barely a minute of struggle.

    Had it died suddenly?

    No. Fritz didn''t think so, still, he had to move and move fast. If he wanted to live.

    Fritz crawled down the heavy stone, boots first, and he aligned the tangle of laces with the swordfish''s still tail fin. The fin looked wickedly sharp as it glinted in the strange light, maybe not so much as the sword head but it still looked like a knife''s edge. Which is precisely what Fritz needed in this moment.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    The bootlaces were barely three inches away from the fin''s edge when Fritz felt a shudder in the rock beneath him. He almost screamed in terror but held it in, clamping both hands over his face to seal his mouth. He sat frozen, fearing the monster would get loose and skewer him then shred him into tiny pieces if he so much as moved.

    The shuddering stopped and Fritz calmed his raw nerves and slowed his racing heart. Or he tried to before writing it off as a fool''s errand.

    Now or never.

    He pushed himself into action, knowing another shuddering of the stone would send him over the edge in both body and mind.

    Fritz removed his hands from his mouth placed them on the stone below and pushed himself forward, boot laces first, onto the tail fin¡¯s razor edge. The laces went taut as they touched the sharp edge, they bent around the natural blade. Fritz began to panic thinking the corded laces wouldn''t cut, that the fin wasn¡¯t sharp enough. He pushed against the stone harder and then felt the laces snap, cut and loosen around his feet.

    He was so distracted, so filled with relief that he couldn¡¯t pull himself away from the tail fast enough. It swished and slashed through the murk, reacting to his touch. A line of burning pain shot up his calf as the fin glided into and over his right leg. His trouser¡¯s cloth and the flesh beneath parted with surprising ease.

    In agony Fritz swam away as fast he could, kicking hard with his now free legs. Leaving the metallic monster trapped in the small avalanche he had caused. As the creature struggled the stones started to shift and its bladed nose shot up through a gap in the rocks. He saw it was slowly working its way free of the stones, but Fritz had no time to watch, he had to get as far away as possible.

    He could see a dark substance, floating out of the gash in his calf. Blood he realised, his blood, it appeared black in the blue-green light and was spilling out of him like smoke.

    Have to fix that, can''t have me bleed to death, not when I¡¯ll need all my blood for the Spire, Fritz thought in a delirious haze.

    Fritz reached into his gear sack, muddling about in it and searching for the discarded wax paper of the ration bar and the ball of twine. His trembling hands found both and he stilled them and set to work on his wound. The cut in his calf was cleaner than he had thought, almost an inch of his flesh sliced though as if by a chef''s knife. It burned horribly in the salty, stained water.

    He took the wax paper and plastered it over the cut, trying to seal off the blood escaping his leg. He didn¡¯t want to attract any more fish monsters if he could help it. The wax paper wouldn¡¯t stick as it was waterproof, so he had to use the twine to tie it tightly in place. He pulled the twine taut around his calf constricting the blood flow, while also holding the paper securely to his wound, cinching it off in a strong knot and hoping to the Gods it would hold.

    He glanced back to the Quicksilver Swordfish in worry, he hoped it still struggled to get free. His eyes were really starting to burn in the abominable saltiness. He saw the glittering fish slowly clearing away rocks with controlled bursts of speed. Its charges shifted the stones around it when it struck, gradually widening the hole it made with its blade. Fear welled up in Fritz and he pulled off his boots, he then secured them to his belt with what little remained of the twine and laces. Then he fled, swimming away as quickly as he could, injured leg, blood trail and all.

    He swam towards that blue-green beacon, the only thing he could really see in the dark waters. He pushed his body with all the desperation of a man chased by a monstrous fish, which he was. He kicked forward in a frenzy, barely looking back.

    For minutes or moments he swam, until Fritz saw a glimpse of light, not from behind but just to the right of the Spire''s light. Grimly he continued, fumbling in his bag again trying to grab another ration bar. He missed and grabbed the small sealed tin. He put it in his pocket to keep it out of the way, so he wouldn¡¯t grab it accidentally in a panic. Eventually he seized another wax-papered ration. He held it in his fist as he swam on, ready to tear it apart and dump it as a ''tasty'' distraction.

    More swimming and more flashes of that reflected light met Fritz''s stinging eyes, a large shape was gliding through the water towards him, not as quick or jittery as the Quicksilver Swordfish but just as graceful and at home in the water. The behemoth approaching had dull grey plates for skin, a small seam could be seen between its massive fins and separating its top half from its underside. It had a huge almost triangular head with sightless white eyes and a wide maw filled with jagged dagger-sized fangs.

    It flowed toward Fritz. Attracted to his blood no doubt. Though the makeshift bandage kept most of the blood from escaping its waxpaper prison, it was far from perfect. A small trail of dark liquid followed wherever he kicked his leg before slowly dissolving into the water.

    Fritz tore the ration bar he was holding in two, letting it fall into the blood trail he had been leaving behind. Not a second too soon. The metal shark picked up speed and soared towards Fritz, its jaws snapping in anticipation of a meal.

    The creature''s maw slipped mere inches past Fritz, missing him. He swam into its wake, trying to escape its notice.

    He fled again, ever onward to the beacon, it was slowly getting closer and closer. Without looking back, he would pull another of his ration bars, tearing it open and leaving it behind. He hoped to stall the creature''s stalking his trail. It seemed to work. Until he finally ran out of bars.

    In a moment of dark curiosity, Fritz looked over his shoulder. In the distance he could see the glittering Swordfish darting and slashing at the great lumbering behemoth as it followed Fritz.

    No good, the fish would have to directly hit that strange seam in the shark''s plates and pierce its unarmoured flesh that way to actually hurt it, theorised Fritz as he ploughed on through the dark.

    Hope kindled in Fritz''s chest as the outline of a great pillar of dark grey stone loomed before him.

    Finally, the Spire lay no more than sixty feet in front of him and slightly to the left. He could see a glowing archway below him, twice as tall as himself and four times as wide, rippling with that same blue-green light as the beacon.

    He made towards it, but the warmth in his chest was starting to fade and his lungs were starting to clench in protest. He needed air. He could feel the potion''s effects wearing off, slowly at first but then quicker. Cold began to grasp at his skin, then start to sink beneath it. The heat, his heat, was being choked and smothered.

    Thirty feet away.

    Fritz swam, his tired and freezing limbs cramping, again. His chest spasmed, trying to pull in phantom gasps of air.

    Twenty feet away.

    It wasn''t enough, not enough air not enough time.

    One last gambit then, Fritz.

    He stared out at the fighting fish, hoping they had followed.

    They had.

    The quicksilver swordfish was far in the lead and gaining on Fritz, quickly zipping towards him in a gleaming blur.

    He put himself between the fish and the archway, he unfurled the oil cloth in the water spreading it out and placing it in between him and the swordfish like a dreadfully thin wall or perhaps a curtain.

    Then the last part of the plan, if he could call the desperate action such a thing. He ripped away his makeshift bandage and his blood poured out but it was only a trickle. Fearing it wouldn¡¯t be enough to catch the monster¡¯s attention fast enough he re-opened his wound, pulling at the flesh on either side of the laceration.

    With a grunt, he exposed the deeper cavity of the wound to the briny depths.

    More pain.

    It was finally too much for Fritz.

    He screamed, releasing his last breath that had been imprisoned in his suffocating lungs.

    His vision was going black at the edges.

    His heart was slowing.

    He fought against the urge to breathe in the salty lake.

    Even though he knew he was about to die, Fritz held on.

    Holding the oil-cloth aloft, his heart slowing further and his thoughts turning to mud.

    He was dying, he would die.

    Then a shimmering blade pierced his oil cloth, and he yanked it down, just enough to cause the sword to stab his hip not his gut. Fritz used the oilcloth to wrap the fish''s head, blinding it and causing it to charge forward blurring with its horrifying speed. It sped forward and Fritz wrapped his arms around its neck like a noose and held on.

    There was terrible motion, his shirt flapped and rippled rapidly.

    He was being dragged.

    Through the water at great speed. Backwards. Towards the archway. Like he had planned.

    His heart pumped furiously. He could hear it pounding in his ears.

    It was the only thing he could hear. It was the only thing he knew.

    His sight went black his thoughts disappeared and everything became his heartbeat.

    Everything went still, silent.

    Colour and sound came roaring back, a cacophony of images and half remembrances a meaningless babble of sensations, the cold and the need to breathe being foremost among them.

    Fritz, that''s who he was, took a breath drawing in a huge lung full of air. He coughed and spluttered salty water all over himself. Had he been swimming recently?

    He sat up and tried to take in his surroundings as he shivered violently, using stinging eyes to look around at the unusual room, it was made of some kind of green crystal marbled with blue. Beside him was the large writhing Quicksilver Swordfish. It flopped around helplessly on the floor, its gills flaring attempting to suck in non-existent water. It still wore his oil cloth wrapped around its top half, its head and blade sticking through a now gaping hole in the material.

    The fish struggled, thrashed and scraped its sword and scales against the strange green-blue crystal as it suffocated. Slowly it lost its vigour, its movements became slow and lethargic.

    Fritz pushed away from the razor sharp fish not wanting to get slashed up more than he already was. It was hard work with the numbing cold that leadened his limbs, that and the incessant shivering.

    ¡°Oh Fritz you¡¯re finally here, what took you so long? What in the Abyss is that!?¡± Bert called out shocked.

    ¡°I lost my all gear, but I found a fish,¡± Fritz explained helpfully. Then he lay back down, shivering all the while.

    ¡°I¡¯m very, very cold, oh and I think I¡¯m dying. I have a terrible battle wound on my calf here. I''m just going to die now, tell everyone I did so valiantly, Bert. They won''t believe you, but show them the fish. That¡¯ll convince them of my might, valour and all my great virtue,¡± Fritz chattered melodramatically.

    The scraping and flopping of the fish finally went still and silent, as did the rest of the world, darkness closed in on Fritz.

    Bert''s voice broke the quiet and it was the last thing he heard.

    ¡°You¡¯re not dying, you idiot! Why do you always do this!?¡±

    Fritz valiantly died.

 Chapter 5

    Fritz awoke, this wasn¡¯t the worst way to wake. For one he was significantly warmer than he had been when he passed out. ¡°Ah, is this paradise? It¡¯s so warm and my aches are fading. Is this an avatar of the beautiful Goddess Alestria I see before me, was I worthy enough in death to enter her realm?¡± He asked the bright blue eyes of Sid looming over him.

    Sid, for his part, looked startled, ¡°I don¡¯t know about no goddess, mate, you must be crazy. Seeing things are you?¡± He burst out in a voice gruffer and lower than his usual tone.

    Fritz merely smirked, ¡°My mistake, of course, how could I confuse the vicious ¡°scarf hangman¡± Sid for anything but the thug he is?¡±

    ¡°Feelin¡¯ better? I¡¯ll be takin¡¯ my blanket back then,¡± Sid said vindictively, stealing away one of the many oilcloths covering Fritz.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m still freezing!¡± Fritz lied, trying to hold onto the oilcloth, scattering the others covering his form.

    Sid tore the blanket away from Fritz¡¯s grip and went to give him a gloating stare. Sid¡¯s eyes went wide as he saw Fritz and he turned away, stalking off rapidly instead of continuing their exchange.

    ¡°Huh, why am I naked?¡± Fritz asked at his retreating back ¡°Did you do this? Was this your price for the lending of the blanket? You pervert! And now you run from your crimes!? What of my dignity, and virtue, didn''t Bert tell you of my virtue?! I told him to tell you all!¡± He called after Sid, a crazed grin spreading across Fritz¡¯s face as he put on an absurd show of being outraged.

    He didn¡¯t know why Sid was so bothered but he¡¯d use anything to get under his skin.

    ---

    Sid ran from Fritz¡¯s ridiculous accusations, winding his way through the green-marbled pillars that dotted the Door Room. Eventually, he found his way to the rest of the crew who were standing or sitting around and carving up the Quicksilver Swordfish. They had dragged it here for more space to do the butchering of the monstrous metallic fish.

    ¡°Fritz is up and he¡¯s acting crazy,¡± Sid explained to them.

    ¡°Sounds like Fritz,¡± Toby replied drily as he was scraping the scaly skin from the strangely silver, pale, fish meat.

    ¡°Al, go deal with him, he¡¯s your best friend,¡± Jane chided. ¡°And your bag-brother.¡± She added while stacking the fillets of fish flesh in a wet pile.

    ¡°He¡¯s always the worst when he wakes up, especially if he¡¯s hurt,¡± Albert groused. ¡°But fine, he is, after all, my bag-brother,¡± Albert said stoically.

    Greg grunted, Jane smiled and Toby simply rolled his eyes.

    ¡°Sid, you¡¯re strong come over here and help me snap these bones, they¡¯re way tougher than normal fish bones, can¡¯t just swallow these,¡± Greg asked laughing at his own joke. He was sweating as he wrestled with the fish¡¯s rib cage and spine trying to pull them apart.

    ¡°Oi, where¡¯s my fish!?¡± Fritz¡¯s voice echoed off the pillars. ¡°I call dibs on the blade!¡±

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Greg grunted as he finally separated a rib with a loud snap. ¡°He can''t just call dibs can he?¡± Greg complained.

    ¡°It sorta is his fish, we¡¯ll talk about it when he gets here,¡± Albert said in a conciliatory tone.

    ¡°And when he¡¯s dressed,¡± Sid added looking a little embarrassed.

    ¡°Ah, sorry you had to see that,¡± Albert apologised. ¡°As I said, he¡¯s the worst when he¡¯s recovering.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad a sight,¡± Jane said a small smile on one side of her face. ¡°What, don¡¯t look at me like that Toby. I¡¯m just telling it how it is,¡± She chided Toby when his face darkened at her comment.

    Albert left them to their bickering, knowing he shouldn''t leave Fritz alone for too long.

    ---

    Fritz took another, more thorough, look at his situation, glancing around at the room filled with tree-sized pillars of that same green marble, it was as dense as a forest. The pillars reached and joined the ceiling and the floor and many had bars or ¡®branches¡¯ reaching out from their ¡®trunks¡¯. They were of a slightly more translucent form of the green crystal and the blue marbling looked almost like roots crawling up inside them.

    The floor was surprisingly warm, Fritz ran his hand over the shiny sleek surface and felt as the blue marbling radiated its own subtle heat into the green crystal. The air that stirred between the pillars felt like a pleasantly dry breeze, something Fritz had never felt before, having never left the confines of Rain City or the Rain Spire¡¯s demesne.

    His fish was missing, he was naked and under five blankets of oil clothes, the whole crew¡¯s. He felt a warmness in his chest at that. He hadn''t feared that Bert would leave him behind but the others, well, it felt good to know they still stayed for him. Fritz also found his calf wound had been tended to while he was ¡®dead¡¯.

    A greasy, light-yellow paste, that smelled of bile and mint, had been applied to the gash liberally and the gaping cut had been sewn together with some of that coarse twine. He poked the wound gingerly, there was a decided numbness to the wound where the grease-paste substance was slathered. Some kind of herbal remedy? But where did they get it? Fritz speculated.

    Wait, his fish was missing, He thought again, catching the thought this time. Damn it! Better call dibs on the blade before someone nicks it, especially Toby, and double especially Greg!

    ¡°Oi, where¡¯s my fish!?¡± Fritz yelled, he hoped in the right direction of the fish thieves. ¡°I call dibs on the blade!¡±

    Fritz smiled malevolently to himself when he heard Greg grunt something he couldn''t quite hear.

    He gave a mental shrug one way or another he would get his prize. Not important right now, what is important right now are clothes, no more nakedness for now I think, no matter how much it seemed to shock Sid. Serves him right for looming over me like that though, hope he¡¯s not also after my fish blade, Fritz mused uncharitably.

    Fritz spotted his clothes, seemingly dry from that welcome hot breeze, hanging from one of the pillar¡¯s weird green branches.

    He decided to walk to them on his injured right leg, to test out how bad he¡¯d be slowed down, and found it surprisingly less painful than he¡¯d imagined it would be. However, there was a sharp twinge deep in the wound when he put weight on that leg.

    Nothing Fritz couldn''t handle, he¡¯d suffered much worse than this before. He hobbled, staggered then once he gained his balance Fritz strode toward the pillar that held his clothes for him.

    He took down his cream-coloured linen shirt and threw it on. He looked at his grey almost black woollen pants, the rent in his pants had been mended by that same deft hand that closed his wound. He smiled at that kindness and attempted to pull them on along with his thankfully unsoiled silken undergarments.

    ¡°Never would have heard the end of that,¡± He said out loud to himself, as he slipped on the comparatively luxuriously smooth and cool lavender fabric, embroidered with a crest depicting a white ship on its left side.

    ¡°Never would have heard the end of what?¡± Bert inquired as he poked out his golden-haired head from behind the pillar.

    Fritz startled, put too much weight on his hurt leg and winced from a deep pulse of pain.

    ¡°Ouch, did you have to sneak up on me, I¡¯m injured you know, and you haven¡¯t even prepared any Sickman¡¯s Soup for me,¡± Fritz complained as he hitched up his trousers and buttoned them tightly.

    ¡°Sorry, all out out of the secret ingredient,¡± Bert apologised insincerely.

    ¡°I thought the secret ingredient was love, are you saying you¡¯re all out of love for me?¡± Fritz asked in mock hurt.

    ¡°You know the secret ingredient is drowned rat, no rats in here and no water to drown ¡®em. No living things here at all, well save for us,¡± Bert informed Fritz seriously but with a smile on his rugged features.

    ¡°The others? How many made it?¡± Fritz asked dropping his voice and his mocking tones.

    Bert looked grim at the question and answered darkly ¡°Of our crew? We all made it in. Of all of us? I counted twenty-one, including you and me.¡±

    ¡°Nine didn¡¯t make it?¡± Fritz asked a little shaken. He hadn¡¯t known the others well but still, he had known them at least in passing.

    Bert nodded morosely ¡°Yeah some of Steve''s crew, and a few of the girls.¡±

    ¡°Seems a waste,¡± Fritz said sombrely. ¡°All of them just drowned or fish food.¡±

    Bert nodded again then stretched his shoulders in a shrug, ¡°Steve¡¯s Group went in as nine, grabbed some of the people who didn¡¯t have a crew to replace those who didn¡¯t make it. Veronica, you know the redhead who works at Tallies Trawler? Pretty, brown eyes. Well, she and her friend Lynn gathered the other girls and set off together. Six of them. No stragglers, save us. Now you¡¯re caught up let''s go join the group, you¡¯ve got a Door to choose,¡± Bert said, moving the conversation on to something more actionable with a serious look on his face.

    Bert picked up the oilcloth blankets Fritz had left scattered then handed Fritz¡¯s one to him. Fritz could tell it was his on account of the gaping hole in its centre and some gashes in its fibres from those sharp fins.

    Bert motioned to Fritz then led the way towards the catch and the crew. Fritz followed him with a slight limp inspecting the damage done to his oil cloth and thinking on ways to salvage any use from its tattered remains.

    They made their way to the crew, weaving their way through the copious pillars in a companionable silence, each occupied by their own thoughts.

    When they came upon his crew Fritz could see that they were expertly stripping the fish of anything of value. Anyone who grew up hungry in Rain City knew how to clean a fish, and they had grown up very hungry.

    Jane was stacking fillets of the oddly glittery fish flesh into small piles. Toby was busy cutting sections of scaled skin into different sizes, while Greg and Sid were busy tearing apart the creature''s sleek skeleton. Bert walked to Toby¡¯s area and deposited the oil cloths beside him to which Toby grunted in thanks.

    ¡°My what a good job you¡¯ve all done processing my catch,¡± Fritz exclaimed when he was close to the Swordfish''s head blade. ¡°Wonderful. Oh and Jane thanks for patching me and my pants up, your needlework is impeccable, it''s keeping me well stitched together. And here I was thinking Toby was just exaggerating how good your sew jobs were, at least that''s what I think he was saying,¡± Fritz smiled innocently as Toby¡¯s eyes turned on him in a glare, Greg guffawed and Jane rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Is that how you thank someone for sewing you up Fritz, next time I¡¯ll sew your lips together too so we don''t have to deal with your post-hurt absurdity,¡± Jane retorted shaking her head dismissively.

    ¡°You¡¯re right I¡¯m sorry,¡± Fritz said soberly ¡°Thanks Jane,¡± He flashed her one of his more dashing smiles and looked over the remains of the fish. ¡°What are the plans for the fish parts, except the blade that is, for which I have invoked the sacred right of dibs,¡± Fritz questioned.

    Bert spoke up for the crew ¡°Well for starters we¡¯re gonna turn all these scaly skins into some armour, sew them onto the oilcloth and other pieces of clothing. The scales are pretty tough, almost as tough as iron, so it¡¯s the next best thing to armour we can use. They were gonna make some bags or sacks to carry all this monster meat, we won''t be going hungry any time soon if we can cook up this fish meat. We should be able to find some wood on one of the floors.¡±

    ¡°Plus I¡¯ve heard monster meat is good for you. Makes you stronger, tougher and heal quicker,¡± Greg added enthusiastically to Bert¡¯s explanation.

    ¡°It¡¯s high in mana density, so it does do those things to a limit. I read it won''t take you above the ¡®leveless human limit¡¯, whatever that is. So you still need to climb Spires to get strong,¡± Sid commented unexpectedly.

    ¡°You can read!?¡± Fritz cried out incredulously. ¡°What do you read Sid, shop signs, statue plaques, sordid love letters that you steal from unsuspecting couples?¡±

    ¡°I do read. Books, scrolls, you name it I read it,¡± Sid said challenging Fritz with a glare that threatened his strangulation.

    ¡°Sid the scarlet scarfed scourge, studies scrolls?¡± Fritz alliterated astoundedly and annoyingly.

    ¡°Yes, I do. Got a problem with that, Fritz,¡± Sid asked angrily.

    ¡°Not really, just surprised is all, we must be the most literate team in the entire Sunken Ring, a full six out of six readers, one and all,¡± Fritz replied. ¡°Anyway, what are we doing with the fish skeleton then?¡±

    ¡°Breaking it to pieces,¡± Greg grunted ¡°Whats it looks like?¡± Fritz could see the man had fashioned what looked like scaled oven mitts to cover his hands while he pulled and twisted at the sleek silver nose blade some more. With the help of Sid with a set of similar scale mitts, a monumental heaving and a bit of clever levering the blade snapped free of the skull with a loud crack.

    ¡°Hah. It¡¯s free,¡± shouted Greg picking it up and tossing it at Fritz¡¯s feet. It skittered along the green marble coming to a stop at Fritz¡¯s boots.

    ¡°There you go lord fish-slayer, caller of dibs. Your trophy awaits,¡± said Bert patting Fritz on the shoulder.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Finally you all recognise my greatness and offer me well-deserved praise for the mighty deeds I perform,¡± Fritz aggrandised.

    ¡°Yes, yes, I would bow oh great Fritz fish-whisperer but I¡¯m kinda busy, you know, working on this armour,¡± Toby replied drily.

    Fritz crouched to pick it up, but when he realised the whole blade was edged he stopped, his hand mere inches away from another ugly cut. Now that he wasn¡¯t dodging the damn thing he took a better look at the blade.

    The blade was a hair shy of three feet long and was a shimmering sliver with a core of what looked like pearl in its glittering opalescence. Its edge was a more metallic affair entirely and looked to be clean and straight at first glance, but when inspected closely Fritz could see it had small serrations and tiny fang-like hooks running along it.

    Nasty, Fritz thought to himself, glad I didn¡¯t get cut by this, it looks like a wound from this would heal slowly, bleed badly and leave a horrific scar. If you survived, he grimaced.

    Fritz put down the oil cloth he had been carrying and begged a knife off Bert who happily lent it to him. Fritz cut a long strip of the cloth and began wrapping it around the base of the blade. It took a couple of strips all tightly wrapped, bound and knotted before he made any attempt to pick it up or swing it.

    By the time he was done wrapping he had gone through a third of his oil cloth, well at least it was the more mangled bits I used up, he rationalised.

    When he did have the courage to wield the weapon and was sure the edge wouldn''t just cut through the makeshift grip, he grasped the oil cloth hilt and lifted the bade in a duellist''s stance. One his father had drilled into him when he was young. He knew his stance was shoddy and unpractised, but he did his best to recollect the thrusts, slices and footwork he had been taught.

    He shook his head free of those memories quickly, they were beginning to bring the terrible melancholy and he didn¡¯t want the crew to see him weeping. Especially if they thought it was over a fish blade.

    He gave it a couple of tentative swings and thrusts to make sure the grip wouldn¡¯t fail and found it surprisingly heavy, definitely more so that of a leveless¡¯s steel rapier. Fritz swung and lunged putting the weapon and his own unpolished technique through its paces. The grip held firm for now and he found it was by no means sturdy, safe or elegant, but it was usable.

    He expected the blade to be bone hard and rigid to boot, its opalescent centre and fine jagged edge however were not nearly as brittle as they looked and bent with a surprising flexibility. Fritz sped up the cuts and thrusts he performed, they whistled through the dry air and he began to get a feel for its heft, speed and reach.

    He ended the performance with a quick three-cut-flourish with a wide grin on his face, this blade will do very nicely he mused.

    ¡°Truly this blade will become a trusted weapon, a symbol of my great skill at arms and my innate chivalric poise,¡± Fritz monologued, caught up in a moment of excitement for his new weapon.

    ¡°Yeah. The great Fish Blade,¡± Bert teased.

    ¡°Fish blade? That¡¯s a terrible name. It needs a distinguished, elegant name I shall dub it, Quicksilver,¡± Fritz pronounced regally.

    ¡°Whatever, can you stop playing around and help?¡± Toby asked annoyed, obviously jealous of Fritz¡¯s fish blade.

    ¡°Okay, what can I do?¡± Fritz asked offhandedly, laying his blade Quicksilver safely on the marbled ground.

    ¡°Come help sew some armour, there''s not much scale skin left but we should all get some bracers, and two of us get scale shirts,¡± Jane invited Fritz to come kneel by her him patting the floor beside her.

    ¡°Very well, what are we using to sew, more fish bone?¡± Fritz questioned absently.

    ¡°Nah, I smuggled some needles in when we were captured, which was lucky for you otherwise I don''t think we could¡¯ve sewed you up in time, though that grease paste stuff helped I suppose,¡± Jane explained offhandedly.

    ¡°Grease paste? Where did that come from?¡± Fritz asked intrigued. ¡°It seems to have done a good job as I¡¯m walking around and can barely feel any pain.¡±

    ¡°Those little tins in the gear bags, we wouldn¡¯t have thought of them but your one was in your pocket and leaking the stuff all over your thigh. The tin had been dented and mangled, much like your pants and you, I guess. So I thought why not, it smells like a healer''s gross remedy might, let''s smear it all over him.¡± Jane added, a sly grin on her face.

    ¡°Not all over me?¡± Fritz protested a little shocked.

    ¡°Who do you think got those pants off and sewed you up, I could have smeared it anywhere,¡± Jane said with a mischievous light in her eyes.

    ¡°Toby! Jane is trying to poach me, help!¡± Fritz cried out at Toby¡¯s position.

    ¡°Jane, leave Fritz alone, you know he¡¯s girl-shy and prone to mishear things,¡± Bert said interrupting any argument that might have broken out.

    ¡°Anyway, about these scale shirts,¡± Bert continued through Fritz¡¯s scowl. ¡°Two of them, let''s put them on Fritz and Greg as they¡¯ll be in the front line, everyone else gets the braces and some of these fish ones. The ribs look like they¡¯ll make serviceable spears, the spine and skull is riddled with tough tendons and seems like it¡¯ll make a decent flail, and the fins are great daggers or short swords.¡±

    ¡°I want the skull-spine,¡± demanded Greg with his large hands on his hips.

    ¡°Give me some fin daggers,¡± Toby exclaimed, always happy to get his hands on some more knives.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with some spears, I can just throw them or poke things from a distance,¡± Jane added obviously not keen on the idea of getting close to any monsters.

    ¡°I¡¯ll grab the top fin as a short sword, and one of those mitts as a sort of shield, Sid what do you want?¡± Bert asked. They all turned to Sid.

    ¡°Well I have a sling I was able to smuggle in my boot, I¡¯m sure I can find some stones for it on the first floor. So I¡¯ll take one of the fins, maybe a spear and the bracers if that''s okay?¡± Sid asked cautiously.

    ¡°Of course it''s okay, you¡¯re climbing with us, you¡¯re part of the team now. We got your back you get ours, that¡¯s the deal,¡± Fritz claimed in an overly friendly tone.

    ¡°Yeah, Sure,¡± Sid said suspiciously, as if he didn''t believe Fritz fully.

    They busied themselves amongst the fish''s remains and equipped themselves with their chosen parts and newly crafted makeshift armour. Well, that is until Fritz refused to don the scale shirt afforded to him.

    ¡°No, put it on Bert, I¡¯ve got Quicksilver and you¡¯ve got that piddly little blade, you¡¯ll need all the armour you can get if a monster gets to you,¡± Fritz argued.

    ¡°It might be a puzzle, trap or obstacle room for all we know, plus Fritz you¡¯re always the one getting hurt,¡± Bert reminded him.

    ¡°I¡¯d feel better with you wearing it, I call a crew vote on putting the scale shirt on Bert all who agree say ¡®Shirt the Bert¡¯,¡± Fritz commanded.

    There was then a torrent of voices saying ¡°Shirt the Bert¡±, even Sid joined in and called out the silly phrase. Fritz grinned as he handed the scale shirt to Bert and said in a level tone that brooked no argument, ¡°Shirt the Bert.¡±

    Bert sighed but knew he had already lost this particular battle, he took the armour and pulled it over his head and onto his body. The shirt hung off his wide shoulders glittered around his torso and back giving some modicum of protection.

    ¡°Looking good Bert,¡± Toby smirked.

    They were all equipped and ready to go, all of them wore bracers of oilcloth covered with silver scales and had bags fashioned of the remaining oilcloth or spare clothing to carry the abundant fish meat. Some had slung the bags over a shoulder, some had their bags tied around their belts, each carried theirs how they liked it.

    Greg was armoured and slung the spine-skull flail over his shoulders. It was an intimidating weapon, much to Greg''s joy. It had a heavy fish skull at one end and the spine had the ribs snapped away leaving jagged shards of bone jutting out of it and it still had a surprising amount of heft and elasticity.

    Jane was holding the longest of the fish ribs as a spear and had fashioned a sort of quiver for a bunch of smaller ribs to sit in.

    Toby had a similar quiver of fish ribs but also had his belt full of iron knives and many of the fin blades.

    Bert had the top fin which was about a foot and a half long and made a decent short sword. He was also armoured up, even more so than Greg, and his scale mitt that had been wrapped multiple times with both scale and oilcloth until it almost resembled a shield, almost.

    Sid had a fin dagger and his trusty sling tucked into his belt for easy access. He held a rib spear in each hand ¡®just in case one breaks.¡¯

    And Fritz, well Fritz had his deadly fish blade, no, Quicksilver, those selfsame scale bracers and tucked away in his bags were the Quicksilver Swordfish''s cloudy quartz eyes wrapped in some spare waxpaper.

    We really look like a crew Fritz marvelled silently, a crew of savages but a crew nonetheless.

    They stood in front of the three Doors. They were all great twelve-foot-tall archways of different materials and styles.

    The leftmost Door looked like a living tree grown in the shape of a doorway, the stairs were formed of roots, unworked stone and dirt and led up into cool darkness.

    The middle Door looked like a cave entrance of natural stone that led into a dark tunnel that had a subtle red glow.

    The last and rightmost Door was made of stone brick and had a shimmering portal of light rather than a tunnel or stairs.

    They checked their gear one more time at Bert¡¯s insistence then Bert turned to Fritz and asked, ¡°Which Door?¡±

    ¡°Wait we¡¯re letting Fritz pick the door? He¡¯ll get us killed for sure,¡± Greg grumbled.

    ¡°Yeah we¡¯re letting him pick, it¡¯s a Guide thing,¡± Bert said in a reassuring tone.

    ¡°A Guide thing?¡± Toby questioned darkly.

    ¡°Thought you said you didn¡¯t know anything about Guide Secrets,¡± Sid accused.

    ¡°I lied,¡± Fritz proclaimed with a false smile of confidence painted across his face.

    ¡°Some Abilities have prerequisites. Some need you to be proficient enough in your Abilities or have synergistic Abilities to evolve or unlock, some might just need you to do something or find something in a Spire. Such prerequisites can be hidden knowledge, especially Guide Abilities, as the Guides guild makes a fortune on leasing Guide contracts. Some are common knowledge like guard or soldier path prerequisites,¡± Fritz shrugged during his explanation.

    ¡°And some Spires give out certain traits more than others due to their alignment,¡± Sid added sagely. ¡°This one is probably aligned to water and metal, which is an offshoot or evolution of stone. Considering the monsters that were around it and its location underwater.¡±

    ¡°What about that light at the top,¡± Jane asked interested.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, weird light maybe? Not everything is known about the Spires, precious little really, and those with the knowledge don¡¯t go yelling about it,¡± Sid replied bitterly.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Fritz interrupted. ¡°I know the prerequisite to a certain Ability that I want, and I¡¯d ask you to all keep it secret if you could. Because if the Guides Guild found out I knew what little I know they¡¯d kill me then kill you all for good measure to make sure it doesn''t get out,¡± Fritz told them flippantly.

    Jane gulped, Toby glared darkly but Greg and Bert looked indifferent.

    Sid however had wide eyes and hissed at Fritz, ¡°What the Abyss Fritz, why did you tell me this, I don''t wanna get killed for your secret.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re part of the team now, and I trust my team,¡± Fritz smiled back at him with an infuriating smile and gave him a playful wink. ¡°This Door! Let''s get to it team!¡±

    He didn''t really know where each door went or what was behind it, no one could, but one of the prerequisites for a Guide Ability needed him to choose the Doors they would use, another he knew would need him to find a hidden Door. But they were rare and never in the Door rooms, you¡¯d have to find them on the floor themselves, I¡¯ll have to remember to keep an eye out for that.

    Fritz strode towards the Tree Door trying not to let his fear and anxiety show. Gripping his fish blade tightly, he walked up the loamy stairs. He hoped the others would follow quickly because he wasn¡¯t at all sure of his choice.

    Fritz prayed his decision didn¡¯t kill them on the very first Floor.

 Chapter 6

    Fritz walked up the gloomy stairway and immediately noticed a change in climate, the dry heat of the previous room had vanished, replaced by the cool humidity of night. The still air was suffused with the stale scent of decaying leaves and old soil.

    He was glad to leave the overwhelming smell of the butchered fish behind, unfortunately there was still a lingering trace of pungent fish seeping from the bag he carried over his shoulder. He could hear the footsteps of Bert squelching behind him. Relief filled his chest, they had followed him, it gave him the courage to keep striding up the mouldering staircase.

    The staircase¡¯s appearance changed the further he snuck up the passage, it became a winding tunnel of intertwined roots, stones and dirt. The tunnel eventually ended in a large circular basin walled by those same gnarled roots, it¡¯s loamy roof opened to show a strange new sky.

    Searching the sky, Fritz could see the clear deep dark blue above him, not a cloud nor star to be seen, it was a surprise to not be rained upon while being outside, Fritz mused.

    Hanging in the empty sky was a flawless silver moon, no scars or cracks. It radiated a soft, cool light that illuminated the basin as if by a steady low lantern. It was far larger than he¡¯d ever seen his own moon whenever it peeked out from its rain cloud veils.

    It seemed sad.

    The thought slipped through Fritz''s spirit, gone in a moment, fleeting, unlike this silver orb, eternal and alone.

    Bert, Greg then Toby, Jane and Sid walked into the basin cautiously, flanking Fritz and looking up in that same wonder Fritz was feeling.

    ¡°Wow, outside and dry. Not a drop of rain,¡± Bert said in wonder.

    ¡°Yeah, it''s so quiet,¡± Jane rejoined.

    ¡°The moon is beautiful. But so lonely,¡± Sid spoke in a soft voice, surprising himself and the rest of the crew.

    It was quiet, Fritz also noticed, that was until a mournful howl pierced the night. The single howl was then joined by a chorus of new cries, all sad, all hungry, all lost.

    The noise chilled Fritz¡¯s blood and sent a shiver down his spine. Sweat beaded on his forehead and chest dampening his shirt. He swept his eyes along the rim of the basin, searching for the source of the cries but saw nothing. After a couple of seconds the howling cut off and the night was covered in quiet. Not quiet, mute.

    ¡°What do you think that was?¡± Toby whispered as if afraid of beaching the silence.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, some kind of monster. Reminded me of a hound,¡± Bert answered at a more normal volume.

    ¡°What¡¯s a hound?¡± Jane asked warily.

    ¡°It''s a kind of monster almost like a dog, they have fur, fangs and sharp senses, especially smell. And they hate cats,¡± Bert explained tensely. ¡°They have four clawed legs and can outrun any leveless. The rich folk buy them from the Jastil merchants, who bring them from the Continent. Loyal pets, I¡¯ve heard.¡±

    Fritz looked to Sid who merely shrugged, who then looked back at him quizzically which he also returned with a shrug. Sid kicked at the loose earth and saw a stone that might fit his sling, he crouched and dug it out putting it into one of the bags tied to his belt. Sid continued collecting stones in this manner, filling his bag with the smooth round stones.

    ¡°We stick together, me and Greg up front Toby and Fritz in the middle, Sid, Jane take the back if you would,¡± Bert quietly organised them. They nodded and got into position, alert and ready to react.

    As the minutes passed they heard no more sounds of monsters, only the quiet, the rustling of leaves overhead and the creaking of aged branches.

    ¡°Let¡¯s climb out, no use staying down here, we have to find the stairs up,¡± Fritz suggested shuffling restlessly.

    Bert nodded and pointed to a point on the root wall that looked easiest to climb, ¡°Fritz, can you manage that climb? And be sneaky about it?¡±

    Fritz nodded, smiling he handed off his fish blade to Toby and approached the root wall.

    ¡°Why are we sending Fritz? Isn¡¯t Toby the sneaky one of your group?¡± Sid whispered.

    ¡°We¡¯re all pretty sneaky, gotta be in our line of work. And I am the best at sneaking up on people, but Fritz has a knack for casing joints and scouting the ins and outs of places. Getting a good idea of where we are and what we¡¯re up against is gonna be more useful than just staying quiet,¡± Toby reassured quietly. ¡°Plus if he gets caught he¡¯s great at playing bait.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll get his sword if he don¡¯t play good at being bait,¡± Greg grumbled darkly.

    Bert shushed them and they stopped speaking as Fritz started climbing the roots.

    Fritz found the roots to be an easy climb with easily gripped handholds and plenty of footholds, it helped that the roots were dry, not something Fritz was used to yet. The gnarled wall was only around twelve feet tall, a short climb compared to some of the towering estates or sprawling tenements he had scaled when scouting for something to steal. Not steal, liberate, he amended.

    Fritz poked his head over the lip, making sure to keep as much of his profile hidden, and looked around warily, searching for any sign of the ¡®hounds.¡¯ He saw no trace of the beasts, so he pulled himself over the edge of the roots and then flattened himself, lying face down in the dirt and fallen leaves. Fritz waited in the muted darkness and took in his surroundings.

    The dark was like that of day with an oncoming storm, navigable without torch or lantern light but not without care.

    Fritz could see by the soft silver glow that they were in some sort of forest, gnarled trees surrounded them on all sides casting soft shadows on the dead leaves littering the loamy soil. The trees were not particularly large or grand, but they were old, ancient, he could feel that in his bones.

    He looked for the tallest climbable tree he could see. Fritz saw one not too far away, a large tree whose trunk easily breached the low canopy and measured at least fifty feet tall from what he could estimate.

    It was only a couple of minutes away, so he stood up in a stealthy crouch and started quietly making his way towards it. The only hard part was trying to stay silent in this clear air. Fritz discovered that a dry twig could make a surprising amount of noise when you stepped on it, especially when unmuffled by the constant sound of rain he was used to.

    Crack. Right under his boot. Fritz winced.

    It seemed the sound surprised both Fritz and the ¡®hound¡¯ that had been but ten feet away, lying unnoticed amongst the roots and shadows. The creature raised its head in Fritz''s direction, its nostrils flared and a strange shadow pulsed in its slitted pale grey eyes.

    Fritz was sprinting in a moment, fleeing towards the basin. The uneven ground, treacherous roots and the deep ache of his calf wound threatened to stagger him; but his long practice of running along slippery roofs had made him sure-footed enough to stay running. He made it within four feet of the basin before shouting, ¡°Found a hound!¡±

    Fritz spun, expecting to see the creature hot on his trail, but he saw nothing but the soft shadows the trees cast. He stood tensely, his back to the basin¡¯s edge, ready to move and scanning the gloom. One of the deeper shadows quivered. A four-legged figure about half of Fritz''s height and shrouded in rippling dark lunged towards him.

    While this thing was fast it was no Quicksilver Swordfish and he was no longer underwater. He waited until the last moment then rolled to the right, out of the beast''s way as its iron grey fangs came snapping down within inches of his wounded leg. The hound''s momentum however carried it forward and it came to a scratching, sliding halt at the lip of the basin.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Fritz didn¡¯t give it time to get its balance and kicked it as hard as he could in its shoulder, tipping it and pushing it off the ledge and into the waiting weapons of his crew.

    It fell with whimper, crashing onto the hard roots with a sudden thump and the snapping of bone. It was pierced from all sides, a flurry of stabs from Toby and Bert, a spear each from Jane and Sid, then with a mighty crack the skull-flail Greg wielded made its impact. The beast lay still, its dark blood leaked on the roots, glistening wetly in the lonely moon''s silvery light.

    Worried, Fritz listened for more of the creatures, but heard nothing in the still night air save his own quick breath, which he slowed when he realised how loud it sounded in the unnatural quiet.

    ¡°Is it dead?¡± Fritz whispered from the top of the basin wall.

    ¡°It better be, smashed it enough,¡± Greg groused.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming down, I want to see what almost ripped me to pieces,¡± Fritz told his gang while climbing carefully down the root wall.

    ¡°It''s hairy and it''s ugly, what more do you need to know?¡± Greg grumbled.

    ¡°I¡¯d just like to know what I¡¯m getting into, I found a tall tree and I¡¯m gonna climb it and get a good view of where we are, then we can plan,¡± Fritz said as he walked closer to the beast''s corpse.

    The ¡®hound¡¯ had dark matted fur of mottled black and grey. It had a long head and a wide snout, and a powerful jaw full of fangs that were covered in a tar-like drool. It would have been as tall as Sid if it stood on two legs and was thin, wiry and emaciated. Fritz was sure he would be able to see its ribs straining against its grey skin if it weren¡¯t covered in that stinking fur.

    Its eyes, now no longer filled with life and ill intent, were that same pale grey, but were missing the shadowy pulse he observed before.

    ¡°Disgusting, are you saying the rich folk have these as pets?¡± Jane asked incredulously. ¡°I know the nobles are messed up but this is way uglier than I thought they could tolerate.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right there,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°I¡¯ve seen one before but it didn¡¯t look like this, it had sleeker fur, different eyes and much less fang tar.¡±

    ¡°Think it''s venomous?¡± Toby inquired, clearly interested in a new toxin. Fritz recalled he was always enamoured with tales of great assassins and their myriad, mysterious poisons.

    ¡°It could be, as always I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t get bitten,¡± Fritz replied. ¡°Well, I¡¯m done looking, I¡¯m going to climb that tree and get our bearings, I¡¯ll see you guys soon.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t invite another hound please,¡± Jane lightly teased. Fritz was already moving up the roots.

    The skulking journey to the tall tree was blessedly uneventful, Fritz managed to sneak around and avoid any appallingly loud twigs. He made his way to the base of the tree and planned a route up, noting the strongest and weakest branches along the way to the top. Then moving one hand after another he began to climb the scratchy, dry bark.

    Scaling this huge tree reminded him of when he was still young, back when he would climb the trees in his mother¡¯s garden, especially the enormous Sapphire Willow in its centre. He would play a sort of game where he would pretend each branch was another floor of the Spire he was ascending. Climbing floor after floor, just like his father.

    Eventually his kind but insistent mother, in her silken robes, her dark wavy hair in hasty disarray, would have him down in a heartbeat. Grabbing him with invisible currents of air and gliding him down into her warm, pale arms. She would scold him her dark brown eyes filled with worry, care and most of all love. Yes, he still remembered that love, but it brought him no warmth, just a cold dark empty that pulled and pulled.

    He always said he would listen to her, not climb the willow any more, but he never would listen, he was going to climb.

    Fritz climbed above the canopy and found a good vantage point with which to search for the Door.

    He thought the silvered view was strangely blurry, then realised his eyes were filled with tears and he was quietly sobbing between his heavy breaths. Stupid memories, stupid sadness, stop sneaking up on me, Fritz chided himself. He closed his eyes wiped away the tears and centred himself for a moment, putting all those bitter recollections away.

    Later, much later, when I can do something when I can get my vengeance, he promised.

    He looked over the low canopy and saw the forest stretching all the way to the horizon, there were also patches of darkness, a deeper shadow sporadically scattered below the branches. The spots of shadow slowly moved, each following its own instinctual path.

    Out in the distance to his left, Fritz spied a raised hill, bare of trees, upon which he saw a jutting slab of green-blue marble. There was nothing else of note that he could see, but now that he watched and waited he could see each spot of darkness was slowly circling the hill and that strange green stone.

    Guess that¡¯s it then, the Stairway must be there unless it''s a trick, but that¡¯s not likely on a first floor from what I remember, Fritz reasoned.

    Fritz climbed down the ancient tree, making sure to favour his non-hurt leg, he was surprised at how well it held up so far but didn¡¯t want to push his luck too far. He hoped pushing it like he had been wasn¡¯t going to slow down how quickly it healed.

    He made his way slowly through the forest, making sure to watch out for those spots of gloom he had seen from the tall tree. He made it back without a hound in tow this time, only to hear his crew bickering about something.

    ¡°Blight hounds,¡± Bert insisted softly.

    ¡°Tar fangs,¡± Toby argued back in a whisper.

    ¡°Who cares?¡± Greg added annoyed.

    ¡°I vote blight hounds,¡± called out Fritz brazenly interjecting himself into the argument.

    ¡°That''s four to two, sorry them¡¯s the rules,¡± Bert smiled happily getting his way.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Toby grunted.

    "What did you find Fritz?¡± Bert asked seriously when Fritz had joined them in the basin.

    ¡°Good news, I think I found the Stairway, Bad news, it¡¯s being patrolled by darkness,¡± Fritz informed the anxiously awaiting group.

    ¡°Patrolled by darkness? Fritz don''t be a fop, just tell us what you saw,¡¯ Toby said annoyed.

    ¡°I saw what I said. Spots of darkness slowly walking around the hill over there,¡± Fritz argued agitated pointing in the direction of the hill. ¡°It¡¯s probably these blight hounds, they have a kind of dark magic, one that makes them real hard to see, almost invisible in the shadows of all these trees.¡±

    ¡°So this hill is being circled by blight hounds? And blight hounds have magic as well as a poison. Got it,¡± Bert concluded.

    ¡°Venom,¡± Toby corrected sullenly.

    ¡°What?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Poison kills you when you eat it, Venom kills you when it eats you. So it¡¯s venomous,¡± Toby espoused like it was some great wisdom.

    ¡°It could also be poison. Did you eat any, Toby? Please tell me you did?¡± Fritz pleaded.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. I don¡¯t go around putting everything in my mouth, Fritz,¡± Toby snapped back.

    ¡°A shame, you would be more popular if you did,¡± Fritz ribbed. Toby glowered at the comment but fell silent at the laughs and giggles of the crew. Then he began to smile along with them. With the budding tension broken, they turned to Bert for a solid plan.

    Bert thought for a full minute before speaking. ¡°We need to cook some of the fish meat, Sid knows how to smoke fish to make it last, so we follow his lead for now. Once we got that done I think we head to the hill all sneaky like, ambush any blight hounds we come across and get out. Sound like a plan?¡±

    They nodded.

    Fritz approached Sid cautiously then asked him a question flippantly, ¡°You learnt how to preserve fish? How¡¯d you get the time between being a thug, a thief, a scholar and strangling me?¡±

    Sid looked annoyed and frowned at the question. ¡°Learnin¡¯ to make the best of what you got is vital, stealing one big fish a week is better than trying to steal a small fish every day. And as a big fish won''t last forever, you got to know how to keep it edible, you can always keep some for a bad day,¡± Sid said gruffly as if it all made sense to him.

    Fritz thought about what Sid said and actually agreed. Really, it all came down to: big risk big reward versus same risk small reward. What Sid proposed seemed fairly sensible.

    ¡°Don¡¯t the fishmongers notice the big fish getting stolen more than a few small fish going missing?¡± Fritz asked intrigued.

    ¡°They do, but they¡¯ll eventually notice either way and I¡¯d rather be fed than not,¡± Sid replied easily then shrugged.

    ¡°You know, Sid, I''m beginning to suspect you have hidden depths. First reading, now cooking I can''t wait to see what secret you¡¯ll bring out next,¡± Fritz complimented.

    Sid looked away furtively. ¡°Go cut some wood, we''ll need a bunch of it to smoke this meat,¡± he said in a hoarse tone that told Fritz they didn¡¯t want to speak anymore. He didn¡¯t push it.

    Fritz did as he was advised, gathering Bert, Greg and Toby and making their way up the root wall and over the basins lip. They started collecting fallen branches until they came across a fallen tree around Bert¡¯s five foot nine inches of height, nearby and decided to haul it into the hole. It was a tough and sweaty process but they managed it without incident, save a couple of splinters.

    Fritz was worried about the lack of flint for starting a fire but Sid turned out to be a dab hand at that too, and a fire was crackling merrily away in the centre of the basin. They fashioned the smoking racks and covers out of twine, oilcloth and fallen wood. They set them up at Sid¡¯s instruction and then started adding on the fish fillets under Sid¡¯s guidance.

    Fritz made sure to pay special attention, this was some useful knowledge indeed.

    ¡°How long will it take?¡± Bert asked after they had placed the last of the fish on the rack.

    ¡°About three hours. We don¡¯t have salt so the fish won''t last as long but this will give it more than a few days of being good to eat,¡± Sid explained.

    They waited and they chatted amongst themselves, Jane and Toby found some time to spend together alone. Greg, Bert and Sid were left watching the fish. Fritz tried to engage Sid some more in conversation but he wasn¡¯t having it, he¡¯d just stare into the fire and give single grunt answers or none at all.

    Fritz and Bert enjoyed some time talking and boasting until Toby and Jane came back from their seclusion to hear Fritz¡¯s great tale of The Tied Laces and Fish Hunt. He hoped to make the story comedic but it came out like some bold stunt of derring-do like you¡¯d hear in many Spire Stories, which he supposed it was. Even Sid and Greg looked impressed, and nothing Fritz did ever impressed Greg.

    After the story, Toby asked something that had seemed to be on his mind for a small while.

    ¡°Are we still inside the Spire? There¡¯s no way all this fits in the Spire, it couldn¡¯t have been more than thirty feet wide on the outside. This hole alone is about half of that,¡± Toby said baffled.

    ¡°Spires are magic, the space inside them doesn¡¯t make sense at all, most scholars have ¡®theories¡¯ but don¡¯t really know anything about the Spires anyway. Any knowledge that¡¯s truly valuable is kept secret by the guilds, the nobility and the Gods themselves,¡± Fritz answered bitterly, letting some of his resentment show.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that about the Gods¡± muttered Greg. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be struck down by Far¡¯Zael¡¯s lightning or something.¡±

    Fritz didn¡¯t see the point of arguing anything about the Gods, not while they were in danger and relying on each other, and especially not with the team idiot Greg. Best keep the group in good spirits than indulge in his pastime of blasphemy.

    Waiting until the fish was deemed ready by Sid, they tried some of the strips of smoked meat. The fish had an odd texture, it was grainy as well as flaky and tasted as any whitefish would except unmistakable aftertaste of iron. Still, they ate the incredibly unappetising smoked monster fish until their bellies were full then packed away the surplus.

    ¡°It''s like it was sprinkled with iron filings and then cooked on a blacksmith''s anvil,¡± Sid complained.

    ¡°Tasted fine to me,¡± Greg said belching loudly.

    ¡°I feel I''m getting stronger by the minute, I¡¯ll be as big as Greg in a week,¡± Fritz boasted flexing his almost non-existent bicep. He was only slightly exaggerating the meat really was more filling, and he could almost feel his muscles drinking in the mana and nutrients.

    ¡°By that time Greg will be twice as big,¡± Bert commented.

    Greg smiled at Bert pleased by the prediction. They wrapped up the last of the preparations and climbed out of the basin.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll see something as beautiful as this again?¡± Jane wondered out loud while staring up at the moon.

    ¡°If we climb Spires and climb together? Then yes, we¡¯ll see plenty,¡± Fritz said wistfully.

 Chapter 7

    Fritz led the way slowly through the ancient gnarled trees and the shadows they cast, fish blade in hand and his crew following stealthily behind. Occasionally he would hear a snuffling, or a single bark or whine but nothing disturbed them under the quiet, creaking branches. Still, they moved on through the gloom.

    They had been walking for some time before they were forced into fighting, they stumbled upon two blight hounds, growling and sniffing at the air, drawing ever closer to his crew. Fritz signalled the hound¡¯s location and they enacted their previously agreed-upon battle plan.

    Those of the crew that had armed themselves with the smaller fish rib spears threw them at the pair of blight hounds, the ribs glinted in the moonlight and came down in a hail of silver spikes. Three missed their mark and one struck the leftmost blight hound with its flat, bouncing off harmlessly. Only two spears hit their mark, both in the same blight hound on the right, pinning its front left paw to the ground and skewering its shoulder.

    It whined in pain as it was pierced. Bert advanced, running towards the uninjured blight hound, lifting his wrapped arm protectively over his torso and readying his fin short sword. Fritz ran at his side ready to strike the creature if it lunged at Bert.

    Greg made towards the spear-punctured beast, whirling his skull-flail in an arc over his head, the skull producing a strange groan as the air was caught up in its spin.

    The gloom around the blight hounds rippled and they disappeared into the shadows. It didn¡¯t help the punctured blight hound overmuch as it only stayed hidden for a moment as its magic failed. The spear that pierced its front paw kept its leg stuck in place.

    Greg¡¯s skull-flail soared down on the wounded blight hound, crashed down on its back and shattered its spine with a sickening crunch. Its back legs fell limp, and the creature tried to pull its bulk forward when Toby stepped to its wounded side and stabbed his fin dagger into the creature''s furred throat. He pulled the dagger loose and a surge of dark blood poured from the cut, polluting the soil.

    The creature stood, wobbling from side to side for a second or two, then it fell to the ground with a piteous whine that softened into a wheeze, then silence.

    Toby yelled out in pain as the other blight hound bit down on his leg from behind, its grey fangs puncturing his skin with ease. Seemingly it had leapt out of one of the countless shadows littering the forest floor leaving Toby no time to react. The beast twisted its head, pulling him from his feet, then started thrashing, its jaws tearing deeper into his flesh. Toby screamed.

    Jane leapt into action, charging the hound with her spear of metallic bone. She pierced the monster from the side, her spear going fully through the blight hound¡¯s rib cage and out the other side. Sid was slower with his spear but it wasn¡¯t needed. Jane had struck the creature''s heart, and it fell in moments, still keeping its vice-like grip on Toby¡¯s torn-up leg.

    Toby, mercifully, had stopped screaming, and instead lay unconscious and pale, paler than his usual pale Fritz amended.

    Tears were streaming down Jane¡¯s face as she rummaged through her bags and sacks looking for her tin of greasy balm. With shaking hands she brought it out and attempted to open it, her hands were trembling too hard to get a grip and eventually, Sid took the tin from her and opened it, handing it back quickly when Jane protested, ¡°I¡¯ll be the one who saves Toby.¡±

    Jane ran over to the wounded limp Toby and she struggled with the beast''s jaw but it held tight, so she yelled, ¡°Greg get over here and help me with this hound''s bite.¡±

    Greg hurried to his friend''s side, and pulled at the beast''s jaw, loosening it enough for Jane to pull Toby¡¯s leg free and clear.

    Fritz looked around for enemies, already dreading what he saw, or rather what he heard, the snap of a twig right in front of him. Not a creature in sight, but he knew these things were near invisible until they pounced, ¡°More hounds, watch out!¡± Fritz cried out in warning.

    Fritz watched the ground in front of him, scanning the shadows with his fish blade raised in preparation. A black-furred shape jumped out at him, suddenly visible with the gloom bubbling off of its matted hide. It lunged for his wounded right leg, as he suspected it would. It was the same way the first blight hound had attacked, a predator strikes at weakness after all.

    However, this time Fritz was ready for this ¡®surprise¡¯ attack and struck right where the beast was going to be with a full-bodied thrust of his fish blade.

    He had hoped he¡¯d hit it in the heart or right through one of its pale eyes. Instead, the blade plunged into the meat of its neck cleanly, meeting resistance only when the jagged edge scraped and sawed at its spine. A gurgling noise bubbled out of the blight hound''s jaws and it slammed face-first into the roots at Fritz¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Argh,¡± Bert yelled, as he wrestled with a hound that had its jaws around his sword arm, he struck down as hard as he could with his makeshift gauntlet-shield reigning blow after blow against its hard, hairy skull. Fritz ran to help Bert and was halfway there until he found himself tripping over a shadow, revealing a blight hound that was still waiting in ambush. He toppled head over heels and fell straight on his face, cursing all the while.

    Luckily for him, the creature was just as surprised as he was and had been kicked hard in the ribs, unintentionally, by Fritz. The blight hound distracted by the sudden ¡®attack¡¯ turned to face him and growled. Fritz rolled onto his back, putting his blade between himself and the beast, but he heard a soft whistle, and its pale eye popped, exploding with a wet squelch. The hound reeled and staggered away from Fritz¡¯s fallen form.

    Getting to his feet but before he could advance on the beast, another whistle and a crack met his ears. This time Fritz saw the source, a stone the size of an egg bouncing off the blight hound¡¯s head and into the dirt. The hound fell to the ground still as the stone that struck it, and Sid approached cautiously, sling in hand.

    Fritz immediately looked for Bert and the hound attacking him and found Bert straddling the hound''s now unmoving corpse, his shield arm slick with the beast''s dark blood. He searched for any more ripples in the shadows or movement of the dirt but saw nothing. He dropped his fish blade from its guard position, and stabbed it into the soil, giving his aching arm some time to rest.

    ¡°How¡¯s Toby,¡± Fritz asked still panting from exertion.

    Fritz¡¯s question seemed to pull everyone out from their after-battle daze, they turned and looked at Toby and Jane¡¯s position. Fritz could see that Jane¡¯s eyes were still red and streaked with tears, but she was no longer crying, she just looked weary.

    ¡°I put the grease on him in time to stop the bleeding but it looks pretty torn up, I¡¯m not sure he¡¯ll be able to walk too quickly,¡± Jane told them worriedly.

    ¡°Then Greg can carry him,¡± Fritz offered magnanimously.

    Greg snorted and replied, ¡°No can do, gotta carry the spine crusher.¡±

    ¡°My arm''s all torn up too,¡± Bert added while sitting down and applying his of tin of grease to his bite.

    Jane looked at Fritz pleadingly, worry still furrowed on her brow.

    Fritz sighed dramatically, ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll carry him. I¡¯ll lend him my shoulder. I¡¯m just worried I¡¯ll get terminal snark poisoning if I carry him for too long.¡±

    Jane smiled slightly and was presumably about to thank him when Bert spoke up again, ¡°Speaking of poisoning, my arm is starting to go all numb.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just the grease, it does have an odd numbing effect,¡± said Fritz reassuringly.

    ¡°Nah, it started before the grease and it¡¯s creeping up my forearm, it feels cold too, a bit like a winter night¡¯s rain, that bone-numbing chill, you know?¡± Bert explained calmly, too calmly Fritz knew, must be that brave face we all know and need right now.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Should we tie it off or something?¡± Fritz asked anxiously.

    ¡°Yes, use the twine, tie it as tight as possible, same with Toby¡¯s leg,¡± Sid sternly ordered.

    They did as he said, though it wasn¡¯t Sid¡¯s place to be giving orders to the crew Fritz knew that Sid knew his stuff and this was a sound enough plan. When they were done tying the wounds off and Toby had reawakened, Fritz asked. ¡°Do we want to skin these things, I know we left the last one because it was cut to pieces, but some of these hides might be worth taking?¡±

    He looked around at everyone''s faces as they pondered, they looked tired and beat up. Even those who hadn¡¯t taken any damage yet like himself, Sid, Greg and Jane looked fatigued.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to risk it. When we get to the Well Room the Power will heal us right?¡± Bert broke the quiet with his question.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯ll stop you from dying at least, that''s what I hear. It¡¯ll seal your wounds and stop bleeding but I¡¯m not sure about poison. I haven¡¯t even heard of a first floor that had poisonous monsters, what kind of deathtrap Spire is this?¡± Fritz said a tremble creeping into his normally steady voice.

    ¡°Venomous,¡± Toby wheezed weakly, then continued in a pained but mildly excited voice. ¡°How bout we don¡¯t skin them but take some of their fangs, their venom might help us out against other monsters?¡±

    Fritz shrugged, he didn¡¯t have a problem with that. So they set about prying the largest fangs out of the blight hound¡¯s heads. With the sound of wet sucking pops and cracks, they gathered them and doled them out equally amongst each other.

    The fangs they collected ranged between eight to ten inches, they weren¡¯t metal but were the colour of grey iron and were covered in the dark tarry substance that seemed to be their spit or drool. Fritz put his into a small bag on his belt, the others did similarly except for Toby who held one in his hand like a dagger.

    Fritz let Toby lean on his shoulder to take the weight of his injured leg and they took off as quietly as they could. Though tired, Fritz remained cautious, wary of every deep shadow and straining his ears to hear padding paws before they pounced.

    And so they went on through the night, trudging softly through the ancient gloom, beams of the moon''s light shining down like pillars of silver as the canopy drew denser as they travelled towards the hill and the stone that stood upon it.

    It felt like hours, and maybe it was, travelling through those gnarled woods, not another living thing to be seen or heard. Fritz wondered at that and wondered why he hadn¡¯t noticed it before. Where are the birds? Where are the rodents? Where was anything, that wasn¡¯t a blight hound in this still dark?

    Suddenly he was walking at an incline, upwards, and the trees started to thin.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting close, maybe five minutes up that way,¡± Fritz pointed, though he didn¡¯t have to as they could all see the jutting peak of a tall slab of green marble. A strange green mountain peak above a strange green cloud.

    Fritz urged them on and they began to walk again, this time with grim determination. Toby had started to shiver intermittently through the journey this far and now it was replaced with a slight constant tremble. Fritz worried at that. The man was getting weaker by the minute, would he make it the entire way?

    He was broken out of his worrying by a howl, a close-by howl, a horrifying, terrible howl of anguish. Fear crept up on him, as did that terrible empty, but he shook it off and saw the others frozen in fear, tears forming in their eyes and pain carved deep into their features. That single howl was joined by many more in a desolating, cacophonous dirge of howling from all sides.

    Fritz pulled Toby forward, and yelled out into the howling ¡°Run! Just move, don¡¯t listen to the hounds just move!¡±

    Toby was shocked into movement the pain in his leg shattering whatever hold the howl had on him. He grunted, looked down at his leg and, gulped. Then he seemed to steel himself and began to run as best he could, using Fritz''s shoulder as support along the way. Fritz joined his limping gait, pushing Toby along, trying to get as much speed out of the man as possible.

    Sid was the next to break out of the stupor and shook Jane out of her daze. Fritz and Toby crashed past Greg and Bert shoving them in the process. They looked around angrily, tears streaming down their faces. Odd I¡¯ve never seen Greg cry before, Fritz thought in passing before putting his best effort into getting Toby running.

    Once Bert and Greg realised everyone else was running they joined in, keeping speed and staying in a group. The rest became blurry and frantic to Fritz''s recollection. There was a mad dash up the slope, the woods thinning away to a bare dirt hill with a single green slab of stone upon it. Gone were the tripping roots and stone, the pristine moon in the sky illuminated the dark soil below them casting out all shadows. They began to sprint, abandoning any need for the care they used in the woods below.

    Those terrible howls followed them the whole way, but the hounds never showed themselves. Not until the end, when they had made it to the green marble slab, panting, sweating and terrified. Then they saw them, at least a hundred blight hounds and at their head a Beast thrice as large as the others roiling with dread shadows that rippled in waves along its sleek jet-black fur.

    The hounds stayed by the tree line far below snarling and howling their displeasure, hate and hunger. The great hound stared on intensely with pitch-black eyes in which no light could find purchase, it stood frozen, watching, as its pack padded and pawed at the dirt of the hill. They whined in hunger and frustration but did not cross the dirt threshold.

    Fritz stared into the eyes of the great hound, feeling pain, anguish as well as a dead certainty deep in his heart that they would meet again, and again and gain until it had hunted him down, stripped the flesh from his bones, consumed his still beating heart and then devoured his Sanctum.

    Could a monster do that? He hadn¡¯t known nor heard of it happening. But now he had. He knew. That thing could eat him and with it his Power.

    Fritz pulled his gaze away from the hound and onto the green slab, there on its side was an archway carved into the marble, and inside the arch a Stairway, the way out. He saw Greg and Sid enter before him and Bert waiting by the exit worriedly. Toby was now completely unconscious and slowing Fritz down to a crawl. Jane saw this and ran to Toby, grabbed and supported his other side helping carry some of his dead weight.

    Bert was there, walking beside them, shivering and looking dead on his feet, but still beckoning them on with encouragement, ¡°Come on almost there, I¡¯d help but my arm is useless. Come on we can make it, let''s get to the Well, let''s get some Power.¡±

    Bert was near talking to himself by the end of his words, dragging his wearied body ever onward and seeing he¡¯d just be in the way left up the stairway in a daze just before they reached it.

    In one last frantic effort, Fritz and Jane hauled and then dragged Toby the last couple of yards, through the arch and up the marble stairs. Pulling him up the stairs, panting and sweating the whole while. They were back in that dry heat of the Door Room, a minute, two minutes of climbing in absolute exhaustion, run ragged by the hounds and now these uncountable stairs.

    Finally, they walked onto a landing, a blessed floor without steps, Fritz almost fell, but instead held himself, straightened and dropped his fish blade, which skittered away on the warm stone. It was as Bert said, get to the water.

    He searched, looking for the water they were promised and saw it, a pool at the centre of the room. It was luminescent with its own strange blue-green light and it rippled eerily, but Fritz didn¡¯t care, he just needed to get there, to make Toby survive.

    ¡°One last push,¡± Fritz said to Jane, he couldn''t see her but he thought she nodded.

    They continued carrying Toby slowly and unsteadily until they reached the water''s edge, they lowered him as gently as they could then Jane scooped some of the glowing water into her cupped hands while Fritz opened Toby¡¯s mouth. He shuddered as he did, Toby was as cold as stone and no longer trembling. The luminescence poured into his mouth from Jane¡¯s trembling hands and pooled there glowing blue-green.

    The water didn¡¯t slide down his throat like Fritz thought it might, it instead lost its luminescence, its light soaking into Toby¡¯s pale almost grey skin. It became pure clean water, and Toby spat it out in a torrent, his chest heaving.

    His injured leg twisted the skin mending in mere moments, as did an assortment of small cuts and scrapes he had received. Toby sat up rapidly his dark eyes wide and sweat beading on his forehead.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive?¡± He questioned deliriously.

    ¡°Unfortunately so Toby, and I saved you, you owe me your life,¡± Fritz said gravely.

    Toby just groaned at the proclamation.

    ¡°You know what that means right?¡± Fritz asked in that same heavy tone.

    ¡°Jane won''t let you Fritz, it¡¯ll never happen,¡± Toby replied defiantly wiping the sweat from his brow.

    ¡°Jane will one day also owe me her life, then I will have my payment from you both,¡± Fritz said ominously.

    ¡°What in the Final Spire are you two talking about?¡± Jane hissed acidly. ¡°If there is payment then I will pay it, whatever you may ask, ask it of me, Fritz,¡± She said putting on a brave face but her were eyes wide in a small panic.

    ¡°No Jane, don¡¯t do it,¡± begged Toby, but it was too late Fritz smiled a wide mad grin as if he were a faerie that just struck a truly malevolent deal.

    ¡°I require just one thing of you Jane,¡± Fritz intoned, looking her up and down, letting the silence hang until Jane spoke up in anxiety.

    ¡°What do you need of me?¡± She squeaked in anticipation.

    ¡°Your child¡­ your firstborn¡­ shall be¡­ named¡­ after me,¡± Fritz pronounced, smiling his cruel smile, that is until Jane slapped the smile off of his face.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± Fritz exclaimed then he burst out laughing, Toby groaned in false duress and Jane glared at them both, fury in their scale-grey eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s what you were making such a big deal about, you let me think... God¡¯s what were you having me think? Damn you Fritz, damn you to the abyss,¡± she vented violently at him.

    She was rearing up to slap Fritz again when she became aware of where she was and who was watching. There sat Sid and Greg watching on in bemusement, while Bert was lying down with mischievous delight sparkling in his amber eyes, listening to the whole exchange but not seeing the need to stop Fritz''s antics.

    There were also others there, people Fritz hadn¡¯t noticed in his struggle through the room. Three women, presumably some of the other captives. Fritz knew them in passing, and they seemed to know him the same way. They were scowling at his mad sense of humour or maybe just at him. Fritz looked away, feeling a little abashed by all the attention.

    One of the women the one with the red hair, spoke up, ¡°Why are you teasing poor Jane like that, I hear from Sid that you lot had a very deadly first floor, and Toby just almost died. Surely you should be kind and gentle after such a horrific experience?¡± She twisted her pretty features into a frown, her brown eyes bored into his.

    Fritz held her gaze for a second, then as a flush crept up his face he looked away.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Fritz, he didn¡¯t mean anything by it, I¡¯m sure it was just his fishbrained way to try and lighten the mood and get everyone''s mind off the danger,¡± Bert said analytically.

    ¡°Well I¡¯m gonna drink up, can¡¯t wait to get a powerful Ability,¡± Fritz declared suddenly, changing the topic.

    Avoiding the Fritz thing to do this situation, for example dunking his head fully in the water, he instead cupped his hands and filled them with the Power giving blue-green liquid. He drank it down greedily. The water soothed his raw, parched throat.

    The cool light sank into his body, through his flesh and was drawn to that tiny spec of light right next to his heart. The light connected and it was sucked in, the hungry little light pulled it in adding the luminescence to its own light before changing, transmuting the foreign light to be just as his own. The spec of light had turned to a tiny twinkling star right in the centre of his chest, twinkling, radiating in time with the beating of his heart, shining with that rhythm of life.

    ¡°Was that it?¡± Greg asked confused.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. You have to go into your Sanctum and align your Attributes and Choose an Ability,¡± Fritz said, somewhat annoyed at having to tell Greg this again. ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m diving into my sanctum.¡±

 Chapter 8

    Fritz sat and closed his eyes, then he relaxed. He pulled his attention away from his aching body and the sensations of the room thinking at the tiny star in the centre of his chest. Focusing on its cool light, paradoxically freezing and warm, pulsing in time with his heart. He had that radiant energy in his mind fully.

    Shutting all else out, he could feel its subtle pull, he let that soft invisible tide pull him in gradually and then that tide turned into a current, then a torrent, racing ever quicker to the source of his power.

    He could feel the cold energy bathing him, filling his senses blinding him with its incandescence then all was still, the torrent and light gone. Fritz could hear the sound of rain on water, branches and leaves.

    He opened his eyes, a place he knew intimately yet not at all. It resembled his mother''s garden where he had played in his whole youth. But it wasn¡¯t that garden, the pale white lilies, the violet water hyacinths and those bright blue irises they were all gone, just like in reality.

    What lay around Fritz was a muddy yard around thirty yards from end to end encircled by a thorny hedge wall. The soil had been dug up in places leaving puddles and pools strewn about haphazardly, they and the pond that used to host lilies rippled as they were struck by the falling rain. Thankfully, two things remained of that garden he loved so much.

    In the centre of this ruined place, Fritz saw the Sapphire Willow that was the heart of the garden. It had changed from those blissful, carefree days of his youth. Gone was its enormous height of easily a hundred feet, and its gnarled bark was now smooth and flowering sapphire leaves had fled. In its diminished, youthful state it was barely twice Fritz¡¯s height.

    That¡¯s not the only thing that had changed about the willow though, its growth pattern was odd, its roots and branches seemed to have grown like metal wire wrapped in on itself in a great spiralling circular pattern. It was strange but it felt taut and strong, like a spring waiting to be released.

    Nestled between the roots and overlooking the lily-less pond there was the small wooden pavilion of white and blue, his mother¡¯s house colours, and where he used to sit and read under the willow''s great branches.

    He walked into the pavilion and out of the drizzling rain. There were the shattered chairs, the broken tables and the countless cut, torn and burnt books. Fritz clenched his fist in frustration, the devastation the Guild enforcers wrought to his home was brought back to the forefront of his mind.

    The wind roared into a gale and the rain pounded down in a torrent.

    Fritz pushed away at the past, struggling and shoving away the hurt and pain. This isn¡¯t real, it¡¯s just a dream. With effort he calmed himself, the wind died down and the rain slowed to a drizzle again.

    He walked out from the pavilion''s protective roof and towards the tree, instinctively he knew the tree was his, it was Him, his Power, and his Soul.

    He placed a hand on its strange twisting wood, and felt, probing for any sense of enlightenment, any hint on how to control his Power. He could feel it, the luminescence he had taken from the water, it was changed, now it resembled his own light. He tried to access it, and in his mind, three choices appeared, it was like reading and it was also like being spoken to at the same time, it was an idea pressed into his mind.

    ---------

    Activated Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow¡¯s grace, deliver foes, to night¡¯s embrace.

    Your strike becomes harder to track, deals extra damage and dulls the senses on impact.

    Alignment: Shadow.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three seconds, Affliction: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You killed a ¡®Blight Hound¡± with a single strike.

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    Second Wind

    Pushing through, tired and weak, rise again, reach the peak.

    Recovers two thirds of total stamina.

    Alignment: Life.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: Twelve hours.

    ---

    You pushed through your limits and overcame your exhaustion to save a friend.

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    Dig a small hole in dirt or stone.

    Alignment: Stone.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: None.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You pushed a ¡®Blight Hound¡¯ into a pit, ensuring its demise.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +21 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz reflected on his choices, even before coming into a Spire he had thought about what route to take and what path to tread. He always saw himself as a sort of scout or maybe even a non-sanctioned Guide if he was really honest. It was unlikely he¡¯d be able to unlock the Guide exclusive escape or defensive Abilities, so he¡¯d have to muddle his path a little with some Striker, Enhancer or Controller Abilities.

    Such was usually the case for commoners, not everyone could be the pure form of their Team Role without a lot of advice and knowledge to help shape their path. Such knowledge Fritz knew held a hefty price in both position and coin.

    This first Ability could be his foundation, however on reviewing the choices pressed upon his mind he found them lacking a certain quality or ubiquity he would expect from a foundation ability to build his entire path upon.

    Gloom strike was a straight-up Striker ability with a little utility in its more stealthy applications, he seriously considered it, he also liked the aesthetic value of such an Ability. Shadow¡¯s grace, bet that would look menacing.

    Fritz sighed. He wasn¡¯t really the menacing type and the Gloom Strike really didn¡¯t add much to his fighting repertoire. Sure more damage on impact would be great but so far his fish blade hadn¡¯t met any significant resistance and what was the point of dulling the senses if the enemy was likely to be severely wounded or dying anyway?

    Second Wind also didn¡¯t appeal to Fritz, he didn¡¯t want to be stuck in a slugfest or any sort of extended battle. With his general strategy and strengths he wanted to hit hard and fast then run if the enemy rallied or put up resistance. Honourable battles and stand-up duels were a fool''s game after all.

    No, second wind while useful he couldn''t justify his first Activated Ability on stamina recovery. If it were health then maybe he would take it, but even then probably not. He didn¡¯t want to be put in the role of a Defender.

    It would have to be this last choice then, the one influenced by both the Spire and his Sanctum, his Sanctum''s influence was obvious all those holes strewn about in the muddy yard still sat heavy in his mind. The Spire¡¯s influence was less apparent, maybe it¡¯s stone aligned?

    Stone Pit also gave him something the others didn¡¯t, utility; it was something that wasn¡¯t just an improvement on something he could already do. Gloom Strike was just a stronger attack and Second Wind, while useful, could be eventually replicated by resting or maybe potions if any were found as Spire Treasures.

    Stone Pit though, was something new and useful. Depending on how small a ¡®small hole¡¯ was he could think of a number of uses already. He could already tell it was going to be the trickiest to get use out of in a fight, but tricky was his middle name or would have been if he had one. It could add a new dimension to his fighting style as well as have other out of combat uses.

    Fritz sighed, pining over Gloom strike again. It seemed so fearsome and strong to boot. ¡°Maybe in another life or on another choice I could have chosen you,¡± he said mournfully.

    Instead, he chose Stone Pit. His Sanctum span, or was it the willow that was the heart of his sanctum spinning, or was it himself? A branch of the willow glowed and changed taking on an appearance that was glossy and grey like a smooth river stone.

    Now for the unassigned attributes, he thought as the vertigo ceased. ¡°What are the choices?¡± He prodded at the tree, ¡°And what do they do?¡±

    The Willow responded, in ideas and flashes of concepts.

    Strength: Increases raw physical power and lifting capacity.

    Agility: Increases coordination and quickness.

    Endurance: Increases total stamina and stamina recovery.

    Perception: Increases the distance and detail of the senses.

    Focus: Increases the rate of information absorption, retention and analysis.

    Memory: Increases storage, clarity and fidelity of recollections.

    Fritz went over the descriptions and deliberated for some time. Thinking of his future path, on the sort of climber he wanted to be.

    Did he want to increase his strength crush his foes before him with a weighty maul or throw boulders at people? Nah that was more Greg¡¯s style, plus if he went that way he probably should have selected Gloom Strike or Second Wind.

    The allure of agility taunted Fritz, he could become a skilled duellist or knife fighter, dodge attacks and riposte with cunning counters. He noted it as a high priority Attribute, the best way to avoid being hurt was to avoid being hit after all.

    Endurance was tricky, he definitely wanted some, as stamina would come in handy both in and out of a fight, not to mention his new Stone Pit Ability would be draining on his stamina too. Another high priority. He had also read it did interact with over-all health, something about an exhausted body being a dead body, but he could quite remember anything solid. Still it was an important Attribute, not something anyone should skimp on too much.

    Perception was going to be his main Attribute, it was the one that scouts and guides favoured and would help him spot trouble before he walked into it. It also might help find the rare Secret Rooms or Hidden Doors.

    Focus and memory were useful to a scout as well, being able to memorise a landscape or a monster¡¯s appearance and do it quickly could be invaluable. So many options so few Attributes.

    Fritz assigned his Attributes, feeling he would play to his strengths and follow his desire to be a scout. He decided to put nine of his points in perception, for the rest of the Attributes he put three points in, save strength, he could leave that to Greg.

    A burning sensation hit him as he assigned the attributes, the light was burning him, freezing him from the inside out, his willow grew another foot taller and its roots sunk deeper into the ravaged and wounded soil. The rain stopped for an instant, hanging still in the air, everything went quiet as the Power changed him. The pain stopped and the overwhelming sensation of that energy was gone.

    The rain continued its incessant drizzle as Fritz recovered his senses, slowly he came back to himself.

    Let''s try out this ¡®Spire Readout¡¯ then, Fritz thought. Radiant glyphic text appeared and hung suspended in front of him, it was in no language he knew but he could read and comprehend them easily. The glyphs sparkled and shined in his vision as he read the strange words in the even stranger format.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 1

    Path: ---

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 3

    Endurance: 3

    Perception: 9

    Focus: 3

    Memory: 3

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Activated 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 0/3

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Path 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz looked at his ¡®Spire Sheet¡¯ feeling a little overwhelmed with all the categories and numbers. He knew of them of course but seeing it all lined up like that neatly showed how far he still had to go. Not that this first step wasn¡¯t valuable, he reminded himself, now he had magic and improved Attributes. Now all there was, was to go back to reality and test his new Power.

    He dismissed the ¡®Spire Sheet¡¯ by thinking go away and it responded by fading away into the air, disappearing entirely. He looked around at his Sanctum one last time, sighed, then willed his return to the real world.

    After a brief feeling of vertigo and a heaviness, he was back in the green marble Well Room. The first change Fritz noticed was that his body felt like he was wearing a slightly too heavy coat that bore down onto his chest and then outwards onto his limbs. That heaviness sank in beneath his skin and suffused his body. He quickly got used to the weight, but it added an odd solid feeling to his movements, which came easier than ever.

    The cuts and scrapes he had taken had been soothed and his calf wound was sealed with a bright pink patch of thin skin. However, he could still feel the deep ache of the cut, it seemed it had only been patched not fully mended. Not a full restoration then, gotta be careful of that.

    The next thing he found was that his eyesight was better, he could pick out details more easily, and from further away, he could see cuts and bruises on the women that he hadn¡¯t noticed before as well as a certain raggedness to their clothing. Their short tan trousers and yellowed sleeveless shirts were torn and stained in places.

    They were sitting pretty far away from him but now he could pick out the ladies'' details, perks of perception he supposed.

    The redhead he knew was Veronica, her pretty face was plastered with a grim expression.

    The dark skinned woman with her charcoal hair in a long braid was Lynn her usually fierce burgundy eyes were dimmed with fatigue and her brow furrowed in consternation.

    The last Fritz didn¡¯t know from her face, she was also pretty like the other two. She had raven black hair with a green streak that framed her face, small bottle green eyes and slight features were cast in a determined mask.

    They were standing and having a low, intense conversation with Sid by the side of the pool. Sid seemed to be slightly scowling and trying to convince the women of something. Much to Fritz¡¯s surprise, he could just make out what they were saying.

    ¡°I understand your concern Sid, and you¡¯ve always done right by us. But continuing on to get a Path is suicide. Lynn almost had her arm taken off and Naomi almost drowned before we even got here. And Janet died. We¡¯re done, we are just going to rest up a while then leave,¡± Veronica said quietly.

    Just as it looked like Naomi was going to speak up she cut her off with a frustrated sigh. ¡°I know you want to go on Naomi, but we don¡¯t have weapons or armour or a plan to get through another floor like that.¡±

    ¡°What if you come with Fritz and Bert¡¯s crew?¡± Sid interjected.

    ¡°Even if they let us I¡¯m not convinced we¡¯d live through the next floor let alone the third. We¡¯re leaving and that¡¯s final, Sid. Now leave us be, we¡¯ll need our rest to swim out again. We need to survive,¡± Veronica told Sid brooking no more argument from him as he angrily wound and unwound his scarf around his hand and wrist.

    ¡°Fine, survive then,¡± Sid spat, turning away and walking back to the crew. Sid¡¯s eyes met Fritz¡¯s and he walked towards Fritz. What does he want with me? Am I about to be strangled again? Fritz wondered as the agitated man approached.

    Sid sat down opposite Fritz and glared at him, not all in anger he realised, as there was worry writ on his face too. After a moment of holding Fritz¡¯s inquisitive stare, Sid spoke, ¡°Can you help me convince Veronica, Naomi and Lynn to climb to the third floor?¡±

    ¡°They sounded pretty resolute. And I¡¯m not one to force someone to do something that don''t want to do,¡± Fritz replied honestly. ¡°Plus why should I drag them along with us, they have their first level, they¡¯ll survive.¡±

    ¡°Wait you heard us talking?¡± Sid glanced at him askance but continued speaking anyway. ¡°Assigned Attributes to Perception did you?¡± He added narrowing his gaze on Fritz, correctly guessing how he had overheard them. ¡°Well, that doesn¡¯t matter right now,¡± He continued before Fritz could interrupt. ¡°I owe those girls- no women a lot, they¡¯re like sisters to me. If you had a sister what would you do? Would you let them stop at the first level?¡±

    Fritz growled, then stopped himself as Sid looked startled by the noise, he didn¡¯t know, and he was right I would never let my sister stop here if I had the choice. The first level while much better than a leveless, is nothing like having a Path. His scuffle with Nic had shown him that much.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll talk to them, but I can¡¯t promise results. I''m not great at convincing people, even if it is the right thing for them to do,¡± Fritz said wearily, suppressing his frustration.

    Sid rolled their eyes at that ¡°You¡¯ll get your way and you know it, you¡¯re a fast talker, a charmer and a bloody handsome menace. You even- no never mind, just do what you can. Please,¡± Sid ended lamely with an embarrassed half-smile on his face.

    Fritz sat there a little shocked at his declaration, was that how Sid saw him? He¡¯d have to ask Bert for a second opinion. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, give me a moment to run it by the crew though,¡± Fritz agreed soberly.

    Fritz stood and motioned for the crew to gather, everyone else seemed to be out of their Sanctums and talking, it seemed many of them were weighing up their Ability options and discussing what to take. That made him feel a little guilty that he just went ahead and chose his Abilities and assignments without discussing it with anyone, especially with Bert.

    He walked over and Bert interrupted the conversation to motion Fritz over and to ask him ¡°Well Fritz what were you offered?¡±

    ¡°I uh, I¡¯ve already chosen,¡± Fritz answered sheepishly.

    ¡°Silver triad to me then,¡± Toby smiled, obviously he had won some kind of bet.

    ¡°I told you no. No one would take that bet,¡± Jane exclaimed, whilst sewing up a bit of Toby¡¯s damaged trouser leg.

    ¡°Did you take something flashy? The Fritz Strike? The Gloomy Stab?¡± Greg asked enthusiastically. ¡°Cause I already got that covered, I got something called ¡®Bonebreaking Bash¡¯ and I think you can tell what that does,¡± He added proudly with that stupid ugly grin on his face.

    ¡°Oh and let me guess you put all your Attributes into strength, like the dumb squid for brains you are?¡± Fritz replied annoyed at how close one of Greg¡¯s guesses for his Abilities were.

    ¡°Not all of them, only twelve, the other six went into endurance, and the last three into agility,¡± Greg said a little defensively, but then his smile resurfaced as Fritz grunted in approval.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Fritz continued, ¡°How about the rest of you? Who¡¯s chosen and who hasn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve chosen my ability already but I need help with the Attributes,¡± Jane piped up joyously.

    ¡°Oh, what did you pick? Must have been good if you¡¯re smiling in this deathtrap of a Spire,¡± Fritz asked intrigued.

    ¡°I got Sew Wounds, it''s said it was a minor heal that also allows me to stop bleeding wounds,¡± Jane responded beaming, her plain face looked pretty with that deeply pleased smile on her face.

    Fritz was delighted both for her and his crew, a healing ability, those were rare enough as it is, but for a first ability, what luck!

    ¡°Wow,¡± Fritz said with a low whistle from Sid, who had also joined in the impromptu team meeting. ¡°Usually you gotta climb a lot of levels and bring and use healing remedies before you get any healing.¡±

    ¡°Well, she did do the second one, cleaned up both Fritz then me. Plus she¡¯s always had a healer''s heart. In a jar. Right next to where she keeps all the stolen jewellery,¡± Toby joked hugging Jane to him with one arm, she didn''t resist she leaned into him with a small shoulder barge almost knocking him over.

    Toby joking, Jane happy, what was the world coming to? This spire may really be our path to change, Fritz thought both baffled and excited.

    ¡°Toby, what did you get?¡± Bert asked before Fritz could come out of his thoughts.

    ¡°I got a choice between; Shadow Meld, Lacerate, and Endure,¡± Toby answered smirking his almost black eyes twinkling. ¡°Shadow Meld would let me do what those blight hounds did with those shadows, but only so long as I¡¯m still. Lacerate it lets my attack cut deeper and cause more bleeding than normal. And last and probably least; Endure which increases stamina recovery and reduces the pain you feel,¡± Toby ended his list.

    ¡°Hmm I got Concussive Blow, Sturdy Block and Reckless Charge,¡± Bert told the group. ¡°They do about what you¡¯d expect. Concussive blow makes it easier to stun or daze an enemy on hit, Sturdy Block blocks blows sturdily, not much use without a shield I would think. And Reckless Charge gets you in contact with an enemy, while also increasing Strength but reducing Agility,¡± Bert shrugged with a thoughtful look that had replaced the usually wild look in his amber eyes as he finished explaining his choices.

    Fritz and the team turned to Sid who spoke up ¡°Uhhh. I also just chose without thinking, sorry guys,¡±

    ¡°No problem here,¡± Fritz said grinning ¡°Looks like at least half of us got too excited anyway, plus we don¡¯t have to run every decision by each other. It''s more like we should figure out our Team Roles before we all go choosing the most fearsome seeming striker Abilities. So relax, no harm has been done,¡± Fritz reassured the group, also discreetly letting himself off the hook. Huh maybe I am a fast talker, he mused.

    Sid nodded along with the rest and then replied ¡°I got an elemental infusion Ability, Wind strike, I couldn¡¯t pass it up, it starts off by just adding speed to my projectiles or attacks but eventually it¡¯ll evolve into something special. I also put most of my Attributes in Agility, with a couple in Perception, Focus and Endurance.¡±

    ¡°Evolve?¡± Greg asked, ignorance crashing across his features like the waves upon a particularly dull stone.

    ¡°Uhhh. We don¡¯t have to worry about it now, but when your capacity is full you¡¯re given the option of evolving abilities; if you meet certain prerequisites, or gaining more Attributes. But as I said, we¡¯re a long way from that,¡± Fritz announced hurriedly, hoping not to get sidetracked and also not really knowing much more than what he said anyway.

    ¡°Fritz, what did you take?¡± Bert pressed.

    ¡°I took an Ability called Stone Pit, it lets me dig holes instantly. Oh, and I put most of my points in Perception and scattered the rest evenly around my other stats, except Strength, I knew Greg would have us covered there,¡± Fritz said smirking at Greg.

    ¡°Digging holes?¡± Bert said flatly.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem very Fritz-y,¡± Jane rejoined in disappointment.

    ¡°Of course it''s Fritz-y, he was always good at digging his own grave and now he¡¯s even better at it,¡± Toby mocked letting out a disparaging chuckle. The rest of the group laughed uproariously at the jest. Fritz after pretending to sulk for a moment or two joined in the mirth, laughing along with the rest.

    They stood smiling at each other at each other before the reality of their situation set in again.

    ¡°So Fritz is a Scout, Jane is a Healer, Sid and Greg are Strikers,¡± Bert said counting the group on his fingers.

    ¡°Should I take Sturdy Block and be the defender then?¡± He asked.

    ¡°No, I think concussive blow is the right move, a stunned monster can''t attack after all, and we don''t have a shield to really benefit the block Ability,¡± Fritz explained laying out his reasoning.

    Sid, the next most knowledgeable it seemed, nodded when Bert looked to him.

    ¡°And Toby?¡± Jane inquired softly.

    ¡°Lacerate, I think, a little more damage can never hurt. Shadow meld might be useful if you were climbing alone, but in a group, if one person is spotted the whole group is noticed. And as for endure, well it seems like a Defender Ability and I doubt Toby wants to go down that Path,¡± Fritz said with a thoughtful look on his brow.

    ¡°Phew,¡± Tony exclaimed wiping his dry forehead for dramatic effect. ¡°Glad you didn¡¯t make me pick endure just to get a Defender.¡±

    ¡°Still only the first floor, you might still get lucky and get a defender ability yet. Especially if another monster wants to eat your leg,¡± Fritz commented flippantly, much to the chagrin of the now scowling Toby.

    ¡°And as for Attributes, Toby you should get some Agility and then spread the rest around. Bert, you should probably get endurance then whatever else you want. Jane, Endurance is going to be important as you don¡¯t have a Magic Attribute yet and your Ability will cost stamina to use,¡± Fritz summarised.

    The crew nodded along and then when Fritz had finished they descended into their Sanctums, leaving Sid and Fritz standing silently in the now quiet green marble room.

    They looked to each other awkwardly.

 Chapter 9

    Sid nudged Fritz, glancing in the direction of the trio of women who were surreptitiously listening on. Well, now is as good a time as ever.

    ¡°Might as well talk to them now,¡± Fritz conceded. He turned, then strolled up to the young ladies with as much confidence as he could project.

    Fritz met the interested gazes of Veronica, Lynn and Naomi then asked, ¡°Who is the leader of your group?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have a leader, we vote,¡± Veronica espoused coolly bruising a stay strand of curly red hair back into her messy bun. Naomi rolled her dark green eyes and Lynn glanced at Veronica and gave a small smirk at the statement.

    So Veronica is the leader then.

    ¡°Well, I want you to climb with us, come get a Path,¡± Fritz said getting straight to the point.

    ¡°And why should we do what you want?¡± Veronica replied. ¡°Do you need more meat shields or bait?¡±

    Fritz laughed at that, ¡°Actually, I¡¯m usually the bait, I don¡¯t want to put you in more danger its just that, well. Think on your options, in and out of the Spire.¡±

    Veronica frowned her dark brown eyes into a hard glare, ¡°What do you mean think on your options? What options do you think we have exactly?¡± She asked scathingly.

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡­ uh¡­¡± Fritz stumbled to come up with an appropriate response, then just thought to lay it out without the customary discretion. ¡°Your choices are limited if you leave with just your first level, you¡¯ll be pressured into being working girls or a gang boss¡¯s woman. No matter your actual talents.¡±

    ¡°Is there something wrong with that choice? Better than dying isn¡¯t it?¡± Veronica argued coldly, her face impassively furious.

    ¡°Nothing wrong with that if it is a choice if it is what you want. But only if both those things are true. Don¡¯t you have other aspirations? Even the non-traditional climber Paths. Paths like Dancer or Singer come with huge benefits, perhaps earn enough to leave the Sunken Ring. You could live instead of survive,¡± Fritz impassionedly entreated through her fierce demeanour.

    Naomi and Lynn looked to Veronica hopefully, but she remained stone faced, ¡°A very pretty future you¡¯re painting, but that''s just it, a painting. If we were to go with you, would you put yourself in harm''s way to save us? Would you make a promise to keep us as safe as you can?¡± She asked bitingly, fully expecting Fritz to refuse and slink away like a coward.

    Worry coiled in Fritz''s gut, a dread worry that this was a promise he couldn¡¯t make and that no one could keep. Then he saw her knowing stare, like she had his measure as a slimy, double-headed eel and anger boiled away the fear. She didn¡¯t know him, he could make this promise and he would keep it, even if it was just out of spite.

    ¡°I will keep you safe, I promise, even if it costs my life,¡± Fritz declared as self-assuredly as any knight errant.

    Veronica''s expression changed, first into some shock and then into a vibrantly smug smile of straight white teeth. Fritz reckoned he¡¯d been tricked somehow but couldn¡¯t quite guess how.

    Veronica spoke up before Fritz could follow that line of thinking, ¡°Ladies what do we think, now that have Sir Fritz¡¯s solemn oath to protect us. Shall we aim for the Dancer Path?¡±

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll aim for Singer, I was born with two left feet,¡± Naomi said, beaming at Fritz and brushing her green-streak of hair out of her eyes.

    Lynn nodded at Veronica giving her a sly wink which Veronica returned with one of her own. Veronica then turned to Fritz and motioned imperiously, ¡°Well lead on, we¡¯ll join your team, thank you for your gracious offer, I hope we don¡¯t prove to be a burden.¡±

    Still feeling like he¡¯d been tricked he brought them around to where the others were smiling and talking. Bert looked up and raised one golden eyebrow.

    ¡°Fritz, Ladies, to what do we owe this pleasure?¡± He asked graciously, a lopsided smile on his rugged features.

    ¡°You owe this pleasure to Fritz, as he has graciously offered to protect us while we on climb to earn a Path,¡± Veronica announced sweetly, brushing away that stray red strand again.

    ¡°Did he now? Well, I say more the merrier, what of the rest of you?¡± Bert called on the rest of the crew.

    ¡°No complaints here could use some company of the gentler, prettier kind,¡± Greg said in his abysmal attempt at flirting.

    Sid merely nodded his assent, as if this wasn¡¯t his idea. Toby looked at Jane in some worry, but she didn¡¯t seem to care much at the moment and nodded along too. Which was good considering how jealous she got of other women near Toby or any of the crew. She seemed to see them as her territory, much to the annoyance of Fritz.

    Toby nodded softly, trying to be as subtle as he could about it. Bert nodded again, counting down the last vote on his fingers, then nodded at Fritz whose anxiety about convincing the crew finally melted away.

    ¡°Welcome aboard ladies,¡± Fritz said as if greeting them for the first time. ¡°I know we all know each other a little in passing but would you like to introduce yourselves to clear up any confusion Greg might have?¡± He swept his arm as if welcoming the women onto a stage.

    The redhead spoke first. ¡°I¡¯m Veronica, I work at Tallies Trawler. It¡¯s a tavern in the Sunken Ring.¡±

    ¡°Some would say the best tavern in the Sunken Ring, I¡¯m Lynn and I also work or I guess worked at Tallies Trawler. Also, one thing to know about me is I go where Vee goes,¡± Lynn said in a surprisingly deep, smooth tone and a look on her face that said she would fight anyone who would try to separate her and ¡®Vee.¡¯

    ¡°And I¡¯m Naomi, I also worked there some nights but I mostly run a small stall with my older sister Ame,¡± Naomi admitted with a confident tenor and a bright smile on her face, her green eyes twinkling.

    ¡°Greg. I do odd jobs here and there,¡± Greg grunted, pulling his face into a facsimile of a grin.

    ¡°I¡¯m Jane and this is Toby, my boyfriend, we do odd jobs as well,¡± Jane said in a voice that seemed bright and cheery but held a certain threat.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure me and Fritz don¡¯t need much introduction, but we¡¯re burglars,¡± Bert announced calmly breaking the usual criminal''s discretion or ¡®thieves cant.¡¯ ¡°And we also do odd jobs,¡± he added with a wink of a mischievous amber eye.

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    Fritz felt like he could hear Veronica¡¯s heart skip a beat at that wink, actually, maybe he did with this new Perception. He¡¯d have to pay more attention next time.

    ¡°What kind of Abilities did you choose?¡± Fritz interrupted nipping at the budding romance.

    Veronica regained her composure quickly, smoothed her sleeveless shirt then replied, ¡°I took Second Wind, it restores Stamina. I didn¡¯t think I would be going for a Path so I chose something that would help in everyday life not climbing. Lynn took Stone Fists, which turns her arms up to the elbow as hard as stone. And Naomi took Flurry, she says it will speed up her attacks for a short while,¡± Veronica recited.

    ¡°Fair enough, Toby hand over some of the fin knives to Naomi and Veronica if you would,¡± Bert requested genially.

    Toby stared darkly at him for a second but then saw the sense of the request. Toby sighed then pulled out two of the sleek fin daggers and handed them to each of the women in turn. They took them in hand and gave them a couple of practice swings. Naomi''s swings sped up for a few moments, becoming a glittering blur, until they slowed and she was left breathing heavily.

    ¡°Was that Flurry?¡± Toby inquired his eyes looking a little envious. Naomi nodded still panting, then once she had control of her breathing she added ¡°It really takes it out of you, it was like running down a street all condensed into a couple of seconds.¡±

    Excitedly Fritz tried also out his Ability on the green marble below him, he could feel the Ability there in his star-like centre, he seized it and directed it at the ground a foot in front of his feet.

    He felt the light within him react and he could grasp hold of the marble with an invisible appendage. Then that same invisible grip slipped off the floor harmlessly, not affecting the marble at all leaving Fritz panting. He felt like he¡¯d just given one of the guards the slip during a short but intense chase.

    Why didn¡¯t that work? Something to do with the Door Room or the spire itself? Maybe the marble is just too magic? Ah well, at least it''s good to know one limit to this Ability and how drained it left me. It did feel like he¡¯d used a sizeable portion of his stamina if he could guess, but he thought he could use around two or maybe three more without falling on his arse. Still, it might be better to test that theory. Later, he decided.

    ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡± Fritz questioned after he caught his breath. ¡°Should we eat a little, get some rest, say an hour, then choose a door?¡±

    ¡°Urgh, those ration bars are terrible,¡± Lynn commented as she began to reach into her gear bag. ¡°Better than starving though, hey, what do you guys have there? Those don¡¯t look like ration bars,¡± She asked staring hopefully at the smoked fish Fritz''s crew were pulling out of their makeshift packs.

    ¡°Actually I¡¯ve been meaning to ask something along those lines too,¡± Veronica rejoined tilting her head in interest. ¡°What''s with all the fish bone stuff? Did you get it on your first floor?¡±

    ¡°Nah, Fritz tricked it into the Spire, rode it in like a horse the way he tells it. Then we took it apart and used everything we could,¡± Greg grumbled dismissing and downplaying Fritz¡¯s heroics.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly ride it like a horse, it was more like a bull I gripped by the horns and guided into the spire, it cut me pretty good too,¡± Fritz boasted while pulling up his trouser leg to show off the grizzly pink scar rather than the neatly sewn up gash it was on the first floor.

    Jane looked on, as did the others in subdued amazement. Not to be deterred from the question of better food Lynn spoke up again a small wheedling tone added to her usual hoarseness. ¡°Is the fish any better than the rations? Could you share some?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably better for you as it is monster meat, and as such, is riddled with mana. As for the taste, well see for yourself,¡± Fritz answered throwing some of his smoked fish to each of the women. Then he took a bite, tearing into the metallic morsel with his teeth, smiling to himself with false delight and humming a small, ¡°Mmm,¡± to complete the act.

    Seeing Fritz relish his mouthful, Lynn took a large bite of her portion and immediately covered her mouth to prevent herself from spitting it straight out. It looked as if she was struggling not to gag, then she swallowed, her burgundy eyes watering from the overwhelmingly terrible taste.

    Veronica and Naomi handled the fish considerably better as they ate it in small bites, they just had faces of mild disgust and grim acceptance, as they chewed through the iron flavours.

    Fritz grinned as he observed Veronica and the other women eat. He himself forced down the fish, with big gulps of water from his water skin.

    ¡°Awful,¡± Veronica said blandly drinking down some water.

    ¡°Truly,¡± Naomi agreed sombrely, also rinsing the taste out of her mouth with water.

    Lynn glared at Fritz coughing a little as she shouted, ¡°What the abyss Fritz, that was the worst thing I¡¯ve eaten! I¡¯ll get you back for your trick, mark my works.¡±

    ¡°What trick,¡± Fritz began pretending affront, smiling and biting into the terrible fish again ¡°Maybe I really like the taste of Quicksilver Swordfish, one could even say it is but an acquired taste for those with a refined palate.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll refine your pallet alright, just you wait Fritz,¡± threatened Lynn a smirk crawling up the right side of her face.

    Fritz looked around, searching for the support of his crew, they either rolled their eyes or smiled at him blandly. Sid shook his head when their eyes met a smile creeping onto his face too.

    ¡°Maybe once we get out of the Spire,¡± Fritz eventually responded, trying to give Lynn a Bert-like wink. Naomi giggled softly beside her and Lynn scowled.

    ¡°Okay enough of the flirting,¡± Jane chided. ¡°Get some rest eat up then meet up at the door in about half an hour.¡±

    The crews gathered in a circle ate and chatted, going through Room strategy and getting to know each other better. One interesting piece of information Fritz gathered was that Naomi knew all about the remedy grease, they sold it at the stall she ran with her sister. Her sister made the stuff and Naomi helped, apparently her sister was something of an aspiring alchemist and Naomi was her all too willing assistant.

    The way Naomi talked of her sister he could tell they were close and Fritz redoubled his intention to fulfil his promise to keep them safe.

    ¡°An alchemist, is that a path?¡± Jane inquired while she clasped hands with Toby who was looking rather sullen maybe at the attention and at all the sly smiles pointed their way.

    ¡°I think it can be, but Ame is a Medic, and she has an alchemist technique,¡± Naomi replied whispering the last bit. And so she should Fritz thought, If anyone knew they¡¯d abduct her and have her teaching them and their cronies for the rest of her life.

    ¡°Did she teach you? The thing?¡± Jane quietly questioned, leaning closer to Naomi.

    Naomi nodded slowly, ¡°A little, it showed up in my Spire Sheet as ¡®Thas¡¯lo¡¯telon Alchemy Novice.¡¯ So I think it worked,¡± Naomi smiled a small vulnerable smile.

    ¡°When we get out, could you teach me?¡± Jane asked enthusiastically keeping her voice low and close.

    ¡°I guess, please don¡¯t tell anyone else though, I really shouldn¡¯t have told you either,¡± Naomi begged, looking nervous about the proposition.

    ¡°Certainly,¡± Jane said her grey eyes glinting with hunger. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, and Fritz frowned a little at Jane when she glanced at him. She had the good sense to look away abashed at his silent admonishment.

    ¡°Ahem,¡± Bert cleared his throat exaggeratedly. ¡°This may be a bit of a stupid question but how does aligning Attributes effect us? Cause I don¡¯t feel all that different. I¡¯m definitely stronger and more coordinated, but I¡¯m not sure by how much.¡±

    It didn¡¯t seem to be a stupid question as the others stopped their conversations and listened in intently.

    ¡°Well from what I¡¯ve read,¡± Fritz began. ¡°It multiplies the base,¡± Sid and Fritz said in unison. Their eyes met for a moment then they glanced away awkwardly. Naomi giggled and Veronica smiled brightly at some private joke that completely eluded Fritz.

    He faked a cough, and continued his explanation, ¡°Don¡¯t know exactly by how much it increases your capabilities. You¡¯d have to find an expensive tutor to learn that I¡¯m afraid. But you can be sure you¡¯re going to get more use out of aligning to Attributes you¡¯re already good at.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so Greg aligning to Strength is going to be more effective than some one who¡¯s weak and spindly, like Fritz, aligning to strength?¡± Bert pointed out annoyingly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not spindly, I worked hard to become wiry,¡± Fritz boasted holding out arm that actually did look more wiry than spindly. Monster meat works fast, he reflected.

    ¡°There are potions, balms and serums that can help you to an extent though, increase your ¡®base¡¯ as it¡¯s described,¡± Naomi piped up eagerly, as she seemed to do whenever alchemical subjects were brought up. ¡°They¡¯re expensive but even Fritz could have a hope overcoming his spindel-itus. There are even substances that let you stay petite if that¡¯s what you want. Muscle density serums and the like rather than just the growth stuff which is far cheaper.¡±

    ¡°Spindel-itus,¡± Greg repeated, letting out a full belly laugh. ¡°Hahahaha that¡¯s good!¡±

    Fritz smiled along with the rest of them, letting them have their fun. Spire''s knew that they needed all the laughs they could get.

    ¡°But that¡¯s about all I know. We best get ready for the climb ahead,¡± Fritz said, subtly dismissing the group.

    People came and went, either needing to relieve themselves, refill their water skins from the Well or just getting some alone time to gather their thoughts. All too soon the rest was over and the group gathered at the three Doors, waiting on Fritz to make a choice.

    There they stood three archways, all differing in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. The leftmost Door was like a square cut into the wall. It was supported with a wooden frame and packed dirt walls of a red-ochre colouring. It had no stairs but instead a ramp leading upwards, it reminded Fritz of a mine shaft he had seen a picture of once in a book from his fathers library. Underground, hard to spread out and fight effectively. Possible cave-ins?

    The middle Door was a graceful arch made of finely carved silver the stairs were gleaming polished metal, and the walls were of a mirror sheen. The light that came from its upper floor was reflecting dazzlingly bright off the shining surfaces. Too bright, will probably be blinding. High metal content and I can''t use my power on metal.

    The last archway was a rectangular well-worn stone brick affair, both walls and floor of the same dreary grey brick. There was also a softly wafting breeze that smelled faintly of rot emanating from its depths. It smells of rot, probably undead, disease or something equally as horrible. Also looks to be underground.

    Fritz made a show of walking between them, looking listening and even sniffing them before halting in front of the one made of wood and dirt. ¡°This one,¡± He declared confidently, this time with more genuine surety. The Perception Attribute seemed to be paying off already, he doubted he would have been able to smell the tinge of rot previously.

    From the tales his father would tell of undead, even the weak or slow ones, were always nasty and likely to curse or disease you even if you cleared the floor. Attrition was the name of the game in their case. ¡°Avoiding undead, my boy, is always worth it,¡± He would remind Fritz. The memory came like a blow, and almost caused Fritz to stumble, but he pushed on and into the mine shaft, letting the words of his father lead him on.

    The dirt of the ramp crunched under Fritz¡¯s boots as he led his crew into danger, this time at least he felt he had picked a floor they could clear. Behind him, he could hear the others following and from ahead a soft high high-pitched giggle echoed out of the darkness. A chill went down his spine at the noise, and he felt he had a good idea of what made the sound.

    The creature that was said to abduct and eat naughty children and be the thieves of all misplaced things.

    The most hated and maligned,

    The least of noble Faerie kind.

    Cunning, sneaky and so vicious,

    Ugly, weakly and malicious.

    Goblins stalk those they mark,

    Kill you, eat you in the dark.

 Chapter 10

    Dread seeped into Fritz¡¯s limbs, his quick, quiet pace slowed to a stealthy trudge. The dark of the dirt tunnel was near absolute but there was a soft orange glow up ahead emanating from a side passage, painting the red-ish dirt a vibrant orange.

    The giggle he had heard before had stopped and all he could hear was the crunching of the loose gravel and dirt under his and his allies'' shoes. The air moved like syrup, it felt warm, heavy and sticky.

    Fritz turned around and whispered, ¡°I''m going to check out the light, need to do it quiet.¡±

    ¡°Take Toby as backup,¡± Bert whispered back stopping the group¡¯s advance.

    Fritz grunted his assent and Toby moved to his back, fin blade out. Fritz led the way softly to the orange glow. The light rippled slowly as if being stirred from deep below creating strange spiralling patterns on the rough dusty walls.

    They stepped slowly and carefully, trying to keep as hidden and unheard as possible. Toby was doing a better job of it, as Fritz sometimes still made a crunching or a sifting noise as his boots disturbed the ground. Benefits of Agility, Fritz supposed.

    After a minute, they arrived at the side passage¡¯s opening then in a well practised maneuver they flanked either side of the opening. Fritz looked inside, finding a circular dirt room with ramshackle wooden supports and dark roots growing through the ceiling.

    In the centre of the chamber, he saw a large dark tree root studded with fist-sized nodules of amber containing the swirling orange light. The large root hung amongst the smaller lighter roots holding onto clumps of dirt from the ten-foot-high roof of the chamber. The walls had broken picks, shovels and rusted-through buckets lying beside them.

    Fritz scanned the rest of the room intently, finding nothing amiss be began to sneak towards the root and the source of the light. He approached the root ears straining and eyes locked on the strange almost hypnotic light, when he heard then felt a creak then a crack beneath him.

    He lunged backwards as the ground beneath him gave way. A square opening appeared right below him, and he fell freely into it. In his panic his fish blade slipped from his grip and went tumbling into the darkness.

    He scabbed helplessly for purchase on the rough dirt but found nothing to seize. Then suddenly his fall was arrested, surprised and suspended he looked back. Toby¡¯s arm had been flung out grabbing under Fritz¡¯s arm holding him just under his shoulder as he was falling. With a lurch, Toby threw himself backwards pulling Fritz up and out of the pit kicking up clouds of dust as they landed heavily on their respective backs.

    ¡°My fish blade,¡± Fritz wheezed and spluttered, spitting the wandering dust out of his mouth.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Toby intoned drily as he breathed heavily and covered his eyes, shielding them from the floating dirt.

    ¡°It seems it was a trap,¡± Fritz espoused sagely, sitting up and getting a better look at the square hole that opened up before him.

    ¡°No, really?¡± Toby replied, standing up and patting himself down, attempting to dust the dirt off his dark, ragged clothes. ¡°How could you tell, was it the shiny lights or the deadly fall?¡±

    ¡°You know, I think those lights bewitched me, I never would have fallen for that normally,¡± Fritz declared, imitating Toby by also standing up and patting himself down.

    ¡°Maybe. Sometimes you just miss things,¡± Toby shrugged and looked around at the glowing lights ¡°But those lights are strangely inciting,¡± He added after staring at the orange glow before shaking his head to clear it.

    ¡°Probably best not to look at them too hard,¡± Fritz suggested, ¡°But we will need light down here and there¡¯s some light for the taking.¡±

    Toby gave an uncertain nod, ¡°You gonna jump onto the root then?¡±

    ¡°I thought you might volunteer,¡± Fritz responded hopefully, which pulled a dark chuckle from Toby. ¡°Well I need something to carve the stones off the root as well.¡±

    Toby handed him one of the pitted iron daggers from the gear packs they were so magnanimously gifted with by the oilcoat thugs. Fritz tucked the sheathed dagger into his belt securing it and his belt tightly.

    Fritz sighed, then backed up preparing to get a running jump. He sped forward, jumped with all his strength and flung himself at the hanging root. He hit it with a hard thud that pushed the breath from his lungs but was able to wrap his arms around the dark twisting wood.

    The wood, however, was cool and hard, lacking the usual malleability of roots. Fritz rapped on the root with his knuckles finding it to be completely unlike a tree, no hollow knocking like that of a shop¡¯s door but instead the sound of flesh on stone.

    Stone-wood? Why? How? Fritz complained as he fetched the dagger from his belt. He put the dagger¡¯s tip to a joint between the stone root and an amber crystal, he began to pry away the glowing crystal but before he could put any real force into it the amber simply slipped out of its socket and fell into the pit below.

    It fell for a few moments before it clacked onto a hard surface and skittered around at the bottom of the pit.

    ¡°Nice job, oh heroic burglar,¡± Toby intoned in that sarcastic way he had perfected over the years.

    Fritz rolled his eyes then risked a look downwards into the dark square hole. At a small spot at the bottom of the pit he could see the glowing stone lying close to his shimmering fish blade. Now with a bit of light he could also estimate the pits measure and make.

    The pit was at least twenty feet deep and at the bottom the floor was set with upthrust spear-like objects. Fritz was now very glad he didn¡¯t fall down there. He then realised he was breaking the rule of never looking down his hands began to sweat a little.

    Don¡¯t lose it Fritz just gather up the stones, push yourself off this thing and land on the ledge, simple, Fritz reassured himself. So he did as he planned, sheathing the dagger and just relying on his hands to pluck out the amber stones. It was surprisingly easy all said and done he was able to collect seven of those fist-sized crystals in total, not counting the one in the pit.

    With a mighty push he threw himself off the stone to the ledge, he overshot by a few feet and landed hard on his back, but he felt that it was worth it, very much worth it, considering the alternative.

    Fritz pushed his hand up and handed the bag containing the amber to Toby, then told him, ¡°Go get the rest of the crew, this room seems safe enough to stay in for now.¡± Toby nodded, doing as Fritz asked and slinking into the darkness of the tunnel hall, holding one of the glowing amber crystals upraised before him like a torch.

    He returned a minute later with the rest of the team, the scraping and crunching of their shoes alerted Fritz to their entry as he lay stone still for a moment.

    ¡°We know you¡¯re not dead Fritz stop pretending, you always do this,¡± Bert said in a bored tones as he sat next to Fritz¡¯s lying form.

    ¡°I was merely resting, nay, pining for my only faithful companion, Quicksilver,¡± Fritz griped easily from his prone position. ¡°She is lost in the pit below and I have no means to- wait hang on I might actually have means to retrieve her!¡± Fritz exclaimed excitedly sitting up in a flash and causing Bert to flinch a little.

    ¡°Shh,¡± Toby hissed scowling. ¡°There might still be things out there.¡±

    ¡°First a test! Behold the might of Stone Pit!¡± Fritz whispered-yelled to the crew.

    Fritz reached to his Power, he felt at the cool light of the star then Activated his Stone pit ability, aiming at a point within the trap hole. Again he could feel the invisible power seize the dirt of the wall but this time the magic didn¡¯t slip away, instead it pushed at the dirt creating a spherical indent in the side of the pit''s wall.

    The indent seemed to be around nine inches deep and a foot and a half across at Fritz¡¯s best guess. So it works sideways, good to know. The newly created hole seemed to be half a sphere with a strange smoothness to its surface, it was akin to the stone dome that loomed over the Spire¡¯s underground lake.

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    Fritz grinned manically at his first successful use of magic, his first spell. He was overjoyed and the moment was only slightly ruined by Greg asking ¡°Was that it, that small hole? I thought it¡¯d be bigger, bet it''s not the first time you¡¯ve heard that hey, Fritz.¡±

    Bloody Greg, Fritz thought then the fatigue hit him, but he pushed on creating another hole around five feet below his first and then again until his legs failed him. Three holes seems to be my limit. Not the first time I¡¯ve heard that, his stamina drained mind supplied deliriously in imitation of Greg¡¯s words. He sat on the ground recovering his energy while the others whispered, and checked out the abandoned mining tools.

    While he rested it seemed they found an unbroken pick and a relatively intact bucket with only a small hole near its lip. After they had collected anything of use Toby handed out the amber gems to each of them, Fritz declined to take one of the glowing crystals, he told them he intended to recover his fish blade and would grab the amber he had dropped near it.

    After Fritz regained his strength, he walked to the edge of the pit and gently lowered himself over the lip, his foot found the handhold he made and he stepped into testing its integrity. The smooth surface was tightly packed dirt and it held his weight easily.

    Slowly he climbed down the edge of the pit, sweating and huffing, then resting with his face pressed against the dirt wall when he felt it was necessary. He avoided the upturned spears, which he could now tell were the broken handles and staves of mining tools whittled to a wicked, jagged point.

    Eventually, through much exertion Fritz made it to the hard floor of the hole, his boots were set upon solid stone again. Walking quietly he wove between the crude spikes to the glimmering fish blade and retrieved it. Glad to finally have his trusty weapon back he also picked up the fist-size lump of glowing amber at his feet. He held it aloft, getting a more total view of the spiked pit.

    Fritz thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Again weaving through the forest of spears he made his way to the oddity he¡¯d noticed, there was a discrepancy in the dirt wall.

    ¡°Fritz what are you doing down there, climb back up and let''s move forward,¡± Bert called down to him, frustration and anxiety ringing out in his voice. He was pacing along the edge of the pit and looking down on Fritz who shushed him bringing his finger to his lips and making some hand signals that meant ¡®found something, hidden safe¡¯ in their own made-up sign language.

    Bert nodded at him and signalled ¡®investigate¡¯ but kept pacing worriedly.

    Fritz crept up on the oddity, raising the glowing amber to bathe the area in the orange light. His eyes traced an outline, a thin gap in the dirt wall, the indent reached from the floor to just below his shoulder. A hidden hatch? Fritz used his fish blade''s edge to attempt to pry the small dirt-covered door but it seemed to be barred from the other side.

    Fritz smiled and readied Stone Pit, he activated it cutting a hemisphere of dirt away from the wall¡¯s side. He reached into his newly made hole and pulled the small door open easily, the bar scraping uselessly against what was left of the section of dirt wall. He peered through the entrance seeing a small tunnel extending into the darkness.

    Fritz crouched, holding his fish blade in his right hand and amber light in his left before him then slunk into the small confines of the tunnel. He maintained his slow pace for a minute, hearing nothing, before coming across a fork in the path. Left or right? Right. He traversed the tunnel further when he heard a soft quick breathing coming from behind him.

    Fritz spun, bringing his fish blade up to cover his body, just in time, as the fish blade''s edge caught the spear thrust aimed at his previously turned back. He knocked the spear''s shaft askew, causing the spearhead to skitter off his thigh, leaving a shallow cut.

    Stooping in front of Fritz was a nasty little creature. It stood at around three and a half feet tall on two stick-thin legs, was clothed in a ragged loincloth and was holding a short makeshift spear in long-fingered hands. It had large drooping ears and jowls attached to a gaunt wrinkled face with dark-grey, leathery skin. Its eyes were huge obs of black with a speck of blue-green light burning in their depths. It giggled at the sight of his blood and wore a cruel grin showing off a mouth full of uneven, wicked needles.

    He lunged at the short creature with his fish blade, and it¡¯s eyes lit with fear. The goblin attempted to twist out of the way but Fritz¡¯s sword struck true, running it through the chest with a sucking gurgle.

    The goblin dropped its spear and writhed for a moment trying to seize the blade in its chest and push itself off the deadly sword. It only succeeded in rending its hands to ribbons on the sharp serrated edge. After several moments of desperate struggle the monster went limp, its blood dripping off the fish blade and pooling onto the dirt.

    Fritz sighed, letting out a breath he had been holding in subconsciously, then put his boot to the goblin''s corpse and pushed it free of his blade, letting it slide into the pool of its stinking dark green blood. Fritz took stock of his condition, checking the cut on his thigh. The cut was shallow and stung a little, but he considered it a small price to pay for not having his back pierced.

    Fritz suddenly wrinkled his nose as the terrible smell the goblin was exuding hit him and was determined to get away from its rotten cabbage stench as quickly as possible. He decided to keep following the path he had chosen before he was so rudely attacked. Sneaking through the darkness and periodically checking behind him for more goblins he made his way forward.

    He was beginning to sweat in the heat and humidity of the tunnel and the darkness ahead was starting to really reek of goblin stench, but he continued on afraid he¡¯d lose whatever chance at an advantage this stealth mission would bring.

    Minutes later of skulking, the tunnel ended in a low-roofed chamber with no windows or other entrances. There were three softly snoring small figures bundled in a nest of countless strips of cloth and rags.

    Near to the rancid goblin nest, Fritz could see a bronze banded wooden chest. A Spire Treasure Fritz thought excitedly. Normally he wouldn¡¯t risk trying to fight outnumbered like this, but there was treasure to be had, plus he had the jump on these horrible critters.

    He covered his nose as he entered the chamber and crept up on the huddled goblins as the smell threatened to make him gag.

    Easy does it. He thought as he lifted his bade over one of the sleeping goblin¡¯s neck, he pressed down in a quick cut and slashed the helpless monster¡¯s throat. That didn¡¯t stop it from thrashing and gurgling though. One of the other goblins awoke instantly, and when it lay fearful eyes upon Fritz it bounded away on all fours like a frog. The other was slower and looked to grab one of the spears strewn across the room.

    The fleeing goblin got to its feet at the end of its jump and began to sprint to and through the exit, Fritz only had a moment to react but called on his Stone Pit, aiming it where the goblin was about to step. With a rush of weariness the spell completed, and the goblin tripped when its new footing suddenly disappeared, it tumbled head over heels and slammed lightly on the floor.

    Fritz was on the fallen creature within a moment and was plunging his fish blade through its back. The blow neatly severed the goblin''s spine and it lay dying, a tide of its stinking blood soaking into the loose dirt.

    Fritz heard a shrill cry from behind and dodged forward and to the side, cursing himself for getting too caught up in this goblin''s escape and losing sight of the other one. He wasn¡¯t as lucky as last time. The spear entered his upper arm and poked full through his flesh and out the other side. As he hissed through clenched teeth the amber light fell from his hand.

    He spun again, feeling the spear be yanked out of the goblin''s grip and painfully staying lodged in Fritz¡¯s arm. He faced his diminutive opponent, fury rushing up his limbs, he lunged again, slashing with a wild swing instead of the controlled thrusts he had been performing before.

    The goblin leapt back avoiding the swing with an unnatural agility then rolled under Fritz''s next slash, picking up a new spear in the process.

    The goblin fended him back with primitive but effective thrusts of the spear, this goblin was bulkier than the other three he had slain and was wearing leather scraps sewn with rags as a sort of hodgepodge armour. A warrior or fighter goblin?

    Fritz cursed, a stand-up fight with a goblin and he was slowly losing. He¡¯d never hear the end of it. The creature dodged out of his wild strikes with ease and punctured him lightly in return, two more times he swung, two more times he was thwarted and two more cuts adorned his body.

    It kept giggling, whenever it thought to was about to inflict pain on Fritz, or when it frustrated him by dodging his attacks. He thought the foul mirthful gurgling would soon break him as his rage and fear built.

    The creature watched him with a malicious glee burning in its dark eyes and a vicious grin spreading across its ugly face. He could see the goblin was biding its time, waiting until Fritz was worn out or made a glaring mistake before it struck a deathblow.

    So Fritz seeing no other way out of his slow death by a thousand stabs decided to gamble. He swung a chopping blow forcing the goblin to dodge to the right and into his activation of Stone Pit.

    It worked. Barely. The creature strafed to the right and its small goblin feet met no surface to land on but instead of falling on it¡¯s face or side it tumbled into a semi-controlled roll. It was rising out of its roll when Fritz¡¯s fish blade chopped into its collarbone, catching hard. Fritz pulled back viciously on the blade and could feel it tear through the goblin¡¯s flesh effortlessly and saw through its bones with a dull grating.

    The goblin screamed in its high-pitched voice, fell to its knobbly knees and dropped its spear. It looked up at Fritz in terror and started babbling in its incomprehensible tongue. Fritz chopped again, this time with all the rage that had been building during the fight. The creature made to dodge but it was too injured to move quickly enough, the blade met its chest and carved it open.

    Stinking blood sprayed onto Fritz''s face and shirt causing him to spit, cough and curse. Exhausted from the gruelling, intense fight, Fritz sunk to the floor putting his back to the wall. He kicked the goblin corpse away from his seated position and tried to rest and regain his stamina.

    The smell was unbearable and the heat and exertion had him sweating heavily. His mind was sluggish, mired in fatigue, so he just sat there for some time.

    This is terrible.

 Chapter 11

    Fritz didn¡¯t know how long he was asleep, but no one had come looking for him yet so it couldn¡¯t have been more than fifteen minutes. He looked around, his eyes a bit blurry at first. When they cleared, he was fully able to see the room cast in the swirling orange light of the amber stone.

    His body ached from the fight before and the goblin''s spear was still lodged in his left arm, he tried pulling the shaft free but it was agony pulling the thing even an inch out. He decided to leave it there for someone else, probably Jane, to take care of later.

    He watched the room and noted what he had missed before, a multitude of makeshift spears, a set of finger-sized holes in the opposite wall that looked onto a dark tunnel much like the one the crew had entered through. Peepholes? Fritz guessed. So the goblins will be in the walls spying on us and following our movements. Better be careful about camp watches then.

    His gaze however was inevitably drawn to the torso-sized chest next to the goblin nest. Its bronze bands reflecting the orange glow of the amber stone making it appear like flowing gold. He crawled toward it on his hands and knees and placed a hand on its lid. It was cool and vibrated slightly at his touch, he had to will his hand away to stop himself from opening it there and then.

    He knew from his father that you should open a Treasure chest with your climbing team, that the treasures had a way of being Spire tailored for the group that opened it.

    There were also a myriad of cautionary tales of ¡®Treasure Hoarders¡¯ being punished by the Spire¡¯s Spite, as well as by their teams when they inevitably found out you opened a chest without them. Though that often didn''t stop some of the less scrupulous scouts or Guides from claiming them anyway, not that they¡¯d tell anyone that of course.

    He was sorely tempted to open it right here and now, less people meant better treasure after all. No one would know, right? Bert would know. Fritz sighed and attempted to lift the chest. To his surprise he succeeded it was much lighter than he expected. He hauled it up under his uninjured arm that was also holding the fish blade, it took a bit of juggling but the amber light was set firmly in his speared left arm and he crept back the way he came.

    The journey back was uneventful. Luckily there were no goblins lying in wait, ready to ambush him, as he worried might be the case. Fritz''s feet were dragging and his legs wobbled despite the light weight of the chest. Sweat soaked his brow and shirt, turning it almost clear as it stuck to him save for where it had been stained with goblin filth.

    He was beaten, bloody, bruised and had several cuts, they were stinging burning lines that he endured whole the tortuous slog. Finally, he made it back to the spike pit and called out to his crew melodramatically

    ¡°I Sir Fritz, have returned and have brought with me a Treasure Chest! But tragically I was mortally wounded on my quest! I am currently dying, valiantly!¡±

    ¡°Fritz, can you climb up?¡± Bert asked unsympathetically from the chamber above.

    ¡°Nay, I am dying!¡± Fritz yelled back, slumping then lying down in exhaustion at the base of the wall, just under the handholds he had created prior.

    Bert¡¯s head appeared over the edge, his face one of annoyance until he saw the extent of Fritz''s injuries. He went pale and his frown disappeared, replaced with an expression of deep worry.

    Fritz knew the wounds looked worse than they actually were, especially since they had a level now, but they still looked bad from Bert¡¯s vantage point. Serves him right for doubting my words again! A tiny petty voice said in his head. It was the last thing Fritz remembered thinking while in the spike pit. The world went heavy and blackness engulfed him.

    ---

    Sid watched as Bert hurried to get himself down into the pit using Fritz¡¯s handholds, trying to reach his friend¡¯s limp body. What was with Fritz and his seemingly simple scouting missions that always caused him to bring back either monsters or new wounds.

    He¡¯s just really good at getting into trouble, Toby was right about him digging his own grave, Sid thought. But why did Vee, Lynn and Naomi listen to him and not me when I tried to convince them to climb higher?

    Sid grimaced then glanced at Vee and the girls. Vee noticed and looked back quizzically, ¡°What¡¯s wrong Sid? Not like you to be so grumpy,¡± She asked gently.

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Sid attempted to grunt, she hadn''t quite got the roughness down quite right, but no one had commented on that, yet.

    She adjusted her chest bindings, they felt were getting tighter and more restrictive by the hour. Must be the monster meat, they haven¡¯t quite noticed yet but their starving thin frames were starting to fill out, packing on weight, muscle and, in Sid¡¯s case, curves.

    She sighed wondering how much longer she could keep up the ruse. Vee, Lynn and Naomi knew of course, but they weren¡¯t likely to slip up. They hadn¡¯t done so in the many years they knew each other. She didn¡¯t know where she stood in Fritz and Bert¡¯s crew though.

    Sid suspected that Jane had suspicions as she wouldn¡¯t leave her alone with Toby, but that might just be them being attached at the hip.

    She¡¯d originally kept the disguise out of safety having seen far too many young girls like herself be preyed upon, and fearing she¡¯d be next, she¡¯d heeded the advice of Tallie. The tavern owner had warned her ¡°If you don¡¯t want to work here under my roof, best you keep letting people think you¡¯re a young lad. And stay clear of others ''cause you never know who would sell you for a couple of copper corners.¡±

    Sid had followed the advice even going so far as to changing her name, and taking on her ¡®odd jobs¡¯ alone, it was lonely but sometimes she¡¯d visit Tallies Trawler to check up on the other girls, and make sure they were alright. They had to stick together, or they¡¯d be picked off.

    Eventually, it would come to a head and what did it really matter in a Spire if people found out Sid was a woman? Especially if she intended to climb to the very top, those skulg-scum predators in the Sunken Ring wouldn¡¯t try to take a Pather or incite her wrath. They were cowards through and through, preying on the weak and the vulnerable, and when she got back to the Sunken Ring she¡¯d put a stop to them.

    With a bit of Power the tides would change she could find their nests and burn them out like the vermin they were.

    ¡°Sid, are you okay? You look angry,¡± Vee¡¯s calming voice interrupted Sid¡¯s furious thoughts.

    ¡°Sorry, just got caught up in my own head again, just wondering why you listened to him-¡± Sid motioned her arm towards the limp Fritz being carried upon Bert¡¯s back as he climbed slowly and carefully back to the top of the chamber and the anxious looking Jane. "-over me? What¡¯s he got that I don''t have?¡± Even to her own ears, she knew she sounded petulant.

    ¡°I mean apart from the obvious?¡± Sid amended at Vee¡¯s raised eyebrow and wicked smirk.

    ¡°Well, you know his reputation as a burglar of some derring-do? Lord Whiteship¡¯s Vault? The Aviary Assault? The day of free sweet bread?¡± Vee listed off the ridiculous gossip and tall-tales as accomplishments and fact.

    ¡°That¡¯s all exaggeration and baseless rumour, even if people say he did those things, I very much doubt it. He¡¯s never got past me for one,¡± Sid argued, sure she had heard these tall tales but didn¡¯t believe even a little bit of them.

    Vee smiled that pretty smile of hers, ¡°Even if only a third of things people gossip about Fritz are true, he should be dead six times over. But he¡¯s not, he survives where he shouldn¡¯t, a Guide¡¯s son, exiled from an orphanage and thrown to the streets. He should''ve been dead within the week, floating down the gutters. Yet here he is, leading a crew of some of the most skilled thieves and burglars of this generation. Well that''s what Tallie says, she¡¯s been around a while and she¡¯s got her finger on the pulse of the underground,¡± Vee explained amiably.

    ¡°Fritz doesn¡¯t lead the crew Al does,¡± Sid countered scowling.

    ¡°Oh, please, Fritz and Albert are as thick as, well, thieves. They¡¯re basically brothers and Al listens to Fritz,¡± Vee said dismissively.

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Sid reiterated, this time more deep and gruff.

    Not to be deterred, Vee continued, ¡°So if he says he can help us get a Path, I believe it''s fine to gamble on him, one thing that is known for sure of him is that he keeps his promises,¡± Vee¡¯s face had taken on a hardness, a determination to get through this climb and to not doubt her choice. Lynn nodded along, agreeing with her, but she always sided with Vee anyway.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt that he¡¯s quite dashing,¡± Naomi added unexpectedly, a note of mirth in her clear voice.

    ¡°He¡¯s okay,¡± Sid agreed, watching Bert lay Fritz down in front of Jane who immediately cut away his shirt sleeve to get to the spear lodged in his left arm.

    ¡°Bert, I mean Al, hold down his arm, Greg get over here and pull this spear out, now!¡± Jane ordered her voice firm. Bert and Greg complied quickly, and with a sucking pop the spear was removed and cast aside, the hole bled freely into a dark red pool below Fritz¡¯s arm.

    ¡°What''s that smell? Spires, Fritz reeks, did he roll in squid guts down there or something?¡± Greg growled holding his nose.

    ¡°Shush, Greg, and help me wash this stuff off him, and clean his wounds out,¡± Jane explained hurriedly, pulling forth her water skin and a spare rag. They joined her efforts copying her actions.

    After they had cleaned most of the filth off of Fritz, Jane held her right hand to the hole in his upper arm, she seemed to focus and then her eyes pulsed a pale green.

    An ethereal silver-green thread slithered from one edge of the wound to the other then constricted like a snake squeezing its prey, closing the wound. The thread pulsed and disappeared, leaving a bright pink scar in place of the hole and stopping the bleeding completely.

    Jane moved to the next most traumatic wound a cut on his leg, and sealed it with her spell. She was panting heavily by this point and sat back in exhaustion. She rustled through her bag retrieving one of the healing grease tins.

    She twisted its lid and its seal broke. ¡°Bert help me apply this stuff to him. I can¡¯t cast anymore, my spell really takes it out of me,¡± Jane requested between heavy breaths, her brow and neck covered in sweat.

    ¡°Alright, on it,¡± Bert agreed, not even annoyed that he was being addressed as Bert rather than Al. He smeared some of the foul-smelling substance on his fingers and started applying it to any cut he could find on Fritz¡¯s unconscious body.

    ¡°Will he pull through?¡± Sid asked Jane, more worry in her voice than she liked. Do I care that much? I¡¯ve choked the bastard near to death myself on occasion. She didn¡¯t know how she felt about him. He was charming for sure, but how much of his persona was real and how much was just empty, calculated bravado? How long was it going to be until he betrayed her?

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine, he¡¯s way less cold than the last time he was hurt and his pulse is still going strong,¡± Jane reassured her, a relieved smile on her face.

    ¡°Uh, guys,¡± Toby said peering over the pit''s edge. ¡°There is a Treasure chest down there, Fritz wasn¡¯t just lying to us.¡± He pointed into the darkness at a spot of light.

    The crew scrambled to the pits opening, and looked into the gloom, spotting the chest and gasping, whistling or murmuring in awe.

    It was during these utterances of wonder and glee that Fritz awoke.

    ---

    Fritz had certainly died this time, that''s why there was so much crying around him, wait that wasn¡¯t crying that was laughing, that was excitement, that was mirth. How dare they be happy when he was dead! I will haunt them mightily for their transgression!

    Fritz rolled over onto his side, opened his eyes and let the soft orange glow scald his brain. ¡°Urgh,¡± He eloquently gurgled. ¡°Fear not, I have survived the stark clutches of death yet again, and lo, I have brought Treasure,¡± he continued in a magnanimous murmur, it seemed he had not quite regained all his strength if his raspy voice was anything to go by.

    He felt bad, weak, but much better than the last time he ¡®died¡¯, his arm ached and he had a whole lot of numbed places all over his body. Probably that disgusting healing grease, he sniffed then gagged, as the minty-bile stench snaked up his nose. It''s got nothing on the goblin stink though.

    Fritz pushed himself off his side and into a sitting position with a groan, he looked around expecting people to be watching his miraculous recovery, but no one had eyes to spare for him, not even Bert. They were instead all focused on the bronze banded chest Fritz had recovered, looks of expectant greed plastered across their faces.

    ¡°Well, go on, get it up here,¡± Fritz croaked, unstopping his water skin and drinking a long draft. He glugged down the soothing cool liquid, then giving a smile said, ¡°Go on strap it to Bert¡¯s back or something, it''s surprisingly light.¡±

    Shaken out of their transfixion, they got moving, they threw a sort of holster or sling, over Bert¡¯s back, the one they built then used to carry Fritz up here, he assumed. Bert and Toby scaled down the wall easily, Toby assured the chest was fastened securely to Bert¡¯s back, giving the harness a couple of slaps and pulls to make sure it held tight.

    He gave Bert the thumbs up then watched as Bert climbed and brought the precious cargo to the awaiting crowd. Toby followed soon after.

    The crew gathered surrounding the Treasure chest in anticipation as Bert placed it on the ground in front of Fritz.

    ¡°Do you want to do the honours, Fritz? Or are you still too mortally wounded?¡± Bert asked, sitting down and wiping the sweat from his brow.

    ¡°As I have vigorously recovered from my deadly predicament, yes of course I do,¡± Fritz scoffed, playing at being offended and Bert smiled back at him seemingly glad he was okay. Fritz stood and played up his limp as he trudged the last couple of steps to the chest, he glanced around and saw everyone watching in rapt anticipation.

    He stooped lowered his hand to the lid''s lips and pulled the chest open, the chest resisted for only a second then swung open easily with a burst of multifaceted, prismatic light. When the light died down Fritz searched the interior of the Treasure chest.

    The chest was laden with items, Fritz pulled out a stack of dark leather vests, around six if he guessed right. Fritz neatly laid them out. The next object was a belt of braided cord of a dark red interwoven with black, that was arrayed with hoops filled with blackened iron throwing knives.

    Fritz rolled his eyes as he heard Toby gasp, then threw the belt to the knife-crazed man.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s magic?¡± Veronica asked hopefully.

    ¡°Nah, it''s a bronze chest on the second floor, it''s giving us stuff that will make our survival more likely,¡± Bert explained, trampling right over the dearest dreams of the crew.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, it¡¯ll be well-made stuff though, maybe stuff we don¡¯t even know we¡¯ll need until later, Spires can be like that,¡± Fritz instructed offhandedly as he rooted through the chest''s contents ¡°Like this,¡± he added when he pulled out five small vials and hauled out three iron banded wooden shields.

    The gazes of the crew immediately focused on the glass objects in Fritz¡¯s hand completely glossing over the potentially life saving shields. As it they were right to do.

    Three of the small vials were filled with an effervescent light orange substance, which Naomi was quickly able to identify as stamina potions. While the other two, containg a thick light red liquid, did not need Naomi''s expertise to recognise. Everyone there had heard tales of the life-saving ¡®health potion.¡¯

    ¡°Uh, aren¡¯t health potions quite rare, and very expensive?¡± A flabbergasted Fritz asked a stunned Naomi.

    ¡°Yes, they are,¡± Naomi gulped as she broke out of her reverie. ¡°An experienced climbing team might bring one or two for each person. They run anywhere from one hundred to thousands of gold triads depending on the quality. Even then, there are wait lists and exclusivity contracts that would stop those without a powerful benefactor from acquiring even those with the least potency.¡±

    ¡°Urgh, what does that mean?¡± Greg grumbled brow furrowed.

    ¡°It means keep these a secret and don¡¯t use them unless we have to, if I get out of here with one of these to study I might be able to replicate it without having to join one of the alchemy guilds.¡±

    ¡°How potent are these particular potions?¡± Fritz asked holding out the two slightly glowing vials.

    Naomi took one of the health potions out of his palm with almost trembling fingers. She frowned as she inspected the liquid, she popped off the vials stopped put her pinky finger inside and withdrew a drop of the dark red potion. She sniffed the red bead then put the drop to her tongue, then hummed thoughtfully.

    ¡°Not completely sure, but low potency,¡± She eventually replied.

    Greg grunted, ¡°Why are you getting so worked up about them then?¡±

    ¡°Because Greg, you mal-witted product of the union of a scabrous leech and a rotting orange. Being alive is better than being dead and health potions are magic that can keep you from becoming dead. Get it now?¡± Fritz ranted in frustration.

    He then handed the other health potion and stamina potions off to Jane, he knew it was good practise to keep the healer healthy and hearty.

    ¡°Oh, yeah I knew that! Is that a helmet?¡± Greg asked pointing into the still open chest.

    ¡°I think so, want it?¡± Fritz asked as he picked up the dark object Greg was pointing to.

    The helmet was fully enclosed, with only a long slit for vision and a series of tiny holes in the visor for airflow. It was made of a matte black iron that felt strangely cool to the touch and was heavier than Fritz expected. Still, he hefted it to Greg, who grinned wide as he caught the helm. Then made to put the brutish black metal over his face.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± Greg¡¯s voice rumbled out in a darkly metallic tone. ¡°Whoa! My voice sounds so fearsome.¡±

    ¡°I think having your face covered suits you immensely, you should wear it everywhere, especially around me,¡± Fritz commented, but Greg just laughed at his insults. His laugh was considerably more menacing echoing out from that brutal black-iron visor.

    ¡°Oh, and what¡¯s that?¡± Sid said excitedly in a surprisingly high voice.

 Chapter 12

    The object of Sid¡¯s interest seemed to be a long length of wood with a subtle curve. On closer inspection was definitely an unstrung short bow. Right by the bow were some lengths of what must be bowstring and a leather quiver with nine arrows, all with green feathered fletching.

    ¡°Anyone know how to shoot a bow?¡± Fritz asked hopefully.

    The team shook their heads but Sid was still looking on in excitement and spoke up quickly, ¡°No, but I can learn, plus it works well with my wind strike Ability, it''s one of the most recommended Archer Path combinations. Being an Archer is what I¡¯ve dreamed of since I was little. I always loved the swift, sly ranger in stories.¡±

    Fritz looked at Sid, who was a bundle of eager nerves, shrugged and handed the bow, arrows and strings to the man.

    ¡°Good luck. Not that you need it if any of your sling skills transfer to that bow,¡± Fritz said cheerfully giving him a smile. Fritz was glad that he was able to ease over some of the tension he¡¯d been feeling from Sid with this hefty bribe.

    Sid took the weapon and its ammunition, stopping only for a second as he met Fritz¡¯s eyes and smiled. He looked away quickly and marvelled at his new bow then walked away from the group to string and test out its draw and stability.

    Fritz turned back to the chest with the sounds of a bowstring twanging coming from behind him. He lifted out a coil of dark grey rope, it was rough and cool to the touch and Fritz estimated it was about ten yards in length. He threw the coil over one shoulder then reached for the last two objects left in the chest.

    ¡°Could¡¯ve used this before I climbed into the pit, but hey, better late than never,¡± Fritz commented.

    The last but definitely not least of the Treasures were two books. One a large tome at least a foot across and the other only a bit bigger than an outstretched hand.

    As he removed the last two objects in the chest, the bronze-bound wood subtly shifted. At first, it looked hazy then it began to become translucent until it was finally as see-through as stained glass. Eventually, it faded away from view and out of existence. The process took all of thirty seconds but was intriguing to Fritz¡¯s senses.

    He stood still, watching the place where the chest had been until Bert cleared his throat loudly bringing Fritz back to himself and the two books he was holding.

    The first large book was a heavy tome with a hard red leather cover and parchment pages, a rarity in Rain City. On the front was a sigil of a clenched fist inside a circle and the words ¡® The Brotherhood Escantor¡¯s: Arte Pugilist, Prowess Martial, Treatise Tactical¡¯ embossed boldly in tarnished silver.

    The second book had no title on its soft worn leather cover and looked more like a journal or a travel log than a tome of battle. However, on the first page, the title was cleanly written in an efficient, neat script, ¡®The Observations and Impressions of an Officer Contending in an Asymmetrical Conflict: The Training Method and Guide to Effective Strategic Engagement and Skirmishing by Theodore Flynte¡¯.

    ¡°Technique books,¡± Fritz whispered in awe. ¡°On the second floor, in a bronze chest. Incredible.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s with the weird titles,¡± Bert asked a little baffled and just as awed. ¡°The ones I heard of sound more like: Advanced Mace Maneuvers or Sword Style: Mist.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t really know, but there are a lot of techniques out there and most of them are hidden, secrets for the nobles and guilds to keep. Maybe there are some really weird ones that we haven¡¯t heard of?¡± Fritz attempted to puzzle through the question while speaking. ¡°Anyway, let''s crack open these books and see what we¡¯re working with,¡± Fritz started leafing through the large red tome first.

    The Brotherhood Escantor¡¯s Arte Pugilist, Prowess Martial, Treatise Tactical was a manual on some sort of brawling unarmed fighting style. It seemed to focus on short efficient strikes and counters with punches and kicks. With accompanying compact dodging and weaving lessons for up-close fighting, and instructions on long leaps and rolls to get out of the way of long-ranged or large-scale Abilities.

    ¡°Looks like an unarmed or fist weapon fighting style, complete with defensive maneuvers,¡± Fritz announced while reading the strange tome. ¡°Anyone interested, Lynn might be good with your stone fists, oh and look here Bert, it mentions concussive strike!¡±

    ¡°Excellent! I¡¯ve always wanted to turn my whole body into a weapon, to walk into battle nigh on naked and punch monsters right in the face,¡± Bert exclaimed without a hint of sarcasm, his amber eyes alight with a wild fervour.

    ¡°Won''t it disappear as soon as it¡¯s studied?¡± Lynn questioned in trepidation, a look of concern and worry crossing her dark features.

    ¡°What? No! That¡¯s all lies spread by those who want to keep the Technique books to themselves,¡± Fritz said hotly, anger roiling up in his chest. ¡°Though they do tend to decay quickly when out of a Spire. They can be kept for years or even decades if you¡¯re careful, and they can be taught from memory. It¡¯s not as perfect as the book but it also might be a better version that''s been improved upon by a climber. That¡¯s not to mention self-made techniques,¡± He spoke on in an agitated diatribe.

    ¡°That¡¯s not important right now. You guys take the punch book and train it up with each other, and anyone else who wants to punch monsters for a living,¡± Fritz amended cutting off his lecture and throwing the book into Lynn¡¯s arms. She caught it easily and stood, she strode over to Bert who was just getting to his feet and patting himself free of the ever-present dust. Lynn looped her arm around his and led him away to practise the technique.

    They stopped a few yards away and read the book together, discussing the diagrams and explanations softly which mimicking the motions they saw on the pages. They practised the quick, compact punches outlined in the book on each other slowly, combining it with subtle weaving and footwork in the strange text.

    ¡°Okay and the other one?¡± Veronica asked impatiently, snapping Fritz out of the distraction that was Bert and Lynn¡¯s training. ¡°Better be useful for the sane among us.¡±

    Fritz opened the small journal-like book and leafed through its thin paper pages. It went a little over his head and seemed mostly concerned with small squad tactics and warfare, though it had some tips on fighting a much stronger and better-equipped foe. Perfect for us I guess, Fritz thought bitterly. It had sections for simple weapons and their uses as well as a focus on stealth, retreat and traps.

    ¡°It has a bunch of squad tactics, simple weapon drills, stealth and stall advice. All recorded by one Theodore Flynte, whom I¡¯ve never heard of,¡± Fritz summarised. ¡°It should be useful for us even if it''s not a particularly powerful technique it seems very versatile, which is what we need.¡±

    ¡°What of the other gear, who¡¯s that going to?¡± Veronica inquired picking up one of the leather vests and overlaying it over her chest checking its sizing. The vests had rough laces to tighten or loosen the armour as needed.

    ¡°Well there¡¯s six vests and as Bert and Greg already have fish scale shirts so the rest of us should get these, only one person left out. As for the bucklers. People who are likely to be on the front lines and aren¡¯t learning an unarmed technique so you, Toby and Naomi seem like the best choices,¡± Fritz outlined logically, chucking the vests and shields to those he named.

    ¡°There are also spears that can be gathered from the pit so we can do some of these militia drills,¡± Fritz instructed.

    ¡°Oh no no no, sweet Fritz,¡± Bert cried looking up from his book and striding until he was standing before Fritz. ¡°You¡¯re not getting out of wearing armour this time, you¡¯re always getting wounded and we wouldn¡¯t want you to valiantly die, again. Put on the vest and strap that shield to your arm,¡± Bert commanded sternly, scooping a leather vest from the ground and pushing it into Fritz¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Why don''t we put it to another vote?¡± Fritz smiled weakly. ¡°Just in case.¡±

    ¡°No votes, no arguments, just put the gear on and revel in its protection,¡± Bert said brooking no talk back from Fritz, which he knew would do nothing, Bert¡¯s mind was set.

    ¡°Fine, but only for you,¡± Fritz uncharacteristically grumbled setting down his fish blade and putting on his new equipment. ¡°But I also want the rope, I¡¯ll need it. For climbing, not for anything else,¡± Fritz added in an adequately suspicious manner.

    ¡°Wait, what are you going to use the rope for?¡± Naomi asked a little intrigued. He merely raised an eyebrow and made some tying motions that were suitably vague enough for his purposes.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Naomi¡¯s face flushed and she was about to ask further questions when Toby interrupted.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother asking, he¡¯s just trying to cover up his loss to Bert,¡± Toby explained, annoyed at Fritz¡¯s antics.

    Fritz scowled at Toby, then searched the room around him, as he held the precious technique book open comparing it¡¯s drill requirements to the room. ¡°Not enough room in this room to practice what¡¯s in this book, we¡¯ll have to move on to somewhere with more floor space.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Bert said also looking around at the room. ¡°When do you think will you feel well enough to scout ahead Fritz?¡±

    ¡°Give me ten minutes and I¡¯ll be as right as rain,¡± Fritz answered wearily. ¡°That sew wound spell worked wonders on that hole in my arm, good job Jane, still can we go easier on the grease next time?¡±

    ¡°Maybe you shouldn¡¯t be already planning a next time Fritz,¡± Jane said coolly.

    ¡°Right, yes, of course, I¡¯ll not come back dying again. I promise,¡± Fritz replied as sincerely as possible while strapping the small shield to his left arm.

    A chorus of ¡°liar¡± ¡°idiot¡± ¡°Uh huh¡± met this comment with all the concern it deserved, which was none.

    Fritz sat and rested, drank some water, and ate some monster fish while he leafed through the technique ¡®journal¡¯ noting some of the more interesting bits about twisting the blade and causing more injury with simple strikes.

    The book was quite a grim read, the dry, almost philosophic, text seemed mostly concerned with dragging down the powerful by ¡®bleeding them dry¡¯ or causing them to blunder and waste time searching for opponents that had long since left. As he had observed from his prior glance, resource deprivation, stealth and attrition were its focus.

    Very useful, but Fritz had the strange impression that that¡¯s not all there was to this technique book. I was just a hunch, a subtle touch on the surface of his mind but it was something he couldn''t quite grasp. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, they had a long slog ahead of them and he was feeling worse about their chances than ever.

    He realised just how unprepared they were for this. This spire was far more deadly than any other Minor Spire he had heard of, as the rewards proved. An obscure technique book was a prize for any of the Major Spires'' upper floors or a lucky find anywhere else, but two? Was it luck or was this Spire much worse than he thought and gave them these books to let them have a slim chance at success?

    Fritz gulped and fear spread through him, its icy tendrils gripping his muscles as he anticipated at what must be waiting for them on the higher levels. If those blight hounds were on the first and goblins on the second what is the third going to look like? He wondered ominously.

    Did the Nightshark know just how deadly this Spire was? Yes, he had to have known, anyone coming out of this Spire with a Path is going to be tough, tougher than a usual climber. And even if they blabbed to anyone someone sneaking in is likely to just die.

    I wonder how many people even survive this spire each toll? Is this where he sources his enforcers? If we even survive will we even have a choice of whether to serve him or not? Are we still likely to be killed if we refuse his orders?

    Fritz shook his head shaking off his racing, troubled thoughts, then stood, it had been at least ten minutes and he felt any more thinking would render him too terrified to act.

    Putting away the precious technique book into a pouch at his side, he called out to the crew, ¡°I am ready to venture forth bravely, follow me from three yards away in the agreed-upon formation. We shall be off and upwards towards adventure!¡± Fritz let a fake grin slide across his features then turned to leave, the movement leaving behind the fear that had been stiffening his limbs.

    There were the sounds of groans and scuffling coming from behind him as he led on, hand outstretched with an amber stone glowing in his fist. Out of the pit room and into the darkness with only the swirling orange light to guide them.

    They were as quiet as they could be, but every now and then there was a small scrape or clatter of a loose stone on the gravelly floor. The passage ahead would slant downwards then upwards the winding of the tunnel prevented Fritz from seeing further than a couple of yards ahead.

    They met little, save the heat and dark, that was until Fritz thought he had found the hallway, or one similar to the one he had seen outside the goblin''s ¡®bedroom¡¯. The tunnel had those same peepholes, he snuck up on one of the small openings and went to peer through cautiously.

    He heard a high-pitched giggle from the other side of the wall as if the goblin couldn¡¯t keep in its amusement. He flinched away from the sound, in painful remembrance. That small movement probably saved him an eye as but a moment later a spear shot out of the opening clipping the tip of his ear.

    Fritz stumbled back slapping a hand to the injury, luckily there was no blood, just a glancing strike then.

    Fritz cursed himself,¡®peepholes¡¯ How dumb am I? It was right in front of me. Another trap and it was one he had seen already but hadn¡¯t grasped its purpose. In frustration he grasped his Power pointing his palm forward casting Stone Pit on the hole.

    The hole widened instantly, the wall''s dirt pushed away to reveal the face of a grinning goblin. Fritz thrust his fish blade through the hole catching the goblin in its dark beady eye. Once the sword struck and he could feel the tip hit the back of the goblin¡¯s skull, he twisted the blade and yanked back harshly.

    The goblin fell limply to the gravelly ground, giggling all gone. A goblin next to it screeched in rage and fear alerting the others to the danger. Fritz backed up before they could act. He signalled to the crew and whispered to Sid ¡°I made a hole, can you shoot the goblins through it?¡±

    ¡°Need light,¡± He signalled back. Fritz nodded and aimed a throw, his amber stone spun its spiralling light as he tossed it through the air clean through the foot-wide hole. There were muffled, guttural shouts of surprise when the stone landed in the middle of a group of four goblins.

    Sid took their surprise as an opening, drawing an arrow and nocking it to his bow. Fritz felt a slight breeze and saw an aura of rippling air coalesce around the arrow as it was aimed. Sid loosed the arrow and it whizzed through the air at frightening speed. It passed straight through the chest of the closest goblin and struck one of the others standing beside it, lodging in its pronounced ribs.

    They both slumped to the ground in pain, kicking and gurgling as blood bubbled up from their lungs. The other two goblins looked on in terror then fled. Their fearful chattering and the padding of their filthy feet carried back to the group as the goblins ran away into the darkness.

    Fritz waited for a moment listening for an oncoming rush, but nothing came so he snuck up to the hole and peered into the hidden room. He looked for any stragglers or ambushers but he found only rags, gravel and stinking goblin blood.

    ¡°How many did we kill,¡± Bert asked seriously, as he kept his eyes open for attacks and scowled as he saw the ugliness that was goblin-kind.

    ¡°Sid got two, I got one, watch out for holes in the walls they¡¯re not just for spying as I have belatedly realised,¡± Fritz answered recriminating himself for his mistake. ¡°Nice shot by the way Sid, the wind Power seems to already be paying off, tore clean through that goblin,¡± Fritz complimented earnestly, wiping the blood off his fish sword with a rag.

    Sid merely looked away, seemingly embarrassed. Fritz wondered why the man couldn''t take a compliment but decided not to press the subject in this stinking goblin warren.

    ¡°Yeah it¡¯s definitely something, was aiming for the head though,¡± Sid admitted humbly.

    Fritz shrugged, snuck ahead and kept scouting forward this time on the lookout for more ¡®peepholes¡¯ and other traps.

    The rest of the day continued on like this, Fritz would find a trap or a group of goblins in the walls and they would follow a similar strategy every time. Open a wider hole with Stone Pit then let loose with spears arrows and abilities. The shocked goblins would either die or flee, that was until they stopped finding ¡®wall goblins¡¯ at all.

    ¡°None in this room,¡± Fritz informed the team as he looked through his extended hole. The multiple casting of it through the day had really started to drain his stamina and he felt he could only go on for an hour longer even with his enhanced endurance.

    ¡°Must have caught on to our strategy and are scared. Maybe they aren¡¯t bothering with us anymore now that we¡¯ve killed like twenty of them,¡± Toby said cheerfully for once in his life and patting his belt of throwing daggers contentedly.

    ¡°Thirteen including the ones Fritz said he killed down in the pit,¡± Bert corrected, a hint of fatigue in his voice.

    ¡°Hopefully we find a big enough room to rest in, I¡¯m starting to get really worn down here,¡± Fritz complained, squinting ahead into the darkness.

    They continued on their tired limbs trudging ever onwards, sweating, yawning and occasionally stumbling in the heavy air. Fritz lead the way for what seemed like hours, until they finally came upon what they were searching for.

    He motioned for the team to stand still and peered into the large wood framed doorway he had come across. Inside was a large enough chamber to hold them all easily.

    There was however a big problem, or six big problems to be more precise.

 Chapter 13

    Fritz tore his eyes away from the ¡®problems¡¯ and took in the details of the chamber. It was a large circular room, around sixty feet across and its dirt roof was suspended eight feet overhead, supported by many rough wooden columns. There was easily enough floor space to hold them all, the only issue was the six monsters gathered in the centre, clicking and scuttling about mindlessly.

    They look like skulg, Fritz thought uncharitably about the creatures, then amended his observation, these things were cute in comparison to the wretched skulg.

    They had the rumpled and bumpy chitinous shell of a skulg but that¡¯s where the comparison could be ended. The beetle-esque metallic shells gave off the impression of golden stones sunk in a sea of rippled copper. Their short six legs, like segmented copper spikes, stabbed into the dirt as they milled about the centre of the chamber.

    Their chitinous shell covered their underside as well, they had rounded heads like a brass watermelon with vicious-looking mandibles that clicked and whirred seemingly at random. The thing about them that really made Fritz worry was their size, their shells crested at four or five feet tall, about as tall as the shortest among them, Naomi.

    Fritz returned to his group and began to whisper the situation to them, ¡°The room will suit our needs well, but there are six big beetle things. Shell looks hard, weak points are likely joints and any seams in the shell. They have nasty-looking mandibles and their legs look like they could slash you up bad.¡±

    ¡°Any ideas on tactics?¡± Bert asked the group quietly.

    ¡°They have short legs, maybe we can tip them onto their backs,¡± Fritz suggested. ¡°Let''s try the three groups of three tactics two front-line squads and one ranged support squad. Bert, Toby and Me then Greg, Veronica and Lynn as front-liners. Sid, Jane and Naomi as long-ranged support.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, we know the formations,¡± Veronica chided stiffly, rechecking her shield''s straps and readying her salvaged goblin spear.

    ¡°It bears repeating. After the rib volley, each group target one of the beetles and finishes or tips it as quickly as possible then looks to support one of the other groups. The goal is survival with as few injuries as possible, remember that,¡± Fritz reminded the team.

    He looked them over one last time noting their equipment. Bert was wearing one of the scale shirts and had tucked his fin short-sword into his belt, seemingly preparing to fight the beetles with only his scale-armoured hands. He was softly humming one of his favourite songs, one with a beat to march to or in this case to fight to.

    Toby had his throwing daggers in each of his hands and was wearing one of the leather vests over his dark shirt, his black cloak thrown over his shoulders. Fritz had to begrudgingly admit that Toby looked fairly fearsome. He almost looked like one of the Black Eye¡¯s assassins, or maybe a shoddy copper triad version.

    Jane was wearing her vest and had a pouch full of the potions, she would need them as the Sew Wounds ability would cost her stamina. She still carried one of the last unbroken fish rib spears, most of them had been spent on goblins or lost in the rush to the door on the first floor.

    Veronica and Naomi were equipped with leather vests, small wooden shields, goblin spears and fin daggers tucked into their belts. Veronica also had Sid¡¯s sling hanging next to her fin dagger it had been passed off some time prior. They looked nervous and tired, but underneath the wear and tear, the dirt and grime there was a determination in their eyes.

    Lynn carried nothing save her bags and the spare leather vest, she looked worried but eager to test her Stone Fists against the shells of these monstrous beetles.

    Greg wore the brutish black iron helmet and was still wielding the fish skull-flail, though he had been complaining that the fibres that held the spine together were starting to come apart. His body glittered with the other scale shirt.

    Fritz himself looked down to check his own leather vest and shield was in place, he gave his fish blade cloth hilt one more re-tighten. He looked ahead, nodded to the rest and advanced with fish blade and shield raised.

    The beetles only noticed them once the rib spears fell upon them in a shower of silver needles. The spears glanced off their metallic shells harmlessly, clinking like steel wind chimes and bouncing onto the floor.

    The creatures looked around slowly, the amber orbs set in their heads swivelling to find their attackers. They eventually spotted the team, but the battle plan was already in action, the two front-line teams charged their respective targets.

    The copper beetles made meandering turns to face them, but not before Greg had already swung his skull-flail in a glittering upwards arc. The skull and spine blurred and exploded with crackling black lines as it struck the underside of the beetles shell. The strike cratered the beasts shining chitin and threw it onto its back from the prodigious strength of the blow.

    Greg guffawed darkly as its short sharp legs flurried uselessly at the air and the cracks in its carapace began to leak orange goo.

    Fritz ran behind Bert as they charged the beetle their team had chosen.

    Bert slammed into the creature rocking it slightly, but stopping Bert dead in his tracks. It spun ponderously to face the sudden force, slashing and biting with its hooked golden mandibles. As its head approached Bert he suddenly ducked under the swinging mandible and rose in a powerful uppercut. His hand seemed to be vibrating with an invisible energy, his fist looked like it was covered in a rapidly pulsing heat haze.

    The punch landed with a dull thump and the beetle''s legs fell out from under it and its head wobbled and wavered as it attempted to stand again. Toby sprinted forward stabbing his throwing dagger into the space between the creature''s head and shelled body. The blade lit up with a subtle red-black glow, the light of which stabbed out like a serrated edge.

    The blade met the seam and plunged in deep, Toby slipped it smoothly free of the beetle¡¯s neck. A torrent of blood spurted from the perforation, spraying Toby straight in his smirking face, he staggered back spitting the sticky orange fluid out of his mouth.

    Fritz yelled out a warning as he saw the centremost beetle orient on Toby and charge startlingly fast and just as unstoppable as a bull. A big metallic beetle bull.

    Toby wiped the blood out of his eyes, and only just managed to tumble out of the way of the charging beetle, he threw one of his daggers with that same red-black light stabbing out of it. It skittered and ground against the creature''s glittering shell leaving a jagged furrow where it struck but leaving the beetle otherwise unharmed.

    The beetle rushed past Fritz as it kept pushing forward, as its copper spike legs pistoned past him he chopped his fish blade downwards catching it right on its segmented joint and shearing it clean off.

    I guess silver fish beats copper beetle, Fritz concluded as he pursued the lumbering bug hacking away its other two shining, skittering legs with one well placed slash. With no legs left on its side, the beetle slid to a shuddering stop crushing its remaining limbs beneath its considerable bulk.

    Fritz pulled his attention away from the beast, looking for the other, still active, beetles. Another had been flipped by Greg leaving just two more preparing to charge the teams. One sped towards a distracted Bert, he was looking towards Fritz worriedly when the beetle¡¯s mandibles connected. Its prongs speared through his scaled shirt and it clamped down and pinned him in place with both of its copper mandibles.

    Bert let out a shout of pain as he was pierced and lifted from his feet, he managed to pull one arm free of the mandible''s trap and struck down with his fist in a hammer blow. The fist roiled in that heat haze again and slammed down on top of the beetle''s eye, popping it and causing the creature to fall on its belly while letting out a whirring screech. Its mandibles stayed cinched tight around Bert¡¯s chest and arm though and he rained his fist onto its solid head again and again seemingly with no effect.

    Fritz lurched to Bert¡¯s aid, sprinting forward and leaving the collapsed, legless beetle behind for Toby to finish off with Laceration. He lifted his fish blade before him and with a long lunging stab found the shell''s seam with the tip of his blade, he thrust forward putting his entire weight behind the strike. The sword slid in with a light resistance with a subtle grating at its edges, Fritz twisted his blade prying its shell apart like he was trying to shuck a clam.

    The monster tried to stumble away from the prying blade but Fritz just followed its retreat dragging the blade along the inside of its shell. He was sawing at its insides and its gooey orange blood glugged out and splattered to the floor with every thrust and pull of the blade¡¯s serrated edge. The beetle whirred and screeched the noise rang in Fritz¡¯s pained ears. Fritz kept carving the beetle for what seemed like minutes until he realised someone was shouting his name.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Fritz! It¡¯s dead! You¡¯ve killed it! It¡¯s dead!¡± Bert yelled out in grunts as he tried to pry himself free of the mandible''s crushing grip, it seemed the creature didn¡¯t let go even in death. ¡°Help me get free.¡±

    Fritz pulled his blade free of the monster''s shell and put it to one of the blood-slick mandibles that was holding his best friend pinned. He began to saw away at it and within a couple of moments Bert was free and lying, wounded, on the ground.

    Jane rushed to his side and cast her Sew Wounds spell the pale green light pouring forth and stitching Bert¡¯s worst wounds. Bert let out a groan of pain then a sigh of relief as Veronica started to apply some of the healer''s grease to his other, less serious, bruises and cuts.

    Fritz looked around the former battlefield to see five beetles lying still with only one still flailing uselessly on its back. Lynn strode up to the helpless creature, the dark skin of her fists coloured like granite, and punched into the beetle''s head, denting it with a dull clang. She continued with a combination of straight short strikes that eventually broke apart the creature''s head pulping it open like a brass watermelon filled with sticky, orange jelly.

    One of the beetles had a hole straight through its head and an arrow lodged in its shell behind it, while the rest seemed to have been either bled out by Lacerate or had their head caved in by flail strikes or Lynn¡¯s fists. Fritz couldn¡¯t tell which.

    ¡°Anyone else wounded?¡± Jane called out professionally as she tended to the last of Bert¡¯s wounds with Veronica.

    There was a chorus of ¡®nopes¡¯ ¡°none here¡¯ and ¡°I¡¯m fines¡¯ from the respective teams.

    Jane sighed a breath of relief as did Fritz as he sank to the ground and sat heavily. He dropped his fish blade to his side and picked up the mandible he cut free, inspecting it.

    ¡°I like the copper beetles less than the goblins,¡± Bert said wincing as he sat up, pushed his sweat-slick hair out of his face and looked to Fritz.

    ¡°I disagree at least these beetle''s blood smells better, almost like pickled honey mixed with licorice,¡± Fritz espoused thoughtfully.

    ¡°I hate licorice,¡± Bert argued wrinkling his nose then wincing, ¡°Plus, look how many holes this beetle poked into me.¡±

    Bert removed his armoured shirt and showed off the multitude of holes and tears around his waist where he was grabbed, pinned and shaken.

    ¡°Whoa, look at your chest muscles, and look you¡¯re abs are much more pronounced, I can barely see your ribs, that monster meat is really filling you out quickly,¡± Fritz declared goggling.

    He found he wasn¡¯t the only one doing so, all the ladies and even Sid had joined in staring at the changes the fish and Power had wrought. Fritz quickly looked over his own physique, pinching and grabbing his arms and chest then decried ¡°Woe is me, I have none of the same growth, would you really leave me behind muscle-less, bag-brother!?¡±

    Bert had the good grace to look embarrassed at all the staring and hastily pulled his scale shirt back over his cut and scarred skin. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid Fritz, you¡¯re filling out too, we all are haven¡¯t you noticed it? I thought you put all your Attribute points into perception. Though knowing you, you were offered the Advanced Attribute Insanity and put them all in that.¡± He commented playfully, smiling around at the ladies red-faced.

    Fritz glanced at the others in the team, noting that Bert was right, everyone was looking much haler even through their fatigue. Greg and Bert had filled out noticeably while Toby, Fritz and Sid had remained largely the same, skinny except with more solidity to their frames. The women were another story as they had been among the best-fed of the street rats, but they definitely looked lean instead of just skinny. Fritz tried not to stare at their more pronounced assets, he was a gentleman after all.

    Sid caught him looking them over and scowled at him, saying ¡°Stop staring so hard, keep that enhanced Perception to yourself fishwit.¡±

    Fritz tried to act innocent but he suspected he just came off looking more guilty. He thought on the other part of Bert¡¯s statement, then spoke up, ¡°Must be those points in strength helping out, building your muscles out easier. That aside I¡¯m glad that I¡¯ll have Toby and Sid to keep me company in the no-muscles-crew.¡±

    Toby and Sid glowered at him, then after finding Fritz smiling and unrepentant, turned to the beetles, ¡°What are we gonna do with them?¡± Toby asked pointing at the copper corpses. ¡°Salvage their shells for armour? Their mandibles look like gold, maybe they¡¯re valuable on the outside?¡±

    Bert looked over them, but before he could speak Sid interjected, ¡°How about we use their corpses to barricade the entrance? There doesn¡¯t seem to be another way in and we need to rest. Maybe we can train some of those techniques if this place is defensible. It has to have been more than a day and we¡¯re all run ragged.¡±

    No one put up any arguments and they got to work trying to move the bulky heavy beetles, mostly they relied on Greg, Lynn and Bert¡¯s increased strength to get it done. They lined them up clogging up the only way in as Fritz searched the rest of the chamber, checking for traps and other hidden surprises. Luckily he found none.

    Veronica said she¡¯d take the first watch as she had the Second Wind Ability, and sat by the beetle barricade. Naomi and Lynn joined her laying out their oilcloth to sleep on while she looked out for stealthy goblins.

    Fritz could barely keep his eyes open and lay next to Bert and Greg who were setting up in the centre. Jane and Toby set up by the wall to have a little bit of privacy not that they needed it as Jane fell asleep in Toby¡¯s arms instantly and he joined her in sleep barely moments later.

    Sid decided to place his oilcloth down between the ladies and the other men, like a barrier. Fritz may have been annoyed at this at any other time but right now he was just too tired.

    Even in the heavy hot air and Greg¡¯s relentless snoring he fell asleep easily and slept beside his friends.

    Some time later Fritz awoke his whole body aching from overuse, however, his mind was no longer as sluggish and muddy as it was before. He hadn¡¯t realised just how tired he must have been. Fritz sat up to see only Sid awake as well, he waved at him to grab his attention. Sid nodded and motioned him over.

    Fritz stood gingerly, trying not to push his strained muscles too much, and softly walked over to Sid¡¯s sitting place attempting to not wake those still sleeping.

    ¡°Hi Sid, how are you feeling this fine..whatever time it is?¡± Fritz whispered smiling.

    ¡°Not a Goddess this time?¡± Sid mocked returning the smile.

    ¡°Ah, sorry about that, near death experiences seem to bring out the insanity in me,¡± Fritz apologised then pulled out his Technique book, opening the small journal to the first page. ¡°Want to get to reading this thing?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Sid said awkwardly shuffling his shoulders as Fritz sat next to him and placed the book between them.

    ¡°Just say when you¡¯re finished with the page, no need to rush or anything, I think we¡¯ll train down here until we have this stuff learnt or run out of food, whichever comes first,¡± Fritz explained quietly.

    ¡°I think we should all learn both Techniques if we can,¡± Sid whispered back, surprising Fritz.

    ¡°Why?¡± He asked curiously.

    ¡°Because we won''t always have weapons or ammunition, sometimes things break or get taken. I¡¯d also like to see the girls be able to defend themselves when push comes to shove,¡± Sid said a light melancholy in his tone.

    ¡°Huh, you really do care for them. I agree, we¡¯ll learn as much as we can to be prepared for what comes next,¡± Fritz replied nodding his head and rubbing his hand through his short hair. ¡°Speaking of what comes next, are you leaving after the third floor with the ladies? Because we¡¯re all going to climb the whole way and you¡¯ve really proven yourself to be beyond just capable.¡±

    ¡°Are you inviting me to climb with you guys, again? Well, I might consider it if you asked nicely, again,¡± Sid smirked slyly.

    ¡°I am asking, and this is nicely. Though if you insist on something nicer I could write up a speech, or a poem if you¡¯re into that sort of thing,¡± Fritz teased, meeting Sid¡¯s smirk with his own.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were a poet, you would write a poem just for me? I¡¯d really like to hear that,¡± Sid said meeting his eyes then giggled, quite girlishly, at Fritz¡¯s surprised look. Sid covered his mouth and broke the eye contact, he stared instead at the book between them, leaving them in an awkward silence.

    Fritz decided not to comment on the odd reaction or Sid¡¯s reddening face, he seemed quite embarrassed about that giggle and Fritz didn¡¯t want to aggravate him too much if they were going to keep climbing together.

    Fritz shrugged and began to read trying to commit as much of the book to memory as he could. Still, the silence lay between them, punctuated only with the faint sound of turning pages and Sid softly saying, ¡°Done.¡±

 Chapter 14

    The hours melted away as Sid and Fritz focused on their study of the technique book, pointing out interesting passages and committing to memory the useful weapon drills and the pages that displayed them. The book was surprisingly short as they were able to read through the entire thing and were just going over the starting passages for a second time when they were interrupted.

    ¡°Learnt the Technique yet, book buddies?¡± Bert asked startling Fritz and Sid who now realised they were sitting uncomfortably close.

    Sid was first in sidling away from Fritz, who stood and replied animatedly, ¡°Bert it¡¯s good you¡¯re finally awake! Sid has pointed out that we are limiting ourselves by only learning one of the Techniques, so I beseech thee to grant me your wisdom and bestow upon my humble mind what you have gleaned from the profound text of the Arte Pugilist.¡±

    Bert smiled back and assumed the Arte Pugilist''s fighting stance. He stood side-on with his arms raised, forearms protecting his upper body and jaw. He hunched his shoulders and tucked in his chin making his profile smaller and his weak points harder to hit while he stood on the balls of his feet.

    Fritz looked him over and attempted to copy the stance, it looked a little like a classic bare-knuckle prizefighting stance but it was more compact likely it was trying to make as small a target as possible while also being able to take advantage of an opening.

    He hadn¡¯t seen anything quite like it in the underground prize fighting matches he had watched. But then again he¡¯d only been a couple of times before and usually the fighters, while they had been Pathers, were only level ten at best and likely didn¡¯t have access to such exotic Techniques.

    Only level ten!? You¡¯ll be lucky to make it that far yourself, Fritz chided himself in frustration.

    The real prizefights had Pathers and Climbers well into level thirty and above slugging it out with strange or flashy Abilities and Techniques. Those matches were held in the Upper Ring¡¯s Arena for the amusement of the wealthy and the powerful. Far beyond the reach and means for an urchin like himself.

    Bert shook his head as he looked at Fritz¡¯s shoddy stance, then beckoned him over to show him the diagrams and passages of the Technique book. ¡°It looks all wrong when you do it like that, put your feet like this, arms up, yes that¡¯s better and look here at this passage. Be coiled like a spring, bend the legs, be on the balls of your feet, be ready to defend and attack at a moment''s notice.¡± Bert explained then showed off some of the progress he had made with Lynn.

    The book constantly mentioned its ideal form of ¡®slipping¡¯ blows by a hair''s breadth and following up with swift punishing counters. The more he read of the style the more he concluded it was a madman''s way of fighting, you¡¯d have to be completely enamoured with the danger of imminent death to practise this Arte Pugilist against armed opponents or monsters.

    Consequently, Bert had a real knack for this kind of fighting Fritz found out as he sparred with the insane golden-haired youth. Bert always loved riding that line between triumph and tragedy and that aspect of his character shone through brightly as he slipped one of Fritz¡¯s clumsy jabs and swung a fist into his side. Thankfully he was pulling his punches but Fritz still felt his legs go out from under him and he fell to the dirt kicking up a cloud of dust.

    ¡°Ouch... I... think... that¡¯s... enough... for... me,¡± Fritz wheezed while lying on his back and gasping for air. ¡°Sid¡¯s¡­ turn¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s practising with Lynn right now,¡± Bert informed the downed Fritz.

    ¡°Greg... then,¡± Fritz tried to smile as he imagined Greg enduring this same punishment.

    ¡°Good idea I¡¯ll get Toby too, he can''t stay huddled with Jane for the rest of the morning,¡± Bert agreed easily, wiping his sweaty brow with the cuff of his yellowed shirt.

    Fritz watched and tried to recover as Bert strode off to find the guys, humming his little marching song as he went.

    As he lay there he thought of the other Technique book. The Observations and Impressions of an Officer Contending in an Asymmetrical Conflict: The Training Method and Guide to Effective Strategic Engagement and Skirmishing by Theodore Flynte, or as Fritz had started to call it ¡®The Observations¡¯ had an eclectic mix of lessons and drills only some of which were of use at the moment.

    He compiled a list of those he and Sid had thought most useful in his mind, spear drills, sprinting and scattering lessons seemed most promising. Stealth they had covered, as much of it they had learnt the hard way on the streets. The tracking and scouting section held a particular interest to Fritz and he had already learnt a few tricks from its pages. The real gold though was the interesting tricks it outlined for causing the most suffering and debilitation on enemies by targeting non-vital vulnerabilities in order to slow, stall or ¡®bleed¡¯ a powerful opponent.

    Unfortunately for Fritz, The Observations didn¡¯t contain any skills or drills for rapier-like weapons, which made sense rapier weren¡¯t exactly a common tool of war or monster hunting. The reason being that they were often too delicate even though they could pierce an opponent''s armour or tough hide the blade might just snap if hit with too much force. This could be remedied with enchantment and mythic metals but as they were beyond expensive and they remained in the purview of the nobility or wealthy.

    Fritz¡¯s father had one of his own that he said he had received as a wedding gift from the King himself, though they had lost it in the ransacking of his estate. Probably looted by some thug guild enforcer and pawned for beer money, Fritz thought sourly, his mood darkening by the minute.

    He remembered that shining silver blade with that bright line of cyan light that ran down the sword''s centre. Even then he could tell the edge had an ephemeral quality of sharpness, like it wholly existed just to pierce all that lay before it.

    Fritz forced his thoughts away from the blade and back to the book, he tried to read the pages but they looked blurry to his suddenly wet eyes. He wiped away at the treacherous liquid and focused again on the words, again they didn¡¯t make sense to his darkly spiralling mind. He gritted his teeth and controlled his breathing slowing his furious heart, dousing his burning emotions and pushing away at the heavy hollowness in his soul.

    He was Fritz again after a few minutes of breathing and suppression, the mad and wonderful Fritz, he sighed in relief. That was a close one, he thought and reoriented his eyes onto the Technique book and found something interesting.

    It had a guide on how to detect these non-vital weak points but most of it seemed self-explanatory to Fritz, he had already been doing something similar even if was just in the heat of a battle. Still, A little bit more knowledge here or there could be the difference between life or death in a Spire or out of it.

    After they had tried their hand at sparring and the watch was being handled by Jane, Fritz told them of his and Sid¡¯s plan to run them through both The Observation''s the drills and The Arte Pugilist until either the food supplies ran out or they learnt all they could. It was met with groans but no one had any serious complaints as they all knew it would help their survival chances.

    The rest of the day passed in somewhat of a haze, with them all training the Techniques then resting up, eating, then training again then resting up, eating then training again, on and on. How many hours or even days they spent practising and drilling none could tell, they all went through watches three times over, only sometimes bothered by packs of goblins.

    When the goblins came, the crew found they could be easily repelled with both the barricade blocking their assaults and the hail of spears, knives, arrows and sling stones hurled their way. Leaving split, speared and mangled bodies in the wake of their failed assaults.

    The mingling of the scents of days-old rotting goblin flesh and decomposing beetle had found the barricade being summarily re-dubbed as the Stinkwall. But in reality, the whole chamber had begun to reek, as they were immersed, pickled really, in the wretched stench.

    Sometime after one of Fritz and Bert¡¯s sweaty struggling unarmed sparring sessions Bert let out a cry of joy as he arose from his sanctum, ¡°I got it! One out of three Techniques. Arte Pugilist Novice!¡± The man was near tears and Fritz slammed into him with a triumphant embrace, then gifted Bert with the proper series of claps on the back.

    Bert''s face once clean-shaven like the other men but now covered on a subtle golden stubble, was cracked in a wide grin and he threw his first into the air in exuberance. His shirt''s cuff made a snapping sound as it reached its apex, much to Bert''s delight.

    ¡°It''s already working it seems,¡± Bert exclaimed happily as he flurried out a punch-punch-kick combination at the air, all whooshing and cracking with the speed and force of his strikes. Fritz didn¡¯t need his enhanced perception to see the effect it was having on Bert''s fighting ability, it was like he was now a professional instead of an enthusiastic amateur. His strikes cleaner and more precise than ever before.

    Fritz grinned along with Bert, Bert¡¯s mood seemed to be infectious as the crew gathered to watch his new Technique exuberantly displayed. After a small amount of applause, Lynn immediately took him by the arm and led him off to show him the finer points of the style. Which he did graciously, teaching her to unlock the technique in barely half an hour. It seemed even at a novice level, a technique was far easier to teach if you had already unlocked and understood its secrets.

    Strangely enough, Naomi was the next to learn the Arte Pugilist, though maybe it wasn¡¯t that strange considering her Flurry Ability. Veronica was next to achieve the technique along with Greg, Jane and Toby.

    Fritz and Sid had the hardest time learning the style, Bert said this was because Fritz was too flashy and Sid was too furious. Fritz attempted too many feints, and flourishes, not committing to his strikes properly. While Sid would relentlessly assault his opponent, not looking for escapes or dodges.

    Fritz was frustrated that Greg of all people had learnt the Technique quicker than him, the others were fine, but Greg? Then man was hard-headed through and through.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean that you¡¯re just more stubborn than he is?¡± Sid asked as he complained to him about their shared predicament.

    ¡°I¡¯m not stubborn,¡± Fritz retorted stubbornly. ¡°Or, maybe I am,¡± Fritz said petulantly. ¡°But what about you? You just go mad whenever someone attempts to spar with you.¡±

    Sid sighed out a pensive breath, thought a moment, and spoke. ¡°It''s a safety thing, make it not worth it to fight me. Always give more than you get, then you get a reputation. Then they wont fight you. It''s worked so far.¡±

    ¡°I can attest to the validity of that,¡± Fritz said rubbing at a phantom tightness around his neck. ¡°But no one here wants to hurt you, you should try clearing your mind of that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how it works Fritz,¡± Sid growled, scowling in Fritz''s direction. ¡°It¡¯s deep and it''s part of what made me safe on those streets. I don¡¯t have a tight-knit gang like you, I¡¯ve fended for myself, I¡¯ve been alone.¡±

    There was a furious, bitter cadence to Sid¡¯s words that cowed Fritz into silence, and he felt stupid for what he had said. He supposed he should apologise. But he let the silence wear on for a moment too long.

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    Sid stood and strode off without another word, anger and a determination writ plainly on his soft featured, smooth face. Leaving Fritz to sit alone. He rubbed his hands over his stubbled chin, contemplating his mistake, his failures and also feeling he was missing something. Really, he felt he was missing a lot.

    The crew were gathered and practising a scattering exercise from the Observations Technique book when suddenly Fritz felt a profound ripple in his sanctum. He called the exercise to a halt and told everyone to rest as he checked out what was going on inside him. Bert smiled at him knowingly but said nothing as he drank from his water-skin, they were starting to run low.

    Fritz focused, and let himself be pulled inward towards the cold star in his chest. He was falling and spinning then he stood still on muddy ground. The rain still fell softly in his sanctum and the place looked the same as before. The willow stood tall swaying in a soft breeze, countless drops of water dripping off its outermost leaves and onto the muddy grounds that were still littered with deep puddles.

    Now that he looked though, the place had changed subtly, the once randomly strewn puddles now seemed to be placed more strategically. They had been dug so that one must weave and wander so as not to fall into one while approaching the willow or the pavilion beneath its protective canopy. They had been made into an obstacle, an almost moat to protect the castle that was his willow.

    Fritz smiled at the realisation feeling as though he had achieved something great, now all there was to do was check his Spire sheet to be sure he had acquired the Technique. He called on his Sanctum ¡°Spire Readout.¡±

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 1

    Path: ---

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 3

    Endurance: 3

    Perception: 9

    Focus: 3

    Memory: 3

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Activated 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Path 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Huh, it shortened the title automatically, Fritz mused. I wonder if it can tell me more. He concentrated on the Technique, he could feel it, a subtle shade of invisible light colouring his Sanctum¡¯s brilliance. As he did the idea and concepts rushed into his mind again giving him the impression of a description, then the information appeared in glyphs of silvery light he could read.

    ---------

    Technique

    ---------

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    This Technique grants minor benefits to stealth, tracking, running, attrition and debilitating effects and Abilities.

    Abilities gained and Evolved are more likely to be influenced with these effects.

    ---

    You read, practised and understood the Techniques in ¡°The Observations and Impressions of an Officer Contending in an Asymmetrical Conflict: The Training Method and Guide to Effective Strategic Engagement and Skirmishing by Theodore Flynte¡±

    ---

    ---------

    I was mostly right about the Techniques focus, but minor benefits? What does that even mean? Not for the first time Fritz was frustrated that he hadn¡¯t paid more attention to his father''s lessons, though even if he had, he doubted he¡¯d ever been told about the intricacies of Techniques.

    Fritz resolved to find an Ability Tutor or Spire Scholar to help him understand what this all meant if he survived the Spire that is. Even if it was bound to be prohibitively expensive, still, it would be worth the price to Fritz.

    As it was he would just muddle through like the rest of the urchins and poorer folk with no access to the esteemed institutes and universities that taught the well-to-do all they needed to know about their Attributes, Abilities, Paths and traits. They would often also learn a few choice techniques ready to be activated and understood once they had cleared their first floor.

    Fritz sighed bitterly, realising that sighing was becoming a bad habit and one he didn¡¯t want to reinforce so he let his mind wander away from the what-ifs and the have-nots and resurfaced to the real world.

    ¡°Well?¡± Bert asked simply.

    ¡°Hark! Brave followers and idle knaves!¡± Fritz called out addressing the entire chamber with every ounce of eloquence he possessed, as he felt they deserved a little speech along with the good news. They gathered around Fritz with questioning or long suffering looks on their faces depending for how long they¡¯d known him.

    ¡°These days have been trying on body, mind and soul, but lo see that I have mastered The Observations at a Novice level and soon you will all too. Rave and rejoice! Only a few more drills, sprints and practises and we will all be skirmishers beyond compare and ready to leave our reeking, revolting refuge. To move onwards and upwards to heights we have been told to never dream of but dared to dream anyway. Be happy and hardy, just one last push and then to the third floor and to freedom.¡±

    Fritz let his voice fall to a quiet solemn tone, an entreaty to their desire to survive. He looked around at their faces and saw the resolution harden in their eyes. Naomi, Veronica and Jane also had tears forming under that resolution. Oops, maybe I got a little too emotional? Fritz chastised himself as he found his eyes were also starting to wet.

    He turned away, brushing his eyes with his shirt but hiding it by pretending to wipe his brow, and yelled, ¡°Sprinting positions! Hop to it!¡±

    The others startled, then followed his brusque command, falling into line and returning to the drills. They toiled away inspired by Fritz''s impromptu speech and running themselves ragged, their efforts were rewarded, Sid, Toby and Veronica got the Technique by the end of the hour. Bert and the others got it some time later and then all that was left was Sid and Fritz to finally understand the Arte Pugilist.

    The goblins had stopped assaulting them at least four watches ago which put Fritz on edge as it felt suspicious. He put it out of his mind for now he needed to learn this unarmed Technique and he hadn¡¯t time nor the will to go hunting for goblins.

    The hours dragged on, Fritz was sparring with Greg, trying his best to fight his instincts, his already ingrained fighting style led him to feint, dodge and distract rather than fight head-on like the Arte Pugilist wanted. Even Sid had his breakthrough an hour earlier and was sitting watching Fritz and Greg¡¯s bout. Sid still had a mote of anger sparked in the self-satisfaction of his bright blue eyes as they tracked Fritz¡¯s tricky movements in quiet judgement.

    ¡°Step in not out,¡± Greg grumbled in frustration as Fritz leapt backwards from a slow straight punch.

    ¡°You¡¯re fancy-lad training is showing. No guts, no grit, just a soft scaredy-skulg who don¡¯t wanna risk getting hit. Get over here and fight,¡± Greg demanded gruffly, motioning Fritz to come within his reach.

    Fritz didn¡¯t take the bait, he and Greg had a somewhat adversarial relationship and that¡¯s why Bert thought to spar them against each other. They didn¡¯t pull their punches as much as the others would and Bert was hoping to force Fritz to use the Technique properly. It galled Fritz to be taunted and knocked down repeatedly, but they were right in that he couldn¡¯t grasp the Arte Pugilist and its subtleties or lack thereof. Because of some ineffable quality of his already established darting, duelling style.

    The Arte Pugilist required its user to stay within reach and minimise the damage you took but Fritz just couldn¡¯t seem to see the logic. Why stay in reach and dodge when you can just stay out of range and not be in danger of being hit at all?

    Fritz was about to retort to Greg¡¯s insult when suddenly there was a crashing of dirt behind him, opposite the Stinkwall. Sid spun as did Fritz. Taking advantage of the distraction, Greg charged his back and landed a solid painful blow to Fritz¡¯s spine. Fritz lost his feet falling hard onto the rough gravel.

    He raised his head to search the area he heard the commotion coming from and saw something that made his blood run cold. Goblins, lots of goblins.

 Chapter 15

    A rushing tide of grey, wrinkled, stick-thin figures began streaming out of a recently burrowed hole opposite the Stinkwall, catching his crew completely off-guard and unequipped. The goblins carried a multitude of scavenged weapons and mining tools and rushed the crew''s camp in a giggling, guffawing and jabbering flood.

    Fritz wheezed out a warning, ¡°Greg... Stop... Look... Goblin... Hole... Goblin hole.¡± He forced out the words hoping they¡¯d reach the bulky man looming over his prone form and stop from pummelling Fritz now that they were now being ambushed. He needn¡¯t have bothered, as Greg let out a shout of alarm as a spear whizzed past his head.

    Fritz heard the man sprint off to grab his armour and skull flail, leaving him sprawled face down in the dirt. Sid rushed to Fritz¡¯s side and held out a helping hand while glancing rapidly at the onrushing goblins. He took Sid¡¯s hand and let himself be pulled up to his feet, he started to sweat, he couldn¡¯t count all the goblins charging them.

    Fritz seized his energy and cast a Stone Pit into the gibbering horde, hoping to stall and trip even a few goblins. It worked better than expected as one of the foul creatures slipped into the newly formed hole and pulled down one of its brethren that was running beside it.

    This turned into somewhat of a chain reaction as the goblin behind staggered, toppling over the fallen goblin¡¯s prone form. A pileup had started to form until the swarm uncaringly stampeded over their fellow goblins crushing them underfoot in their mad dash to reach Fritz and his crew.

    Fritz lifted himself to his feet, dashed to retrieve his blade from where he had left it next to his makeshift bedroll.

    Unfortunately, the goblins were far quicker than their small statures and weak-looking legs would suggest. They were already upon him and Sid. Fritz dodged a spear thrust, leaping back and almost jumping into another goblin''s rusty mining pick swung at his back. He spun, dodging just out of the way of getting a new hole where his spine should be. The motion flung his elbow into a goblin¡¯s hideous face. With a crack, like stepping on old fish bones, the goblin''s nose was shattered from the inadvertent strike.

    Fritz and Sid found themselves surrounded by the stinking giggling monsters, Fritz saw Sid¡¯s eyes focus on their bow out in the distance. He gauged the distance glaring through the goblins in the way, he ducked his head and dropped into the now familiar coiled Arte Pugilist stance. He winked at Fritz, a burning coal of fury catching to ember in his eyes and intoned, ¡°Step in, not out Fritz, see you on the other side.¡±

    Sid sprang at the goblins between himself and his bow, slipping skilfully under a spear¡¯s thrust and countering with a devastating straight punch that blew the goblin and the two behind it off their feet with a roiling gust of wind. The first goblin fared poorly, its emaciated rib cage seemed to have collapsed in on itself and it lay in the dirt struggling for breath.

    The two that had been bowled over by the sudden blast of air got to their feet quickly, but not quick enough to save them from Sid¡¯s onslaught. He had already closed the distance elbowing one, deliberately, in the side of its head, and grabbing the other by an oversized ear and dragging its head into a vicious rising knee. Their skulls shattered with sickening cracks and they dropped limply to the ground.

    Sid pushed on into the throng of goblins. Fritz held back and watched, counting his enemies, there had to be at least thirty. Maybe fifty if he wasn¡¯t just going mad with panic. Sid¡¯s back became lost to Fritz¡¯s sight as was distracted by a leather clad goblin charging at him with a wicked club.

    He dodged the spiked club by leaping backwards, again, straight into another goblin''s strike. This time Fritz was unlucky and a stinging line of pain lit up across his back. He was double unlucky as he wasn¡¯t wearing his leather vest as he had complained,¡®It¡¯s too hot to train in.¡± He cursed his soft as skulg-slime former self.

    Another blow came from the side, this time, a club that smashed into his thigh, painfully numbing it. He glanced around trying to find a way to break out from being surrounded, to get out of his enemy''s reach but found he had no space to maneuver, to dodge or to dart. Now or never I guess, time to take Sid and Greg¡¯s advice, Fritz conceded as his mounting terror threatened to overwhelm him.

    He ducked his head, hunched his shoulders, placed his feet just so, lifted his arms to cover his head and neck and stepped into an oncoming spear thrust. He clumsily slipped under the spearhead so it only lightly cut his shoulder and made to strike at the spear bearer with a quick jab. He caught himself before he missed his opportunity and instead put all the force he could muster into the jab, rendering it into more of a heavy punch.

    The blow connected, hard, breaking the goblin''s jaw clean off with a hideous snap. Fritz could feel the goblin''s tiny needle teeth lodged between his knuckle bones as he pulled his fist away. However that didn¡¯t hold his attention, no he felt that same strange energy as when he learned ¡®The Observations.¡¯ It stuck him again, a soft ripple that helped shape and guide his power, another subtle light to his invisible radiance and he knew he had earned the Technique that had eluded him so far.

    It wasn¡¯t perfect but it helped, he felt his body pull in on itself, his muscles and limbs seemed to compress, coiled to strike and strike hard. Blows rained upon him, but he dodged them with as little movement as possible, slipping them slightly or mitigating the force by shrugging with the blow when he was hit. He struck out in return, weaving between attacks and delivering compact but powerful punches, elbows and kicks to the diminutive creatures, shattering bones, cracking skulls and rupturing organs when he connected.

    He pushed through the swarm, killing or wounding at least four goblins, and using his Stone Pit to sow chaos upon the goblins that attempted to pursue him by baiting them into a newly formed hole. Fritz could feel his Techniques and his Ability working in tandem supporting his efforts to get away and to cause mayhem within their thronging mass. He could see that the goblins were striking each other as much, if not more, than they were striking Fritz.

    But there were just far too many, Fritz felt a painful stab then a powerful pull in his calf and slipped heavily to the ground. He looked around to find one of the bulkier goblins had pierced his leg with a mining pick and was swinging down with a mallet in its other hand. The mallet rippled with a magical heat haze. Fritz had seen Bert use Concussive Blow enough times to recognise the Ability and the goblin was aiming it down in a direct arc onto his head. He knew if he was hit it was lights out, forever.

    A low echoing scream of fury washed over Fritz and the goblins, they quailed for a moment, stopping their movement for a second. Which bought just enough time for Bert to leap into the fray and throw a rippling fist into the back of the bulky goblin¡¯s rumpled head. The force of the strike slammed it head-first into the dirt, killing it.

    Bert started laying into the goblins around Fritz with his fists and feet. Greg came up behind him whirling that whistling skull-flail and yelling curses through his black helm. The flail was a true menace in the tightly packed goblin swarm, it slammed into swathes of the creature, shattering their weapons, armour and bones with its terrible force and cracking black light.

    Fritz struggled to his feet, searching desperately for his fish blade, and heard a high-pitched cry ¡°Fritz, fish blade incoming!¡±

    He spun toward the voice and saw Sid held the sword overhead like a javelin, wind whipped around it and Sid let it fly. It soared, almost like an arrow, just slower and more devastating as it pierced and tore through a line of goblins. Severed stick-thin limbs were tossed into the air and blood sprayed forth in scores of small streams.

    The blade struck tip-first, digging into the ground beside Fritz with a roiling gust of wind that blew dust directly into Fritz¡¯s face. He spluttered, choked and covered his eyes as he seized the fish blade by its cloth hilt and yanked it out of the dusty floor.

    With Quicksilver in hand he swung, thrust and cut at the now wavering goblins. His blows met their unarmoured grey flesh, severed their limbs, and punctured their bodies. Fritz could see Sid¡¯s arrows bore into the bulkier goblins, piecing their makeshift rag-and-leather armour, and picking off their largest warriors one by one.

    Fritz saw Veronica, Lynn and Naomi protecting Jane from the onrushing swarm. Their shields held high and fin blades flashing in the amber light while they slashed and stabbed at the goblins. Naomi¡¯s blade blurred as she activated Flurry, it rose and fell cutting away at spear shafts and thin goblin limbs. Veronica kept her shield raised and protected Jane from any goblin attackers while Lynn had her back, brutalising any goblin unfortunate enough to enter the reach of her stone fists.

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    A bright bolt of blue-green flame burst against Veronica''s shield, setting it alight with eldritch flame. It burned with a high, wailing screech.

    Magic! That¡¯s not good.

    Fritz immediately began tracing the flaming bolt''s path, which lead his gaze to a hunched goblin. It gripped a fetish-laden staff and held a flickering spark of blue-green flame over one elongated palm as it shuffled from foot to foot in glee.

    The goblin shaman cackled in manic joy as its magic burnt Veronica¡¯s shield, it slung its second bolt of eldritch flame this time directed at Jane. It splashed against her left side, burning her face and shoulder. The fire clung to her skin causing it to sizzle and bubble with blisters. Her screams joined the shrill wail of the eldritch flame and she dropped to the ground rolling to put out the horrific blue-green fire.

    The shaman''s cackles intensified and then were abruptly replaced with gurgles as one of Toby¡¯s black throwing knives lodged in its throat. Fritz saw Toby rush out of the now-shaken goblin horde, throwing more knives at the goblins that were guarding the shaman. With a dagger in each hand, Toby tackled the goblin spellcaster, landing on top of it and raining down Lacerate-infused stabs. As the shaman''s life was snuffed out so too were the eldritch flames.

    This was too much for the remaining goblins, there were maybe twenty left but after seeing the tides turn against them and their shaman fall to Toby¡¯s blades they fled. Screaming, scurrying away and returning from whence they came. Fritz furiously followed, cutting down any goblins he could catch. But however quick they were at attacking they were doubly so at escaping and his fish blade¡¯s edge only pierced two of their vile running backs, killing them with ease.

    The kills felt hollow as he watched Veronica and Naomi by Jane¡¯s side as she cried in agony, they forced a healing potion on her and she choked it down through her tears. The left side of her neck, her shoulder and her cheek starting just under her eye were a mass of burnt flesh and blisters. The burns looked terrible, but as the potion took effect the raw redness and the yellowing blisters reduced in severity, lightening and shrinking away into a patchwork of bright pink scars.

    Fritz approached along with Toby whose usual grim demeanour had taken a turn into an aimless morose rage. Toby looked upon Jane and winced when she met his eyes, her tears were still flowing but it seemed the pain had stopped. She looked rough, scarred, a bit like her skin was melted wax where the flames kissed her.

    She was never a beauty in the traditional sense but now she probably wasn¡¯t one in a non-traditional sense either. Fritz immediately scolded himself for such a cruel, callous thought.

    ¡°How bad is it?¡± She asked staring at Toby as he averted his gaze, the cloying desperation clear in her voice.

    ¡°It''s rough Jane. It looks painful, does it hurt?¡± Toby eventually replied. To angry glares of the young women.

    ¡°It still stings,¡± Jane began to weep, ¡°Are you leaving me? After we get out? Now that I¡¯m hideous?¡± she wailed.

    Veronica moved to embrace her but was beaten to the punch by Toby. He was on his knees holding her, and whispering into her ear. ¡°Of course not, Jane, we''ll get out of here and be free together, I¡¯m never leaving you.¡± Jane¡¯s cries subsided into heavy, heaving sobs and she clutched him close as he reassured her.

    Veronica and Naomi smiled at each other while watching the sweet display. Too sweet for Lynn it seemed as she rolled her eyes and strode off to find somewhere less weepy to be. Fritz had to agree with Lynn¡¯s sentiments and followed soon after to find Bert and make sure everyone else was alright.

    He walked to the sitting Sid, Greg and Bert. The fatigue was starting to set in, he¡¯d used at least three Stone Pits and the Arte Pugilist Technique for a few short minutes, while it saved his life it really took it out of him. He stumbled into a crouch when he reached the gathered group and looked them over.

    They were cut and bruised but none of them seemed to have any major injuries, they were applying their healer''s grease grateful for its stink rather than the pervasive rotting stench of the goblins and their foul blood.

    ¡°How is everyone?¡± Fritz asked as he slumped into a sitting position then hissed at the burning pain in his calf and on his back. ¡°I think someone is gonna have to rub some grease on my back if there¡¯s any left.¡±

    ¡°We all know that¡¯s Bert¡¯s job,¡± Greg rumbled pulling off his bulky, black helmet.

    ¡°Yes, yes, I¡¯ll get right on it once I¡¯ve greased myself,¡± Bert replied winking a wild amber eye at an aghast Sid.

    ¡°Do you not hear yourselves? You sound indecent,¡± Sid chided quietly, he pulled his scarlet scarf up to hide his reddening face.

    ¡°You get used to it,¡± Greg groused frowning his ugly frown. ¡°Those two are insane, just ignore them, I do and it don¡¯t effect me no more.¡±

    ¡°Anyways, what in the abyss did you do with my fish- with Quicksilver, you loosed it like a ballista bolt, how¡¯d you do that?¡±

    ¡°Dunno, just infused it with wind strike and it drew a lot more stamina than I thought it would, maybe it sponges up mana?¡± Sid shrugged and offered Bert the last of his healing grease to use on Fritz.

    ¡°Huh, maybe, it is made from a monster. I¡¯ll have to have it checked out when we get out of here,¡±

    Fritz agreed tiredly and turned his back so Bert could apply the cool, numbing grease.

    ¡°Ahhh, ooohhh,¡± Fritz moaned exaggeratedly when Bert started tending to the long cut on his back. Sid stood and strode away mumbling about having to collect his loosed arrows. Greg shook his head and wandered off obviously fed up with Fritz¡¯s over-the-top acting.

    ¡°Mmm yeah, that¡¯s some good grease,¡± Fritz continued moaning out his performance as the numbing took effect, not all of it being acting as his back unclenched when the pain gradually disappeared. Sid¡¯s stride increased in pace.

    ¡°Cut it out. They¡¯re gone now, say what you want to say,¡± Bert said in a low voice slapping him on the back hard with a clap and a greasy squelch.

    ¡°That was bad, really bad. I would¡¯ve died if not for you and Sid,¡± Fritz intoned as serious as the grave he wouldn''t have had if the goblins got him. ¡°This Spire is wrong, it¡¯s far too deadly. Traps and monsters, on the second floor?¡±

    ¡°I thought that we were having such a hard time because we¡¯re not equipped very well, we¡¯re dressed in rags and fish scales, using the bones of a monster as weapons. You think it''s more than that?¡± Bert asked soberly, walking around to Fritz¡¯s front to get a look at his calf wound.

    ¡°I do, I don¡¯t know why exactly but this Spire is cruel, I feel it in my bones. I have a profound sense of dread that it¡¯s only going to get harder, do you still intend to climb the rest of the way with me?¡± Fritz replied and stretched out his leg to let Bert get a better look at the triangular hole the mining pick left in his leg.

    Bert seemed to search Fritz¡¯s worried face, his own rugged features in a pensive mask. Bert¡¯s demeanour changed like the wind, an easy smile blew onto his face as he seemingly came to a decision. It was the same easy smile he wore when he and Fritz met for the first time three Tolls hence, almost a decade ago.

    ¡°If you¡¯re climbing I¡¯m climbing. You know that. No amount of danger or sense could ever stop the love typhoon,¡± Bert replied flippantly.

    ¡°I¡¯m being serious Bert, you could get hurt. Hurt as bad as Jane, or worse,¡± Fritz said gloomily.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious too, I¡¯m going with you. And speaking of Jane, she should take a look at this,¡± Bert poked at the flesh just beneath the triangular gouge in Fritz¡¯s calf, eliciting a soft ¡°ouch¡± from the man.

    ¡°If you insist,¡± Fritz¡¯s dark expression vanished into his charming grin. ¡°Carry me, Bert, I could not walk another step without great peril and pains!¡± Bert rolled his eyes and gestured to the group congregating around Jane. ¡°Get up Fritz, I¡¯ll lend you my shoulder.¡±

    Fritz stood and leant on Bert¡¯s offered shoulder and they shared a brotherly smile ¡°Thanks man, what would I do without you?¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t do anything, you¡¯d be dead,¡± Bert shrugged grinning wildly, jostling Fritz as he leant on him.

    ¡°Hey, it goes both ways, how many deadly scrapes have I saved you from exactly?¡± Fritz bickered grinning back.

    ¡°As many as you¡¯ve put me in,¡± Bert effortlessly retorted.

    Their easy camaraderie disguised as petty arguing carried on until they limped over to the crew in the centre of the room. The crew looked anxious, exhausted and frayed not just their clothing but their nerves too. They waited, wondering what they were going to do next. Fritz thought that the ambush had made them profoundly aware of all the time they had spent training in their temporary refuge.

    ¡°Jane, Fritz has a hole in his leg, are you up to fixing it?¡± Bert asked gently.

    ¡°Of course, lie down, Fritz,¡± Jane said brusquely, it seemed that she had been all cried out, drained of emotion and was now serious and solemn.

    Fritz lay down as Jane requested, then she cast her spell, he winced at the odd feeling of his flesh knitting together rapidly. It was a strange pain but he welcomed it, as though it was a punishment for not being strong enough. Yet.

    The crew sat, stood or in Fritz''s case lay in silence, waiting on the next plan, not exactly eager, but dully desperate to get moving, to get off this floor. Fritz looked them over again, over the last couple of days they really had filled out, skinniness replaced with lean corded muscle. In Bert, Greg and even Lynn¡¯s case, they were starting to look bulky giving them the look of young, well-fed soldiers.

    Under the muck and goblin blood, he knew the women had added some weight, the healthy weight of softness over their burgeoning muscles. Once they had cleaned up he knew they would come out of this Spire even more beautiful than they came in.

    They hadn¡¯t just changed bodily, these two terrible floors had been whittling away at their weakness and whetting their edges. They had learnt the Techniques there was little to be gained from settling down for any longer, there were no more choices in Fritz¡¯s mind.

    ¡°We move in five minutes, while the goblins are still fleeing. Our hiding place has been breached we can''t stay here, we¡¯re not giving them another chance to ambush us,¡± Fritz directed, his voice stern. He looked around to see any objections, to his surprise there were none, they didn¡¯t even look to Bert for his confirmation.

    ¡°Onwards and upwards then.¡±

 Chapter 16

    They were packed and ready before the five minutes were up. Fritz led the way, scouting the darkness ahead with his amber glowstone. The tunnels were labyrinthine, Fritz ran into abandoned goblin''s nests, still active pit and alarm traps and the occasional group of goblins. The crew took a grim satisfaction in ambushing these isolated groups and slaughtering them. Jane especially took a dark pleasure in running the goblins through with her fish rib spear and watching them gurgle and die.

    Minutes of skulking through the tunnels stretched into hours until, finally, Fritz spotted a sign they were getting close to the Stairway. A contrast of the orange and sickly yellow-green caught his eyes and he spotted the green stone marbled with blue hidden inside a crevice on the crumbling dirt wall.

    Excitement got the better of Fritz and he called out, ¡°We¡¯re on the right path, look it''s the Spire¡¯s marble!¡± His voice echoed far too loudly, he now realised, through the passage. The crew began to whisper hopefully, and Fritz sushed them and listened for the telltale giggling of goblins. Luck was on his side this time, no noise. He let out a held breath and continued onwards, searching for any sign of the green marble.

    After an hour or so of following one green patch of stone to another Fritz almost walked through the stairway by accident, hidden away in a small passage riddled with dark roots and softly falling dust. The dirt gave way to green marble stairs filling Fritz with deep relief and unbridled cheer, he cried out, ¡°Hark gallant climbers, the Stairway is upon us, your salvation is nigh!¡±

    There was a rustling then his whole crew was rushing past him, whooping in joy and running up the glorious green stairs. Fritz was last, just after Bert, they took the stairs two at a time and arrived in the Well Room.

    The Stairway eventually opened up into a huge dirt chamber lit with yellow light radiating from an enormous dark tree trunk studded with thousands of amber stones, each swirling and pulsing with its own strange light. The trunk reached from the ground to the high dirt ceiling and stood in a muddy pond that reflected the amber¡¯s light in new undulating patterns.

    Fritz and his crew were mesmerised for only a moment then they ran to the pond¡¯s edge, cupped the stagnant water into their mouths and drank deeply of the Power. Fritz looked around and saw everyone descending into their Sanctums so he decided to follow along and dive down as well, excited to see what kind of Abilities he¡¯d be offered.

    Trepidation filled him as the world spun and he fell into his eternally drizzling garden, to stand before his rain-soaked sapphire willow. He saw muddied soil beneath his feet and the many rippling puddles around him. He placed his hand upon the willow¡¯s cool, slick bark and felt at his choices.

    ---------

    Passive Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Quieted Steps

    Feet can slap, hooves must clop, boots will crunch, I do not.

    Decreases the amount of sound your steps produce to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Shadow, Sound.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    You attempted to be stealthy and were successful more often than not.

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    Increases your aptitude in finding traps or potentially dangerous natural obstacles to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You fell into a trap.

    You discovered and disarmed many traps.

    You discovered a Treasure Chest.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    ---

    Vital Strikes

    Hammers find joints, blades find veins, claws find flaws.

    Strikes and spells that damage vulnerabilities or vulnerable points have their damage increased to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Death.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have killed a goblin by damaging its vulnerable points more often than not.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz near salivated at the damage increase of Vital Strikes and was intrigued at the utility of Quieted Steps.

    Damage increases, Fritz knew, were rare and were almost always picked, Vital Strikes would be useful to anyone save maybe a healer, even then they might get an evolution that transformed the damage into healing, so it still might be picked. There wasn¡¯t much else to the Ability, a common trait of Passive Abilities as they were there to support your Path not define it. Still, more damage was more damage.

    Quieted Steps, however, would almost eliminate one of the ways to give oneself away while being sneaky, combined with a visual stealth ability could render you almost undetectable to monsters, or people, without high Perception. Even without such an Ability he had heard rumours of evolutions that could change what was quieted such as knives, bolts or arrows. A terrifying thought.

    Fritz sighed, he knew which one he had to pick, while more damage and better stealth were great choices for him, Trap Sense was there among the choices smugly taunting him. Any other time he would have been ecstatic that Trap Sense was a choice. It was one of the sense Abilities Guide¡¯s valued highly and thus it was one that was on Fritz¡¯s instant pick list.

    But Vital Strikes, he whined inwardly.

    Trap Sense seemed the most boring of the Abilities but he knew it was by far the best for himself and his Path. It¡¯s better to be alive, than to do more damage to weak points he reasoned. Traps were one of the greatest dangers in the Spires, both from the constant toll on the attention of the climbers and the occasional injury or even in the worst cases death. He steadied himself inwardly as the memory of falling into that first pit rushed through him. He was resolved in that instant and chose.

    Again his Sanctum span, his willow changed subtly though he knew not how, he only knew more keenly where the deep puddles lay and how stepping into one had the potential to down.

    Now for the Attribute points, it seemed that most of his mistakes had been due to not seeing or not sensing something in time so he put all three of his unaligned attributes into Perception. ¡®Spire Readout¡¯ he thought at his Sanctum. The glyphs lit up as usual and he read their glowing silver lines.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 2

    Path: ---

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 3

    Endurance: 3

    Perception: 12

    Focus: 3

    Memory: 3

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Activated 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Path 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    He looked through his spire sheet realising he forgot all about attaining his second Technique during the goblin¡¯s ambush. He quickly focused on its strange entry, well not much stranger than the rest of the Abilities descriptions he conceded. Still, he reached out and found its description.

    ---------

    Technique

    ---------

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    Gives minor benefits to Strength and Agility of unarmed strikes, dodges and grapples.

    Abilities used by unarmed attacks are reduced in cost.

    These benefits increase when you are within the reach of your opponent.

    These benefits increase when unarmed or unarmoured.

    These benefits significantly increase when unarmed and unarmoured.

    Abilities gained and Evolved are more likely to be influenced with these effects.

    ---

    You read, practised and understood the Techniques in The Brotherhood Escantor¡¯s: Arte Pugilist, Prowess Martial, Treatise Tactical.

    ---

    ---------

    Definitely a mad-mans fighting style, bonuses when up close and when wearing nothing to protect you? It''s like the Brotherhood Escantor are trying to get you killed. He was a little annoyed he had to learn the Technique and had spent so much time doing so as he wouldn¡¯t be going without a weapon or armour if he could help it. But it did save his life, he recognised that and that Sid had been right about learning both the techniques, he just hoped it wouldn¡¯t influence his Abilities too much.

    Well enough dawdling, he took one last quick look around his rainy Sanctum, pat his willow one last time then willed himself out.

    When he came to and the world stopped spinning, he nudged Bert who smiled at him sheepishly as he turned to face him. ¡°I uh I picked almost immediately,¡± Bert confessed.

    ¡°Oh, so did I,¡± Fritz slapped his forehead, ¡°I got too excited and forgot to consult you all, here I go again being an idiot,¡± he admonished himself.

    The rest of the crew looked equally as sheepish and furtive as Bert as they avoided each other''s gazes. Fritz came to a sudden conclusion based on their behaviour and asked ¡°Did everyone just go ahead and pick their passive without bothering to check with the crew?¡±

    No one spoke up but everyone looked guilty to Fritz¡¯s enhanced senses, he sighed and spoke again, ¡°Let me rephrase that, who here still has a selection to make?¡±

    No one answered. ¡°Since we all made this same mistake how about we let bygones be bygones and forgive ourselves, just this once,¡± Fritz suggested cheerfully. The comment was accepted wholeheartedly and people began to breathe easy.

    ¡°Let''s go around the group and explain what we selected, starting with...¡± Bert made a sham of selecting someone at random and just pointed straight at Fritz¡¯s chest, ¡°Fritz.¡±

    The crew smiled and laughed with a few giggles thrown in, the stress was melting away from them by the second after leaving the abyss that was the goblin mine floor.

    Fritz smiled as and boldly proclaimed his new passive Ability, ¡°Behold, Ladies, Gentleman and those in between or outside. I have selected the mighty Trap Sense Ability. It gives me the bold capacity to, you guessed it, sense traps. I also aligned my three Attribute points into Perception, you may now applaud, weep and worship me as your new King.¡±

    There actually was a spattering of applause a low whistle from Sid, and Bert punched the air in solidarity.

    ¡°Nice one,¡± Sid commented. ¡°That¡¯ll make Trap Rooms a damn breeze.¡± He then scowled a little remembering the goblins, ¡°As long as there¡¯s not monsters.¡±

    ¡°What did you choose Sid?¡± Bert encouraged him to continue.

    ¡°I got an Ability called Fleet, makes me quicker on my feet, and I put my points into Agility,¡± Sid explained then looked to the next person in the crew, Toby.

    He smirked darkly, ¡°Exsanguinator, increases bleeding caused by cuts I inflict, it will work well with Lacerate, I also put my points into Agility.¡±

    ¡°Very nice,¡± Fritz said earnestly, and a tad enviously.

    ¡°I took Tough skin,¡± Bert chimed in holding up his arm and showing off his bruised, battered and sliced-up fist. ¡°It will hopefully stop my skin from breaking on the enemy when I punch them.¡±

    ¡°You could just not punch them,¡± Veronica observed, getting an aghast stare from both Bert and Lynn.

    ¡°Or keep being crazy,¡± She conceded wrapping an arm around Lynn¡¯s waist and laying her head on Lynn¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I took Smooth Skin by the way, seems to make you harder to strike cleanly, among other benefits. I put my points into Endurance.¡±

    Lynn rubbed her hand over Veronica¡¯s hand on her waist and nodded appreciatively ¡°Very smooth, but it¡¯s always been like silk. I took Tough Skin just like Bert, similar reasons,¡± She added gesturing to a scabbed over cut on her leg.

    Fritz gave a sympathetic smile then gave Jane a questioning eyebrow raise, turning the crew''s attention to her.

    ¡°Fire Resistance, Endurance,¡± she said icily through tightly pursed lips. Fritz winced, while the crew glared daggers at him for daring to make Jane say something so obviously painful. Like he knew what she¡¯d chosen.

    Bert shook his head slowly, hiding a small smile on his face. ¡°Guess Trap Sense doesn''t work on social traps, you stepped right into that one,¡± he whispered to Fritz.

    ¡°What about you Greg? Get something good?¡± Bert changed the subject, obviously taking pity on Fritz for his thoughtlessness.

    ¡°Got something called Bulky, makes me stronger, then I put all my points into strength,¡± Greg shrugged grinning smugly. He did look bulkier, if only slightly, he would probably be built like a brick outhouse in a month, or maybe even a week, with his current pace of growth.

    ¡°Ah, Greg and his strength, you¡¯ll be a veritable bull when we get out of here, and not in just the physical ways,¡± Fritz attempted to compliment.

    Greg harrumphed then chose to stay silent, not rising to the bait.

    ¡°And last but not least,¡± Fritz continued, not letting silence smother the conversation again. ¡°Naomi, what mystic art did you unlock?¡±

    She looked embarrassed about being put on the spot, maybe she was shy?

    ¡°I chose Herb Sense, it will help me find plants with magical or medical properties,¡± She said in a mostly steady voice.

    ¡°Poisons too?¡± Asked Toby eagerly as his hand absently wandered to one of the last of his blight-hound fangs.

    ¡°Poisons too,¡± Naomi agreed giving a reserved nod. ¡°Oh, and I aligned more Agility.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s everyone, good choices guys. I¡¯m glad we all stayed true to our goals and strengths. Now for some rest,¡± Fritz said adjourning the ¡®crew council¡¯.

    The crew split into their respective cliques. Naomi, Veronica, Lynn and Sid found a spot by the dirt wall away from the mesmerising pond. While Toby and Jane found an alcove to do some canoodling, or at least that¡¯s what the others suspected as they gave the pair some much-deserved privacy.

    Bert, Greg and Fritz strolled to investigate the Doors that Fritz would be choosing from.

    Fritz felt a dull shivering, or was in tingling, in the back of his mind. He couldn¡¯t quite place the feeling but he just knew he was missing something about the room. He scanned the dirt walls, ceiling and gleaming, glowing tree. His mind''s eye kept being drawn to the pond, but he saw nothing wrong with it save the reflected, swirling, hypnotic light.

    He put the feeling out of his mind and pulled his attention to the Doors cut into the crumbling dirt. As he approached the Doors he took a detour, deciding to make for Greg instead.

    Greg grunted in way of greeting when Fritz stood before him. Fritz replied with an amiable nod, patted down his clothing and checked his pockets. As the quiet stretched on Fritz coughed, clearing his throat then spoke, ¡°Thanks for coming back for me.¡±

    Greg merely grunted, so Fritz continued, ¡°Back in the ambush, you saved me, I just wanted to thank you. I know we don¡¯t get along, but I won''t forget that.¡±

    Greg grunted and getting nothing more from the man''s face and demeanour he turned to leave when Greg rumbled, ¡°We don¡¯t get along cause I don¡¯t like you Fritz, it took me saving your life for you to come talk to me without wanting something from me. You¡¯re a selfish prick, Bert¡¯s little leech and I don¡¯t see that changing, so piss off would you.¡±

    Fritz was startled and was about to protest, but Greg just glared him down, spat to the side, then walked away, ending their talk absolutely. He stood there dumbfounded, fists clenching hard enough to hurt. Was that true, had he really never talked to Greg without an agenda? He baulked at the idea, Fritz searched his memories for any moment that he had a friendly talk with Greg when he didn¡¯t have to and came up empty.

    How many of his friendships were coloured like this? He wondered. That hollowness in his centre started to pull on him, begging for its nothingness to be seen, to have its emptiness heard. He pushed away the dark, furious thoughts, now was not the time for vicious introspection. Now was time to look at some Doors. Yeah, that¡¯d get his mind off stupid, dumb Greg, he wouldn¡¯t even know a friend if they hit him on his thick, ogre skull. Which is what I should do, later.

    Fritz stomped towards the doors, stopping before them in a huff then looking them over with his precise senses.

    One was a dark grey natural stone circle, it had a pocked, wavy ramp of that same dark stone, a scent of iron stagnated by its entrance. The scent of iron is worrying as it could be blood, but there¡¯s not much to go on here.

    The next Door was of intricately carved blue ice, sculpted into an elegant arch. As Fritz looked closer he could see fine white lines climbing like vines, blossoming like flowers worked into its gleaming cold surface. The breeze from this Door burrowed into the bone with gnawing cold, causing Fritz to shiver and step away immediately. Too cold, no way we can survive that freezing wind, not as we are now.

    The last Door was familiar, being almost identical to the ancient stone-bricked Door on the first floor¡¯s Well Room. It gave Fritz a deeply ominous feeling, sweat beaded on his brow and he almost retched from the smell of rot, more intense than the last time. Or maybe it''s just my better perception, either way, this Door gives me the creeps and undead are still to be avoided.

    He stepped away from the Doors and was annoyed again by that dull tingling in the back of his head. What is it? He searched again, his eyes being drawn to the pond. Was the pond¡¯s shore always so close?

    The room is filling up! The thought hit Fritz like a hammer blow.

    ¡°The Well Room has a time limit!¡± He yelled out, he turned and ran to Bert and Greg, who was staring at him like he had just gone crazy, or crazier really. ¡°Bert, Greg gather everyone, the room is filling with water, we have to get out now!¡±

    They started to run at his command and soon the crew had gathered up, only Jane and Toby being in much disarray. The others shared knowing, teasing smiles but thankfully said nothing.

    ¡°The ponds expanding, at this rate we have around ten minutes to get ready and get out,¡± Fritz explained clearly now that the crew was together. He heard a splash and a wave of muddy water splashed against his ankle, ¡°Make that five minutes,¡± He amended hastily.

    ¡°This Door¡± Fritz pointed at the dark stone circle ¡°Ice Door is too cold and the other probably has undead, this one looks odd but has no telltale signs of danger save the smell of iron. Which is most likely only old blood.¡±

    They looked at each other determination forging their resolve from their bonds formed in and out of battle. They teamed up quickly into their formations and passed into the stone circle. Upwards, ever upwards.

 Chapter 17

    Fritz¡¯s boots scraped against the gritty stone as he ran up the spiralling ramp. He saw the exit. Bright white light poured from the next floor onto the ramp almost blinding him. He kept running forward embracing the cleanness, the untinted normalcy, of the light as it illuminated his face.

    As he ran he spotted a dark figure standing before him, silhouetted against the light. He stopped in his tracks. Recognising the figure as human, or human adjacent, Fritz whispered over his shoulder to his crew, ¡°Someone ahead, be ready for a fight.¡±

    Bert signalled an affirmative then Fritz called out to the light-obscured figure, ¡°Hey, who¡¯s there? we don¡¯t want any trouble.¡±

    ¡°Spire''s spite. It¡¯s Fritz and his crew. He wants to know who¡¯s up here, what should I tell him Steve?¡± The dark shadow softly hissed to someone beyond the light.

    ¡°I heard him, let them up and keep your eyes wide,¡± Steve replied in a whisper that Fritz could only just catch with his sensitive hearing.

    ¡°Come on up,¡± the shadowed man moved to the side and out of the passageway.

    Fritz motioned his crew forward, ¡°Steve¡¯s crew, keep your weapons ready, they might look to fight.¡±

    Fritz strode up and through the entrance shielding his eyes from the intensifying light, his eyes adjusted quickly, drinking in this new view. He strode into an enormous cavern of pocked and cratered stone. Jagged stone pillars stood, like some long-dead leviathan''s teeth, scattered across the dark plain of shattered rocks. The bright light was beaming from a shining white crystal hanging like a great upside-down pyramid from the cavern¡¯s smooth roof.

    He was still gawking as the rest of his crew joined him, also shielding their eyes from the radiance. It seemed to take them longer to acclimate to the clear light, Another perk of the Perception Attribute?

    A cough alerted Fritz to the group of men standing to his left, he took in their weary faces, ragged appearances and some shining new equipment. Steve was there at the forefront, wielding at least two objects that were obvious Spire Treasures; a breastplate polished to a silver sheen and a long curved knife of carved bone held loosely in his hand.

    There was a subtle threat in both his stance and eyes, so Fritz decided to start off the conversation cordially. ¡°Steal that breastplate from a prince? I must say, with all undue respect, it doesn¡¯t suit you. It clashes with the whole drowned rodent aesthetic you naturally embody.¡±

    Steve¡¯s beady black eyes burned like coals, ¡°Piss off, Fritz, let your boss do the talking.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s taking in the sights, so for now how about you stay over on your side and we¡¯ll stay on ours, then no one has to get cut to ribbons.¡± Fritz rolled his wrist, tracing the point of his fish blade in a small circle.

    Steve scoffed, spun his bone knife in his palm, but made no move to charge Fritz. The rest of Steve¡¯s group, eight in total including Steve, either avoided meeting Fritz¡¯s eyes or glared at him as Steve did, with about as much hate. What did I ever do to them?

    Fritz turned and stared out at the scarred stone plain while keeping Steve in his peripherals. He noticed a small disturbance in his vision, a subtle distortion of the light that lay between them and the rest of the floor. Fritz frowned slightly, tilted his head and squinted, Trap Sense wasn¡¯t warning him that it was dangerous. It became clear, as he moved, that they were all enclosed by a translucent bubble.

    Bert and the other''s eyes finally adjusted to the light and they gawked at the cavern and crystal pyramid. Fritz let them revel in their wonder for some moments then caught Bert¡¯s attention with a short high-to-low whistle, an uncanny imitation of a storm hawk''s cry. Startled by the sudden noise, Bert turned gave Fritz a questioning raised eyebrow, spotted Steve and his crew behind him then slowly sauntered up to Fritz.

    ¡°They don''t want to talk to me for some reason,¡± Fritz explained in a low voice, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. ¡°Plus there¡¯s something up, there¡¯s an almost invisible dome surrounding us, you might want to ask them about it.¡±

    Bert nodded and strode forward confidently to talk to Steve, Fritz decided to follow, standing behind and to the right of Bert.

    ¡°Steve, I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯ve survived so far,¡± Bert greeted the jumpy man calmly. ¡°What''s with the dome?¡±

    Steve glared at Bert though not nearly as hard as he would have at Fritz and replied, ¡°Dunno we got here an hour ago and decided to walk to some of those rocks,¡± he pointed at the closest of the stone teeth. ¡°But something stopped us, we couldn¡¯t push through whatever invisible wall there is around us.¡±

    ¡°Did you try magic?¡± Bert asked amiably while looking around mildly.

    ¡°Of course we did,¡± Steve spat, ¡°Nothin¡¯ worked.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re stuck?¡± Bert asked right before a discordant blast from what could have been a monstrous fog-horn sounded from the direction of the pyramid.

    Everyone stood still, as after the blast ended something began speaking to them. It wasn¡¯t speaking into his ears Fritz knew, it was projecting into his Sanctum and he could feel its words, dripping with cruelty, oozing through his being and slathering the insides of his skull with its insidious intent.

    ¡°Be welcomed climbers, I have enjoyed watching your struggles. The Meritocratic Conditions require that this floor have an explanation. There are six Doors at the opposite end of this floor, they can only be entered once and by one person. If two people enter one of those Doors, only one can climb. One door, one climber. Decide your own fates, take what you can and don¡¯t look back.¡±

    The discordant horn sounded again and the terrible presence was gone from his Sanctum. He looked around wildly for the speaker, finding nothing new until he noticed the translucent dome ripple. Its surface swirled with colour like a soap bubble. The scintillating light danced for a moment then winked out of existence.

    The two crews looked at each other then between themselves, one of Steve¡¯s crew approached where the dome had been then ran a hand through the space, meeting no resistance. They stood still for a moment and watched. Then there was chaos.

    One of Steve''s crew fired off a bolt of flame, another threw a spear straight at Fritz. Sid fired off a wind-infused arrow that slammed into Steve¡¯s shining silver chest plate, shattering in the process and spraying his team with splinters. Steve was knocked off his feet by the blast and lay reeling on his back.

    Fritz caught the spear on his shield, deflecting it onto the ground, then Bert was on top of Steve and yelling, ¡°Truce! Truce! Or I pulp Steve¡¯s head.¡± He held Steve¡¯s neck with one hand and threatened him with raised a fist.

    ¡°Stop, stop,¡± Steve exhaled, while trying to catch his breath. They stopped, sharing anxious glances.

    Fritz spotted Steve¡¯s right hand and bone dagger coil with shadows. Fritz was too slow to act, he called out a warning, ¡°Bert, right hand!¡± It was too late, far too late. Steve¡¯s dagger slithered out, striking like an eel with two quick stabs, one in the ribs and one in the gut. Punching straight through his scale shirt. A third stab was coming but Bert rolled off of Steve and to the side, springing up onto his feet unsteadily.

    Steve flipped backwards and back onto his feet in a surprising show of acrobatics, took a quick assessment of Bert¡¯s wounds, scowled and feinted a rush towards him. Then he spun and sprinted away heading for the closest stone pillar across the plains. The rest of his crew joined him running into to maze of rock teeth.

    Fritz saw Sid loosing arrows at their running backs, catching one in the shoulder and another in the leg. The shoulder wound looked superficial, the arrow had bounced off armour then clattered to the ground.

    Sid flinched when the man screamed in pain, and he was suddenly reminded he was hitting people not monsters. He rolled his shoulders and his face soon settled into a frown. Fritz ran to Bert''s side as he stumbled to his knees, then fell onto his back. Fritz called out to Jane, who along with Toby was looking dubiously at the running backs of Steve¡¯s crew, ¡°Bert¡¯s hurt! Jane, get over here and heal him!¡±

    She looked conflicted but ran to Bert¡¯s side, the pale green threads snaked from her hands sewing the two puncture wounds closed. The threads held the wounds closed for a moment then faded, but the gouges remained unclosed and bleeding freely. ¡°It''s not working!¡± Fritz said in an accusatory growl.

    ¡°I see that,¡± Jane replied through clenched teeth, she drank down a stamina potion and the threads slithered through the wounds again attempting to knit the flesh together. Again they failed. She went to pull out another potion, but Toby grabbed her arm and she turned looking into his dark expression.

    He shook his head and shrugged a shoulder at the rocky plain and the running backs of Greg, Veronica, Naomi and Lynn. Greg was in front, right on the tail of the retreating Steve. Veronica¡¯s group followed behind around forty feet away. Whether they where chasing or simply fleeing to the doors he couldn''t tell. Though his mind whispered that they were leaving them behind. Without Bert, why would they stay?

    Fritz scowled and clenched his fists, fury bubbling in his gut.

    ¡°Go. Leave me,¡± Bert ordered with a slight harshness in his breath.

    ¡°No,¡± Fritz said as Jane and Toby muttered apologies, tears forming in their eyes then turned their backs and fled, leaving Fritz, Sid and Bert. So much for being a crew.

    Bert looked between Fritz, Jane, Toby and surprisingly Sid, reading the dread and uncertainty on their faces. He spoke again, a bubble of blood forming in the corner of his mouth, ¡°The dagger, Fritz, it¡¯s magic, cursed.¡±

    Fritz understood almost immediately, the dagger may indeed have a curse or something equally terrible, maybe he could use it to cancel the magic and let Bert heal. To get it he¡¯d have to take it, and to take it he¡¯d have to leave Bert to fend for himself for a time.

    Bert could obviously see the indecision on Fritz¡¯s face because he gave him a weak punch in the shoulder, ¡°Go. No time. Six doors.¡±

    The words solidified Fritz with a grim resolve, his hand clasped fast on his fish blade¡¯s hilt.

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    Bert smiled sadly up at him but didn¡¯t speak, shooing him with a hand gesture. Fritz gave the bleeding man his most confident smile, ¡°I¡¯ll be back for you, I promise.¡± Bert just looked away and shook his head muttering, ¡°I know, you idiot.¡±

    Sid threw some torn cloth strips to Bert, ¡°Put pressure on the wounds, use these, there¡¯s still some grease in this too.¡± Sid added the small tin of healing grease to the pile on Bert¡¯s chest.

    Fritz looked out across the plain spotting the glittering breastplate of Steve yards away but not as far away as he¡¯d expected. The anger inside him boiled and bubbled, he unslung his shield and pack feeling it would just slow him down.

    He turned to Bert, ¡°Keep these safe would you, I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    ¡°You better, I¡¯ll haunt the piss out of you if you let me die here,¡± Bert groaned out giving a Fritz a pained grin.

    Fritz embraced the heat of his anger turned and ran, Sid followed on his heels then caught up running close beside him.

    As he sprinted towards his mark he realised why Steve wasn¡¯t as far away as he had expected. The shattered, cratered plain was riddled with fissures and uneven stone, its treacherous footing was dangerous to run on without care. Even as the thought struck him he saw one of Steve¡¯s crew, the man with an arrow in his calf, slip, trip and fall.

    The fallen man raised his close-shaved head, staggered up slowly and called out for help from his friends. Only one ran back to help, a man with long dark hair, a too-long face and wearing a leather vest and wooden shield much like the ones Fritz¡¯s group had found. He pointed a well-made broadsword at a charging Greg and yelled at him to halt. Greg started spinning his skull flail, its eerie groan was joined by Greg¡¯s echoing war cry blending together into a truly frightening dirge.

    The long-haired man raised his shield in anticipation, whether he expected to block then counter or merely cover his friends back from the flail strike with his own body, who could say. What could be said is that Greg was strong and his strike was stronger.

    Greg swung his weapon in a mighty arc, the black cracks of Bone Shattering Blow cascaded over the skull-flail at the last second before it impacted the man''s shield. The shield exploded, and the man behind it was shattered and flung bodily into the man he was trying to rescue. The broken body knocked the ¡®rescued¡¯ man down. The broken man collapsed into a boneless heap on top of him leaving him pinned and helpless as Greg started spinning his skull-flail.

    The shaven man got an arm free from under the weight of his friend''s flesh, thrusting it up at Greg and yelling out, ¡°Firebolt!¡± A spark of orange flame appeared at the centre of his palm then expanded to the size of an egg and shot towards Greg. The bolt caught Greg on his armoured chest, splashing harmlessly off the glittering scales and falling to the ground in a shower of embers. You don¡¯t have to shout the name of your Ability, idiot.

    The skull-flail groaned for a moment, the shaven man¡¯s eyes filled with a pleading terror, then there was a terrible crack as the skull-flail struck. Fritz had never seen someone''s head explode and he never wanted to see it again. The poor man''s skull burst like an overripe melon spilling bright blood and brain matter onto the dark stone and pooling into the crater in which he¡¯d had lost his footing.

    Greg was breathing hard but continued his rush to the Doors, he barely looked around for danger he just kept running forward and into the first thicket of pillars. Fritz reminded himself to really try and make amends with Greg later, he didn¡¯t want to be on that man''s bad side, plus he felt bad for how he¡¯d treated him before, really he did.

    Fritz ran, trying to catch up with the other groups, he found his Perception and Agility Attributes were helping him pick out the best path. Trap Sense also seemed to be working in tandem with his ¡®Observations¡¯ Technique warning him with a low hum before he chose a perilous place to put his feet, allowing him to dodge the harmful hidden fissures. With his advantages he found himself steadily gaining on his fleeing friends and foes.

    Veronica, Lynn and Naomi reached then disappeared into the stone teeth, trailing behind Greg on his ruinous road. Fritz could hear the clashing of arms, the casting of Abilities and the warning groan of Greg¡¯s flail. The cracks, thumps and clattering rattled through the pillars, as they fought just out of Fritz¡¯s sight.

    When he reached the pillars he slipped between them darting in and around their surprisingly sharp stone. He moved quickly to join the fray, to find Steve and take his dagger, he had to save Bert. He followed the sounds of struggle hoping that he could catch Steve unawares while he fought. Instead, he came across Veronica, Lynn and Naomi caught in an ambush, they were back-to-back shields raised, and fists stoned in the case of Lynn. Fritz quickly hid, not wanting to be seen by the others lest they draw him into an unwinnable battle. It felt wrong, but he watched and waited, ready to spring in when he could turn the tide. If he could turn the tide.

    Surrounding the women were Steve¡¯s remaining crew, including Steve himself leading the assault. The women were enduring diligently, deflecting stones from slings, or shards of ice slung by a spellcaster, the men pressed forward after a failed salvo of spells and stones. Outnumbered and overwhelmed Lynn stuck out viciously, slipping a blade, denting a shield and repelling the swordsman behind it.

    While stepping back to keep their formation steady she caught a short sword to the thigh from another grim blonde man beside her. She let out a grunt of pain grit her teeth and pummelled his ribs with a quick trio of jabs, he staggered back pulling his blade free of her flesh with a wrench. The wound was shallower than it had any right to be but still her blood flowed out in a steady trickle.

    They were being pressed from all sides, Veronica and Naomi held their shields steady to protect each other''s flanks. Naomi slashed her fin blade in swift erratic arcs, forcing those without armour or shield to step back from the glittering sliver edge. She cut a couple of them as they approached again, long shallow cuts that bled fiercely, but eventually pushing through the onslaught they seized her flailing arm and stopped her slicing flurry as they yanked the blade from her hand.

    They jerked her shield arm down, a powerfully built man with short greasy locks of brown hair pulled her into a bear hug, pinning her arms. She struggled and screamed until the breath was squeezed out of her by the man''s vice-like embrace. As she struggled for breath the man grinned with ill intent slinking behind his hungry grey eyes.

    Once Naomi was restrained and helpless Steve¡¯s crew pressed into the gap in the girl¡¯s formation.

    Veronica¡¯s shield was ripped from her arm and she was dragged from the protection of Lynn by Steve and two of his bulkier crew. Her fin blade glanced against his silver breastplate and in response Steve struck down onto her arm with the hilt of his dagger, she gasped in pain and the fin fell from her shaking hand. He grabbed her by her red hair with his free hand and dragged her further away from the safety of Lynn¡¯s fists.

    She sunk her teeth into his arm shook her off and pushed her into the waiting arms of one of his crew, who caught her from behind in a solid headlock.

    ¡°Let me go,¡± Veronica screamed uselessly as she twisted and writhed with all her might, but discovered she couldn¡¯t break free of the man''s powerful arm. He laughed, seemingly revelling in her struggle.

    It seemed that Steve¡¯s crew favoured aligning their Attribute points to Strength, leaving them well able to overpower someone, especially someone with low strength; like Naomi, Veronica or Fritz for that matter, once they had caught them.

    Lynn growled and sprung at the man holding Veronica, but stumbled on her wounded leg and was rushed, grabbed and struck by the three men surrounding her. With one man grasping onto each arm the third brought down a copper hammer onto her head with a nauseating thunk. She slumped, her limp body held up by the men holding her arms. She stared out dazedly not comprehending her plight.

    ¡°Please, we¡¯ll do anything you say, just don¡¯t hurt us,¡± Veronica pleaded her demeanour quickly changing from a shrieking, struggling fury to a demure, compliant and scared young woman. She looked up at Steve with her beautiful dark doe eyes, ¡°Please, anything, we won¡¯t fight,¡± she almost whispered, leaving the ¡®anything¡¯ up to the men¡¯s overactive, and from the eager grins on their faces lustful, imagination.

    Steve sneered at her and near spat in her face, ¡°Only six doors and I¡¯m going through. I ain¡¯t wasting my time with some of Tallie¡¯s sluts.¡± Veronica flinched away from both the spit and the bitter edge to his words.

    ¡°Coming with me boys, are you willing to risk not getting a Door?¡± Steve asked, a hard, exasperated tone to his voice.

    ¡°Go on ahead, Steve, if you''re really afraid that what''s left of Bert¡¯s crew could take us. I¡¯m gonna have some fun, ain¡¯t nothing wrong with winding down. We¡¯re gonna have to leave them here to die anyways might as well enjoy ourselves before we climb,¡± the dark-haired man holding Veronica¡¯s neck explained callously.

    ¡°Fine, stay here and die for I care, but don¡¯t complain to me when you catch whatever diseases they carry,¡± Steve rebutted, agitation glinting in his beady eyes.

    "Hah, so scared even though we''ve already taken care of half of them," the man retorted. "We''ve already won. Those sneaks are likely hiding, not running for the doors. We have the time to enjoy ourselves."

    "You''re idiots," Steve said flatly. "This ain''t worth your lives."

    "It won''t come to that. We''ll be quick," the man said with confidence.

    "Of course you will be," Veronica muttered, and the man scowled.

    Steve shook his head, and he turned to leave, stepping over a sprawled body Fritz had previously not noticed in the chaos. A body wearing glittering scales. Fritz''s stomach lurched at the sight of the figure, but he buried the feeling as soon as it came. He was in peril at the moment and needed a clear head, he couldn¡¯t dwell on the body and the slowly expanding puddle of blood surrounding it.

    ¡°You coming boys?¡± Steve called back as he started to stride away, through the blood and leaving scarlet boot prints where stepped, a brutal black helmet tucked under his arm. The two of his crew that stood alert and watching the argument looked over the captured women and the three men holding them.

    One shook his head at the scene, his face twisted in disgust and left following Steve his copper hammer slung over his shoulders. The other looked as if he was going to challenge the captors but at a glare from the other men, he thought better of it, lowered his head and slunk away following Steve.

    ¡°Now that they¡¯re gone, how about we have some fun?¡± The dark-haired man asked pulling Veronica closer to him and pawing at her tunic. Fritz could see tears beginning to form in her eyes, but he turned his gaze away as a spark of righteous anger flared and a desire to act the hero threatened to push him to fight.

    He embraced the brutal, cold calculation that told him he had to follow Steve to get the dagger. He couldn¡¯t wait around or waste the precious time Bert had left. In fact taking Steve¡¯s dagger would be easier now with half of his crew ¡®distracted.¡¯ With terrible difficulty and a heavy revulsion sinking into his gut, he made to leave, there was nothing he could do here.

    Fritz¡¯s arm was caught by a tight grip and Sid hissed, ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°I have to save Bert,¡± He growled his low voice laced with that revulsion he was feeling both at the situation and himself. He yanked his arm away and made to turn, again Sid grasped him this time by the wrist.

    ¡°You promised them, you gave your word, Fritz,¡± Sid reminded in low tones, his blue eyes burning with a rising fury. Sid¡¯s grip on Fritz''s wrist tightened, ¡°If you won''t hold to it I¡¯ll make you hold to it.¡±

    Fritz met the burning glare with a steely one of his own. His need to save Bert warred with his long-suppressed sense of honour and justice. He held the glare until he could feel the steel within his eyes begin to melt, and he looked away. He didn¡¯t know how he could go on without Bert but he knew he couldn''t live with himself if he left the women to their fate. Especially after they followed him up to this floor because he promised their safety.

    They were here because of him and Bert would hate him if he ever found out Fritz had traded their lives for his. This thought pushed Fritz to his decision, as selfish as it was he¡¯d rather an alive Bert that hated him than a dead one. He prepared to break Sid¡¯s hold on him and to sprint after Steve when he heard a low sob from Naomi.

    The sob reminded him of his younger sister¡¯s. When he cradled her and his bawling brother after the death, no, the murder of their mother.

    It was just an excuse in the end, he didn¡¯t want to leave them to the predations of these scum. The sobbing had rekindled the desire to save and protect that he had to douse with the cold calculation of survival, when he was out there in the gutters of the Sunken Ring. He had learnt the lesson well in those first few months out of the orphanage.

    Not to speak up, having to look away, lest you be targeted instead. Standing up to someone strong or well connected could earn you more than a beating and Fritz had the scars to prove it.

    However, those unspoken rules didn¡¯t apply here, they had no friends to back them up and they were of the same level, so what if they were better equipped and prioritised their combat Attributes. It was a more fair fight than many he had picked outside of the Spire.

    Fritz let his will bend, freeing a blaze of emotion, his embraced his anger and he met Sid¡¯s eyes again with embers of rage instead of the cold pragmatism of steel in his unwavering gaze.

    ¡°Fine, let¡¯s kill them quick then,¡± Fritz stated and a terrible smile stretched across his face.

 Chapter 18

    Fritz leapt out from behind the stone pillar he had been using to keep out of sight.

    He was loath to do so, as sneaking around and stabbing the monstrous men in the back was likely to lead to better prospects. For him, but not the subdued women. For them every moment might be a new pain. The men began to grin and leer, keeping their weapons in their fists but reaching out with their free hands to feel fair flesh with their foul fingers. They aimed to touch, to paw at, the ladies. Fritz felt his chest burn.

    ¡°Unhand those fair maidens! They are under my protection, the shield of my honour and the sanctuary of my vow!¡± He yelled out in challenge. The distracted men stopped their manhandling of the women they had captured and turned to look at the interloper who dared to defy them and their cruel desires.

    They scowled in unison, but stopped in their pathetic grasping.

    ¡°Leave it be, Fritz, or you¡¯ll suffer worse than Bert got,¡± A man with lank pale yellow hair shouted back, shaking a tearful, but still standing, Naomi and bringing up his sword to point at Fritz.

    ¡°I cannot, justice demands my intervention. Free the women or face Quicksilver cowards!¡± Fritz gallantly proclaimed flourishing his fish blade and taking a couple of cautious steps toward the man.

    The scarred man that was looming over Lynn stopped pulling at her shirt and took out his axe from its belt loop. He started to walk in a circle around Fritz, holding his shield loosely, and moving to flank him. The dark-haired man holding Veronica extended an arm, pointed his palm at Fritz, and prepared a spell.

    Fritz tried to keep the scarred circling man in his peripheral vision while also keeping an eye on the spell caster holding Veronica as a human shield.

    It was subtle but Fritz saw a roiling spot of darkness appear in the man''s palm, a bolt of shadow formed and loosed just as the circling man charged his side.

    Sid stepped out from behind one of the pillars and bent his bow aiming for the man holding Veronica, but unwilling to fire on her, changed target and loosed a wind-imbued arrow at the charging man. The arrow soared through the air only to be met by the man''s shield, as the wooden barrier blurred upwards to cover his head and neck, smashing the arrow to pieces. He staggered as he blocked the blow but only a small gouge was left in the shield from the attack.

    Sid cursed and went to re-nock an arrow as Fritz leapt to the side and away from the shadow bolt flung at his chest. He almost leapt straight onto the blade of Naomi¡¯s captor who had roughly pushed her onto the ground in a heap. The Arte Pugilist Technique saved him in that moment as he seized his own sideways momentum, coiled it in upon himself and spun, slipping past the blade¡¯s point. As he continued his small spin he used the slight momentum to strike out with his own sword, thrusting it towards the man¡¯s chest.

    The fish blade''s edge cut across the man''s ribs slicing the skin and muscle neatly and leaving notches on his bones as it ground over them. The lank haired man yelled in pain and threw himself to the side, away from Fritz¡¯s all-too-sharp weapon. He looked down at the cut then glared at Fritz as his veins protruded and pulsed rapidly, his face reddened and his features contorted into a savage grimace. His eyes filled with a mindless rage, focused on Fritz and he charged with a mad howl.

    The man moved fast, his muscles bulged with new strength and they strained against his scarred skin, he was upon Fritz, his sword descending in a furious chop that he only narrowly avoided in a controlled tumble. Fritz was rolling onto his feet just as the man that had previously been circling him regained his balance and began to run at him cutting off Fritz¡¯s escape.

    Fritz called on his Stone Pit, reflexively deciding to place it in front of the scarred man that was coming after him with wild slashes. As Fritz dodged another savage swing, the pit formed as the man stomped closer trying to continue his mad assault. When his foot found the hole he tripped and crashed onto the rough dark stone, his sword fell from his grip and Fritz, seizing an opportunity, kicked the weapon out of his reach.

    Out of the corner of his eye, Fritz saw the glittering curve of an axe head swinging towards his neck. He threw himself at the ground, casting aside his own fish blade for a moment so as not to land on his own sword¡¯s wicked edge. He struck the ground hard, the wind was pushed out of his lungs but he didn¡¯t let a little winding stop him from rolling to the side as the axe came down in an executioner''s strike. The axe missed Fritz but bit into the stone causing sparks to spit onto his arm.

    Fritz looked up at the figure looming over him and the man lifted his axe to strike again, ¡°Not so tough without Bert to save you huh?¡± He gloated. Fritz looked around for Sid and saw him dodge another bolt of shadow while not risking loosing an arrow in return lest it hit Veronica. Fritz cursed and fumbled at his belt reaching for anything he might use to get him out of this danger. His hand clasped onto something bony and slightly sticky, that he had long forgotten he had. He did his best not to smile.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need Bert to save me, unlike you need who needs two mates just to assault these women,¡± Fritz taunted. ¡°Rapist scum,¡± he added for bluntness when the man didn¡¯t seem to get his insult quick enough. The scarred man scowled and brought down the axe, right onto Fritz¡¯s leg instead of somewhere less easy to move like his torso or head. The blow went wide as the stone the man was standing on shifted, his right foot falling into a newly created hole.

    Fritz rolled sideways again but was able to push himself up and into a crouch quickly as the man recovered from his swing. He didn¡¯t waste his time, he leapt like a frog, bowling the man over with a reckless tackle. Fritz stabbed the rediscovered blight hound fang into the scarred man''s leg as they slammed to the ground in a thrashing tangle of limbs.

    He struggled to extract himself from the chaotic press but the man was far too strong, easily overpowering Fritz¡¯s own unenhanced strength. The man took control of the impromptu grapple easily pinning Fritz underneath his greater bulk, he sat atop him holding one of his arms to the ground. He brought up his axe preparing to chop down into Fritz¡¯s leather-clad chest.

    Fritz did the only thing he could think of, he punched the jagged fang sticking out of the man''s thigh, driving it deeper, eliciting a howl of pain and, most importantly, distracting the man enough to weaken his grip on Fritz¡¯s arm for a precious moment.

    He used all the wiles, slippery shifting and sly shimmying, he had leant from his other scrapes on the streets of the Sunken Ring, to slip out of the man''s hold. Fritz scrambled away and to his feet, quickly glanced over the battlefield trying to glean the condition of his friends.

    Naomi was slowly standing, swaying a little after her hard fall and dazedly searching for her fin sword. Sid was dodging another shadow bolt, it whispered insidiously as it soared past Sid¡¯s head and struck a pillar, dissipating like coiling smoke with a soft hiss.

    Sid was aiming another arrow, this time at the lank-haired man as he rose recklessly swinging his blade at Fritz, not caring in the slightest that the scarred man stood in his path.

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    The scarred man''s shield blurred up again, blocking the sword''s wild arc but he still staggered from the force of the blow. Must be some kind of block ability, Fritz realised as he took advantage of the brief reprieve, running to and retrieving his fallen fish blade. As he spun to face his opponents once more the savage slash of a sword threatened to gut him, he leant back just far enough that the cut only grazed his stomach, parting his leather vest and leaving a bright line of blood on his pale skin.

    The lank-haired raging madman, swung again, giving Fritz no time to gain distance. There was a whooshing then a thud as an arrow passed through the wrist of the man''s sword arm, leaving a gaping hole that immediately began to pour out blood. His sword clattered to the stone floor but he furiously ran on towards Fritz uncaring that he had no blade, nor protection. Seeming so lost in rage that he could only rush at Fritz to throttle him with his bare hands. Another Stone Pit trick then, Fritz strategised tiredly.

    Again, the raging man tripped as the stone beneath him shifted, again, another man fell on top of Fritz. This time though he steeled his stance, braced his legs and thrust his fish blade¡¯s point forward and into the man''s gut, impaling him. The man didn¡¯t leap away or slump in shock as Fritz expected but instead he bellowed out in rage and pushed Fritz down landing on top of him and reaching out for his neck with his bulky, overly veined hand.

    He hatefully grasped Fritz''s throat and squeezed hard. Fritz thought he could feel his neck creak under the man''s inhuman strength and black shadows blossomed in the corners of his sight.

    In desperation Fritz began to pull his fish blade up then down sawing at the man''s organs cutting them out and away, blood was gushing out of the man in a torrent, still, he stared down with terrible rage burning like a forge''s fire, a forge''s fire that was only just beginning to cool.

    The man''s grip began to steadily weaken as Fritz continued his carving and cutting. Though it felt like a full night of working, the lank-haired man slumped, releasing Fritz¡¯s throat, his bloodshot eyes now cold, dark and dead.

    Fritz panted, he was exhausted, sweating and cursing his luck as he pushed the dead man off of himself, a simple task now that the man was no longer empowered by whatever ability he had been using. The man''s ruined gut spilled chunks of rent human offal and drenched him with gouts of dark blood, hot like a thick scarlet stew, as he heaved the body off himself.

    Sitting up Fritz heard a shriek of pain and glanced around at Naomi and Veronica, seeing that Naomi had just picked up her blade and was slowly approaching the scarred axe man with a determined but wary cast to her visage.

    Veronica was still held by the shadow caster and Lynn lay on the shattered ground, still dazed from the blow she took from when she had been captured. The shriek, it seemed, had come from Sid as he kneeled, one arm hung limp with a dark grey stain on the smooth pale skin of his bicep and another still smoking on his thigh. Veronica upon hearing the shriek, snapped out of whatever surprised stupor she was in and reached up gripping the man''s outstretched arm.

    The caster was panting, probably from the effort of casting as many shadow bolts as he did and looked down in shock, which turned to horror, as he was pulled off his feet by Veronica¡¯s sweeping throw. Veronica spun as she kicked the man''s leg from under him, pulled on his arm and threw him straight at the hard floor, utilising the Arte Pugilist¡¯s Technique just like they''d practised. The was a sickening crack as the man''s head collided with the stone and blood pooled and bubbled out of his ruined face as he lay sprawled.

    The axeman stared at Naomi as she slowly stepped closer to him, he shook his head and grinned as if he had nothing to fear from the slightly dark-haired woman. He made to charge her but the leg that had been pierced by the blight hound fang seemed to move sluggishly, he stumbled instead, keeping his feet but lurching forward awkwardly.

    He glanced down at his wound, dismay coloured his features as he saw the creeping dark veins crawling up his thigh. The venom¡¯s got him, thank you for the idea, Toby, you poisonous prick.

    Noticing the man''s staggering gait, Naomi threw aside caution and charged the man, swinging her fin blade with abandon. The man lifted his shield, blocking a couple of the Flurry strikes but Naomi dashed around him, taking advantage of his unresponsive leg, stabbing him repeatedly in his unprotected side and back. One, three, five, six holes punctured the man within a moment as Naomi stepped away from his ungainly counter slash. He slouched, fell to the ground kneeling, then slumped face down dying, his life spilling out of the holes and painting the stone scarlet.

    The world seemed quiet again for a moment until Fritz could register Sid¡¯s soft grunts of pain and the ragged, gurgling breathing of the sprawled spell caster. Fritz just watched as Veronica picked up the axe lying by the punctured man, heaved it over her shoulder and trudged over to the still-breathing spell caster.

    The pretty inviting light that usually shone in Veronica¡¯s eyes had been replaced with a cold, bitter vindication. Fritz thought she almost smiled as she brought down the axe on the man''s neck with a meaty thwack, it parted flesh and bone, the head tumbling into one of the small stone pits created by Fritz¡¯s spell.

    Their gazes met as they both tore away their eyes from the severed head, that coldness was still there in her eyes and he suppressed a shiver, she held his stare waiting for him to speak, to challenge her decision to execute the man.

    Fritz smiled his false smile, he didn¡¯t feel anything right now except numb relief, but he thought he ought to put the woman at ease and so spoke jovially, ¡°Beat me to it, Veronica, good work.¡±

    She nodded then smiled back those brown eyes still so bitterly cold. ¡°He didn¡¯t really deserve a quick death, but no one really gets what they deserve do they?¡± She asked rhetorically.

    When Fritz shrugged a nod, her eyes softened losing much of their icy edge, ¡°You came for us as you promised, guess the chivalrous act isn¡¯t really an act.¡±

    Fritz struggled to keep eye contact, shame bore down on his smile but he kept it firmly in place. ¡°My word is a sacred vow and as true as the rain,¡± He lied, not easily, but too easily for him to feel comfortable.

    Veronica glanced away from Fritz, turning her attention to the unconscious Lynn. She jogged, then knelt by her side. There was a nasty lump forming right on the dark-skinned woman¡¯s hairline, her breath came softly as if she were asleep.

    Fritz heard a clattering of a fallen fin blade, then a sobbing from where Naomi stood, tears trickling down her face. He looked to Veronica, when he saw she was too concerned with Lynn he turned to Sid who was furiously rubbing at a grey spot on his thigh as if it were numb from cold.

    Fritz sighed inwardly, agitated and knowing he had little time to catch up to Steve but still feeling he had an obligation to help the ladies after the traumatic fight. Maybe Toby and Jane can slow Steve down Fritz hoped as she strode up to the bawling Naomi.

    ¡°Naomi, are you hurt?¡± Fritz asked as he stood beside her looking over the punctured corpse of the man she had killed albeit with the help of the blight hound venom.

    She nodded rapidly then bowed and shook her head, blubbering out an incomprehensible response.

    ¡°What I didn¡¯t quite catch that,¡± Fritz said, placing a hand on her shoulder in support. She startled, then froze at the touch. Fritz winced and quickly removed his hand muttering, ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to scare you, I wasn¡¯t thinking.¡±

    He gave her a weak smile as she shook her head, her tears stymied by the sudden shock. ¡°Sorry, it''s not you. I just killed him, I killed a man, and I don¡¯t feel bad for killing him, I don¡¯t why I¡¯m crying, I do feel bad but I don¡¯t know why. I don¡¯t know why.¡±

    Fritz realised he felt similar, a deep dread that he had caused another human harm, that it was something he couldn''t take back, even if they were about to kill him and hurt these women.

    His promise had cost these men their lives, the thought weighed on him and he slouched unconsciously. Anger flared up in him when he remembered their predatory stares, and their callous disregard for the women. Don¡¯t feel sorry for them they chose to do what they did, to stay behind and inflict needless cruelty. They chose suffering, they chose death by your hand.

    He didn¡¯t know what to say to Naomi and didn¡¯t trust himself to speak without going into a hateful rant. So he instead responded with a commiserating grunt, hoping he could offer at least some comfort.

    He looked over the bodies, trying not to notice the scaled form of Greg, but finally his mind would no longer let him ignore the body of one of his gang. He trudged towards the body, saw the skull-flail cut into pieces laying by his side, its skull staring eyelessly at him in accusation.

    His sight blurred as he knelt before the still, silent Greg, he checked the man for breathing or a heartbeat. Nothing. Just a warmth that was slowly leeching out into the cold stone. A tear escaped Fritz¡¯s eye, and he wiped it away quickly. He never really liked the man, he always thought Greg was a crude, incurious lout. That didn¡¯t mean he wanted the idiot to die, not before he could give him a piece of his mind.

    Fritz ruminated on all the things he had left to say to the brute, all the recriminations or the apologies that he might have given in the future and all the insults he had levied in the past. All worthless now.

    Fritz had thought himself inured to death and the loss it stirred within. He knew that he had already dealt with worse before. The disappearance and likely demise of his father in the Rain Spire and the murder of his mother by the Guide¡¯s Guild enforcers as she defended her estate from their predations, their looting, thieving hands. But no, this was a new loss, a lesser loss but a loss all the same.

    Dwelling on it wouldn¡¯t help him now, there was time for that after the Spire he told himself so he hardened his heart and stood, remembering he had somewhere to be, someone to save and someone to kill.

    Sid was up again, testing out their injured arm with a short series of punches and Lynn was starting to wake, her eyes flickering as Veronica splashed her with water out of her water skin. Naomi was pulling herself together slowly, meandering over to Lynn and Veronica¡¯s side. Fritz went to join them and check on Lynn.

    As he walked past the punctured corpse he pulled free the blight hound fang from the man''s leg, it came free with a sticky tearing of flesh and Fritz tucked the life-saving fang into his belt.

    Lynn looked up blearily at the gathered crew, and grumbled ¡°What did I miss? Where¡¯s those arseholes that jumped us? When did the pretty boy get here? Vee?¡± She slowly sat up with a little help from Veronica and looked around at the remains of the battle.

    Fritz stifled a smirk at the pretty boy comment and let Veronica answer Lynn¡¯s questions and let Naomi see to Lynn¡¯s condition, feeling he needed to move and quick.

    He jogged over to Sid who was bent over stretching his strangely enticing leg and displaying a surprisingly shapely behind. Fritz shook his head, Since when did I lean that way? He discarded the thought immediately, reflecting that it didn¡¯t matter right now.

    ¡°Sid, we need to move as quick as possible, I need your help to catch Steve and make him pay,¡± Fritz asserted looking away from the stretching Sid and string over the broken plains, seeing the gleam of a silver in the distance.

    He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand still and not chase the silver light with abandon.

    Sid nodded, ¡°As soon as I¡¯ve checked on the girls we can go. You might want to check the bodies for anything useful.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but keep the farewells short,¡± Fritz agreed anxiously, knowing he needed Sid¡¯s help to take on the rest of Steve¡¯s crew, and frustratedly began to check the bodies. He found no potions or healing grease, they had little on them save their weapons or ruined armour, which Fritz didn¡¯t need nor want. His trusty fish blade had served him well so far.

    After searching the last of the men, a job taking a few precious minutes, Sid jogged up to him giving Fritz a strained smile. ¡°Let¡¯s go, the girls are fine for now, Lynn¡¯s Tough Skin saved her from most of the blow but they aren¡¯t up for a chase. So the others are staying with her until she recovers. It¡¯s just you and me, Fritz, let¡¯s go catch that prick Steve.¡±

    Fritz nodded and set his gaze on the broken horizon straining to see that silver gleam again, it glinted in the bright light and Sid and Fritz set off, hunting down their quarry over the fissured stone.

 Chapter 19

    Fritz pursued the glimpse of silver, up and down the small jutting ridges and across the difficult broken ground. He wiped off the budding sweat on his forehead and ran on, the room wasn¡¯t hot per se but that bright pyramid burned overhead like a mockery of the sun and baked their flesh if they didn¡¯t find some time in the shade of the pillar forests. It hadn¡¯t been this hot the whole time, Fritz assumed it was just some new torture the Spire implemented for its own arcane reasons.

    Like those Meritocratic Conditions, what were they? He was sure he¡¯d heard something like it once before. Maybe from my father? Maybe I read it in one of his books or journals? Not now, focus on the present! Snapping the chain of thoughts that had been distracting him he bent his mind back to the rocky plain intent on finding Steve.

    Sid followed at his side they were both tired he could see it in the slight heaviness of their footfalls, the fight had drained them considerably but there was no time to rest. Even if it had only been a couple of minutes of fighting but every minute''s head start Steve had felt like years to Fritz. He pushed himself harder, he thought he could see bright dots of blue-green light in the distance, the doors?

    Sid stumbled a couple of times but always caught himself and kept running, it was quite a feat on the treacherous floor. Fritz heard him call out panting and exasperated to his back when he didn¡¯t slow his pace. ¡°Fritz, how much Agility do you have? You¡¯re not tripping up at all.¡±

    ¡°Three,¡± Fritz panted as he doggedly kept up his pace.

    ¡°That makes no sense, I have nine and I have Fleet, why are you moving faster?¡± Sid argued cursing as he nearly tripped again.

    ¡°I¡¯m not... I¡¯m just picking the best way...through the rough...terrain. You¡¯re losing...speed... stumbling and slipping...on flat ground you¡¯d blitz me. I think it...must be a synergy...between my Perception...Trap sense...and...The observations.¡± Fritz explained through gulping breaths. ¡°Just copy me...watch where I put my feet...step where I step...you should be... fine.¡±

    Sid grumbled something inaudible over the thudding of their boots on the dark stone and fell behind following Fritz just as he suggested. Fritz smirked through his ragged breaths but that smirk was soon interrupted by Sid¡¯s voice close behind, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Greg, it must suck to lose someone in your crew.¡±

    Fritz grunted, ¡°I didn¡¯t really...know him that well...I don¡¯t really want to... talk about him...at the moment...we have to get that dagger...and...save Bert.¡±

    Fritz couldn¡¯t see it but could almost feel Sid frown in worry, he let the uncomfortable pause linger and instead focused on his path, where to place his feet and the pounding of his heart. He tried to get his breathing under control, in out, in out, until he finally had somewhat of a rhythm going and the running became more bearable. Only on the easy patches of ground did he risk the attention to glance ahead at the increasingly large Doors, their blue-green light and for any sign of Steve.

    They ran, minutes passed as they traversed the rough stone, jumped over craters and fissures, ran around pillars and strode up steep inclines. It wore away at their stamina, fatigue set in, their steps getting heavier and heavier. Sid seemed to have it better as he could follow Fritz easier than finding his own path and he had used less magic in Veronica Naomi and Lynn¡¯s rescue.

    It occurred to Fritz that without his Endurance Attributes he¡¯d probably be lying flat on his face completely exhausted. As it was he was tired but not stumbling or falling down tired, he thanked the Spires for that much.

    ¡°There, can you see him?¡± Fritz pointed at another thicket of stone pillars where a flash of silver glinted and the clatter of metal on metal could be heard. ¡°I think Toby and Jane are fighting Steve¡¯s crew, let¡¯s help.¡±

    They ducked through the pillars, weaving through the jagged gaps and heading toward the commotion. ¡°Get your bow ready,¡± Fritz ordered as he slammed his back to a pillar hiding his presence as he listened to the yells from nearby.

    ¡°Stop Steve! We don¡¯t want to fight, leave us be, there¡¯s enough Doors for all of us!¡± Jane¡¯s scared voice echoed off the pillars.

    ¡°Not on my watch, they may be idiots but they¡¯re still my gang,¡± Steve replied grunting with effort.

    Fritz signalled Sid to stealthily follow, Sid nodded then brushed his sweaty blonde fringe out of his eyes. He crouched low, prepared an arrow, held it against his bow, ready to be loosed at a moment''s notice.

    Fritz was struck then by how much he was trusting to this man, one that a mere day or two ago he would have called his greatest enemy and rival. Now here he was, as trusty as any of his crew. Reflecting on the other''s reactions to Bert¡¯s wounds, their resignation and abandonment, Fritz supposed Sid was trustier than all of them.

    Fritz was glad to have him and was truly grateful for his aid, even if it could still be some self-serving scheme. He didn¡¯t really feel that Sid¡¯s game was to trick him but his mind told him not to trust him, he felt he was missing something about the blue-eyed boy however his instinct was steering him towards trust. Might as well trust Sid, what have I got to lose? Bert¡¯s dead if his injuries can¡¯t heal, the trip would tear those wounds open and he¡¯d bleed out before we even walked six minutes.

    The shouts had been replaced by wordless yells and grunts of effort. No screams. Yet. Fritz steeled himself for the fight to come and, with a signal to Sid, risked poking his head around the jagged pillar he hid behind, gazing upon the battlefield. What he saw dismayed him, Toby was standing in front of Jane, protecting her from the attacking men. They had their backs to a large pillar to avoid being completely surrounded.

    A baby-faced man hefted his shield up to his throat deftly deflecting one of Toby¡¯s throwing knives, then stabbed forward with the spear he held in his other hand. Toby nimbly dodged the blow. He had always been wily and hard to hit even before he had aligned his Attributes and now with the enhancements from Agility, he was proving even slipperier. He demonstrated this fact again when he quickly ducked a blow from the copper hammer wielded by the last member of Steve¡¯s crew.

    The hammer-man startled backwards clutching at a line of scarlet on his forearm, a parting gift from Toby¡¯s knife, as Toby stepped back and resumed his crouching knife-fighting stance motioning Steve forward with a beckoning gesture from his bloodied blade.

    Jane screamed as Steve lunged around Toby¡¯s guard, a sword in one hand and his bone dagger in his other. His sword struck out almost planting the blade in Toby¡¯s chest. Toby leant out of the way pivoting out of the path of the blade, receiving a small gouge as it punctured through his leather vest. There was a screech of grinding metal as Toby¡¯s dagger scratched at the silver breastplate on its lower left side, Toby swept his other dagger at Steve¡¯s neck, which Steve parried with his own curved bone blade.

    Steve stepped back after the daggers clanged off of each other, he grinned, displaying his crooked teeth, when he saw the blood dripping out of the gash he had cut. ¡°Just roll over and die Toby, it¡¯ll be easier on you. And her.¡±

    Toby scowled, his features more sour than ever, ¡°Piss off. Don¡¯t threaten Jane, I¡¯ll gut you. You rat-faced coward,¡± he responded, his voice low and dangerous.

    Steve¡¯s crew circled preparing another assault, Toby eyed the men as they closed in, fear and hate warring in his flickering gaze. He settled grimly into his stance as if he knew he was already caught, a dead man as true as the rain. Nonetheless, there was determined resignation to his features that said he was going to take down as many as he could before he perished.

    Fritz gave the signal for Sid to fire on the hammer wielder, then skulked forward in a stealthy crouch hoping to take Steve by surprise. He heard Sid step out from his pillar and take aim, the bow bending with a slight groan and the air sucking away as if a giant had taken a breath. Something about the change in the almost non-existent wind alerted the hammer man and he turned to see Sid and Fritz on the precipice of springing their ambush.

    He raised his hammer, stepped to the side and was about to call out when an arrow plunged just under his collarbone. The arrow drilled deep punching through his upper chest, its tip bursting out of his back and spiting red onto Steve¡¯s sword arm. The arrow stuck there, protruding, blood trickled from the puncture wound and down the wooden shaft.

    ¡°Argh! Watch out! Gods-damned Sid and Fritz are here,¡± The hammer man warned as he yelled out in pain. Obviously the arrow had missed his lung judging from the loudness of his voice, much to Fritz¡¯s chagrin.

    Fritz abandoned any pretence at stealth and broke into a sprint straight for Steve while Sid nocked a new arrow and aimed at the hammer man again.

    Fritz put Sid and the hammer man out of his mind, as he ducked under a suddenly interposed spear and lunged with his fish blade. The blade scratched across the silver breastplate, sending sparks flying as Steve turned to face his attacker. Fritz pulled back on his sword then struck out at Steve¡¯s unprotected legs and arms as he should have done in the first place hadn¡¯t been startled into quick action.

    Steve dodged, ducked and parried with his sword taking advantage of his two weapons to keep his limbs safe from Fritz¡¯s frantic attacks. Fritz¡¯s goal however was not just to cause injury but to get him to turn his back to Toby.

    He glanced over Steve¡¯s armoured shoulder and met Toby¡¯s eyes. Jane whispered something to him and his dark eyes darted away, ashamed. Toby spun, looped his arm around Jane¡¯s elbow and without another look back the two slipped around the pillar and out of sight.

    They left Fritz and Sid to fight Steve and his crew alone, to save Bert alone.

    It was in that moment Fritz knew the crew had broken irrevocably, he had assumed it would happen if Bert died, but it seemed that he was wrong on that account, it only took a couple of stab wounds.

    Rage boiled in Fritz, admonishing himself, Toby and Jane. He channelled that anger into his attacks, swinging and stabbing at Steve as fast as he could. It was sloppy, he could tell as he started taking light cuts from Steve¡¯s sword and how he had to keep backing up as the spearman flanked him and added his spear to the duel.

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    He rolled away, under a hewing side slash from Steve¡¯s sword, attempting to increase the distance from the two men hemming him in. The spearman was ready for the roll and jabbed his spear forward piercing Fritz¡¯s forearm just as he was about to find his feet. Luckily it was his empty-handed arm and the fish scale bracer absorbed some of the force.

    Fritz screamed as he pulled on the spear stuck within his flesh, and chopped down violently with his fish blade hacking a deep notch into the wooden shaft. Seeing the effectiveness of his sword''s edge Fritz pulled the blade down and through the wood shearing it into two pieces with astonishing ease.

    He stepped back as a shield was punched at his face, taking the top half of the spear lodged in his forearm and bracer with him. The shield attack had left the spearman open so Fritz lunged into the gap thrusting forward with his blade and skewering the man through the chest. He must have taken him in the heart because the spearman fell instantly, crashing to the ground with shock inscribed on his face and exhaling a curse on his last breath.

    Steve was on Fritz in a moment, his sword imposing on Fritz¡¯s attention as it attempted to part his head from his shoulders in a wide sweep. Fritz parried the blow with his own sword, deflecting it away and to the side. Fritz smirked as Steve over-committed to the strike, he had trapped Steve into suffering his riposte. He thrust forward along his foe''s blade and into the skin of the man''s unprotected upper arm leaving a small bright red gash.

    He was about to press forward on his counter, levying his advantage to rend Steve¡¯s flesh further when he noticed a roiling shadow around the man''s other hand. The dagger was almost in his gut before he finally saw it.

    Fritz threw himself back abandoning the rest of his counterattack and landing hard on his back. The fall pushed the air out of him, stunning him for a second until his attention was pulled to the small cut and a creeping cold where the shadowed dagger had caught him just under his belly button.

    How did he fall for that? That attack wasn¡¯t an over-commitment but a feint. How could he possibly not have noticed the curved bone blade until it was just about to hit? He realised the Ability was very similar, if not the very same, to Gloom Strike the Ability he¡¯d been offered on the first floor.

    He tried to remember the description, it had something about making attacks harder to track, that had to be it. He had severely underestimated the ability if it could trick him like that, he probably only saw it at the last second due to his high Perception Attribute.

    He cursed his luck, in that moment regretting his choice of Stone Pit. With Gloom Strike he could have developed a fighting style that let him embrace his flashiness and flourishes, using his main hand to distract and deceive while using his off hand to deliver the hard to perceive deadly strikes. Much like what Fritz now realised Steve was doing.

    It was only two floors up, the fact that Steve had already grasped a style, even if it was only in its basest, most unpolished form like this, without the benefits of education or guidance from a tutor shocked Fritz.

    Was Steve a hidden talent, a once-in-a-generation genius? No, he knew the man, he was cunning for sure, a sneaky prick with a knack for alley fighting. But a genius? No. But if he was no genius how was he beating me? I¡¯ve been prepared and trained, I¡¯ve read primers and guides on Abilities and Climber strategy. Sure my education was cut short but it should give me a huge advantage, especially against commoners or sneak thieves like Steve.

    Fritz knew those in the Upper Ring thought that nothing great could come from the common blood, sure maybe a good guard or artisan here or there, but generally they just didn¡¯t have the skill, courage or discipline to climb the Spires as the Nobility did.

    Fritz had thought Bert the exception to the rule a steady, bright lantern in the sea of weak, sputtering candles that were the common folk. Being of lesser nobility himself he had thought he was destined to climb higher than anyone else he knew and would bring Bert along with him. Now that he actually had to fight the street rats he was finding that his dismissal of their strength and guile had been sorely misguided.

    Maybe there was just more to be said for those who weren¡¯t born into wealth or title, maybe it was him who was truly unsuited for the climb ahead.

    Fritz lay there thoughts clattering around his shaken mind and off of his rattled ego, reassessing his view of the world and his place in it. You¡¯re fighting to the death, it¡¯s not the time to do this. Get up fool. Suppressing his revelations and the chaotic bent to his racing mind and jumping to his feet, he searched for Sid, hoping he hadn¡¯t also fled like Toby and Jane did.

    Sid was thankfully still there but busy avoiding the hammer man, who had an another arrow planted in his shoulder just above the previous arrow.

    Fritz could see it was a losing battle for the hammer man, he couldn''t hope to catch Sid.

    Sid was waiting for the hammer man to trip or stumble, to plant an arrow in him at that moment of recovery a moment where he¡¯d be unable to dodge. Sid could be no help for now, keeping that other man distracted and away from Steve and Fritz¡¯s fight was the best he could hope for, but that¡¯s all he needed. Right let''s do this, I can''t lose, Bert needs me.

    The mere moments Fritz took to think and to assess his surroundings almost proved fatal as Steve lunged past Fritz¡¯s fish blade and plunged his dagger towards his thigh. Fritz stepped back out of the dagger''s deadly descent, and only because he was paying special attention for any shadows, got his free arm up and in the way of the black coiled steel blade of Steve¡¯s sword as it arced toward his head.

    Dull cold lessened the intense pain that accompanied the hideous hack that shook the bones in Fritz¡¯s forearm and rattled the spearhead still lodged there.

    Fritz yelled in agony as the blade cut into his forearm, cutting away the fish scale bracer and the flesh below. The scaled cloth clattered to the ground, cold writhed into his muscle and bone. His sight darkened and the world around was muffled.

    Fritz gritted his teeth and brought up his fish blade attempting to skewer Steve as the rat-faced man yanked his sword, freeing it from where it had been lodged in Fritz¡¯s arm with a spurt of blood.

    Steve stepped out of Fritz¡¯s clumsy attack, glanced at the injury he had inflicted and wet his thin lips with a darting tongue. He looked around for his crew but seeing them dead or preoccupied began to negotiate.

    "Come on, Fritz, ain¡¯t no use fightin¡¯ no more. I don¡¯t wanna kill you just cause you got a grudge to settle. Bert¡¯s dead, as true as the rain and killin¡¯ me won''t change that,¡± Steve stated with an overplayed attempt at congeniality and casualness. The word¡¯s almost seemed whispered to Fritz¡¯s dulled hearing.

    Steve shuffled slightly in his stance as Fritz stared back, not speaking for once. They stood like that for some seconds, holding each other''s gaze, subtly flexing their limbs and grips, preparing for the fight to reignite. The darkness, quiet and cold seemed to recede as the seconds went by.

    ¡°The dagger, leave it. Then you can scamper away like the rat you are. That¡¯s my offer Steve, dagger or death,¡± Fritz intoned as he swayed slightly, blood trickling from his limp arm to splatter onto the dark stone.

    Fritz was tired, his legs burned from the running, fighting and dodging and he knew that once he used his Stone Pit again he would be empty, so he knew he had to keep it for the right moment or he would die. Just as Steve said.

    ¡°Death?¡± Steve spat disbelievingly his eyes widening in anger. ¡°You¡¯ll be the one who dies skulg-spawn, this dagger¡¯s mine and you wont have it. I¡¯m leaving, don¡¯t follow if you want to live.¡±

    Steve was about to step away but must have read something in Fritz¡¯s grim expression that he didn¡¯t like because he instead made to lunge at Fritz.

    That¡¯s my opening, Fritz thought in triumph as a smirk pulled across his face as he formed his last Stone Pit right under where Steve was about to step, just like he had done with the goblins and the others of Steve¡¯s crew. As his energy left him and the hole shifted into being, his heart sank and despair dragged at his gut as Steve did not step into the hole, in fact, he didn¡¯t press forward at all. He drew his leg back, abandoning his, now obvious, feint and tapping his boot heel on the stone.

    Fritz looked up and into his face, Steve looked mildly surprised at the appearance of the hole but met Fritz¡¯s falling smirk with one of his own.

    ¡°Is that what you chose? You tricky bastard,¡± Steve gloated as Fritz felt the fatigue settling into his body making even staying standing an ordeal. Both of Steve¡¯s blades were covered in rippling darkness, accompanied by eerie whispering alighting just at the edge of hearing. ¡°Well I¡¯d like to say it was nice knowing you, Fritz. But it wasn¡¯t.¡±

 Chapter 20

    ¡°A bit rich coming from you, arsehole,¡± Fritz drawled out exhausted, far too tired to say something witty. What he wouldn¡¯t give for one of those stamina potions they had found, he should have gotten Jane to leave him one. Anger burnt at the thought of Jane leaving with all those valuable potions but Fritz pulled his tired mind back to the fight. Just in time too as the darkened blades sliced in, one after the other, at his wounded side.

    His sword felt heavy in his hand, too heavy. So in desperation, calling upon his reserves of hidden strength, Fritz slung his fish blade at Steve. Haphazardly throwing it like one would a stick for a hound to fetch. I have heard that hounds liked to fetch, haven¡¯t I? His exhausted brain supplied in that strange silliness that came at the edge of mental collapse.

    Without the weight of the sword in his hand he felt surprisingly lighter, freer and was able to fling himself backwards, away from the certain death from the oncoming shadowy blades.

    There was a clatter and a curse as Quicksilver struck something, hopefully Steve, and Fritz staggered back onto his feet. He searched for anything to help, Sid was still fighting, or really running circles around the hammer man, but nothing else came to his attention.

    Fritz focused on the approaching Steve. There was a sheet of blood pouring from his forehead and into one of his eyes and he was breathing hard. It seemed that his fish blade had struck Steve and cut him rather nastily. Well, when I die I¡¯ll have at least left a scar, Fritz mused bitterly.

    Fritz brought up his fists, muscle memory and the Arte Pugilist guiding him into a tight, coiled stance. The Technique, I forgot about that, well let''s hope that Steve isn¡¯t prepared for this mad-mans attacks. He waited, biding his time, slowly building his stamina and watching for Steve to make an attack. His dazed mind told him that it was all or nothing for his counterattack, that he would have to make it count and then he¡¯d have to finish it.

    Fritz didn¡¯t have to wait long. The agitated Steve leapt at him, leading the assault with his sword with no shadowed strikes to be seen. Maybe he¡¯s getting too tired, he has cast a few already, Fritz suspected.

    The sword lanced forward, a precise thrust aimed right at Fritz¡¯s heart. Dodging down and to his right, letting the sword slip just above his left shoulder, Fritz quickly grabbed Steve¡¯s other wrist before it could come up and gut him with the dagger. He yanked Steve¡¯s hand down and away nearly jerking the dagger out of his grip. Now relatively sure he couldn''t be easily stabbed, Fritz slipped his leg behind Steve¡¯s own, braced for impact and shoulder barged the man, slamming him in the chest, hard.

    His shoulder felt like it had shattered, he hit the metal and the shock reverberated into his hacked-up arm as, unfortunately for Fritz, the silver breastplate deflected any real damage. But it wasn¡¯t damage that Fritz was after as he pushed with all his might to knock the rat off his feet. Steve flailed as he toppled over, almost losing his weapons, but maintaining a tight hold of them as he fell to the ground. His breastplate rang like a dull bell as it clanged against the hard stone.

    With his quarry lying spreadeagled and stunned at his feet, Fritz noticed the man''s forearm lay across the hole he had created earlier. Taking it as a good omen and a great opportunity he stomped down on Steve¡¯s forearm hoping the leverage would aid him. His heavy boot met the man¡¯s arm and with a wet crack, it broke beneath his heel, snapping as if it were plank of rotted wood. Steve screamed and cursed, he flailed slicing at Fritz¡¯s legs with his shadowed dagger.

    Fritz sprung away and out of the dagger¡¯s short reach. He stumbled a little in exhaustion but righted himself bringing his hands back up in his coiled stance again, his shoulder and forearm burning in pain. ¡°The dagger Steve, don¡¯t make me kill you, I won''t enjoy it,¡± Fritz threatened projecting his grim determination through the hoarseness of his throat.

    ¡°Piss off Fritz! Just leave me be! Why you gotta break my arm?!¡± Steve screamed as he got gingerly to his feet leaving his sword lying on the floor and letting his broken arm hang limply. ¡°You rich-boy prick, come on then. When I get out of this Spire I¡¯m gonna hunt down your brothers and your sisters, and after I''m done with them they¡¯ll curse the day you were born, that¡¯s if I don¡¯t just cut their throats out before they can scream.¡±

    That was enough for Fritz, whatever he had said about not wanting to kill Steve boiled away as his rage flared. It was one thing to hurt his friends, to hurt Fritz himself, but threatening his family, threatening their peace in their orphanage, that he couldn¡¯t abide, not even for a moment. Fritz saw red and leapt at the man threatening his siblings, throwing himself bodily onto Steve¡¯s gleaming breastplate.

    They fell down together, Fritz gaining the upper hand and landing on top of the startled rat-faced man, it seemed Steve hadn¡¯t aligned Strength attributes either. He let the Arte Pugulist guide him, grappling the hand that held that cursed dagger with both of his own hands. He slammed the tightly closed fist into the hard stone, again and again and again, until Steve¡¯s grip loosed and he dropped the bone blade, the shadows that had been gathered around its edge dissipating with a subtle hiss.

    Steve screamed in frustration and Fritz screamed back as he let go of the man''s wrist and began pummelling his face with a rain of fists. ¡°Don¡¯t... you... ever¡­ threaten...my...family,¡± Fritz yelled out in rhythm with his blows. Steve¡¯s bloodied head bounced off of the stone, his nose and cheeks cracking, then breaking from the repeated strikes. Fritz didn¡¯t know how long he continued to hit the man, his vision swam, black replaced the red. Then he was lying down unable to move, talk or even think.

    As he sank into the dark two bright blue moons came into view, he tried to focus on them but it had become far too hard, the heavy, the dark took him. I¡¯m dead... Mourn me. I¡¯m dead

    ---

    Sid was keeping an eye on Fritz¡¯s fight, looking for an opportunity she could use to help the intense idiot. But she also had her own fight to see to, the hammer man was tough, he obviously had more points in Endurance than she did, but that was okay. Fleet made her far quicker, able to dash away then catch her breath for some moments before the hammer man was within charging range again.

    He had some sort of Ability that was preventing her from hitting him cleanly with her arrows, she only had her last arrow left and didn¡¯t want to waste it. The game of cat and mouse continued until she saw Fritz take that sword to his forearm. Sid cursed under her breath and decided to take a risk, she ducked behind a pillar threw down her bow and readied the fin sword Fritz had given her, his first gift to her, she thought oddly as she wrapped the blade in Wind Strike¡¯s power.

    The air rustled around the fin sword a subtle twisting of the air could be seen around the edges. I wasn¡¯t going to be as effective as it would have on an arrow, Sid knew from her research, but it would still add something. That something could be enough to turn the fight in her favour or at least she hoped so.

    She hid, waiting for the hammer man to stride into view. Sid suspected she had messed up when she heard Fritz and Steve begin to scream at each other, but it just seemed Fritz had made Steve angry. God¡¯s knows he had a talent for that.

    As she listened trying to pick out what they were saying, a shadow loomed from behind. She ducked and spun, just like was outlined in the Arte Pugilist, however, she also adapted the Technique by thrusting her fin sword with a twisting motion stabbing at whatever was casting the creeping shadow.

    The blade glided easily with the motion, the Wind Strike enhancing its grace and speed, plunging into the side of the hammer man who had attempted to sneak up on her from the pillar''s other side. Blood sprayed from the wound as the wind ripped around the blade, tearing flesh and spraying Sid and the pillar with scarlet. The man grunted in pain but brought down his copper hammer anyway, hatred brimming in his pale eyes.

    Sid jumped back spluttering and wiping the blood out of her eyes, the first hammer blow came down short missing completely and cracking against the floor and sending stone chips flying. With a gurgling yell, the man holding the gaping hole in his side, turned and fled behind the pillar as Sid had done so before.

    Sid knew the fight was over, that wound would bleed heavily, and unless the man had a healing potion or Ability he would be dead within the hour.

    It wasn¡¯t the first time Sid had to kill, and it wasn¡¯t even someone she really knew, unlike last time. Sid couldn¡¯t bring herself to care, not at this moment, not now and maybe not ever. It¡¯s just the way things are, reign or be rained on. She told herself, shivering slightly whilst reciting one of Tallie¡¯s favourite sayings.

    Cautiously Sid snuck around the other side of the pillar, stalking her prey, she kept the fin blade at the ready and tracked the man through the maze of standing stones, watching the blood trail he left as he fled. She stopped the hunt, Hunt? Really? You¡¯re not a hunter, you¡¯re a thug, when she heard Fritz and Steve screaming bloody murder at each other. Her concern for Fritz got the better of her and she retreated, abandoning the chase to aid the insane rogue.

    She needn¡¯t have bothered, ducking around the last pillar hiding Fritz and Steve from her sight, and saw a ghastly tableau. Fritz straddled on top of Steve and pummelling him, caving in his face in with his bare fists, Quicksilver lying a couple of feet away. He was also screaming, not in fear but in pure unabated rage. Through his screaming fury Sid was able to make out the words, ¡°Threaten. My. Family,¡± yelled in time with his bone-breaking punches.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Sid watched, it was all she could do, she was stuck in place recalling all the times when her own rage had pushed her into the same violent trance. The times she had beaten someone half to death for crossing her or for getting too close. The difference it seemed was that Fritz wasn¡¯t going to stop at half-dead, no, it looked like he¡¯d only stop when he ran out of that furious fire. Where was this anger, this fight to survive, when I strangled him before?

    Sid thought back on the scrap she had fought with Fritz those couple of years ago. Finding the memory tinted in red, like looking through a stained glass window venerating the Jorved of the Red Road.

    That¡¯s right, I was furious that night too, he almost got past me, almost one-upped me and I couldn¡¯t let that stand. She remembered creeping up behind him as he snuck, getting her scarf around his neck and garroting the idiot boy. He fought like a cornered rat and she like a rabid dog until he fell unconscious from the lack of air, it¡¯s not like she needed to choke him out though, just less bruises this way. For both of them.

    She shook her head dispelling the memory. Seeing Fritz slouch then start to slip to the side, Sid ran to catch him but was too late as he slumped onto the stone with a thud. As she stooped to his side she could hear him whisper something as his dazed eyes stared into the distance, unable to focus on anything.

    ¡°What was that? speak up, Fritz,¡± She softly said.

    Fritz¡¯s grey-green eyes saw her then, and he stared into her own eyes intensely, the faintest impression smirk graced his mouth and he whispered.

    ¡°Mourn me, I¡¯m dead.¡±

    He fell limp, unconscious and Sid grimaced, shaking her head. What was it Bert had said about Fritz¡¯s declarations of death? He¡¯s always doing this? Was it? His injuries didn¡¯t look too bad apart from the nasty gash in his forearm. As Sid had no healing potions or grease she searched the bodies of Steve and the spearman, he looked familiar but she couldn''t recall his name. She shrugged, just another dead gutter rat, she¡¯d seen that far too often to be sad about it.

    Opening Steve¡¯s bag she found what she had been searching for, another unsealed half full grease tin. She pulled her arm down in a triumphant gesture a quickly returned to Fritz¡¯s side. Applying the grease liberally to the gash and then what little remained onto his skinless, bruised and probably broken knuckles.

    She sat back with a sigh of relief as she finished, waiting for the substance to take effect. She wrapped the injured limb in some strips of cloth, an amateur bandage job compared to Jane¡¯s but it would have to do for now.

    Not wanting to waste too much time she continued the looting, the drowned don¡¯t need dinner, reign or be rained on. Or so the sayings went.

    She worried about the man she¡¯d let flee, hoping it was the right choice, that he wouldn¡¯t return or take one of the only Doors out. If she had the numbers right she knew that there weren¡¯t enough Doors for all of them, that¡¯s if the horrible voice hadn¡¯t lied.

    She hadn¡¯t heard of that happening but this whole Spire was far stranger than it had any right to be. She sighed there were just too many unknowns about the Spires, especially for someone like her, a poor, orphan, thug.

    Removing Steve¡¯s breastplate proved annoying work, she had to fiddle with the latches until they became unclasped. Then pull the armour open like a trap door, leaving her finally to tip out Steve¡¯s corpse and the blood that had been pooling in the back. It was disgusting, to say the least.

    She began to clean the armour of its blood stains, using a little of her water and a couple of rags she had scavenged here and there. In the midst of her cleaning she heard a thundering thudding noise then another. It reminded her of the sound the Upper Ring¡¯s portcullis made when slamming shut just louder, far louder.

    Sid got to her feet and looked out over the plains, she couldn¡¯t make out anything new or odd, but there was something different. She just couldn¡¯t tell what. She spat in frustration and returned to where Fritz lay, looking him over once to check if he was breathing. He was. She exhaled, weariness heavy on her breath, stretched her tight shoulders and got back to work, looting and cleaning the loot. Same old, same old.

    ¡°You better wake up soon, Fritz, I¡¯m not gonna wait for you.¡±

    ---

    Fritz woke up, some great thunder had struck and he was afraid he was in a storm. A storm was deadly if you didn¡¯t have shelter, especially so in Rain City, you could easily be washed away with the other detritus in the torrential flooding and no one would miss you, not in the Sunken Ring.

    He glanced around in fear, but feeling no rain or cold he began to get control of his rapid breathing. No storm, not in the Sunken Ring, in a Spire. Much better, he thought sarcastically but not altogether untruthfully.

    He made to sit up but his head swam so he let himself lie there, just for a moment. Then a moment or two more. His hands ached terribly, especially his left. He squeezed his fingers into a fist, testing for anything broken, but just found his muscles tight and swollen. A cool numbing sensation was seeping into his knuckles so he waited for the healing grease to work its healing.

    He lay there for some minutes nauseated by the coppery smell of blood and the sour-sweet smell of that healing grease.  He must have had at least a bucket of the stuff applied to him by now, and who put it on me this time? Must have been Sid, I¡¯m so glad I voted him into our climbing team, Fritz mused surreptitiously rewriting history.

    Fritz heard the scraping of boots returning to a spot a couple of feet where he lay. Heard Sid messing with some metallic object, probably Steve¡¯s breastplate. Fritz decided to keep resting his eyes, not planning anything nefarious like playing a small joke on Sid, no, nothing like that at all. It took some control to stop himself from giggling like an idiot and giving his game away.

    He heard Sid sigh, then in a soft almost cute voice said, ¡°You better wake up soon Fritz, I¡¯m not gonna wait for you.¡±

    Delighted at such an obvious cue Fritz immediately replied, ¡°Watch out you almost sounded like you cared.¡± Out of one eye, Fritz saw Sid startle then curse under his breath.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care, Fritz. You¡¯re just Bert¡¯s best chance to get out of here. And I owe him,¡± Sid responded gruffly as he hid his shock, poorly.

    ¡°I see, I see, all for Bert. Paying back a debt, lucky guy,¡± Fritz said disbelievingly, smirking at Sid.

    ¡°Are you just going to lie there forever? I wasn¡¯t lying when I said I won''t wait around for you,¡± Sid said, polishing the last of the blood off of the silver breastplate, and looking into its mirror sheen with a satisfied smile.

    ¡°Sure, sure getting up. Such a strict nurse, I¡¯m not sure if I like it or not,¡± Fritz teased, sitting up with a little vertigo, it wasn¡¯t so bad as to keep him down this time, but he could not quite stand yet. From his seated position he searched the area and immediately noticed something ominous.

    ¡°Uh Sid, that thunder wasn¡¯t just me hallucinating was it?¡± He asked the man now fastening the latches of the silver breastplate he now wore. Fritz had to admit it looked good on him, in a shining knight sort of way.

    ¡°No, I heard it too. I don¡¯t know what it was though, someone''s Ability?¡± Sid replied offhandedly standing, stretching and checking how the armour fit.

    ¡°Was it two blasts?¡± Fritz asked apprehension settling in his chest.

    ¡°Yes, why? Is that important?¡± Sid smiled absently as he swept his fin blade through the air, seeing that the breastplate barely weighed him down or restricted his movements.

    Fritz stiffed a gulp as he looked at those bright green-blue lights at the end of the floor, two of the six had disappeared. ¡°I¡¯d say so, two of the Doors are gone, probably closed.¡±

    Sid stopped in his tracks then let out a hissing breath of anger, ¡°How did I not realise that? I need to move, only four Doors left.¡±

    Fritz¡¯s stomach dropped, he ran the numbers quickly in his mind. Two down, Toby and Jane? Can''t see who else it could be. Three more are needed for Veronica, Lynn and Naomi. Two more for Bert and Sid and one for me. He reasoned rapidly, coming to the conclusion that even if none of Steve¡¯s crew went through a Door, there would be two of them left behind.

    To die.

    Maybe we¡¯ll draw reeds or something?

    Fritz looked at Sid, watching him closely, suspiciously. Would Sid betray me? Kill me right here? No that didn¡¯t make any sense. Why waste all that precious grease? How far can I trust Sid? Do I even have a choice but to trust him?

    From the cast of Sid¡¯s face, Fritz could tell that the man was asking the same sort of questions, he stared hard at Fritz, taking a few seconds to make up his mind.

    Sid strode over to where Fritz sat, fin blade in hand and a serious, dark look etched into his fine features. He loomed over Fritz and stared down, bright blue eyes bored into Fritz¡¯s, in that moment he knew that his life was in held the balance. Weak as he was, he retreated to his last bastion, his disarming charm, let¡¯s hope it works this time.

    He met Sid¡¯s glare with his most ingratiating smile.

 Chapter 21

    Sid¡¯s hand grasped the collar of Fritz¡¯s increasingly ragged shirt and pulled him up, choking him in the process as Fritz was dragged to his feet.

    ¡°What are you grinning at you bloody fool! Get up we have to get out of here,¡± Sid growled.

    Fritz was hoisted up unsteadily to his feet. He felt embarrassment that bordered on shame that he had suspected Sid would turn on him. Not everyone is like Toby and Jane I guess. Fritz dusted himself off hiding his surprised expression by turning and searching for his fish blade. He didn¡¯t want Sid to read what he had been suspecting about the whole ¡®Sid might murder me thing.¡¯

    Spotting his treasured weapon, he gingerly walked over to its resting place and scooped it up fondly, it rang softly as it scraped against the stone. ¡°Hark. Gladly doth the indomitable Quicksilver return to its gallant master!¡± Fritz exclaimed like he was acting on a stage and holding the sword aloft in an exaggerated pose of triumph. Doing his best to imitate a statue of Far''Zael the Just.

    Another sigh from Sid, returned Fritz to reality and the two corpses that lay at his feet, both of which he had killed himself. The weight of the realisation threatened to bring Fritz to his knees but he pushed it away. Later. He told himself. Suddenly remembering why he had even fought Steve, he wildly searched for the cursed bone dagger, finding it lying by the side of Steve''s lifeless corpse, right by his caved-in face. Fritz''s stomach lurched, then he lost his last meal, throwing up into a particularly convenient fissure.

    I did that? With my bare hands? He shuddered in horror, a sudden fear of his own anger. I did, what I had to, he would¡¯ve gone over my brother and sister. That was a lie he knew, in retrospect Steve had said Brother¡¯s and sister¡¯s. Plural. which meant he had no real clue about his family¡¯s whereabouts. He could have gone after them though, once he got out. He reasoned, shifting the blame.

    Fritz gathered his courage and grabbed the dagger off of the stone, determinedly not looking at the remains of Steve¡¯s skull. With the bone dagger in hand feeling a small tingle of something. Magic?

    He held the dagger in his palm, then out of his eye he spotted Greg''s black helm, discarded in a crater. The sight sent a pang of grief bouncing in his gut, he stole away Steve¡¯s bag and placed the helm inside, so he didn¡¯t have to look at it. Maybe it can be sold on the outside or something.

    ¡°You done over there? What¡¯s the move, Fritz?¡± Sid called out, he had finished collecting anything of use from the bodies and stood there in Steve¡¯s, well now Sid¡¯s, gleaming silver breastplate.

    ¡°Why do you get the breastplate exactly?¡± Fritz griped, tucking the dagger safely into his belt.

    ¡°The oldest law,¡± Sid intoned solemnly then lit up with a smile, ¡°Finders keepers.¡± Then he poked his tongue out at him childishly.

    Fritz couldn¡¯t help but laugh, Sid had been really starting to grow on him these past couple of days. Maybe it was all the battles they had fought together but Fritz felt closer to Sid than ever. At this rate we might even become friends.

    ¡°Very well, I suppose it¡¯s too gaudy for me anyway,¡± Fritz jibed back returning a similarly childish tongue poke.

    ¡°Too gaudy for ¡®the Fritz¡¯? I don¡¯t believe such a thing exists,¡± Sid responded with a small snort.

    ¡°Anyway I have to get back to Bert,¡± Fritz explained, getting ready for the trek ahead and testing out his bandaged arm. ¡°Thanks for the healing by the way. You really saved me back there.¡±

    ¡°Well you helped save the girls, I owed you one too. Let''s go see how Bert¡¯s doing,¡± Sid motioned for Fritz to lead the way, which he supposed he should with his abilities lending so much efficiency to travelling over the rough ground.

    ¡°I made a promise, of course I would help, they''re only here because of me in the first place. How could I go against my word?¡± Fritz said falsely cheerful as if it weren¡¯t a desperate decision he made in self-righteous anger. He began to jog to where he thought Bert lay, picking out the pillars he specifically remembered to lead the way back.

    ¡°Easily,¡± Sid said darkly in response. They ran in silence save for their ragged breathing, they were tired but the end seemed to be in sight so they pushed on. Just need to decide who¡¯s left behind and dies, Fritz ruminated as dread filled his body more with every step closer to Bert.

    It wasn¡¯t Bert they ran into first of course, there was a shout of joy from Naomi as she spotted Fritz and Sid running towards them over the uneven stone. Veronica and Lynn turned to where the woman was pointing then Naomi waved them over excitedly. It rankled Fritz to delay his return to Bert but he grinned and bore it, a couple of thanks from pretty damsels wouldn¡¯t slow him down too much. It was a small detour but Fritz made for them.

    ¡°Did you catch them,¡± Naomi blurted out, flicking her hair¡¯s green streak out of her face and smiling widely at Fritz and Sid.

    ¡°Yes, got the dagger too,¡± Fritz replied, as the women gathered standing around them.

    ¡°Dagger? What dagger?¡± Asked Veronica quizzically.

    ¡°The cursed one, that Steve stabbed Bert with, it was stopping his healing,¡± Fritz explained surprised they didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°Oh! Really? I thought you were going after Steve for revenge. When I saw you alone I assumed¡­ I thought that Bert had¡­ you know..¡± Veronica trailed off sheepishly, fussing at her short tunic.

    ¡°Died? No, he¡¯s just over there,¡± Fritz pointed to his closest approximation of where Bert was ¡°I better see if the dagger can be deactivated or something, then I¡¯ll get him to his feet at we can meet at the Doors.¡± Fritz said without much hope that they¡¯d actually stay, not that he blamed them of course. Well, maybe a little.

    He saw their strained smiles and furtive glances, well, except Lynn she just looked him dead on and nodded, a knowing look in her burgundy eyes. Fritz knew they were planning to leave as soon as they could from those reactions alone.

    Fritz sighed inwardly, he knew in their place he would secure the way out and take it, there was no other choice, no need to begrudge them for their desire to live. They were there because he asked them to keep climbing. It was at Sid¡¯s request sure, but he still made the choice and there is one thing you learn in the Spires it''s the consequence of choice.

    Fritz sighed outwardly this time, ¡°Let¡¯s be honest then. You ladies take the Doors if they''re open, no use waiting around for me and Bert.¡±

    Naomi winced, Veronica looked away hiding tears and Lynn nodded, then gave Fritz a genial slap on the shoulder.

    ¡°Mighty noble of you, Fritz. You know what, no matter what people say about you, you¡¯re all right in my book,¡± Lynn said her deep tone approaching some warmth.

    Fritz frowned at the compliment, wondering what people said of him, but stayed quiet which caused Lynn to guffaw. He turned to Sid, who looked awkwardly from the ladies and Fritz as if making up his mind about something.

    ¡°Fritz, I know this ain¡¯t fair, but it just is. I¡¯m going with them, I uh, I can''t risk it, Fritz, not after how far we¡¯ve come,¡± Sid explained hoarsely as if holding back tears.

    Fritz had felt this was coming but he still felt it was like a betrayal. Was it as bad as Toby and Jane¡¯s? Not really, as he didn¡¯t know Sid all that long or well for that matter. Still, they had been growing closer or at least he hoped so.

    ¡°I understand,¡± Fritz said dejectedly. Trying to push some hope into his tone he asked, ¡°If I don¡¯t make it. On the outside, I have a brother and a sister. Could you look out for them?¡±

    Naomi broke into tears, Lynn''s friendly smile dropped off of her face. Sid and Veronica looked stricken but resolute, with tightly balled fists and more tightly controlled expressions.

    ¡°Where can we find them? What are their names?¡± Sid asked, staring at Fritz as if he were going to etch their names into his memory.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be in the Guide Guild¡¯s sponsored orphanage, Guild Hall for the Fallen¡¯s Fledglings, their names are Amathea and Elliot Hightide,¡± Fritz said exposing one of his secrets, one of his vulnerabilities. He didn¡¯t like it, but apart from Bert, these people were the only ones he trusted in this world, and maybe just maybe they could help his family in his stead. It was the least he could do for them, he consoled himself.

    ¡°Wait you¡¯re really nobility?!¡± Sid exclaimed mouth agape. ¡°Hightide, really?¡±

    ¡°Was, and it was a minor house, gone now, it died with my mother,¡± Fritz explained uneasily, fidgeting where he stood as they stared in disbelief. He hoped the newly shed light on his past wouldn¡¯t colour their view of him.

    ¡°That¡¯s not important anymore, I¡¯d just like someone looking out for them in case they get into any trouble and end up on the streets, like me,¡± Fritz continued trying to stay on topic. ¡°They probably won¡¯t, they''re good kids, but you never know.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°And why exactly were you slumming it in the gutters instead of taking it easy in an orphanage in the Upper Ring?¡± Sid demanded perplexed.

    ¡°I uh, again, it¡¯s not important. But I hurt someone. I hurt them bad,¡± Fritz¡¯s statement was met with arched eyebrows. ¡°They were cruel to my siblings and the other orphans you see, and uh yeah, one thing led to another-,¡± Fritz bumbled out not really thinking about or embellishing the tale as it was part of his past he hadn¡¯t told anyone but Bert and hadn''t expected to tell anyone else.

    Veronica held up a hand cutting him off, ¡°Enough, we get the picture.¡±

    Sid sighed shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can, Fritz.¡±

    ¡°So will I,¡± Naomi croaked out through her sobbing and surprising Fritz with a tight hug. Something he hadn¡¯t experienced in some time. It warmed his heavy heart somewhat and reinforced his decision to stay. Not that he could ever leave Bert behind. Veronica nodded as did Lynn who seemed to look at him with some strange mixture of respect and pity.

    ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, I better get to Bert,¡± Fritz said awkwardly, again fidgeting, needing to be away from them. Naomi let him out of her embrace and he waved them goodbye as he turned, ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll uh... see you ladies later.¡±

    He gave them his most bittersweet smile, he knew he would never see them again, he knew would probably die here with Bert. But if that was the way it had to be then he would meet Bert again with a smile.

    He ran over the stony ground, past pillars and leapt over fissures, looking for the place they had left Bert. How long had it been? It felt like an hour running from one fight to another, but really it had probably only been half of that. Would Bert be okay? Or will I get there and find Bert a corpse? Is there even a point? There are going to be no Doors left. Why did I stay,? I should have left, run away, I should¡¯ve abandoned everyone and climbed by myself.

    His thoughts raced, blaming himself, the Spire and everyone else besides, but it was already too late, he had made his choice and railing against that was a fruitless endeavour. He cursed the unfairness, the Spire, the Gods and Guilds. He ran until he had made it back to Bert¡¯s side, there he was, just as he¡¯d left him. The slight breeze carried the scent of fresh blood, its coppery tang nearly making Fritz retch again. Was Bert still breathing?

    Fritz stooped over Bert¡¯s still form looking at his too-pale skin, then he heard a whistle of breath, slight but steady. He sighed in relief, not dead then, just resting.

    He was no medic so he left the bandages as they were, thinking he¡¯d only do more harm than good if he disturbed the ugly stab wounds. He fumbled for the dagger, held it in his hand and gripped its handle tightly. He could feel its magic so he tried to Activate it, to will it, commanding it with every fibre of his being to release Bert¡¯s wounds from its cruel power.

    He felt a small tingle that turned into a sharp pang in the muscles of his hand. Then nothing. He didn¡¯t have to check Bert to know that it had failed. Destroy it then. He decided instantly, searching for something to break the curved bone blade. Spotting his shield he looked for a place to put the dagger to stop it from skittering away when he struck it. He slapped himself on the forehead when he blearily remembered his Stone Pit Ability.

    He cast his spell, the stone shifting before him and feeling the stamina drain out from his body, I¡¯ll have to get some rest soon before I collapse, his tired mind complained. He was about to gently place the dagger in the hole when he reminded himself it was meant to be destroyed and just threw it in haphazardly. Fritz seized the shield, sat in front of the dagger in its hole and slammed its edge down onto the dagger. It was unbroken, in fact, it was completely unharmed from what he could see.

    Fritz slammed down the shield again and again, using all his might to bring the iron banded wood down over and over on the cursed blade like he was using some kind of brutal mortar and pestle. For minutes he grunted smashed and rained blows upon the terrible object until he fell back gasping for breath. The blade was unmarred, not even a scratch or notch could be seen in its pale bone surface.

    Tears of frustration poured down his face, he sobbed at his powerlessness to harm the damned dagger. Unable to hold it in much longer he screamed in rage hefting the shield aside to clatter uselessly on the stone. Its iron edge dented and the wood maimed by Fritz¡¯s reckless bashing.

    ¡°Why are you yelling!?¡± Bert burst out, as he eased himself onto his side with a grunt of pain. ¡°I was dreaming the most wonderful dream, and now you¡¯ve ruined it.¡±

    Fritz looked away from Bert, as the man''s amber eyes coloured into worry from anger.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Fritz?¡± He asked.

    ¡°The dagger, its curse, it won''t go away, it won''t deactivate,¡± Fritz confessed staring at the blade with hate.

    ¡°Well it¡¯s not the end of the floor, there maybe-¡± Bert began to say as thunder seemed to strike again. Bert covered his ears and Fritz counted the number of overwhelming thuds of the slamming Doors. He looked over the plains and could see each of those green-blue lights like twinkling stars go out as each Door slammed shut. One, two, three, four. The sounds echoed through the pillars and off the walls until, suddenly, silence.

    That was it, no escape now. Fritz felt despair overtake him, pulling him down, making it feel as though he couldn¡¯t move from the floor. Even the light seemed to be disappearing from his vision as he clutched his knees tightly to his chest. I will die here, all alone.

    ¡°Fritz, are you okay?¡± Bert¡¯s voice whispered.

    Not alone.

    ¡°No, the Doors are shut, the climb ends here and worst of all. Bert, you¡¯re dying,¡± Fritz responded desperately wishing what he was saying wasn¡¯t true but his heart full of the dread conviction that it was.

    ¡°I¡¯m not dead yet,¡± Bert chided indignantly. ¡°So six doors, do you know who got out?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Fritz admitted into his knees the dark feeling heavier than ever. ¡°Toby and Jane most likely, then, from what I could tell from them all going off at once it must have been the ladies: Veronica, Naomi, Lynn and probably Sid.¡±

    ¡°Well if I don¡¯t get to climb I guess they¡¯re the people I¡¯d choose to go on instead,¡± Bert said seemingly resigned to his fate. ¡°What about Greg?¡±

    Fritz stiffened at the question, not knowing how to answer in the moment, after some silence Bert seemed to get the gist though.

    ¡°A shame really, he wasn¡¯t the easiest to get along with, but he was loyal. And could sometimes be a great laugh,¡± Bert eulogised weakly.

    Fritz merely shrugged from his huddled position. Unable to bring himself to say anything about Greg, the man whose last words to him had been ¡®piss off would you¡¯. He¡¯d never get to set the record straight, Greg was right about him in the end. Selfish. Even now wallowing in self-pity when Bert needed him.

    He was suddenly very aware of his blood soaked, and cut to pieces, leather vest. He stripped it off in disgust and threw it as far as he could away from himself.

    ¡°I can''t see very well, Fritz, the darkness is creeping in on me. You must be right about me dying,¡± Bert continued exhausted.

    Wait it¡¯s not just me? Fritz popped his head up, looked up and around, it was getting darker and the reason seemed to be that the pyramid had been steadily getting duller since the Doors had closed.

    ¡°No it¡¯s not just you Bert, my friend, the pyramid is going out,¡± Fritz relayed as the pyramid''s light rapidly dwindled away. ¡°Great. We get to die in the dark,¡± Fritz groused.

    ¡°At least it¡¯s not raining. We¡¯re going to die dry, that¡¯s something,¡± Bert said determined to not even let death break his mad optimism.

    Fritz shook his head, but smiled all the same, ¡°You¡¯re right, plus it looks like we were left some of the glowing amber,¡± He got to his feet and trotted over to his and Bert¡¯s bags, the shimmering of that swirling light subtly leaking through the fabric.

    He opened his own bag pushed aside the waxpaper package that held the quicksilver swordfish¡¯s eyes and retrieved his glowing amber and some of the leftover smoked monster meat. Might as well eat, not like rationing will do any good.

    Meandering over to Bert he plopped the stone on his chest to give his friend some light, then sat taking his place beside him. They watched the darkness get ever darker, the quiet broken by the sound of them chewing on the metallic flesh of the horrible fish.

    Eventually, the darkness became absolute and they were as a shimmering orange island in the void, one small stretch of something in a seemingly endless expanse of nothing.

    ¡°You know I thought my death would be more exciting,¡± Bert confessed almost cheerfully, ¡°This is boring.¡±

    Fritz couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the remark, but in his soul, he agreed. There was something not quite right about this scenario.

    He looked away from his friend''s infectious grin and out into the black. And saw something not black, a faint lavender luminescence caught in his rapidly adjusting eyes. Fritz scrambled to his feet, causing Bert to startle at his sudden movement.

    ¡°I see something, one moment, Bert, I¡¯m going to scout it out, stay put would you?¡± Fritz blurted out hastily not daring to hope yet.

    He barely waited for a response as he dug through Bert¡¯s pack for another of the amber stones to light his way, seizing it and feeling its strange warmness.

    ¡°Not like I have a choice. Don¡¯t die out there,¡± Bert grumbled, worriedly watching Fritz stride off into the dark.

 Chapter 22

    Fritz scrabbled and struggled on the uneven stone, the dark making it far harder to pick out a clear path to where he had seen the lavender light. Even with his amber stone, it took some minutes to reach and stand where he was sure the light had been. But there was nothing revealed under his swirling orange-yellow light. ¡°Final Spire, I better not have just been seeing things,¡± Fritz cursed, shining the amber stone¡¯s light this way and that.

    After no success, he turned to leave and began scrabbling back towards Bert, his own amber light glimmering like a lantern in the distance. Sighing and muttering in frustration he made his way across the stone, in one last act of hope he looked over his shoulder. Expecting nothing he almost jumped when he saw the light again, just where he had been standing before. Why didn¡¯t I see it when I was there? Eyeing the spot suspiciously he began to make towards it, again. As he approached the spot slowly he saw the light wink out, he stopped when it did so, then took a step back.

    There the lavender light was again, was it closeness or something else? Fritz pondered, but luckily he didn¡¯t have to think for long as when he scratched his head with his amber glow-stone. He saw the lavender luminescence react, growing darker as the light approached. Of course, I only noticed it when the pyramid went dark. He placed his glowstone down, abandoning it for now but softly telling it, ¡°Don¡¯t worry I¡¯ll be back for you.¡±

    Why he did so he did not know. He found his way toward the purple glow on his hands and knees, not trusting himself to stay upright in the black, especially in his ragged, desperate condition. He was shocked to see what had been producing the light. Small mushrooms, as tall as his hand, that looked almost like a jellyfish¡¯s tendril with a small glowing lavender bulb at the end swayed in the non-existent breeze. They poked out from a fissure and led away, near to where they had entered this horrible floor.

    Making sure not to disturb the odd fungi, he crawled, following the seemingly aimless trail. His rough scrabbling pursuit of the origin of these lights finally led him to a wall, a wall that had a luminescent lavender fissure climbing up it then down it in a subtle oval. Giddiness rode over him and he jumped up, this time suspecting his fortune had changed dramatically for the better. A Hidden door? It can¡¯t be! It must be!

    He stopped his crawl before he slammed into the wall or accidentally tumbled into the ¡®Door¡¯ head-first. He reached out a hand, touching the stone on the outside of the glowing purple oval, searching for a button or mechanism that might make the Door open. If it was one, a pessimistic part of his mind thought. Nothing. Not dismayed, he placed his hand on the stone inside the fissure and felt the stone give a little, gelatinous, like he was pressing on a jellyfish¡¯s cap.

    His hand began to sink through the stone like it was a sheet of honey and Fritz pulled back his hand quickly, not knowing if he could come back if he went through the Door. He needed to get Bert, there was a way out for them both, the Spire had lied to them. Or had it? Fritz recalled the insidious not-words of the Spire. Those Doors it had said, so not technically lying, just a complete misdirection.

    Fritz smiled grimly at the Spire¡¯s game, it wanted us to turn on each other rather than look for this or other Doors. Evil, cruel and completely callous. No wonder this Spire has been kept secret for so long, anyone climbing it is likely to die horribly and never live to tell the tale. Fritz snapped out of his internal complaining, there was a way out and he would take it. He scrabbled back to his amber, scooped it up and returned to Bert¡¯s side it seemed like moments to his excited spirit.

    Fritz appeared stepping into Bert¡¯s circle of light, grinning widely and squirming to give Bert the good news. Then his face fell as he saw Bert, he had only been gone a few minutes, no more than ten but Bert had taken a turn for the worse. He was sweating, bleary-eyed and weak. It seemed a lot of the strength he had put on before was just a show and now he didn¡¯t have the energy to perform it anymore.

    ¡°Bert!¡± Fritz hurried to his friend''s side, ¡°Bert, stay with me, I found a way out of here, Bert!¡±.

    ¡°Wha ¨C Fritz you¡¯re back, good it was starting to get cold, start a fire would you?¡± Bert mumbled, babbling and panning his dazed eyes just over Fritz¡¯s shoulder before closing them. His face went slack and his hand slipped from his body to lie on the cold stone.

    They had to leave now, nothing he could do here could save Bert, his only chance was the Door he had discovered, if he had the time maybe he could have found another Door, one that didn¡¯t seem so weird. As it was though this was his only choice, now how to move Bert? I can¡¯t carry him, how about I fashion a sort of pallet or sled or something?

    Fritz discarded the idea, not enough time to be messing about trying to build something, he was no engineer or carpenter after all. But he was a thief and he had slapped together makeshift backpacks and harnesses, he looked to his rope and to the oilcloth Bert was using as a blanket.

    With a plan in mind, Fritz was a frenzy of movement, he grabbed Bert¡¯s blanket, and punched two holes in its top corners, grabbing his rope and threading it through the new openings. Pulling Bert onto the oilcloth proved difficult but Fritz managed it, not as gently as he wanted but he was concerned more about speed than comfort. He wrapped his friend up in the cloth then tied his rope around the man at his feet and shoulders hopefully enough to keep the oilcloth in place.

    Fritz tied the other end of the rope into a harness he could slip over his shoulders and added both Bert¡¯s and his own backpack to his burden. He made sure to tuck away the amber glow-stones, he wouldn¡¯t need them not when he just had to follow the fungus. Securing the haphazard but solid contraption of rope and cloth he pulled, dragging the unconscious Bert behind him.

    The sound of his panting breath and the scraping of the load he pulled behind him were constant companions during the long haul across the stony plain. He had been lucky the hidden Door was so close to the entrance where they had left Bert and it only took him five or six minutes of the backbreaking labour to reach the glowing oval. Though to Fritz it felt far longer as his worry and fear pushed him on but also dragged the time out in his mind.

    Fritz stood before the luminescent lavender outline of the Door, catching his breath for a moment and trying to overcome his fearful apprehension of what lay beyond. It can¡¯t be worse than here. Right? It was an odd feeling, a prickling sensation on his skin, it was like standing on top of a cliff peering down into a distant raging sea. What was the word? Precipitous. A moment of no return.

    Discarding his fear Fritz plunged forward pressing his hand then his face, then the rest of his body through the membranous stone. It was like pushing through an enormous jellyfish, cold and thick but not sticky as he worried it would be. His eyes could not make sense of what he was seeing, swirling lights and colours, some he was sure a mortal was not meant to see. He quickly closed his eyes to shield his sight from the onslaught of eldritch brilliance.

    Fritz held his breath unwilling to test if the substance would enter his mouth or nostrils if he inhaled and kept walking onward. It was a wholly dissonant feeling, like stepping both only once but also walking three thousand miles in a matter of seconds. The notions of near and far clashed in his mind and spirit, turning his stomach and spinning his senses.

    Still, he slipped through the jelly-like portal, a mere three steps and he was through, the cold slipperiness replaced with a mild, merely cool breeze. He stood there taking a deep breath, waiting for the nausea to settle before opening his aching eyes. When Fritz opened his eyes he could see he stood atop a grassy hill. The light was dim, the world was painted in shadows while the sky was hued in ever-shifting oranges, reds and purples. To his left, there was a forest of grey-barked trees flourishing in or perhaps reflecting the colours of the sun that lay setting or rising on the horizon.

    It was breathtaking, but Fritz didn¡¯t have time to be distracted by its beauty. Still, he took a moment to just take it all in. The way the breeze seemed to dance through the strange knee-height grass in its metallic hues of copper, silver, gold and many other colours Fritz couldn¡¯t name. The plains of grass refracted the myriad rays of light in subtle scintillating pools of illumination.

    If Fritz hadn¡¯t just gone through the strange Door and seen whatever it was in between these two places then he might have thought it all too much. As it was, the light wasn¡¯t all that bright it was just all constantly in flux, always moving in unpredictable, intriguing ways. It occurred to Fritz that he should probably be on alert for danger, but the strange mildness of the breeze and the soft quiet of the rustling grass lulled him into an odd tranquillity. The alien landscape had such a sense of discordant familiarity it felt like he was in a dream, he pinched himself just to make sure.

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    He wasn¡¯t in a dream, he hurt too much both inside and out. Accidentally pinching one of the many cuts that hadn¡¯t quite healed yet, he let out a small yelp, ¡°Ouch.¡±

    The jolt of new pain brought him back to his senses, back to his mission, back to finding Bert the help he needed. The Well Room, it was his only hope, so he had to get through here as quickly as possible. These hidden Doors often gave extra ways to avoid danger, find better Treasures or receive strange opportunities. Most of the knowledge Fritz had on the matter was vague as hidden Doors were, well, hidden, shrouded in secret and rare. They could also be dangerous, but it was usually well worth the risk.

    For Fritz and Bert, it wasn¡¯t a risk at all, it was their only way through this crisis. He stood on stone that ended in a circle of the strange purple mushrooms. Past the mushroom¡¯s purple periphery, they were surrounded by the metallic grass, no sign of the Doorway back. A One-way trip then.

    Searching for a clear path forward he scanned his surroundings: a glimmering forest to his left, shadowed rolling hills to his right, what looked like a foggy swamp behind him and in front a seemingly endless grassy plain.

    ¡°Straight it is then, over the plains,¡± Fritz announced to no one in particular. Deciding to take the ¡®easiest¡¯ route. He had to keep his wrapped-up Bert ¡®sled¡¯ safe, and that meant no more difficult ground.

    Not having any time to waste he set off, trudging down the hill, through the tickling fingers of grass. He had some time to enjoy the dull, peaceful pace of this strange realm he found himself in, that was until he spotted something flitter and flutter out from the trees from his left. Somethings, he amended as he saw the small shapes dancing through the sweet scented air towards him.

    He readied his fish blade as they drew closer, the things looked to be moths or butterflies the size of his outstretched hand. Fritz was poised to strike them if they posed a danger to him or Bert, but once they were close enough that he could get a good view of their features he instead stood frozen in disbelief.

    They were tiny, fine-featured people with butterfly wings, clothed in tunics and dresses made of autumn leaves or sometimes nothing at all. Dust fell from their flickering sunset-hued wings in glittering trails as they passed over the plains and rode the dancing breeze.

    There was a name for the creatures and Fritz would know, he¡¯d always had a soft spot for Faerie tales as a youth. Even if his father had tried to dissuade him from his interest in them, saying there were far more real monsters he had better study and that he was wasting his time. Pixies, really!? Maybe I am dreaming, he pinched himself again. Nope, still painful. An immense joy and giddy validation bubbled in his chest, wonder mixed through and it all threatened to burst past his lips in a torrent of laughter. They are real. Real and heading right for you.

    Then caution overrode his elation, he remembered a lot of the tales had ended in, well, less than desirable outcomes. Like being turned it statues for giving offence, or having your memories stripped away in a bargain or any number of bizarre punishments after misstepping according to their unknowable alien customs.

    For every Faerie tale that ended happily for the men or women there was also one that ended horribly. Fritz thought that all the stories, good or ill, had an ominous undertone running through them like they were dancing on a knife''s edge the whole time the Faerie was present on the page. That on getting their ¡®happy ending¡¯ they would smile too wide or be too joyous for it to be anything more than an uncanny performance or hazy everlasting dream.

    Still, the pixies flew towards him, then when they reached him, they danced through the air around him. Their high-pitched voices that sounded like birds or strange insects chirping. They chatted and babbled incomprehensibly as they conversed, sometimes their conversation would be punctuated by fits of shrill giggling. Obviously, they saw him as no threat as they hovered and darted past his head around his body and under the arch of his legs.

    One peculiar pixie hovered a foot in front of his nose, it stood around six inches tall and its tunic was dark grey, much unlike the yellows and oranges of the others. The dark tunic had some sort of heraldry emblazoned on the chest that resembled half of a sunburst in burnished gold. The pixie itself had flowing rose-red hair out of which thin pointed ears protruded and had the slitted eyes of a cat shaded in clover green. He could see needle-like fangs in its mouth as it jabbered imperiously at him and pointed a minute silver spear at Fritz¡¯s eye.

    Fritz assumed the tiny Faerie was giving him an order or demanding something from him in its strange tongue. Not knowing exactly what to do and not wanting to feel the bite of that silver needle or the pixie wielding it for that matter, Fritz improvised. A little bit of deference wouldn¡¯t hurt he suspected. He took one step back and bowed to the pixie and spoke in the most polite tone he could muster, ¡°Oh great Faerie I beseech thy help-¡±

    Their chattering stopped as he reached the word help, then they all parroted it back at him in giggles cry¡¯s and curses. Fritz risked a look up at the spear-carrying pixie, and it smirked at him in cruel satisfaction. ¡°Help,¡± it repeated nodding once then racing away across the plains. The other pixies looked around at each other they¡¯re nervous Fritz judged. That¡¯s if could read pixies at all. In a flash they were flying away, scattering to the winds and chittering in their strange way.

    Left alone in the dim light, Fritz searched to horizon, the treeline and the hills for any sign of, well, anything. Nothing, even the sun hadn¡¯t properly set or risen yet, it still cast that glorious half-light across the land. Odd. But what about this place wasn¡¯t? Fritz decided to keep travelling across the grass. Standing still would get him nowhere and if ¡®help¡¯ was coming he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to meet it, not from the feeling he got from the look on that red-haired pixie¡¯s face.

    Fritz felt he was beginning to get used to the strangeness of the realm that was until he nearly walked face-first into a door that had crept up right in front of his face. The door was dark brown wood with an ivory frame, knocker and decoration. Attached to the door was a manor of that same dark wood and ivory, it was a small manor to be sure, only three stories.

    It was quite unlike some of the sprawling estates in the Upper Ring, but that¡¯s still not something that can just sneak up on someone, even though it just did. It was also far more exquisitely carved and decorated, with flowing arches and columns, its every angle and curve perfect in its elegance and uncanny in its perfection. Fritz shivered, he knew he was in way over his head, this was the dwelling of something powerful, something terrible and something he had to beg help from.

    He gulped knowing he had to knock, to be polite and to keep his wits about him. The Faerie were nothing to trifle with. He reached out to the pale knocker which looked eerily like a human fist suspended upside down, he grasped it and knocked once, twice then a third, final, time. Knowing that like the Spires, Faeries also loved their threes. In fact, that was one of the fringe theories that linked Faeries as one of the peoples who could have built the Spires.

    Trivia later Fritz, keep you¡¯re mind clear, focus on the moment. He told himself as he patted down his ragged clothes, trying to look a little presentable and tucked his fish blade into his belt. He waited for a few minutes, which stretched his nerves, but he knew he shouldn¡¯t leave or knock again, that would be rude and rude was death, or worse. A first test. Just hold out, if you can get them to welcome you can claim their hospitality. And if you can claim their hospitality they might help Bert, they would at least be obligated to do something.

    ¡°Who knocks thrice upon my door?¡± A woman¡¯s voice demanded in a sonorous, sensuous sigh. Though the voice was low, quiet and cool, it made Fritz sweat and his body tingle with heat as it reverberated through his bones. Again, another test. No yelling. No babbling. Wait until she appears before answering.

    Fritz nearly jumped and would have if not for his complete attention to his surroundings, as a small window opened within the door and out flew the red-haired pixie. It looked him up and down, scowled, then trilled out a high warbling whistle that set his teeth on edge.

    ¡°The mortal who begged the help of my seneschal is it?¡± The deep seductive voice called.

    Fritz addressed the pixie in a quiet polite voice, ¡°Please inform your illustrious queen that I request an audience, if that can be arranged for a poor dreg like me?¡±

    The pixie narrowed its eyes suspiciously but turned, flew inside again and closed the small window. He was left there for another minute stewing in fearful apprehension. Will they let me in? is this hopeless? Are they just playing a trick on me? His racing, nervous thoughts were interrupted when the door began to silently swing open.

 Chapter 23

    Fritz hoped he could recall enough and tread lightly around their social traps to, maybe not outmanoeuvre, but gain an advantage with which he could either escape with Bert or heal his friend from his curse. If you needed to break curses who better to seek counsel from than a Faerie? Fritz reflected. He also bemoaned the fact none of his Abilities would be of any use here.

    Must it be a powerful noble to have a manor like this? Or maybe all Faeries had such dwellings? Whatever the case was, it was of utmost importance to be polite, reverent even, if he could manage it.

    Fritz did so walking cautiously through the entrance hall, his boots thudding on the plush purple rug. He winced, he hoped he hadn¡¯t already been rude by tracking dirt into the pristine room. Resolute, he ploughed on ahead dragging Bert behind him the whole while. He stopped at the entrance of the throne room, not willing to go in without express permission, again. ¡®Approach¡¯ did not mean ¡®I will grant you an audience¡¯ after all.

    He hadn¡¯t noticed those talons before, he supposed he wasn¡¯t allowed to notice them before, Faeries were masters of illusions and enchantments after all. But now that he saw them he suspected those nails were razor sharp and would easily part his flesh from his bone. A small but very real threat that if he displeased her those black razor points would find his skin and rend him to pieces.

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    She stared again expectantly, Fritz stood confused for a moment before he concluded that the eyes counted as only one gift. I messed up, I should have split them up or something. Nonsense she would have thought you a miser if you split up one gift into two. It was the right move, Fritz argued with himself.

    She didn¡¯t make to take it and, in fact, looked unimpressed and maybe even insulted. Fritz''s thoughts raced, this was not the outcome he had expected. She seemed to like the story attached to the Quicksilver Swordfish¡¯s eyes almost as much as the eyes themselves, maybe if I add the feats I accomplished with this fang, maybe it might change its worth to her?

    Fritz bowed again, stalling for time to gather his scattered psyche and shake off the haze of craving that still spun his head. One particular notion stood out in his mind, help Bert, it commanded.

    He did, somewhat, the trading of favours was a common thing in the gutters as well, with coin so hard to come by and even harder to keep. A debt in the gutter though might not be repaid, whereas a debt to a Faerie must be lest there be serious consequences, being cursed horribly being the least of the horrors that could be inflicted.

    How much could I give? What will they ask of me? Will it even matter without Bert? Fritz resolved, he knew it was foolish to get embroiled with Faeries and knew he had another choice, to leave and find the way out. But it was a risk, a risk that was a gamble for Bert¡¯s life, one Bert might make on his own if he had a choice but not one Fritz was willing to make for him.

    The song continued, filling him with complex emotions he didn¡¯t have the wherewithal to fully suppress, so he wept silently. He heard a new note, a surprising uplifting melody joined the Duskmoth¡¯s song, a song, he realised, that was half a duet. The joyful refrain built and built until the song seemed to be only two conflicting chords opposing each other but then melded and struck such a beautiful harmony he was left reeling, stunned, falling.

    They clung to each other tightly, like a day lit tree with a dark vine growing on its shadowed trunk. He could see the bright woman¡¯s wings unfurl, two great bird wings with feathers of cascading yellow and orange. As they intertwined he could see their differences in stark relief. The glowing woman was muscular where the Duskmoth was slender, tall where she was short and life as the other was death. Beginning and End.

    ¡°You ask for help for your friend and not for yourself? And you bargained a favour to my darling Duskmoth?¡± She asked intrigued.

 Chapter 24

    The Dawndove kneeled at Bert¡¯s side, a grim expression on her exquisite features as she inspected his wounds. She nodded once.

    ¡°The curse is not particularly potent but it is persistent, it would interfere with the most basic of healing magic and the personal healing of a low Powered mortal. And there¡¯s something else, a lingering trace of corruption, of blight, in his blood.¡± She explained in resplendent tones.

    ¡°He¡¯s on the brink of life and death at this very moment, and he fights. Why do you fight?¡± She asked Bert, tilting her head towards his bloodstained lips, listening to some whisper Fritz couldn¡¯t catch.

    The Dawndove must have liked his answer because she smiled warmly like a ray of sunlight breaking over the horizon.

    ¡°Verily, I say to you, go forth and fight. Your cause is righteous in mine eyes,¡± She leant back from his face and blew breath from her lips, it swirled with gleaming motes and lines of golden power. The floral air was cut with the scent of morning dew and pine, purity and new vigour seemed to permeate Fritz¡¯s tired body. The breath of life clashed with some previously hidden darkness that now lay revealed upon Bert¡¯s stab wounds.

    Fritz saw what he thought was the curse, dark energies roiled and trembled, then faded, blown away by the light and air. The Dawndove sagged a little, some of her glowing aura dissipated from her expenditure. She reached out an ivory finger and lightly placed it upon Bert¡¯s forehead, it glowed for a moment then faded away into his skin.

    She stood and turned to Fritz, ¡°The curse is broken, the corruption suppressed, he is back from the brink, but will need more than my gift to heal fully. Take him to a healer as quick as you may, you have three hours at most before he¡¯s back at death''s door,¡± She warned gravely but not unkindly as she smiled at him.

    ¡°They¡¯re here from a Spire, my love, if he gets to a ¡®Well Room¡¯ I believe they call it, then he¡¯ll be fine,¡± The Duskmoth replied, twitching her wings.

    ¡°Then get him to the ¡®Well Room¡¯ then,¡± The Dawndove agreed easily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose your hospitality extends to leading us to the Door out of your realm?¡± Fritz asked politely, shuffling awkwardly under the alien stares of the two Faeries.

    The Dawndove grinned wide, while the Duskmoth¡¯s smile fell into a thin line.

    ¡°Did the Mortal Fritz trick you into giving hospitality!?¡± The Dawndove exclaimed turning to look at her darling''s expression. ¡°He did, didn¡¯t he!¡± The towering woman guffawed heartily.

    The line of the Duskmoth¡¯s mouth turned into an annoyed scowl ¡°Yes, he got me! He came in all beaten bloody and pulling his broken companion. The first Mortal in this realm for hundreds of years, how was I to know they still remembered some of the customs or would have the wits to use them,¡± She argued her voice more growl than purr.

    Fritz coughed politely interrupting, again. The Duskmoth calmed herself immediately only giving the Dawndove a glare when she chuckled at her obvious embarrassment. She glared at Fritz and gave a chilly smile, ¡°Yes, my seneschal shall show you the way out of my realm, let us not dally with tearful goodbyes. I¡¯ll find you when I need you to do my favour.¡±

    ¡°Amy, ready a carriage we won''t have Bert and Fritz trudging around our realm like peasants when they are such prestigious and esteemed guests.¡± She ordered rapidly. Her manner was brusque as if she wanted Fritz and Bert out as quick as possible.

    There was a warbling response that Fritz couldn¡¯t understand but was sure was an affirmative. ¡°If you¡¯ll follow after me?¡± The Duskmoth declared, turning and walking to the entrance hall from which Fritz entered. He made to pick up Bert but the Dawndove shook her head ¡°Let me, you¡¯re exhausted Fritz,¡± she lifted the limp Bert easily as if he weighed less than a pillow.

    The huge ivory woman strode after the Duskmoth, near leering at her slender retreating form. Fritz couldn¡¯t blame her, they were both beautiful and shapely but of the two the Duskmoth had the most appeal to him, he couldn¡¯t say why though. Bert would prefer the Dawndove though and he¡¯d argue with me about incessantly, he idly mused as he followed behind.

    He followed out the throne room, out the entrance hall and to the manor''s front door. Outside waiting just for him and Bert was a resplendent carriage of grey-silver wood, finer and more elegant than any he had ever seen even when he had lived in the Upper Ring as a child. Its shape reminded Fritz of a flower bud waiting to bloom. The carriage was being pulled by an enormous black hare with a set of bone-coloured antlers that met Fritz¡¯s astonished eye with a deep purple stare.

    ¡°What you ain¡¯t never seen a carriage before?¡± The huge black bunny in front of him remarked in a low booming voice, treating Fritz like some ignorant plebeian.

    ¡°No,¡± Fritz said defensively, so shocked by its speech that he turned monosyllabic.

    ¡°Muddy mortals,¡± The hare said derisively shaking its gigantic head, sweeping its great antlers and bouncing its massive floppy ears.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough Geraldo,¡± The Duskmoth said curtly to the hare.

    ¡°Of course Princess,¡± Geraldo replied, grumpily flicking one dangling ear in agitation.

    Amy, the seneschal darted into view gliding on her gossamer wings and opened the carriage door with surprising strength for such a small size. The Dawndove nodded to the tiny pixie in thanks. She lay the unconscious Bert into the carriage''s plush violet and lavender silk interior, then motioned for Fritz to get in after. He strode up to the carriage thanking the Spires that it was almost over, that he was almost off the knife¡¯s edge.

    He had a foot on the grey-silver carriage step when the Duskmoth¡¯s voice purred in his ear, ¡°Before you go, Fritz, turn around.¡± He did as he was told and found himself face to face with the Duskmoth, if he had time he could have counted all her silver freckles. She grasped his cheeks with her palms, bent his head forward, and lay her lips upon his forehead kissing him sweetly. Her lips were indescribably soft and left a cool tingle as they brushed his skin then suddenly the sensation was gone.

    Her hands left his face and she floated backwards on her sunset patterned wings, she waved her hand and he was drawn into the carriage, the door shutting rapidly in his face. He parted the doors lavender curtains apart and stared out the window to see the two Faeries holding hands and waving goodbye with bright smiles on their faces.

    After a high whistle, the carriage lurched and began to speed away from the manor and the Faeries, it was a surprisingly smooth ride considering it was being pulled by a huge, hopping hare. The outside blurred as they picked up speed and Fritz sank into the luxurious seat opposite Bert as he lay stretched on his own plush purple bench. He settled in, embracing the comfort provided and was lulled to sleep in moments by the subtle rocking movement of the carriage.

    ---

    Sid ran ahead of Vee, Lynn and Naomi leading the way toward the blue-green lights. There had been no conversation or even begging for a rest from Naomi since they had left Fritz behind. Sid felt guilty, and she knew why. If Sid didn¡¯t ask Fritz to help her get the girl¡¯s Paths there would have been more Doors for them to take, they wouldn¡¯t have had to abandon the two men.

    She worried at her scarlet scarf, pulling on one of its loose threads and knowing she¡¯d have to fix it later. For now, she took comfort from its soft wool the thick strands warm as they passed through her fingers. She stumbled on a fissure, cursing and throwing her hand out before her for a fall that didn¡¯t come. ¡°Get your mind on the job, Sid,¡± she chided herself pulling her hand free of the scarf''s warmth.

    The thing she should be worried about and was keeping an eye out for was the hammer man she had let escape, he was probably too hurt to do anything with that hole in his gut. But if he had a potion or an Ability to heal they might be in trouble. Especially if he got to the doors before them.

    The blue-green light grew larger and more defined, now taking the shape of Doorways as they travelled the broken plains. Finally, after almost five minutes of running the lull in talking ceased, ¡°How... much...further?¡± Naomi whined pathetically. Naomi was always the softest of us, probably because her sister dotes on her, Sid thought unusually bitter. She shouldn¡¯t be here, Fritz should, you¡¯re just dead weight. Sid remembered Fritz and Naomi¡¯s awkward hug and felt that same pang of anger she had when it happened.

    ¡°Not... much¡­ longer¡­ five¡­ more¡­ minutes,¡± puffed out Sid pulling her hand away from her scarf again as it had instinctively gone to the fabric when she thought about Fritz. Strange that, it was something she had almost choked him to death with after all.

    ¡°Five.. more¡­¡± Naomi heaved out, speaking to herself, keeping up the pace as best she could.

    The four Doors got ever closer, and still there was no sign of the hammer man, eventually with much effort and struggling over the rough stone, they reached the Doorways. The Doors were cut into the stone and a veil of blue-green light shimmered over the thresholds.

    They stood gasping or bent over near vomiting from the stress of the run, even their enhanced Endurance couldn¡¯t seem to keep up with the strain they had been put through quite yet.

    ¡°Get through the Doors!¡± Sid yelled through her parched throat. ¡°Now!¡­ Rest on the other side.¡±

    The women looked around blearily but each set themselves in front of a Door, then stepped through. Sid Stood before her own turned and searched the shattered stone plains for any sign of Fritz or Bert. Nothing. She knew there wouldn¡¯t be and it was for the best, after all, that she didn¡¯t.

    Sid didn¡¯t want to have to fight him for survival, not again, but she knew she would have, she would have put the idiot boy down if it meant she could live. Why am I feeling so guilty about it? I¡¯ve done plenty of terrible things to survive that don¡¯t bother me at all. Why him? Why now? That the things she did didn¡¯t bother her at all was something of a lie, but she fought her conscience, wrestling it back down. Reign or be rained upon.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    She spun furiously and stepped through the blue-green Doorway. Blue-green light engulfed her sight and she got a strange metallic taste in her mouth, much like the monster fish meat. Then she was in a room the with same coloured stone as the previous floor, except it was unmarred and smooth as glass.

    The room was scattered with plinths of smooth stone and piles of broken stone on top or around them. The broken stone it seemed were shattered statues, statues of what she couldn¡¯t say but she definitely saw a carved human hand amongst the rubble.

    ¡°What took you so long?¡± Lynn asked with a teasing glitter in her burgundy eyes ¡°Waiting for Fritz?¡±

    Sid looked away from the woman¡¯s face and Naomi sniffled at the comment and Vee gave Lynn a reproachful slap on the shoulder. What she had said and then the reality of Fritz and Bert¡¯s fate sunk her face turned ashen.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it, I-uh, sorry.¡± Lynn apologised to the room at large.

    Sid sighed taking in the rest of the room, it seemed the plinths and pedestals had held up statues but most of the statues had crumbled or been broken. Some, however, stood undamaged and whole, statues of¡­ them, she realised. One was Sid standing tall with bow drawn, one was Vee''s shield and fin blade in hand. Naomi¡¯s was similar to Vee¡¯s and Lynn¡¯s was just Lynn standing straight-backed, hands clasped behind her.

    The unbroken statues radiated the Well Power, she could feel it pulling on her like she pulled on the threads of her scarf. She walked slowly towards her own statue her gaze locked on it. The carving was impeccable, but who she saw there wasn¡¯t actually her, it was a better her, who she wanted to be and the Power to make it true.

    She placed her hand on her carved knee and Power surged through her hand, up her arm, into her chest and into her sanctum, the wind inside her roaring in triumph.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± She said as the tiredness, scrapes and cuts from the run across the plains, was blown away by the Power soaring through her body. She turned to see the other girls also touching their respective statues and grinning in relief and revelling in their Power.

    Sid sat down hard, arranged her position into one of relaxation, back against her statue''s plinth. Then she sunk into her sanctum riding the winds of her spirit.

    She landed softly on the hill and gazed out at the great rolling plains of golden grass that was her sanctum, she felt the breeze, the countless winds that all met here on this golden hill. She could feel the Power on the new winds that roared across her sanctum and she guided them over her and her hill.

    ---------

    Path

    Choose One

    ---------

    Archer

    Bow bent, arrow flys, nock again, foe dies.

    A user of bows, rain arrows on your enemies from a distance with great precision.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Strength, Agility, Endurance, Perception.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Grace, Reflex.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You killed many goblins with bow and arrow.

    You fought with a bow and arrow against fellow climbers.

    You landed four arrows into a monster¡¯s vulnerable point.

    ---

    Shanker

    Skulk in alleys, stalk your prey, brandish daggers, stab away.

    A specialist in stealth, daggers and other small blades.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Strength, Agility, Endurance, Perception.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Speed, Reflex.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    ¡®Shanked¡¯ a fellow climber.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    Air Elementalist

    Call and cast, winds and sky, gust or gale, fall or fly.

    A mage with abilities that call upon elemental air for summoning or wielding the wind.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Agility, Perception, Focus, Memory.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Control, Essence of Air.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You used the Wind Strike Ability to kill many goblins.

    You used the Wind Strike Ability on more than one type of weapon.

    You used the Wind Strike Ability on a fellow climber.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait

    Choose One

    ---------

    Cutting Wind

    Winds slicing sharper, than daggers or knives, Invisible blades, severing lives.

    Adds a cutting effect to Air attacks and Abilities also passively increases their sharpness and penetration to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Air, Blade.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive, Suppressible.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Used Wind Strike Ability to great effect.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    Scapegoat

    Don¡¯t look over here, it was him not me! Blame all the others, so that you can flee.

    Make your target think someone else is the source of your next attack or Ability.

    Alignment: Mind.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Strike: Three seconds, Affliction: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: Nine minutes.

    ---

    Influenced by Spire.

    Abandoned fellow climbers: Fritz and Bert.

    ---

    Heart of Air

    Wind swirls in your centre, both hollow and blurred, like the heart of a zephyr, and as free as a bird.

    Activate and align nine points to the following Advanced Attributes: Grace, Essence of Air.

    Align nine points to the following Attributes: Agility, Endurance.

    Alignment: Air.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Used Wind Strike Ability to great effect.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    Influenced by Air Aligned Abilities (Wind Strike, Fleet).

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    What a lot of choices, far too many, she couldn¡¯t make up her mind right now, she needed to mull it over. So she flew out of her trance and back into the aching world of the Spire. These choices were to shape the rest of her entire life so she should take it slow and really think it out, no rash choices here.

    Though if she were being truthful two of the choices seemed to call for her, both marked with the Influenced by Sanctum explanation. Though there were another two that had her scowling and scratching her head. I ¡®Shanked¡¯ someone and abandoned Fritz and Bert, Really? Is even my Sanctum trying to blame me? Or is this a trick of the Spire?

    There was also one last choice, one that depended on the path she chose. So it looks like I should choose a Path first, then see what choices that gives me, then pick a good synergistic pair of Abilities. When she had first come across the word synergistic it took her some time to learn how to read it and what it meant, now though she liked saying it. So she did so, quietly of course.

    There was a crack, then a rumbling from one of the whole statues. Sid recognised it as the hammer man''s image set in stone. A fissure ran down its middle then it fell into jagged pieces shattering on the ground in a series of loud thumps and cracks. She stared in shock, horror creeping into her tight chest. Did he just die, is that what these statues represent?

    Sid spun her head searching for Fritz and Bert¡¯s statues. She found them easily and just as in real life, they stood together and on the same pedestal. Sid almost rolled her eyes at that saccharine little detail. It was bittersweet, thinking that at least those two got to die together, that they wouldn¡¯t be alone at the end. Like she was.

    She wandered before the statues, looking up at Fritz¡¯s handsome face and self-satisfied smile, formed perfectly in the stone. Then to Bert¡¯s grin and rugged features, whatever had carved this couldn¡¯t catch that wild light in his eyes though. Nor the strange air of mad hope that Fritz carried around with him. The presence and purpose to not only say the impossible was possible but then to also prove it.

    Sid sighed, chest aching, and sat again, watching for Vee, Lynn and Naomi to wake from their Sanctums. Lynn came out first, grumbling something about, ¡°Dumb Path choices.¡±

    Next to resurface was Vee, and she smiled joyously and began talking excitedly about her, ¡°Dancer Path¡± and all the great Abilities she chose, Sid tuned her out, not really caring about the details. She had her own Path to contemplate and she wasn¡¯t much closer to her choices.

    Last was Naomi who gave a reserved smile and confirmed she got a herbalist Path, where she had found time to pick herbs was anyone''s guess. Maybe it was Sanctum Influenced like Air Elementalist or Cutting Wind? That was the more likely reason Sid suspected. The girl chatted amiably, excitedly and began even laughing and speculating on all the things they could do when they left. When they left.

    Sid''s heart sank at that thought, she had expected to climb alone when she started the Spire, but now she felt it would be lonely. Not to mention wildly dangerous without someone looking out for you, something she had already begun to take for granted. She sighed and joined the girls, chatting with them and taking the time to loosen her chest bindings and remove her breastplate. No one here but us girls right, no more need to hide.

    The talk continued hopes were shared, and they spoke about their future.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be a great Dancer, maybe I¡¯ll even get to perform in the upper ring,¡± Vee said hopefully.

    ¡°I can be your bodyguard and maybe have a couple of prizefights here or there, my Brawler Path will be good for that at least,¡± Lynn added with a lazy shrug and a confident grin.

    ¡°My sister will be shocked but mighty pleased with a Herbalist to help out,¡± Naomi beamed.

    They turned to Sid smiling, ¡°I don¡¯t know what to pick just yet, but I¡¯m gonna climb the rest of the way, to the top of this Spire, even if it kills me,¡± Sid said defiantly. They kept on smiling at her but he could see cracks in their facades, they were worried and would try and talk her out of it. So she headed them off saying.¡°No, you can¡¯t change my mind, but do any of you want to come?¡±

    They couldn¡¯t meet her eyes they shook heads, looked away and muttered apologies. Sid had been expecting it but it still stung a little.

    ¡°It was bad enough getting this far,¡± Vee said placatingly, Lynn and Naomi nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Thanks for helping us get this far, do you have anyone on the outside that you want us to contact or watch over?¡± Naomi asked timidly.

    ¡°No, just you guys really, oh and Tallie,¡± Sid said shaking her head ¡°You can tell her I¡¯m gonna make it to the top of a Spire, Golden Climb.¡±

    ¡°You can tell her that yourself,¡± Lynn said slapping Sid on the back, then pulling her into a hug. The rest seeing their chance all piled in on the hug and began to sob. Sid cracked and started weeping, mostly from relief, the pent-up stress and horror of the floor she suspected, but it was also sad leaving friends even if it was only for a short while.

    After their crying stopped they parted wiping their red eyes, even Lynn seemed to have joined in the communal cry, much to Sid¡¯s surprise. They said a final goodbye and they left through the exit Door, taking the stairs down and disappearing from Sid¡¯s vision.

    Sid sighed and made her way to the Fritzbert statue, ¡°Stupid name,¡± she mumbled to herself. She sat in front of the stone effigy and pondered her Path, Abilities and Attributes. Before she could come to a decision she dozed off. It was to be expected, she was exhausted. So she slept.

    ---

    ¡°I thought you said you wouldn¡¯t wait for me, Sid?¡±

 Chapter 25

    The world lurched and Fritz woke, this was one of the better ways to wake. What with the luxurious conditions of the carriage but also the fact he wasn¡¯t in immediate danger. He hoped. Stretching into the suitably soft seat. He groaned as his aches from the day¡¯s battles and challenges reasserted themselves painfully.

    ¡°Oi, get out! We¡¯re here!¡± yelled the beast pulling the carriage, his booming tones jolting Fritz out of his stupor. Fritz looked around blearily, not knowing how long he had slept. It must have been a couple of hours considering how refreshed he felt, even if he was more than a little beat up.

    The carriage door swung open letting in the dim light from the eternally setting sun. Fritz got to his feet gingerly, then steadied himself. He took inventory of his equipment, making sure he had everything he came with. It was all there, save his gifts to the Duskmoth. Then he eyed Bert, he was paler than he had been but his breath was definitely that of rest not struggle.

    Fritz sighed in relief, reassured that Bert was okay, for now. He grabbed his sacks and bags and affixed them, then he slung Bert over his back and brought him down the carriage steps. The last step was lower than the previous ones and jolted Fritz as he took it. He froze as he heard Bert grunt in pain.

    Setting his shoulders and staring ahead he determined to leave this realm as soon as he could, he couldn¡¯t wait for his friend to be back and free of pain. He looked around the dense grey forest he found himself in, turned to speak to the grumbling Geraldo.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the Door?¡± Fritz asked.

    The horrible hare rolled its eyes at him, causing Fritz¡¯s eye to twitch.

    ¡°Muddy mortals. Can¡¯t see what¡¯s right in front of them,¡± Geraldo grumbled.

    Fritz searched the trees, looking for the outline of a Door in their bark.

    ¡°You could try looking down, if your mortal pride could bear it,¡± The hare added.

    Fritz did so, suppressing the urge to yell at the great, dumb rabbit. There on the ground about ten feet away was a familiar circle of luminescent lavender mushroom tendrils. How were we ever meant to find this? The Spire really didn¡¯t want us to survive at all, Fritz griped inwardly.

    Staggering forward Fritz heard a low complaint from behind.

    ¡°Not even a ¡®thank you¡¯, muddy mortals.¡±

    ¡°Thank you! Oh, great Geraldo!¡± Fritz called over his shoulder, ¡°I hope you are eaten by an eagle, then fed to its eagle babies, you muddy mole,¡± he added in a whisper.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a mole, look nothing like one,¡± Geraldo responded rapidly. Fritz smirked knowing he¡¯d annoyed the creature with his inane comparison.

    ¡°Sounds like something a muddy mole would say,¡± Fritz said in a sing-song manner as he stood within the glowing circle. He could feel that cool gelatinous feeling on his skin again so he shut his eyes and strode forward. He heard Geraldo yell something out but it was rendered into garbled nonsense as he strode both one step and countless miles.

    He stepped up into a stone room, the same colour as the stone from the third floor. He didn¡¯t pay much attention to that though, he searched hard for the Well, his eyes jumping from plinth to plinth, seeing all the shattered remains of statues. He saw whole statues of Sid, Veronica, Toby, Jane, Lynn, Naomi then his own and right next to it on the same pedestal Bert¡¯s.

    Fritz pushed forward, the last stretch. He reached the pedestal, grabbed Bert¡¯s hand and placed it upon the statue that depicted Bert. The Power left the idol, poured into Bert, Fritz could feel it. He lay Bert down and Fritz put his hand on his chest. Watching his still-open wounds. ¡°Come on heal,¡± He whispered.

    When nothing happened Fritz began to worry, dread again pooling up in his chest, making him feel heavy, about to drown. ¡°Damn it,¡± He hissed. He felt the Power chanting in Bert¡¯s chest, waiting to be used. Fritz tried to wake his friend, tried to get him to use the Power. But he didn¡¯t stir, maybe he was worse off than I suspected? Was I too slow? Is he still going to die? Is there nothing I can do?

    Fritz tried again to wake Bert, slapping him, splashing the last of his water over his face. The only change was Bert¡¯s breath getting weaker, slower. Fritz returned his hand to his friend''s chest and could feel the Power there, could hear some sort of chanting. He listened, trying to pick out the words.

    He titled and lay his head on Bert¡¯s chest, listening with all his might. Just a little close and I could-

    The room spun and he was pulled down in a familiar sensation, but he wasn¡¯t being drawn down into his own sanctum. No he was falling, falling into Bert. He hit the ground hard, throwing up a small cloud of sand. He looked around bewildered, no longer in the rubble-filled Well Room. He was in some sort of stadium, blurry faceless people crowded in tall stands of pale stone. They chanted uproariously.

    ¡°Al-Bert! Al-Bert! Al-Bert!¡± They cried, screamed and yelled.

    Albert, that''s why he was here, looking for Albert. Fritz spun, glancing through the stands. No, not there idiot. Fritz angrily thought, turning his searching eyes to the sandy arena floor and spotting a beaten and bloody body in its centre. He sprinted to the body''s side and saw what he expected. A barely recognisable Bert, covered in bruises, blood and broken skin.

    He touched the body and felt, resistance? ¡°Bert, It¡¯s me, It¡¯s Fritz.,¡± He yelled over the crowd. He thought he could feel stirring, and the resistance faded and a light flashed before his eyes. That same glyphic language from his own Sanctum.

    It read: ¡°ALBERT IS CURRENTLY INCAPABLE OF CHOICE. FRITZ IS GRANTED ACCESS TO CHOOSE FOR ALBERT. PLEASE DIRECT CHOICES.¡±

    Stunned Fritz just blurted out, ¡°Anything that stops him from dying.¡±

    ¡°CHOICE REGISTERED. CHOICE CONFIRMED BY ALBERT. CHOICE ACCEPTED BY SANCTUM. APPLYING CHOICES.¡±

    The crowd roared louder and louder, building to a deafening crescendo. Fritz was yanked hard into the pale blue sky, the stone area swirled below him and he found himself thrown out of where he just was.

    Coming to, he found he was sweating, his head pounded as he raised it off of Bert¡¯s chest. He let himself hope as he looked to Bert¡¯s stab wounds. He grinned. Bert¡¯s wounds had sealed, his paleness was fading, and he was breathing deeply, powerfully. Fritz took that moment to weep silently, holding his shirt sleeves over his leaking eyes and nose.

    He let himself feel the fear and stress piled up from Bert¡¯s wounding, then he let it melt away as he revelled in his triumph. He pulled it off, the impossibility of what he had gone through really sunk in then and he nearly whooped in joy. Still, he sat in quiet until he had full control of his dulled faculties and wild emotions.

    Fritz registered a soft snoring from behind the statue''s pedestal, a snoring he thought he recognised. The tears stopped and his grin reapplied itself. He crept around the statue''s base as quiet as a mouse. Spotting a sleeping Sid. He¡¯s so cute when he¡¯s sleeping, Fritz mused, then frowned, where did that come from?

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Fritz sat, cleared his throat and made sure he had no tears or snot running down his face then said in his best serious tone, ¡°I thought you said you wouldn¡¯t wait for me, Sid?¡±

    Sid sat up startled, stared around in a daze, saw Fritz, squeaked, then wrapped his arm around his chest. His strangely busty chest, Fritz frowned again. Feeling he was on the cusp of unravelling some sort of grand secret.

    ¡°Fritz, don¡¯t go sneaking up on me like that!¡± Sid yelled in an unusually high tone. Then his jaw dropped. He seemed to have realised the fact that Fritz was here when he should be trapped on the previous floor was unusual or rather, impossible.

    ¡°How?¡± Sid near whispered unbelieving looking at him in wonder.

    ¡°Hidden Door, met some Faeries, then rode a carriage here. Simple stuff really,¡± Fritz responded offhandedly.

    ¡°A Hidden Door. Of course,¡± Sid spat, ¡°Spire lied to us.¡±

    ¡°It technically didn¡¯t, but basically yeah,¡± Fritz agreed grin sliding off his face as he remembered the despair he had felt when he thought himself trapped. Shaking himself out of that rut quickly he put on a serious face and asked the question that had now been burning at him for the past minute.

    ¡°Sid¡­ are you perchance... a woman?¡±

    Sid groaned, confirming his accusation. Fritz smirked and nodded in commiseration.

    ¡°What¡¯s it to you, Fritz,¡± She eventually replied abandoning her gruff, manly voice.

    ¡°Nothing, nothing at all,¡± Fritz smugly smiled, relieved he didn¡¯t have to do any introspection on his strange reactions to Sid.

    Sid searched his face, then glared at him with her pretty blue eyes, ¡°You''re an idiot, Fritz.¡±

    ¡°He is. A complete moron.¡± Bert¡¯s voice called out heartily.

    Fritz grinned with joy, happy to finally hear his best friend''s voice again. Bert walked around the corner to join them, cradling his wounded side.

    ¡°I uncovered a well-hidden secret. How am I a moron exactly?¡± Fritz questioned.

    ¡°Are you being serious, Fritz? You only just figured out that Sid was a woman?¡± Bert asked concern writ plain over his face.

    ¡°You knew?¡± Sid asked incredulously.

    ¡°I thought everyone knew, the scarf is a dead giveaway,¡± Bert remarked sitting down and giving a small yawn.

    Sid and Fritz¡¯s eyes met bewildered.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz asked confused.

    ¡°It¡¯s made of wool. Women love wool,¡± Bert explained as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

    Sid and Fritz''s glances met again as if to see if either of them had heard this particular factoid. They both shook their heads slightly one after the other.

    ¡°Bert... I¡¯m wearing wool, my pants are wool,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Well, Fritz, you¡¯ve never been the most manly of men,¡± Bert condescended, rifling through his pack and pulling out a portion of smoked fish meat.

    ¡°Bert... your pants are wool too,¡± Fritz added in annoyance.

    Bert froze for a moment, his hand stopping before he put the smoked fish in his mouth. He glanced between the two, smiled an infuriating smile, shrugged and said, ¡°I was still right.¡± Bert chomped down on his rations, eating like a starving man.

    Sid and Fritz sat in disbelief, then burst out laughing.

    ¡°What!?¡± Bert said through a mouthful of fish.

    ¡°I take it back, you¡¯re both idiots,¡± Sid said through her laughter.

    ¡°And I¡¯m also hungry, give me some of that swordfish,¡± Fritz demanded. Bert complied handing him some, Fritz tore it in half and offered some to Sid who took it gratefully.

    They ate in quiet, giggling often hitting them in small fits out of nowhere. Then Sid asked, ¡°Faeries huh?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Fritz replied eloquently. Then seeing Bert¡¯s keen interest and Sid¡¯s dogged determination, he summarised what had happened past the Hidden Door. He played it down as best he could but he still found himself explaining it like it were a dream. It felt like one and some events were strangely cloudy in his memory.

    ¡°So you got a princess to blow me while I was dying, is that what you¡¯re saying?¡± Bert asked, suggestively waggling his eyebrows.

    Sid laughed in shock and disgust while Fritz merely smiled politely at the vulgar inference then continued his tale. He ended his story on the strangeness he had experienced in what he guessed was Bert¡¯s Sanctum. He withheld the details of its appearance because that sort of stuff was private and he didn¡¯t know if Bert wanted him to tell Sid about it.

    ¡°That explains it,¡± Bert said after a moment of awkward silence after Fritz finished telling the story. ¡°It was dark, I think I was dying, something was there asking if I trusted Fritz, I must have said yes, ''cause here I am.¡±

    ¡°What Powers did you choose for me, Fritz?¡± Bert asked, not at all put out.

    ¡°I uh. I don¡¯t know I just said I didn¡¯t want you to die,¡± Fritz admitted embarrassed.

    ¡°Awww,¡± Sid said unhelpfully.

    ¡°Then I was thrown out, and your Sanctum said the choices had been applied,¡± Fritz shrugged.

    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to dive into my sanctum to find out,¡± Bert said apprehension and excitement ringing in his voice.

    ¡°What about you Sid? You¡¯ve been here longer than us, what did you choose?¡± Fritz asked changing the subject.

    ¡°Uh, I haven¡¯t chosen yet, I fell asleep thinking over my choices,¡± Sid explained worry falling over her features.

    ¡°Hmm, tell you what, I¡¯ll go get my Powers and we can work out some choices together,¡± Fritz offered.

    ¡°Do you still want to climb together, after I¡­ after I left you?¡± Sid asked worry shading her face even further.

    Fritz cleared his throat and recited in his clear tones,

    ¡°Brightest blue eyes, burning like fire,

    Great in a scrap, when the fighting gets dire.

    Handy with blades, and mighty with bow,

    Fire off some arrows and lay our foes low.

    Strong in both body, magic and mind,

    The staunchest of allies, I sought to find.

    To sing all your merits, would take far too long,

    That¡¯s why I give you a poem, instead of a song.

    With all your help, we will surely climb higher,

    Sid would you join us, for the rest of the Spire.¡±

    Fritz decided the poem was worth it just for the delight on Sid¡¯s face, Bert looked on amused as Sid gave some small applause.

    ¡°Well?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Oh! Yes, I guess the poem was¡­ adequate¡­ or good,¡± Sid beamed, then buried her blushing face into her scarf.

    Bert chuckled at her embarrassment but didn¡¯t see fit to tease her further.

    ¡°Right, I¡¯m going to see what I got,¡± Bert announced, ¡°If it''s terrible I¡¯ll blame Fritz.¡±

    Bert¡¯s eyes became unfocused as he dived into his Sanctum, and Fritz decided this was as good a time as ever to absorb his Power from his stone facsimile. He slapped his hand to his statue''s thigh and felt the cold light enter him through his palm. It blazed up his arm and into his chest, filling his centre and burning with icy heat.

    Then he descended, pulled down into the cold star next to his heart. His feet met the muddy ground and rain drizzled over him. He thought the place looked the same as when he left it until he saw the pavilion, it had changed. The wood was less white and more silver and the blue had been replaced with shades of lavender. Its structure while familiar had strange new carvings on its arches and columns and the graceful curves had been imbued with a certain alien elegance and smoothness.

    His first reaction was one of outrage, fury that his Sanctum had been tampered with, that he had been defiled, his precious memories stolen away. Fritz strode over, ready to tear the mockery to pieces with his bare hands when he noticed that it still bore the many scars it had accumulated in its past life. Turning his gaze upon it in a new light he saw it was the same pavilion, just changed, touched by his time in the Hidden Realm of Twilight.

    Much like himself, he realised. Did he really think that after all he experienced he would stay the same? A great part of him still hated the idea, rejected the change, he wanted to burn the thing away and build a new one. But the better part of him knew that this was for the best, all things change and he should embrace it not fight it. It. Was. A. Struggle.

    Sighing, breathing out the pain, Fritz let the anger fall from his marching steps and instead walked to meet the changed pavilion with an open mind. He paced under the pavilion''s roof and searched its walls, broken furniture and books. It was mostly the same inside, some of the chairs were a little less smashed and the lunch table stood dented and slashed but not shattered into pieces as it had been.

    A memory restored? Was it a gift? Or a taunt? What was it? All he knew was that it brought tears to his eyes as he ran his hand over its abused wood. How bittersweet this is, a gift then. He allowed himself the feeling for a couple of moments longer, then turned his attention to his objective, to the power currently circling within his Sanctum. He basked in its light and felt the choices burn before him.

    ---------

    Path

    Choose One

    ---------

    Scout

    See the sights, count the threads, listen closely, threats ahead.

    Lead your team safely through hazards both natural and monstrous, warn them of dangers and spot vulnerabilities.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Agility, Endurance, Perception, Memory.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Awareness, Reflex.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You discovered and disarmed many traps.

    You discovered a Treasure Chest.

    You have discovered foes before they discovered you.

    You have led your team through difficult terrain.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    ---

    Spy

    A face of masks, cool and calm, speak in whispers, wound with charm.

    Both stealthy and observant the spy waits and watches for weakness.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Agility, Perception, Focus, Memory.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Awareness, Control.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You have discovered and disarmed many traps.

    You have discovered foes before they discovered you.

    You have attempted to be stealthy and have succeeded more often than not.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    You have used your considerable charm to get your way.

    You have treated with Faeries.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    ---

    Sneak

    Scamper silent, to and fro, elusive action, be shadow.

    A specialist in stealth and remaining hidden.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Strength, Agility, Endurance, Perception.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Grace, Reflex.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You attempted to be stealthy and were successful more often than not.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait

    Choose One

    ---------

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    You can discern information about what lurks behind a Door and its likely threats to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have chosen three Doors.

    You discovered and traversed a Hidden Door.

    ---

    Challengers Cry

    Hark you mongrels! Flee you knaves! I am your death, these are your graves.

    Challenge foes forcing them to attack you, foes may be stricken with fear.

    Alignment: Mind, Sound.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Six seconds.

    Refresh: One minute.

    ---

    You stood in defence of fellow climbers.

    You taunted fellow climbers

    You challenged fellow climbers.

    Influenced by Technique Arte Pugilist.

    ---

    Shade¡¯s Rest

    Hide in secret, out of sight, sleep in shadow, mend in night.

    While in the dark or when under deep shadows increase health recovery to a small degree.

    Alignment: Shadow, Life.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have rested in a dark place to recover from wounds.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    Influenced by Technique ¡°The Observations¡±

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz pumped his fists mentally when he found Scout as one of his Path choices. He hurriedly pulled himself out of his Sanctum so he didn¡¯t get carried away and pick it right then and there. With the new information and also some new questions he returned to see Bert almost bouncing to tell Fritz and Sid what Abilities he got.

    ¡°That good where they?¡± Fritz inquired sceptically, knowing anything Bert thought was good was probably something others would find completely insane.

    ¡°Oh, yes, my dearest friend and saviour,¡± Bert said in a show of over-the-top gratitude. ¡°Let me regale you.¡±

 Chapter 26

    ¡°I am a wizard,¡± Bert said projecting honesty, but Fritz could see the telltale creases in the corners of his eyes that warned him to disregard everything he said as lies. Sid gasped, not being able to read Bert¡¯s trickery.

    ¡°You got access to an Arcane Path? Aren¡¯t they impossibly rare unless you climb the Tower Arcane and are very lucky, or meet a whole lot of hidden prerequisites?¡± Sid asked awed. Fritz stared at her in bafflement, she couldn¡¯t be falling for this obvious lie.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve heard of that have you?¡± Bert asked rhetorically, before giving a sly grin. ¡°Yes the very same, the much sought after Arcane Path had been opened to me, its renowned Power instills me with a great destiny.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not a wizard, don¡¯t fall for this truly stupid performance,¡± Fritz said in exasperation.

    ¡°I am a Wizard,¡± Bert said unwilling to give up his ruse just yet.

    ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± Fritz countered.

    ¡°I am,¡± Bert stated.

    ¡°Prove it,¡± Fritz demanded.

    ¡°Can¡¯t. A Wizard¡¯s secrets are not for the likes of sneak-thieves like you, Fritz,¡± Bert asserted aggravatingly.

    ¡°Very well then oh wise wizard, I suppose I should choose all these Defender Abilities I¡¯ve been offered, to protect your weak wizard body,¡± Fritz responded pretending to prepare to dive into his sanctum. ¡°That way you can stay safe behind me, your gallant guardian. You can sling your spells from the back and never have to be put in any danger. You¡¯ll never even see an enemy up close if I can help it,¡± He added smirking as the grin started to fall from Bert¡¯s face and turn to a scowl.

    ¡°Oh, and you¡¯ll have to wear robes too. Really heavy ones, and a pointed hat of course,¡± Sid joined in belatedly, Fritz had almost forgotten she was there in his bickering with Bert. She seemed to have caught on the Bert¡¯s dumb joke though, better late than never he supposed.

    ¡°Wizards can dress how they please,¡± Bert proclaimed, though there wasn¡¯t much vigour left in his acting. ¡°Oh fine, I¡¯m not a Wizard. Now that I think about it it would be boring.¡±

    ¡°Well, now that your joke is over, what did you get then?¡± Fritz prodded Bert who seemed lost In a thought.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Bert¡¯s face lit up again and that infectious grin spread across his rugged features. ¡°I am a Brute.¡±

    ¡°We know that. What Path did you get?¡± Fritz teased.

    Bert contorted his features into a mask of mock offense for a moment but then his grin slipped through, ¡°Brute! It gave me Strength, Endurance and two Advanced Attributes.¡±

    ¡°Seems normal for a front-line fighter,¡± Fritz commented. ¡°But only four Attributes seems weird, mine were more spread out. You probably got more points aligned to them, I get six per attribute.¡±

    ¡°Yeah I got nine to each, seems to work out equally, a quick question. What exactly are Advanced Attributes? And what does it mean if they¡¯re ¡®Activated¡¯?¡± Bert asked without shame as if Fritz hadn''t tried to drill this stuff into his brain for years.

    Fritz sighed, not letting Bert get on his nerves. ¡°Advanced Attributes are strange. They interact with our Abilities and bodies in more specialised and some would say more powerful ways than the Basic Attributes,¡± Fritz recited calling upon memorised pages of the guidebooks he had read.

    ¡°When they are activated you can then align free Attributes to them as you could your Basic Attributes. You can activate them through Paths and rarely Traits. I¡¯ve heard of Techniques and Strains also Activating Advanced Attributes but that¡¯s mostly rumour as the exact workings of the Spire¡¯s magics aren¡¯t well understood or widespread. Such knowledge is worth a fortune and hidden away and hoarded,¡± He continued his lecture.

    ¡°Some are rarer than others, such as the Arcane Attribute which is said to be able to power all magical Abilities regardless of alignment and is thus greatly prized for its versatility. But that doesn¡¯t mean you should discount the potency of the more common Advanced Attributes, each of them can be powerful and effective with the right synergies.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Well, I got Momentum and Vitality, are they good ones?¡± Bert said curiously.

    Sid spat out some water she had been sipping from her water skin and Fritz stared at Bert dumbfounded.

    ¡°Are you pulling our legs again Bert?¡± Fritz said smiling ruefully.

    ¡°No, they¡¯re not bad are they?¡± Bert asked worry creeping into his tone.

    Realising he wasn¡¯t lying Fritz nearly jumped at the man in joy, he only held himself back so he wouldn''t aggravate Bert¡¯s injuries.

    ¡°Vitality... is... rare,¡± Sid spluttered while coughing out the water that she was choking on.

    ¡°And powerful,¡± Fritz added nodding, then worriedly looking at Sid until her coughing fit eventually died out.

    ¡°Why?¡± Bert asked curiously, ¡°When I focused on the Attribute it just told me; Health abound, Restore the Body, Cleanse the blood. Why doesn''t it have a more direct explanation like the Basic Attributes?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just how they are. Right, Fritz?¡± Sid said huskily, tilting her head inquisitively and letting out last cough.

    Fritz shrugged, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve heard that the more advanced Abilities and stuff tends to be more¡­ esoteric.¡±

    ¡°Esoteric?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Strange,¡± Fritz corrected.

    ¡°So it¡¯s a mystery as to what it does then?¡± Bert said exhaling in frustration.

    ¡°Specifically yes, generally no. If I¡¯m interpreting the phrases right it has something to do with healing and health.¡± Fritz supplied. ¡°You''re probably going to recover quicker from your injuries. It looks like it''s already working.¡± Fritz pointed out Bert¡¯s stab wound scars, they had been getting considerably less angry and raw over the past few minutes. His bruises were fading to yellow and those from his beating outside of the spire had all but disappeared.

    Bert and Sid peered at where Fritz pointed, Sid gave a low whistle and Bert¡¯s eyes danced.

    ¡°How about Momentum? What does that have to say for itself?¡± Sid asked, changing the subject as Bert winked at her for staring at his torso for too long.

    ¡°Unmovable Object, Unstoppable Force,¡± Bert intoned.

    ¡°Something to do with not getting pushed around by monsters?¡± Fritz suggested, not entirely sure, his focus had never been on the martial Paths.

    ¡°Sounds about right,¡± Bert said shrugging, his golden hair bouncing off his shoulder.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to do some research when we¡¯re out of here,¡± Fritz decided. ¡°Abilities?¡±

    ¡°Somethin¡¯ called Die Hard makes me harder to kill apparently, I feel it has a link to endurance and vitality. Don¡¯t ask me how I know that. Oh, and I have a bunch of new traits,¡± Bert replied easily.

    ¡°Really? The Spire should only give one, you¡¯re not a secret noble now are you?¡± Fritz mocked, but noting that being able to feel connections between Attributes, Abilities, Techniques and Traits was what he also had discovered from his experience with Trap sense, ¡®The Observations¡¯ and Perception.

    ¡°Of all the people to accuse me of that, Fritz, that¡¯s rich,¡± Bert said. ¡°But yeah, I have the Traits; Imbued Bones: Mend, Touch of Twilight and Blighted Blood.¡±

    Fritz immediately recognised the Touch of Twilight to be something akin to the Twilight Kissed Trait he saw influencing his choices. Interesting. A lingering Trait from talking with the Faeries perhaps? Its not unheard of for Latent Traits to appear in strange or prepared circumstances, though for them to do anything they need power from a Spire. I wonder what kind of Abilities the Twilight Trait will offer Bert, and me for that matter.

    Fritz sighed he¡¯d like to read the descriptions himself but without a Sanctum Projection Orb, like the one the Guide¡¯s Guild had, they¡¯d just have to explain their Abilities to each other by talking.

    ¡°Apparently my bones cast the spell Mend passively, which I think is a healing spell because it¡¯s aligned to Life. But I¡¯m not sure how the spell is triggered. Is it when I¡¯m injured or when my bones break?¡± Bert pondered out loud.

    ¡°Probably the latter, but that''s pretty amazing to have quickly fixed bones,¡± Fritz said, quickly figuring out the synergies and implications of such an ability. ¡°It¡¯ll work wonders with your Vitality and Die Hard.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t have the Life Magic Attribute to pull from so will it still work?¡± Bert asked anxiously.

    ¡°Yes, just as Jagged Nic said it¡¯ll use your stamina instead of Lifewell. So your stamina is going to be your bottleneck. Especially in longer fights,¡± Fritz theorised.

    ¡°Well if he avoids having his bones broken I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine,¡± Sid said giving Bert a smile that revealed her confidence in him.

    ¡°True, thus far he hasn¡¯t been hurt too much,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°The other two Traits?¡±

    ¡°Well Blighted Blood just says; A lingering corruption, A corrosive sign. Which isn''t helpful, and Twilight Touched says: Faerie Favoured, protector sworn. Embrace the coming of the dawn.¡±

    ¡°Protector sworn, what does that mean?¡± Sid inquired. Fritz looked away embarrassed.

    ¡°Nothing much. Probably means nothing. Right, Bert?¡± Fritz insisted.

    ¡°Right. No promises between blood-brothers here,¡± Bert winked, ruining any attempts at denial.

    ¡°Well, looks like you¡¯re the defender then,¡± Fritz said rapidly before Sid could ask any more questions on the subject. ¡°You don¡¯t have the Durability Attribute or a ¡®Provoke¡¯, ¡®Taunt¡¯ or ¡®Challenge¡¯ Ability, but you do have Tough skin right?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Bert agreed.

    ¡°Gotta be on the lookout for those things then,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Still you''re gonna be hard to put down and if you do fall we won''t have to rush to your side.¡±

    Bert nodded amiably.

    Sid snorted, ¡°As if anything would stop you from rushing to his side, Fritz.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Fritz said affably, ¡°But it¡¯s a load off my mind knowing Bert is harder to hurt.¡±

    ¡°Now on to Sid, what choices did you get?¡± Fritz asked, tuning to the young woman.

    ¡°I want to be a striker, but I don¡¯t know if I want to go for Air Elementalist or Archer,¡± Sid explained.

    ¡°Caster is rarer and you¡¯ll Activate the Magic attribute for Air-aligned spells. I don¡¯t see how there¡¯s really a debate,¡± Fritz said trying to be tactful, to him it felt like an easy choice.

    ¡°That''s the thing I also got a Trait choice of Heart of Air, which Activates Essence of Air if I take it,¡± Sid said, then she went on to explain her other choices.

    ¡°The way I see it is a choice between an Air Elementalist with Cutting Wind or Heart of Air, or An Archer with Heart of Air. Shanker is right out, don¡¯t want to do anything like that anymore, and Scapegoat, while useful, feels wrong and honestly it feels like the Spire is mocking me with it. If Spire¡¯s do such things.¡±

    ¡°If a Spire could, this one would,¡± Fritz confirmed.

    Sid seemed to shrink into herself in contemplation, then Fritz saw the bow lying by her side, he picked it up and handed it to her. She smiled as she took it. With that reaction he knew which she should take.

    ¡°Gotta be Heart of Air and Archer,¡± Fritz said smiling back gently.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Huh, why? When Air Elementalist and Cutting Wind seem stronger?¡± Sid asked bewildered.

    ¡°Because it¡¯s what you dreamed of, and if anyone can make it work, our swift, sly Sid can,¡± Fritz complimented.

    ¡°Our?¡± Bert asked curiously.

    ¡°Yes. Our. We¡¯re a team, remember. Or does your healing not work on your brain?¡± Fritz responded acidly.

    ¡°No comment,¡± Bert grinned infuriatingly.

    Fritz nodded at Sid and she nodded back, making her decision. She dove into her Sanctum and within a minute she was back satisfied look on her face.

    ¡°Now I just have to pick a Path Ability,¡± She said relief obvious on her features. ¡°I have a choice of; Eagle Eye, Conjure Arrow and Guide Projectile.¡±

    ¡°Eagle eye improves my vision and precision with ranged attacks and Abilities. Conjure Arrow gives me the ability to create arrows out of mana, they last for about an hour. Guide Projectile imbues my attack with magics that increases the accuracy of the attack,¡± Sid summarised.

    Fritz thought it over, looked at Sid¡¯s almost empty quiver and back to her face. While you could use aligned mana for all Abilities it wasn¡¯t efficient to do so. Fritz reminded them of this fact, getting an ¡°I know that,¡± from Sid and a nod of acknowledgement from Bert.

    Fritz discounted the use of Guide Projectile, something like that could be gained with practice, it seemed like a waste of an ability to him. Eagle Eye had some use, something he wouldn¡¯t mind taking himself if it were offered. The stand out to Fritz¡¯s mind was Conjure Arrow, even if it seemed weak, the fact was that Sid was running out of ammunition. You couldn¡¯t buy arrows in a Spire and you couldn¡¯t count on them in a Treasure Chest.

    ¡°Any opinions?¡± Sid asked unsure, running her hand through her short blond locks and worrying at her scarf. ¡°I was leaning towards Eagle Eye.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, I think, Conjure Arrow is the better choice. You have, what? Three or four arrows left?¡± Fritz said offering his opinion in an unusually serious manner. ¡°Eagle eye is great and all, but for right now, this Spire, if we¡¯re going to have a chance at a Golden Climb you¡¯re gonna need more than three arrows.¡±

    Sid nodded, sorting through the reasoning, ¡°I think you¡¯re right, Fritz, this is an attrition game and we¡¯re already running out of supplies. I hate to give up Eagle Eye but right now I¡¯d rather be stocked with arrows.¡±

    Sid¡¯s expression changed to the one Fritz associated with people diving into their Sanctums. Then a minute later she was back and smiling.

    She held out a hand palm upward and in a swirling of the wind an arrow appeared. It was made of a solid but translucent substance that reminded Fritz of flawed glass. Sid grimaced, stood up, took up her bow and nocked the rippled arrow. Fritz noticed the changes to her Attributes immediately, she moved more precisely, more fluidly with a subtle grace she hadn¡¯t previously displayed. Must be an Advanced Attribute at play, probably Grace. Makes me want to take the Sneak Path.

    She drew back the string aimed then loosed it at the statue of Naomi. The missile struck true, shattering against the stone torso in a shower of glittering glass that dissipated quickly in the air.

    Sid trudged to the statue to assess the impact, running a finger in a newly made notch where the arrow hit. ¡°Brittle. But effective,¡± Sid concluded.

    ¡°How many can you make?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Good question,¡± Sid replied, then started Conjuring Arrows. After two she said ¡°That¡¯s my air mana gone. It says it costs one mana but the Ability isn¡¯t aligned to air so it¡¯s inefficient.¡±

    ¡°I read somewhere that using inefficient mana types multiplies the cost by three,¡± Fritz added helpfully.

    ¡°Does that mean every point of Essence of Air gives me one air mana?¡± Sid theorised as she placed the conjured arrows into her quiver.

    ¡°Seems like it, I never got around the whole mana quantification bit in my education. So your guess is as good as mine,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Hmm, does that mean using stamina is an inefficient mana source?¡± Bert questioned.

    ¡°Yeah I think Nic said something to that effect too,¡± Sid said, thinking through the implications.

    ¡°That means if we can cast our Abilities like three to four times before being too exhausted that we should have, what, twelve-ish stamina? How does Endurance affect that?¡±

    ¡°As I said, I didn¡¯t really get to that part in my education, we¡¯ll have to seek out a climbing tutor or something when we get out of here,¡± Fritz reminded her.

    ¡°Okay, Fritz, enough stalling, let¡¯s get to your choices,¡± Bert said slapping him on the back.

    ¡°I¡¯m not stalling,¡± Fritz lied.

    The truth was that now he had the choices he didn¡¯t want to choose, he wanted to put it off. Why? It''s what you¡¯ve been waiting for this whole time? He reproached himself. He sought an answer and surprisingly found one, fear. Fear of change, of an irrevocable first step, a mistake he¡¯d have to live with his entire life.

    He shook a little under the guise of being cold then smiled, at his best friend and new climbing companion, saying, ¡°Let me just review my choices. I¡¯ll be out in a moment.¡±

    After seeing their nods he dived into his Sanctum riding that pulling sensation down and down. HE stood under his willow tree and felt at his choices again, this time trying to see them one by one instead of a rush. His Sanctum complied.

    Scout

    See the sights, count the threads, listen closely, threats ahead.

    Lead your team safely through hazards both natural and monstrous, warn them of dangers and spot vulnerabilities.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Agility, Endurance, Perception, Memory.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Awareness, Reflex.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You discovered and disarmed many traps.

    You discovered a Treasure Chest.

    You have discovered foes before they discovered you.

    You have led your team through difficult terrain.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    ---

    The scout class was what Fritz had been aiming for his entire time in the Spire, he knew it was one of the Paths that had the chance to evolve into a Guide. The guide Path was rare, and kept so by the Guide¡¯s Guild, their methods for attaining the Path carefully hidden and suppressed. The Guild went even so far as to kill and persecute those they suspected of having stumbled upon the Path accidentally if they didn¡¯t join up and swear an oath of secrecy.

    It was a risk many were willing to take, Fritz foremost among them. The wealth one could earn without paying guild dues was mind-boggling, that and the freedom of course.

    The Attributes the Scout Path offered were very appealing, he attempted to focus on the Advanced Attributes that the Path Activated but received no new information. Worth a try I guess. Awareness seems pretty self-explanatory and seemingly it overlapped with Perception. Which in the case of Advanced attributes was good as he had been taught that Advanced Attributes reinforce Basic Attributes and vice-versa. They worked even greater together than just having one or the other separately.

    Reflex was likely to be useful, being able to react to danger quickly was a key component to staying alive, which Fritz enjoyed no matter how much he complained about the fact. He would have taken Scout straight away if it weren¡¯t for how intriguing the next choice was.

    Spy

    A face of masks, cool and calm, speak in whispers, wound with charm.

    Both stealthy and observant the spy waits and watches for weakness.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Agility, Perception, Focus, Memory.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Awareness, Control.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You have discovered and disarmed many traps.

    You have discovered foes before they discovered you.

    You have attempted to be stealthy and have succeeded more often than not.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    You have used your considerable charm to get your way.

    You have treated with Faeries.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    ---

    This Path, Fritz reflected, had more mental Attributes than physical but he didn¡¯t know what effect Control had. But it also had Awareness, like the Scout did. He liked the idea of more mental Attributes and was intrigued by how it was influenced by his interactions with Faeries and this strange Twilight Kissed Trait. What were the benefits? Was it worth steering away from the Scout Path? He didn¡¯t know, so he turned his attention to the next Path.

    Sneak

    Scamper silent, to and fro, elusive action, a shadow.

    A specialist in stealth and remaining hidden.

    Aligns six points to the following Attributes:

    Strength, Agility, Endurance, Perception.

    Activates and aligns six points to the following Advanced Attributes:

    Grace, Reflex.

    Gain one Path Ability Choice.

    ---

    You attempted to be stealthy and were successful more often than not.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    ---

    While Fritz valued stealth he didn¡¯t value it enough to focus solely on it. What Sneak offered really didn¡¯t interest him compared to Spy or Scout, even if it was also influenced by his mysterious Trait. Though the combination of Grace and Reflex seemed interesting.

    Having reassessed his Path choices he left the heavy drizzle of his Sanctum and returned to the real world.

    Bert was standing and admiring his likeness in the stone of the statue before him, while Sid had laid out her oilskin and was lying on her side watching Fritz.

    ¡°Well?¡± She asked, stifling a yawn.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m torn between two choices Scout and Spy,¡±

    Sid perked up at the mention of Spy ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Spy, what does it activate?¡±

    ¡°Awareness and Control,¡± Fritz replied, scratching at an itch on his head.

    ¡°I had Control on the Air mage Path, I think it''s sorta like a mental version of Grace,¡± Sid shrugged. ¡°Scout¡¯s the safe bet here, Fritz, but there is something about Spy that sorta suits you,¡± She added.

    ¡°That¡¯s what my Sanctum thinks too, like eight influence clauses,¡± Fritz admitted ruefully.

    ¡°Clauses?¡± Bert asked while checking his jawline against his statues.

    ¡°Those lines that say why you¡¯re getting the Ability,¡± Sid explained.

    ¡°Oh, those. You punched a blight hound. You got injured a lot. That sort of thing?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Yeah and Influences for other Abilities or Powers,¡± Fritz said to the now nodding Bert.

    ¡°Eight seems like a lot,¡± Bert added. ¡°Does that mean anything?¡±

    Fritz and Sid shrugged.

    ¡°What do you guys think? Which should I take?¡± Fritz asked one last time.

    ¡°They¡¯re both good, go either way, Fritz,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Spy,¡± Bert declared.

    ¡°Why?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Good feeling about it,¡± Bert responded casually.

    Fritz nodded. Sorting through his own feelings he realised he felt the same way. While Scout had been his goal for the whole Spire he found that Spy had really caught his interest, the fact it was rare also helped. While rarity wasn¡¯t everything, as some of the best Abilities were simple and not particularly rare like Water Blast or Tough Skin. If its description was to be believed it was also a hybrid of stealth and scouting, which very much appealed to Fritz.

    He sank into his Sanctum placing his hand upon his willow¡¯s bark and chose his Path.

    Spy.

 Chapter 27

    Fritz felt the icy power burn over his mind, body and spirit. His grey-barked willow grew taller, its bark darkened and the shadows its branches cast deepened into crooked lines of night. Such simple and subtle changes rendered the willow harder to make out in the rain, but Fritz could feel it there more solid and more Powerful than it had ever been before. Than he had ever been before.

    It was like a door in his mind opened, he could feel the rushing and racing of his thoughts and knew he could push them, meld them into the right shapes if he put his will to it. That must be Control, he realised.

    Then another sensation like the gift of sight to a blind man¡¯s eyes. A sense of all the things around him, both more and less than tactile. It was both solid and ineffable, a vague shadow of presence. It was impossible to make any use of it yet, this new sense, but it would come in time, that he knew.

    He¡¯d seen his father be able to pick him out no matter where he hid; or catch balls and toys thrown at him from behind without skipping a beat, that was his Awareness and that¡¯s what Fritz was feeling now, he was sure of it.

    Before he could collect himself completely a rush of cool, shadowy energies engulfed him and he was offered another choice.

    ---------

    Path Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Mimicry

    Be anyone you want, change what others see, speak with stolen voices, impersonate with glee.

    Take on an illusory appearance of another Human or Human-Strain.

    Alignment: Glamour, Mind.

    Cost: Three.

    Duration: Nine minutes

    Refresh: Thirty minutes.

    ---

    You have used your considerable charm to get your way.

    You have treated with Faeries.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed

    ---

    Illusory Shadow

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    Create a patch of illusory shadow that can block sight, even to those with night vision.

    Alignment: Glamour, Shadow.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have treated with Faeries.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed

    ---

    Subtle Presence

    A face like any other, hid within the press, slip around unnoticed, forgotten with finesse.

    You are harder to notice and track, your intentions are veiled and harder to read to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Glamour, Mind, Shadow.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive, Suppressible.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have attempted to be stealthy and have succeeded more often than not.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    You have treated with Faeries.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed

    ---

    ---------

    Well, those are some interesting Abilities. Fritz thought while going over the choices his path offered him. I wonder if the Shade¡¯s Rest Trait worked with illusory shadow, he suspected it did but it wasn¡¯t like he was going to take Shade¡¯s rest any time soon. No, he knew what he was taking from these trait choices, still, he called them up just to go over them to spot any synergies he might have missed.

    ---------

    Trait

    Choose One

    ---------

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    You can discern information about what lurks behind a Door and its likely threats to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have chosen three Doors.

    You discovered and traversed a Hidden Door.

    ---

    Challenger¡¯s Cry

    Hark you mongrels! Flee you knaves! I am your death, these are your graves.

    Challenge foes forcing them to attack you, foes may be stricken with fear.

    Alignment: Mind, Sound.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Six seconds.

    Refresh: One minute.

    ---

    You stood in defence of fellow climbers.

    You taunted fellow climbers

    You challenged fellow climbers.

    Influenced by Technique Arte Pugilist.

    ---

    Shade¡¯s Rest

    Hide in secret, out of sight, sleep in shadow, mend in night.

    While in the dark or when under deep shadows increase health recovery to a small degree.

    Alignment: Shadow, Life.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have rested in a dark place to recover from wounds.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    Influenced by Technique ¡°The Observations¡±

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    ---------

    Maybe there are some interesting tricks I could play with Mimicry and Challengers Cry? Though mimicry is better for outside the Spire, there is a lot of mischief I could get up to with someone else¡¯s face. Still, Fritz didn¡¯t much like the idea of pretending to be someone else as he had enough trouble pretending to be lowborn as it is.

    As for Shades Rest, it was a defensive ability and he would need one of those soon but it didn¡¯t prevent him from being hurt, it just healed him if he messed up. Still being healed was a great way to keep from dying, he felt an ache from his swordfish wound and in that moment he really wanted to choose it.

    No, Fritz decided the best way to defend yourself is to never be put in danger at all. So Door Sense. It¡¯s not like he could actually pass up such a powerful Ability, the Power to know what was on the other side of a Door was invaluable. He was expecting this Ability much later, at ten Doors picked, just like he had learned secretly from his father''s journal. Getting it this early was fantastic and quite frankly impossible to pass up. Might as well pick it now then. No point putting it off.

    Fritz chose Door Sense and felt that burning cold race up from his centre and into his mind, scalding him with waves of rime. He gasped with the shock and was glad this was all happening in his Sanctum, he wouldn¡¯t want Sid to see how easily that had rattled him. The pain was gone as quickly as it appeared so he looked at his path choices again.

    No real synergies here, but I don¡¯t like Mimicry and Subtle presence just doesn¡¯t feel like me, he mused. The benefits of being harder to detect were obvious to Fritz but even if it were suppressible, which he assumed to mean that it could be turned off, he didn¡¯t really want another non-combat passive. I mean sure it could be helpful in battle by making enemies less likely to go after him but a defender was meant to do that for him anyway.

    The only use it would be was when skulking around but Fritz was hoping that his Perception and Awareness Attributes would grant him the capacity to discover and detect them from far further away than they could detect him. That was the expectation at least.

    He read over Illusory shadow, low cost, works for a while and blocks vision. It seemed useful enough, especially in a battle. Illusory shadow, while never something I¡¯d thought I¡¯d pick up, does lend another layer to my trickiness when combined with Stone Pit. Blind ¡®em, Trip ¡®em, Stab ¡®em in a shoe. He liked the sound of that. So he chose Illusory Shadow.

    A cool darkness embraced Fritz, it didn¡¯t burn but it was just as cold. A gnawing, brutal cold from the depths of night slithered inside his centre. Then it was gone, slinking away to wherever it lurked deep in the willow branch¡¯s shadows.

    Fritz exhaled and his breath came out like steam. It¡¯s getting awful cold in my Sanctum, better get some fire-aligned Abilities next to warm this place up, he mocked. Knowing that he¡¯d never be offered anything of the sort and if he was he wouldn¡¯t choose it.

    Last off he aligned his unaligned Attributes, might as well put them into Awareness for now. After he felt the small burst of power burn then dissipate he called upon the Spire Readout. The stark silver runes danced before him and he read.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 3

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 3

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 9

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 9

    Control: 6

    ---------

    Activated 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    ---

    ---------

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Twilight Kissed

    Perhaps a boon, perhaps a curse, you¡¯ll find out soon, which is worse.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz wanting to know what his two new Attributes did inspected them with interest.

    Awareness: See the Unseen, Detect Dangers, Sense Mysteries.

    Control: Override Instinct, Mould Mana, Keep Contained.

    How very esoteric and not very useful, Fritz groused. But it gave him a hint at what they did, which while not good enough, he could use what little was given to muddle through all the same. Mould Mana seemed particularly telling, maybe it could affect his abilities. He¡¯d have to test it out when he had the time.

    Noticing Twilight Kissed among his traits he focused on it, trying to bring forth a description, he felt it squirming in his mental grip but was able to pull it into his mind''s eye with a little effort.

    ---------

    Trait

    ---------

    Twilight Kissed

    Perhaps a boon, perhaps a curse, you¡¯ll find out soon, which is worse.

    The Kiss of a Princess of Twilight marks you.

    Alignment: Boon, Curse, Glamour Light, Mind, Shadow.

    Cost: None. Yet.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Ominous.

    Fritz tried not to get too worried about the Trait, but looking at all those alignments he couldn¡¯t help but feel anxious, especially the curse and the Cost. We¡¯ve been getting a lot of these mocking Spire choices, this can''t be normal.

    What was normal though in a world with such vast magics, so many Spires, who knew how many odd alignments or abilities there were? Scholars and Kings alike had tried to collect and archive all information they could, but it always seemed all but the basics about the Spire¡¯s workings were obscured in mystery and hidden by the powerful.

    Seen as too dangerous for outsiders or just to keep the advantage over other Kings, Princes of the Empire or Krakosi Raiders. All he knew was that it kept the knowledge out of his hands and out of the reach of climber teams not endorsed by the local powers that be, even if they were part of the reputable climber guilds that popped up in each city.

    No, not normal at all, The Duskmoth said she hadn¡¯t seen mortals in centuries, which probably means I¡¯m one of the few to ever meet a Faerie in this age. The thought cheered Fritz somewhat and when had a certain spring in his step as he approached the trunk of his willow.

    He gave his shadowy willow a pat, its sapphire leaves had begun to take on a decidedly purple tint and he felt a distant hollowness at that fact. First the pavilion now my willow, will anything stay the same? He shook off his moment of melancholy and resurfaced to the real world where Bert and Sid waited for him. He made sure to wear a smile for them.

    When he had fully come to, Bert quickly asked ¡°What Abilities did our cunning Spy get, did you choose a water spell that makes your pants wet?¡±

    ¡°What''s with the rhyming?¡± Fritz asked bewildered, a little disorientated from the strange impressions was sending him.

    It wasn¡¯t just locations and objects he was picking up but scraps of feeling, of thought? They were too confusing and nauseating to his raw mind and spirit so he attempted to filter them out. Control seemed to help him get a handle on his Awareness as a lot of the ephemeral noise died away with a bit of focus.

    ¡°Oh, I was just trying to be all mysterious like the Sanctum descriptions,¡± Bert explained stretching his arm over his head, testing his wounded side for pain. He didn¡¯t wince so it seemed to work.

    ¡°Well don¡¯t, it doesn¡¯t suit you,¡± Fritz replied steadying himself and standing.

    ¡°But you can write a whole poem for Sid and I can¡¯t recite anything, is that it?¡± Bert asked incredulously.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a poet¡¯s soul,¡± intoned Fritz gravely, as if such a thing was real or important at all.

    ¡°Is that right?¡± Bert said eyeing Fritz''s boots.

    Fritz narrowed his gaze, not sure where Bert was going with this but sure it was dumb.

    ¡°That¡¯s righ-¡± Fritz began, just as Bert lunged for his legs. Fritz could easily predict his movement, his Perception and Awareness easily picking up on where Bert was aiming and where his weight was most focused. He made to move out of the way and noticed his body moved much more easily than before.

    Fritz found he could dodge out of the way with ease but didn¡¯t account for the man¡¯s wily ways as Fritz noticed Bert had cornered him with his back to the pedestal holding their statues. Bert made to feint but then followed through, an old trick Fritz was well aware of but one that Bert always caught him with.

    Fritz nearly slipped out of Bert¡¯s reach with a slide to his left but Bert caught his left leg with a surprisingly soft hand. Fritz¡¯s boot was yanked from his foot, Bert¡¯s enormous strength overpowering the laces easily snapping them with shockingly loud cracks.

    Bert held the boot high and triumphantly proclaimed, ¡°Now I too have the sole of a poet.¡± Fritz groaned, Sid groaned and Fritz fancied even the statues groaned.

    ¡°What? It wasn¡¯t that bad,¡± Bert argued throwing the boot back to its owner. Fritz caught the shoe deftly, marvelling at his new level of coordination, Agility was nothing to sneeze at.

    ¡°It was that bad and look you¡¯ve ruined my laces,¡± Fritz shook the shoe displaying the damage.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Whoops?¡± Fritz asked annoyed.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± Bert reaffirmed gravely, turning away to admire the carved visage of his statue again and hiding a smirk.

    Fritz unslung his rope and cut about a foot off one end with his trusty fish blade. He began unwinding the cut-away piece, scavenging enough dark grey chord-like substance to make some new laces.

    It was tougher than any other rope Fritz had disassembled but that made sense as he had found it here in the Spire. He was a bit frustrated that his first piece of Treasure was being used in such a way, but he didn¡¯t see any other solutions and wouldn¡¯t dare go barefoot in a Spire, even with Trap Sense. All manner of creepy crawlies or other nasty things might cover those floors.

    Sid sidled up to Fritz and asked if she could have some of the leftover strands of dark chord.

    ¡°For what?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Garrote,¡± Sid said easily. He handed them over with a shiver and an unconscious rub of his neck.

    ¡°Fritz, you didn¡¯t tell us what Powers you took,¡± Bert reminded him as he was finishing tying his new laces.

    ¡°Yeah, I should probably test them out,¡± Fritz conceded, excitement building in anticipation. ¡°I took Illusory Shadow.¡± Fritz concentrated on the ability and could feel its cool magic begin to manifest, he felt he could place it within about eighteen feet of himself. So he did so, he placed it right on Bert¡¯s dumb grin.

    A sphere of darkness appeared swallowing Bert¡¯s head and upper torso, it was about two feet wide and tall and hovered in place with the occasional wispy tendril of shadow writhing on its edges. It appeared as if someone had cut a hole in the world and filled it with black ink.

    ¡°Argh, I¡¯m blind!¡± Bert yelled in surprise, waving his hands through the impenetrable blackness of the orb. ¡°How long will I be blind Fritz?¡±

    ¡°It should last for nine seconds, but I¡¯m not sure if it sticks to what I hit. Can you walk out of it?¡±

    Bert strode forward and the orb stayed behind, floating where Fritz had conjured it. One thing Fritz noticed was that the floating darkness didn''t cast a shadow, which meant it wasn¡¯t blocking the light, but it still seemed to block his, and Bert¡¯s, vision somehow. Weird.

    Sid noticed where he was staring then up at the darkness with a quizzical look on her face, then asked, ¡°No shadow?¡±

    ¡°Illusory Shadow,¡± Fritz shrugged, not really understanding it himself, but just accepting it as it was, some sort of pseudo-shadow-illusion-thing. Trying to figure it out would probably mean research about similar abilities on the outside.

    ¡°Odd ability choice, pretty weak, Fritz,¡± Bert said scratching his head, and peering around the dark sphere.

    ¡°It¡¯s not weak, it can blind,¡± Fritz argued but thought the ability was a little underwhelming himself.

    ¡°What kind of role are you aiming for, Fritz?¡± Sid asked not unkindly but the worry she had In her voice offended him a little. ¡°I ask this because your choices don¡¯t seem very synergistic.¡±

    Fritz sighed, pushing away the anger as he acknowledged her point. She was right his Abilities did seem a little hodge-podge, even to his own eclectic designs.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal, but at this rate, I think I¡¯m something of a Scout Controller hybrid. Not exactly what I wanted to be,¡± Fritz admitted sadly.

    Then with a sudden intensity, he stared hard at Sid ¡°Can I trust you, Sid?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re climbing together so I think you have to trust me,¡± Sid said a little put out by the question.

    ¡°I mean, outside the Spire,¡± Fritz continued his eyes attempting to drill holes into her soul.

    She shuffled, worried at her scarf and thought, she came to a decision after a tense couple of moments and nodded, ¡°Yes, Fritz you can trust me.¡±

    Fritz searched her features, noting that she could be quite pretty, well she would be if she could clean up all the mud and dirt smudged on her skin. He didn¡¯t let the errant thought distract him, that¡¯s not what he was looking for. Fritz was searching for honesty, for any sign he could trust her.

    He tried using his new Awareness but that just made him more uncertain as obscure ripples and muddied impressions caressed his mind.

    Shaking away the ephemeral fog of Awareness he instead used his final tactic, he trusted his gut instinct. A couple of days ago Fritz wouldn¡¯t have trusted Sid with a mouldy fish pie, now though, after all the things they had braved together. The blight hounds, goblins, beetles and worst of all Steve''s crew. These battles they had overcome together had brought them closer than he had suspected.

    His gut said, trust her. And with that visceral affirmation he let his stare and his wariness fall away. He would tell her more of the truth that was Fritz, he decided. No half-truths here, the Faeries may appreciate it but Sid sure wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°The Trait I chose, it would get me in a lot of trouble with the Guide¡¯s Guild if they knew I had it,¡± Fritz explained.

    ¡°No way! You didn¡¯t,¡± Bert shouted in giddy delight.

    ¡°I did,¡± Fritz said a smile growing on his face as he watched Bert literally jump for joy and start punching the air as if fighting invisible opponents.

    ¡°What did you choose, Fritz?¡± Sid asked in trepidation, fear mixing in with amusement at Bert¡¯s antics.

    ¡°Door Sense,¡± Fritz said, watching the words stun Sid. She sat down hard, looking at him with equal parts wonder and horror.

    ¡°Why are you still in here? You should get to the Guide¡¯s Guild immediately,¡± Sid asserted disbelievingly. ¡°They¡¯d take you in and join you up, you¡¯d have the best training they can provide. Which for the Guide¡¯s Guild is a lot, they¡¯re the wealthiest Guild in the known world. You could make so many Triads.¡±

    Fritz held up a hand stalling her outburst. ¡°The Guide¡¯s Guild killed my mother, ransacked my home and carted me and my siblings into an orphanage. They robbed me of everything I had. I. Will. Never. Join. Them,¡± Fritz was clenching his fists and near spitting the words through gritted teeth by the end of his explanation turned rant.

    Bert looked on concerned and Sid frowned at him while wringing her scarlet scarf.

    ¡°You''re being blind, Fritz,¡± Sid started, then Bert cut her off, shaking his head.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother, he¡¯s set to do this his own idiot way. Fritz¡¯s pride is a terrible, foolish thing.¡±

    Fury started to build in Fritz as they belittled his choice to never work for the Guide¡¯s Guild, he could hear his heart beating in his ears feel the heat on his face and just as he was about to yell. Bert piped up, ¡°But that¡¯s why I trust him, why I love him as my brother. There are worse things than pride, far worse.¡±

    After Bert¡¯s declaration, Fritz felt his anger fizzle and his fury slip away into a mild shame, he had gotten a little carried away, thank the Gods for Bert. Without him, he might have just sprinted up the spire alone to spite Sid¡¯s words. Which would have gotten him killed. Internally, he cursed Memory. It was making those agonising recollections of life before the gutters far too sharp to hold for even a moment.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Fritz said, wiping a tear from his cheek.  ¡°I just can¡¯t join them, not after what they did to me and mine, no matter the wealth or privilege I could attain. Plus it¡¯s not like the Nightshark is gonna want to let me go to them, I think he¡¯d do a lot to keep someone with Door Sense around.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d save a lot on Guide¡¯s fees that¡¯s for sure,¡± Bert added.

    ¡°So Sid, now that you know all that are you still willing to climb with us?¡± Fritz asked halfheartedly.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sid replied rapidly. ¡°With Door Sense, we¡¯ll have a much easier time, not knowing what awaits you on the other side of a Door is one of the most dangerous bits of climbing. And Fritz, thanks for trusting me, I¡¯ll make sure you won''t regret it.¡±

    ¡°So, we have me as the defender, Sid as the Striker and Fritz as a scout,¡± Bert said summarising. ¡°What equipment and more importantly how much food do we have left?¡±

    Fritz shrugged and the three of them began to catalogue their equipment and talk over their new strategies and synergies. When they had done that they found they had food for at least three days, Fritz found he still had the cursed dagger and offered it to Sid and Bert.

    ¡°Nah, I had a look at the Arte Pugilist and now that I have Momentum and Vitality it mentions benefits to those Attributes, plus the reduction in concussive blow¡¯s cost from the unarmed bonus will let me keep my stamina high,¡± Bert said reasonably, well it would have been reasonable if he wasn¡¯t going into combat unarmed and unarmoured.

    Fritz was going to argue but saw the determination in Bert¡¯s amber eyes. Sid merely shook her bow at Fritz emphasising that she would be staying back and shooting her arrows. Fritz found himself wearing Bert¡¯s scale shirt and wielding his fish bade with the cursed dagger in his other hand, he might be able to use it as a parrying dagger, even though he was way out of practice.

    ¡°When should we go? Doesn¡¯t look like a time limit on this Well Room unlike the last one,¡± Fritz inquired of the rest of the team. ¡°I had a luxurious nap in the Faerie carriage but we have been fighting battle to battle since the goblin floor. Feels like an age ago to be honest.¡±

    ¡°We should rest when we can,¡± Sid matter-of-factly. ¡°Let¡¯s get some sleep and when we wake we can have breakfast, then check the Doors.¡±

    Just like that they parted. Sid decided to sleep on the opposite wall from Fritz and Bert. Can¡¯t blame her really, but it still stings a little.

    ¡°Do we need a watch?¡± Bert yawned.

    ¡°Nah, we¡¯re safe as we can be in a Spire,¡± Fritz said catching Bert¡¯s yawn.

    ¡°Why you gotta jinx us like that,¡± Bert groaned, then lay down on his own oilcloth about three feet away from Fritz.

    Fritz yawed again and felt himself start to dose off, despite his anxiety, tomorrow we climb. I hope we survive.

 Chapter 28

    Fritz slept fitfully.

    The events of the previous floor tormented him with the image of Steve¡¯s shattered face. He saw his mother''s broken body lying in a pool of blood.

    A pool of scarlet that expanded with sloshing waves, covering the wooden floorboards, filling the room and rising to his ankles. The once cosy sitting room was flooding with the endless sanguine tide, he was up to his chest, his neck, over his head, then he was drowning.

    Not drowning in the freezing water of the eerie sea around the spire but in heat, sickly warm, cloying, terrible heat. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He was sinking, sinking, sunk at the bottom of a lake of red, the lake he had filled with his own stained hands. Or would fill given time.

    He choked, startling awake to find Bert¡¯s arm lying across his face and his snoring, idiot face close to his own. Fritz pushed the arm up and away, rolled onto his side and took a deep breath of the dry air.

    Gasping and glancing around the stone room he dreaded to catch a glimpse of Steve¡¯s face amongst the broken statues. His stomach roiled and he near vomited again. He held back the nausea, he would need every morsel of food for the floor ahead, he couldn¡¯t go wasting it on the smooth stone of this room.

    He sat up, lifting himself to his feet he made his way to the three Doors that awaited them, no, taunted them. He was only a little surprised to see Sid sitting near them and going over her gear in preparation for their next floor.

    ¡°Heyo, Sid,¡± Fritz greeted groggily. ¡°Early riser?¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t sleep much. The jobs I took kept me out and about at all hours, day or night. I just take cat naps where I can,¡± Sid replied, alert and awake as ever. Though Fritz could see that her eyes definitely had deeper shadows.

    ¡°Did you look at the Doors some?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Yeah, a little. Couldn¡¯t tell you which one to pick. But the one on the left seems promising, seems less ominous than the other two,¡± Sid suggested shrugging.

    ¡°Well, that''s where Door Sense comes in. Lucky lady,¡± Fritz responded jovially.

    ¡°Lucky lady?¡± Sid said raising an eyebrow in mild annoyance.

    ¡°Of course, can¡¯t go around calling you lucky lad. Well, not anymore at least. And all who climb with the Fantastic Fritz and the Adequate Albert are deemed lucky!¡± Fritz explained exaggeratedly as if he was peddling some dubious wares to suspicious prospective buyers.

    Sid sighed. Sighing seems to be catching around here, or is it just me, Fritz mused as he waited for Sid to respond. Sid didn¡¯t respond. The silence stretched on and Fritz considered it a challenge, a test of who can wait out the other. The minutes drew on and Fritz smiled blandly at Sid, who was pointedly ignoring him, busying herself by putting away the last of her gear.

    She was a worthy opponent. But Fritz had refined his stubbornness. condensed until in his mind it resembled a great monolith of black shadowy stone.

    ¡°Shadowy?¡± Fritz blurted out.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Sid asked smiling as if she had won a round of poker.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Fritz replied through tight lips.

    There was a yell, Bert¡¯s yell, ¡°What are you doing Fritz? Standing around being a nuisance to poor Sid? Go Door Sense the Doors, you bloody idiot.¡±

    He had noticed his friend walking up of course and had heard his footsteps as he approached, but he was too preoccupied to register them. Should probably be focusing more on the surroundings than petty games. Still best not let them see you properly repentant, it¡¯s bad for morale, Fritz mused.

    ¡°Very well, I shall look at the Doors,¡± Fritz proclaimed with the air of someone long suffering from ill-treatment.

    Fritz strode to the Doors, all neatly arrayed left to right and started searching, as he usually did, the leftmost Door.

    It was carved of what seemed to be some sort of chalky white stone, maybe something akin to plaster. Fritz ran his fingers across its surface, noting its roughness and that it left no residue on his fingers. The stairs were more of a ramp and he could smell a salty tang in the air like a sea breeze.

    A nice walk down a beach perhaps? He thought. Well, now¡¯s the time, let''s use this Door sense. Fritz reached down into his Sanctum and found the Power there waiting on the edge of his perception.

    He activated Door Sense and felt a trickle of new information dripped into his mind. It was fuzzy, hard to make out but it gave the distinct impression that it was a floor of hidden dangers and little in the way of monsters. Unfortunately, he also got the impression that most of the floor was water. Not just water, the heaviness he felt from the strange sensations of Door Sense was warning him the Door opened deep underwater.

    Fritz shuddered, that would be a terrible surprise and maybe a fatal one if one didn¡¯t hold their breath or have some sort of magic potion like they had gotten from Jagged Nic. Well, that Door can be crossed off.

    He turned to the second Door, one of strange green glass sparkling with flecks of gold. Its arch was a graceful curve, with a single eye carved at its peak. It opened onto steps of pale yellow stone and smelt of nothing so much as a dusty room.

    Fritz reached out again with his new sense and found it much more helpful. The Ability revealed to him this floor was a smaller floor than the last couple and had but one danger. A powerful enemy no doubt, but a singular one. He also could feel something of a link between it and the green glass of the Door.

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    One big monster. Maybe made of the same glass as the Door? Fritz guessed. Once he thought he had gleaned all he could from this Door he moved to the next and last.

    The rightmost Door appeared as a circular tunnel bored into the dark smooth stone of the Well Room. The unmistakable stench of brimstone wafted out from the warm dark that stretched upwards. Fritz felt into the tunnel searching for dangers that lay beyond.

    The impressions that returned gave him a feeling that there was something in the Room he needed to protect that there were monsters that sought to destroy the important, beautiful, most precious orb. How dare they, that was the way up, it was everything, I must save it!

    He caught himself before he rushed headlong into the tunnel heedless of his team. Fritz shook his head dispelling the powerful impression with some effort.

    What was that? Some sort of compulsion or mind magic? Fritz gulped, sweat dripped from his brow into his eye and he steadily backed away from the tunnel. He hadn¡¯t noticed the strain that shaking off whatever had just seized him until his shaky legs almost sent him falling onto his back.

    ¡°Not that Door then,¡± Fritz mumbled to himself.

    ¡°What? You checked them out enough Fritz?¡± Sid asked striding to his side in her gleaming silver breastplate. ¡°Why are you sweating?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh, the Door or whatever is beyond it, tried to possess me,¡± Fritz said distracted, still trying to get his mind under control.

    Sid looked startled at the revelation but swallowed down any hasty remarks, instead pointing at the tunnel Door and saying, ¡°That one?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I think it may have been a puzzle room or something, It wanted me to protect the ¡®orb.¡¯ Whatever that is,¡± Fritz replied steadying himself by leaning, one hand outstretched, on the statue of Sid.

    ¡°Hey, why are you groping Sid¡¯s statue?¡± Bert asked as he appeared grinning.

    Fritz glanced at where his hand was placed, finding it was high on the stone of Sid¡¯s carved inner thigh. He quickly withdrew his hand, as if the rock burned and gave the living, glaring Sid a sheepish smile. ¡°Whoops, sorry Sid. Didn¡¯t mean to...uhhh...caress your shapely, stony thigh.¡±

    She stared. ¡°Why would I care if you copped a feel from a statue?¡± She asked gruffly.

    ¡°Well, it''s you,¡± Fritz said confused.

    ¡°I¡¯m me. That¡¯s a carved rock,¡± Sid stated as she started wringing her scarf. Fritz decided to agree with the young lady. It was after all just a rock, a pretty rock.

    Fritz coughed and said, ¡°As you say, lady.¡±

    ¡°And enough with the lady this and lady that, just call me Sid,¡± She demanded.

    Bert groaned, ¡°Nooooo, don¡¯t tell him that, he¡¯ll be calling you lady Sid for the rest of the climb. How do you think I ended up as Bert? Even if the name has grown on me.¡±

    Fritz¡¯s face lit up in glee at first then fell when he learnt Bert was getting used to his nickname. I¡¯ll have to come up with a new, more annoying, nickname now.

    ¡°See that, I shouldn¡¯t have said anything about getting used to Bert. That face means he¡¯s scheming something new and infuriating,¡± Bert groused.

    Damn it, he¡¯s on to me. Better distract him.

    ¡°So I took a look at the Doors and inspected them with my Door Sense,¡± Fritz explained. ¡°The one on the left exits underwater, so that one is out, don¡¯t want to immediately drown.¡± Fritz shuddered as an image from his dream flashed in his mind.

    ¡°The middle one has some sort of nasty monster, probably made of a similar substance as its Door. And the last door has some sort of compulsion that makes you want to protect an orb from monsters, I think floors like that are called Siege rooms?¡± Fritz ended with a question to Bert and Sid.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t heard of them,¡± Bert announced smugly.

    ¡°I have. What I read you probably shouldn''t attempt them without more than one person acting as a Defender,¡± Sid said frowning as she searched her memories.

    ¡°So I think we should go through the middle Door,¡± Fritz supplied.

    ¡°You said the monster will be made of the same green glass stuff?¡± Sid asked looking over her arrows in frustration. ¡°My arrows won''t be effective against that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sorry. Maybe switch to the sling for this fight? Still got Stones?¡± Fritz suggested.

    ¡°More stones than you, Fritz,¡± Bert said happily as if he was helping.

    Sid sighed in disappointment but nodded in agreement. She removed the string from her bow and placed it in a bag then draped the long length of wood over her shoulder like a staff.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going then,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°What no discourse on which Door to choose?¡± Fritz asked tentatively.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re the Guide,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°No way, I don¡¯t want to be blamed for whatever Door we choose. You got this, Fritz,¡± Bert added dodging responsibility as easily as he would a punch.

    ¡°Not a Guide,¡± Fritz said bitterly.

    ¡°Sorry, Fritz. But you know what I mean,¡± Sid apologised while slapping a stone into her sling. ¡°We ready or not?¡±

    Bert and Fritz glanced at each other then scrambled to go fetch their equipment. They didn¡¯t have much to organise or gather, having been either left behind or gifted away to Faeries. While rooting through a bag, Fritz rediscovered Greg¡¯s black helmet.

    He pulled the bulky iron helm free and stood, offering it to Bert. He refused the extra protection, saying, ¡°Going fully unarmoured, remember?¡±

    Fritz grumbled something about Bert being a fool but his heart wasn¡¯t in it, he felt uncomfortable just handling the only memento of his dead crew. He tied off his bags and packs and slung them over his shoulder, deciding to hand off the helm to Sid if she wanted it.

    Fritz and Bert made their way to the three Doors Bert humming his marching tune the whole short way.

    ¡°Want Greg¡¯s helm?¡± Fritz said, extending the hunk of black iron to Sid.

    She shook her head, ¡°The visor¡¯s too narrow. I need to be able to see to loose stones and arrows.¡±

    ¡°I also need to be able to see,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Maybe, we¡¯ll just sell it outside the Spire, it¡¯s got to be worth a few silver triads at least.¡±

    ¡°You should carry it on your belt when not scouting and slap it on when the fighting starts,¡± Bert sternly suggested.

    The thought irked Fritz but he couldn¡¯t quite pin down why. Was it guilt? Regret? Fritz sighed and agreeing, slipped it into a bag tied off on his belt. It dangled weightily, bouncing against his hip as he walked towards the middle, green glass Door.

    Fritz signalled the all clear and strode onto the pale yellow stone steps, walking upwards to the next trial.

    Even after leading the way through a Door three times before, he still felt the tight stress in his muscles and bubbling fear in his gut as he ascended. He had more information this time, knew more or less what to expect but it still couldn¡¯t calm his nerves. He wondered if the fear ever went away, he supposed that was one of the questions he should have asked his father.

    The yellow stone steps gave way to a room, with a high cavernous ceiling of green glass complete with stalactites, that resembled twisted spears. His Trap Sense trilled at the sight of them. The walls were also made of the same glass, and they looked to have pooled or melted into place, like some great screen of translucent wax. The room was illuminated by shafts of light descending from between the spears like great white columns.

    In the centre of the circular, almost arena-like room was an immaculately carved bull of the same green glass as the Door and walls. It was lying down, unmoving but even in its sleeping state it looked to be twice as tall as Fritz and counting its horns thrice his height. Deep within the glass was an obscured mass of gold. A heart, Fritz realised a huge heart of gold the size of his head if not bigger.

    Greed buzzed through him, calling out, telling him to go steal the precious heart, but he stopped himself easily. Wouldn¡¯t have much of a career as a burglar if he followed every greedy instinct he had. The trick was to know when to take risks and when to call it quits. And that heart was one big risk.

    Fritz instead stepped into the room and to the side of the entrance way, searching for the Door out. There was none he could see and the room was at most forty yards across.

    Sid and Bert scurried in behind Fritz looking around at the room.

    They didn¡¯t notice the stalactites so he pointed them out saying, ¡°My Trap Sense tells me they¡¯re dangerous, be on a lookout for falling spears of glass.

    ¡°Huh. I can see them now, they sorta blended into the roof before, nice job,¡± Bert said clapping Fritz on the back quietly.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m here for. There¡¯s no Door that I can see, maybe it¡¯s hidden or maybe it only appears when we beat the bull?¡± Fritz theorised in a whisper.

    ¡°Seems likely, Bert time to take the bull by the horns,¡± Sid said giggling at her own joke.

    Fritz and Bert just stared at her aghast at the truly terrible line.

    ¡°I was just about to say that,¡± Bert griped as if she had stolen the last toffee.

    Fritz stared at him in horror, coming to the terrible realisation that he was the only one equipped with a good sense of humour left in the team. In that moment he almost missed Toby¡¯s dry wit or even Jane¡¯s acid tongue, almost. If there is a Spire Aligned to comedy I¡¯m going to find it then drag these two through it.

    There was a subtle shift in the air behind Fritz and he turned to see the staircase down disappearing, fading away like some sort of ghost. It was the first time he had seen it happen, the first time he had even noticed it had happened. Did I actually never notice that the stairways had been disappearing behind us? Why did I notice it now? Door Sense again? Or maybe Awareness, maybe both working in tandem like Trap Sense and Perception?

    Fritz shook his head, it wasn¡¯t important right now, what was important was breaking that bull. He glanced at his fish blade and wished he had taken the copper hammer from his fight with Steve¡¯s crew. A blunt instrument would¡¯ve been far preferable to his current equipment against such a creature.

    Still, he had hope that his new dagger might hold up to the creature''s glassy translucent bulk, it didn¡¯t break when he tried to destroy the cursed thing after all. He spun the dagger deftly in his hand and shuddered inwardly when was viciously reminded of when he had seen Steve perform the exact same trick.

    ¡°Let¡¯s drop our packs and bags, I have a feeling they¡¯ll just weigh us down in this fight,¡± Fritz ordered, setting down his own bags.

    ¡°What if the Door appears during the fight?¡± Bert asked but unslinging his extra gear anyway.

    ¡°Well, we could do that but have you seen what its heart is made of?¡± Fritz said eagerly.

    ¡°All I can see is a dark splotch deep in its chest,¡± Sid responded. ¡°What is it made of?¡±

    ¡°Gold,¡± Fritz answered eyes alight in avarice. He saw the familiar light of greed glitter in both sets of eyes, Sid licked her lips and Bert grinned wide like a madman.

    ¡°Guess we have a heart to break free,¡± Bert said eagerly whilst doing a set of stretches outlined in the Arte Pugilist.

    Fritz and Sid joined in with a couple of stretches of their own. Fritz trying to make a point of not staring at Sid while she reached and bent with graceful movements.

    Don¡¯t get distracted.

    Once they were limbered up, had thought up a battle plan and were ready to move Fritz ordered, ¡°No use waiting, sling at that thing!¡±

    Sid¡¯s sling let out a whirling whistle as she got the strap up to speed, the air moved, dancing around her and wreathing the sling stone in whipping winds. It loosed with a snap, streaking away in a blur, striking the bull right in its carved eye with a tremendous crack that echoed across the room.

    The green glass fractured into a web of pale lanes, spreading across the left side of the bull''s horned head. The bull rippled, its heart kindled with light, causing its chest to glow like the noon sun behind dark clouds. It heaved itself up easily, almost gracefully, and turned its good eye to Sid as she prepared another sling stone.

    It charged, picking up speed at a terrifying rate, its terrible bulk racing towards Sid with the clear intent to paste her against the glass of the wall she stood before. This was all in the plan, Fritz let loose with a Stone Pit right under one of its thundering hooves, whilst Bert moved to engage the construct¡¯s side.

    The creature slipped in the hole, but its course was barely altered and it continued its unstoppable charge towards Sid. Fritz cursed, he thought it would have more of an effect. The ground trembled under his feet and he tried his next Ability, seizing the cool, shadowy power in his centre. He felt the power twist in his mind and he pulled it out summoning the ball of black into existence over the bull''s head.

    When he imagined the placement of the ability blocking the bull''s sight the shadow felt like it had malleability? He felt like he could stretch it, change its black sphere into something else. He did, with difficulty. He pulled at the shady mass forcing it into a disk of darkness that he could only just see through, as though he was peering through an intensely grimy window.

    The bull ploughed through it but it gave time for Sid to move gracefully to the side out of the way of the bull''s huge body. The great creature wasn¡¯t blinded for long though and it angled its great horn to gore Sid. It would have run her through as well, Sid¡¯s movements were precise, but she just wasn¡¯t fast enough to cover all the distance needed to get away from its sweeping horns.

    Fortunately for everyone, Bert lunged in with a bellowing cry, his first rippling in small rapid waves and he punched the bull straight in the side producing a heavy thunk, that could still be heard over the thunderous hooves. A fist-sized crack appeared where Bert had struck but what caused Fritz the most wonder was that Bert¡¯s attack had pushed the carved beast sideways. Diverting its charge by a whole inch which, considering the bull''s titanic weight, was a monstrous feat.

    Normally one inch wouldn''t matter, but in a fight, one inch could be the difference between life and death. Bert proved this point as the horns scraped Sid, screeching and leaving a long scratch down the side of her breastplate instead of impaling her on the spot. She was still flung off her feet from the impact, but recovered quickly, turning her fall into a roll that brought her back up into a staggered stance.

    The bull couldn¡¯t stop its movement in time, all the momentum it had built up from its charge sent it barrelling into the wall at terrible speed. Fritz expected a huge crash and for the behemoth to be knocked back reeling from the collision, but instead, to Fritz¡¯s complete horror the bull plunged, no dived, into the green glass disappearing from view and leaving only the undamaged glass where it had passed through.

    The translucent wall bent and pulsed outwards in a great circle, like a still pond rippling from being disturbed by a dropped stone. The stalactite spears quivered and some were knocked loose, hurtling towards the ground, stabbing and sticking there like sharp green fence posts. Fritz and his team managed to dodge all the falling spikes, only by a hair in Bert¡¯s case, and then they looked around for any sign of the bull.

    The chamber was still rumbling as if the bull was continuing its brutal rush somewhere out of sight.

    ¡°Plan two?¡± Bert asked.

 Chapter 29

    ¡°What do you mean? Plan two?¡± Fritz said scathingly through panting breaths, his spells having taken a huge portion of his stamina. He cursed himself for not aligning more points into Endurance, he¡¯d gotten carried away with his new Advanced Attributes and that had blinded him to the necessity of stamina.

    ¡°You¡¯re the scout, Fritz, find us a route to victory,¡± Bert commanded with cool confidence in his comrade, while searching the circular room for the disappeared but still loudly charging green glass bull.

    They were staring at the wall, right at the spot the bull ¡®dove¡¯ into when Fritz felt a shudder from his right. The bull burst through the wall to his right, rampaging towards Bert. Fritz dodged out of the bull''s path and called out ¡°Right!¡± Sid was moving in an instant, but Bert had a moment¡¯s delay as he oriented himself to see the hulking enemy that was fast approaching.

    Bert was agile enough to dodge most of the glass beast''s bulk, but the construct angled its head in such a way that they still caught him with the edge of its sweeping horns. He was hit in the shoulder and was flung from his feet into a violent, crashing tumble. Fritz heard Bert¡¯s bones break, shattered by the force of the charge and now accompanied by his agonised yelling.

    The bull ploughed on and away, plunging into the wall again. More glass spears fell. Fritz dodged one he could tell was falling straight down on his head, he didn¡¯t even have to look. Awareness and Trap Sense seemed to complement each other perfectly, warning him of the peril before it could strike him.

    There were cracking, popping sounds coming from Bert and he staggered back to his feet, his twisted arm realigning itself and the bone protruding from his flesh retreating, setting properly back into place. The bleeding didn¡¯t stop completely but Fritz suspected that the wounds should be bleeding far more than they were. The hole the broken bone had left was scabbing over before his very eyes.

    Turning away from the horror that was watching Bert recover, Fritz focused his mind to the task of attaining victory, or at least survival if that was out of the question.

    ¡°Into the centre. Away from the walls!¡± He ordered, employing a rudimentary tactic. They scrambled to the middle of the circular room, avoiding contact with the fallen spears.

    The bull burst out again, but as they were already moving escaping the beast¡¯s assault was far easier. If they had thought the spears sticking out of the ground would slow the beast¡¯s charge they were wrong as it glided through them as if they didn¡¯t exist, leaving them untouched and gleaming in place.

    They had reached the centre when another charge came, this time from a different section of glassy wall. They scattered and easily stayed out of reach of the bull or its great green horns.

    We can outmaneuver the bull, but we can''t dodge it forever. It doesn¡¯t slow down but it doesn''t speed up and seems indefatigable. I¡¯m so glad we all have ¡®The Observations¡¯ Technique, this seems to be exactly the kind of situation it was made for, the thought worried Fritz in that moment but he dismissed it quickly, plenty to be afraid of right now.

    He thought on the wisdom ¡®The Observations¡¯ had provided, slow it down, blind it, stall it, somehow.

    ¡°Can you hit it in its other eye as it goes past?¡± Fritz asked Sid, as they both panted from exertion.

    ¡°No, too fast, too small a target. I only got it in the eye the first time because it was lying still,¡± Sid replied, wiping her sweaty fringe out of her eyes and then putting another stone in her sling.

    ¡°How about the leg?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Maybe, is that the plan?¡± Sid said uneasily.

    ¡°Only good one I can think of, we all aim for its front legs as it passes, prioritise the right, but strike at the left if you can''t reach it,¡± Fritz ordered. ¡°Time to put our Abilities to use.¡±

    Fritz reached out with his senses, trying to pinpoint which direction the bull would charge from. It was difficult but there was an intensity, a rumbling of hooves, he could vaguely follow through the wall. He closed his eyes relying on his hearing and Awareness to track the glass bull¡¯s location.

    The intensity changed for a brief moment and Fritz spun around, shouting, ¡°Behind!¡±

    Sid followed then Bert spinning to face the beast, as it ploughed out of the green glass a moment later. That moment however had given them time to prepare their attacks. Sid let her wind-empowered stone loose with a snap and it flew at dizzying speed straight into the creature''s thundering right leg, just above its knee.

    Pale cracks spread out from the stone''s impact, but the carved beast didn¡¯t slow, it headed, unstoppably, straight toward Sid.

    Bert attempted to flank the right side of the beast, stepping in from an oblique angle as it careened towards the young lady in her shining silver breastplate. Fritz stood just past Sid, waiting for his turn to strike. The bull passed by Bert, attempting to gore him, but he swiftly slipped under the green horn, then with all his might he threw a devastating hook into the construct''s already cracking knee. His fist rippled with the familiar pulsing of Concussive blow and connected with a bone-rattling thump.

    It was more than bone-rattling for Bert as his forearm snapped cleanly down the middle, bending away at an unnatural angle. He screamed. Sid cursed, wrapped her sling¡¯s strap around her hand like a knuckle duster and leapt out of the way of the beast¡¯s path. It was a near thing, and as the horns swept down on her she spun into a kick that swirled with a small cyclone, hitting the horn in with a gust of air that cushioned her from the worst of the impact.

    Still, she fell to the yellowed ground hard, her breastplate clanging as she clumsily rolled into a heap. Fritz had no time to be concerned for his two crew, it was his turn to face the bull. He stretched his senses to the very limit, trying to plot where exactly he needed to be to both hit the construct¡¯s leg and avoid its horns.

    He moved precisely two steps back and readied his fish blade and bone dagger to strike. The bull rushed towards him, just as he predicted and he dodged being gored by the horn¡¯s point by inches at most. Fritz swung his blades together, aiming at the glassy knee, stabbing above with his dagger and slashing below with his fish blade.

    The dagger bit deep and was yanked from Fritz¡¯s grip, clattering to the floor, whilst his fish blade sparked against the construct''s leg and cut a jagged groove where it had struck. The beast which had been eerily silent except for its booming steps, swung its head up and bellowed as it thundered past him. The sheer volume threatened to deafen Fritz so he clasped his hands to his ears in a futile attempt to protect them.

    Again the bull dove into the wall, becoming hidden from their sight. Fritz staggered, dizzy from the cacophony and reclaimed his cursed dagger from where it lay. He rushed back to the centre to join Bert, who was rubbing at his injured but whole arm, and Sid who while looking a little bedraggled seemed uninjured.

    ¡°Think it''s working?¡± Bert yelled, revealing his deafness.

    ¡°Yes, one more pass,¡± Fritz yelled back.

    Sid just nodded and started spinning her sling up to speed again, waiting for Fritz to point out the bull¡¯s approach and direction.

    ¡°Front,¡± Fritz shouted as he felt the slight change in the rumbling again.

    The bull appeared just as he predicted and Sid¡¯s sling snapped as soon as the damaged leg stomped out of the green glass. With a thunk and a sound of splintering the stone connected. The cracks on the construct¡¯s knee extended and deepened, but it continued its unstoppable rush, this time towards Fritz.

    His feet felt stuck to the ground as the enormous bull of green glass rampaged towards him, ¡°It¡¯s coming for me! Bert!¡± Fritz screamed. He seized control of his legs, forcing them to run out to the side where Bert stood.

    Bert met the bull¡¯s charge with one of his own, both his fists flaring with the rapid waves of Concussive Blow. He didn¡¯t punch this time though, he ducked under the horrendous horns, spread his hands open and readied two palm strikes. The great green hoof came down meeting the ground and it looked as though Bert was timing his strike for that very moment when the construct was putting its titanic weight on that damaged front limb.

    Bert struck, rapidly thrusting both of his hands forward, right onto the carved glass joint. Then he pushed. The joint bent, snapping to the side and forcing the bull to stumble and slow. Shining shards of green glass fell out from the cracks and glittering dust leaked from its ruined knee. Still, the bull barrelled forward, letting out another booming cry.

    Fritz didn¡¯t have the room to react, as he felt the falling spears of glass cut off his routes of escape. He couldn¡¯t place himself perfectly like he had last time, but he didn¡¯t have to now that the construct was limping, its lumbering gait was filled with more openings than ever.

    Fritz leapt into one of those openings, avoiding the horns by a foot instead of inches. He plunged his dagger and swept his fish blade. The bone dagger stuck deep and was being pulled from his grip again. Rather than fight the pull, he let the dagger go and allowed the force to spin him. As he spun he seized his fish blade with both hands and cut another deep furrow in the bull¡¯s knee as it stormed past him.

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    The bull had almost reached the wall when another snap and whizzing of a sling stone soared past Fritz¡¯s ears. The stone that was sped up by the wind strike struck. With a crack that sounded like lightning the construct¡¯s knee exploded in a glittering cloud, spraying the air with shards of shattered glass.

    The bull fell to the side skidding across the yellow stone and bellowing out in booming bovine tones.

    Bert, Sid and Fritz were already moving as the glass stalactites started to fall like hail. Fritz could feel where the spears were to fall and dragged Sid to his side, holding her close, standing where they would be safe. Bert was unfortunately just out of reach and Fritz watched on in horror as he was skewered through the thigh and shoulder by long spears of green. Bert yelled, adding his voice to the bull¡¯s.

    The hail of glass stopped suddenly and Sid pulled free of Fritz¡¯s one-armed embrace, stepping away her face flushed. She spun up her sling and started hurling stones into the bull¡¯s back right leg with deadly accuracy as the construct began to stagger up, lifting itself to stand on its three remaining hooves.

    Fritz ran to Bert¡¯s aid, he grabbed the glass shaft pinning Bert¡¯s shoulder and pulled, not caring as the glass cut at his palms and fingers. He pulled it free with a surprising amount of ease and blood. Fritz threw it to the side and it rang almost like a bell, vibrating in a low hum. Fritz suspected there was something to the noise but he put it out of his mind, focusing on helping Bert.

    Bert didn¡¯t need any more help though, he was already pulling the other spear free, grunting in pain as he yanked it free of his flesh.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Fritz asked his friend, who responded with a weak smile and a tired nod.

    Crack. Another stone hit the bull and Sid shouted, ¡°Bull¡¯s still coming! I¡¯m out of Stones.¡±

    The bull reared its head and turned towards them, somehow even though it only had three legs, it began to charge again. Not as fast or as strangely graceful as it had been but still too fast to ignore. Fritz made to run but found the bull was targeting Bert now, and Bert¡¯s thigh was still yet to fully heal from its puncturing.

    Cursing Fritz searched for anything to help, but then smiled a wicked smile, and called upon his Power, shifting the stone below the front green glass hoof that was left with Stone Pit. The bull stomped into the pit. Without one of its other legs to compensate for the sudden shift in the stone and prevent its fall, it charged horns first into the ground.

    The long green horns dug troughs in the stone before finally plunging deep within the ground bringing the bull to a standstill. It bucked its body trying to free its stuck horns and the pale yellow stone began to crack.

    Taking advantage of the bull''s current immobile state Fritz lunged into action. With his fish blade still in held with two hands, he chopped down like he was trying to split wood. He hacked at the construct''s neck repeatedly, the edge of the fish blade sparking as it ground against the glass. The strikes left their marks, a rent that was being expanded with each swing. Not enough.

    The bull lurched and its head rose, its horns burst free from the stone in a shower of pale stone that rained upon Fritz as he stood there panting with exhaustion. The terrible horns swept towards Fritz, but he was too slow to move at such short range. He saw the awful green glass swing brutally towards him, inevitable as the dusk, and knew he be hit, hurt and maybe struck dead.

    But Bert was there, he ran in with a loping charge, slipped under the horns and threw a mighty, rippling uppercut that landed square under the bull¡¯s carved chin. Bert heaved, keeping his fist in contact with the underside of the bull¡¯s head, lifting it up. The horns swept over Fritz instead of through him and he struck again with his fish blade opening the rent a little more.

    Sid rushed to Bert¡¯s side and almost in unison, they struck the bull¡¯s head from underneath. Bert with another rippling uppercut and Sid with a kick wrapped in swirling air. Their attacks collided with the glass with a thud and a clunk and they leapt away.

    With a sound like a tree snapping in a storm cracks spread from the rent Fritz had cut, then the rent expanded, becoming a fissure and the pale lines of broken glass converged around the bull¡¯s neck. Bert ducked in close to the construct and with one final rippling punch to its head, the bull¡¯s neck shattered in a blast of green shards and its head fell, crashing to the stone.

    The bull¡¯s body froze in place. The horns clanged as the head rocked from side to side on the stone before eventually lying still.

    Fritz searched for any new threats, unsure if the battle was over. When he saw and heard nothing he let himself sit down with a thud.

    Sid lay down on her back panting and Bert limped over to Fritz and joined him by sitting nearby. They gathered their collective breath, not speaking and revelling in the quiet which was so refreshing to Fritz¡¯s ears after the incredibly loud encounter.

    After a few minutes of rest and blessed silence, Fritz spoke up, ¡°Good job. How are the injuries, Bert?¡±

    ¡°Healin¡¯,¡± Bert grunted, looking over his already scabbed-over wounds, they still seemed painful and clearly hadn''t healed fully but they weren''t bleeding at least. ¡°I¡¯m sure the Well Room will heal me up proper.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a full restoration, Bert,¡± Fritz chided. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t count too much on that healing us, especially as we climb higher.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mother,¡± Bert said grinning.

    Fritz scowled and put on his best impression of one of the shriller nannies he had when he was growing up.

    ¡°And don¡¯t forget to change your clothes, young man, the state of your dress is unacceptable. You¡¯ll need a shave as well, and a bath for that matter! We don¡¯t want to give the impression that you¡¯re a street rat, a ragamuffin and a sneak-thief.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the scandal!¡± Bert laughed and Fritz thought he could hear Sid quietly giggling. ¡°But a shave would be welcome and a bath would be paradise.¡±

    Fritz silently agreed, and even Sid let out a grunt of longing. As street urchins they may have been used to the filth but even in the gutters you could stand out in the rain for a while to get the worst of the day¡¯s grime off of you. There had been none of that here and Fritz was really beginning to see it, feel it and smell it building up on their bodies and clothes.

    ¡°He¡¯s right you know, the deadlier threats will have worse venom and afflictions that the Well Room can''t heal,¡± Sid supplied, changing the subject back to something serious as she sat up.

    ¡°That¡¯s what Vitality is for,¡± Bert answered with a self-satisfied grin. ¡°Which leads me to a question for you two book buddies or should I say scholars? Do Advanced Attributes also ¡®multiply the base¡¯, as it were?¡±

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Fritz ventured, ¡°I know the magic Advanced Attributes give you a mana reservoir as well as increasing the potency of similarly aligned Abilities. But as for the others, I¡¯m not really sure.¡±

    Fritz turned to Sid to see her also puzzling through the question.

    ¡°I think we can assume that Advanced Attributes function a little differently to the Basic Attributes,¡± Fritz stated. ¡°For one, my Awareness Attribute seems to be working with both my Perception and my Sense Abilities. On its own, it feels like I can just, you know, notice things, better, even things that I shouldn¡¯t be able to see or hear.¡±

    ¡°But together with my Abilities, it¡¯s almost as if I had a tactile, an instinctual feeling of where certain things are or should be like traps and Doors. It¡¯s supremely odd, I can tell you that much. I wonder how many more ¡®Senses¡¯ I can attain before my mind is overloaded by the sheer number of things I could be feeling,¡± Fritz ended thoughtfully.

    ¡°I noticed something similar too,¡± Bert rejoined standing up and striking a battle stance. ¡°When I hit the bull I was able to push it. Now I know I¡¯m stronger but I don¡¯t think it was all Strength. I think that Momentum helped me move the bull. Just a feeling I get.¡± Bert copied the movement he made when he had nudged the bull out of line, a punch then followed up by his palm strike push.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you noticed but my Grace and Reflex help me dodge and react quicker, I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve been able to get out of the way in time or make the decision wind strike quick enough.¡± Sid piped up, almost boasting.

    ¡°That was an interesting use of Wind Strike, very clever, much better than just breaking your arms,¡± Fritz said both in compliment of Sid¡¯s quick thinking and mocking Bert¡¯s stupidity.

    ¡°What''s the point of having imbued bones if you¡¯re not going to use them,¡± Bert argued flippantly.

    ¡°Bert, you cretin, that is the dumbest thing I¡¯ve ever heard. What''s the point of having bones at all if you¡¯re just going to break them?¡± Fritz asked rhetorically, annoyed at his friend¡¯s casual disregard for his own pain and health.

    ¡°That¡¯s a mighty philosophical question there, Fritz. Why indeed?¡± Bert intoned his face cast into a mask of false pondering, as if he were thinking deeply, trying to grasp at the nature of the Spires and the reality around them.

    Fritz glared at Bert who glanced at him furtively as if seeing if he was still watching. Then they both burst out laughing, Fritz pulled his friend into a manly hug, clapped him on the back and disengaged when he heard Sid sigh then saw her roll her eyes and heard her mutter, ¡°Mad. Totally mad.¡±

    ¡°Ignore her, she¡¯s just jealous she can''t get in on the Fritzbert sandwich,¡± Bert grinned arching a golden eyebrow. ¡°Who can blame her.¡±

    ¡°I would rather die,¡± Sid said bluntly, her eyes narrowing into slits.

    Fritz coughed. ¡°Anyway I also noticed something else strange, did you see what happened with my Illusory Shadow?¡± Fritz asked, sailing the topic away from such dangerous waters.

    ¡°Not really, too busy slingin¡¯ stones,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Well I was able to stretch it, change its shape a little,¡± Fritz answered.

    ¡°Can you do it again?¡± Bert asked while checking over the bull¡¯s broken-off head, tapping on its horn with his knuckles.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Fritz nodded and summoned up his shifting shadowy power, just as before he imagined the black orb stretching out. It worked, sort of, the sphere was now more of an egg shape, rather than a disc or perfect circle of blackness.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Bert grunted.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Sid replied.

    ¡°Huh,¡¯ Fritz concluded.

    Fritz circled the floating ¡®egg¡¯ of shadows, wondering why it turned out like this, instead of a disc like before. He reflected on his previous attempt and how he had forced it into shape. He made a second attempt, this time holding the power steady and pushing it into the shape he wanted in his mind''s eye then releasing it.

    It worked this time, it was a circular sheet of shadows he could only just see through. Fritz sank to his knees and his head spun awfully as his stamina drained away, leaving him empty. Vertigo hit him like a stone brick from a tenement''s roof and he clutched at the ground as if it were trying to fling him off the face of the world.

    A trickle of blood dripped out of his nose but stopped after a couple of moments. The spinning stopped and Fritz fell sideways, lying down and moaning as if terribly hungover. Which he supposed he was in a way. I must have overdone it on the stamina expenditure, he concluded.

    ¡°You okay, Fritz?¡± Bert asked laying a hand on his shoulder and looking into his face with worry.

    ¡°Stamina, all gone,¡± Fritz replied.

    Bert nodded leaving Fritz to his self-inflicted misery, taking some time to look around the room.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s the Control Attribute?¡± Sid suggested after staring at the disc of shadow in interest for a couple of moments. The darkness dissipated without a sound and Fritz nodded. He agreed with her theory but was unwilling to open his mouth and answer due to his nausea.

    With nothing left to do but search the room and wait for Fritz to recover Sid walked up to the body of the carved bull, inspecting it carefully. ¡°How are we gonna get the heart out?¡± She asked no one in particular.

    ¡°Smash it?¡± Bert called out, his voice echoing across the room.

    ¡°Wish we had a hammer and chisel,¡± Sid muttered under her breath, whilst rapping her knuckles on the bull''s glassy side.

    ¡°Bert¡¯s the hammer, I¡¯m the chisel,¡± Fritz interjected cheerily as his dizziness receded.

    Sid glared at him furtively, obviously annoyed that he had overheard her talking to herself.

    Fritz broke the eye contact and instead followed Bert¡¯s meandering with his eyes, then thought he spotted a dark spot of something behind one of the sheets of green glass, just past where his friend was walking.

    Something the shape of a Treasure chest.

 Chapter 30

    Fritz broke into a crawl, scrabbling to the green glass wall where he had seen the silhouette of what could be a Treasure chest. He didn¡¯t get far, the spinning and vertigo rushed back with a vengeance and he flopped onto his belly.

    ¡°Bert,¡± He cried out. ¡°Bert a chest, look!¡± Bert spun, then turned to the section of that seemingly melted green glass wall Fritz was pointing at.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be climbed! There is something there isn¡¯t there?¡± Bert exclaimed, grinning his infectious grin. ¡°How do we get to it?¡±

    ¡°How do you think?¡± Sid asked while unfurling her sling. ¡°Take turns smashing it.¡±

    Bert moved out of the way with a sweeping bow, gesturing at the dark shape behind the glass.

    Fritz watched on in bemusement as they took turns slinging wind-imbued stones and punching the wall with concussive blows. They were even making a game of it, seeing whose strikes left the most or longest cracks. It quickly turned into good-natured bickering and mocking and the cracks spread ever larger and chunks of the glass started falling away, clattering to the ground with a loud clinking.

    ¡°Fritz, tell him my crack is bigger,¡± Sid demanded as sweat trickled down her cheek from the exertion.

    ¡°As a gentleman, I would never deign to speak on a Lady¡¯s crack. No matter how prodigious,¡± Fritz intoned regally, affecting an air of noble offence.

    Sid scowled, but Fritz thought he could see a faint glitter of amusement in her eye as she did so. Bert laughed at the comment, as he readied another Ability-enhanced punch.

    After a couple of minutes of thuds, slaps and thwacks, Bert turned to Fritz, ¡°Wait can¡¯t you make holes?¡± He questioned as he slumped to the ground, sweating heavily and panting lightly.

    ¡°I can,¡± Fritz said smugly, giving his two crew a bland smile.

    ¡°Does it work on glass?¡± Bert asked, an edge of annoyance in his voice.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Fritz eloquently espoused. Both of his crew glowered at him, and Fritz had to suppress the mirth he felt from annoying his boon companions.

    When Fritz made no move to use his Ability or speak, Sid growled out, ¡°Can you try?¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course, I was merely allowing you two to apply your plan first,¡± Fritz explained untruthfully. Really he hadn¡¯t thought of it until that moment. If he had realised it before it might have been of use against the bull and the fight could have been much less difficult and dangerous. The thought made him feel guilty that he still hadn''t grasped the full use of his Abilities yet.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to rest up first, I don¡¯t think I could cast a spell in my current state,¡± He added smiling.

    Sid and Bert joined him on the ground drinking the last of their water and nibbling a bit on their smoked monster fish. Clearly, they had used the majority of their stamina and magic and needed to rest up as well.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to find more water and food soon,¡± Sid said dully pushing her sopping fringe of blond out of her eyes.

    Bert nodded in agreement and pulled off his drenched shirt, stating ¡°Yeah and I¡¯m getting hungrier by the moment, my much-expanded musculature demands more sustenance.¡±

    ¡°Those are some big words, Bert. Aren¡¯t you meant to be the brute?¡± Sid asked lightly mocking the shirtless man as he flexed his arms and showed off their ever-increasing size.

    ¡°What can I say? Fritz is rubbing off on me,¡± Bert replied easily, looking himself over with his amber eyes.

    Sid smirked, raising an eyebrow at the remark, and Bert gave her a sly grin and added, ¡°Not in the way you¡¯re thinking.¡± Then he laughed easily.

    Fritz smiled along, he¡¯d heard it all before. Fritz stood and meandered to his belongings taking out his Technique book, he thought he¡¯d give it another read if they had downtime and now seemed as good a time as any other.

    As he was leafing through the densely packed text of the journal, re-reading and re-contextualising the contents but he still felt he was missing something. Still, he read on memorising as much as he could, which he found was much easier to retain due to his increase in the mental attributes Focus and Memory.

    Time passed and Fritz finally felt rested enough to make an attempt at using Stone Pit, he wondered in that moment if his Control could be applied to it as well. He didn¡¯t see why not. In his mind¡¯s eye, he pictured what he wanted, a deeper hole, more cylinder than sphere. He used his power to attempt to shift the glass but found it had no purchase on the green translucent substance. Holding onto the spell for a moment longer he redirected the ability down at his feet.

    The spell fought him as it was cast, it wanted to stay rigid and spherical, and something about its stone nature rendered it almost impossible to bend. Still, Fritz forced the spell to change, moulding it according to his will at the yellow stone in front of his feet. The hole looked the same as any other he had cast, but as he crouched and looked at it more carefully the crater was definitely smaller across and deeper than previous holes. Not by much, maybe an inch each way, more again like an oval there than a perfect spherical indent like before.

    Fatigue hit him at once, both in mind and body and he sat heavily, staring at the hole he had created.

    ¡°You missed, idiot,¡± Bert pointed out.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t work on glass,¡± Fritz replied. ¡°But look this hole is slightly deeper.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Bert said stoically. ¡°And what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I was just testing the Control theory. Seems the Advanced Attribute also works with Stone Pit, just not as well as Illusory Shadow. There was a lot of¡­ resistance,¡± Fritz explained.

    ¡°I¡¯ve read that some alignments are harder than others to shape,¡± Sid said offhandedly. ¡°Too bad your ability doesn¡¯t work on glass though.¡±

    ¡°Truly. Well, back to smashing! Sorry, you¡¯re so useless, Fritz,¡± Bert said without a hint of apology in his voice and a sly grin spreading across his rugged features.

    And get back to smashing, they did. It didn¡¯t take much longer for them to clear enough of the wall away, shattering a small hole then expanding it big enough for Fritz to crawl through.

    ¡°Why me?¡± Fritz whined, trying to shirk any more work.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re not the tallest or the thickest,¡± Bert reasoned.

    ¡°I¡¯m thicker than her,¡± Fritz rebutted.

    ¡°Not by much, Fritz, and not where it counts,¡± Bert said glancing meaningfully at Sid¡¯s burgeoning hips. Fritz looked away from Sid quickly, not wanting to get caught staring.

    It seemed that whatever deprivation their poverty-induced malnutrition had wracked their bodies with was slowly being restored by the Spire¡¯s magic, even those they suffered far before they got their Powers. Fritz held out a vain hope he might recover another inch or two of height, Bert on the other hand didn¡¯t seem too fussed about that, he seemingly desired more muscle instead.

    Fritz capitulated and begrudgingly crawled into the tight hole they had made in the glass. It was only five feet long but it was uncomfortable, the jagged glass digging into him but not piercing the oilcloth they had wrapped around him for his protection.

    He seized the dark chest-like object then called out, ¡°Got the chest! heave ho!¡± In a bad impersonation of a sailor.

    Fritz felt them pull on his legs and he was dragged out quickly holding the Treasure chest. It was just as strangely light as the last one he had found but this one he was out of the dark and could get a clean look at it was banded with silver, not bronze.

    He gasped in awe, Sid and Bert joined him with a low whistle and an appreciative ¡°Nice,¡± From Sid.

    ¡°Who wants to do the honours this time?¡± Fritz asked as he sat up, eyes locked on the lightly glowing chest.

    ¡°Oh, can I,¡± Sid piped up eagerly.

    ¡°All yours, Lady Sid,¡± Fritz agreed magnanimously, he would have bowed if he was standing but settled for a gracious nod of the head.

    She rolled her eyes, but a smile still lit her face prettily, and she put her hands on either side of the chest and lifted its lid.

    The incandescence flowing shafts of light poured out, just like the last chest but Fritz fancied that these rays of brilliance were brighter and more refined than those that came out from the bronze chest. What would opening a gold or even platinum chest look like? He wondered absently, then brought himself back to the present to see the first item Sid removed from the chest.

    The first item was a small steel mallet of sturdy make, and with it was a pointed object of some black metal Fritz couldn¡¯t identify.

    Sid¡¯s smile fell, and she said softly, ¡°It¡¯s a hammer and chisel.¡±

    Bert and Fritz looked upwards at the roof in unison. A small horror coiled in Fritz''s gut as his thoughts raced and it felt like a pressure bore down on him. It¡¯s listening to us, no doubt about it. We have to be careful. Do all Spires listen? What does it have in store for us? Or is this some sort of joke that we just don¡¯t understand yet? Fritz shivered and he saw a similar shiver go down both Sid and Bert¡¯s backs.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ¡°Ominous¡± Bert bemoaned.

    ¡°Creepy,¡± Sid intoned.

    ¡°Terrible,¡± Fritz groaned.

    They waited in silence for a few moments longer lost in dark thoughts until Fritz shook off his own fear and shouted out, ¡°More Treasures! What¡¯s next in the chest!?¡± Shaking them from their malaise, it even raised his own mood to hear his bright voice echo off the green glass walls.

    ¡°Chest, Chest, Chest,¡± The echos repeated.

    Bert and Sid smiled at him gratefully, and he smiled back. It felt like whatever cruel will they were subjected to just a moment ago had evaporated and they were able to relax. Fritz didn¡¯t even realise he had been so tense.

    Sid reached into the chest again, pulling out a small box of red wood. It was about the size of Fritz¡¯s torso and had a fine latch and hinges of silver. She lay it next to herself, not wanting to open it right away and instead reaching for the next object in the chest. She went on like this not really inspecting the items as they were pulled out and set aside.

    They were left with a small pile of items: four vials; three of which contained stamina draughts and one health potion, three well-made travellers packs, a set of white and blue clothes, a belt, a ring and a small piece of hard paper.

    When the final item, the piece of paper, had been removed the chest began to fade away, becoming ghostly transparent, then gone, slipping away into nothingness. They looked over the small pile of Treasures greedily, expectantly, then inspected the items one by one.

    The tan-coloured cloth traveller''s packs were lightweight and functional, complete with leather buckles and straps so they could be carried on one''s back. They were much roomier than the assortment of haphazardly made, ragged bags and sacks the crew were currently using. There was even a little loop where Fritz could coil his rope safely and securely. The amount this pleased Fritz seemed to annoy the others however as he lovingly put his rope into place on the loop.

    The white and blue clothes were a soft material, not exactly silken but close to it and had a distinct heaviness and toughness to them. They were comprised of a set of white baggy pants and a sky blue sleeveless vest with a familiar silver fist emblazoned upon it just over where someones heart would be.

    Bert''s eyes widened as he noticed the crest and he looked to Fritz with a pathetic attempt at puppy dog eyes.

    Fritz scoffed and threw the garments at him saying, ¡°Take them. No one else but you would want the mad Brother¡¯s fighting garb.¡±

    Bert walked behind the bull and immediately undressed, slipping on his new outfit out of sight. He walked back and Fritz had to admit he cut quite the figure, or would have if his hair wasn¡¯t matted and there wasn¡¯t grime all over his pale skin.

    Sid looked him over for a moment but her attention was quickly drawn back to the Treasures.

    The belt was made of matte white scales from some kind of exotic serpent or some stranger beast and had a clasp of jade sculpted to give the impression of a fang. Sid handled it gingerly like it might snake and slither from her grip and bite her. She offered it to Fritz, who just shrugged in response so she laid it on the ground again.

    The ring was forged of dull steel, unmarred and unadorned. It barely even glittered like steel should. Sid put her eye to it, ¡°What do you think it does? I reckon it¡¯s probably magical, but I haven¡¯t seen much like it,¡± She inquired.

    ¡°I have seen something like it. The King¡¯s Scale Guard wear them, but I can''t be sure as I don¡¯t tend to be invited to the palace these days,¡± Fritz said absently as he was pondering over the ring.

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯ve been to the palace?¡± Sid exclaimed, her mouth slightly open.

    ¡°I thought it was underwater,¡± Bert said intrigued by something for once.

    ¡°They raise the palace halfway for special occasions. They unflood the great hall when all the nobility need attend the King, not just those of the illustrious Merfolk strain,¡± Fritz explained. He had completely forgotten he hadn¡¯t told Sid his whole story.

    He reflected he had been unusually comfortable with his secrets around the woman but shrugged off his worry. If she was going to betray him she¡¯d have done it already, plus she¡¯d have to get through Bert. He didn¡¯t really distrust Sid any longer but his memories from his time in the gutters still tried to warn him to be cautious. He purposefully ignored them.

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ve seen these on the King¡¯s elite, might be something the same or similar but who can say,¡± Fritz said, moving the questions away from his past, he was still uncomfortable talking about it, even after all this time. Even with Bert.

    ¡°Any idea what it does?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Not really, maybe a protection or Perception ability?¡± Fritz theorised.

    ¡°Well we can find out,¡± Sid said holding up the piece of firm paper between her fingers. It was of a pale off-white and had tiny glyphs written in its corners, they formed a small border enclosing the blank space in the centre.

    Fritz recognised what it was but before he could express his excitement Bert spoke up, ¡°We can?¡± He looked curiously at the paper she held and stroked his chin running his hand over his emerging pale gold beard.

    ¡°Yes. This is a know-note,¡± Sid proclaimed, a smile stretching over her face.

    ¡°Is it? Wonderful!¡± Bert stated, obviously trying to play off his ignorance.

    Sid¡¯s face fell and Fritz smiled blandly.

    ¡°You do know what a know-note is? Don¡¯t you?¡± Sid asked, concerned.

    ¡°Mmm,¡± Bert hummed in affirmation, nodding along as if he were thinking, Fritz knew he wasn¡¯t.

    Sid glanced at Fritz, and said ¡°Didn¡¯t you teach him anything?¡±

    ¡°I taught Bert everything. How to read, count and everything I know about the Spires. But, unfortunately, as you will soon discover, it''s like teaching an eel how to waltz,¡± Fritz commented without much heat, he¡¯d long since accepted Bert¡¯s strange selective learning.

    ¡°Impossible?¡± Sid questioned.

    ¡°For anyone else, maybe. But for me, merely... difficult,¡± Fritz boasted.

    ¡°Yes, but now look! This eel can dance,¡± Bert said absurdly, he jumped up and did an odd sort of shuffle that emphasised the movement of his hips and stomach.

    ¡°Did Fritz teach you that too?¡± Sid groused, contorting her face into a scowl. Fritz could see that she was attempting to hide her amusement, trying to keep her rough, serious and stoic exterior in place. She glared for some tense movements until finally breaking down, letting loose a raucous laugh, high and free, that subsidised into small giggles as Bert continued to ¡®dance.¡¯

    ¡°No I learnt this from a girl at Tallie¡¯s,¡± Bert replied, finishing up his gyrating with a barrage of hip thrusts. He sat back down wiping sweat and grime from his forehead.

    Fritz shook his head. ¡°That is the sort of thing he decides to learn instead,¡± He sighed in overblown weariness.

    Bert grinned infuriatingly, taking Fritz¡¯s exasperation as the compliment it was.

    Sid broke into giggles again, and they waited for her mirth to die down before they continued with the inspection of the Treasures.

    ¡°You were saying something about no-notes?¡± Bert reminded Sid as she regained control of her laughter.

    ¡°Know-notes can be used to discover what kind of abilities are imbued in a Spire Treasure or other magic objects,¡± Sid explained still smiling.

    ¡°Even potions?¡± asked Bert.

    ¡°I think there are specialised versions for that,¡± Fritz supplied. ¡°Most climbing teams would bring some of those with them, can''t know exactly what a potion the Spire gives you does unless you have an Alchemist or someone similar with you. Also helpful when buying from dodgy back-alley potion sellers, never know if what they give you is the real deal.¡±

    Bert nodded along, ¡°So we can find out what these can do?¡± He gestured at the obviously magic ring and belt.

    ¡°One of them, yeah,¡± Sid said. ¡°They can only be used once, then they rot away. There is a little trick you can do with them.¡±

    ¡°Oh really?¡± Fritz inquired, keeping an eye on the pale paper.

    ¡°Yeah, so to use the know-note you touch it to an object then activate it and if the item¡¯s magic it¡¯ll write out what it¡¯s imbued with. But if you just place it on an item you think is magic it will-,¡± Sid griped the paper firmly and held it against the white scaled belt.

    ¡°Will what?¡± Bert said, staring at the paper.

    ¡°Maybe you can¡¯t see it but it¡¯s tingling. Here,¡± Sid handed Bert the know-note and he took it with trepidation, then did as Sid did, holding it to the steel ring.

    He smiled as he obviously felt something from the know-note, then pulled it away, not wanting to risk activating it and having paper waste away. Bert then pressed the know-note to his new vest just over his heart and grinned wide.

    ¡°My vest is magic,¡± Bert excitedly exclaimed, then placed it on his thigh. ¡°Pants too,¡± He added handing the know-note back to Sid.

    ¡°The question is then, what do we use it on? Or can we just use them without knowing what they do?¡± Bert asked pensively, taking the subject seriously.

    ¡°We can use magical objects without knowing but it might be dangerous. What if it''s a ring of Flood or something?¡± Sid pointed out.

    ¡°Is the wooden box magic?¡± Fritz inquired, looking over at its polished, red wood and silver clasp. Sid slapped the paper to the box and shook her head. She flipped open the latch and swung the lip open.

    Sid gasped and flinched, and spun the open box to Bert and Fritz when they were startled by her reaction. They were staring at themselves, or a reflection, the box''s lid was lined by a pristine mirror. Unfortunately the faces within could not be called such. Fritz grimaced and Bert¡¯s excitement fell away as they stared upon their grimy features and filthy hair.

    Inside the box, under the mirror, was a drawer, with something like a false bottom. In the box was a brush, comb and ivory-handled, bright metal razor. Fritz was able to pull away the top draw revealing a wonderfully soft, white face towel and three bars of light pink soap. Fritz grabbed one of the bars of soap and sniffed it.

    Nothing. Not even the normal scent of soap. Completely scentless soap, what in the Spire¡¯s was the point of that?

    ¡°What you got there, Fritz?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°What we all needed most of all. Soap,¡± Fritz replied, throwing Sid one of the pink bars. She snatched it out of the air deftly, despite Fritz¡¯s poor throw.

    ¡°Too bad there¡¯s no water,¡± Sid groused, a note of longing in her tone. ¡°What¡¯s in the rest of it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a shaving kit,¡± Fritz supplied. ¡°The Spire wants us nice and presentable when it kills us.¡±

    ¡°Why would it bother?¡± Bert complained.

    ¡°Who knows why the Spires are? Who knows what the Spires see? Who knows what the Spires know? Only that they be,¡± Fritz recited his tongue gliding through the well-worn rhyme.

    There was a moment of silence after he finished speaking.

    ¡°So do we use the know-note on the ring or belt?¡± Bert asked.

 Chapter 31

    ¡°The belt,¡± Sid and Fritz said together, meeting gazes then looking away awkwardly.

    Bert chuckled then asked, ¡°Why the belt?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s the strangest of the equipment and we have a vague idea of what the ring might do. And I¡¯m sure that, in time, you¡¯ll find out what secrets your garments hold,¡± Fritz reasoned, stretching to grab the belt and hand it to Sid.

    She took the belt and put the know-note to its white scales, then writing glowed into being as if carved by fire onto the paper. Sid smiled at the results, saying ¡°Wow, that''s pretty useful.¡±

    ¡°What does it say?¡± Fritz inquired, leaning closer to catch a glimpse at the know note. Sid just handed it to him so he could read it himself.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Belt of the Moon Serpent

    ---

    Alignment: Boon, Poison, Primal.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Aspect of the Serpent

    Sly and slither, scales bright, forking tongue, deadly bite.

    Grants a small bonus to Agility, Grace, Speed and Reflex.

    Alignment: Boon, Primal.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: One minute.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Venomous Strike

    Dripping deadly, a subtle threat, cuts induce, a deep regret.

    Your strike inflicts a deadly venom on contact.

    Alignment: Poison.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three seconds, Affliction: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz repeated Sid¡¯s ¡°Wow,¡± then continued with ¡°Well now all we have to do is decide who uses it.¡±

    ¡°Let me see,¡± Bert demanded.

    Fritz handed it off to him and he whistled in appreciation.

    ¡°It would be great for any of us,¡± Fritz sighed.

    ¡°Less useful for people with strikes already, I don¡¯t think you can combine two Strike abilities together,¡± Sid espoused.

    ¡°Really?¡± Fritz asked, he hadn¡¯t heard that before, ¡°But I heard one of the premier climber strategies was to attain as many strikes as possible?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯s different though. Your own magic typically doesn¡¯t interfere with itself, but magic from an item is different since it doesn¡¯t come from your Sanctum.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± Fritz said, glad that he wasn¡¯t the only one who had been doing research and annoyed he had missed that particular fact. It made him wonder how many other gaps in basic knowledge he had left to fill and certain sense of worry bubbled in his gut.

    ¡°That and you might be offered evolutions that combine your strikes leaving you with more Ability slots,¡± Sid said using the vulgar term ¡®slots¡¯ instead of the proper academic description of Ability Channels.

    Fritz was about to chide her for her thuggish tongue but was distracted by Bert asking ¡°What¡¯s this Capacity thing on the belt?¡±

    ¡°Well, the belt uses magic from itself, not from you, so it takes the cost of casting its Abilities from its Capacity,¡± Fritz supplied as he got the bright idea to start sorting out his gear, so as to repack it in his new traveller¡¯s pack as they talked. Sid saw him start to unpack his ragged bags and followed suit.

    ¡°Oh, and it had three of six, how does it get more?¡± Bert asked.

    Fritz paused bag in hand, stunned by the question and suddenly feeling less worried about his lack of learning. Didn¡¯t everyone know this?

    ¡°Gold, Bert. Gold is a non-reactive-mana-reservoir. One gold triad will fill one Capacity to an item,¡± Fritz explained, honestly still flabbergasted that Bert didn¡¯t know this.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Bert pondered the implications. ¡°Can we gain mana from draining gold?¡±

    ¡°No, we¡¯re not Treasures,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Speak for yourself. You¡¯ll find I¡¯m considered quite the treasure,¡± Fritz stated with his most charming wink, which just caused Sid to scoff and Bert to nod gravely.

    ¡°But we can sort of drain gold for mana,¡± Fritz contradicted, then continued as Sid gave him a quizzical stare. ¡°Well, you use gold and all sorts of other materials in potions, forging and other magical object creations. So if you drink a potion of mana restoration you might be drinking gold in an abstract sense.¡±

    Sid sighed. ¡°So no. We can''t eat gold for mana,¡± She summarised obviously exhausted by his sophistry and fopistry.

    ¡°What happens to the gold when you use it to fill a magic object?¡± Bert asked, also joining in on the repacking of gear.

    ¡°Well, we can test that once we get the bull¡¯s heart out,¡± Fritz said, ¡°Should be an interesting lesson, and if it¡¯s interesting maybe you¡¯ll remember it.¡±

    Bert nodded sagely, then not willing to wait any longer, abandoned packing his things, took up the hammer and chisel and strode to the green glass bulls statuesque body. He placed the metallic black wedge to the bull¡¯s translucent hide and started thwacking away with the steel hammer.

    Flecks of the green and gold glass spat off the bull as he struck repeatedly. He pounded the chisel into the construct, driving it towards the bull¡¯s great golden heart like a black spike of spite. The chisel stuck unmoving, not able to be hammered further. Bert grinned as if he just had a brilliant idea. He wreathed his hammer in the power of Concussive Blow and struck, the rippling waves transferred smoothly into the black metal causing it to vibrate rapidly.

    Small cracks formed, then grew larger stretching all across the bull. He struck again with Concussive Blow and the entire bull shattered into pieces, large chunks of glass clunked to the floor rolling away in all directions. From the middle of the pile of glass chunks the heart of gold sat there, glinting deliciously.

    Now that it was no longer as obscured by its glassy home, Fritz could see that it wasn¡¯t an orb or nugget of gold as he had guessed but an honest to the God¡¯s oversized anatomical bull¡¯s heart made entirely of the precious mana-rich metal. It was bigger than Fritz¡¯s head and nearly the size of Bert¡¯s torso.

    Bert cleared away some of the glass rubble and moved to lift up the heart, his eyes dancing with greed. He seized it and grunted, only succeeding in pushing the heart over causing it to roll ponderously across the stone for a few moments finally coming to rest in front of Fritz.

    ¡°Heavy?¡± Fritz mocked with a smirk.

    ¡°Very,¡± Bert admitted rubbing his lower back.

    ¡°Well, let''s see what happens when we fill these objects with mana,¡± Fritz suggested, grabbing hold of the white scale belt.

    He pressed it to the heart and... nothing happened. He focused on the belt and heart and activated them like he had with his Abilities. The heart and belt glowed with a golden luminescence and he could almost feel the magic flowing from the heart to the belt. There was the faint sound of sizzling and a deep humming coming from both the objects.

    The belt stopped accepting any more mana and the glow ceased, and a fist-sized portion of the heart had gone pale and began to flake away. The pale flakes disintegrated into fine dust and the dust barely floated to the ground before disappearing entirely.

    ¡°Whoa, it just disappears?¡± Bert said in amazement.

    ¡°Yeah, destroyed. Try it with your clothes, oh and Sid you try it too with the ring,¡± Fritz suggested. Doing so would destroy more of the gold but he reasoned if they couldn¡¯t carry it around then what was the point of having it in the first place? Plus it might shrink down enough to be able to move it.

    Bert hugged the heart rubbing his face on it in an overplayed act of affection, his pants and vest siphoning off the golden mana. The ring also drank its fill quickly and the heart lost another two, smaller, chunks.

    ¡°Do we want to test them?¡± Sid asked eagerly putting on the dull steel ring.

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Fritz agreed.

    Bert was first of course, and yelled out ¡°Vest activate!¡±

    There was a glow around the blue vest, especially the closed fist sigil, then the light subsided, doing... nothing at all.

    ¡°Well, that was anti-climactic,¡± Bert groused, ¡°I thought it¡¯d light on fire or something, that would have been so fearsome. Did any of you see what it actually did?¡±

    Sid and Fritz shook their heads and Bert uncharacteristically sighed.

    He motioned to Sid saying, ¡°Your turn.¡±

    She activated the ring, a low and soft hum reached Fritz¡¯s ears and he could see a clinging translucent bubble or something more like a second almost invisible skin hover just over Sid¡¯s body and armour.

    Fritz jumped up, approached her then reached out a hand to touch her breastplate. Which she instinctively stepped back from. Fritz almost slapped his forehead in reproach. What am I doing, reaching at that area?

    He blushed and stammered out an apology, ¡°Uh.. sorry Sid forgot about the whole¡­ you know... I was just trying to test the bubble around you. Trying to see what it does.¡±

    ¡°Uh, huh,¡± Sid said in a disbelieving tone.

    ¡°Fritz has graduated from groping statues to real-life ladies, I¡¯m disgusted,¡± Bert proclaimed unhelpfully.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a lady,¡± Sid stated glaring at both Bert and Fritz.

    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± Fritz agreed amicably, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

    ¡°What bubble?¡± Sid asked, directing the question at Fritz.

    ¡°Can''t you see it, it¡¯s subtle but it¡¯s like that invisible dome on the third floor,¡± Fritz shivered as memories of the third floor¡¯s horrors assaulted him.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Sid held out her arm and looked over it hard. ¡°Yes, I can see something now that I¡¯m looking for it. It¡¯¡¯s faint but it¡¯s there.¡±

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    ¡°You could see it from where you were standing all the way over there?¡± Sid questioned frowning at Fritz.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Fritz tapped a finger near his right eye. ¡°Perception, and possibly Awareness,¡± he guessed.

    Sid nodded. ¡°Okay test the bubble out, do it on my arm though, Fritz,¡± Sid said with a tight smile, one that said ¡®don¡¯t think about grabbing at me like that again.¡¯

    Fritz gulped quietly but complied, reaching out and attempting to touch her upper arm. His hand met resistance, as he suspected it would, and he pressed down hard but was still unable to get a grip.

    ¡°Seems to be some sort of barrier, can''t grab you,¡± Fritz announced his findings.

    ¡°Good to know,¡± Sid replied side eyeing Fritz.

    The bubble winked out of existence, dissipating with a subtle blue glow and then a quiet last hum.

    ¡°It just deactivated, so it lasted for what? Thirty seconds?¡± Fritz asked. Sid nodded as did Bert.

    ¡°We should test how well the barrier takes a hit,¡± Bert stated. ¡°Using Fritz this time,¡± He amended when Sid looked at him askance.

    ¡°Why me?¡± Fritz groaned, already taking the ring and slipping it onto his finger.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re the one with the least Strength,¡± Bert explained like Fritz was an idiot.

    ¡°Fair enough then,¡± Fritz agreed then activated the ring, feeling the bubble close over him. He noticed a slight pressure on his skin and the minute muffling of his surroundings.

    Sid punched out a jab which was repelled by the invisible second skin. She struck again this time with a sweeping kick that popped the barrier. Fritz had to dodge the next attack, crouching under another kick to the chest. ¡°It broke from the kick!¡± He shouted in mild panic.

    ¡°I know,¡± Sid said coolly, ¡°Just keeping you on your toes.¡± She smiled at him viciously.

    Payback was it? Was she still angry about my gaffe? Or maybe it was that thing about survival, make them regret it and they won''t do it again? Fritz mused, feeling as though he were on the right path.

    ¡°So thirty seconds or a moderate hit?¡± Bert summarised, not getting involved in whatever spat Sid and Fritz were having.

    ¡°It¡¯s safe to assume it will take some of the force from a heavy hit too,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Is it? Safe to assume I mean,¡± Sid asked. ¡°We could test it again, plenty of gold.¡±

    Fritz sighed. ¡°Well I can¡¯t test it, a heavy hit might just kill me,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°Fine. My turn then,¡± Bert offered taking the ring from Fritz¡¯s outstretched palm. ¡°Sid, hit me with a Wind-Punch, don¡¯t hold back.¡±

    Bert opened his arms wide, turning his chest into a huge target and activated the ring.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t even think of it,¡± She replied.

    The wind whipped and spun around Sid¡¯s fist and she struck his gut with a clean, straight punch. The barrier popped, dissipating in an instant, and Bert was blown off his feet but managed to recover in a roll, quickly springing back up and standing.

    He patted his stomach where she had hit him and wincing said, ¡°Yep, blocks some, but not all of it, definitely gonna bruise.¡±

    ¡°Good to know. Now, how do we divide these things?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Well I already got the vest and pants, I¡¯m happy with that,¡± Bert said spinning and showing off his blue and white garments in all their clean glory.

    ¡°I''m leaning towards the belt, Aspect of the Serpent could help when scouting or running,¡± Fritz stated, eyeing it greedily. ¡°Plus a strike spell wouldn¡¯t go amiss with my fish- with Quicksilver.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s also great for me,¡± Sid argued. ¡°Switching up Strike types and Aspect of the Serpent would help my archery immensely as it is a boon ability and those tend to interact well with already aligned Attributes.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we flip a triad for it?¡± Fritz offered slyly.

    She frowned, seeming to know his game and replied, ¡°Even if we had one you can tell which way it¡¯ll land with Awareness or Perception. How about paper, scissors, rock?¡±

    ¡°And what? Lose out to your high Reflex and Grace?¡± Fritz argued mildly offended now that Sid was the one attempting to scam him.

    She clicked her tongue in annoyance, then smiled a mischievous grin at him that he mirrored instantly. She¡¯s not so bad.

    ¡°Well, I broke the bull¡¯s leg,¡± Sid pointed out.

    ¡°And I tripped it, and saved your life when the spears fell,¡± Fritz rebutted.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve handled it,¡± Sid proclaimed gruffly as if her mere statement could make something true.

    ¡°I¡¯m the one who landed the killing blow, with my mighty uppercut,¡± Bert regaled.

    ¡°It goes better with my outfit,¡± Fritz said, retreating into the absurdity of a fashion value argument.

    ¡°Does not, the white scales and the silver breastplate go together like cheese and bread,¡± Sid countered easily.

    Frustratingly Bert seemed to concede that point to her, with a smiling shrug-like gesture.

    ¡°This argument is getting us nowhere, and quickly,¡± Fritz groused, sitting down. ¡°Bert as the unaligned arbiter who should get the belt?¡±

    Sid scoffed at the suggestion Bert could be unaligned, she was right to, of course, Bert would always back Fritz.

    ¡°Well how about we look at who has the most magic objects already,¡± Bert suggested, looking them each up and down. ¡°Sid has none and Fritz has one, seems only fair she gets to pick first.¡± He said surprisingly reasonably.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any, Quicksilver shouldn¡¯t count,¡± Fritz protested.

    ¡°He¡¯s talking about the dagger fishwit,¡± Sid chided.

    ¡°I...uhh¡­ forgot about the dagger,¡± Fritz ended lamely, then as a gambit popped into his head he continued in an overly gracious voice, ¡°You know what Sid, how about you pick first, it¡¯s only proper you see. Ladies first.¡±

    He thought she¡¯d take offence at the Lady comment and give up the belt out of stubbornness, but instead, Sid gritted her teeth and didn¡¯t rise to the bait. She snatched up the belt, removed her own ¡®belt¡¯ of coarse rope, and slipped the white scaled thing through her pants loops. She did up the jade fang-like clasp tightly and stood there, hands on her hips. Now she¡¯s just showing off. But she does look good in it, Fritz admitted to himself grudgingly.

    ¡°Well I guess I¡¯ll take the ring then,¡± Fritz said forlornly, looking once more at the belt longingly.

    ¡°Eyes up here, Fritz,¡± Sid admonished, smiling a hard smile.

    ¡°Was looking at the belt, you know that,¡± Fritz said sourly, slipping the steel ring onto his right hand¡¯s middle finger.

    Sid just continued smiling with a mischievous joy dancing in her bright blue eyes.

    Fritz decided to fill his ring¡¯s capacity and so strode to the heart and pulled the mana into it. While he was there he also refilled his cursed dagger. He wondered how Steve had manage to combine Gloom Strike with the bone dagger¡¯s Strike. Maybe curse and shadow aligned abilities didn¡¯t have much interference?

    There was no way to really tell how much capacity it had but he guessed it was around three, it was always a safe bet to count on threes. It was also not possible to tell what it actually did except some sort of curse strike that stopped wounds it inflicted from healing. That¡¯s what he remembered The Dawndove saying at least.

    The heart was slowly being chipped away by their greedy use of its mana, and it was just light enough that Bert was able to place it, gingerly, into his Traveller¡¯s pack to test if that would make it easier to carry around. This led to the discovery of something new and wonderful about their packs, they made things within them lighter, not weightless or even half as light, but maybe one-third lighter.

    Which was a lot for a huge heart of gold, even when it was pocked with holes from mana extractions. Bert was able to carry his pack on his back with some effort. It was still a huge win in Fritz¡¯s book, he didn¡¯t want to leave behind so much gold. Bert also insisted on taking the bull¡¯s horns, Sid thought it was dumb but he just ignored her comments.

    He ended up putting them through loops meant to hold bedrolls or rope. They readied their packs and gear, transferring everything important to their new traveller''s packs.

    ¡°How should we distribute the potions, one stamina each and the health potion for Bert?¡± Fritz suggested, holding the four valuable vials in his hand.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Fritz, you always seem to get hurt, you should take the health potion,¡± Bert argued clearly worried for his friend¡¯s safety.

    ¡°No way, Bert, now that I have more tricks I¡¯m much harder to catch, you¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to be right there in the monster''s reach, what if you take a hit your vitality cant heal?¡± Fritz argued back.

    They both seemed determined to give the potion to the other so Sid piped up, ¡°How about I take it, as the fastest I could apply it to either of you in a pinch?¡±

    Fritz thought that sounded reasonable, if Bert was so hurt his new Abilities and Attributes couldn¡¯t keep up then he was likely also unconscious. That and he could trust Sid to apply it to herself or Fritz only if needed, she wasn¡¯t one to squander resources and had a level head. When she wasn¡¯t furious that is.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Fritz and Bert said together, then Fritz doled out the potions, slipping his own into a hidden compartment within his shirt sleeve. Bert¡¯s pants seemed to have special reinforced pockets just for potions so he stuck his in there, while Sid put them in a pocket on her shirt beneath her breast plate where it would be safer.

    As they were repacking and discarding the ragged bags and sacks that had outlived their usefulness, Bert let out a mournful groan, ¡°Fritz, do you know what this means?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz said confused and worried at his friend''s sudden outburst.

    ¡°If we abandon our bags, we will no longer be bag-brothers,¡± Bert opined.

    ¡°No!¡± Fritz shouted, ¡°It¡¯s not true, we can still be bag-brothers, even without the bags,¡± He contested hopelessly, joining in on the insane act and watching for Sid¡¯s reactions out of the corner of his eye.

    ¡°Without the bags, what would be the point?¡± Bert wailed, also keeping an eye on Sid.

    ¡°What are you two doing? Who cares?¡± Sid asserted, annoyed at their performance.

    Perfect.

    ¡°Bert, I have an idea, it¡¯s crazy, but it might just work,¡± Fritz continued ignoring Sid¡¯s increasing agitation.

    ¡°What is the plan, former-bag-brother?¡± Bert asked in mock despair, gripping Fritz by his shoulder.

    ¡°We form a Pack-pact,¡± Fritz boldly pronounced, placing his hand on Bert¡¯s shoulder in reciprocation.

    ¡°Genius! A divine intellect! The Architect born again!¡± Bert cried out. ¡°Sid, quickly get over here and join us in the Pack-pact!¡±

    Sid looked at them like they were mad or had rabies, or both. She was about to refuse when Fritz also called out to her.

    ¡°Sid, you must join us, three packs for a three pact,¡± he pleaded.

    With trepidation she approached, she probably thought the whole thing mad, but Fritz knew there was a method to this madness. Anything they could use to bring themselves closer together, to make them into a team who could trust each other through thick and thin, even an insane concept like the Pack-pact would be worth it.

    She made her way to their sides, her traveller''s pack on just like Fritz and Bert.

    ¡°Clasp our shoulders, Sid, and we¡¯ll do the same, then the Pack pact can be sealed,¡± Fritz intoned ceremoniously as if this were some mighty sacred ritual.

    She stared at him in disbelief, then sighed and clasped their shoulders. They clasped her back.

    ¡°With this, the pack-Pact is sealed, we shall be a crew until the stars go out of the Spire¡¯s fall, so say I,¡± Fritz called out.

    ¡°So say I,¡± Bert repeated in sombre tones. Then they both waited for Sid to repeat.

    She rolled her eyes and spoke the words, ¡°So say I.¡±

    Fritz and Bert, unclasped shoulders and acted as naturally and normally as they had been before.

    ¡°Right, should we be off to the next floor then?¡± Fritz asked as if they were just talking about the weather rather than doing some strange rite.

    ¡°Think so, got everything. Sid?¡± Bert inquired blandly.

    Sid took a moment to reply, stunned by their sudden return to normalcy, ¡°Yes, got everything.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the door out?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°I thought you knew?¡± Bert said surprised.

    Fritz spotted a Door-like shape some distance away from the Treasure chest hole they created and pointed it out.

    ¡°There it is behind that glass wall, get the hammer and chisel out again. Bert your arm is needed!¡± Fritz ordered imperiously.

 Chapter 32

    The hammer and chisel made easy work of the green glass wall and they were running up the stairway behind within moments.

    The stairs brought them up and into a Well Room of square pale stone bricks. The room was strewn with pillars topped with shallow basins half filled with glowing water, which reminded Fritz of bird baths. Not that Bert or Sid knew, or cared, what they were. What was the point of such a thing in a city of perpetual rain? Fritz had seen an illustration of one once in a book and explained the concept as they approached separate basins.

    They barely listened, Sid replied with an uninterested ¡°Uh huh,¡± and Bert responded with a bland ¡°Wonderful.¡±

    His crew were quick to scoop the water from the bowls into their hands and drink, absorbing the Power within the tepid liquid. Fritz was a little annoyed they ignored his sage knowledge but any lingering agitation was washed away when he drank the water himself feeling the cold burning energy gather in his sanctum.

    He dropped into that cold star in his chest and welcomed the light rain that awaited him, he put a hand to his Willow and seized the Power it had stored for him.

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    He immediately assigned them all to Endurance. It galled him to do so as there was Awareness or even Control that he could align to. But his experience with casting spells past his limits had left him wary of neglecting his stamina. Can always align more on the next floor.

    He gave his pavilion and muddy yard a fleeting glance then left his rainy Sanctum. When he was back he saw the other two had already found the next Doors so he approached them quickly. His body was less strained and lighter than it had been moments earlier, whether it was the healing the Well Room provided of the Endurance he just aligned he couldn¡¯t say, but he felt refreshed and ready to meet the next challenge.

    Fritz nodded at Bert who without preamble stated, ¡°One each to Agility, Endurance and Vitality.¡±

    ¡°Three in endurance,¡± Fritz replied and Bert acknowledged his good judgement with a yawn.

    They turned to Sid who rapidly responded, ¡°Essence of Air, my magic Attribute.¡±

    ¡°Can you get more than one magic Attribute?¡± Bert asked as if the thought had just occurred to him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Fritz and Sid said in unison, they locked eyes, but somehow it was less awkward than before. Maybe we¡¯re just finally getting used to each other? Sid looked away, her cheeks colouring a little and pulling at her scarf. Or maybe not, Fritz thought ruefully.

    ¡°The Doors, Fritz,¡± Sid said as she stared pointedly away from him.

    ¡°Right. Of course, I¡¯ll get right on it,¡± Fritz announced, turning to their three Door choices that were pressed into the pale stone wall.

    The first Door was boxy and made of a deeper yellow, almost orange, stone brick, carved with strange glyphs that he couldn¡¯t read. Fritz could smell dry, dusty air wafting out from its depths. He extended his Door Sense getting the distinct impression of danger, traps and a long hallway, but not of monsters.

    An excited grin spread wide on Fritz¡¯s face Sid noticing the expression asked, ¡°What¡¯s got you so pleased? More statues to grope?¡±

    Fritz didn¡¯t even bother being mock offended and replied eagerly, ¡°Trap room, or at least I think it is!¡±

    ¡°Nice, Trap Sense and by extension, Fritz, is about to be useful. Finally,¡± Bert mocked.

    ¡°Well let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves, we should check the other Doors first. Just in case,¡± Fritz said but thought it unlikely that there¡¯d be an easier Door.

    He strode to the second Door, a passage of natural dark, almost black stone. There was a decided heat emanating from the room and his Sense gave him the feeling that there would be both monsters, scaly ones, and intense heat to deal with.

    ¡°Not this one, too hot,¡± Fritz concluded as if he were reprimanding a servant who had given him still boiling tea.

    The last Door was that reoccurring grey stone brick Door, with the scent of rot blowing out, but the intensity of the rotting smell was much worse than before. He wondered what his Door Senses had to say about it then used it on the ominous tomb-like entrance. He had been right, there was a profound wrongness to the Door, he saw images of shuffling corpses and felt their insatiable hunger for living flesh.

    Fritz shivered. Extremely glad they had never chosen this door.

    ¡°Undead,¡± Fritz said simply.

    Sid and Bert grimaced at his proclamation.

    ¡°It¡¯s always worth it to avoid undead my boy,¡± Fritz said under his breath, in an echo of his father''s tones.

    Shaking off the melancholy his father¡¯s memory elicited, Fritz strode back to the Trap Room Door, and gestured to it asking the others, ¡°Are we happy trusting in my Trap Sense and taking this Door?¡±

    Sid and Bert nodded, seemingly completely sure of him, even though he wasn¡¯t quite sure of himself. The Spires were always dangerous, even if you came prepared, and they didn¡¯t come prepared. Whether this Door was a lucky break or a devious trick, in the end waiting wouldn¡¯t change anything so he walked up the orange-yellow brick stairs into the dusty dark.

    They quickly ascended the stairway finding themselves in an unlit room, they pulled out their amber glowstones to light their way. The swirling light illuminated the darkness revealing a hallway of stone brick and a floor of strange tiles that was carved with strange unreadable glyphs.

    Fritz could tell the whole hallway was trapped, his mind buzzed every time he scanned the room, finding tiny holes hidden between stone bricks connected to small tubes riddled in the mortar of the walls. Those same walls were littered with glyph carvings, possibly a solution to the obviously trapped tiles.

    ¡°Only step where I step,¡± Fritz commanded.

    There were two grunts of affirmation from behind and Fritz went to take a step forward onto a carved tile in front of him but as he was about to place his foot down he felt a trilling in his mind, a warning not to place his foot down. Trapped. He moved his foot to the right, over another of the glyphed tiles and felt the same trilling warning. Okay to the left then.

    With his heart beating quickly he hovered his foot over the tile to the left and finding that he felt no warning, he placed his weight upon the tile. It sank beneath his foot and the something behind the walls clanked and shuddered. Grainy dust fell in small streams from over head. His heart pounded harder in his chest and he had to fight the instinct to run even though his body screamed at him that he had activated the trap.

    Fritz¡¯s senses and mind were telling him differently, that everything was fine, there was no danger and he chose to trust them over his deceitful body.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move! Stay still!¡± Fritz Shouted over Bert and Sid¡¯s yells of alarm.

    The clanking and shuddering stopped. Just as his senses had predicted nothing had happened, they were safe and the falling lines of sandy dust ceased pouring from the roof.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Fritz breathed out a heavy sigh and near collapsed from relief, his legs were still shaking in excitement or fear but he stood tall. I have to set a good example for the crew, he told himself.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Sid hissed angrily.

    ¡°Something to make us panic and trigger the real traps I suppose,¡± Fritz theorised.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s so evil,¡± Bert groused, both angry and impressed at the Spires killing ingenuity.

    ¡°Oh yeah, this Spire is nasty alright. Well, make sure to follow exactly where I go, no missteps allowed, or I¡¯ll halve your shares,¡± Fritz instructed as he repeated his searching steps and found the next safe tile easily.

    He stepped and there was no clanking or shuddering this time, so he continued on in the same vein walking slowly down the hallway. The other two walked after him carefully watching where to put their feet.

    ¡°Who made you the Climb Captain?¡± Sid complained as she followed after Bert.

    ¡°There was a vote, you must have missed it,¡¯ Fritz lied easily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember voting for you either,¡± Bert added. ¡°I call for another Captain election.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do that in the middle of a Spire! That¡¯s mutiny and as Captain, I cannot let it stand!¡± Fritz cried out, his voice echoing down the hall and causing fine dust to fall from the roof for a moment.

    ¡°All who consider Bert to be the obvious and more handsome choice say aye,¡± Bert declared before saying ¡°Aye,¡± to his own proposal.

    Sid and Fritz were silent, still plodding along the hallway careful of where they stepped.

    ¡°What only one vote?¡± Bert said in mock astoundment. ¡°Okay, who has another nomination for Captain?¡±

    ¡°I vote for Sid,¡± Fritz announced.

    ¡°Wait. What? I thought you just said you couldn¡¯t let this ¡®mutiny¡¯ stand?¡± Sid asked baffled.

    ¡°Yeah, I wanna get in on the new Captain¡¯s good side, it''s called politics. Try and keep up would you?¡± Fritz explained annoyingly.

    ¡°Damn it, I also vote for Sid then, can¡¯t let Fritz be the favourite,¡± Bert hastily added, slyly winking at Sid from over his shoulder.

    ¡°I refuse,¡± Sid said flatly. ¡°No, Captains.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine,¡± Fritz agreed.

    ¡°Aye Captain,¡± Bert replied to Sid as she scowled at his back.

    Fritz padded ever forward, sweeping his eyes across the room making sure there were no other traps. It was lucky that he did so because hanging at his neckline was a thin coppery wire that stretched from wall to wall. He had almost missed the wire as its buzzing warning got lost amongst the constant hum of the tiles.

    Fritz alerted Bert with their hand signals and he in turn translated to Sid in a whisper, ¡°Wire traps ahead, around neck height.¡±

    Sid nodded, and they continued on, stepping carefully and ducking under the lines of dull wire as they sporadically appeared.

    It took about five minutes all told to cross the hallway and find themselves at the next Stairway up. Fritz looked back in shock, surprised at how...easy it had been. No triggered traps no last-minute rush, just a steady advance and then it was over. It had been stressful of course, but his Abilities didn¡¯t lead him astray and they succeeded.

    He waited for the other shoe to drop, deeply distrusting of the ease with which they passed through the rest of the hallway. But nothing happened.

    ¡°Fritz, you okay? Can we go up now?¡± Sid whispered her eyes worried and searching for hidden danger.

    Fritz nodded and turned, putting one foot on the stairs and heading upwards. They sighed in relief as they climbed the staircase, leaving any talk for the Well Room where they would be safe to speak.

    This Well Room was similar to the hallway they just left, a small square room with a dark stone obelisk, glowing with silver light, in its centre. Dust swirled through the air and Fritz coughed as some of the gritty substance caught in his throat.

    They made their way to the obelisk and placed their hands upon it, claiming their due. Cool energy seeped into Fritz and he quickly fell into his Sanctum greeting the rain with a satisfied smile. He slid his hand on his willow¡¯s smooth grey bark and felt the power coldly burn him from within.

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    He thought on where to assign these new attributes, maybe Control? Maybe Endurance again? But Awareness called to him, a siren song that teased him with the secrets of the unseen. That and it probably saved him in the trap room. He assigned all three to Awareness and left his Sanctum to continue his Climb.

    ¡°That floor was surprisingly quick,¡± Sid commented as she rose from her own Sanctum.

    ¡°And easy,¡± Bert rejoined.

    ¡°Preparation, Awareness and the right Abilities can make Climbing far less dangerous,¡± Fritz espoused. ¡°That¡¯s why Guides can command the exorbitant fees they charge as well as generally an extra share in a Climbing team. When floors can be chosen according to what your team is good at and you can avoid the deathtraps, many a team is willing to pay extra.¡±

    ¡°I can see why, that was what five minutes and we cleared an entire floor? Easiest Attributes of my life,¡± Bert confirmed.

    ¡°Yeah, well this Spire is more dangerous than most, and we weren¡¯t prepared. So it¡¯s no wonder we¡¯ve had such a hard slog on the earlier floors,¡± Fritz reflected.

    ¡°Are you likely to get any more Guide abilities, Fritz?¡± Sid asked suddenly.

    ¡°I think so, I think Treasure Sense is close, as I¡¯ve discovered two chests in one Climb and I already have two other Sense aligned Abilities.¡±

    ¡°Treasure Sense?¡± Sid said incredulous. ¡°Is that a real Ability? I always assumed it was an overblown rumour.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it''s real. My father had it in fact, not that it matters though, I don¡¯t have that particular Latent Trait for the Spire to empower.¡±

    ¡°Latent Traits,¡± Sid spat. ¡°So unfair.¡±

    Fritz nodded in agreement, even though he had one now from his entanglement with the Faeries. He still resented those who were given or inherited Latent Traits. He sighed knowing his anger wouldn¡¯t help him in the long run and stewing on the unjustness of the world was counterproductive in his current predicament. It could wait until he was out of the Spire and maybe not even then could he do anything about it. Yet.

    ¡°That was the fifth floor, right?¡± Bert asked. ¡°How many more do you think we have left, think it¡¯s as tall as the Rain Spire?¡±

    ¡°No, not as tall as the Rain Spire, it¡¯s probably a Minor Spire. If it were a Lesser Spire the Nightshark would have taken over Rain City with all the extra Powers and Treasures he could acquire from it. So to answer your question I think we have five more levels,¡± Fritz estimated.

    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Bert said nodding.

    ¡°Speaking of five more levels, shall we get going?¡± Sid suggested motioning to the Doors with impatience, probably bored of the current topic.

    Fritz nodded shouldering his traveller''s pack and walking to the next set of three doors. He looked them over first with his normal senses, then with Door Sense and Awareness.

    The first Door was an arch of what used to be living wood covered in a grey and gold mould. It reeked like a baker¡¯s flooded cellar after a month of stagnating. He felt that this one would be infectious and knew that if they walked through this Door they too would succumb to the mould and spread the spores. Fritz shuddered at the vividness of the feeling, he suspected that his heightened Awareness must be making his Door Sense more potent.

    He crossed this Door off his list immediately, maybe if they had antidotes for poison or infection he could choose this Door but as they were it would be a death sentence and not a pleasant one at that. He could think of few ways to die that were worse than slowly being consumed by mould.

    He turned to the next Door, a tunnel of natural rock of red streaked with white and a ramp of white sand. Blowing out of the entrance were hot winds, dry as the hallway, with a scent of salt heavy on its currents. He sensed deprivation, wandering and barren emptiness. An endless expanse of sand and salt.

    Navigation or Survival floor? Might be possible with my high perception.

    The last Door led into a cave of pure quartz, looking naturally formed but polished to a gleaming sheen, there was heat, but it was moderate and humid, more like the goblin tunnel than the Door beside it. From within the white tunnel he could hear the high, chirruping cries of beasts, and felt that the tunnels ahead would be stalked by solitary monsters. He felt for more information pushing his new Awareness harder than he had with the last Door.

    For his efforts, he got the instinctual feeling that the monsters were ambush predators and well-suited to their environment.

    Fritz stepped back and relayed what he had discovered to Bert and Sid, finishing up with, ¡°I think we can either choose the middle door or the last door, thoughts?¡±

    ¡°How does our food and water look,¡± Sid asked, running a hand through her grimy blond hair.

    ¡°Sparse, it¡¯s not time to starve. Yet. But we¡¯re getting close. A couple of days, maybe less considering how much food I¡¯ve been needing to eat,¡± Bert replied stoically.

    ¡°I¡¯m all for having another easy floor, but what if the barren Floor takes too long to cross and we starve or more likely die of thirst?¡± Sid thought out loud, squeezing at her water skin checking its fullness.

    Fritz agreed, he did relish the idea of another floor without monsters hunting them down but they were being somewhat pushed into a corner.

    ¡°I agree with Sid,¡± Bert tried to say seriously, but there was a grin spreading across his face that he quickly suppressed. The madman is probably excited to fight more monsters, Fritz observed.

    ¡°Fair enough, the ambush tunnels then?¡± Fritz said, shrugging his travel pack into a more comfortable position.

    Sid and Bert nodded.

    Fritz strode to the quartz tunnel and his crew followed.

    The heat in the tunnel was stifling, but bearable. The walls of quartz radiated a damp warmth so Fritz stood away from them, trying to retain what little coolness he could. The stairway opened up into the sixth floor, the tunnel widening enough that three people could stand abreast and the roof extending to at least twice Fritz''s height. The air was heavy, almost like it was raining and the roof and walls were covered in drops and trickles of water that made the floor slightly slippery.

    Not slippery enough to slip up anyone from Rain City, they were far too used to the slick cobblestone streets or in Fritz¡¯s case the perilously wet and smooth tiles of roofs. He caught a drop of water on his finger and tasted it. It was stale, and ever so slightly salty, more than good enough to drink in Fritz¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Wait here, ambush predators, I¡¯ll scout ahead. If I¡¯m not back in twenty minutes then follow. Maybe collect some of the water while I¡¯m away, seems okay to drink,¡± Fritz calmly ordered, leaving his pack behind for his crew to guard.

    Fritz didn¡¯t need his amber glowstone to see ahead, the cloudy quartz was lit by shafts of light that the crystal seemed to eat and scatter causing the walls, floor and ceiling to shed a soft glow. Fritz made his way forward, through the gleaming cloudy white caves, he almost felt like he was walking through the inside of some great leviathan¡¯s bones. The humidity was already begining to take it''s toll, it had only been a couple of minutes but he was already drenched in sweat and it dripped to the gleaming ground.

    The tunnels weren¡¯t entirely uniform, they wound and winded, occasionally there were fallen hunks of quartz that measured from the length of Fritz''s leg and some that came to his shoulder either lying in piles or standing alone.

    Fritz kept his eyes and ears open and he passed by another pile of fallen stones. He noticed that the roof was also not particularly smooth, with cracks and quartz hanging precariously over Fritz¡¯s head. Strangely enough, these stones didn¡¯t radiate any kind of response from Trap Sense, but he still got a bad feeling about them. He made sure never to walk directly under them giving both them and the fallen stones with a wide berth when he could.

    He had been stalking the way ahead when from behind he felt something. He stood still and listened and heard a sticky, slapping and sucking noise that was following in his tracks. He turned, then crouched behind a hunk of fallen quartz, watching and waiting for his pursuer to appear.

    The slipping, sucking and slapping continued to get ever closer, it was like hearing someone roll a toffee in their mouth and never swallowing it down. It was disgusting to listen to, and it felt even worse to speculate about what was making it.

    From the turn in the passage, he saw a piece of fallen quartz moving ever so slowly, shuddering as if being dragged. It stood at about equal to Fritz¡¯s sternum and was as wide as both his arms outstretched. Following Fritz¡¯s trail unerringly the quartz jerkily slid closer and closer with those incessant sticky, sucking noises it made as it moved.

    Then he saw it. As it unfurled from its quartz-like shell. He had never been so shocked, so scared, of something that resembled a creature so common in his city.

 Chapter 33

    The giant snail¡¯s skin was not the lumpy light grey of its smaller cousins but a bright rust-red riddled with salt-white cracks. Its flesh was slimy and sticky, covered with a thin layer of cloudy mucus. Three thin stalks unfurled from its thick, tuberous body as it left its quartz-coloured shell. The stalks undulated and mustard yellow egg-like orbs slid up their length and swayed this way and that as if searching the area for Fritz. Two long, fang-lined tendrils extended from under the shell and swished through the air skittering off fallen quartz and the tunnel¡¯s wall.

    One of the tendrils caressed the ground where Fritz had been just a minute ago, the snail shuddered as it drank in the water. No not the water, he realised, it was a drop of his sweat. It let out a soft, shrill chirrup and pulled its sternum-height shell closer, jerkily following the trail Fritz had inadvertently left behind. With its full body revealed he saw that its eye stalks had stretched to the top of his head in height and its writhing tentacles reached even further.

    How do I keep walking straight into these monsters? Fritz complained inwardly. Really, I¡¯m meant to be a scout and yet here I am being hunted down by a bloody snail of all things.

    Fritz prepared himself to fight the horrible creature, stilling his jitters with a combination of slow breathing and subtle flexing of his muscles. While clenching his hand he felt his new ring, in his fear he had almost forgotten about the new equipment in his arsenal. The snail approached, slithering closer and closer to his hiding place behind the quartz boulder. Fritz activated his ring and pounced.

    As he ran out he pulled on the shifting Power of Illusory Shadow, not bothering to shape it he let it appear over and around the creature''s eye stalks, covering them with a sphere of impenetrable blackness.

    Its tentacles waved wildly, sweeping the cavern for its unseen attacker and a circular maw of jagged fangs opened in the middle of its mucusy mass. The creature began to shrilly ululate and shudder rhythmically. Fritz felt he shouldn¡¯t be in front of that maw so stepped to the side, almost too late as a white spray of misty liquid geysered out painting the middle of the tunnel and a part of Fritz¡¯s upper arm with white.

    The barrier stopped the majority of the liquid spray from coming in contact with his skin, but the invisible bubble still popped within moments allowing a couple of drops fall and foam on his skin. It burnt like flame, no worse than flame, it was agony Fritz clenched his teeth and muffled his scream. He swung his fish blade where he knew the eye stalks to be, he met little resistance as his sword hacked through them. He ducked under a swinging tendril, slicing up with his bone dagger and hewing it in half.

    He leapt backwards out of the reach of the other tentacles and saw the three eye stalks fall to the quartz ground, spitting out a thick, frothy, yellow sludge that sizzled on the crystal ground. The smell of both the goo and spray was intense and their acrid, overwhelmingly salty odor choked him. driving him back a couple more paces.

    Fritz cursed as he saw three spots on his fish blade rapidly rusting. He sped away from the thrashing tentacles and he hastily wiped the corrosive goo off with his shirt sleeve, cutting the fabric apart in the process. He didn¡¯t have time to check the damage and he found his bone blade hadn¡¯t been affected by the creature''s acidic blood. He dropped his fish blade safely behind him, switched the dagger to his dominant right hand and reactivated his barrier ring.

    Waiting for an opportune moment to strike, he saw his Illusory Shadow fade away giving him a better view of his opponent. Fritz noticed, with mounting horror, that the frothing wounds of the creature''s severed eye-stalks still poking from its slimy body were starting to reform, extending again as new eyes were grown in moments.

    The newly formed eyes were still cloudy and Fritz hoped that meant they weren¡¯t fully restored and capable. Clenching his fist around the bone dagger''s hilt he charged forward, slipping under another sweeping fanged tendril while calling upon the blade''s curse and thrusting its curved tip into the snail''s slimy body.

    He felt rather than saw the curse strike''s cold dirge-like energies wrap around the blade and then seep into the hole he had just stabbed, he pulled the dagger down, splitting the creature open. Fritz leapt back, dodging any blood splatters and out of reach of the now flailing tentacles. He saw the snail¡¯s flesh burst apart from itself like an overcooked sausage and strange unidentifiable entrails unfurled, spilling onto the ground.

    Whatever ability it used to recover from injury seemed to be suppressed by the cursed blade¡¯s Power and the creature writhed and shrieked in shrill agony as gouts of foaming yellow goo poured from it. The creature struggled for what seemed like minutes before finally lying still and hopefully dead.

    Disgusting.

    His upper arm still tingled and burned so he inspected what damage the caustic spray had caused. His sleeve was a mass of holes and his skin was bright pink where it showed through the fabric. Scattered on his raw skin he had a couple of small, painful blisters forming where the snail¡¯s spray had been spat onto him.

    There wasn¡¯t much to do for the injury here and now so he put on a grim expression and turned to his fish blade and picked it up. Now that he had the time, Fritz searched his sword for any harm, to his dismay he could see three tarnished spots on the edge of his silvery blade. He seemed to have got most of the stuff off in time but those three small brownish stains still worried him.

    ¡°Oh, Quicksilver, unfortunately, I¡¯ll have to refrain from using you on this floor. It¡¯s for your own safety you understand?¡± Fritz told his blade mournfully.

    The blade glittered in accusation.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t bear it if you rusted away, please just stop arguing,¡± Fritz added affectionately.

    Quicksilver glimmered in frustrated acceptance.

    Fritz decided to return to his crew, making sure to try and catch any sweat that threatened to drip from his hair and face. He knew it was a fruitless endeavour but he used his remaining sleeve to wipe down his brow and neck whenever he felt the trickle of escaping sweat.

    Keeping his eyes open for any signs of snails he continued on, weaving around the fallen quartz carefully and making sure to never touch or stand under the boulders and hunks of cloudy crystal. It was tough going but he made it back without any more incidents, save seeing maybe one or two of the quarts piles shudder as he skulked past. He had quickly left them behind though not willing to tangle with any more of the monsters if he could help it.

    He made his way back, signalling Bert with the low to high whistle imitation of a storm hawk. Sid spun bending her bow and nocking a translucent conjured arrow. Bert to his credit stood in front of the bow before she could loose on Fritz.

    Sid relaxed in a moment, then looked away guiltily and said ¡°Sorry, Fritz, thought you were a monster, or had brought one with you as usual.¡±

    ¡°I resent that sentiment,¡± Fritz said in overplayed foppish offence. ¡°For one, how could one possibly mistake the great Sir Fritz for a monster? For two, you can clearly see I haven¡¯t been followed.¡±

    ¡°So you met no monsters out there?¡± interjected Bert. He did so quite rudely to Fritz¡¯s mind.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Fritz scoffed as if the answer were obvious. They didn¡¯t take the bait.

    ¡°Did you find the ambush predators?¡± Bert asked again this time with a knowing grin.

    ¡°I did, but I felled it with a swift slash of my fish- of Quicksilver,¡± Fritz answered smirking then flourishing his fish blade.

    ¡°Okay, okay. Fritz, what actually happened?¡± Bert said seriously. ¡°A proper report from a proper scout if you would.¡±

    Fritz dropped the smirk and relayed all he had learnt so far about the monsters in the tunnels. He ended his tale with how he had to gut the creature with his bone knife rather than his fish blade and showed off his blistered arm.

    ¡°Ouch, looks like that stings,¡± Sid remarked almost sounding sympathetic.

    ¡°More like it burns, it¡¯s like I rubbed a still-hot ember on my arm,¡± Fritz complained. ¡°I would¡¯ve poured some water on it but there doesn¡¯t seem to be enough around, excepting these trickles.¡±

    ¡°We managed to fill about an eighth of this spare water skin,¡± Sid stated offering Fritz said water skin.

    He took it gratefully and uncorked its neck. ¡°Spare¡¯s?¡± He asked as he splashed water onto his red and blistered skin. ¡°Where did we get spareaaaaaaaaaaghs!?¡± Fritz yelled as the lukewarm water wet his injured arm, then he bit down the borderline shriek, clenching his jaws and turning it into a hiss.

    It had been far more painful than he expected it to be but the throbbing heat burnt away in a couple of moments.

    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t happen to have any healing grease left?¡± Fritz whined, extracting a careworn look from both Bert and Sid.

    ¡°Sorry, used the last of it on you after you kill- fought Steve,¡± Sid explained carefully.

    ¡°Damn,¡± Fritz sighed, as his eyes leaked from the shock of pain, he quickly caught his tears and glanced around the tunnel making sure there were no snails slithering up on them.

    Sid and Bert noticed his reaction and looked around themselves. Luckily there was nothing, for now at least.

    ¡°So, the ambush predators are big quartz-shelled snails that track our sweat, spray acid and recover quickly from damage?¡± Bert asked trying to get all the facts sorted out in his mind.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the acid blood as well,¡± Sid reminded, twanging her bowstring in an absent-minded gesture.

    ¡°Frankly, I¡¯m envious,¡± Bert proclaimed sourly.

    ¡°Of me?¡± Fritz said confused.

    ¡°Of the snail,¡± Bert answered earnestly.

    ¡°Is it the three eyes or the tentacles that¡¯s got you so worked up?¡± Sid said slyly. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s the spray?¡± She waggled her eyes suggestively. The expression looked so incongruous on her normally sternly cast features that Fritz nearly fell over in shock.

    ¡°It¡¯s actually the acid blood but I wouldn¡¯t say no to the spray,¡± Bert responded waggling his own eyebrows in kind.

    They burst out laughing, even Fritz joined in after he had gotten over his surprise. After they had ended their wild mirth and mild giggling Fritz said, ¡°We¡¯ll I hope the snails can¡¯t hear otherwise we¡¯ve just revealed our position.¡±

    They listened but heard nothing save the occasional drip of slightly salty water. It felt good to laugh, the stress had really been building up on them and he hadn¡¯t noticed. Fritz was glad Sid had been the one to ease the tension this time, they were really beginning to act like a proper crew.

    ¡°What''s the plan on dealing with the snails then?¡± Sid asked curtly, getting back to business.

    ¡°Loose arrows from afar, if they get close Bert distracts and I flank with the cursed dagger,¡± Fritz suggested. ¡°Oh, and I need to recharge my equipment,¡± he added.

    ¡°You know,¡± Bert mused, ¡°For once I¡¯d like to have something I could actually beat on without worry.¡±

    ¡°You and me both, Bert. Even Quicksilver agrees,¡± said Fritz joining his friend¡¯s lament.

    After the brief complaining they agreed on the course of action easily and Bert happily opened his pack so Fritz could get at the bull¡¯s heart. With his ring and dagger filled to the brim and near humming with magic he set quietly off down the tunnel with his crew behind him.

    Whenever they came close to a suspicious pile of stones or hanging rocks, he had Sid sling them, just to make sure they were what they looked like. It wasn¡¯t long before they discovered their first snail, it was smaller than the one Fritz had killed as its shell only reached his waist.

    Sid¡¯s stone bounced off the quartz stone with a telling clunk then a jagged tendril and an eye stalk poked out the base of the snail¡¯s shell. Spotting its attacker the slimy monster unfurled and slithered closer surprisingly quickly. It used its tendrils to drag itself toward them and opened its toothy maw, undulating and preparing to spit its vile spray, right at Sid.

    It didn¡¯t get the chance to release. Sid had swapped quickly from her sling to her bow and had loosed a translucent arrow writhed in winding winds. It pierced through the snail''s rust-red mass, tearing a hole the size of a fist and shattering as it struck the shell behind. Fragments of the arrow were accelerated by the burst of air from the detonating wind strike and ricocheted. The clear glass-like shards dug into the creature¡¯s soft flesh and splattered its yellow goo haphazardly.

    The snail let out a low warbling cry and fled into its shell, shielding and hiding its torn and bleeding body. Its shell clacked down into contact with the ground, leaving barely a seam separating them. Sid let fly another conjured wind arrow, it burst against the shell doing nothing more than cutting a small furrow in its white, stony surface.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Sid exhaled, ¡°Wasted an arrow.¡±

    ¡°Bert go punch that thing while it''s recovering,¡± Fritz ordered hastily.

    ¡°Better idea,¡± Bert responded dropping his pack and taking out the hammer and chisel out of one of the outer pouches. He sauntered up to the sheltered snail, rolling his shoulders exaggeratedly as he approached.

    Bert set the tool to the creature¡¯s shell and infused his hammer with Concussive Blow. He struck the black metal of the chisel and the rippling waves travelled into it, spiking it into the shell and leaving a neat hole where it had previously been.

    ¡°Whoops!¡± Bert exclaimed, his eyes wide in shock.

    The creature''s shell shuddered and yellow sludge poured from the hole. Fritz expected the wound to close and for the snail to stop spilling its horrid, pungently-salty blood onto the floor but to his surprise the injury kept leaking.

    ¡°Smash its shell to pieces! I don¡¯t think it can heal it!¡± Fritz called out.

    Bert grinned, he tucked the small hammer into a vest pocket then his first rippled with roiling, clear waves of force. He, idiotically, punched just below the hole he had punctured, caving in a head-sized potion of the shell but covering his fist with the creature¡¯s corrosive yellow goo as it gushed out of the new wound. He screamed and leapt back, not willing to have his feet soaked in the substance that was now eating away at his skin.

    The snail shuddered again and its tendrils and body slid out from the shell limp and unmoving.

    Bert shook what slime he could off of his fist and rubbed the remaining clinging and stinging liquid onto his pants. He immediately regretted it, groaning as the goo stained and burned holes in the heavy, white material.

    ¡°I just got these,¡± He groused pitiably through gritted teeth.

    ¡°And you lost the chisel,¡± Fritz observed, striding up to his friend. ¡°Let¡¯s see your hand.¡±

    Bert reached out his arm for Fritz to inspect. It wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as he expected, it was red but there were no blisters or other obvious burns.

    ¡°Look¡¯s like it¡¯ll be fine, the blood isn¡¯t as corrosive as the spray, plus it looks like tough skin helped somewhat,¡± Fritz theorised, hoping his conclusions weren¡¯t completely wrong.

    ¡°Still, best not to bathe in the stuff, Bert,¡± he chided.

    ¡°What about the chisel? How are we gonna get it back?¡± Sid asked, looking over their kill.

    ¡°Assuming it hasn¡¯t rusted away in its guts already?¡± Fritz reminded her.

    Bert sighed, stood and walked over to the snail''s corpse, then before Fritz could stop him plunged his arm into the shell¡¯s cavity. He hissed and rooted around in the creature¡¯s sloshing and slurping organs.

    ¡°Bert, no!¡± Fritz yelled and rushed to his side intent on pulling him out. When Bert suddenly pulled his arm free, now holding the spike of black then dropping it to the ground where it landed with a heavy thunk.

    ¡°Get... me... my¡­ spare¡­ clothes,¡± Bert exhaled through his clenched jaws and pain-contorted scowl.

    Fritz rushed to obey the request, grabbing the ragged clothing from within Bert¡¯s pack and using it to clear the slime off Bert¡¯s arm. He was groaning and hissing in pain as Fritz worked at wiping away all he could. It seemed though that the hurt he sustained was minimal, more akin to a light burn from sleeping too close to a fire than anything too serious.

    Bert for his part didn¡¯t seem too concerned about his skin and was bemoaning the large hole in his pants, exposing his silken red undergarments and their crest of a white ship.

    Sid stared at the telling crest, recognised it and turned to Fritz in shock, mouth agape, ¡°You really did raid Lord Whiteship¡¯s vault?¡± She said in a high unbelieving tone.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz responded surprised at the sudden shift in topic.

    ¡°That crest, it¡¯s Lord Whiteship¡¯s¡± Sid said pointing at the embroidered crest.

    Bert covered the hole in false modesty saying, ¡°Don¡¯t look! My purity will be sullied!¡±

    Sid rolled her eyes and Fritz chuckled at the comment.

    Sid glared at Fritz waiting for him to speak up and he sighed as if bored of offering such explanations.

    ¡°It''s not as grand as it sounds, I didn¡¯t rob the vault, merely his wardrobe, specifically his and his lady wife''s undergarments closet,¡± Fritz hedged, running his hand through his sweat-heavy hair.

    ¡°Oh is that it is it?¡± Sid said, her shock and awe fading from her expression.

    Fritz frowned, that was still quite the feat, even if he did play it down in a false show of humility.

    ¡°Well, it was still quite the score you know, no jewellery, gold or magic items but plenty of silken gowns, undergarments and luxuriously soft robes of other exotic and wonderful fabrics. We made somewhat of a killing selling them to Jastil merchants. And those we didn¡¯t sell we kept, can''t put a price on good underclothes. Or I guess you can, but I find them priceless,¡± Fritz boasted showing off a self-satisfied smile.

    Sid seemed mildly intrigued by the statement and was about to ask Fritz something when Bert pants glowed subtly and their holes began to shrink as the fabric of the garment re-knitted itself into its former pristine glory. Even the stains at the edges retreated disappearing as the yellow splotches steamed away.

    Bert jumped for joy and yelled out his triumph, ¡°Self-mending clothes! Self-cleaning pants! Look upon my shirt, ye filthy, and despair!¡±

    Fritz and Sid stared in wonder then glowered at Bert¡¯s luck. He smugly grinned at them and tilted his chin upwards, as if he were a great lord disdaining the peasantry.

    Fritz felt the overwhelming desire to throw something at that ridiculous face, but unfortunately, there was nothing at hand and he had to settle for raising his arm in a rude gesture. Sid followed suit adding in her own slightly more vulgar variant.

    This only made Bert grin wider, and he was about to address them again until Fritz sushed him and rapidly whispered, ¡°Shh, I hear another snail coming.¡± They fell silent and their faces became serious as they prepared for conflict.

    Fritz heard the telltale sound of slurping and sucking that the snail¡¯s movement produced grow closer. With his spare clothes Bert quickly scooped up the unrusted and undamaged chisel, wrapping it up and storing in in his pant¡¯s pocket. Eventually, the rest of his crew noticed the sounds when they grew close enough and prepared their weapons, or lack thereof in Bert¡¯s case.

    Time to whale on some snail.

 Chapter 34

    Fritz and his crew rushed forward to meet their enemy, now they knew the threat they were up against the fight went a lot smoother. For one Bert didn¡¯t melt his fists, nor lose the black chisel in the snail''s guts. For two Sid didn¡¯t waste another conjured arrow when the snail retreated into its shell after having a hole drilled through its spongy rust-red flesh by her initial wind-infused arrow.

    The battle felt rather rudimentary once they had the creature¡¯s measure. Bert was able to smash the snail¡¯s shell using only his Concussive Blow empowered fists causing the monster to ooze out its life sustaining goo, perishing before it could recover its punctured body. The only injury they suffered was a stray sweeping slash of a fanged tendril that sawed into Bert¡¯s ankle. That wound, however, quickly scabbed over and he was walking again in minutes, albeit with a slight limp.

    Fritz felt a little redundant, almost useless during the fight, but knew if he engaged the creature with Bert he would have just gotten in the way. Just not a foe I¡¯m suited to, in fact, if I didn¡¯t have the cursed dagger I think I would have died against the first one that found me, Fritz reflected dourly.

    Bert seemed to notice his mood and said, ¡°Cheer up, Fritz. If it weren¡¯t for you we¡¯d have been melted away by a surprise attack or something.¡± Fritz felt it wasn¡¯t entirely true but he was still reassured by his friend¡¯s irrepressibly optimistic presence.

    They continued on, Fritz leading the way and pointing out any suspicious quartz boulders. They only met another two snails, one larger than the one Fritz had beat himself and then another smaller, as they searched. They were quickly and safely dispatched by using the same tactics as before.

    ¡°Too easy,¡± Bert complained, then looking for something to occupy his attention; he fetched out the clothes-wrapped chisel and searched it for any signs of wear or rust. ¡°Chisel is fine, not a pit or scratch. I wonder what it¡¯s made of.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t whinge about a floor being too easy,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Easily gained Power is still Power. Plus I almost died.¡±

    ¡°You always almost die, Fritz. Quite frankly your brushes with death have become predictable, uninspired even,¡± Bert blandly taunted.

    ¡°Uninspired?¡± Fritz replied his face going blank.

    ¡°Tedious,¡± Bert agreed, opening a side pouch on his pack and placing the chisel by its paired hammer.

    ¡°Do you two ever stop bickering?¡± Sid bickered, frustration evident in her lowered voice.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°No,¡± Bert argued.

    Sid let out a wearied sigh.

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Fritz and Bert said together, smirking to each other.

    Sid sighed again, but Fritz thought he saw her suppressing a small smile of her own. They quieted down and kept moving forward to the sound of dripping water and their own near-silent steps. Occasionally they would come across the melted bones of some kind of dog-sized rodent, but they never saw hide nor hair of a living one.

    After almost half an hour of sneaking through the long and large tunnel, avoiding snails where they could, they came across a fork in the cavern. Fritz stood before the two passageways and pondered which way to go. He listened, peered down each and then when he couldn¡¯t make up his mind he decided to try his Senses.

    He felt, standing still and trying to absorb and sort as much detail as he could perceive. He included his new ephemeral sense of Awareness and touched on the Power of his Door Sense Trait, adding it to the myriad of strange sensations coursing through his body and being filtered into his mind.

    It was like he could feel the whole tunnel, hear every drop and trickle of water, the soft hiss of a snail¡¯s soft, hissing exhalations, the humid warmth and smell the ever-present scent of salt. Under all the other impressions though, he felt something else. Something on the edge of awareness. It was slight but it was there, like the lightest of breezes a small tingle in his chest that entreated him to go left. He smiled wide, glad and giddy that his Door Sense had given him something to go on and a clear direction forward.

    He motioned to the left giving his crew a confident smile then led the way ahead. This tunnel sloped downwards, which was not the way he would have usually gone had he chosen without the knowledge his senses gave him. Climbing higher was the safer bet after all, but he didn¡¯t dare distrust his Door Sense. No matter how faint the sensation was he felt confident that it was steering him the right way.

    The sloping of the tunnel continued downward until it sank below a pond of still, cloudy water, that was occasionally rippling from falling drops of water. It was a shallow pool that rose to their knees. Fritz worried about the noise they would make wading through its not-quite-clear depths but decided it was worth the risk and ploughed on until the tunnel opened up into a large cavern.

    Now that he was in the tall room he could hear a soft pattering. The unmistakable sound of rain. The cavern was at least a hundred yards across and filled with quartz-walled pools. Some were higher and some were lower and each pool¡¯s water was varying in its clearness, but in the centre the largest and tallest pool collected cloudy water as it drizzled down from the middle of the cavern¡¯s roof.

    The constantly dripping drops in the centremost pond encircled a spiralling, porous quartz pillar, internally inlaid with green-marbled steps. It protruded from the pool¡¯s bottom and reached to the ceiling connecting them like a tendon. Right by the pillar was exactly what Fritz dreaded to see, but expected all the same, a white quartz boulder twice as tall as himself covering what he supposed was the entrance to the Stairway.

    Sid and Bert waded to his side and stared at what he was staring at himself. Bert whistled and Sid scowled.

    ¡°That¡¯s a big one,¡± Bert observed. ¡°No chance it¡¯s just a normal hunk of quartz?¡±

    ¡°None,¡± Fritz said trying his best to keep his sourness to himself.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with, same plan,¡± Sid stated, plucking her bowstring.

    ¡°Get out the hammer and chisel, Bert,¡± Fritz said sternly. ¡°I don¡¯t think your fists will cut it for this one¡¯s shell.¡±

    Bert looked over the huge boulder sceptically but nodded in grudging acceptance of Fritz¡¯s claim.

    ¡°Sid, focus on the maw, keep it from spraying us, I¡¯ll try and do as much damage as I can with my dagger,¡± Fritz ordered. ¡°Bert make a hole as big as you can, and Don¡¯t. Get. Hit.¡±

    Fritz¡¯s feet squelched in his boots but he didn¡¯t dare take them off, every layer of clothing between his skin and the corrosive snail¡¯s fluids was greatly needed in his opinion. Bert however, abandoned his with glee, not even deigning to place them in his pack and instead just threw them over his shoulder and behind him like trash.

    ¡°Water¡¯s nice here,¡± Bert commented, with a sigh of contentment as he wiggled his toes in the pool¡¯s salty warmth.

    They waded towards the great quartz shell and it took all of Fritz¡¯s focus and courage to keep approaching the waiting snail. He felt the burning on his melted skin more keenly, almost to a distracting degree and tried not to think about being showered with the corrosive spray again, tried not to contemplate his fate if he was doused directly by a geyser of the salty acid.

    He shuddered, and his legs threatened to freeze, as he imagined his flesh being stripped away leaving only melting bone behind.

    ¡°Bert, please don¡¯t get hit,¡± Fritz whispered, it sounded almost like a prayer to his own ears. ¡°Same goes for you, Sid.¡±

    His soft words were lost amongst the sloshing of their steps. They reached the quartz wall of the tall pool in the centre of the room and placed their packs upon it, balancing them precariously. They shared meaningful looks, coloured with equal measures of apprehension and reassurance.

    ¡°Limber up first?¡± Fritz suggested, intent on delaying the inevitable fight.

    Bert shrugged and Sid nodded, then they practised the stretching exercises provided by the Arte Pugilist. Finishing up the set of warm-ups, they went over the plan one last time.

    ¡°If the snail moves out of the Stairway we take it right?¡± Sid asked, worrying at her scarf.

    ¡°Yep, get the packs first though,¡± Fritz affirmed and Bert nodded along.

    They stood in silence for a moment then Fritz moved and spoke, ¡°Over the top then. To victory.¡±

    He swung his body up and over the white lip of the pool and splashed into the water that crept up to his waist. Damn it''s deeper than the last one, it¡¯s going to make moving even harder.

    Ripples cascaded from them as their bodies hit the water''s surface, rolling away and sloshing against the great boulder no more than seven yards away. Fritz had suspected that even that small amount of disturbance would alert the beast causing it to unfurl and attack. He was glad to be wrong, it seemed the rain of salty drops would cover their approach.

    Still, they acted with caution standing in place prepared for the snail to react, but after a full minute of waiting Fritz let out a tensely held breath. Now that he was closer he could see the cloudy water drawn down and under the boulder, like it was being sucked in. Then after about twenty seconds, the water reversed, rushing up and out, clear and as pure as any rainwater.

    ¡°It¡¯s drinking the salt?¡± Bert asked softly.

    ¡°I thought snails were killed by salt. Makes no sense,¡± Sid grumbled softly.

    ¡°Monsters. Magic. Can¡¯t rely on reason,¡± Fritz espoused. ¡°Anyway enough monster watching, let¡¯s get into place.¡±

    Sid stayed in placing a conjured arrow to her bow, Bert and Fritz waded forward together as gently as they could manage, both taking the right side of the boulder-like monster. Bert prepared to place the chisel to the huge shell, holding it a couple of inches away from the quartz. He glanced to Fritz, who signalled ¡®Go.¡¯

    The spike of black metal clacked against the white shell and in one swift movement Bert empowered his hammer with rapid waves of force and stuck with all his considerable strength. With a crack the chisel stuck in the shell, jutting out like the tap on a keg of ale. Bert hastily readied another hammer blow but the shell shuddered, spun and rose, putting the spike out of his hammer¡¯s reach.

    Bert leapt after the escaping chisel, striking down with a glancing blow that only drove the black metal a little deeper. He fell, flopping face-first into the water and losing his hammer in its murky depths.

    The snail''s massive almost eighteen foot tall bulk unfurled, its great jagged maw opening and orienting in the direction of the attack on its side. One fanged tentacle twice as thick as Fritz¡¯s arm sprang out of the shell and swept towards Bert as he staggered to his feet spluttering.

    This was all part of the battle plan though, and Fritz was prepared. In a moment he gauged where he needed to be to intercept the tentacle, and raced into place. It was a near thing with the water slowing him down but he interposed his bone dagger between Bert and the thick tendril. He called upon the dagger¡¯s curse and it writhed with its nigh invisible energies.

    Fritz swept down the bone blade catching the toothy tentacle in one of the fleshy gaps between fangs, hewing away at its slimy muscle. It was like trying to slash a taut rope, complete with the stringy fibres snapping as they were cut by the cold, sharp edge.

    He grimaced as burning blood split onto his hand, trickling down from his dagger¡¯s hilt as the blade was covered in the foul fluids pouring forth from the snail¡¯s hacked-in-half limb. Fritz dragged the blade down and away and immediately dived into the pool beneath him as he spotted the second terrible tentacle whipping towards his head.

    The sound above Fritz was muffled under the water but he could still hear the shrill chirruping precluded the spitting of corrosive, foaming spray. He poked his head out to see where the snail was aiming, only to see the creature¡¯s maw be hit dead on by a whistling arrow and slam closed as yellow slime glugged out from the fresh puncture wound.

    To Fritz''s horror, he saw another smaller maw open on the rust-red snail¡¯s right side right in front of Bert as he rose from the roiling pool. He only had a moment to move, as the new fanged opening released a jet of misting spray into his chest. Bert¡¯s reaction was quick as he lunged to the side but not nearly quick enough as the liquid covered his left shoulder, upper arm and chest.

    Bert threw himself into the now chaotically sloshing pool, bubbles rising to the surface as he screamed his agony under the waves. Fritz stared on in shock as dread filled his heart but was shaken free of his inaction when Sid shouted something at him.

    ¡°Fritz the other tentacle!¡± She ordered again on seeing Fritz¡¯s confused expression, loosing a wooden arrow dripping with some viscous green-black substance covering its head. It struck the creature¡¯s bulk and stuck there before sizzling and falling away leaving behind a patch of dark pulsing veins.

    ¡°Get Bert the health potion,¡± Fritz begged over the raucous splashing. Then watched for the remaining undamaged tentacle.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Sid ran toward where they had last seen Bert and Fritz turned to study the tentacles and their slashing arcs. To his surprise the tendril he had cut had retracted back into the shell, obviously the curse was doing its job preventing the snail from regenerating its hideous appendage. Gritting his teeth and leaving Bert for Sid to worry about he traced the sweeping movement of the second tentacle as it came swooping down at Sid.

    He executed the same maneuver as before, running in and hacking his dagger down in the tendril¡¯s predictable swing. Unfortunately, the snail snaked its tentacle at an odd angle, abandoning its attack and pulling its fleshy, fanged limb out of his dagger¡¯s reach. Fritz cursed, then noticed that each of the creature''s bulbous eye-stalks were swivelling to keep its baleful, mustard-yellow gaze on each of them. Fritz felt it was now watching and wary of his cursed blade.

    Fritz grasped at the shifting shadowy power in his centre and an orb of darkness enveloped the stalk watching him. He felt the fatigue hit him as the magic left, but it didn¡¯t drain him as much as it had done before. His new Endurance was already paying off. He sprinted towards the snail¡¯s body, right for where the still active tendril originated, the water around him crashed in his wake and he activated his ring barrier ring. The near-invisible skein instantly enveloped him and he ducked under a wild sweep of the tendril, slipping it by an inch.

    Maybe he could have timed his approach better but he didn¡¯t feel he had the speed to plan out the perfect counter. Instead, he did what he could, running to the base of the snail¡¯s tuberous body and in front of the thick stem of the constantly slashing tendril. He wreathed his bone blade in its cold, keen curse and plunged the dagger down into the connective tissue between the loathsome limb and the rust-red slimy mass.

    The bone point pieced easily and stuck in the writhing flesh. Fritz was almost pulled off his feet as the snail lurched away from the bite of his blade. Still, he held on to the dagger as it stayed buried in the tentacle¡¯s ropy muscle. As he steadied his legs Fritz saw a third gnashing maw open right next to him, lined up perfectly to spray him full in the head and chest. The monstrous snail undulated and warbled its warning.

    Terror suffused and stiffened his body, his muscles froze, those same images of being melted away pounding across his weary skull. Move, Duck, Anything, Stab! His mind ordered and he was shocked to find it easy to obey. Shocked and thankful.

    Fritz yanked his bone blade free of the tentacle''s base and he called upon what he was sure was its last curse, felt the woeful power suffuse his next and possibly final strike. In a spinning motion and using all the momentum of pulling the dagger free, he thrust the bone blade using both hands into the quivering, squelching maw.

    He drove the dagger deep, cutting a rent in the spongy mass and nearly impaling himself on the maw¡¯s finger-length fangs. He was a moment too late, or maybe it didn¡¯t matter, yellow goop poured from the gash but still the caustic, foaming spray geysered forth, catching him full in the chest and arm. In that moment Fritz suspected he was dead or dying as his vision filled with white mist so he let his dagger go, leaving it stuck in the snail and dived into the water.

    His head crashed below the shallow pool''s roiling surface, and he was rocked and pushed away as new waves came from the now-heaving snail. His mind raced in confusion and absolute horror. Maybe the water can get some of the acid off? Maybe the health potion hasn¡¯t been used? Maybe I can be dragged to safety? Fritz clenched his eyes closed and waited for the searing agony to ravage his flesh as he floated away from the thrashing monster.

    The pain never came. That¡¯s funny, my death by agonising melting doesn¡¯t hurt as much as I thought it would, it only stings a little.

    He didn¡¯t dare risk opening his eyes not with the risk of them being burnt away by the acid, so he let the waves push him away and he swam with them gaining distance from the snail. After a few moments he regained wits and set his feet to the ground standing up, opening his eyes and assessing how badly he had been hurt. To his great surprise he was mostly fine.

    But I¡¯m sure I was hit directly, what happened? Baffled by his apparent uninjured state, Fritz rapidly looked at his hands checking his palms then quickly flipping them to see their backs. Then he spotted the ring and felt stupid, a moron even. Of course! The barrier saved me from the worst of the spray.

    He didn¡¯t have time to stand around thinking and thanking his lucky Spires. The fight was still on and his crew were in trouble. Bert was up and attempting to climb the snail¡¯s shell while Sid was loosing another green-black envenomed arrow that thudded into the snail¡¯s bulk. Bert was favouring one arm as the other looked like its skin and muscle were peeling away, revealing the bone beneath like his flesh had all the solidity of a soggy pastry.

    Fritz couldn¡¯t comprehend how much pain his friend was in or how he even kept on moving with such an injury. Bert¡¯s face was contorted in a feral snarl and in some mad rage he was putting everything he had into hammering away at the still stuck chisel with his rippling, bare fist. His hand bled and broke as he punched, then with sickening cracks and pops the bones would reform whole again only to be wreathed in the waves of force and slammed down over and over, splattering the black metal and white shell with his bright-red blood.

    Every strike was driving the chisel deeper, but only by a tiny, almost non-visible amount. Small cracks in the quartz shell were forming around the black metal but far too slowly. Fritz desperately watched the struggle as the first tentacle he had cut unfurled, not fully healed and still leaking yellow blood but now strong and nimble enough to sweep Bert off its shell and slash him to pieces if it reached him.

    It¡¯s not enough, we¡¯ll never break through it before we tire or are killed, the shell is stronger than stone. Wait, stone?

    He reached for his Power, aiming his Stone Pit Ability on the quartz around the chisel. He felt the spell touch the shell, then began to slip. No, no, no. Fritz thought furiously. He redoubled his effort and the magic stopped sliding and sank into the shell¡¯s surface. Once he felt the Ability take hold he forced it to push, to make a hole, any shape and size. Just. Make. A. Hole. He ordered.

    It didn¡¯t make a hole, but he could feel the shell shift under his magic, the layers of stone or crystal that the creature used, thinning in such a way as to cause it to crack easier as Bert hit it again. It wasn¡¯t perfect or even effective, but it would serve. Fritz cast his Stone Pit again, weakening the same spot and feeling his stamina leave him as the quartz shell thinned and became even more brittle.

    Again he cast, then again, he was suddenly on his knees from the drain. The water lapped at his chin as he kneeled, sunk up to his shoulders. The was a tremendous crack and the snail shrieked a pained or enraged chirruping note as Bert finally caved in the weakened and cracked spot on its shell with a powerful force-rippled strike. A three foot crater was opened in the white crystal, and salty yellow blood oozed out like a waterfall of chunky mustard. The snail screamed and thrashed, letting out a warbling high screech so loud that it threatened to burst Fritz¡¯s ears.

    Feeling no more stony resistance to his fist, Bert looked around in a daze and saw a fanged tentacle descending to swat him away. So in his haze of madness, he did the most insane thing Fritz had ever seen. Bert dove into the opening he had made in the shell, plunging in both arms, tearing away at organs and other fleshy sacks. He was pulling them, heaving guts and goo out of the breach like someone digging a hole with their bare hands, yelling curses the whole while as the yellow sludge scoured his skin as he hung halfway out of the shell.

    The tentacle was slowed due to the cut it had received earlier and Bert was able to quickly slip inside the beast just before the fanged feeler came down where he had been. More yellow putrescence flowed forth from the hole in the snail¡¯s shell, and each of the maws on its rust-red bulk began spraying unfocused streams of mist that billowed into caustic, white clouds.

    ¡°Bert!¡± Fritz cried out.

    Over the shrill warbling of the snail, he could hear Bert¡¯s answering yell, ¡°Fritz! Get me out!¡±

    Fritz cursed under his breath and spun on Sid, ¡°Sid, make a path in the mist. I¡¯m going in, Bert needs me.¡±

    Activating his ring he waded steadily towards the fog, not even waiting for Sid¡¯s response. The air around him swirled. An arrow passed by his head dispersing the fog in its wake and shattering against the shell with a burst of wind that further cleared the area around the breach in the quartz. The powerful gust also had the effect of cleaning the shell of most of the snail¡¯s acidic blood.

    Fritz was running, splashing through the pool as fast as he could, reaching the shell and leaping onto its rough surface avoiding any patches of yellow ooze. He clung to the excruciatingly warm shell and climbed until he was peering into the hole Bert had smashed. There his friend was, crouching in a dug-out hollow of the creature''s yellow, red and white insides.

    Bert had made an astonishingly deep tunnel in the creature''s body but Fritz thought he should¡¯ve been able to make it out without help. Bert only had to grab the hole¡¯s edge and pull his body up and out and he¡¯d be free. But he only thought that until he saw his friend¡¯s condition. Bert was as red as a boiled lobster, his clothes were in tatters, slowly melting away and he looked to be on the edge of consciousness, his milky eyes searching blindly for a way out.

    ¡°Bert! Catch!¡± Fritz yelled as he slipped the stamina potion from its hidden pocket in his sleeve and dropped it down to him. Bert¡¯s practised thief reflexes took over and he snatched the vial out of the air effortlessly. He stared at it dully and Fritz rapidly yelled, ¡°Potion! Drink it!¡±

    Bert obeyed slowly, unstoppering the vial as the shell shuddered. Fritz¡¯s heart stopped in his chest as Bert almost dropped the vial, instead of letting it spill he swept the potion into his mouth, glass and all, and swallowed.

    It wasn¡¯t a healing potion so Bert¡¯s wound didn¡¯t mend and close before his eyes but a certain strength and vigour returned to his stance and stature. He looked around wildly with his unseeing eyes and Fritz called out to him, ¡°Here! take my hand Bert I¡¯m right here!¡±

    He stretched out his arm to his friend and Bert staggered forward and seized his forearm in a vice-like grip, bursting the now fading barrier. Fritz heaved and Bert scrabbled up and over the edge and together they fell into the warm pool below.

    Fritz¡¯s skin began to sting, the pool¡¯s water was so polluted with the snail¡¯s fluids and slime that it had become viscous and was starting to take on some of its caustic qualities. He got his feet under him, stood and grabbed Bert¡¯s floating form, dragging him away from the thrashing beast, away to the relative safety of the pool¡¯s wall. He propped him up on the quartz wall then pushed him over the lip of the pool, into a more shallow one below it.

    Sid was still fighting, he could hear her loose another whirring arrow at the snail so Fritz turned to help. What he saw heartened him and lent his limbs a new burst of vigour. The monster was struggling, its warbling was falling in pitch and volume, sounding more and more like the beating of drums. It was punctured in many places and its wounds and rents poured out its corrosive blood. Showing no signs of healing soon, its two tentacles lay floating on the pool¡¯s surface, twitching but seemingly unable to pose any further threat.

    Was it the curse? Was it the venom arrows? Was it the enormous damage Bert did digging through its entrails, that had left it so weakened? Fritz couldn¡¯t say but he strode to Sid¡¯s side to help all the same. The snail dragged itself toward them, so horribly slow that Fritz almost felt pity for the creature, but when he remembered how much pain it had put Bert through that pity evaporated instantly.

    Sid was panting, sweat and dripping water plastered her darkened hair to her brow. Fritz could tell she was at her limits, her legs shaking from exertion and the use of her magic. She glanced tiredly at him when he was at her side and in a croaking voice she said, ¡°One more. To make a path.¡±

    Fritz nodded, exhausted, but prepared to charge in. He readied himself to grab his bone dagger from where it still protruded from a gurgling maw. Air gathered around Sid¡¯s last real arrow, whirling the wind then she loosed. The arrow cleared a path through the still-swirling, stinging mist. The wind wreathed arrow drilled another hole in the creature¡¯s slimy bulk and stuck there, not bursting like it would have against the shell and Fritz followed the path it cleared in the light fog.

    Again he used his ring¡¯s barrier and forced his leaden legs to run. Within moments he was standing, panting before the creature''s towering body. He reached out, pulled his dagger free from its fleshy prison and he slashed at any piece of the snail''s slimy flesh he could reach. The rust-red hide was both slippery and rubbery but the blade edge was as sharp as any physician''s scalpel and it parted the snail¡¯s hide easily as he cut it. More gashes were slashed, more yellow sludge splattered.

    Fritz¡¯s arm began to burn from overuse and stray globules of acidic blood so he switched hands and kept cutting away, leaving countless rents in his blade¡¯s wake. Eventually, with its mangled tentacles wobbling uselessly and its unfurled flesh scored all over, the snail shuddered one last time. Its great tuberous body crashed ponderously into the polluted water and it lay twitching, dying. Its chirrups stopped, and its skin paled around its wounds. The paleness slowly spread to the rest of its body and finally its twitching ceased.

    He staggered away, exhausted, back to Sid who was sitting perched on the low quartz lip. She hung her feet over the edge and upon Fritz¡¯s return she slipped into the pool below. A sensible choice now that this tall pond was being slowly filled with the snail¡¯s caustic fluids.

    Fritz joined her, sloshing down into knee-high water and lying against the wall feeling the warm pool reach his waist. He searched for Bert for a moment and upon seeing him floating peacefully, made to walk over and check his friend''s condition. His legs failed him, sore and shaking he splashed back onto his backside.

    Bert saw his struggling attempts to stand and waved him off with a groan. Fritz was glad to see that Bert''s skin looked better, a less deep red than it had been before. He seemingly, was on the mend.

    Fritz waved back tiredly but couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak. He was so tired, absolutely drained. Probably even dead. Melted away by acid.

    ¡°Oh. Woe. Death comes so slow. Death comes you know. Death comes you see. Death comes for me,¡± He rattled off in a soft, low tone.

    Then Fritz died.

 Chapter 35

    Sid checked on Bert first as he was the one who had taken the most wounds, when she had run to his side to give him the health potion in the fight he had waved her off saying something about Tough Skin and Vitality keeping him okay.

    She had done as he asked but was now worried that it had possibly killed him as he was now floating face up in the water.

    Looking at his condition, his ragged clothes and burnt and blistered body she could see he was still slowly breathing. He opened a misty eye to stare up at her. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he croaked before she could speak.

    ¡°Want that health potion now?¡± Sid asked gently.

    ¡°Nah. Just need a little more time and maybe a Well,¡± Bert rasped. ¡°Save it for someone at death¡¯s door.¡±

    She doubted his statement about being fine as he was still red all over, almost the colour of her scarf and his arm was a total mess. He wasn¡¯t bleeding too badly though, just a trickle from his left shoulder and arm. His strong chest looked as though the skin had been peeled off and flayed but she could see it was slowly mending. He must be in agony. Why isn¡¯t he screaming? I would be if my body was that hurt.

    Sid heard a splash that interrupted her thoughts and turned her head to the noise. Only to find Fritz had passed out sitting down and was face down in the water with bubbles pouring from his mouth and nose. She let a worried yell escape her throat and she waded towards him and scooped his head upwards and back into the air. He let out a small groan and grumbled some dramatic rhyme about being dead. Sid scoffed at his ridiculous mumbling but lay him back against the quartz wall and sat next to him, watching him so he didn¡¯t slip and drown, again. He better be thankful for this.

    While she watched and waited she made sure he wasn¡¯t injured, he had no obvious wounds so she let him rest. The only signs of ill health were the light reddening of his skin, a result of the corrosive fog and water. That and the dark circles under his eyes, but she was sure she also had those same dark rings. The only one who seemed to be sleeping well was Bert, but he hadn¡¯t had to kill anyone on the third floor.

    She wrung her scarf, tightly twisting it and feeling a snap of one of the woollen strands. ¡°Spire¡¯s Spite,¡± she cursed.

    In her agitation she inhaled deeply then wished she didn¡¯t as the pungent salty scent of the shrivelling snail entered her mouth. Sid turned her head to the side and spat, a deeply ingrained habit she had cultivated to make her seem rough. Her eyes widened and a chill ran down her back as she realised she had, in her distraction, spit right onto Fritz¡¯s cheek.

    She hastily wiped away the thick spittle with her sleeve desperately hoping he hadn¡¯t chosen time to wake, as he infuriatingly would have if he had the choice. With her hand to his face, she traced his sharp cheekbone with her thumb making sure she had gotten it all off, then again slower. Just to make sure. He sure is handsome. Especially while he¡¯s sleeping, her treacherous mind pointed out.

    Fritz¡¯s eyes fluttered then opened, staring deep into her own. Had the grey in his green eyes always been that light? Her heart pounded, and she snatched away the hand she had now realised was caressing the side of his face. She turned away quickly as her own face heated.

    ¡°Sid, why is it always you?¡± He asked with an infuriating smirk stretching his lips. ¡°Not that I¡¯m complaining mind you.¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re an idiot who puts himself in too much danger and so is Bert,¡± She replied as coolly as she could. ¡°Leaving it up to me to keep you safe after the battle ¡®cause you two overdo it.¡±

    She could feel herself start to shudder, the sure sign that tears would start leaking. The stress of the situation must be getting to her, she didn¡¯t care that deeply about them, right? Just needed a crew to help her climb, she told herself. Sid slid herself an inch or two away from Fritz now he had come to.

    Fritz had the good grace to look abashed for once, he took his eyes away from her and stared off into the distance.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± He said in a low serious tone. ¡°But it¡¯s as you said, back on the first floor, better get the big fish rather than the small fish. We have to take big risks just to survive here.¡±

    ¡°I know that,¡± Sid snapped back. ¡°It just ¡­ It just doesn¡¯t feel good to see you two getting beat up all the time and for me to be barely touched.¡±

    Tears were threatening to burst free and Fritz seemed to notice. Damn Perception. He tentatively put a hand on her shoulder and shook it lightly in commiseration. Sid could have dodged his touch easily but she didn¡¯t, allowing herself some comfort, even if she knew it was unwise to feel any kind of affection for the foolish thief. Her heart beat a little faster and she looked back at Fritz and into his intense grey-green gaze.

    He smiled a kind smile and she saw him blinking some wetness out of his own eyes. ¡°Just means you¡¯re more suited to this than us. Sid, you¡¯re a great archer, it''s our Role to keep our Striker healthy and hale. Don¡¯t worry so much, we¡¯ll be okay,¡± he said sombrely, free of his usual mocking tones or absurd bravado. Something in her chest swelled at his compliments but they didn''t dispel her worries at all, instead it made her fear all the more venomous.

    ¡°Until you''re not,¡± Sid finished for him in a whisper. Fritz didn¡¯t react to the comment, probably pretending he didn¡¯t hear me, the bastard.

    ¡°Especially with the fearsome Power we¡¯ll get in the next well room,¡± Fritz continued his voice changing back to his regular overly confident tenor. ¡°I¡¯m excited to see what we get! What¡¯s the bet Bert will get Acid Resistance or maybe something more needed like Imbued Brain: Less Dumb?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the bet Fritz will get something like Chameleon¡¯s Skin then ignore it for the far more annoying and situational Piercing Scream? He¡¯ll need it for when he¡¯s running away and needs our help,¡± Bert argued good-naturally back.

    Sid smiled, even though she knew now it was a bit of an act it still raised her spirits to see Fritz and Bert¡¯s insane bickering.

    Fritz squeezed her shoulder, let go, and gave her a smile, then stood while announcing, ¡°Where¡¯s that shaving kit and soap? I mean to take advantage of these warm pools and have a bath! Bert let''s go!¡±

    ¡°Give me an hour or two for my skin to stop burning, Fritz,¡± Bert whined.

    ---

    Fritz strode to his pack, trying to keep his legs steady as they quaked below him and the water sloshed. Just a little after-effect of the fight, he told himself. Upon reaching his pack, still lying on the pool¡¯s wall where he had left it, he unlatched it and removed the red wood box. Setting it down he unclasped it and opened the lid revealing the mirror and other items inside.

    ¡°Oi, Fritz, chuck me a bar of soap!¡± Sid called out as she got her feet and started unlatching her breastplate. He complied, slinging it with an underarm throw. She caught it deftly slid it into a pocket and strode up beside him, pulling off her armour. She balanced the silvery metal on the wall letting it lie beside her pack.

    Fritz stared at her then looked away hastily, as she rooted through her bag for a rag to use as a washcloth. Obviously, Sid didn¡¯t know how soaked her clothes were or how they looked as they stuck to her frame. Especially her faded, blue shirt that clung to her skin revealing a lot of interesting curves to his furtive glances. Oh gods Fritz, it¡¯s Sid, look away before she strangles you, he admonished himself.

    Fritz cut a strip off of the face towel from the shaving kit using his bone dagger, then he thrust the strip of soft white cloth in her direction saying, ¡°Here, you can use this.¡±

    She took it tiredly and Fritz kept his eyes firmly away from her.

    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯m going to clean up over there,¡± Sid said, exhaustion plain in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m taking my bow, and I¡¯ll put an arrow in your eyes if you follow for a peek,¡± She warned. Not that she needed to.

    Fritz nodded his head emphatically stating, ¡°I¡¯m a gentleman, I would never. But I¡¯ll make sure Bert stays here as well, who knows what that ruffian would do.¡±

    She gave him a wearied smile and turned and left ducking behind a pool¡¯s wall and out of sight. Fritz watched her go, then when she was gone he focused on cleaning himself up.

    He stripped away his clothes, lathered up with soap and used another strip of the washcloth to roughly scrub away all the collected grime, sweat and filth. After he was done rinsing off the suds he looked at his face in the mirror and upon seeing his stubble he decided it had to go. He took up the ivory-handled razor and used it judiciously, noting the blade was far easier to control than the last time he had shaved. The edge flowed smoothly over his skin and he barely cut himself at all. Magic razor? He questioned. No idiot, you have Agility now, he realised.

    When he was done shaving he made an attempt at cleaning his clothes, he wasn¡¯t able to get all the stains out but they looked far more presentable than before. He rung out his still-wet clothes, rendering them merely damp rather than drenched. He didn¡¯t think they¡¯d be able to find a place to dry them any further on this floor so he ceased his efforts and wandered over to where Bert was floating calmly with his arms splayed.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Fritz looked over the wreck of Bert¡¯s arm expecting to see exposed bone. However it seemed that his Vitality was helping him recover at an incredible rate, his arm still looked more like a thick rope of raw meat than a functional appendage. But it looks better than before, Fritz reflected, it¡¯s healing.

    ¡°Bert, mend your clothes will you, your bits are almost slipping out. Don¡¯t want to scare Sid, or me for that matter would you?¡± Fritz chided.

    Bert opened a mischievous eye and answered, ¡°Oh, but it¡¯s okay if you do it? Spooking the poor lass? Like on the first floor?¡±

    Fritz recoiled at the memory now that he knew Sid better.

    ¡°Oh no, I did. Didn¡¯t I?¡± He said aghast.

    ¡°You did,¡± Bert grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure she doesn¡¯t hold grudges.¡± He grinned even wider as Fritz groaned in embarrassment.

    Fritz didn¡¯t know exactly why he felt such a strange shame and anxiety but decided to bury it anyway, to be examined later.

    Bert¡¯s vest and pants glowed and re-knitted themselves over a half a minute, Fritz watched in interest and the threads extended and wove together neatly over Bert¡¯s gradually lightening skin. Once the magical marvel had finished Fritz said, ¡°While you heal, I¡¯m going to find the least salty pool and refill our water skins.¡±

    Bert closed his one open eye and waved him away with a grunt of affirmation. Fritz smiled, and walked away on his mission, making sure to stay on his side of the room so as not to disturb, or be accused of anything nefarious by Sid.

    It didn¡¯t take him long, maybe ten minutes to test all the pools that didn¡¯t have soap or snail slime in them and found one that was almost as good as fresh rainwater, even if it was disgustingly warm. In another ten minutes he had filled all their water skins and drank his own fill straight from the pond. He meandered around for a while, waiting for Bert to recover and suppressing his keen desire to run up the green stairs to receive his next Ability.

    What do I want for my next Ability? He pondered. Something offensive or defensive? Another Sense? Maybe a ranged spell or maybe even Gloom Strike will be offered again, he had heard of that happening especially in strongly aligned spires like the Greater Spire of Water deep under the Antaru Ocean.

    Unfortunately, it seemed this Spire was particularly chaotic when it came to Ability consistency. It seemed to Fritz that only Earth and Shadow aligned Abilities seemed to show up with any regularity. He knew that was to be expected for Minor Spires, they were usually less powerfully aligned than the Greater or Major Spires and that they could usually only be counted on for granting their aligned Traits or Abilities at the Precipice.

    So it was for the Mer Spire, it was aligned to water and seemingly merfolk, as it was said that it would often grant the much coveted Merfolk-Strain choice to those who reached the Precipice. Fritz wondered what kind of Trait he would get at the top of this Sunken Spire.

    He shook his head and decided to embrace the randomness, building what synergies he could without worrying too much about it. It¡¯s not like they had much choice in the matter anyway. At least my Abilities would be difficult to deduce when I fight other Climbers, he mused. Still, I¡¯d like an offensive ability soon, I¡¯m too loaded up on utility at the moment.

    Feeling well watered and eager to find out his next Ability choices, he wandered listlessly back to Bert after about an hour and a half of musings and daydreams. He was looking considerably better having abandoned his aimless floating and now seemed to be scrubbing away the Spire¡¯s grime with his bar of soap and strip of cloth.

    Bert turned as he got close and said, ¡°Fritz, just the man I want to see. Can you shave away this awful stubble? I would do it myself, but alas my arm.¡±

    Fritz accepted the duty graciously, applying his Agility to the razor with gusto. Sid joined them about halfway through Bert¡¯s shave and watched on with mild amusement as Bert told Fritz to ¡°hop to it¡± and mockingly bemoaned the lack of good help playing up all the mannerisms of the well-to-do. Fritz smiled along acting the part of an obsequious servant, with a lot of, ¡°Yes, Milords¡± and ¡°Right away sirs.¡± It wasn¡¯t much longer until Bert looked presentable and felt well enough to shoulder his admittedly heavy pack.

    It was fun putting on the little performance for a time, being someone else for just a moment in this terrible Spire. They all needed a little fun here and there or they¡¯d go mad, or already had, as Fritz suspected.

    They collected their packs and made for the now-stinking, tallest pool. The water was foaming and burbling in places as the snail''s blood and spray mixed. Sid and Fritz stayed as far away from the snail¡¯s leaking body as they could, but Bert just walked a line through the most polluted water without a care in the world.

    "Bert, do you see the hammer or chisel?" Fritz asked, unwilling to leave anything behind, even if it was likely riddled with rust.

    Bert searched, being the closest and least affected by the searing water.

    "Aha!" He cried, reaching down into pool and retrieving an unblemished spike of black metal. "Chisel is here and its perfect, like me!"

    Sid rolled her eyes and Fritz spotted a stream of fizzing froth by the snails corpse.

    "Over there," Fritz said, pointing.

    Bert rapidly obliged, sloshing his way to the object and grimacing as he pulled it out from under the water.

    "This is less perfect, like you," Bert said, holding the rod of rust that used to be a hammer. He stored it away anyway and seemed to see something in the burbling waters but hastily looked away and grinned.

    "Let''s get going," He said. And they could only agree, wading with wide strides towards the Stairway.

    Fritz was paying attention to the pool¡¯s surface making sure he took the path of least corrosion when he saw Bert fall into the bubbling water out of the corner of his eye. He came up quickly grasping at and messing with his pants pocket then gave the two of them an embarrassed grin.

    ¡°Whoops. Slipped,¡± Bert said furtively.

    ¡°Be careful! We don¡¯t want to waste all our gold on mending your clothes,¡± Sid chided.

    Fritz narrowed his eyes sceptically, wondering why Bert was acting so sketchy. It wasn¡¯t like him, to say the least, usually he¡¯d just play a fall off like he had meant to do it.

    ¡°Fritz! Get moving, water¡¯s getting worse around you,¡± Sid yelled.

    Abandoning his instinctual suspicions he looked around and saw she was right. Cursing he continued his circuitous path to the Stairway. The rest of the route wasn¡¯t eventful but it was unpleasant and he hoped that his pants and his precious undergarments would make it through the stinging water okay.

    They reached the porous pillar of quartz and strode through its entrance, their bare feet slapping against the green marble steps and pants dripping as they walked upwards and into the Well Room. The stairway opened up into a blessedly cool and wonderfully dry room of green marble. It wasn¡¯t a particularly large chamber and had a depression in its centre surrounded by a flat walkway around the circular wall. It was like they were standing on the lip of a shallow bowl.

    In the middle of the basin, was a six-foot-tall orb of grey stone riddled with veins of light-eating darkness. Sid was first to move, setting down her pack and slipping down the side like a slide. Fritz and Bert followed soon after. Sid set her hand to the stone sphere and drank her fill of its Power. Bert was next and then Fritz set his hand to the freezing cold orb.

    The searingly cool energy suffused his arm and was pulled down it, condensing in his centre, pooling and burning in his Sanctum, ready to be used. He smirked at Bert and received an excited grin in return. They both sat quickly and descended into their Sanctums.

    Fritz found himself in the gloom of the rainy yard, his willow standing tall with its branches whispering and waving in the drizzle-laden breeze. Impatient for his next Ability he strode around the water-filled holes and reached out to the tree and felt for his next choices. The revelations poured into his mind and spirit.

    ---------

    Activated Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow¡¯s grace, deliver foes, to night¡¯s embrace.

    Your strike becomes harder to track, deals extra damage and dulls the senses on impact.

    Alignment: Shadow.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three seconds, Affliction: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You killed a ¡®Blight Hound¡± with a single strike.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯

    Influenced by Shadow Aligned Ability (Illusory Shadow)

    ---

    Lethargy

    Feeling tired? Getting slow? Take a rest, let it go.

    You curse a living creature; draining its Stamina over time and reducing its Stamina Recovery.

    Alignment: Curse.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Five minutes.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have Cursed two creatures.

    Influenced by Trait Twilight Kissed.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯

    ---

    Lacerate

    Splattered scarlet and open veins, the rushing rivers of red remains.

    Your strike deals extra damage and causes increased bleeding.

    Alignment: Blade, Blood.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three Seconds, Affliction: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You killed a ¡®Salt Snail¡¯ via blood loss.

    You inflicted many bleeding cuts.

    Influenced by Technique ¡®The Observations¡¯

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz smiled wide and almost picked Gloom Strike on the spot but stopped himself as he comprehended the other two choices. A curse Ability and Lacerate, that fearsome attack that Toby had used. Those interesting offers made his choice that much harder. He resolved to reason out his choice with Sid and Bert, so he excitedly pulled himself free of his Sanctum to find Sid and Bert deep in contemplation.

    Much to Fritz¡¯s relief Bert¡¯s injuries seemed to be much restored by the Well. His arm especially looked better, with new, raw skin stretched over the previously exposed muscle. His skin was still a little pink but he assumed that would fade in time and considering Bert¡¯s Vitality it would back to its normal paleness sooner rather than later.

    ¡°Hard choices?¡± Fritz asked upon seeing their serious faces.

    Sid nodded but Bert shook his head saying ¡°No, I just know how mad my choice is going to make you.¡±

    He grinned wide, stood up, reached forward with his good arm with his palm out and yelled, ¡°Corrosive Spray!¡±

    A torrent of clear, misty liquid sprayed from his hand arcing over the bowl¡¯s lip and sizzling against the green stone.

    ¡°You idiot! You almost got me!¡± Fritz shouted, scrambling away from the mist.

    ¡°Disgusting,¡± Sid said with a grimace which only made Bert grin harder.

    ¡°Why in the Spires did you choose that horrid Ability?¡± Fritz angrily questioned.

    ¡°I said I would and then it was offered, can¡¯t go back on my word,¡± Bert explained smugly. ¡°Also the other two Abilities offered weren¡¯t a good fit. Yet.¡±

    ¡°What exactly were you offered that this seemed like the best of them?¡± Fritz asked tiredly.

    ¡°Rage. It was tempting what with how strong and tough it could have made me, but the downsides...¡± Bert trailed off, seemingly recollecting the tales of mighty Rager¡¯s and their indiscriminate violence and destruction.

    Fritz had already seen the effects of a Rage Ability, or something like it, watched a man impale themselves on his sword just to wring his neck, and was relieved Bert hadn¡¯t picked it. Rage was rumoured to be powerful, but a liability when coordination was needed, also it had a tendency the get the wielder killed. Fritz and Sid shared a grimace, obviously thinking along the same lines.

    Annoyed at the thought that Bert had possibly picked sensibly Fritz sceptically asked, ¡°What about the other choice?¡±

    ¡°Bull Rush,¡± Bert stated dismissively.

    ¡°Bull Rush sounds great,¡± Sid pointed out.

    ¡°I agree,¡± Fritz added nodding along.

    Bert sighed.

    ¡°I was just thinking. I won¡¯t be able to punch everything,¡± Bert said sagely rubbing at his newly smooth chin. ¡°What if we came upon a Fire Spirit or something?¡±

    ¡°You would still punch it, I don¡¯t buy this act,¡± Fritz replied incredulously.

    ¡°I¡¯m with Fritz on this, what¡¯s the real reason?¡± Sid asked.

    Bert scowled like he was going to argue but then let his shoulders sag and gave a shy grin saying, ¡°It seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime choice. With the way I fight I¡¯m going to get a charge or rush at some point. Corrosive Spray won''t be offered again unless we go out of our way to find it.¡±

    Fritz was speechless, A good, rational reason? From Bert?

    ¡°Huh, guess that makes sense,¡± Sid hedged.

    Not knowing what to say but still thinking Bert was hiding some other reason Fritz grunted and let the subject lie. What''s done is done and whatever Bert is planning will come to light eventually. No need to push right now, Fritz reflected.

    ¡°How about you Sid? Get anything good?¡± Bert asked turning to her.

    She gave them a smile and said, ¡°Yes, I have a choice of Wind Step, Gust and Venomous Strike. Seems I got Venomous strike from using the belt¡¯s magic and the others from my air aligned Abilities.¡±

    ¡°Seems likely, guess that using Treasures is another way to for you get offered certain abilities. Another advantage for the already wealthy,¡± Fritz groused. Shaking his head and dispelling his bitterness he continued, ¡°What do Wind Step and Gust do?¡±

    ¡°Wind Step speeds my movements and allows me to ¡®step¡¯ in the air once during its duration, lasts one second. Gust says it produces a powerful blast of wind in front of me, they both cost two mana,¡± Sid explained even as she was weighing the advantages of each in her mind.

    ¡°Hmm, quite the conundrum,¡± Bert said in an awful attempt at a scholars tones.

    ¡°Quite,¡± Fritz reluctantly agreed.

    ¡°I¡¯m leaning towards Wind Step, but Gust might be just as useful if we fight creatures with projectiles or swarming monsters,¡± Sid theorised.

    ¡°Maybe, I would take the Wind Step. Just seems better all around and being able to reposition oneself seems powerful, especially outside of battle,¡± Fritz reasoned.

    ¡°Mobility is mighty,¡± Bert espoused.

    ¡°Says the one who dodged a charge Ability,¡± Sid said drily.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get the next charge I¡¯m offered,¡± Bert grumbled.

    Sid shook her head disbelievingly but smiled anyway saying, ¡°Wind Step it is.¡±

    She retreated into her Sanctum and then was back in a couple of moments which Bert used to cast another Corrosive Spray laughing the whole while as if it was some great joke. In some absurd way it also amused Fritz, maybe it was just seeing Bert so happy with a Power or maybe it was just funny seeing him enjoy such an odd Ability choice he couldn¡¯t say.

    Sid came to and said. ¡°Could you cut that out, it smells like Jastili lime wine.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Bert. Stop stinking the place up with your sour acid,¡± Fritz admonished.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± Bert intoned solemnly.

    Sid rolled her eyes and turned to Fritz asking, ¡°What are your choices?¡±

    Fritz smirked.

 Chapter 36

    Bert and Sid sat with their backs resting on the grey stone orb, waiting for Fritz to speak.

    ¡°My, oh my, what choices I have. Well first there¡¯s Gloom Strike; the Ability that Steve used to stab Bert. It does some extra damage and obscures the attack made, making it hard to notice. I would know I¡¯ve been on the other end of it. It¡¯s truly terrifying¡± Fritz explained.

    Bert nodded excitedly and Sid shrugged then gestured for him to continue.

    ¡°Then there¡¯s Lethargy. A curse,¡± Fritz announced grandly.

    Bert grimaced, rubbing at the now scarred-over cursed cut on his side.

    ¡°A curse?¡± Sid said surprised. ¡°Why do you get all the rare stuff? What''s it do?¡±

    ¡°Drains stamina and reduces stamina recovery,¡± Fritz boasted fairly sure he was going to pick the curse.

    ¡°No damage? Or heal suppression?¡± Bert asked sourly.

    ¡°No, but as you should know curses are hard to remove and generally have a long duration so are some of the best weakening Abilities you can get,¡± Fritz said trying to soothe Bert¡¯s apparent grudge against the potent magic.

    ¡°No damage,¡± Bert grumbled again. ¡°What''s the last choice?¡±

    ¡°Oh, the last one. Just Lacerate. You know the ability Toby had? Not too keen on picking that one up. Did you see how many times he was splattered with blood? I don¡¯t want that, no thank you sir,¡± Fritz said, cheerily reminiscing about Toby¡¯s smug face being covered in monster muck.

    The image must have also appeared in Bert¡¯s mind because a grin broke through his grimace.

    ¡°That¡¯s a tough pick,¡± Sid said seriously, bringing them back to the present dilemma.

    ¡°Not really,¡± Bert and Fritz said together.

    They looked at each other suspiciously and Fritz asked, ¡°Which one do you think I should choose?¡±

    ¡°Lacerate! It''s got damage!¡± Bert stated as if it were obvious but there was an amused light in his eyes. He obviously would delight to see Fritz get covered in blood all the time, so he could mock him mercilessly.

    ¡°Lethargy. It''s. A. Curse,¡± Fritz replied, then peered past Bert to Sid for her opinion, but she was still in thought and ventured no comment one way or the other.

    ¡°You can¡¯t keep avoiding damaging options, Fritz,¡± Bert argued.

    ¡°I can leave all that for you two,¡± Fritz responded. ¡°Think about how good it¡¯ll be against large monsters. We can soften them up or even render them unconscious if their stamina is completely drained away.¡±

    ¡°And what about hordes of monsters, like goblins. Or statues like the bull?¡± Bert pointed out.

    ¡°Or undead,¡± added Sid, as she finally finished her contemplations.

    ¡°Well, that''s what my other abilities are for. And if they¡¯re statues or undead and don¡¯t have blood I don¡¯t think Lacerate will work on them either,¡± Fritz said confidently.

    Bert frowned at the good point, and Sid spoke up, ¡°I agree with Bert, you can''t keep taking non-damage Abilities. If you keep scouting solo you need to be able to put out the hurt on your own. You got lucky the last couple of times but how long can you rely on that luck?¡± She asked sweeping his small victory away with her logical arguments.

    ¡°I¡¯m not taking Lacerate,¡± Fritz grumbled.

    ¡°Then take Gloomy Strike,¡± Bert said happily, ¡°Suits you better really.¡±

    Sid nodded at the assessment and Fritz scowled a little but quickly hid it under a smile. At the end of the day it was still his decision to make but he did value both Sid¡¯s logical and Bert¡¯s illogical advice.

    Fritz sighed, curses were fearsome, curses were rare and powerful. But he had also been desperately wishing for another chance at selecting Gloom Strike and if it were against anything but a curse or maybe an arcane Ability, he would have selected it easily. Especially because he had seen how potent it was in his fight with Steve.

    He weighed each choice in his mind one last time. Lethargy lasted a long time, drained a creature causing it to become weaker over time, was difficult to cleanse, it fit into a hit-and-run, attrition-based spell set and was rare to boot. But as Bert had helpfully pointed out it dealt no damage on its own and though he hadn¡¯t mentioned it to the others it did cost two rather than one making it the most expensive of the Ability choices. Without a Magical Attribute he couldn¡¯t feasibly cast it over and over, making it far worse in fights with multiple foes.

    Lacerate seemed good on the surface and even better if he thought of combining the Ability with the bone dagger¡¯s curse or his fish blade''s wicked edge. But then again, blood all over him, blood all over the walls, blood everywhere. That and it aligned to blood and blade mana and he didn¡¯t exactly know which mana types worked well with those alignments. Metal and life were maybe close; but those were terribly hard to get in Rain City; he¡¯d have to travel to a different Spire entirely or plan his Path perfectly to get those Magic Attributes Activated.

    Gloom Strike seemed to be looking better and better. He already had a Path Ability and Trait that aligned to it, as well as a Technique that complimented it. It was a great feint enabler in battle and the sense deadening effect was not to be underestimated. Plus it might just be the perfect Strike to take for killing an enemy quietly, unless there was some sort of Assassin''s Strike. Which now that he thought on it, there probably was. It was also more straightforward than his other Abilities, just cast and stab, no positioning, no fiddly Control to worry about using. Or was there?

    No. None of that right now, pick your ability, worry about Control later, he admonished.

    He went through the choices one last time but had already decided. Fritz pulled himself down into his Sanctum riding the currents of cool Power to his centre and greeted the rustling willow and the drumming of rain with a smile.

    He lay his forehead against the willow¡¯s cool, grey trunk and chose.

    The cold energies burned and shifted, transforming from bright, searing lights into twisting, subtle shadows. The bark of the willow groaned as it stretched taller and grew a new black branch, the Power affirming his choice. The new shadowy branch whispered in the wind and caressed the air, clutching at the drops of rain with the tiny, writhing black tendrils it had in place of leaves. It was a little bit odd and a mite scary to Fritz¡¯s mind to have such a clearly malevolent Power but he put it out of his mind. It''s just a tool, a means to an end, he reassured himself.

    There were still some strands of cold Power floating around his Sanctum and he thought on what Attributes to align next. More Control to shape his spells? More Awareness to detect threats better, maybe some Agility to boost his fighting? Strength to help him hit harder or Endurance so he can use his Abilities?

    Fritz let the events of the last floor come to mind and reviewed his successes and failures, he had eventually spotted the monsters and wasn¡¯t caught by surprise too badly, his focus and memory hadn¡¯t seemed to have mattered much and he wasn¡¯t using Strength. Now that he had Gloom Strike some of the damage he would do would be magical; so strength wasn¡¯t a priority, though he did wonder how it would feel to have powerful and possibly larger muscles. He knew more Strength didn¡¯t necessarily bulk you up, but a man could dream.

    It seemed the choice was between his Agility at nine and Endurance at six. Searching through his thoughts he found that it was his endurance he was most worried about, especially with the new Ability he was likely to use a lot over the coming floors. Endurance it is then.

    He grasped the cool light around him and aligned the Power to Endurance feeling it seep into the roots of his willow, extending them deeper into the muddy ground.

    He decided to have another look at his Spire Sheet to check his progress and the silvery glyphs appeared revealing the extent of his Power.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 6

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 9

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 12

    Control: 6

    ---------

    Activated 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow¡¯s grace, deliver foes, to night¡¯s embrace.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Twilight Kissed

    Perhaps a boon, perhaps a curse, you¡¯ll find out soon, which is worse.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Satisfied in his choices Fritz pulled himself out of his Sanctum, as he returned to his body he felt the heaviness in his limbs retreat and his tiredness slough away leaving him feeling better than ever.

    Gotta love the rested feeling that Endurance gives you.

    He opened his eyes only to see both of his crew staring intently at him.

    ¡°Well?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Well, what?¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°What did you choose?¡± Sid said eagerly.

    ¡°Gloom Strike and Endurance, as you suggested,¡± Fritz answered defensively.

    ¡°Damn!¡± Bert yelled punching the ground lightly. ¡°I thought he was totally going to take the curse anyway and really screw us over.¡±

    ¡°Why would I?¡± Fritz said perplexed and almost outraged. Bert just looked at him with an equally perplexed face.

    ¡°That¡¯s just what you do?¡± He said as if were a question.

    ¡°Not all the time,¡± scoffed Fritz, but he sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.

    ¡°Anyway that¡¯s a full gold triad to me, Bert,¡± Sid gloated with a huge grin on her face. Her smile is nice, smiling suits her, Fritz thought to himself.

    ¡°You bet on my choice?¡± Fritz said in mock anger. ¡°How could you Bert? Do you really think I¡¯d do that to you? To us? To the Pack-pact?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you would,¡± Bert replied easily. Fritz was about to rebuff the ruffian when Sid spoke up interrupting his act of ill-temper, ¡°Alright, alright, enough. Good choice, Fritz, I know you wanted the curse but right now I think you needed the extra attack power. So thanks for sticking to the plan.¡± She smiled at him and Fritz thought maybe he should do more ¡®good¡¯ things even if it was just to see her smile again.

    He shook himself out of his distraction, turning his rapidly heating face away and searching for the Doors. To his surprise he found that there were four, not the usual three. However, the fourth door seemed to be heading downward.

    ¡°Four Doors,¡± Fritz commented gesturing at the stairway leading down.

    ¡°Yeah, exits every sixth floor,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°I thought Nic said it was every ten?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°He was wrong, or maybe just lying to get us to climb the full way,¡± Sid said certainly. ¡°Not that he needed to. I¡¯m climbing the whole thing either way. And in one go, they say there¡¯s a big reward for Golden Climbs and I mean to find out what it is.¡±

    ¡°They do say that. I wonder what it is?¡± Fritz mused.

    ¡°We won''t find out wasting our time here,¡± Bert said eagerly.

    ¡°True enough, but how are your injuries and mana looking?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°I just aligned another three points to Essence of Air, so I feel my air mana is about a third full,¡± Sid explained.

    ¡°I feel great, aligned another point to Agility, Endurance and Vitality¡± Bert boasted. ¡°Guess stamina recovers faster than mana. Or is that just my twenty-one Endurance?¡±

    ¡°Depends on how much you have aligned to the Magic Attribute,¡± Fritz corrected.

    ¡°Does it?¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Yeah, but I think stamina outpaces mana at lower levels,¡± Sid added.

    Fritz nodded in agreement.

    ¡°So go check out the Doors, Fritz,¡± Bert said.

    Fritz complied with the request, getting onto his now far more steady feet and then scrabbled and slipped up the smooth basin and over its green lip. Standing and doing his best to remain regal in his crew''s eyes he strode to the three Doors leading to the next floor. He let his gaze run over them then approached the Door on the left and started his investigation.

    The leftmost Door was of wrought iron, set with large bolts caked in rust. The stairs up were similarly dark iron and covered in a thin layer of red dust. Impressions filtered into Fritz¡¯s mind through his Door Sense, showing him images of clanking men in brutal and bolted dull iron armour. He got the feeling that they weren¡¯t entirely human or even alive and he stepped back and away from the cold hollowness that they echoed.

    Shivering slightly he moved to the next Door searching the odd portal for anything useful. It was a rippling plane of deep blue almost black light, it gave off the scent of...lightning, the smell that suffused the air around a recently struck lightning rod like those that littered the higher tenements and mansions of the Upper Ring. When he probed it with his Sense, he felt the roil of high, chaotic waves. Like he was stood alone on a small ship in a terrible storm.

    The immensity of the sea¡¯s wrath terrified Fritz for a moment as the images flashed through his mind but the fear was pushed aside quickly by his will. With his emotions under control and now feeling curious he felt at the portal again. Something about the ocean had always intrigued him. When he was younger he always imagined himself setting sail braving the Oceans, avoiding the Leviathans and doing battle with their vicious, rampaging spawn. He had wanted to travel to the Countless Isles and climb the innumerable Spires encountered on those mysterious spots of land that could be either civilised and populous or completely untamed and unexplored or anything in between.

    It was not to be, not anymore. Fritz sighed, pulling away from the storm portal and the crashing waves just beyond and turned to the last Door. A chill breeze emanated from the worked grey stone arch inlaid with simple, inert, lightless runes. The stairs that led upwards reminded Fritz of stacked stones and the passageway walls were of a hard, greyish dirt. Beyond the Door¡¯s entrance, he could hear the braying of beasts and sense the presence of animals, monsters, both hunters and prey stalking and striding across a great, cold forest.

    Stepping back and spinning to face his friends Fritz told them his findings, hinting subtly at wanting to take the sea portal. He was rebuffed immediately by both Sid and Bert.

    ¡°Why would we want to brave a sea storm? I¡¯ve hidden from enough gutter-flooding storms to know how bad they can get even when you''re on land. You should¡¯ve too,¡± Sid argued.

    ¡°Well, it''s just you know...the Sea,¡± Fritz said wistfully not really expecting them to get it.

    Bert shook his head, he had heard enough about Fritz¡¯s fantasies of climbing the Rain Spire, earning a fortune, using said fortune to buy a ship and explore the world whilst climbing any Spire that took their fancy. A life of Adventure and Treasure.

    ¡®It''s not really the Sea, it''s a Spire¡¯s floor, Fritz,¡± Bert reminded him dousing the flame of adventure and Fritz¡¯s mood.

    ¡°True enough,¡± Fritz replied with a long sigh. ¡°Which do we want to take then? Cold forest or metal men?¡±

    ¡°Food¡¯s almost out,¡± Sid said as Bert¡¯s stomach growled as if it was offering its own opinion.

    ¡°Well I don¡¯t think we can eat metal men, but there might be fish in the ocean,¡± Fritz said hopefully.

    ¡°We can¡¯t fish in a storm, you know we aren¡¯t prepared for an ocean floor why are you being so insistent?¡± Sid demanded.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry. It¡¯s just now that we¡¯re getting Power and are on our way to becoming Climbers. I keep thinking about the future and what it could hold and, for me, travelling to other Spires was part of what I wanted. I can''t help but think that maybe there¡¯s hope for us to seize some freedom for ourselves. I guess the sea Door is just appealing to my want of freedom in that way,¡± Fritz explained with his tone wavering sadly as reality and melancholy sunk their teeth back into him dragging him down to his still bleak prospects. He also still had siblings to take care of, best he could.

    Sid looked down and away, probably shocked by his honesty while Bert smiled on in acceptance of his ¡®quirks.¡¯

    ¡°No sea storm,¡± Sid said into her scarf.

    ¡°I agree, we don¡¯t have water breathing or anything to help us swim. And do you really want to get soaked again after the last floor?¡± Bert added, not unkindly but clearly bored of the argument.

    ¡°Let''s hunt some monsters in the cold forest then. Sid can even play at being a ranger,¡± Fritz suggested.

    Sid began to smile but then wiped the expression off her face quickly and nodded.

    ¡°Got the bow and quiver, just need a hooded cloak,¡± she said.

    Fritz smiled wide at the thought and said, ¡°The breastplate totally clashes with the whole ranger aesthetic though. It should be leather or shadow lynx fur.¡±

    ¡°No way, you hide the glittering breastplate under the cloak then when it''s cut to ribbons by bandits or monsters you reveal the armour underneath with a dramatic swoosh,¡± Sid said emphatically. Fritz supposed she had thought this through already and conceded the point to her with a smile and a nod.

    Her cheeks coloured as she realised she had gotten carried away in a flight of fancy and she adjusted her scarf to obscure more of her features.

    ¡°When do we go? Rest up a bit first?¡± Bert asked clapping his hands and rubbing them together in excitement.

    ¡°Eat up then go through. You never know how long it¡¯s going to take to track something down,¡± Sid advised.

    They did so taking about fifteen minutes to prepare themselves for the next floor, eating their fill of metallic fish and drinking some of the slightly salty water they had gathered from the previous floor. During this small break they chatted a little about the snail fight while they refilled their Treasure¡¯s mana Capacities.

    ¡°Nice job with the Stone Pit spell to weaken the shell,¡± Sid complimented.

    ¡°Oh, you noticed that?¡± Fritz said beaming.

    ¡°Yeah, you were mumbling ¡®Stone Pit¡¯ over and over while the shell shifted and cracked,¡± Sid commented.

    Fritz''s face fell. Oh no! I was saying the name of my ability while casting it. Wait don¡¯t let them see you quake with embarrassment, he thought while reapplying a false smile.

    ¡°Wish you¡¯d thought of it earlier,¡± Bert groused. ¡°Could¡¯ve saved me some skin.¡±

    Fritz kept on his smile and replied, ¡°And I wish you weren¡¯t a madman who would dive into a monster¡¯s caustic flesh on the off chance it would save you from a tentacle¡¯s slash.¡±

    ¡°Guess were both left wishing,¡± Bert easily grinned. ¡°Oh and nice Striking Sid, no complaints.¡±

    Sid smiled.

    They sat a while in companionable silence until their Treasures were filled and the golden heart had been shaved down again, the pale spots flaking and disappearing into dust. There was about half of the original mass left in Fritz¡¯s estimation, they were going through it at an alarming rate. No wonder there was always a demand for gold or other materials that could act as mana-reservoirs.

    They packed away the less substantial heart and shouldered their packs, letting Fritz lead them into new perils as he strode forward and to the right, plunging into the chilly breeze of the third Door.

 Chapter 37

    Fritz¡¯s now-dry boots stomped up the cold rock of the stairs, he listened for any danger as he climbed and heard nothing save the shrill whispering of the breeze as it wove between trees and his own quiet footsteps. His head and body breached the top of the Staircase and he strode up into a small, quiet clearing. Around him, he saw tall, thin trees with patchy white bark and deep-green needle-like leaves waving in bright rays of sunlight.

    Patches of vibrant blue pieced the dark green blanket of the canopy, it must have been the sky but it was cloudless and clear, not a drop of rain to be seen. The air felt cool and fresh to his long-tortured sense of smell. He smiled and inhaled the unusual but pleasant clean scent the narrow leaves exuded and exhaled a contented sigh.

    This floor is already looking better than the last, no sweat, no salt, just trees and breeze. Oh, I should write that one down, he mused to himself.

    His musing didn''t last long as he walked up onto the hard dirt and sparse grass, then heard a heavy breathing from behind. It sounded like some large beast waiting in ambush somewhere out of sight so Fritz pretended not to notice. Don¡¯t give the game away, lull whatever it is into a false sense of security then turn its ambush around. Easy stuff, he lied, attempting to calm his restless legs and jumpy nerves.

    I thought, I¡¯d be used to this by now, but it''s always the same isn¡¯t it? Always something new and horrible hunting or haunting me, he bemoaned inwardly, cursing his own lack of courage.

    Fritz signalled to the now-surfacing Bert that there was a monster nearby and he nodded, glancing around ¡®subtly.¡¯ The beast seemed to catch on to his poor acting, or perhaps this new target was too tempting to pass up and it pounced at the soft unarmoured back of Bert.

    They both spun to meet the creature and what they saw almost stayed their strikes as the huge cat pounced. Fritz liked, or even loved cats, and this particular specimen was of a wonderful colour, pure white save darker almost silver grey socks and spots. Had they been outside the Spire Fritz suspected he could have sold it to a noble or wealthy merchant for a good price. Well, that was if it wasn¡¯t as long as he was tall, and didn¡¯t reach up to their waists in height.

    Unfortunately, though it wasn¡¯t merely a pretty cat, as it proved when its large claws came down in a blur onto Bert¡¯s intercepting arm and guarded chest. His skin split easily as the razor sharp claws glided over him. Bert¡¯s blood splattered the creature''s snowy fur as he was bowled over onto his back. He landed hard and the cat made to bite down on his exposed neck with ivory fangs the length of an outstretched hand.

    Bert still had his senses and was lucky, or skilled, enough to get his forearm in the way in time to catch the deadly bite, the snowy cat tensed its jaws and bit down. A savage crack could be heard from the breaking of Bert¡¯s bones; a noise they were getting far too used to Fritz thought.

    Fritz leapt into action, activating his newest Ability, Gloom Strike. Shadowy energies raced up his arm from his centre and wrapped his fish blade in roiling, whispering darkness. He ran to Bert¡¯s side and swung his blackened sword down on the creature''s neck. The cat barely gave his long blade a glance until its edge was within inches of its hide, it stared up with great emerald eyes in what could have been shock as his strike hit, cutting through its hide easily and grinding against the bone of its flexible spine.

    He pulled on his fish blade sawing deeper into the springy cord past the bone and watched as the creature''s legs failed it and it fell to the ground with a gurgling hiss. Fritz looked away. He couldn¡¯t bear the sight of it as it lay dying. He put his palm over his eyes, running his hand over his face and sighed bitterly as Sid made her appearance, stalking up from the stairway.

    Bert rolled the cat¡¯s dead weight off of himself and stood gingerly as his cuts scabbed over and his bones snapped back into place with jarring pops.

    Sid glanced at Bert and the now dead beast and quickly assessing the situation. Seemingly coming to the conclusion that the danger had passed and that Bert would be fine, she turned to look at Fritz. Sid searched his pained face for a time then asked, ¡°You okay? Were you hurt?¡±

    ¡°Only in my heart,¡± Fritz mumbled melodramatically, though he really did feel terrible for slaying the beast, even if it was trying to kill them.

    ¡°What?¡± Sid said as she turned an ear to him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind Fritz. He likes cats,¡± Bert explained. ¡°Even if they''re trying to murder him.¡±

    ¡°It was probably just hungry,¡± Fritz said making excuses for the cat.

    ¡°Yeah. Hungry for human,¡± Bert said.

    Sid looked at Fritz with a strange expression he couldn¡¯t read, then she shrugged, looked away and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck to guard against the chill breeze.

    ¡°We okay with cat meat?¡± Sid asked seriously, pragmatism lining her tone. ¡°I¡¯m not a huge fan but it¡¯s better than starving.¡±

    ¡°Yep. I can eat anything that eats me. That¡¯s my motto,¡± Bert espoused cheerily with a wink.

    ¡°Good motto,¡± Sid smirked.

    Fritz smiled sadly at the comment but looked away as Sid began to string the kill up, to be dressed and carved. He wondered where she¡¯d learnt all her butchery and hunting knowledge but stilled his tongue guessing it was probably through observation or books. He offered her his bone dagger when her own iron dagger found difficulty piercing the snow cat''s hide and the fin sword proved too unwieldy for the task. She took his blade gratefully.

    He turned away and said, ¡°I¡¯ll gather some wood and maybe find somewhere to cook it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get caught again,¡± Bert called out as Fritz lay down his pack and snuck into the trees moving away from the gruesome scene.

    While travelling, weaving through the thin trees and dense brush he saw what he thought was a small rabbit dart into a burrow. He sighed. More fluffy-cuddlies to eat I guess, where¡¯s a monster fish, or a Geraldo for that matter, when you need to hunt something, Fritz complained inwardly accidentally slipping in the phrase ¡®fluffy-cuddlies¡¯ that was one of his sister''s fondest sayings.

    A black mood threatened to take him at the thought of his little sister but he was able to push it away as he searched for a tree that looked strong enough to take his weight. Even after scouting for such a tree for ten minutes, he found none, the forest seemed to be comprised of only that particular kind of thin patchy-barked tree. Instead, upon discovering an incline he followed it up, hoping it led to the top of a hill that commanded a good view of the forest.

    Fritz skulked upwards, carefully avoiding and stepping around any dry twigs or fallen branches that could give away his presence to whatever else was lurking out there in the wild. During his search, he came across a natural cave beside a trickling stream and decided he¡¯d explore it when he came back down the hill. No matter how alluring the adventure or the prospect of waiting treasures that might be within; getting their bearings was the more pressing matter after all.

    While he walked past the cave and up the gently sloping hill he let his Awareness and various Senses extend, feeling those vague impressions and subtle tingling warnings they often sounded in his mind. There was no sense of where the door was, perhaps it was too far away or hidden somehow? Maybe in a couple of Ability Evolutions I¡¯ll be able to pinpoint a Door as soon as I enter a floor. Fritz sighed, a man can dream I guess.

    He daydreamed about his eventual Ability Evolutions, but he knew that he¡¯d have to fill all his empty Activated and Passive Ability Channels first to start customising and refining his magics. He thirsted for the new Power already, like a man long lost in a desert. It was a strange feeling, a week ago he would have settled for being a leveller and having only one magical Ability. Now he was a Pather, far more powerful than anyone he knew personally in his old life, save his parents and tutors, and now he craved Power more than ever. When the thought of his father popped up he absently wondered what level he was and was surprised when a memory from his childhood came rushing back as clear as day.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Father, what level are you?¡± Fritz had asked as he lay on his stomach reading a collection of Faerie tales on cool, wooden floorboards of the still intact and pristine, blue-and-white pavilion in his mother''s garden.

    His father had turned with a slight scowl etched on his handsome features and he traced his fingers over his dark moustache in an achingly familiar gesture. His hair was slicked back and perfect, with not even a hair out of place, as it ever was. His father had possessed an astonishing eye for detail and was a perfectionist when it came to appearances, or perhaps that was just a side effect of his high Perception. The little things always seemed to bother him more than it would others, even his fastidious, noble mother seemed almost slovenly in comparison to his exacting standards of self styling.

    ¡°Francis, you know the Spires I¡¯ve climbed, and how tall they were. Why not work it out?¡± He had answered in a deep, refined tone. His father¡¯s accent wasn¡¯t quite the same as his mother''s but that was to be expected as Fritz knew his father wasn¡¯t from Rain City and was originally from Portus Hai; a city to the south where the Wave Spire stood in the rolling tides past its sandy shores.

    Fritz had smiled at the small challenge, even at the age of six he was always willing to show off how diligent of a student he was, ready to make his father proud with all his Spire knowledge.

    ¡°Wave, Rain, Mer and Shore,¡± Fritz recounted counting the Spires he knew for certain his father had climbed.

    ¡°Minor Spires floor¡¯s reach to up to ten,

    Lesser¡¯s are taller have thirty and then,

    Major¡¯s have sixty you climb to get to the top,

    Greater¡¯s with ninety but that¡¯s not where they stop,

    A hundred and twenty are tallest and Grand,

    Save the Last Spire which forever will stand.¡±

    Fritz had recited excitedly, proud of the eloquence with which he had recited the children¡¯s rhyme, without stuttering even once.

    Fritz¡¯s father had smiled warmly then and had gestured for him to continue thinking through the puzzle.

    ¡°Wave and Rain are Lesser Spire¡¯s and Mer and Shore are Minor?¡± Fritz had supposed, to which his father had nodded reassuringly.

    ¡°Thirty plus thirty is sixty, sixty plus ten is¡­ seventy? Seventy plus ten is eighty? Father, you¡¯re level eighty? That¡¯s so high! You could be a King!¡± A young Fritz had proclaimed in awe of his father. As most children would; be their father a great lord or a common baker.

    His father had chuckled sensibly at the comment and replied, ¡°Not quite, my boy, I don¡¯t know how high level the King is but you can assume he¡¯s at least twice my level. As I¡¯m considered but a Journeyman Climber and he an Expert. I even heard he climbed the Greater Spire of Water before he came here and took the throne.¡±

    The young Fritz eye¡¯s had widened in shock. He remembered not comprehending the vastness of the world and how he was rocked to his core by the tiniest glimpse of the scale of Powers hinted at by his father¡¯s words.

    The forest blurred around the edges and Fritz realised his eyes were watering, both from a new freezing wind blowing in from his left and the pain the refined recollection had brought with it.

    Damn, the Memory Attribute sure is a double-edged sword. Especially for me, Fritz lamented.

    Wiping away his tears and re-focusing on the forest around him, he kept walking on. During his trek, he spotted another couple of rabbits dart away and another be picked off by another great cat, which ignored him as it stalked away with its small brown prize. Fritz let it go, not willing to get into another fight and also not really wanting to harm another cat, no matter how large, vicious and hungry.

    Shivering slightly he eventually reached the top of the hill and was greeted with a decent, but not a great, view of the surrounding lands. He saw nothing that could reasonably be considered a stairway, not a slab of green marble to be seen. Not much of anything to be seen save the deep green of the canopy that was like a quiet, rustling sea, shifting in the steadily growing breeze.

    Fritz turned to his left, what he thought may have been north, depending on if the sun here was similar to their own. The wind was picking up from that direction and it was colder than the light chill of before. Searching the sky he could see dark clouds approaching, slowly covering the pale blue in a blanket of ominous grey.

    A storm, and coming within the next couple of hours, if I can judge the weather of a Spire floor, he assessed rapidly. Anxiety coiled in his chest and he immediately started to stride back to his crew. After a few minutes he felt a strange sense of urgency and, trusting the instinct, broke into a run, leaning into his Trap Sense, Perception, Awareness and Agility to guide him through the forest without tripping on a stray branch or stone and losing his footing.

    He was rushing by a tree when Fritz heard a growling then a ferocious yowl as another cat pounced at him from a bush. He ducked under its claws and not looking back sped away in a sprint, abandoning any attempt at stealth or caution. Belatedly he remembered his barrier ring and activated it, just in time too as the cat pouched at his back and bounced off the skin-tight field, breaking it, producing a low hum as the protective magic dispersed.

    Fritz was pushed forward by the force, he staggered and almost fell on the hard dirt but he kept his feet and kept running, trees blurring as he passed them. Knowing a cat was unlikely to be unbalanced by a sudden Stone Pit but might be spooked by a different magic. Fritz pulled on his shadowy energies and cast his Illusory Shadow behind him, pulling it into the shape of a wide disk between him and his feline pursuer.

    The great cat hissed but didn¡¯t follow through the dark wall between them, Fritz thanked his luck and fled. He was lost for a couple of moments, but was able to spot the cave entrance he had seen before and knew he was on the right path. He rushed past the dark opening and towards his companions. He didn¡¯t hear the cat padding after him so he slowed down somewhat, trying to catch his breath. For minutes he ran and no more attacks came, he supposed he had lost or scared the creature when he used his Ability. He sped up, sprinting again when he spotted the clearing they had entered the floor on.

    Fritz burst through the trees startling Bert and Sid, they drew their weapons and raised their fists rapidly, ready to react to any threat. Spotting Fritz they looked around and behind him for whatever monster he had brought them this time. He would have scowled and chided them for their lack of faith in his scouting but he was bent over and panting too heavily to talk.

    After he had enough time to slow his breathing and speak, he told them through heaving breaths, ¡°Storm¡¯s coming...Maybe an hour or two¡­ maybe less.¡±

    Their faces paled and their fists clenched as they processed the warning, ¡°We need shelter. Now,¡± Sid said seriously, searching the clearing worriedly for anything that might provide any respite from a storm.

    ¡°Saw... a... cave,¡± Fritz breathed out, straightening his back and glancing around.

    Saying nothing Sid cut down the still strung-up cat, not bothering to recover the rope cords she used and bundled up the skinless, organ-free carcass in her sheet of oilcoth.

    ¡°Bert, carry the cat,¡± She demanded. He complied without complaint lifting the creature''s bulk into his arms but failing under both it and the weight of his heavy, gold-laden pack and falling into a kneel with a grunt. Sid frowned in frustration and added, ¡°I¡¯ll carry it then.¡±

    Bert let the cat''s body fall and moved out of the way for Sid to pick it up. He also appeared angry, not at Sid but at his own lack of strength Fritz suspected. Which was absurd, he had the highest Strength of them all and if he weren¡¯t carrying the heart it would have been easy for him. Fritz was about to say as much but was interrupted by Sid as she hefted the wrapped carcass over her shoulders.

    ¡°Fritz, get my pack and bow,¡± She said as she struggled with the balance of her butchered burden.

    He moved to do as she asked, he slung his own pack over his back and Sid¡¯s over his front, reaching awkwardly he took the bow from where it had been leaning against a tree. All told all the extra gear was unwieldy but hardly heavy or tough to move, even with his unenhanced Strength. Fritz waddled forward and then started to stride once he had his balance right. He headed out of the clearing, leading his crew towards the cave. The light dimmed as clouds shrouded the sun and swept over the sky.

    Bert was on alert, as the only one that could reasonably fight without having to drop their equipment he would have to be the first to act if they were attacked. Fritz felt something like drizzle, a speck of cold struck his face and the first flecks of snow began to cascade out of the darkening clouds. It¡¯s coming too quickly. This is bad.

    ¡°Bert be on the lookout for fallen branches. We¡¯ll need to light a fire,¡± Fritz called out.

    Bert nodded and started collecting fallen twigs and sticks when he came across them, quickly amassing an armful of dry wood for kindling. Which he had to drop when another great cat jumped down from a tree. It landed on Fritz¡¯s chest and knocked him over onto his back, driving the wind from his already aching lungs. He groaned as the air left him and he made to swing at the beast with his fish blade. Claws sank into his scale-armoured shoulder and the pack he was wearing in front of his chest, saving him from being disembowelled or worse.

    Bert was there in a moment. With a rippling kick, he punted the cat off of Fritz¡¯s chest before its long fangs could plunge into his neck. It flew at least three feet from the force of the blow and growled the whole time as it tumbled into a tree. As it staggered up Bert held out his palm and a jet of clear, viscous liquid sprayed forth covering most of the cat''s left side.

    It yowled in terrible pain, hissing and spitting as it turned then scrambled away. It leapt up the tree as patches of fur fell from its white coat revealing skin that was red and already blistering from Bert¡¯s acid. If killing the cat with Gloom Strike made Fritz feel bad this was immeasurably worse, he pitied the poor, mewling thing but there was nothing he could do for it if Bert¡¯s Corrosive Spray was as potent as the snail¡¯s on the last floor.

    He turned away from its torment and attempted to ignore its cries.

    Bert offered him a hand up and he took it, letting himself be pulled up to his feet then bending to pick up Sid¡¯s bow where it had fallen from his grasp.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get moving,¡± Fritz panted, as he checked his shoulder. There were only a couple of small punctures and very little blood. He thanked the Spires that he had kept wearing the scale shirt, even if it had a small tendency to rattle if he moved wrong.

    Sid grunted in affirmation and Bert nodded.

    Fritz led the way again, this time also keeping his eyes up so as not to miss any more ambushes, more for the cat¡¯s safety than his own. They made good enough time, eventually reaching the cave¡¯s shadowy entrance before the snow began to fall in earnest. They were glad to scurry inside as the wind was picking up, catching their clothes with invisible fingers and causing them to flap rapidly.

    They set their burdens down and peered into the deeper darkness further down the stone tunnel.

    ¡°Lucky you found this empty cave,¡± Sid said puffing out a tired breath and taking back her bow from Fritz.

    A low but enormous, growl echoed out of the tunnel, shaking both them and the rock. Fritz could feel the rumbling deep in his chest and he gulped.

    ¡°I never said it was empty.¡±

 Chapter 38

    Sid stared at Fritz angrily in accusation. Bert laughed, raising his hands and clenching them into fists as he turned to face the low growl echoing through the stone tunnel. Over the noise of the growling Fritz could hear the scrapes of claws against rock. Kneeling Fritz rooted through his pack, seizing upon his amber glowstone and pulling it and its swirling yellow light out into the open, banishing the black of the cave around them.

    The deep, low sound intensified as its source was illuminated by the amber stone''s light. Standing before them on four powerful shaggy legs was something that could only be described as a bear. Thought it was unlike many of the other bears Fritz had seen illustrations of in the multitude of monster manuals and animal almanacs he had read. It did however match the description of the Bone-mould Bear, with its head, front paws and shoulders protected by bony plates.

    Protruding from between the seams of bone and beyond the armoured, yellowed-white crest of its upper back was a carpet of shaggy black fur. Its face was like a bear''s skull and in its deep eye sockets he could see a glistening red glare. The growl stopped suddenly and the monster opened its terrible jaws wide and let loose a deafening roar of rage. It charged the intruders, its claws scratching against the rock as it thudded forward. It would be on them in moments.

    One of Sid¡¯s wind-imbued arrows streaked over Fritz¡¯s shoulder before he had time to react. It glanced off of the bone-mould bear¡¯s armoured hide, leaving only a small scratch on the bony plate and shattering on the stone wall beside it. Bert rushed at the creature to meet its advance with his fists and a sudden Corrosive Spray. The bear flinched slightly from the sudden gout of misting spray Bert shot from his outstretched palm. It splashed and sizzled over its yellowed-white face, shoulders and crest. Bert also flinched as he ran yelling curses through his acid¡¯s searing wake.

    The idiot isn¡¯t immune to his own Ability, Fritz concluded quickly as Bert¡¯s pale skin brightened into red.

    Still, the fool persisted, meeting the bear''s charge and roar with one of his own, dodging its snapping jaws by a hair and swinging up in a mighty uppercut. His fist rippled with force and rocked the beast''s skull-like head upwards, clacking its fangs together as they were slammed closed and cutting off its thunderous roar.

    Bert had no time to gloat however as a huge paw swatted him to the side, its claws tearing three long rents in his tough skin and throwing him into the wall with a crunch. Fritz winced at the sight but began to sprint, knowing he had to get to the bear¡¯s back where it was less armoured and his fish blade would only have to contend with its thick hide rather than it¡¯s seemingly-impervious plate.

    He ducked past its front leg and slipped around the side of the musty bear. He didn¡¯t trust himself enough to not get hit by an errant swipe of a paw or some hidden ability so he activated his barrier ring as he rushed besides the bear¡¯s formidable length. He suffused his fish blade with cold, shadowy magic, activating Gloom Strike as he slashed across the monster¡¯s furred flank. His weapon scored the thick hide but didn¡¯t draw more than a few drops of blood and left behind only a thin line of red instead of splitting it open as he¡¯d hoped.

    Monsters are getting tougher, but that¡¯s to be expected the higher you climb, Fritz observed as he reached the creature''s back end and turned to see something jaw-dropping. Sid leapt into the air, and at the apex of her jump stepped onto a burst of wind, pushing her even higher and above the bear''s head. The monster swung a claw at her, but she again stepped on a gust of air, kicking herself to the side, blurring and speeding up as she did so. She dodged the paw¡¯s strike by inches and landed sinuously on the bear''s furred back.

    Sid stumbled for a moment from the unstable footing and was about to fall when the belt of the moon serpent shed a soft light. She gracefully adjusted her stance and feet, keeping her balance and twisting as she stretched her bowstring taut and conjured an arrow into place. She loosed the newly-summoned, glass-like arrow into the bear¡¯s left shoulder joint, right into a seam between its bone plating.

    The monster opened its fanged mouth and roared in pain, it shook and shrugged its mighty shoulders, snapping the stuck arrow into glittering splinters. Sid lost her footing and fell forward onto the bear¡¯s back, her breastplate sounding with a dull clang. She cast away her bow and held onto the shifting plates as the monster tried and failed to throw her off.

    I have to distract it, Fritz thought just as Bert seemed to have the same idea, and saw him picking himself up from the cave floor and staggering in to rain empowered blows on the beast''s skull. The bone plating where Bert had sprayed his acid seemed surprisingly brittle as it broke under his fists and fell away in flaky chunks, revealing the bear¡¯s pale skin beneath.

    Fritz joined in the efforts to distract the beast from Sid, pinpointing a spot in the bear''s back leg that probably housed an important tendon. He wreathed his fish blade in cold, dark energies and thrust its shadowed point through the back of the bear¡¯s knee. It took some doing but by pushing with all his might he felt the tip pierce through the tough hide and into the meat of the leg. The leg kicked out after a small delay, seemingly only once it could feel the pain through its shadow-deadened nerves did it react. The blow caught Fritz on right in the chest, popping his barrier and bowling him over.

    Fritz fell hard, hitting the back of his head on a loose stone. He lay there groaning, spinning for a moment, and then a minute more. Another roar startled him out of his stupor and he sat up searching for the source of the terrible noise. It wasn¡¯t hard to miss, the hairy backside of the bear stumbled forward, its back leg slipping due to the still protruding fish blade stuck in its knee joint.

    Fritz scrambled to his feet, patting his belt and looking around for his bone dagger, he found it wasn¡¯t there. I must have dropped it when I got hit, his swimming mind assumed. Abandoning his bone dagger for now he ran to grab a hold of his fish blade while trying to piece together what had happened during the time he spent dazed on the ground.

    He couldn¡¯t quite see the front of the bear of Bert but he could still hear the sounds of heavy punches thudding against dense flesh and cracking against bone. Sid still clung to the beast¡¯s back holding onto her fin sword that she must have stabbed into its furred back. The short blade of the fin seemed to drip with green-black venom and the bear shuddered and shook trying to wrench the determined woman off of its body.

    Grabbing the rough cloth hilt of his sword Fritz pushed the fish blade forward and activated Gloom Strike again, pouring the roiling darkness over his weapon, hoping to dull the sensation of his attacks as much as possible. When the shadows dissipated sinking into the bear¡¯s flesh he cast his spell again, and pulled back on the sword, shaping the dark, whispering power along the edges to cover and numb the agonising grinding of bone and the painful snapping of ligaments and tendons his sawing motions caused.

    Once more the darkness enveloped the blade, once more he pushed. The bear''s huge leg buckled and bent sideways at the knee. The beast toppled and Fritz heard a man''s loud cry. He peered around the fallen beast and he saw Bert take advantage of the bear¡¯s stumble and slam his pulsing fist down like a hammer. It crashed into the bear¡¯s bare head with a crack, bashing in its skull and smashing into the rocky ground with a dull thud. Not trusting his fist to have finished the job Bert swung in with a kick rippling with force and shattered the top of its skull, caving it in with his descending heel.

    The bear slumped to the stone hard enough that a tremor went through the cave. Blood bubbled, leaking slowly from its crushed head. Sid finally let go of the beast, sliding off and landing into a sitting position with her back lying against its shaggy side. She was panting and looking around wide-eyed, Bert fell onto his back and lay there heaving. He¡¯s laughing, the insane idiot is laughing, Fritz realised not even astonished at the man¡¯s madness after the snail diving.

    There was also another higher-pitched rumble then Fritz found he was laughing too, both of them were mad then, he concluded.

    ¡°Why, in the Last Spire¡¯s name, are you both cackling? Is something funny?¡± Sid grumbled darkly through their low, uncontrollable laughter.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say it was empty! Too funny, Fritz,¡± Bert said gasping for air.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know there¡¯d be bone-mould bears here,¡± Fritz said panting as his laughter died out and the seriousness of their danger was re-impressed on him. ¡°This place has got the most variety of all the other floors. They only had one or two at most.¡±

    ¡°We never did get to see those big rats on the snail floor did we,¡± Bert mused as he also sobered up from his outburst.

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    ¡°No, and I¡¯ve seen and eaten enough rats not to care about that,¡± Sid interjected.

    ¡°Speaking of eating, do we know if bear is edible?¡± Bert asked.

    Fritz turned to the knowledgeable Sid, who answered, ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Well, we have food enough to last a storm it seems, just need wood,¡± Fritz pointed out. ¡°Bert, take Quicksilver and saw down a few trees would you?¡±

    ¡°Quicksilver? Oh your fish blade,¡± Bert chuckled. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s got a good edge for those sort of things. Just ask the bear. And we¡¯ll need a fire so as not to freeze to death. Or have you got a better idea?¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°I thought we could all just huddle together, share the warmth you know?¡± Bert suggested lazily as he activated his self mending clothes, rapidly repairing the rents the bear had clawed into them.

    ¡°I think not, your tossing and turning would keep everyone awake, plus I¡¯m not too sure how keen Sid is on bundling up with us. Even if the alternative is freezing,¡± Fritz said broaching the subject as delicately as he knew how.

    Sid just stared at the two of them inscrutably then coughed and buried her face in her scarlet scarf. ¡°Not keen at all,¡± she grumbled out through the wool.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Bert said sitting up with a wheeze and striding over to the ruined leg of the bear, he gave a low whistle as he pulled the fish blade free saying, ¡°Whoa, Fritz, you really did a number on this leg¡­ I can bear-ly recognise it.¡±

    Fritz groaned but Sid chuckled, then burst out into full belly laughter that cascaded into a shriek of unsuppressed mirth. It died down quickly and Sid looked away embarrassed, mumbling something to herself. Bert stared at her then turned to Fritz in wide-eyed surprise, he seemed to have been shaken by her admittedly startling reaction. Fritz shrugged assuming it was a similar phenomenon to his and Bert¡¯s own bursts of mad laughter. Just a product of the great pressure they were under.

    Hefting the fish blade easily, much more easily than himself Fritz observed enviously, Bert strode out into the now-howling winds outside the cave. He returned within minutes hauling one of the thin trees behind him then left again as soon as it was safe within the stone tunnel. Snow started to fall in earnest but he persisted in the biting cold as Fritz and Sid prepared a fire. Bert hauled in three more trees and was about to go for another when they stopped him.

    His bare feet were turning blue and he was shivering violently. He pretended to protest their demands that he stop but gave in easily after the sparks took to the kindling and caught aflame, scorching the too-green wood of the thin trees. After much care and attention the fire was burning merrily, but smoking horribly from their choice of fuel. They coughed and spluttered as the smoke rose to the roof of the cave and hung there like another storm.

    Fritz used his Stone Pit, calling on the rock to move into the general shape of a chimney, it took him a couple of casts, then a couple more to allow for more airflow. Then he was lying on the ground aching and groaning from fatigue. He was also still a little dizzy from his head injury that was just starting to swell. Fortunately, with his new stamina reserves and recovery, it wasn¡¯t as terrible as the last time he overused his magic and depleted his stores of energy.

    As he ¡®built¡¯ the chimney, Sid got started on carving up the bear, again using Fritz¡¯s bone dagger which was discovered lying near where he had been knocked down. It seemed it was the only blade that could cut through its hide with any precision. Sid got Bert to carry away any offal or organs they were unlikely to need and throw them out into the rising snow.

    When they weren¡¯t helping Sid with the bear or keeping the fire burning they watched the snow cover the ground outside, growing taller by the minute. It was a novel thing, as they had never seen snow before, the closest they got in Rain City was torrential storms, and even then they never veered into hail or snow territory. It was cool in Rain City, not freezing. Fritz knew you¡¯d have to head northwest towards the Major Spire of Ice to see anything of the sort. Not that you didn¡¯t have to be careful in Rain City, being cool and wet was a sure way to slip into a cold sleep and never wake again.

    Fritz reached out his hand, letting snow fall in his open palm. He then crunched it into a small ball and promptly threw it at the side of Bert¡¯s dumb head just as Bert scooped up some snow and flung it in his direction. They both laughed as they continued throwing handfuls of the ice-white powder at each other, much to Sid''s annoyance.

    ¡°Are you two kids? Cut it out!¡± She demanded turning to face them with bloodied hands and a dripping dagger.

    They spun on her, immediately throwing snowballs at her glowering expression. As the balls of ice soared through the air between them she smirked and wind whipped around her empty fist. She stuck out with a palm strike bursting their snowballs and blowing back what remained of a gust of air and splattering them with slush.

    They spluttered while wiping the snow from their faces and clothes then they booed her.

    ¡°Cheater!¡± Bert proclaimed.

    ¡°Spoilsport!¡± Fritz accused.

    Sid just poked her tongue out at them and turned back to her task, basking in the glow of her easy and total victory.

    Bert¡¯s belly growled so loudly that it seemed to be doing an impression of the bear. Fritz raised an eyebrow asking, ¡°Hungry?¡±

    ¡°So hungry I could eat a bear,¡± Bert confessed with a greedy grin.

    ¡°Well, Sid¡¯s still working on the bear, how about the¡­.other meat,¡± Fritz offered, but not willing to give name to the cat.

    ¡°I won''t say no to that,¡± Bert said amiably. ¡°Shall I spit it or build the frame?¡±

    ¡°Spit it, I¡¯ll build the frame,¡± Fritz said.

    After Bert nodded his assent Fritz shivered and walked away from the cave entrance, noticing the temperature in the cave was steadily dropping even with their small fire, he decided to throw on another cut length of wood. It sizzled and spat as its sap escaped and evaporated. Coughing from the new steam and smoke, Fritz wandered over to the spare trees Bert had cut down, he began to trim one down to make a spit to cook the monster meat on. After sawing away its branches and length to a suitable degree he threw it over to Bert who caught it deftly and meandered over to the great cat¡¯s carcass.

    Fritz looked away, focusing on cutting some lengths of wood for a frame to hold the spit. It took them about twenty minutes of trial and error to set everything up. They had never needed a frame or spit this big as the largest thing they had ever roasted was probably one of the water rats that plagued the Sunken Ring, they were large but not so large as this. They were able to heave the enormous monster onto the frame and over the smoking, spitting fire where it sat slowly cooking.

    The meat began to brown and thankfully without its fur and head it looked nothing like it had before. He felt less guilty and more hungry as watched the slow, delectable cooking process. Bert and Fritz took turns rotating the succulent flesh as it crisped up and trickles of fat dripped into the flames.

    They weren¡¯t sure if the meat was fully ready to eat but after some hours watching the roast they didn¡¯t care anymore. Especially after some of the things they ate in their time in the gutter, they reasoned if that rancid stuff didn¡¯t kill them then monster meat couldn¡¯t do much worse. Fritz cut sections off and shared the meat around serving Bert twice before he got to serve himself. He wobbled a little on unsteady legs but he felt that serving the beast up was the least he could do, since the other two had been far more instrumental both in the fight and in the preparation of the much needed meal.

    Once he did bite into the hot flesh he found was stringy, greasy and tough. It was gamy, but definitely not the worst thing he had eaten, it wasn¡¯t even metallic like the fish like he feared it would be. In fact due to the sheer warmth it filled him with he would¡¯ve rated it as one of his better meals since he was exiled from the orphanage. He ate as much as he could through his nausea and dizziness he had been feeling since he was knocked down by the bear. He kept it down and felt strength return to his trembling limbs.

    ¡°Not bad, definitely better than gutter cats,¡± Sid stated as she stripped the meat off of a leg bone with her teeth, wiping at the dribbling fat as it ran down to her chin.

    ¡°It¡¯s a little burnt and needs some seasoning. A small amount of salt or Gods willing some pepper would really elevate this dish,¡± Fritz suggested knowing they had no such things to use but saying it anyway, mostly to annoy Bert.

    ¡°Maybe you should get a cooking Technique then,¡± Bert groused between mouthfuls of meat.

    ¡°Fill one of my precious Technique Channels with a chef Technique?¡± Fritz said in exaggerated offence.

    ¡°Yeah, would come in handy. A guide who cooks would be much more welcome than one who whines,¡± Bert riposted.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t mention wines! What I would do for a good wine!¡± Fritz near wailed, putting the back of his hand to his forehead in imitation of a wilting maiden on the edge of fainting.

    Sid choked on her mouthful of food, spitting it into the fire and coughing. She pounded on her chest, only succeeding in clanging on her breastplate, but eventually cleared her throat. She glared at Fritz with wet eyes.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Fritz said abashed.

    Sid looked away and wiped her eyes with her scarf.

    Breaking the awkward silence Bert said, ¡°Forget a cook, we need a leather worker. These pelts are just gonna go to rot. What a waste.¡±

    Sid croaked something that might have been an agreement and Fritz sighed looking out towards the building wall of snow at the cave¡¯s entrance.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about the supply of wood,¡± Fritz said, looking meaningfully at Bert.

    Bert frowned but after glancing at the remaining supply of thin trees nodded and stood.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Sid croaked, then pulled out her blanket of oilcloth from where it was rolled and strapped on her pack. She handed the bundle to him and mimed wrapping it around herself when he stared blandly at her.

    He nodded seriously then pulled out his own oilcloth and wrapped the both of them over his shoulders, tying their corners together to make a makeshift cloak. Fritz handed him his fish blade, telling the weapon, ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that Quicksilver, just stick it out with that Brute for a small while, we¡¯ll be reunited soon.¡±

    Bert put on a false scowl and Sid rolled her blue eyes.

    He turned and began to leave, whispering sweet nothings to the fish blade.

    ¡°Stop seducing my sword!¡± Fritz cried, much to Bert¡¯s amusement as he grinned at him over his shoulder and waded into the snow and wailing winds.

    Sid watched him leave and said, ¡°You two are so strange.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Fritz responded with a wink and a smile.

    Sid shook her head slightly but smiled back easily, her eyes glinted in the flickering firelight.

    The wind picked up, and Fritz looked out the cave worriedly. Hoping the storm wouldn¡¯t be too bad, a hope that he felt had very little promise.

 Chapter 39

    They sat by the fire in companionable silence for about ten minutes before Bert brought back another trunk and then joined them by the fire¡¯s warmth.

    ¡°One more log,¡± Bert said shivering. ¡°That¡¯s it. Getting too cold out there.¡±

    Fritz walked over to the tunnel''s entrance and stuck his arm into the bitter, shearing wind. He pulled it back almost immediately, his hand stinging from the cold bite of the snowstorm.

    ¡°No. I think not, Bert,¡± Fritz said seriously. ¡°One more time would be a risk. Even with your Vitality. If you had something like an ice resistance Ability or Treasure maybe you¡¯d be okay, but I don¡¯t want you to risk it.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Thank the Gods!¡± Bert exhaled dropping and pretence of stoicism and rubbing his hands together rapidly in front of the flame.

    Fritz returned to his place by the fire and with nothing else to do, and feeling the room spin a little as he walked, he decided to sit. He held his hands to the warmth waiting for the bout of dizziness to settle.

    The storm rumbled and the winds wailed, snow eventually sealed the entrance to the cave, blocking the worst of the storm¡¯s bellowing cries but filling Fritz with a profound sense of unease. There was a pressure that pushed in from the walls like he was caught in some trap. Trap Sense lay dormant so he assumed it was just his own anxieties and the inability to keep moving upwards grating on his nerve.

    The temperature dropped even lower, and the stone became icy cold, leeching the heat from them as they remained in contact with the floor or walls. The cave was dark, the wall of snow blocking out the shrouded sun struggling to shine through the storm. The only light in the black and shadow came from the dancing flame. They had put away the glowstones because Fritz found it difficult to concentrate as the dizzying luminescence of the amber stones nauseated him. The others didn¡¯t seem so affected, so Fritz supposed it was a byproduct of his head injury.

    He rubbed the painful egg-sized lump on the back of his skull and winced. No one paid him any attention, they all seemed to be consumed by their own thoughts. Not content to be doing nothing Sid got up and busied herself with the bear and cat pelts, cutting and pulling more and more of the bear''s shaggy hide away from its flesh.

    A low mood seemed to take the crew, maybe it was the oppression of the cave, maybe it was the cold of the burgeoning blizzard or maybe it was just being stuck in place with their own frustration and worry congealing into bitter clouds of gloomy thought.

    Grumbling and shivering Sid lay down the steaming wet pelts by the fire for them to sit on, so as to retain some of their body¡¯s warmth instead of it being slowly drained away by the rocky floor. Fritz and Bert scrambled quickly to sit on them and Sid joined after a moment, choosing to sit beside Fritz.

    ¡°I regret throwing away my boots,¡± Bert said throwing a branch into the flames.

    ¡°I knew you would,¡± Fritz replied cradling his sore head.

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you stop me?¡± Bert said annoyed.

    ¡°Why would I, you never listen. Even when it¡¯s about your safety,¡± Fritz groused back, feeling his stomach lurch and anger well up along with the pulsing headache that had crept up on him while he ate.

    ¡°I have Vitality, my bones mend, it''s fine,¡± Bert said defensively.

    ¡°What happens when you lose a limb or your head?¡± Fritz argued back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I guess we¡¯ll see,¡± Bert said dismissively his face cast in a slight scowl.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see that,¡± Fritz stated angrily.

    ¡°Well I don¡¯t want to be here,¡± Bert admitted through his clenched jaw.

    ¡°Well we are,¡± Fritz said defiantly.

    ¡°We could have left, we¡¯re Pathers now,¡± Bert said obviously getting some grievance off his chest. ¡°We could be outside, met up with Toby and Jane and the girls. But no, we have to keep pushing, keep climbing. Nothing is ever enough for you.¡±

    Fury boiled in Fritz¡¯s dazed mind at the mention of Toby and Jane and he saw again in his mind them abandoning him and Bert not once but twice. Something snapped in his chest and he yelled, ¡°They abandoned us! Abandoned you! You may not know this but while we fought for the dagger, for your life, they ran again! We need more Power! Always more Power! How can we be free without Power!? I will be free and I will drag you with me whether you like it or not.¡±

    Bert¡¯s face changed, the bitter scowl replaced with a bitter grin, the grudge he had been holding washed away by Fritz¡¯s tirade.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that, Fritz,¡± Bert said sadly then sighed. ¡°The last floor was really rough, must¡¯ve put me in a mood. I can still feel my skin melting at times. Don¡¯t mind me, I¡¯ll be better in no time.¡± A shudder, distinct from his shivering, rippled over Bert.

    ¡°I will mind you, Bert, you¡¯re my brother,¡± Fritz said wearily, his rage sputtering out suddenly leaving only the hurt of betrayal, worry for Bert and the pounding of his head.

    Sid coughed, and they both startled, having forgotten she was there. Fritz felt embarrassment burn in his chest and his face alight with heat.

    ¡°You guys done?¡± Sid asked seriously.

    ¡°Yes,¡± they said together sheepishly.

    ¡°Good. We¡¯ve only got to get through this and then it¡¯s three floors left. We¡¯re more than halfway done, don¡¯t break on me yet,¡± Sid warned, her face as serious as Fritz had ever seen it. She nudged his shoulder with her own seemingly to take the edge off her comment and gave him a weak, tired smile.

    Seeing the rings under her eyes and her obvious fatigue Fritz said, ¡°Want to sleep first? I¡¯ll watch the fire, make sure it doesn¡¯t go out.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡± She replied in aching tones, stretching her legs and putting her hand to her mouth suppressing a yawn.

    ¡°Yeah, you and Bert sleep, I¡¯ll keep an eye out. I heard you shouldn¡¯t sleep with a head injury anyway,¡± Fritz justified also stifling a yawn and ignoring his bone-tired weariness.

    She nodded and began to lie down after placing her pack between herself and Fritz.

    ¡°Might want to take off the breastplate, metal tends to get cold,¡± Fritz suggested.

    She waved him away with a grunt and lay her head down, covered herself with her oilcloth as a blanket and pulled her legs and arms in close, curling herself up like a cat. Fritz saw that she was out in moments, her breathing quickly slipping into the soft rhythms of sleep. She¡¯s cute when she sleeps, Fritz observed.

    Bert on the other hand was a snoring beast, tossing and turning every couple of minutes, the contrast couldn¡¯t have been more stark. Fritz sighed. He had always wondered how Bert got any rest at all with all the erratic movement he made while he ¡®slept¡¯, but he supposed that was just how Bert was. He must have been born under some kind of restless star, mischievous comet or some other unruly omen.

    Fritz took his eyes off his companions, stared into the flickering flame and listened to the wind¡¯s howling. He found himself being slowly lulled into a half sleep and shook his head, then rooted through his pack pulled out his Technique book ¡®The Observations.¡¯ He began to leaf through its pages, trying to keep himself focused and awake rather than looking for any new insights or inspirations.

    The hours wore away as he read, his head slowly began to feel better. He lightly snacked on the monster meat, making sure not to stain the small journal with grease. In his hazy state, he thought he noticed something odd about the packed-together text and their arrangement, there was something there but he couldn¡¯t quite decipher whatever the book was trying to tell him. He kept touching upon one word though, one he knew was filled with some hidden meaning purposefully shrouded, some unknown weight left unenlightened.

    His Awareness caught on the word ¡®Authority¡¯ and it itched in his mind. The packed and telling passages referred to it as if it were a secret among Kings, Warlords and Tyrants. Something the journal equated with ease. It said they were one in the same no matter their beneficence or generosity. There was one thing they shared in common though and that was rule over the Spires and the lands around them. Fritz¡¯s head ached and he was unable to glean any more from the book¡¯s contents when Sid awoke and stared up at him with a bright blue eye.

    She yawned and Fritz could no longer suppress his own tiredness, yawning wide and uncaring.

    ¡°You look terrible, get some sleep. I¡¯ll watch now,¡± Sid said sitting up slowly and handing him her oilcloth sheet.

    Fritz was so tired he barely responded, he took the still-warm blanket and grunted in appreciation. He wrapped himself tight in the slick, scratchy fabric and the darkness took him.

    His dreams were free of blood but no less harrowing. He was running through shadowed cobblestone streets. Hiding in his bedroom closet. He was a child again, was he ever anything else? Peeking through a small crack in the door, seeing the towering, armoured men crush and steal, hurt and kill, burn and maim, making pain. He was weak and watching, unable to stop the grave injustice, both in front of his eyes and everywhere else. Paralysed. Terrified of their strength and the price he would pay to oppose. Everything was so heavy, his shoulders sagged, he was falling through the floor under the weight.

    The closet floor gave way or wasn¡¯t ever there at all, it didn¡¯t matter. Nightmare, Fritz, wake up. He fell through the endless black, but the weight never left him it was getting more painful, more burdensome and heavier, always heavier, right there in his chest pulling him down, pinning him to the falling floor. He cried out for relief, to be freed.

    She heard and turned her gaze on him. He couldn¡¯t see the terrible black eyes but he knew without a doubt and with every fibre of his being that she saw him. There was a chain, even darker than the blackness around and it bound him to her, it wrapped tightly around his centre right by his heart and she held the other end in her hands. He struggled against the unbreakable links and through the cold bond he could feel her pleasure. She enjoyed that he fought, that he strived to break his fate and take revenge no matter the price. She smiled a terrible, beautiful smile.

    He woke with a yelp, startling Sid beside him. Her shocked visage was quickly replaced with a scowl tinged with care and worry.

    ¡°Nightmare?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Maybe, she was there too,¡± Fritz tried to explain blearily as the dream began to dissipate, flittering away, fleeting like the shadows of birds soaring overhead.

    ¡°She?¡± Sid inquired with an odd expression on her face.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It''s all jumbled up and fading away,¡± Fritz said, trying to hold onto the memory with his muddy mortal mind. But it was gone within moments, leaving only a strange sense of captivity or perhaps unwilling and unwitting service.

    ¡°We¡¯re running out of wood,¡± Sid said puncturing through his hazy thoughts.

    ¡°Already? How long was I asleep?¡± Fritz said glancing around the cave, his eyes clearing into his normal attentive intensity. He spotted less wood on the fire, probably to preserve what fuel they had and the thin layer of rime over the stone further away from their small source of light.

    ¡°Dunno, hours and hours,¡± Sid stated with steaming breath. ¡°Can¡¯t see the sun.¡±

    The wind was still wailing as powerfully as it had been before he slept, and the cold was even more bitter and brutal. He shuffled closer to the dwindling flame, and its wonderful warmth. Bert continued to snore loudly.

    ¡°How much longer do you think the storm will go on?¡± Fritz inquired not really expecting an answer. It was frustrating to be stuck in this cave, forced to stay in one place for so long, unable to progress.

    ¡°Find a weather mage,¡± Sid said unhelpfully. ¡°Or better yet pick up Weather Sense or something.¡±

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    ¡°Now that would be the most boring Sense to pick. Especially in Rain City.¡± Fritz pointed out.

    ¡°What will the weather be like today? Oh, rain? What about tomorrow? Rain again? How about the rest of the week? Can you believe it!? It will rain in Rain City for the whole week! Who could¡¯ve predicted that oh wise weather mage?¡± Fritz sarcastically performed.

    Sid smiled along with his little act and said, ¡°Might be good for storms though. And Spires.¡±

    Fritz tilted his head acknowledging her point in a half-nod and with a smile of his own. His emotions felt raw after the dream and he was having a hard time keeping his mind under control, but Sid¡¯s presence soothed him and sanded down the edges of his horror.

    They sat there, smiling at each other. There it was that pretty smile again, even if her lips were dry and pale from the cold. Fritz peered into her bright blue eyes and she met his gaze with her own, unwavering and intent. Suddenly there were a flurry of feelings racing through his chest, swirling around his now rapidly pounding heart. He felt a closeness, a bond of trust and some sort of gratitude mixed in with something else, something he couldn¡¯t name. All those things and more pulled him toward Sid.

    They were sitting close together Fritz now realised, her shoulder rubbing up against his own. In that moment, sharing their warmth, he wanted more.

    He leaned his head closer to hers and her pupils widened as his face drew near. He could hear her heart speed up, sounding in compliment to his own rapid beat. Sid slowly craned her neck, Sid closed her beautiful blue eyes and Sid gently lowered her lips towards his, setting them on an inevitable collision course.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got this, Snail! Spray them! They will never take our friendship!¡± Bert yelled in his sleep as he tossed about.

    Fritz and Sid jumped. Broken out of whatever trance they had been caught in, they both shuffled a couple of inches away from each other. Both were blushing furiously and Bert continued to snore, completely unaware of what had almost happened.

    What had almost happened? What were they about to do? Bad idea, Fritz, really bad, no matter how strong, how pretty she happens to be, Fritz admonished himself. He knew it was also something of an unspoken, and sometimes spoken, rule for Climber not to get entangled with ¡®others¡¯ in the team while in a Spire. It could raise unknown ¡®issues¡¯ and create a whole lot of tension, competition and bitterness. There were lots of complications that a Climber couldn¡¯t afford in the life and death situations in a Spire. Climbers mingling freely was not one of the complications most teams wanted to countenance.

    That¡¯s not to say that the romantically involved didn¡¯t go in Spires together. But it was generally accepted that new relationships blossoming, especially after some great danger, in the Spire were heavily discouraged; and rightly so Fritz thought. They had almost fallen prey to one of the great blunders, one he thought he¡¯d never have to worry about. Especially with Sid of all people, though that was before he got to know her.

    You could cut the tension in the air with a fish blade until Fritz cleared his throat, ¡°Whoa, must have still been caught up in a bit of a dream there,¡± he lied.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t it a nightmare,¡± Sid replied stiltedly.

    ¡°Well the first part was,¡± Fritz said easily. ¡°But the second half might be some dream I¡¯d like to return to. Out of the Spire of course,¡± He continued with more difficulty, trying to make his feelings clear in vague terms.

    Sid looked away, stood up and moved to the other side of the fire and sat. She pulled her scarf over her mouth and mumbled something he could only just hear, ¡°not keen. I have plans outside.¡± Fritz would be lying if he said the answer didn¡¯t hurt, didn¡¯t crush him, but he bore it with his false smile.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not important,¡± he said, eliciting a flashing glare from her grim, resolute eyes.

    ¡°I hope the storm breaks soon, without wood we¡¯ll freeze,¡± Fritz continued.

    They sat in silence, listening to the howling wind and the crackling of the small campfire. The hours passed. Bert woke from his sleep and upon noticing the strange mood in the air said, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Wood¡¯s getting low,¡± Fritz and Sid said together. Bert looked from one to the other and gave them a smug, knowing grin.

    ¡°We better huddle up while we can to keep warm,¡± Bert supplied extremely unhelpfully with a near disastrous wink.

    ¡°Maybe once we¡¯re actually freezing,¡± Fritz suggested.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m freezing!¡± Bert exclaimed and hugged Fritz to his side, sharing his considerable warmth.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because of the sleeveless vest?¡± Sid said drily.

    ¡°I¡¯m no weather mage but maybe it''s because of the blizzard,¡± Bert espoused smugly, to which Sid rolled her eyes but a small smirk poked through her gruff exterior. Fritz couldn¡¯t help but chuckle as some of the tension left the cave, escaping with the smoke.

    ¡°On the bright side, we¡¯ve got plenty of bear meat,¡± Bert continued. ¡°Better cook it up while there¡¯s still a fire.¡±

    Sid nodded and pointed to a stack of bear steaks and other hunks of monster meat that she had obviously cut while they slept.

    Bert stood and started hauling over the thick slabs of frozen flesh and spitting them on the length of scorched wood they used for the great cat''s spit. He could see why Sid hadn¡¯t done it herself as the frozen meat proved to be almost as tough as rock, still, Bert¡¯s strength and Concussive Blow were up to the task and the meat was over the fire within minutes.

    They watched as it roasted, taking it off when it was done and putting more meat on. They obtained a sizeable amount of provisions this way, definitely enough for the next couple of floors in Fritz¡¯s opinion. Unfortunately, the bone mould bear tasted bad, like sweet, starchy leather. It was probably as bad as the metallic fish, if not worse. The heavy meat also had an entirely unpleasant chalkiness to it, that lined the mouth with something akin to bone meal. It caused Fritz to cough even as he chewed the tough flesh.

    ¡°Yuck,¡± Bert choked. Sid spat to the side and attempted to rinse out her mouth from her water skin but found it frozen solid. She instead pulled some snow free from the slowly encroaching wall of ice and used that to clean her tongue instead.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s worse than the fish?¡± Fritz said scowling at his meal and almost wishing for the cat meat again. Almost.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Bert agreed.

    They sat there eating cooking and coughing for some time until the wood ran out, they even burnt the frame and spit having no further use for them without fuel. The small chimney quickly filled with snow and ice leaving them in a deep dark, with only the flickering embers of the last log gleaming softly in the gloom.

    That¡¯s when the cold came in truth. Fritz and Bert were already huddled and it didn¡¯t take much time for Sid to join them in the huddle of oilcloth blankets, monster skins and shivering people. She wrapped her arms around them and they did so in return, but Fritz winced as her brutally cold breastplate sapped the warmth from his skin.

    ¡°You¡¯re still wearing that piece of metal, take it off it''s freezing us,¡± Fritz complained.

    Sid looked uncertain, almost fearful, but after a vehement nod from Bert she unclasped and opened it with trembling numb hands and threw it off and away. She rejoining the huddle, with a sigh of relief as they all pressed together. Fritz tried not to look at her and she seemed to be doing the same, it was a testament to the biting cold that he barely felt anything from her touch. No sudden heat of desire or longing, just a want to be warm again.

    ¡°Wish I was back on the snail floor, so warm,¡± Fritz hissed choppily through his chattering teeth.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Bert and Sid said.

    He did so, and the hours wore on. The wailing wind seemed like it would never end, that the snow would never stop falling and that the frost would be forever. The blizzard hit a crescendo the cave seemed to rumble and the air outside screamed. Fritz pulled his crew tighter and prayed under his breath to whichever Gods could hear him ¡°Arravankis, Ton¡¯var, Jorved, Alestria, Far¡¯Zael, Devalle, Hargott, Res¡¯quotal,¡± he muttered those names and more besides. Over and over. He thought he could hear the others doing the same, though Bert seemed to be listing off food rather than praying.

    The cold was terrible, he was completely numb but also burning, he barely had the strength to shiver. Ice built up around their huddle and Fritz felt his eyelids freeze closed. The brutal cold stretched on and on as if it would never end, their prayers stopped and Fritz thought he would die for sure. His heart slowed, he could only hear it as a distant drum, he felt the need to sleep but he fought the fugue with all his furious will. So cold. Just a quick nap.

    He was beginning to nod when he felt a change in the air, like the storm had passed. The rumbling, howling winds grew dimmer, soaring away to torment and cover some other land with endless cold. It was over quicker than it came and the sudden quiet felt eerie and unnatural after the constant barrage of ice. The cold remained longer though and they hugged each other close, shivering and hissing out burning breaths.

    Slowly the cave warmed and they found themselves no longer shivering, their small huddle was iced over and their clothes and blankets cracked as they broke free from their now uncomfortably warm embrace. They brushed off the ice as they stood and Sid took out her amber glowstone, illuminating the still-dark tunnel. They looked at each other in the swirling light and without saying a word began to put away their equipment and prepared provisions in their magical packs.

    They were ready to move out of the cave in less than a minute, and Fritz wanted nothing more than to never see it or feel that sort of cold again. Leaving behind the stiff and frozen-to-the-floor hides, they gathered at the snowed-over entrance and Fritz motioned to the wall of ice, saying, ¡°Bert, your arm, as always, is needed.¡±

    Bert stretched his back, rolled his shoulders and flexed his muscles as he sauntered up to the snow. His fists rippled and he struck out with both arms in a palm strike, blowing away the interposing ice and letting the sun shine through.

    They grinned under the sun¡¯s warm rays and Fritz cheered while Sid let out a high whistle.

    Bert bowed, but they ran past him, scrabbling into the hole he made and crawling out into the bright day and its clear blue sky.

 Chapter 40

    Fritz immediately breathed a deep lungful of crisp, cool and wonderfully fresh air, something that was denied him in the smokiness of the cave they had taken shelter in. He listened to the quiet of the forest, paying close attention for the crunching sound of snow under boots or padded paws. He could pick up nothing save their own soft footsteps. Even the wind was subdued, now a gentle sigh as if the sky had spent all its rage on the howling storm and now lay sleeping, dormant once more.

    It was still cold but the sun¡¯s rays warmed them in both body and mind. Fritz looked enviously at Sid¡¯s scarf wishing he had one of his own. Maybe in purple, or green like my eyes, he considered.

    He didn¡¯t need to search at all to see where they had to go to ascend to the next floor. There was a pillar of snow that reached as high as a Spire and stood bright and pure in the sun¡¯s rays. It rose from the top of the hill Fritz had climbed, a much higher point than he had actually dared to walk. Gauging the distance and the incline, he estimated it would take an hour or two of hiking to get there.

    ¡°Think that¡¯s it?¡± Bert said pointing at the icy tower and shuffling on his bare feet.

    ¡°Probably,¡± Fritz responded, then used his Door Sense to feel out the direction of the stairway, just in case. Predictably he felt the tingling and instinctual sense that the Stairway was indeed close to or even was the pillar of snow.

    ¡°Feel¡¯s like it,¡± Fritz amended.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to it,¡± Sid stated.

    Fritz and Bert nodded and they set off through the forest. Occasionally great clumps of snow would fall from the canopy or drops of icy slush would drip down on them, making them jump, shudder or curse when the freezing water hit them. It was miserable and cold, but compared to the oppressive torture of the cave the climate was nothing more than an inconvenience and their spirits remained high. Sid dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding some falling slush, her small display of prowess encouraged something of a game; Dodge the Snow. Bert and Fritz joined in the contest eagerly.

    Bert used a combination of his Arte Pugilist Technique and Agility, using quick footwork, sidesteps and rolls to slip under the slush just before it made contact with his skin. While Sid seemed to be using her Reflex, Grace and Agility to dodge by a hair¡¯s breadth and when that occasionally didn¡¯t work, she incorporated her Wind Step to blur out of the snow¡¯s path. Fritz just employed his usual strategy of watching and weaving. He would predict the cascading cold by its signature sound and would move with precision out of its path before it could shower him with ice.

    They all had some degree of success but Sid seemed to be the best at it, which was to be expected, all her Advanced Attributes made her as slippery as an eel. Grace refined her movements, balance and precision, Reflex allowed her to react quicker to danger and Agility mixed in to enhance all her dexterous, agile qualities beyond human limits.

    Fritz suspected that Attributes both normal and Advanced worked best when they complemented each other. He had been seeing it more and more as he got used to his new Attributes and Powers, noticing their more subtle interactions. His Perception and Awareness were foremost among these ¡®synergies¡¯, almost blending together at the edges of their respective demesnes.

    Perception would help him see or hear something and Awareness would help to qualify what he was perceiving with ephemeral impressions and images. It also seemed to work the other way, with Awareness pointing out unusual or normally unnoticeable patterns or guiding him with strange urges or tingles that alerted him to something he couldn''t see or hear. Which in turn allowed him to search and find whatever he was missing.

    Focus and Memory had something to do with it as well. Focus let him narrow or filter the input from his senses along with Memory which helped him retain a more precise spatial sense, as he could remember the area around him with more detail. Control however, apart from its uses with his Abilities seemed to also help with the organisation and ¡®control¡¯ of his mind and emotion, he¡¯d definitely felt that he could suppress his fear, pain and sadness far easier than before. But maybe that was just the gruelling trials of the Spire hardening his heart and dulling his spirit.

    I don¡¯t want to be whittled away.

    The thought jarred him and he almost let a rush of falling slush splatter over him as it sloshed to the snowy ground. Fritz cursed only to see Bert dashing ahead striking the trees in Sid¡¯s path. It seemed that he was trying to cause as much snow to fall on Sid as he could, thereby winning the dodging game. His gambit was failing. Sid near danced through the trees and cascading snow then ran ahead of Bert. She retaliated in kind, kicking a tree with her long legs and dumping a load of slush straight into his path and onto his head.

    Bert spluttered and cursed her but Fritz thought he deserved the dousing, turnabout is fair play. Their game continued for some more minutes until it became clear that Bert could never outrun Sid, nor dodge nearly as well. Mostly because of her Fleet Passive, which Fritz reminded Bert of much to his annoyance as he had forgotten about that little fact. With a declaration of defeat from Fritz and an accusation of cheating from Bert, the game was won and done.

    Sid was strutting ahead with the self-satisfied smile of victory on her face, Bert followed behind glowering as Fritz walked beside him absently admiring the scenery. They made their way closer to the Stairway, noticing no monsters nor animals on the way. The uninhabited stillness was troubling him, but as they had nowhere but up to go they kept on walking.

    The quietness intensified and even Bert began to notice the change in atmosphere as he looked around and whispered, ¡°Awfully quiet, think it¡¯s trouble?¡±

    ¡°In a Spire, it¡¯s always trouble,¡± Fritz said softly. ¡°Come back, let the scout, scout.¡±

    Sid grunted in agreement, pulling back from where she had been walking ahead of them, and joining Bert by a small rock formation. Fritz skulked up ahead of them toward the tower that was now only about a five-minute walk away from them. The enormous, snowy spire was in the centre of a clearing, bare of trees much like the first floor, and covered in a blanket of pristine white. The Stairway was right there; it was an arch of green marble, pressed into the bright white of the snow and opening onto a familiar and welcome staircase of that self-same green.

    His awareness twinged, there was something not quite right here, he searched the snow, looking for anything out of place. It was faint but he thought he could see a spot in the snow, right by the entrance to the stairway, that was moving slightly wrong in the slight breeze caressing the hilltop. The glistening white of the snow pile was the same as the rest of the snow but as the light winds buffeted the strange spot he could see a waving like that of fur. It also seemed to be rising and falling, almost imperceptibly. Well, it would have been imperceptible if not for my Attributes.

    He scanned for more piles of ¡®breathing¡¯ snow but saw no other obvious dangers lying in wait. He turned back to his crew, as they stood still suppressing their keen desire to sprint straight at the Stairway climb up and out of the cold. Fritz sympathised, feeling that same urge himself, he wanted to throw caution to the wind and race into and up the stairs but he knew it was an unnecessary and potentially deadly risk.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°One monster, hidden in the snow and right by the Stairway,¡± Fritz relayed to his antsy fellows, pointing to where he knew the creature to be.

    ¡°Plan?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Hit it with an arrow, bait it over here, blind it with shadow and acid, run into the Stairway. No need to fight whatever it is,¡± Fritz outlined, to the eager nods of both of his crew.

    Sid nocked a translucent arrow and wreathed it in twisting wind that spun up the powdery snow around her. She loosed, the arrow soared and struck where Fritz had indicated the monster lay. The wind arrow plunged into the white fur, its glassy tip buried past think hide and into tough muscle. Streaming red blood began to trickle down the arrow''s shaft and the white beast burst out of its crouch and roared.

    With a better view of the monster he could see it had remarkably human-looking hands with long black talons. It had two large, dark and curling horns on either side of its head and hole-like nostrils in its pale, flat face along with pitch-black eyes that gave its visage the impression of a flesh-less skull. Its powerful howl ceased as it closed its massive jaws and Fritz could see two huge black tusks protruding upwards from its fanged under-bite. It stood to its full height on two legs and reached at least nine feet tall.

    Hunching over again, it rushed at them on its hands and feet, bowling its way through the deep snow between them. Sid had enough time during its loping charge to plant an arrow in its shoulder causing the beast to grunt in pain and continue its rush as Bert ran up to flank it.

    As the slowest member of the team, Fritz began sprinting towards the tower of snow as Bert cast his Corrosive Spray, the arc of acid splashed over the creature''s skull-like face. It howled in fury, stopping suddenly and wiping its massive hands over its face trying to remove the caustic liquid as it sizzled against its skin. Its monstrous hands and face began blistering and Sid ran past the agonised beast when Bert let off another spray, covering its right shoulder, causing its attention to turn to him, boiling rage in its dark eyes as it charged at him in mad, loping dash.

    That proved to be a bad move on the monster''s part as Bert let off another jet of misting acid straight into its eyes. It blindly swung its terrible black talons at where Bert had been, but he easily slipped under its clumsy blow and rushed past its body. Fritz cast his Illusory Shadow, stretching the ethereal energy into a black disc for Bert to duck through.

    Bert, in all his great wisdom, decided to turn and swing a sweeping kick at the monster with the extra momentum of his spin. His bare and blue-tinged foot rippled with waves of force and slammed into the beast¡¯s backside with a loud thud, knocking the white monster forward and forcing it to fall onto its front with a yelp. Bert turned and ran through the Illusory Shadow with a huge grin on his idiot face. The beast howled in fury then went silent, rubbing at its eyes and listening for their footsteps in the crunching snow.

    Fritz had a bad feeling about its reaction and called out a warning just as it dived towards where it could hear Bert¡¯s retreat. ¡°Run! It can hear you, we haven¡¯t hurt it any, it¡¯s just pissed off.¡±

    The white beast charged, it was a maelstrom of reckless swings and hoarse howling, gaining quickly on the still-grinning Bert as it flailed through the illusory shadow without even seeing it.

    What a waste of a spell, Fritz lamented as he was still running and looking over his shoulder as the creature rampaged closer and closer to his friend. He could see the wild passion in Bert¡¯s eyes, one that threatened to push him to turn and face the beast again. Fritz knew the thing would tear the maniac to pieces if its monstrous claws got in range, regardless of his Vitality and Imbued Bones.

    Fritz did what he could, shaping a hole with Stone Pit, forcing the stubborn dirt beneath the snow to form a slightly deeper hole, then he cast it again in the same place deepening the original again. He watched and worried that the best would just step over his trap but fortunately he had placed the pit perfectly. The monster tripped, its foot sliding into the twice cast hole and falling again onto its face with a yelp.

    ¡°Stop staring and get moving,¡± Sid''s voice called down to them. Looking to where he heard her Fritz saw she was already standing by the Stairway panting out steaming breath. He resumed his run even though the spells had taken out a chunk of his stamina. He reached her just after Bert and they followed her up and out of the floor, leaving the howling beast behind to impotently rage at the bottom of the Stairway.

    ¡°Huh, they can''t come up the stairs?¡± Bert asked with a hint of disappointment.

    ¡°No, but that doesn¡¯t mean they''re not still dangerous. You¡¯ve heard the tale of the Climbers who taunted the dragon, right?¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Mocking Matt and the Scorched Stairway?¡± Sid provided.

    ¡°Yeah, that one. Turns out the story''s got some truth to it. A monster¡¯s body can''t pass through the Doors but its Abilities or Traits will, such as a Dragon¡¯s Breath. As Matt and his crew learned, lethally,¡± Fritz explained as they plodded up the green stairs.

    ¡°Ouch,¡± Bert commented.

    ¡°Yes, ouch.¡± Fritz agreed as the stairway opened up into the Well Room.

    The room resembled the cave they braved the blizzard in, except it had primitive paintings of figures fighting an assortment of monsters scrawled on the walls and in its centre was a bonfire burning in the same eerie blue-green colour of the Sunken Spire¡¯s pinnacle light. Fritz glanced around at the cave painting and realised the figures in the depictions were them.

    ¡°Hey, look, that¡¯s Sid facing down the snail,¡± Fritz said walking up and gesturing to the small stick figure with yellow hair and white chest. It was loosing arrows at the crude painting of the giant salt-snail, in all its red and quartz glory.

    ¡°Great, something new for you to grope,¡± Bert exclaimed cheerily, to which Sid huffed out a sigh of annoyance.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you can grope a painting,¡± Fritz reasoned with a slight frown falling across his brow.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯d know best,¡± Bert chortled as he joined Sid by the ghostly bonfire.

    It turned out the fire was the source of Power for this Well Room, the licks of flame warming them rather than burning them as they traced their fingers through its odd blue-green light. Fritz pulled the Power into his Sanctum but didn¡¯t immediately drop within his private world to align it. He instead ran his hand through the pleasant warmth of the fire and watched as the tendrils of blue-green wrapped and slithered around his fingers in odd and eldritch ways. It was unsettling to say the least, but Fritz thought he could learn something from its strange contorted movements, especially the way the shadows it cast madly danced on the walls and floor.

    He committed it to memory as best he could, willing his Senses, Control, Focus and of course Memory to enhance his capacity to do so. On a fleeting, fey whim he wondered if he could bring the fire into his Sanctum and preserve its image there. My Sanctum is a mental construct after all, would it work and what would happen?

    Using all of his Senses, Perception and Awareness he took his time staring deep into its distorted light, mapping its movements and tracing its terrible trembling edges. He held the impression of the twisting, blue-green flames and dove into his Sanctum. The eldritch fire squirmed in his thoughts, but he maintained his mental grip on it with fingers of Control and Focus, bringing the fire with him.

    He stood in the rain and heard sizzling. There the eldritch flame was, a flickering ball about the size of his head. It hovered above the palm of his outstretched hand, floating and glaring at him in a way that reminded him of some monster¡¯s malevolent eye. The drizzle hit the ball¡¯s surface steaming away in small puffs of white. Now that he was here, in his Sanctum, he took in his surroundings. The moment he did so, his concentration on the fire wavered, his Control faltered and the flame fell, engulfing his hand.

    His arm caught alight in a flash of blue-green and his flesh was scorched, twisting and blackening within moments. In his terror and agony, the wind screamed and he joined it. The rain intensified, coming down in a torrent over him and the slowly creeping eldritch fire. The blue-green flame spat and hissed as it was doused with the falling water. Fritz shook his hand rapidly through the air but the fire clung to him like glue. He spun wildly, searching for anything to put out the terrible fire, to remove the horrible hurt of its searing touch even as it slowly crept up his forearm.

    A pond! A puddle! Anything! He begged inwardly. There was a puddle only three feet away and he dived for it plunging his entire arm up to the shoulder into its cool depths. He expected the burning to cease and the flame to be extinguished. But he was wrong. The pond began to bubble and boil and within a few moments steam was pouring forth, filling the air with white clouds that billowed and shifted into nightmarish apparitions that cackled at his agonised cries.

    He despaired, and frantically searched for a way out, any escape. But he knew there wasn¡¯t a way out, his Sanctum was him, and the fire would consume everything he was if he didn¡¯t get it under control.

    That¡¯s it Control, Focus. Calm down and use your attributes fool. You brought it in here and you had it under your Power as long as were concentrating on keeping it in place.

    Fritz concentrated on the creeping flame, pushing the pain of burning aside with a force of will and a flex of Control and Focus. He bent all his attention on the blue-green fire and pushed it back down his arm. It responded, fighting him the whole way but slowly retreating down and onto his palm. Now that he knew he could affect it and the searing had been contained to his palm he focused on the next step.

    It resisted, trying to bend out of his grip but he held it tight in his mind¡¯s eye and grasped it. He pried the sticky flame off with his will and forced it back into an orb of blue-green light. He pulled his hand free of the water, holding the ball of eldritch flame in place to boil in the deep puddle for a time, keeping his Focus locked tight on it while he let his mind search for solutions. He ignored his hand, no matter how badly he needed to see the damage, that could come later.

    The flame almost left his metal grip again, but he redoubled his efforts to keep it contained, though it did seem the abundance of water in his Sanctum was helping. He shuddered to think what would have happened if there had been no rain or puddles. What else did he have though? The water was just a temporary solution, he needed something more permanent or something that could cast the fire out.

    The flame kept struggling, almost breaking free again as he attempted to plan. I need more Control, he thought sourly. If only I had-

    He almost slapped himself for his idiocy and reached out to his willow with his thoughts and feeling for the Power he had received but a few minutes before.

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    He immediately Aligned his three free Attributes to Control, letting the Power¡¯s cold energy distract him for a moment. The flame began to slip free of his hold. His Sanctum became less blurry and more defined, he felt the branches of his willow stiffen and knew he could bend them and their shadows to sway where he willed. He added his new Control to his effort to contain the flame and found it easier, catching, sculpting and reducing the malevolent orb to the about size of a ripe lime. It was still fighting, still boiling, but he had it secured for the moment, giving him some time and mental capacity to think about what to do with the cruel flame.

    Was there anything that could hold the fire? The pavilion? No. The Willow? Double no. Wait, wasn¡¯t there a heater or brazier we would bring out in the colder months? Yes, of course. That big brass thing covered in carvings of Fire Lizards, that¡¯ll do perfectly.

    Quickly decided, he moved the orb, pulling it out of its puddle prison and letting it float a foot in front of his furrowed brow. He walked forward with caution, slowly trudging over the muddy ground and to his silver and purple pavilion. It strained his mind as he dragged himself and the fire into the wooden structure, he felt the sodden floorboards creak under his wobbling gait and glanced around for the brazier. It was nowhere to be seen. Frustration boiled in his chest and his head ached awfully from his exertion, no, not just his head, but his arm as well.

    Don¡¯t think of your hand idiot, he admonished himself as the pain he had been pushing away reasserted itself. He scrunched his eyes closed, his head throbbed from being pushed and pulled so many ways. There was a soft clank somewhere to his left, somewhere in the shadows. He opened his eyes to see exactly what he was looking for, the brazier lying on its side rocking slightly as if it had just been pushed over.

    Using his last shreds of will, Fritz staggered over to the fallen brazier and righted it. The fiery orb deformed, bumps and ridges forming from its searing surface, small tentacles of flame extending and moving with a maleficent will fire shouldn¡¯t possess. Before the ball of eldritch flame could burst he plunged it into the brazier''s open bowl, holding it there in the scorched centre and commanding the brass to hold its weird and warping heat.

    As Fritz¡¯s will broke so too did the orb break, bursting against the metal. It reared up and roared in terrible triumph, then trembled as its touch couldn¡¯t melt the brazier and its tendrils were trapped within the brass bowl. Its roar diminished into something of a groan of despair.

    Fritz collapsed, unable to think or move. He was being shaken, but not here, somewhere else. He felt his consciousness slipping, fluttering away as he gazed into the eerie fire dancing eerily in its brazier.

    The flame filled his vision wreathing the whole world in bright blue-green, the pounding of rain filled his ears, a terrible storm filled his mind.

    Then he knew nothing more.

 Chapter 41

    Fritz groaned, the floor rocked and he spun dangerously on the cool stone. He struggled fitfully, grabbing onto the ground lest he be thrown off. He was dewy with sweat and an oilcloth blanket lay over his body. He searched for Sid and Bert, groggily turning his head to where he could see them eating some bear meat and whispering worriedly, their words reached his ears as garbled nonsense and he had to focus to comprehend what was being said.

    ¡°Urgh this stuff is foul,¡± Bert groused, spitting out some of the powdery residue left in his mouth by his meal. ¡°Hey look. Fritz is waking.¡±

    Sid turned her head to where Fritz lay, the tension in her face and rigid posture easing somewhat. He attempted to give her a wave but found his left arm difficult to move. Fritz couldn''t feel his left hand, it was numb, unresponsive and tingling with uncomfortable heat. He wondered why. Had he hurt himself as he ran from the white beast? Then the memory of agony, the feeling of the cruel flame searing his hand in his Sanctum slammed into his still pounding head.

    ¡°Argh,¡± he groaned again through painfully dry lips.

    Bert scowled but still rushed to his side, ¡°You okay Fritz? What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked in low tones.

    ¡°Water,¡± Fritz exhaled, feeling an incredible thirst and hunger. He felt completely drained and he ached all over, especially his scorched arm.

    Bert handed Fritz his water skin, and he took it with his thankfully unburnt right hand. Fritz sat up and drank down the water greedily then asked for something to eat, to which Bert obliged, bringing him some of their rations.

    Sid walked over and sat in front of his feet. ¡°What happened, Fritz? You were in your sanctum for a while. Then you started sweating and whimpering and wouldn''t wake when we shaked you,¡± Sid explained in a voice both gentle and gruff.

    Fritz considered what to tell them, not really understanding himself what had happened. He sighed or tried to, the mealy texture in his mouth from the bear meat caused him to cough and splutter instead.

    Bert slapped him rhythmically on the back a couple of times in an attempt to allay his small coughing fit. It worked mostly and Fritz¡¯s coughs subsided and he gave Bert a grateful smile.

    Fritz began to explain what he could, ¡°I saw the strange bonfire, you see. And I wondered if I could bring it into my Sanctum. So I used all my Senses and Attributes to try and bring it with me.¡±

    Sid and Bert looked at him puzzled.

    ¡°Why?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°You can do that?¡± Bert inquired, seemingly interested in the concept.

    Sid frowned, both in anger and concentration then said, ¡°Answer Bert¡¯s question first, what happened?¡±

    ¡°Well, it worked. Sort of,¡± Fritz said raising his left arm. He stared at it as did the others. It looked the same as ever, pale but outwardly unblemished by the burns he knew were there. He tried to move it and felt a painful tingling rush down his whole forearm, hand and down to the very tips of his fingers. The terrible pain was like pins and needles but far worse, like the needles were molten and the pins were coated in lime juice. He gritted his teeth against the agony. His fingers did move then, sluggishly, twitching as he clenched his hand into a fist. He didn¡¯t know how tightly he was tensing as there was no sensation of touch, just that horrible burning.

    ¡°Is something meant to happen? Why are you staring at your hand, Fritz?¡± Bert said as if he were worried for his friend''s sanity. He didn¡¯t have to worry about that, Fritz hoped.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to move and I can only feel a burning, tingling feeling all over it. When I pulled the fire with me into my Sanctum I dropped it and it severely scorched my arm.¡±

    ¡°Scorched? It''s only a warm tickle,¡± Sid stated, glancing back at the ghostly bonfire in the cave¡¯s centre.

    ¡°Down there, in my Sanctum, it was as hot as any fire and as evil as any daemon,¡± Fritz explained dramatically, sweat beading on his brow as he relived the flame¡¯s touch. ¡°It clung to me, then I had to use my Control and Focus to contain it. I tried to douse it in a puddle but it didn¡¯t work. I ended up aligning my Attributes to Control to help. That worked and I was able to store it in a brazier safely. At least I hope it''s safe, I haven¡¯t had time to check as I passed out, or maybe died,¡± Fritz ended with a strained smirk.

    Bert huffed out an amused breath and Sid looked like she wanted to roll her eyes but didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Now back to my question. Why?¡± Sid asked seriously.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it was just a whim, I guess,¡± Fritz admitted, a little confused as to why he did it himself. He reached back into his memories to try and remember what he was thinking but found the recollection of the event shrouded by the pain and terror of the eldritch flame. He shrugged, wincing as the movement caused his hand to sting terribly.

    Sid¡¯s frown deepened, ¡°Don¡¯t do things like that! Idiot! You bloody fool! We¡¯re almost at the top and you do stupid things like this!¡± She started berating him, more angry than he¡¯d ever seen her. Well, save for when she had strangled him with her scarf, which she looked on the verge of doing again as she wrung its red wool tightly between her fingers.

    ¡°I agree!¡± Bert interjected while suppressing a grin. He seemed to find Sid berating Fritz amusing. ¡°Keep your idiocy on the outside of the Spire.¡±

    ¡°As if you¡¯re much better than I!¡± Fritz yelled exasperated.

    Bert nodded his head sagely, ¡°Yes, Fritz, my idiocy is far better than yours,¡± he espoused while grinning smugly.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± Fritz and Sid said together.

    ¡°You¡¯re both fools and madmen,¡± Sid said as gruff and furious as ever. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t suicide, I¡¯d climb the Spire by myself. I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about you two skulg-brained slop-scrubbers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m at least two, no three, times as smart as a skulg,¡± Bert responded his eyes alight in the wild light that told Fritz he wasn¡¯t at all offended. Fritz caught on to his ploy to diffuse the argument with absurdity.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never once scrubbed slop, it¡¯s far below my station,¡± Fritz argued pompously, trying to turn the shouting match into a farce.

    Sid stared at them, glancing between the two as if trying to decide who she was more angry at, it turned out to be Fritz as she wheeled on him growling, ¡°Stop taking stupid, unnecessary risks.¡±

    Fritz felt something from her that wasn¡¯t just anger. Now that they had spent a week or more together he was beginning to be able to read her subtle tells under her gruff exterior. There was care there, a real worry for their safety. He didn¡¯t mean to hurt Sid or Bert for that matter and seeing that he did so left a sour taste in his mouth and a new ache in his chest. Or was that more Sanctum nonsense?

    Deciding to meet Sid¡¯s anger with earnestness, he dropped his act and responded, ¡°Sorry Sid. I¡¯ll do better, no more whims. I honestly didn¡¯t think there was any danger. I mean, how was I to know that you could even do what I did?¡± Fritz ended with a morose sigh.

    Sid¡¯s fury sputtered out, doused like a campfire in a blizzard. She grunted her acceptance of the apology and said, ¡°Right. Don¡¯t, let it happen again. Or else.¡±

    Fritz gave a bittersweet smile to the comment, knowing that the threat was a hollow one, he could feel no malice in her tone or stance. Just worry, fear and fatigue, like himself. Awareness at it again, he supposed. I wonder how potent it will get in the future, how much could I read of someone¡¯s emotions with thirty or more Attributes aligned to Awareness?

    ¡°Ahem,¡± Bert pronounced, pretending to clear his throat and shaking Fritz out of his musings. ¡°Haven¡¯t you forgotten someone to apologise to Pack-brother?¡±

    Rolling his eyes Fritz replied in bored tones, ¡°Sorry, Bert.¡±

    ¡°Sorry for what?¡± Bert jauntily chided as if he were his parent.

    ¡°For playing with eldritch fire,¡± Fritz droned, playing the part of a disinterested child.

    ¡°Good!¡± Bert said slapping him on the back and causing Fritz to wince again.

    Sid shook her head, but seemingly didn¡¯t know what to say to the two of them or was maybe just weary of their nonsense.

    ¡°How bad are you hurt?¡± She asked. ¡°And how long ¡®till we can get moving?¡±

    Fritz attempted to clench his fist again and was met with hot pain and that same numb tingle.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, maybe I should pop back into my Sanctum for a bit and see how it¡¯s holding up?¡± Fritz said.

    Sid and Bert nodded.

    ¡°Might be a while, you guys can finish your delicious dinner,¡± Fritz added.

    They grimaced at the thought of the mealy meat and Fritz dove into his Sanctum riding the cool light down to his centre.

    His feet impacted the muddy yard, and rain poured down, harder than its usual drizzle. It¡¯s to be expected, I am under a lot of pressure. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been as tired, tortured or terrified since my home was taken from me, and that¡¯s now a distant memory that I don¡¯t want to dig up.

    His willow stood taller than ever at almost twenty-four feet tall and shadows slithered subtly under its long swaying branches. Its sapphire blue leaves had darkened and deepened in hue giving the whole tree a more sinister appearance, it wasn¡¯t quite right but it was still beautiful all the same.

    Nothing on fire, that¡¯s a good sign, he told himself. He hissed through clenched teeth as his arm writhed in a riot of agony, far worse than on the outside. He dreaded to see what his limb had become and didn¡¯t want to confirm his suspicions about its condition. But he steeled himself and looked anyway. It was as bad as he thought, if not worse, it more resembled a withered claw of charcoal than a hand. Adamant on testing its limits he attempted to pull it into a fist, it twisted into place snapping and cracking as ash fell from between thin, black fingers.

    It was a new terrible torture. He howled and the rain poured down harder, his willow lashed the air and the light dimmed to twilight. He cut off his yell and wept. Letting the rain wash away his tears and the wind carry away his cries.

    Fritz didn¡¯t know how long he stood there in pain, in anguish, it seemed like minutes but it could have easily been hours. All wasn¡¯t lost, he knew, logically he couldn''t have been the only person to have damaged himself in his Sanctum but he still felt alone in his plight.

    No, none of that! He reprimanded himself. No falling into self-pity. You have Bert. And you have Sid. For now, a bitter part of his mind added.

    He shook away his moment of despair and moved, striding towards the pavilion as a flickering eerie blue-green light leaked from over its walls and out from its arches. Stepping on the sodden floorboards and ignoring the persistent agony in his arm Fritz took stock of the ransacked insides. The furniture was still smashed, books and broken knickknacks littered the floor and in the centre, something horrible burned in the brazier.

    The blue-green flame danced and fought in its brass prison. Fritz felt like it was mocking him, taunting him even as it tried to leap free and reduce the rest of his Sanctum to ash. Fritz sighed in relief, he knew it couldn¡¯t escape unless he let it. Now what does it do?

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    He made to move closer to the intriguing fire but remembered Sid¡¯s warning about unnecessary risks and stopped dead in his tracks. She was right. He didn¡¯t know what he was doing and whatever he did might make it worse. He didn¡¯t want to burn his other hand to, one flame withered arm was enough for him.

    He studied his charred hand and sighed, he didn¡¯t know what to do with that either. Maybe it could heal on its own? Maybe there was a potion that could fix it? Only time could tell. It rankled to lose the use of one hand but he knew it could¡¯ve been worse. What would have happened if everything had been burnt? He pushed that thought away immediately. Turning his mind to how he was going to fight. Well, it wasn''t like he needed his hand for spellcasting; plus most of the fencing he knew was based on only using one arm anyway.

    Might as well see if it altered my ¡®spire sheet¡¯, he thought calling up then reading the silvery glyphs.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 7

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 9

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 12

    Control: 9

    ---------

    Activated 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow¡¯s grace, deliver foes, to night¡¯s embrace.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Twilight Kissed

    Perhaps a boon, perhaps a curse, you¡¯ll find out soon, which is worse.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Nope only the usual unusualness, he observed. With nothing left to ponder or do, he left his Sanctum, thankfully leaving most of the searing pain of his arm behind.

    He surfaced to find Bert reading his Tome of The Arte Pugilist and Sid reading ¡®The Observations¡¯ that she must have taken out from his pack. The thought of her rooting through his things annoyed him but he decided to let it go. No need to anger her and get into another argument.

    Fritz struggled to his feet and cradled his arm gingerly. The pain was distracting and he needed a way to keep it steady and out of the way until it got better. If it got better. Seeing him standing, Sid put the journal away into a pocket on her shirt and under her breastplate and turned to him as he approached. Not getting that back anytime soon, he groused inwardly. Not unless I want to make Bert¡¯s groper jokes true. Which I do not.

    ¡°Sid, I don¡¯t suppose you know how to make a sling?¡± Fritz entreated smoothly. ¡°I would do it myself but alas.¡± He gestured with one hand to his numb hand.

    ¡°Why not ask Bert?¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Yeah, why not ask me to do it?¡± Bert accused mildly, not looking up from his book.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re a Brute who¡¯s as likely to harm as to help with those indiscriminate hammers you call hands,¡± Fritz said casually.

    ¡°True enough, my mighty grip would break your spindly bones and Sid is the expert in slings,¡± Bert agreed genially.

    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s a stupendous slinger, and an accomplished archer,¡± Fritz stated annoyingly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a medic,¡± Sid sighed, looking him over with a blank face.

    Fritz gave Sid his best, most charming smile. She scowled but started searching for some material to make into something resembling a sling, muttering, ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t complain if it¡¯s too tight.¡±

    ¡°I would never,¡± Fritz said with a smirk.

    She ended up fashioning a sling made of some of Fritz¡¯s precious rope and the last of his oilskin. Fritz ended up having to remove his scale shirt to put the cloth contraption on. He yelped as Sid tightened the sling and bound his arm to his chest. With her help, he was able to don the scale armour again, and once it was firmly in place she tied the empty sleeve off so it wouldn¡¯t get in the way. Sid slapped him on the back then the shoulder and he barely winced from the jarring force of the impacts.

    ¡°Hold¡¯s up? Not too much pain?¡± She asked looking over her handiwork and the man subject to it.

    ¡°It¡¯s too tight,¡± Fritz said, adopting a sly smile.

    Sid frowned slightly then stated, ¡°It¡¯s meant to be.¡±

    They stared at each other for a moment then Fritz laughed, ¡°Sorry, just messing with you. Thanks for the help.¡±

    Sid nodded her head then sighed and asked, ¡°When will you be fit to move?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fit now,¡± Fritz said cheerily. ¡°Most of my headache is gone and I¡¯m well slung.¡±

    Sid arched an annoyed eyebrow at his statement but he didn¡¯t elaborate. Fritz just smiled at her blandly then glanced to the Doors on the other side of the room, walking over the them with an exaggerated swagger.

    Finding himself in front of the three Doors carved into the cave''s wall, he searched them as he always did, from left to right.

    The first Door led into a tunnel of spongy blue and purple moss lit with luminous mushrooms, there was an acrid tang drifting from its depths. From within he could hear a clicking and clacking that reminded him of mandibles; like those of the copper beetles on the second floor. He activated Door sense and read what he could from the Door. Bugs. Big bugs the height of a hound, a hive of them, maybe ants, all searching endlessly for more food for their queen.

    Fritz grimaced and turned away, not liking the feeling he got from that floor, striding sideways he moved to the next Door.

    The smooth seamless stone of this rectangle door was of a dark grey almost blue colour, like storm clouds over the sea and just as ominous. Fritz could not smell anything on its still, lukewarm air. He ran his eyes over the smooth stone and ran his Door Sense through it. The fleeting impressions were those of traps and trials. There was also a distinct feeling of being lost and going around and around in circles, never finding the way out.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± Fritz hummed in contemplation. Had they just found a Maze Floor? It would be fortunate if true. Pulling away from the possible Maze he turned to the last and least appealing Door.

    That¡¯s not to say that the last Door wasn¡¯t beautiful, it was. It was a graceful arch of ice, carved with intricate scripture in some ancient tongue of one of the countless, long-forgotten civilisations. A freezing mist floated under its arch obscuring the stairway up. Door Sense told him all he needed to know, it had some sort of time limit. He felt another impression, wandering through the fog feeling its biting chill that drained all the vigour from your limbs and left them leaden and numb.

    After just surviving the previous floor he doubted anyone wanted to go through cold again, not so soon anyway even if he felt the Ice Door led to the shortest and smallest floor. He shivered and near quaked in remembrance of the blizzard¡¯s freezing grasp. No not that one, he thought fervently.

    Stepping away from the Doors and returning to his crew he relayed what he had seen with his Perception and felt from Door Sense.

    ¡°So squash some Bugs or get lost in a Maze?¡± Bert summarised, ignoring the Ice door completely.

    ¡°Yeah seems like it,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Which do you think we should pick?¡±

    ¡°Bugs!¡± Bert eagerly exclaimed at the same time as Sid grunted, ¡°Maze.¡±

    Fritz smirked at them both looking between them slowly as if making up his mind. There were a couple of moments where the two of his crew scowled first at each other and then at him. Waiting a moment longer, smugly holding his vote over their heads he eventually said, ¡°Maze.¡±

    Sid exhaled and smiled in relief while Bert gave him a vulgar hand gesture as his hopes were dashed. Fritz attempted to respond with one of his own but found his arm was trapped in its sling and he winced as he jostled it.

    ¡°Well, pack up let''s get climbing, ten minutes,¡± Sid announced and they moved to comply.

    They were done packing in five; and they stood at the smooth dark grey door, ready to ascend.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure this floor will be a-maze-ing,¡± Bert said with fake enthusiasm, causing Fritz to groan and Sid to huff out an amused breath.

    Fritz led the way up those smooth stone steps; closer to the Precipice; closer to the end; closer to his family; where they waited.

    Just a couple more Floors.

 Chapter 42

    Skulking up the stone stormcloud-hued steps Fritz took his time to stop and listen, making sure he wouldn¡¯t be ambushed as soon as he stepped out of the Stairway again. He heard nothing but his crew¡¯s and his own excited breath and the soft scraping of shoes. He snuck as silently as he could manage, which now that he was paying keen attention to the noise his own boots made wasn¡¯t as silent as he would have liked.

    I¡¯ll have to get some new ones made out of something a little softer than this hard leather, he thought to himself glancing at the flaky and cracking exteriors of his boots. He surfaced into a straight and narrow hallway of that same seamless stone as the steps. It was dark, pitch black, in fact, so he put down his fish blade and took out his amber glowstone from a pouch on the side of his pack. With light to see what he was doing tucked his fish blade through the pack¡¯s top loop, securing it by tightening the handy straps and buckles.

    He held his glowstone before him with his good hand, and let its swirling light fill the rectangular corridor, making the walls look like thick mud that roiled with slithering eels just below its surface. Fritz had a moment of vertigo, he steadied himself against the wall and took a few slow breaths until the spinning subsided. Not as healthy as I thought. Was it the bump on my head or my brush with eldritch fire that¡¯s left me so fragile? Let¡¯s hope I don¡¯t have to fight much in this condition, he told himself as he steadied his feet and began to walk forward, as the way behind him was a dead end.

    In less than ten seconds of walking, he found a crossroad and stopped, searching for any danger or traps. Again, his caution was unrewarded as he saw and heard nothing. He whistled for Bert and Sid to follow and they did, walking to his flanks with slow and steady steps.

    ¡°Which way?¡± Sid whispered as she looked down each of the branching passages.

    ¡°Not sure yet. I felt a bit dizzy for a while there so I thought it¡¯d be best to have you two by my side while I push on my Door Sense,¡± Fritz explained in a low voice.

    Sid grunted in agreement and Bert nodded peeking around one of the corners.

    Fritz extended his Senses, reaching out for the right path forward. The stone felt slippery, shrouded it was like his Abilities were being opposed by the wall¡¯s own inscrutable magics and layout. He received no impressions from his Door Sense but the faint trilling of Trap Sense sounded from the both left and the right passages.

    ¡°No idea where the Stairway is, but left and right paths are trapped,¡± Fritz relayed.

    ¡°So we go forward?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Maybe. What do you think Sid?¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°You¡¯re the scout, Fritz. You decide,¡± Sid replied gruffly.

    ¡°No unnecessary risks,¡± Fritz intoned and led them forward.

    They walked in silence for a couple of minutes until the corridor ended in a flat wall of stormcloud stone.

    ¡°Urgh,¡± Bert said in disgust, ¡°A bloody dead end. I hate this maze.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been in here for less than five minutes and you already hate it?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Bert said unwilling to elaborate.

    Fritz turned and led them back the way they came and took them down the left-hand path making sure to be on the lookout for the trap or traps that were likely in the hallway. He was keeping his eyes on the floor when the trilling of his Trap sense suddenly got more intense, pulling his gaze upward and at the ceiling.

    There carved into the smooth stone was some sort of circular glyph or runic protection. Fritz had seen similar magics placed on chests, jewellery boxes and the like. Compared to some of the elaborate glyphs he had come across in Lord Whisteship¡¯s estate this one looked to be less intricate. He assumed it meant that it was probably meant to be a more basic ward or something of the sort and he pointed it out the trap his crew.

    ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°I have no idea, probably strikes you with a thunderbolt, or summons lightning spirits,¡± Fritz said without thinking.

    Sid grunted in acceptance.

    ¡°Why lightning, Fritz?¡± Bert inquired.

    Why indeed? Fritz thought. He just supposed the glyphs looked like lightning ready to strike.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it sorta look like a thunderbolt waiting to leap from a storm cloud,¡± Fritz hedged while squinting at the circle of runes.

    The other two joined him in his squinting but Bert merely shrugged and smiled blandly, while Sid looked at Fritz with a small amount of worry for his sanity. Which he knew was wasted. He was as sane as anyone, the most sane really. Stifling a self-reassuring chuckle Fritz continued, ¡°Well it doesn¡¯t really matter, I think we can get past if we put our backs to the walls and slide along the edges.¡±

    They did so, easily avoiding the first trap. The next trap was an identical glyph this time etched into the wall at head height meaning they had to duck under it to get past. They could be quite difficult to see in the strange light of their glowstone and impossible in the dark so Fritz leaned on his Trap Sense as heavily as he dared. Fortunately, it seemed his bouts of vertigo and dizziness were behind him, for now.

    Another few minutes and another few glyphs, each at varying positions on the walls ceiling and floors.

    ¡°This is boring,¡± Bert complained. ¡°I have half a mind to trigger one of these things just for something interesting to happen.¡±

    ¡°You have half a mind all the time, Bert,¡± Fritz riposted. ¡°But you¡¯re right this is terribly dull.¡±

    Bert let out an exaggerated sigh and moped onwards, passing by the next trap by deftly ducking under it.

    Sid scoffed, ¡°You two are mad, I¡¯d take boring over danger any day.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but would you take boring over danger every day?¡± Bert posited philosophically.

    She frowned at him, ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Fritz, there¡¯s no adventure in this one. She¡¯s a stay-at-home scholar in the making,¡± Bert said lamenting her future.

    Sid scowled at the prediction.

    ¡°No I¡¯m not,¡± She argued. ¡°What I¡¯m gonna do is climb all the Spires in Rain City and use that Power to hunt down and kill all the scum in the gutters.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Bert said, looking away from her intense glare. ¡°A righteous goal.¡±

    Sid spat.

    ¡°By scum do you mean people like us? Thieves and thugs?¡± Fritz said cautiously.

    ¡°You know who I mean,¡± she stated in a voice so cold she could have borrowed it from the blizzard. ¡°Scum like Steve¡¯s men that stayed behind to hurt Vee, Lynn and Naomi.¡±

    Bert grimaced and Fritz joined him, saying, ¡°Well, if you ever need help with that, I¡¯d lend you a hand. My good hand mind you.¡±

    Bert nodded and added darkly, ¡°My fists can kill monsters of all kinds, I¡¯ll lend them to you as well.¡±

    Sid seemed to mull it over, most of her coldness thawing away and grunting something that might have been an acceptance or maybe just an acknowledgement of their offer. It wasn¡¯t a hard offer to make in Fritz¡¯s mind, not anymore, now that he had some power to protect others. He wouldn¡¯t have to look away ever again, he could now put a stop to any indignities that occurred in front of him. Gone were the days of cowering in the shadows.

    Just imagining himself being some kind of hero to someone lifted his spirits somewhat even if he knew it was no more than a fanciful daydream. What if he was against someone like Jagged Nic or The Nightshark? He didn¡¯t even really know how strong they were yet, and even the thought of finding out made his guts roil and his legs tremble. Just the vertigo, he lied.

    Fritz was still dwelling on his dark imaginings but was able to pick out another trap to his left with only a small effort. Except there was no glyph carved into the wall at all, and the tingling wasn¡¯t the trilling of Trap Sense but instead the tingling of Door Sense, a slight but unmistakable difference in cadence that he had almost missed due to distraction. His heart leapt.

    Now what¡¯s behind this hidden door? A way out? Treasure? Faeries again? Fritz wondered.

    He signalled a stop to his crew and studied the uniformly smooth wall looking for any handles, mechanisms or seams set in the stone. There were no such obvious tells or ways to open the door that he knew was there from his insistent Door Sense. Fritz set down his glowstone then pulled his dagger free from his belt and tapped it on the wall, testing its hardness. To his surprise, the bone blade slipped into the stone as if it weren¡¯t there.

    Feeling no resistance he pushed his dagger deeper, letting his entire hand up to his wrist disappear behind the false wall until it clinked against some kind of metal.

    ¡°Illusory wall?¡± He said, speaking mostly to himself.

    ¡°Looks like it,¡± Bert said while punching his fist through it. ¡°Whoa.¡±

    ¡°If you think this is impressive you should have seen the Faerie Door,¡± Fritz commented in an offhanded fashion. ¡°It was as strange as a cloudless sky. Though I guess we¡¯ve seen a couple of those now that I think on it.¡±

    ¡°I wish I could have met the Faeries,¡± Bert said with a sigh. ¡°Especially the muscular one, she sounded like my type.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insane,¡± Sid said. ¡°If faeries exist and it wasn¡¯t just a trick of the Spire. They¡¯re monstrous and mad. So say all the tales. What¡¯s that rhyme about not getting caught up in a Faerie¡¯s curse?¡± She asked turning to Fritz.

    ¡°When you meet,

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    You may greet,

    do not speak,

    never treat.¡±

    He recited sheepishly, feeling a little ashamed that he had absolutely gone against common wisdom that even a child would have been taught. He guessed it said something of the tragedy and terror they could inflict; that the rhymes and tales had persisted for centuries without contact. But he had been caught between the ocean and the storm, what with Bert bleeding out and being cursed and all.

    ¡°Yeah that one,¡± Sid agreed. ¡°It was a stupid choice.¡±

    ¡°It was that or Bert¡¯s death. I chose how I chose, and I would choose the same again,¡± Fritz said seriously, accidentally allowing anger to heat his words.

    Sid blinked at his quick temper, then she seemed to think through what she had said. Fritz felt some guilt for snapping at her but he wouldn¡¯t stand for being told he was being stupid just for saving his best friend¡¯s life. So he stared at her frowning. She glared back, unwilling to take back her words.

    They¡¯re gazes clashed for what seemed like a minute.

    ¡°Enough.¡± Bert said, ¡°Fritz, I¡¯m very glad you did what you did. But you have to admit it, it was stupid.¡±

    Fritz sighed, letting his anger go and softly stated, ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just have to get used to being stupid then.¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t already? But you¡¯ve had so much practise.¡± Bert said grinning. ¡°Now can we stop arguing and go through the not-real wall? I feel the need to punch.¡±

    Fritz smiled and let the rest of his foolhardy fury go completely. Bert and by extension Sid were right, it was a desperate decision and defending it was just his stubborn pride misleading him. Best to just accept it and move on, like a lot of his mistakes.

    Putting away his dagger and reaching into the illusion he put his hand on what felt like a cool metallic hatch. He pushed it and it didn¡¯t budge. He groped blindly for a moment, then used his Awareness and Door Sense together to guide him to a smooth, cold handle. He pulled it down and it clanked, allowing him to push the hatch open as silently as if its hinges had recently been greased.

    Fritz gestured at his two crew to stay while he scouted ahead and they nodded in agreement. Sid was still frowning at him and Bert was mumbling something about needing a good fist fight. He left them behind, slipping through the illusory wall, through the open hatch and into the hidden hallway.

    He sighed, glad to be out of Sid¡¯s sight for now, ever since the blizzard there had been that slight awkwardness that even Bert¡¯s presence didn¡¯t seem to diminish. No distractions! Stop moping! you¡¯re in a Spire fool act like it! He chided himself.

    He held his glowstone up, peering down the dark depths of the corridor and seeing nothing but more lightless hallway. Some seconds passed and he felt his Door Sense change in pitch and dissipate behind him. Fritz spun to find the illusory wall still there, confused he attempted to put his hand through it and found the once insubstantial stone was now solid.

    ¡°Spire¡¯s Spite!¡± He cursed, tapping the glowstone to it in futility.

    Mist started to flow into the hallway, floating down from tiny holes in the corners between the roof and the walls. A gas trap? Why didn¡¯t my trap sense warn me? Fritz covered his mouth with his arm and searched desperately for a way out. He could go down the corridor slowly filling with fog but felt that was useless, his Trap Sense now warning him that the whole hallway was a danger.

    Guess I¡¯m trapped in this stone prison... or not. He sighed angrily. Why do I always forget about my Abilities, Stone Pit should be one of the first things I think of when there¡¯s stone and dirt.

    Fritz seized upon the power in his centre, pulling on the light of Stone Pit and using it to make a hole, he did need it to be at least as wide as his shoulders so he added that image to his shaping of the spell. It was easier than before he had aligned three more points to Control but it was still difficult to spread the stone even slightly wider while making it a little shallower in the process.

    The stone shifted as his Power took hold of its form, creating a one-foot-deep hole. The wall couldn¡¯t be more than five feet deep so he hit it again with the spell, then again. He was panting but he could now see the hatch¡¯s outline meaning he had gotten at least halfway through.

    It seemed Control didn¡¯t really increase the area covered but instead let him shape its dimensions, taller, shorter, wider, thinner all while keeping to same amount of ¡®space.¡¯ He was sure there was a mathematical term for it, something a climbing tutor would pound into your head, but alas he had been robbed of that, like so many other things.

    He cast Stone Pit again and sat heavily as his legs became too tired to keep him standing. He prepared to cast one more Stone Pit to open the way for his crew but accidentally inhaled some of the mist and felt his head swim. His eyelids began to droop and drowsiness set in. A small nap wouldn¡¯t hurt, he told himself as his shoulders sagged. He began to lie down, to catch a few moments of rest, just a few well-earned minutes, or hours, or days, or years, or centuries of sweet sleep.

    But something was keeping him awake. A thudding and a sizzling. He heard a distant yell that he recognised. Bert! Oh, Bert always wakes me up, his yelling his tossing and turning his incessant pounding on the walls. There was a thump and a crack. Then another thump and crack, then a fist, Bert¡¯s fist, crashed through the stone and a swirling light poured forth from the newly smashed breach.

    Fritz let loose cheering yawn, ¡°Oh hi Bert, give us a hand will you... I¡¯m very, very tired and this mist is probably poison.¡±

    ¡°Fritz, stop lying there and crawl closer. Come on, grab on to me, I¡¯ll pull you out,¡± Bert called through the hole, sticking a hand out for Fritz to grasp.

    Fritz struggled through the fog both in the hallway and in his mind. He crawled forward slowly focusing on Bert¡¯s outstretched hand, and eventually reaching out and clasping it. The grip was tight and he was yanked through the breach bodily. There was a strange force behind Bert¡¯s arm that moved him without pulling his arm out of its socket. It felt somewhat floaty like the world¡¯s weight was suspended for a moment. He closed his eyes and revelled in the lightness.

    It reminded Fritz of when he had been struck by Jagged Nic, save the lingering ache in his ribs from the too-quick-to-see punch. Then the weight was back and something shook Fritz¡¯s muddy mind. He realised someone was slapping him lightly. There was a low low warbling tone that slowly shaped into words.

    ¡°Fritz, wake up.¡±

    More slapping.

    Fritz fluttered his eyes open to gaze upon a frowning Bert and a worried Sid standing behind his golden-haired friend.

    ¡°Did I die?¡± Fritz softly slurred.

    Sid sighed with relief rather than her usual annoyance and Bert grinned wide, saying, ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t believe a trap got him, I thought his Trap Sense would prevent that sort of thing,¡± Sid remarked now that any question of Fritz¡¯s recovery had been settled.

    ¡°Oh, Sid,¡± Fritz crooned dreamily. ¡°Swift, sly, sapphire eye, much like the willow, will reach to the sky. Stoic and strong, blessed and fair-haired. I need more of the warmth, that we briefly shared.¡±

    Bert turned to watch Sid¡¯s reaction, grinning madly with glee.

    Sid seemed stuck for words, caught between amusement and embarrassment. For herself or for Fritz he couldn¡¯t tell. She scowled at Bert¡¯s smug smile and pulled up her scarf, grumbling something Fritz was too dazed to catch. Her earlier question finally broke through his haze. Why did Trap Sense fail? He had asked himself the very same thing. He supposed it was the Spire¡¯s work, using a non-lethal gas and hiding the trap behind Door Sense maybe lessened his Ability''s capacity to catch the trap in time.

    It was also the eighth floor, things got more difficult and dangerous the higher you climbed. Traps, monsters and other dangers could get shrouded from Senses, he knew that from his father¡¯s Spire tales. He just didn¡¯t expect it so soon. Knowing the Spire, he assumed it was a combination of all those misdirections and more, made specifically to spite him or any decent scout.

    After some moments of musing, his vision sharpened and the warbling of sounds ceased. The world became crisp and clear again and his thoughts flowed freely once more.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± Fritz said as everything came into focus. ¡°Sorry, my fellows. I seemed to be trapped in a small delirium there. I didn¡¯t say anything stupid did I?¡±

    ¡°No more than usual,¡± Bert said smirking. ¡°Just a bit of that poet¡¯s soul leaking out.¡±

    Fritz grimaced and groaned thinking back on what he may have said, it was probably a terribly embarrassing poem, or worse; it might have been bad. He knew it was about Sid and his guts coldly clenched.

    He risked a glance at her wool-obscured face, expecting a furious glare, but found her not looking at him at all. She was instead intently focused on the no-longer-hidden hatch with her face both frowning and slightly flushed. Oh so it was just embarrassing then, not infuriating, that¡¯s good at least.

    ¡°I think I can clear the mist with my wind strike and arrows,¡± She stated in a deep gruff tone, muffled slightly by her scarf.

    ¡°Good idea,¡± Bert said still grinning.

    Fritz got woozily to his feet, the world ricking for a moment but then settling into normal, well as normal as his sharp senses allowed.

    ¡°Sorry, about getting caught in that one,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Spire really got me good there, I¡¯ll have to be more careful. Apparently, I can¡¯t just rely on Trap Sense or Door Sense all the time. Well, not until I¡¯ve evolved them a couple of times.¡±

    ¡°No harm, no foul,¡± Bert said.

    Sid nodded, accepting his explanation but still not meeting his eyes. She nocked a conjured arrow, bent her bow and the air around her then loosed it through the hatch. Fritz peeked down the opening and saw the mist it seemed to be sinking to the floor and covering it like a carpet of clouds. The arrow passed though the cloud bank dispersing much of the mist. Unfortunately the mist that Sid had scatted with her wind strike simply fell back to the ground re-coalescing with the thick fog.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Think we''ll just have to cross it, the gas is heavier than the air so as long as we don¡¯t kick too much of it up we¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°And if we do kick it up a lot it¡¯ll just be a well-earned nap,¡± Bert added.

    ¡°If you ever wake up,¡± Sid grumbled.

    ¡°A well-earned nap,¡± Bert repeated.

    Fritz chuckled and Sid¡¯s lips twitched as she almost smiled.

    ¡°Why go down that way?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°It was trapped. It must be trapped for a reason right?¡± Fritz espoused sagely. ¡°Treasure or Stairway. Either way, it¡¯s probably worth the risk. Let¡¯s go one at a time so as not to disturb the sleep mist too much.¡±

    Sid nodded in agreement and Bert said, ¡°I would follow our spy-poet anywhere he led.¡±

    Spirits lifted and pride pricked by Bert¡¯s vote of confidence Fritz set off, climbing through the hatch and moving as gracefully as he could so as not to disturb the knee-high fog too much.

    He was about a minute down the corridor when he felt a familiar tingle, Door Sense pointing straight ahead. ¡°I feel a door ahead, we¡¯re on the right track.¡±

    After about six minutes of progressing down the corridor, he spotted something in his glowstone¡¯s light, an archway cut into the storm-cloud stone and a set of green-marble stairs leading upwards.

    ¡°Stairway!¡± Fritz cried to his crew, receiving a rough cheer from Sid and a whoop from Bert.

    He suppressed his eager desire to move quickly and kept skulking forward, deliberate and alert for any last tricks. It was fortunate that he did as when he was within ten feet of the stairs up he felt the trilling of Trap Sense just where he was about to step. Not good enough Spire, not falling for that one, he thought smirking to himself.

    He couldn¡¯t see it but he assumed there was another glyph obscured beneath the swirling fog and so he shimmied around it, then waited for his crew to come close so he could point out the danger. It was easy going from there, only ten more feet and only a couple more glyphs stood between them and the Stairway. they slipped around, below and above the traps with little difficulty and made it safely to the Stairway.

    They smiled at each other in their moment of triumph and strode up the stairs to claim their Attributes and see what the next floor had in store for them.

 Chapter 43

    Fritz and his crew hurried up the stairs eager for their next Attributes. They entered the green marble of the well room, this one looking remarkably similar to the landing floor¡¯s forest of green-and-blue marbled pillars. Though these green stone columns were thin, more like spiderwebs than trees and the blue within them glowed with a soft light that pulsed in a slow rhythm almost like a heartbeat.

    Obviously, they ignored the fantastic nature of the room and searched for the Well. Spotting the large pool of radiant blue-green liquid they ran to its lip and gulped down the cool water and its enticing promise.

    The power flowed through Fritz, circling in his centre and being changed into his very own light. The painful tingling in his numb hand twinged for a moment then lessened, returning to its dull throbbing. He suspected it hurt less now but wasn¡¯t sure, maybe he was just getting used to it.

    Fritz prepared to drop into his Sanctum, bracing himself for the pain in his arm to intensify again. He sat, took a couple of steadying breaths and plunged down into the cool light.

    The pain in his ruined hand reignited, roaring into new agony as the pins and needles became molten while still stabbing all along his arm¡¯s flesh. Tears welled up, but he was able to control his reaction somewhat and he didn¡¯t scream. The rain battered his willow and the wind screamed for him.

    Dreading to see but needing to know, he looked down at his burnt appendage expecting to still see the withered black branch in place of his arm. What he saw instead didn¡¯t exactly surprise him but it was a welcome, if gruesome, sight. The skin of his arm and some inches beneath were still black like burnt meat, but the cracks between were now filled with a decidedly red flesh that oozed thick dark blood. He could also see raw muscle now and he could painfully move his fingers independently of each other.

    It looks bad. But far more whole than what it was, better blood than ash, he reasoned as his breath hissed through clenched teeth. Seems the Spire¡¯s Power helps heal Sanctum wounds as well.

    When he was done testing and inspecting his scorched flesh he approached then lay a hand on the grey bark of his willow contemplating what to do with his;

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    What do I want? He asked himself. What I want is to be out of my Sanctum and away from the feeling of the charred flesh of my arm.

    Don¡¯t choose hastily, he told himself as he began to sweat from the pain.

    When in doubt, Awareness. Or should it be Endurance again? He began to pant.

    Spread out the points? Never.

    He aligned all three of his Attributes to Awareness. His willow grew taller and its branches stretched further out as if they were hands reaching out to caress and consider all it could touch.

    He left his Sanctum as quick as he could, pulled up into the rain clouds and finding himself sitting by the radiant pool in a cold sweat. His arm was still numb, it still ached but he could now move it easier or would have been able to if it wasn¡¯t still in a sling.

    Fritz debated on what to do, did he feel his hand was up to the task of climbing a steep wall? Maybe. Wielding a weapon? Absolutely not. He sighed in resignation, deciding to keep the sling on for one more floor, just to be safe.

    Done with his deciding he looked to his companions, finding them before the next set of Doors ready to get a move on and anxious to ascend.

    He stood and strode to them, barely wincing and catching their conversation now that he was paying attention.

    ¡°It was boring but at least it was easy,¡± Bert proclaimed.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good thing,¡± Sid replied.

    ¡°Maybe for you Scholar-Sid. But I crave adventure, not strolling around dull and barely trapped hallways,¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know they were very trapped hallways, Bert,¡± Fritz commented cordially. ¡°And each of those glyphs would have burnt you to a crisp.¡± He added rubbing at the scales over his sling.

    ¡°Unlikely, I have Tough Skin,¡± Bert responded dismissively.

    ¡°Somehow, I don¡¯t think lightning cares about tough skin the same way blades or acid do,¡± Fritz riposted.

    ¡°Fritz is right,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Ahhh, music to my ears,¡± Fritz said pretending to shiver in ecstasy.

    Sid scowled at him then continued, ¡°Despite how he is. Fritz did actually save us a lot of trouble. His Trap Sense alone has probably saved our lives more than once, not to mention his Door Sense.¡±

    ¡°Wow, that was almost a compliment Sid,¡± Fritz ribbed. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m still dreaming.¡±

    ¡°You are dreaming. That was just an observation,¡± Sid stated trying to be serious, but a smile was starting to creep up one side of her lips.

    ¡°Ah, putting my Technique book to good use are we,¡± Fritz said possessively.

    She did smile at these words, saying, ¡°Oldest law.¡±

    Fritz attempted to look affronted but her smile stopped him dead. He smiled back, and asked, ¡°When can I expect my book back?¡±

    ¡°I dunno, once I got it memorised?¡± She hedged.

    ¡°Why do you want to memorise such a dry text?¡± Fritz said intrigued, he knew why he wanted it as he suspected it still had several secrets stored in its stilted script. But didn¡¯t know why Sid could possibly want to memorise it.

    ¡°I want to be able to teach it,¡± She admitted.

    ¡°To who?¡± Bert blurted.

    ¡°To whom,¡± Fritz corrected.

    Bert frowned but Sid continued, ¡°To whoever I want.¡±

    ¡°To whomever you want,¡± Bert said copying Fritz¡¯s slightly aristocratic accent.

    It was Fritz¡¯s turn to frown, and he did so, with gusto.

    ¡°I want to be able to help the other orphans and gutter rats that need it. Get them prepared for when and if the same thing that happened to us happens to them,¡± Sid explained ignoring their bickering. ¡°Give ¡®em more of a chance to, you know, survive,¡± She ended morosely.

    ¡°Another righteous goal,¡± Bert intoned solemnly. ¡°Fritz, have we accidentally fallen in with a hero?¡± He asked offhandedly.

    ¡°I believe so my pack-brother,¡± Fritz said stoically. ¡°Shall we do our best to aid her in her quests?¡±

    ¡°Anything for a pack-sister,¡± Bert proclaimed. ¡°I shall be her Brute boon companion.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re the boon companion and Sid is the hero then what does that make me,¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°The princess,¡± Sid and Bert said together, almost as if they had planned it.

    ¡°Locked away in a tower, pledged to marry a callous cad,¡± Bert said expanding the tale.

    Fritz scowled, ¡°I¡¯m not the Princess maybe I¡¯m the squire or loyal hound or... something else,¡±

    ¡°No, no. Definitely the Princess,¡± Bert re-stated.

    ¡°You are the only one that¡¯s noble born, Fritz,¡± Sid added, taking Bert¡¯s side her smirk joining his grin.

    ¡°Sid the hero will climb the tower, fight off your fiance and kill your cruel father. Then sweep you away to a life of adventure, like you always dreamed,¡± Bert espoused.

    Fritz put on a scowl and Sid said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d kill the King. Also I¡¯m not too keen on taking a spoiled princess away with me.¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s how it has to be. The hero has to kill the Princess¡¯s father, that''s how all the tales go,¡± Bert said emphatically.

    ¡°I¡¯m not spoiled, I¡¯m just as tough as the both of you,¡± Fritz argued taking small issue with his portrayal in this impromptu story.

    They both gave him a pitying look and Fritz haughtily harrumphed, turning his face away dramatically and striding towards the Doors. He didn¡¯t actually consider himself particularly rough or resilient, so their playful derision didn¡¯t bother him at all, but he thought he¡¯d show them how a real noble would act.

    They laughed at his display, and he smiled inwardly. It was a much better mood than the last floor and he embraced the absurdity, letting out a displeased exhalation, ¡°Hmph, peasants!¡±

    Leaving the giggling idiots behind Fritz approached the three Doors to the ninth floor, both giddy with excitement and dreading the new horrors he might discover.

    The Door on the left was a circle of tangled, pale roots that enclosed a sideways pool of muddy water. The surface of swampy liquid didn¡¯t leak from the entrance but bubbled occasionally, it was like there was a flexible pane of glass between him and the water. Already disgusted by the floor beyond but intent on being thorough with his scouting; he listened to what his door sense was telling him; Large lizards, poisonous flowers and fist-sized buzzing¡­ mosquitoes. Nope. He decided immediately.

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    Fritz scowled at the Door and turned back to his fellows, motioning at it and saying, ¡°Swamp door. Mosquitoes this big.¡± He clenched his good hand into a fist and gestured to it with a sideways nod.

    Both Sid and Bert¡¯s smiles slipped and they shook their heads vigorously. ¡°Nope,¡± they said in unison. He was glad they agreed with him.

    Crossing to the next Door Fritz looked it over. Another circular hole, this time of a terracotta-coloured stone, rough and unshaped. The draft from the dark natural tunnel was neither cool nor warm but held a scent that once endured could not be forgotten. Goblins. He reached out with his Door Sense confirming his guess and providing even more knowledge of his foes. These goblins were not innumerable but there were a lot, there also seemed to be more of the more powerful warrior goblins and even a handful of shamans. He got the impression of a camp or some kind of ramshackle fort within the caves.

    Fritz wondered at why he was getting so much more information from this Door. Was it because he had fought goblins before in this Spire? Was it his new Awareness of fifteen? Was it perhaps his experience with other of faerie-kind? He couldn¡¯t say but wondering about it wasn¡¯t getting him anywhere useful, he decided to just be thankful he got so much to work with.

    Turning to the last Door, one made of a flowing, mirror-sheen silver and gazing upon its splendour, Fritz searched it for anything of use. Air flowed out of the arch cool and clear, it smelled of clean steel and carried strange notes of distant music. The stairs beyond the opening where of smooth and polished grey stone. Fritz felt with his senses, probing for danger and got the impression of a sprawling estate with quick puddles of shimmering, metallic liquid that slithered over and between the seams of the smooth brick of its stone floor. He didn¡¯t know exactly what was dangerous about these ¡®quicksilver slimes¡¯ but the impressions he gathered left him certain that they were.

    Fritz stepped back and summarised to his crew, ¡°A goblin fort, more warriors and shamans, probably better organised hence the whole fort thing. Or some sort of mansion with strange metallic slimes patrolling it, oh and there¡¯s faint music.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, a difficult choice between two Doors,¡± Bert said as they all pointedly ignored the swamp Door even as it let out a loud gurgle.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Fritz agreed.

    ¡°The monsters we know or the ones we don¡¯t,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°When you put it like that there¡¯s not much of a choice. We have no idea what the slimes will do or what can hurt them. Might as well get some revenge on goblins,¡± Fritz said.

    Sid nodded and Bert shrugged then added, ¡°As long as I get to punch things.¡±

    ¡°Plenty to punch, my good man, plenty to punch,¡± Fritz said easily.

    ¡°We ready then?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Fritz and Bert chorused.

    With Fritz leading the way they ascended the middle tunnel and into the dark.

    Fritz suspected that in the low light his Perception would help him see better, it wasn¡¯t the case for these lightless caves though. Far too dark to see anything, when am I going to get Night Vision or something? He stopped in his tracks and felt Sid and Bert bump into him from behind as he pulled out his glowstone.

    He turned to frown at and admonish them when he heard a shout from ahead. He whirled back to face the sound, spotting a group of six grey-skinned goblins gesturing at him with crude short swords of jagged clear crystal. They wore stitched-together armour of some kind of grey hide or leather and held domed shields of a pitted wood-like substance that reminded him of the cap of a mushroom. They seemed to have been marching in a formation that broke immediately as the goblins saw, then charged, at Fritz. The monsters were only twenty feet away so he knew they would be upon his crew in moments.

    The tunnel was large enough that they could stand ten people across, but having only three they had to be wary of being surrounded by the rapidly rushing goblins. Bert ran out from behind Fritz and sprayed out his acid, Sid was already nocking an arrow and preparing to loose it into the closest goblin. The two creatures hit by Bert¡¯s jet of caustic liquid let out high-pitched wails of agony and dropped what they were holding. The acid splattered unfortunates wiped at their blistering flesh and peeled away their melting skin.

    It was a terrible sight.

    Pulling his eyes away from the horror of Caustic Spray, Fritz did what he could. He threw his glowstone straight into a goblin''s face, it cracked against its skull and broke its prominent nose causing it to squeal in pain and rage. He drew his dagger from his belt when an arrow soared past him and drilled through a goblin¡¯s shield, then its torso and hitting another of the grey-skinned monsters behind it.

    He called upon his Stone pit, stretching it to be as narrow and as deep as possible, and shifted the ground beneath an advancing foe. The goblin stepped into the hole and tripped, nearly impaling itself in its own crystal blade. Another warrior stepped over its fallen brethren and closed the distance quickly. Fritz stepped into its charge, easily slipping past its crude stab and trusting forward with his dagger. The curved bone met the creature''s shield with a jarring clack and the monster giggled in delight as it slashed towards Fritz¡¯s neck with its sharp crystal.

    He pulled back on his dagger and kicked the shield hard, driving the goblin back and forcing its strike to miss his throat, instead, it glanced harmlessly off his scaled shirt. The creature stabbed forward again, but this time Fritz wreathed his bone blade in Gloom Strike¡¯s shadowy power and dodged to the side letting the goblins sword stab empty air. He stepped into the creature''s reach and thrust forward his dagger''s point. He drove the black-roiled blade deep under its exposed ribs and must have hit something vital as the goblin twitched and jerked and slumped lifelessly over his arm as dark green blood ran down from its side.

    He threw the dead weight off him and planted a foot onto the back of the still-fallen goblin he had tripped. Deftly Fritz ducked down and ran his dagger¡¯s sharp edge across its neck. It gurgled and spat, it didn¡¯t die as quick as the other goblin but it still died quickly.

    Quiet fell and Fritz searched his surroundings, finding that Bert had easily caved in the heads of the two goblins he had been fighting and Sid¡¯s one arrow had dispatched the other two. She was standing there, bow in hand and seemingly alert for reinforcements. None came. Minutes passed and they heard nothing, then they relaxed and in Fritz''s case reflected on the skirmish.

    It had been...easy. The goblins barely stood a chance, it was nothing like the second floor. These were warriors and much better equipped than last time. But they had seemed... slower, weaker and not nearly as threatening as before. The only thing about the goblins that still scared Fritz was the stench and stain of their reeking blood.

    ¡°That¡¯s it? That wasn¡¯t even a fight,¡± Bert said, echoing Fritz¡¯s own thoughts.

    ¡°We are Pathers now,¡± Sid reminded them. ¡°Bound to be much stronger than before.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect the difference to be so... stark,¡± Fritz said. ¡°I even had one hand tied.¡±

    Sid shrugged, ¡°Not to be a drowner, but there are probably hundreds of these things, that¡¯ll be the real challenge.¡±

    Bert lit up at the comment, grinning wide and blurting out, ¡°We better go find them then.¡±

    Fritz smiled at his infectious enthusiasm and retrieved his amber glowstone, noticing its light had dulled somewhat.

    ¡°Does this look less bright to you?¡± Fritz said, presenting the stone in all its swirling luminescence.

    Sid frowned and pulled her own amber stone free, comparing them. They both seemed to cast the same amount of light, which Fritz felt was softer than before but couldn¡¯t be certain.

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Sid hedged.

    ¡°Maybe the magic¡¯s running out?¡± Bert suggested, unusually usefully.

    Fritz went to slap his forehead but instead hit himself with the stone still in his hand, exclaiming, ¡°Of course! Ouch!¡±

    Sid giggled then snorted out a laugh.

    ¡°It¡¯s not funny, I almost brained myself with this slowly dwindling stone,¡± Fritz said but was not at all hurt by his blunder.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve been in real danger if you had any brains left,¡± Bert guffawed.

    Fritz grumbled but gave them a reassuring smile that he hoped conveyed that he was alright.

    ¡°Well, I better scout ahead,¡± Fritz said after the laughter had subsided.

    ¡°Should we follow or stay?¡± Sid asked, smiling at him in a way that warmed him like the sun¡¯s rays.

    ¡°Stay,¡± Fritz said, unslinging his pack and weighing whether he should take his fish blade along.

    He decided to leave it for now, with only one good hand it would just get in the way. He waved a farewell to his crew and stalked into the darkness.

    He travelled down the winding tunnels, letting his Door Sense guide him wherever he had a choice of passages. His Ability always seemed to lead him to the left, until he came across a soft blue light emanating from from an opening ahead. He put his own swirling stone away into his pocket and advanced stealthily. He stopped as he heard high-pitched, guttural speech echo towards him from the direction of the light.

    Warily he snuck to the wall and followed along it, keeping out of sight until he could peer into the room beyond. Crystals, like those the goblins wielded but filled with a blue-white radiance jutted from the cave walls and ceiling. The pale light sparkled off the armour of the biggest goblin Fritz had ever seen. The near-human-height, overly-muscled, pale-skinned goblin was clad in glittering plates of irregularly faceted blue-tinted crystal.

    Some sort of Warlord, Chief or King? It cant be a King as it has no crown, lets go with Chief,  Fritz decided.

    Around the Chief a horde of ragged goblins busied themselves with wheelbarrows full of crystal and picks with heads of stone and handles that strange porous wood. It was some sort of mining operation Fritz realised as the skinniest, weakest goblins scurried about under the watchful, cruel gazes of the larger warriors who numbered in the dozens.

    With a thwack a whipcord-muscled warrior goblin wearing a full set of polished, porous wooden armour held together with leather straps, hit one of the ragged goblins with a baton of shining crystal. There was a strange thumping echo as the baton connected to the miner¡¯s bony spine and the creature growled in pain as it fell to the ground and twitched helplessly. The baton wielder giggled as did the others who shared its equipment and size.

    These seemed to Fritz to be some sort of slave drivers or captains and the sight of their bland, almost off-handed maliciousness made rage boil in Fritz¡¯s gut. Even if they were horrible, stinking goblins that would slit his own throat without thinking thrice, he had a certain hatred of the strong who tormented the weak.

    He looked around for any shamans but couldn¡¯t see any covered in their strange, dangling charms or fetishes.

    The goblin in crystal bellowed an order causing all the grey-skinned monsters to stiffen then move quicker and finish whatever tasks they had yet to complete. It seemed they were getting ready to move out and Fritz got ready to follow.

    The Chief finally turned its face in Fritz¡¯s direction, displaying a triangular scar that enclosed one of its pitch-black eyes. The pinpricks of blue-green light that may have served as pupils, were far larger in this creature''s stern gaze and more akin to candle flames than twinkling stars. It scanned the room slowly, observing the scurrying of its retinue, its eyes glided by where Fritz hid then snapped back as if it saw something out of place.

    Fritz¡¯s heart jumped in his chest and he wanted to flee, but he held himself still. Slinking back slightly and pushing himself as close to the wall as he could, he waited and watched as the goblin stared intensely. Oh, gods I hope it didn¡¯t see me. I really need a stealth Ability. Why didn¡¯t I pick Subtle Presence? Damn my foolish pride, he admonished himself silently; waiting, praying for the Chief to look away.

    The goblin growled out a single syllable. One he somehow knew meant slave. Then it spoke again this time with a ripple of Power echoing its deep tone. Stay. A golden ring adorned with dark purple gems on a long, pale finger that resembled bleached bone, emitted a subtle grey glow.

    Fritz knew he was caught, but couldn¡¯t run as he felt the words wash over him, freezing his legs and stiffening his joints. His chest seemed to seize and he clenched his fists tight. He could still move even if his body fought him the whole way and his mind wanted to obey the voice. Struggling against the compulsion, he ever so slowly reached and took hold of the hilt of his bone dagger looped on his belt with his shaking hand and trembling fingers. Dread poured through him as he realised that there would be no escape and no heroic last stand.

    The best he could do was take a few with him before he perished and the worst he could do was die.

 Chapter 44

    Fritz¡¯s grip on his dagger shook but he was still ready to spring forward and stab anything that came near the shadowy entrance where he skulked.

    The goblin Chief took a ring-encrusted hand off the hilt of its jagged, brightly-glowing crystal sword that hung at its side and its flaming eyes darted past Fritz¡¯s hiding place. It pointed a pale, bony finger at a boulder to his left and growled out an order. An armoured goblin leapt to obey, sprinting to the boulder, checking behind the stone and pulling a trembling, emaciated goblin out from a dark hole where it had cowered and hid.

    Much like Fritz the skinny creature couldn¡¯t seem to move its body, the power of the chief¡¯s empowered word was binding it like rope. Unlike himself though the creature couldn¡¯t resist at all as it was dragged before the crystal-clad goblin, shaking the whole while. The Chief looked down on its piteous kin and with a lazy, shrug-like movement swung its radiant crystal blade. It hissed through the air and severed the ragged goblin''s neck easily, its flesh and bone offering no resistance to its gleaming edge. The head rolled away and the body went limp, green blood spurted forth and pooled around its no longer struggling, stick-thin corpse.

    The warriors and captain goblins giggled and hooted and the slave goblins looked on quaking.

    Fear receded from Fritz as he realised he hadn¡¯t been spotted at all, just a lucky coincidence it seemed, but he¡¯d have to be wary of the Chief. It seemed to have much sharper senses than its kin and powerful Treasures to boot. How did that command effect me? It must have been something with mind or sound aligned magic, Fritz theorised. Rare and incredibly useful. It¡¯s probably that ring that shimmered. I have to have it. The crystal sword wouldn¡¯t be too bad either. Not that I¡¯d abandon my fish blade, he amended.

    As Fritz was mulling over his suspicions the goblins had gathered and were ready to move out. With a bark from the Chief, they started marching through an exit to his right. They filed out with their crystal bounty, leaving the headless goblin behind without a second glance. This left Fritz with a choice, follow or flee.

    His sensible side whispered to him that he should go back and get his crew but his curious, impatient side proclaimed he should pursue. He decided on a compromise, he would follow them to see if the goblin troop left any tracks then re-assess. Fritz scanned the room, making sure there were no stragglers or other hiding slaves. Nothing moved nor made a sound. So quickly he skulked into the cavern and to the hole the goblins left through.

    He decided to pursue without holding his glowstone before him, relying on Trap Sense and Awareness to sneak over the uneven stone without noise. He reached and snuck through the exit, following the glow of the mined crystals as it retreated down the tunnel.

    While leaning on his Awareness to keep his feet steady and quiet on the stone he nearly bumped into three goblins that were acting as something of a rear guard. There was a scuffling sound and Fritz bit down his tongue to stop himself from cursing and giving himself away.

    One of the hide-armoured goblins had nudged the one next to it hard, causing it to stagger into the last of their half-squad. Or maybe there were more he couldn¡¯t see in hiding. He had only detected them because their discipline was sloppy and they were completely sure of their superiority and safety in their own territory. They were right to be as it seemed they could see in the dark and he couldn¡¯t.

    But maybe the others of their squad were up ahead? Or maybe they were better soldiers and stood waiting in silence? The instigating goblin giggled at its mischief while the others hissed in displeasure. Fritz deduced that it was probably only these three left behind. If there was a captain with them he had the feeling it would use any excuse to use its bright baton on its lessers and cruelly at that.

    Damn, these things are far more organised that the second floor. It¡¯ll be harder to pick them off group by group like we did on the second floor, he reflected. Harder but not impossible.

    He gripped the smooth hilt of his bone dagger drawing it out and stretching his senses to the limit, trying to pinpoint the positions of the rear guard. They lurked there in the dark, only occasionally ¡®talking¡¯ or scraping their hide armour and ¡®wooden¡¯ shields against the stone of the walls, boulders and covered alcoves in which they were hidden.

    Time was slipping away as was the soft light of the wooden wheelbarrows full of crystals. So when Fritz thought he had their general locations known well enough; he acted. Pulling out his glowstone, he threw it over and past the goblin''s heads. It landed with a clack and skittered to a stop in a small depression in the terracotta stone, casting its swirling yellow glow across the startled goblins.

    They stared at the stone for a moment, entirely too distracted to hear Fritz sneak up on the closest one. It stood there in an alcove, startled but alert as it pulled its shield up to guard its side and took out its clear crystal short sword from its loop, struggling with it for only a moment.

    A moment was all Fritz needed, his dagger was already wrapped in the roiling shadows of Gloom Strike and thrusting into the goblin''s unprotected neck. The blade plunged in easily, and Fritz yanked it free cutting outward through the monster¡¯s grey throat. I didn''t have time to gurgle out a warming before Fritz was sprinting at the next goblin.

    Embracing a reckless abandon and an urge from the Arte Pugilist Technique; Fritz leapt into a flying knee, catching the now spinning creature on its shield and bearing it to the ground, arms splayed. This goblin didn¡¯t fare much better than the last one, it tried to get its shield up to cover its body but darkness engulfed Fritz¡¯s bone blade as it drove into its chest, puncturing the hide and the soft flesh beneath easily. The monster twitched, struggled and died as he stabbed it over and over.

    The last goblin giggled and three more, well-hidden grey-skinned warriors, skulked out from the dark. They joined the giggling and made to surround their prey.

    ¡°Spire¡¯s spite,¡± Fritz cursed.

    Four goblins left, all warriors, I¡¯ve used two Gloom Strikes so that leaves me with two more spells before I¡¯m spent, better make them count, he strategised. They weren¡¯t unbeatable but it definitely wasn¡¯t ideal to be outnumbered. Let¡¯s hope Illusory Shadow works through their dark sight, it¡¯s not real shadow after all.

    Fritz shaped the darkness as it slinked from his centre, stretching it into a thin curtain of black of around his height and three times his shoulders breadth just behind his back. The goblins growled in what he hoped was alarm and he stepped backward through the illusion. The spark-like eyes of the monster opposite of him swung here and there, searching for him through the haze that Fritz could only just see through like a grimy window.

    They can''t see through it! He thought giddily. Fritz smiled a terrible smile and got to work dispatching the foul goblins.

    Though he was tired from his previous casts he was used to the feeling of being drained of stamina and moved without missing a beat. He stepped to the right to meet one of the flankers, feinting with his dagger and making the goblin pull its shield up to guard its neck he kicked the goblin¡¯s knobbly knee. With a snap and a pop, the flanker fell to the stone and Fritz heard footsteps slapping from behind. He spun to face a goblin charging him and stabbing forward with its primitive crystal sword, he angled himself so the creature''s blade slipped past his cheek and over his shoulder. Using its outstretched arm as leverage he then heaved the goblin off its feet with a throw he had learnt from the Arte Pugilist, flipping it over him bodily and slamming it to the ground with a hard thump.

    While it lay reeling Fritz plunged his dagger down into its neck, spilling its dark blood onto the stone. Again there were footsteps from behind but he was too slow to move and was hit on the shoulder by something that tore at his scale shirt and the skin below. He moved with the blow as well as he could and rolled through his curtain of shadow to escape a follow-up strike from a goblin that had just rushed in front of him and was swinging at his head with abandon.

    Getting to his feet, he saw the two last goblins hesitate to go through the illusion so he took a moment to breathe. The two decided to go around the sheet of darkness, again on opposite sides to flank him. Fritz wrapped his bone blade in Gloom Strike¡¯s numbing black and waited for the goblin coming from the right. The hide-clad warrior was cautious, but it wasn¡¯t quick or perceptive enough to block the hard-to-track attack as it slashed over its raised shield and into the side of its throat, severing its now rhythmically spurting veins.

    Fritz stepped, almost staggering from the Stamina drain, through the illusion again, causing the other goblin to squeal in anger, then fear as it saw that it was the last of its fellows face down on the stone leaking out its life. It turned to run, crystal clattered as its sword was thrown to the ground along with the thunk of its abandoned shield. The monster sped away and Fritz had no hope to catch it in its mad dash. However, Fritz had his last trick up his sleeve.

    Aiming precisely as he could in the darkness of the tunnel Fritz threw his bone dagger at its back, it tumbled end over end through the air with an odd wailing note. It stuck in the back of the creature¡¯s thigh just above the knee and it fell forward, slamming its face hard into the cave floor. It lay the groaning for a moment, then made to stand its long hands scrabbling at the stone. Unfortunately for the goblin, Fritz was there before it could fully get to its feet and he yanked his blade from its flesh then slit its throat from behind. He let the creature fall gurgling as its reeking blood flowed out.

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    Fritz turned tiredly, knowing he had one last crippled goblin to deal with. He scanned the area but saw nothing; he listened, hoping to hear the hobbled creature. Fritz¡¯s legs wobbled from exertion and fatigue from using four Abilities, but with some effort he stayed standing. He heard a muffled panting that was not his own much heavier breath, over in a dark alcove. He sighed, he knew what had to be done, that he had to end the goblin¡¯s life, but it still felt a little bit like bullying to him.

    He staggered towards the alcove and the goblin''s panting redoubled, probably in terror as Fritz stalked closer. He loomed over the grey-skinned warrior as it cradled its broken knee, it attempted to fend him off with its sword but Fritz merely let it fall on his scale shirt harmlessly and drove his long bone dagger through its hide armour and into its heart. It stopped struggling in moments and Fritz let out a weary exhalation and stepped away.

    He desperately wanted to find his own alcove to rest in for a while but couldn¡¯t risk losing the crystal mining convoy. So he turned around, staggering slightly, and followed the dwindling light, leaving the goblin corpses behind for whatever else lurked in the dark of the cave.

    It was difficult going in the dark and over uneven stone but Fritz managed it all the same as his fatigue receded slowly. There were likely no more rear guards but Fritz was still cautious, never actually setting sight on his prey, and instead just letting himself be guided by the glow of crystal, the slapping of feet, grinding of wheels and the giggling, always the grating giggling.

    It went on like this for almost an hour of traversing the caves, thankfully there weren¡¯t many forks or crossroads in the tunnels so Fritz wasn¡¯t much worried about getting lost. His stalking stopped when he noticed the light remained luminous for some time, he risked a peek from the corner of the cave where he was hiding. Down the tunnel and to the left was a vast entrance to an even vaster cavern from which blinding blue-white light spilled out. It was too bright for his eyes for a moment but they soon adjusted to the new intensity and he found the light as clear as any cloudy day.

    His Door Sense¡¯s tingle had been intensifying these past couple of minutes and was definitely pointing him to this entrance, he knew he was near the Stairway. He debated whether to get closer and wondered what else could be within the cavern. He wanted to sate his curiosity but felt he had already pushed so far ahead of what he¡¯d expected to find; plus it had been quite a lot of time in the dark and his crew were probably worried about him. Well, Bert would be at least and he hoped Sid would be. She would be, he reassured himself.

    Hesitantly but resolutely he squashed his adventurous streak and turned to reunite with his crew, leaving behind the intriguing light and the possibly glorious cavern beyond. Pulling free his glowstone he traced his previous path back through the dark tunnels.

    His Memory served him well and he was back before the untouched and stinking goblin corpses of his previous fight. Now that he was a little recovered he marvelled at the sight. Six goblins, all warriors, all armed and now all dead. By his hand alone. Or was it by his alone hand? He chuckled to himself and felt proud of his new fighting prowess and burgeoning Power. Just a few days ago one of these warriors almost killed me, I had to beat it through trickery. Now, I just fought and slew six of them. Sure, I still used some trickery but as the words go ¡®all¡¯s fair.¡¯ What a difference a Path and a couple of Abilities can make. A great one to be sure.

    Fritz wondered at his new strength but still hungered for more. I will also get a new Ability once this floor is done, I can¡¯t wait. Then one last floor and I¡¯ll be out and free. A smug smile stretched over his face and he had to stop himself from whistling a jaunty tune as he mused on all the small revenges and petty payback he could enact once he was out of the Spire and gallantly roaming the wet streets of the Sunken Ring.

    Making his way back to his crew wasn¡¯t particularly difficult, he only made a wrong turn and met a dead end once and he met no further dangers. When Sid spotted his glowstone she waved him forward emphatically as the light danced hypnotically on her breastplate.

    ¡°What took you so long?¡± She hissed as he got within earshot.

    ¡°Trouble?¡± Bert asked as his eyes glanced over the tears in his scale shirt.

    ¡°Just a little group of goblins,¡± Fritz explained humbly, trying to hide the smugness in his tone and failing. ¡°Well, actually it was a large group and they were mining the crystals. There was what you might describe as a chieftain in crystal armour who possessed some sort of Treasure with an entourage of captains with a retinue of warriors and at least a hundred slave goblins.¡± Fritz summarised.

    ¡°Captains?¡± Sid said inquisitively.

    ¡°A Chief?¡± Bert asked eagerly.

    Fritz relayed all he could about the goblin¡¯s varying equipment and probable roles, and when his crew¡¯s questions were answered he proposed they go find out what the goblin encampment looked like.

    ¡°Are you sure the Stairway is there?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°As sure as the rain,¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going, we¡¯ve got some goblins to punch,¡± Bert said excitedly, swinging his arm in a circle as if warming it up.

    Without another word Fritz nodded and led back the way he came, navigating the cave and the dark easily with sure steps.

    Again they came across the dead goblin rear guard, and upon seeing their reeking remains Sid asked, ¡°Did you see what killed these guys?¡±

    Fritz tried to keep the smirk off his face but an arrogant self-satisfaction coated his voice as he responded, ¡°Yes, I did see what killed these warrior goblins. It was a terrible creature, it was like a shadow darting out from the dark and piercing its prey with utmost prowess. An entity so cunning, so handsome-¡±

    ¡°It was you, Fritz? I bet you just stabbed them when they weren¡¯t looking,¡± Bert interrupted, ruining Fritz¡¯s reveal and wiping away the look of interest that had been painted on Sid¡¯s face.

    Sid looked at Bert seriously, ¡°I count six, that¡¯s still quite the feat.¡±

    Bert shrugged. ¡°I guess we were right about Gloom Strike. Is that so, Fritz?¡± He said turning his infuriating grin on his annoyed friend.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Fritz hedged.

    ¡°Still think the curse would¡¯ve been better?¡± Bert asked condescendingly.

    Fritz swallowed his pride and did what he hated to do most; admit he was wrong. ¡°Yes. Yes, you two were right, Gloom Strike has been far more useful than the curse would¡¯ve been. Happy now?¡±

    ¡°I am content,¡± Bert said magnanimously.

    ¡°Glad you¡¯ve seen sense, Fritz,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°I¡¯ve actually seen two Senses, and I chose them both, thank you very much,¡± Fritz replied haughtily.

    Sid smiled at the bad joke and Bert clapped him on the back.

    ¡°Six goblins is a pretty good count for a Fritz, but I bet I could kill...sixty, no six hundred goblins, all by myself,¡± Bert boasted.

    ¡°With your breath alone; I don¡¯t doubt it,¡± Fritz retorted easily.

    Sid laughed at their banter and Fritz looked at the corpses now realising that in his rush he hadn¡¯t bothered to check the goblins for anything of use. He veered over to kneel by one of the bodies and looked it over, and patted it down, searching for pouches or pockets that may have had some valuables, or whatever goblins considered valuable. Unfortunately, they seemed to have nothing but their hide armour, shields and crystal swords. He compared the goblin sword¡¯s jagged edge to his fish blade¡¯s and found it wanting. He moved to the next corpse, just in case.

    ¡°Find anything good Fritz?¡± Sid asked as he finished up with the third such body search.

    ¡°Groped ¡®em enough Fritz?¡± Bert added, grinning.

    Fritz sighed. ¡°No, nothing of value,¡± he said, not even deigning to acknowledge Bert¡¯s mockery.

    Sid grunted.

    Fritz stood quickly and got back to leading the way through the tunnels.

    Minutes later Fritz heard a crack and a fist-sized stone plummeted down from the cave roof, he stepped out of the way and let it shatter on the floor. A faint light glowed from where the rock had fallen from, then slowly a spike of glowing crystal shuddered out of the stone ceiling. Smaller crystals speared out around its base and the centre spike stopped expanding at about the length of his forearm.

    ¡°Huh, growing crystals,¡± Fritz commented. ¡°Pretty.¡±

    Sid and Bert didn¡¯t seem all that impressed by the sight and shrugged.

    Fritz shook his head, sighing out his annoyance at their complete lack of wonder. ¡°Peasants, uncultured skulg-suckers,¡± he mumbled as he kept leading the way forward.

    After another half an hour of slinking through the dark, they came across another squad of six goblins and dispatched them without trouble.

    ¡°Too easy, should¡¯ve let me handle them on my own,¡± Bert commented.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Sid agreed while slinging her bow over her shoulder.

    ¡°No, we¡¯ll need you as fresh as possible, Bert. There are still hundreds of goblins to slay,¡± Fritz said.

    Bert grinned at the reminder, and said ¡°What are we waiting for, stop groping and let¡¯s get going.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even- no never mind, let¡¯s go,¡± Fritz said, letting his annoyance go and striding away.

    They eventually reached the large, bright entrance, and approached cautiously keeping an eye out for more goblin scout parties.

    Standing against the stone wall, they crept to the side of the stone arch then peered through.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± Bert intoned.

    ¡°Whoa, indeed.¡±

 Chapter 45

    Beyond the stone entrance there was a shallow basin in an enormous cavern, the outlying stony lands were covered in fields of pale mushrooms the size of small trees obscuring the basin''s floor.

    Fritz could see there were a scattering of shanty towns where goblins slept, cooked or ate, overseen by captains and their warrior squads. Further in there was a circular wooden wall, six feet tall, set with pillars and spikes of crystal patrolled by warriors who oversaw the scrabbling masses of ragged workers as they moved like minnows through the great gate of the fort.

    In the very centre of the fort was an unfinished radiant tower of crystal currently under construction by the hordes of workers carrying their blue-white glowing burdens and primitive stone tools. The entire cavern was lit by the bright light of the glowing tower. It stood at least fifty feet tall gleaming coldly and watching over the glittering walls and the mushroom fields.

    ¡°Walls and a Spire. Why are they building a Spire?¡± Sid said mostly to herself.

    ¡°And where¡¯d they get the wood?¡± Bert asked

    ¡°It¡¯s not wood, it¡¯s those strange mushrooms, look over there they¡¯re cutting one down and taking it it to be dried over there,¡± Fritz explained as he watched them from their vantage point. The other two squinted at where he pointed out what he was seeing.

    ¡°As for why they¡¯re building a Spire, I have read of that being something of a reoccurring trend in Climber reports. Some say the monsters are trying to emulate our own Spires, but as to why is a mystery. The most convincing argument I¡¯ve heard is that they build it to try and escape the Spire, causing a Spire breach. But that¡¯s just speculation.¡± He didn¡¯t really know that much about the subject as there was precious little knowledge available, even for the nobility. Fritz suspected that only the most powerful, wealthy and connected knew something, but if they did they weren¡¯t telling anyone.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Sounds plausible,¡± Sid said. ¡°But don¡¯t only aberrant beasts cause breaches?¡±

    ¡°Maybe the Chief is aberrant,¡± Fritz posited.

    ¡°Well if it is, we should kill him and harvest his Seed,¡± Sid suggested.

    ¡°Seed?¡± Bert inquired blandly.

    Fritz sighed and Sid scowled, ¡°Do you really never learn anything, Bert?¡± She said in agitation. ¡°I thought it was funny at first but this almost seems on purpose.¡±

    ¡°See what I¡¯ve been dealing with,¡± Fritz said self-pityingly.

    ¡°Of course I know what an Aberrant Seed is. I was just messing with you both,¡± Bert said smugly, his grin widening.

    ¡°Really then what is it?¡± Fritz demanded.

    ¡°What is this? A test? Right now? Don¡¯t we have better things to do, like kill hundreds of goblins?¡± Bert deflected.

    Unwilling to argue, Fritz just shook his head in resigned bemusement and interrupted Sid as she made to answer or berate him, knowing it would do no good.

    ¡°Battle plan?¡± He said, looking for suggestions.

    ¡°Charge the spire and kill all the goblins that get in our way,¡± Bert stated.

    ¡°How about a plan with a little less suicide?¡± Fritz suggested.

    Bert grumbled and Sid spoke up, ¡°Any chance you could lure out the captains and we could ambush them?¡±

    ¡°A much better plan, and yes. I¡¯m great bait,¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°I want to be the bait this time,¡± Bert said. ¡°Standing around waiting is far too boring.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re harder to kill too,¡± Sid pointed out.

    Fritz felt a pang of worry but suppressed it. Bert would be fine, those crystal swords, even if they hit him, could barely cut his friend¡¯s Tough Skin.

    Bert turned to him with a pleading eagerness in his amber eyes.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°Watch out for shamans though, I haven¡¯t seen any yet but there still may be some in those bigger buildings behind the walls. They may have some snaring magic or something, we shouldn¡¯t assume they all have that same eldritch fire spell. I would suggest you try that shanty town first. I think I saw a glowing baton over there. We¡¯ll want to target the captains and warriors until they can no longer maintain their oppression of their ill-treated kin. Then the ragged workers should rebel and attempt to overthrow the Chief, while their forces are weakened from our ambushes.¡± He pointed to a set of tents shaded amongst the mushrooms while espousing some strategy he had read in ¡®The Observations.¡¯

    Sid seemed to notice the similarities. She smirked knowingly then nodded once in agreement.

    ¡°Will do. Try not to miss me,¡± Bert said, setting down his heavy pack and sneaking down into the basin, using the mushroom¡¯s thick stems as cover.

    Fritz watched as Bert left and set down his own pack. He took out his fish blade from its loop, deciding it would be better in this ambush than the dagger. He looked to Sid who was also placing down her pack, she set up on the other side of the entrance and they lay in wait. Both were quiet and prepared to ambush whatever Bert brought to them, Sid tested her bowstring with a soft twang and Fritz clenched the cloth hilt of Quicksilver tight.

    He glanced at Sid and caught her doing the same, they both looked away quickly letting the air be filled with only the noise of distant, giggling and groaning goblins.

    His face heated a little and his heart sped up, not from the anticipation of battle but because he just realised this was the first time he and Sid had really been alone, together. He focused his attention on the mushroom fields and squashed the squirming desire to speak to Sid.

    Watching and waiting, they stayed silent and prepared for the fight to come.

    ---

    Finally, some time away from those two and their annoyingly awkward tension, Bert thought as he slipped from one mushroom stem to another making his way towards a collection of tents where Fritz had pointed out. Maybe once I get back they¡¯ll have worked it out, one way or the other. Or knowing that idiot Fritz maybe they¡¯ll both be stupid the whole climb.

    Bert let himself chuckle at the thought of Fritz spluttering and managing to put his noble foot in his overly wordy mouth. Again.

    He had been running for at least ten minutes when Bert heard a giggle and thwack from ahead. Goblins! He grinned wide, his heartbeat picked up and he felt the blood roaring through his veins with that raucous, drumming thrill he¡¯d been revelling in recently. Dashing around a mushroom stem and bursting into a tent village, Bert found himself facing down a startled captain and his retinue of warriors. He seemed to have interrupted the beating of some of the workers, the glowing baton was still being swung at a bony back when Bert yelled out his challenge.

    ¡°Come at me gobos, meet my fists!¡± Bert bellowed.

    Around fifty goblins all stared in surprise at the unarmed and unarmoured man screaming at them, for a whole moment they stood there, unmoving. Then the captain giggled and the workers scrabbled for weapons while the warriors drew their own short swords and scurried to surround the insane interloper.

    While he knew the plan was to lure them back for an ambush Bert decided instead to have a little fun, if Fritz could defeat six alone then he could easily do better, and what better way to let loose some of the burning, beating, frustration within his heart. That pressure that had been building ever since the crew was torn apart. It was unbearable, and goblins were no threat to him now, no threat at all.

    He didn¡¯t want to give the goblins the time to encircle him so he rushed at one of the warriors. He pulled on the thrumming power of his Sanctum to bring out the hammering ripples of Concussive Blow. The warrior brought up its shield covering its torso but Bert kicked it with the full force of his Ability and Strength. The wood splintered, so did the forearm beneath as his heel struck and the goblin was flung off its feet from the powerful blow, crashing into tent behind. His foot ached from the impact but he easily ignored it.

    A sword slashed in from the side but Bert easily slipped by it and with one quick punch shattered the attacking creature''s face like it was an egg. A rotting egg. The fight was on, the goblins surrounded him on all sides but Bert was a whirlwind of destruction, dodging blows and responding with fists, feet, knees and elbows. Each of his punches would break their weak bones and it felt like his kicks crushed their skeletons to powder. But there were a lot of them and one had managed to sneak up and strike him with their jagged sword, leaving a shallow cut that only bled for moments, his Vitality plugging the piddling wound quickly with a scab. The aching bruises on his heel and knuckles rapidly receded, even as he kept up his punishing punches.

    Those sort of pathetic slashes wouldn¡¯t slow him down at all. No, they would have to hit him somewhere vital, like the neck to actually hurt him and even then Bert had the distinct impression that he¡¯d survive if the strike didn¡¯t cut deep enough. Or was cursed, he reminded himself.

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    The goblins piled in, the workers scavenging spears to join in jabbing at his back and sides, it seemed wherever he faced the creatures would run and scurry to his flanks. It did them no good as Bert grinned and spun, letting forth a gout of misting liquid from his palm right into the throng of jostling goblins behind. The searing, bubbling Power burst forth from his command and the goblins shrieked as the Corrosive Spray showered them.

    Bert laughed as the workers broke, sprinting in every direction to get away from his outstretched palm and his gruesome guffaws. Only the warriors and their captain remained and Bert could see that they were all shaken. The captain went to say something in its guttural tongue but Bert didn¡¯t listen. He dashed forward ducking and rolling under the swings of its bodyguards. He got to his feet as the radiant baton came down to meet his charge. Not having enough time to dodge effectively Bert took the blow on the shoulder and moved with it, shrugging away some of the force just like the Arte Pugilist taught. Thunderous pulses passed through his body, staggering him and disrupting his Strength as he swung an ineffectual fist into the captain''s mushroom breastplate where it bounced off with a weak thud that was accompanied by a mocking giggle.

    The baton¡¯s effect wracked him for another moment before it began to fade and the captain took advantage, yelling out an order in its rough, high voice. The warriors abandoned the flanking tactics they had been employing, instead, they threw themselves bodily onto Bert, grabbing at his limbs, attempting to overbear him, bind his movement and bring him down.

    Damn! Bert thought as he was dragged to the cavern floor under the mass of at least twenty goblin warriors. He struggled, slipped and managed a few quick punches here and there, breaking bones where he could. It was hard to breathe under the pile of grey-skinned, stinking creatures that were still jumping onto him and holding onto what they could. Bert couldn¡¯t move under all their bodies, his muscles strained as he tried to pull free of the countless grasping limbs. It was hot and sweaty at the very bottom of the jumble of goblins and he stopped laughing when some of the monsters that had brought daggers and swords with them started to stab him through the pile¡¯s gaps.

    He hissed in annoyance as they poked and pricked, and then the slashing started. He supposed it was like being eaten alive by a swarm of gutter rats. It was probably painful, but it was easily bearable, as nothing could feel as bad as his time in the salt snail¡¯s shell, that had been truly agonising. That experience had really taught him something of pain and this barely compared to that burning, melting, blistering, blinding abyss.

    Maybe I should give them a little taste of that abyss, he thought while grinning spitefully.

    Unclenching his fists, he turned his hands upwards and echoed the roaring voices of his Sanctum. He wrestled the ruinous power in his centre and poured forth gouts of acidic spray from both his palms. Corrosive Spray burned as it splashed back against his own skin, he hissed in pain and the goblins screamed as they struggled to get free of the pile. Their momentary weakness was enough for Bert to move his arms again and he swung with abandon throwing goblins off him as he pushed them and pulverised them with Concussive Blows.

    With some frantic tossing and turning in the sizzling pile Bert broke free, getting to his feet and laying about him with punches and kicks, letting his training take over and his wondrous Technique guide him as he shattered, threw bodily and broke the goblins still standing before him.

    Bert felt himself getting tired, getting slower, each of the Abilities he used taking their toll on his vast but still limited Stamina. Even with the cost reduction from his Technique he found himself panting heavily and sweating hard. He was taking more cuts from stray strikes as the goblins fled his reach or got in one last stab before they died to his mighty fists.

    It seemed that the captain had finally reached the end of its patience and it dashed forward swinging its baton in a sideways arc right at Bert¡¯s head. He was able to duck the first blow, but the goblin followed through with another slashing strike, this time low enough to hit Bert¡¯s upper arm just above the elbow.

    The baton¡¯s power thundered up his arm, again stunning him and numbing it completely below the shoulder. Bert clenched his teeth and snaked his good arm around the goblin''s head grasping its face from behind, pulling and pinning the captain¡¯s head between his arm and chest. The move resembled a face-forward headlock mixed with a bear hug, Bert knew it wasn¡¯t going to be effective at holding the creature for long but with the last of his dwindling Stamina he sprayed acid directly up its nose and down its open, now-screaming mouth.

    It dropped its baton and immediately used all its unusual strength to push Bert off of itself in blind spitting panic. He was happy to oblige, letting the goblin go, watching it retching and sneezing a virulent rain of blood, pus and other equally horrible body fluids. Bert moved to finish off the kneeling, spluttering goblin captain as it gasped, struggling to breathe through its melted throat. Bert in his tired state, swung a right hook at the side of the captains head. The un-empowered blow caved in its skull and its wooden armour clunked on the stone as the creature fell bonelessly.

    Bert was left breathing hard in the now silent shanty town. He looked around for some moments counting the slain. One captain, at least twelve warriors and about ten workers lay dead and destroyed, scattered around the ruined camp. Only got around half of them, the other workers must have fled once they saw my might, Bert surmised smugly.

    Bert gave himself some minutes to recover, he could feel the warm, invigorating energy of his Vitality pulsing in time with his heart, rumbling in his blood and tingling over his wounds working its restorative magic. It was a great feeling, ever since he had woken with Vitality he felt had this well of boundless life right there, bubbling forth like a wild spring from his centre. Bert¡¯s cuts had scabbed over in the fight and now they were beginning to close properly. He knew from experience that these small cuts and bruises would be gone without a trace within an hour.

    A horn blared and Bert could distantly hear high yells of alarm from the direction of the fort. No problem I¡¯ll just wait here until a group comes to scout out the danger and by danger I mean my fists, Bert told himself. So he waited for the squad of grey-skinned monsters he was to lead to his crew.

    After around ten minutes the blaring of horns intensified as did the sound of stampeding feet. Bert realised he may have completely Fritzed up their plan with his battle lust. There was possibly more than the one or two squads of goblins he was meant to string along. Fritz and Sid will just have to deal with it, it was a dumb plan anyway, he concluded as the gibbering and giggling of an approaching horde of goblins grew closer.

    They were getting close so he prepared to run, he had recovered enough for a quick sprint, just another great bonus from his recovery Attributes. He noticed that they worked together Endurance easing the tiredness and Vitality healing any soreness in his muscles. He¡¯d have to talk to Fritz or Sid about it to see if they knew why this was the case, but for now, he just enjoyed the benefits without thinking too deeply about them.

    The veritable horde of goblins, far more than the fifty-or-so he had fought, burst from the forest of mushrooms. They were mostly warriors with a spattering of captains and they spotted him standing there out in the open amongst the ruin of the goblin camp. The horde charged, screaming their small fury in a shrill war cry. Bert waited until they were within ten yards, then he sprinted up the incline, toward the entrance and where his friends lay in ambush.

    A cackle rang out over the screaming tide behind him and a familiar bolt of blue-green flame passed over Bert¡¯s head and struck a mushroom''s stem, wreathing the pale trunk in twisting fire and eerie light. The cap sizzled and burnt releasing a not too terrible smelling steam as the fungus was cooked.

    It seemed there was a shaman with the goblins, or two he noted as another shrieking bolt flew overhead and Bert could only say one thing as he ran through the pungent clouds of steam and smoke.

    ¡°Whoops.¡±

    ---

    Fritz and Sid were waiting and waiting and waiting. It was something of a new experience for Fritz and he had to say he didn¡¯t care for it.

    ¡°This is what you two do when I¡¯m off exploring? Just wait in silence?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Shhh,¡± Sid hissed.

    ¡°Bert was right. This is boring, no wonder he¡¯s always so excited to fight,¡± Fritz continued in a projected whisper as he stared out over the field of mushrooms in frustration.

    He thought he saw a flash of blue-green light and his stomach tied in a knot.

    ¡°Did you see that?¡± Fritz said.

    Sid squinted into the gloomy forest of fungus then shook her head, conjuring an arrow and putting it in her quiver to join the others she had been summoning when her air mana reservoir was full. They would disappear within an hour but Fritz looked on enviously, wishing he had his own Magic Attribute and contemplating if he should start littering the area with Stone Pits.

    He decided against that in the end as they were far less useful when they were obvious, relying more on the surprise of the stone moving out from under your foot than the actual hole itself. Plus he didn''t want to tire himself out for the fight ahead.

    Fritz worried at his shirt, stopped himself from pacing in impatience then he smelt something on the air. Smoke with a strange scent, like cooked dirt.

    There was another flash of blue-green, this time closer. He could see movement, a glimpse of blue and white here and there, running ahead of a tide of brown armour, grey-skin and clear crystal. Fritz heard the distant, but very familiar sound of Bert¡¯s laughter and motioned at Sid to get ready, he didn¡¯t have to though.

    Sid drew in a breath and conjured an arrow into her hand and Fritz prepared to sculpt a hole under the most dangerous of Bert¡¯s pursuers.

    A figure in blue and white sprinted out of the mushroom field ahead, his golden hair whipping out behind him as he ran, laughing the whole way.

    Madman, Fritz thought while smiling wide. Sid echoed his thought in a grumble.

    It took Bert a whole minute to reach the entrance, sweating and panting then turning his back to them just as the goblin horde poured out of the forest of mushrooms in a great wave of gibbering and jabbering rage. Bert spread his arms wide as if inviting the cheers of a crowd and bellowed in challenge at the approaching tide of spears and swords.

    ¡°Come at me gobos, meet my fists, and my friends!¡±

 Chapter 46

    It was a slaughter.

    Arrows wrapped in winding winds drilled through the first and second rank of goblin swarm. Fritz followed in Bert¡¯s wake as he ploughed into the teeming horde, he covered his friend¡¯s flank with sawing sweeps of his fish blade, focusing on hacking away limbs rather than aiming for necks or heads. Bert seemed not to care much where he struck, only bothering to wreathe his strikes with rippling force when facing down a captain in their hard, mushroom armour. Those goblins wearing hide, or even worse nothing, had their chests and heads caved in with compact yet mighty blows from his fists, elbows with the occasional devastating knee or sweeping kick.

    Bert seemed untouchable by their ungainly strikes and a ring of broken bodies was starting to pile around him. Fritz noticed a flash of blue-green and a bolt of eldritch fire shot out, seemingly from the back of the horde. It went wide and struck a goblin warrior setting its hide vest alight with the shrieking, eerie flame.

    Fritz called out to Bert, ¡°I need to break out, Corrosive Spray to the left!¡±

    Bert obeyed the order, pulling his fist back from a punch that had shattered a warrior¡¯s skull and opening his hand, palm out. The misting acid came forth in a torrent, covering the goblins to his left. Their screams were added to the cacophony of gibbering and giggling. Fritz took the opening, charging through the gap that the staggering, screaming goblins left as they stumbled away and rubbed at their melting flesh.

    Using his fish blade to fend off any errant goblin attacks Fritz burst through the encirclement and ran into the cover of the mushroom forest. Another bolt of blue-green flame arced toward Bert and Fritz yelled out a warning, ¡°Bert! Fire! Up and right!¡±

    Bert glanced upwards and quickly spotted the lobbed flame, he lunged forward and seized a captain under its arms, narrowly dodging its radiant baton and hefting the goblin up like it was a child. He held the struggling creature between him and the bolt of eldritch fire. The blue-green flame splashed against its mushroom-plated back and Bert flung the newly fire-engulfed goblin far away and into its fellows.

    Fritz didn¡¯t have time to stare at Bert¡¯s display of complete martial dominance and made to search for the shamans and captains spitting out commands and threats from the back line. A wind-infused arrow whizzed overhead, following down the bolt of magic¡¯s arc, about to strike one of the talisman-laden shamans. It should have hit the giddy spell-caster, but instead the arrow was caught in a current of swirling air and thrown off course into a warrior¡¯s chest.

    Fritz cursed, he had hoped that Sid would be able to pick off the leader goblins with her bow but it seemed that wasn¡¯t going to be feasible against the shamans and their new anti-arrow trick. It¡¯d probably work on Bert¡¯s corrosive Spray as well Fritz noted. He grimaced, knowing that he had to be the one to disrupt or even kill the shielded shamans while Bert held off the horde.

    Activating his ring and sprinting through the mushroom stems, Fritz lost any remaining pursuers and circumnavigated the swarm. Within the minute he was behind the force assaulting his crew, weaving between the mushrooms, finding and killing the occasional fleeing or shirking warrior. They weren''t difficult to dispatch when they were alone, but it did slow him down, taking up his precious time and energy. Eventually, he made his way to a cluster of shamans and the warriors protecting them. He counted three of the foul fetish and tattoo-covered monsters as two of them summoned and slung eldritch flame at his crew while one seemed to be concentrating on something, likely the wind shield.

    Worriedly Fritz took stock of the battlefield. Sid seemed to be struggling, trying to keep as much distance as she could from the onrushing tide of grey-skins while also dodging bolts of eldritch flame. Gust would¡¯ve been good here, Fritz thought anxiously. Bert however seemed to be revelling in the battle even as many more goblins appeared from the mushrooms and joined the fray from the sides. However well he was doing now Fritz could see Bert was taking cuts, was moving slower and being more conservative with his Abilities, he was getting tired. It was to be expected, Fritz was only running around and he was panting like a dog, the intense combat Bert was embroiled in had to be incredibly draining, even with his Endurance and Vitality as high as they were.

    Knowing he had little time to turn the tides of battle, Fritz acted, sprinting to get behind the concentrating shaman. When got within three feet of the shaman a strong gust of wind blew over him from the side and nearly knocked him down but he pushed through the gale and found himself face to face with the goblin with a shocked look on its wrinkled features. Shock that was quickly replaced with fear. Fritz kept pushing forward, calling upon the shifting dark and plunging his shadowed fish blade into the shaman¡¯s heart. Its face went slack as Fritz pulled his fish blade from its punctured chest.

    Maybe because of fortune or maybe because of the chaos of battle or perhaps even because of Gloom Strike¡¯s ability to shroud his attacks the other shamans and warriors didn¡¯t notice him in their midst, yet. Fritz felt he only had one more use of an Ability, what with all the running, fighting and the previous casts. So saving his stamina he struck out at the back of a shaman''s head without shadowing his blade, catching it unawares as it formed a bolt of blue-green flame above its palm. His blade sawed halfway through the goblin¡¯s spine before it got stuck in the tight flesh of the creature''s neck.

    Yanking his sword free and swinging it in a wide arc at the last shaman¡¯s back he cut through the it¡¯s dangling charms and his blade¡¯s serrated edge chewed into the tattooed, grey flesh of its back. The last of the spell-casters fell and unfortunately the warriors finally noticed Fritz whirling amongst them.

    The six of them turned to face him. They swung, stabbed and chopped at him with their crystal blades. Fritz leapt back and they followed, surrounding him quickly. Caught and with no way out but forward, he grit his teeth and rushed while wreathing his fish blade with the roiling dark of Gloom Strike. He feinted by stepping to the right then stabbed suddenly at the warrior blocking his way. The goblin¡¯s spark-like eyes struggled to keep focus on Fritz¡¯s sword but it still attempted to parry the shadowed blade with its own crystal sword. The creature¡¯s parry was a clumsy mess, likely due to Gloom Strike¡¯s dampening effect. The fish blade sparked across the crystal and on reaching the goblin''s throat, tore it out easily.

    He ran past the creature as it clutched at its opened neck only to find a captain standing in his path and menacing him with brutal jabs of its glowing baton. Fritz was forced back lest he be hit with the obviously dangerous weapon and warriors closed in again from the sides and from behind.

    Fritz looked into the captain''s eyes and fear bubbled up in his gut. The captain and its retinue giggled at their cornered prey. A whistling note sang in Fritz¡¯s ear and he smirked and let out his own chuckle at the goblin. It scowled and its grating giggling was cut off both from Fritz¡¯s flippant attitude and from the sudden blossoming of an arrowhead out from its forehead accompanied with a  spurting of dark green blood. The goblin fell and Fritz used to moment of surprise to lunge forward and thrust his fish blade into a warrior¡¯s dark eye, bursting it with a squelch.

    The other goblins of the captain''s retinue backed up, stepping out of the reach of the deadly, glinting Quicksilver. They fearfully looked around for reinforcements or what would pass for leadership amongst their foul kind. Fritz could tell the warriors were close to fleeing, they glanced around at the corpses of their shamans and captains and they were unusually quiet. One more push, he thought as the fatigue from Stamina drain set in and his guarded stance began to wilt.

    A warrior cautiously moved forward, raising its shield and stabbing at Fritz¡¯s chest. He took a single step back from the blade letting it miss him by an inch, then retaliated by hacking off its hand at the wrist. Another goblin took its chance while he was preoccupied and leapt in with a savage barrage of slashes at his side. Fritz dodged the first and second strikes but the third wicked slash tore across his scale hide and over his infirm arm, jolting him painfully and cutting a long rent in his increasingly ragged armour. The goblin seeing Fritz¡¯s pain pushed forward again with a stab, Fritz caught it on his fish blade and executed an almost perfect parry, accompanied with a darting riposte that cut through the creature¡¯s hide vest and dug into its chest.

    It collapsed while the one-handed goblin fled into the mushrooms, leaving behind a dark trail of blood.

    Fritz felt there was a change in the air and Bert let out a mighty yell that could be heard even over the jabbering and screeching of the horde. He spotted the man in the centre of a ring of goblins and their kin¡¯s corpses, Bert was covered in cuts bruises and his clothes were ripped and stained with blood, mostly dark green but some red patches were visible to Fritz¡¯s exceptional eyes. Sid had also joined the melee, slashing this way and that with her fin sword and cracking down with a scavenged glowing baton in her other hand.

    Bert grabbed the last of the captains by the sides of its head and even as it struck him with its baton he pulled its ugly face downward to meet his rising knee as it pulsed with near-invisible force. The goblin¡¯s head split down the middle with a wet crack and burst, showering Bert and its retinue with dark green chunks. He let out another powerful yell and the workers broke, dropping their weapons and scrabbling away in mad terror. Only moments after the warriors who were watching followed suit, fleeing to save their misbegotten lives.

    Bert pursued and Sid harried the goblin¡¯s flanks but the grey-skinned monsters soon outpaced the tired Climbers. Fritz hid behind a mushroom stem as thick as his shoulders and contented himself by hacking, thrusting and slashing at any warriors that fled past his position. Soon the battle was done, with the last of the visibly remaining goblins falling to a quick thrust from Fritz¡¯s fish blade.

    He peeked past his tree to see Bert and Sid walking slowly to each other across the battlefield, he decided to join them leaving his cover and stepping on or over the fallen goblins that lay in his path.

    At least one hundred short, thin bodies lay strewn across the terracotta-coloured stone, and none of them stirred, either they were dead or extremely good at playing dead. If any creature would be good at that it would be goblins, Fritz thought, keeping alert for any surprise attacks.

    It was fortunate that he did so, as he felt something like an echo ring in his sanctum and a tingle up his arm. Fritz rolled to the side, jarring his shoulder and hearing a shrieking bolt of eldritch flame soar over him. He came up to his feet and spun on the now-kneeling shaman as it attempted to cast another bolt at him. It didn¡¯t get the chance, Fritz threw his fish blade like someone would throw an axe, it spun vertically end over end until it hewed into the goblin¡¯s shoulder, causing it to fall back to the floor, dropping its bolt of fire upon itself and screaming out a shrill curse as it was set aflame.

    The shaman ignited, all its dangling charms providing no protection and only serving as more fuel for the eldritch fire. In a quick conflagration, the goblin was completely subsumed by its own destructive magic, only leaving behind a charred and warped skeleton lying across the fish blade.

    That could¡¯ve been me, Fritz thought as nausea wracked him and he broke into a cold sweat.

    Fritz worried about his sword¡¯s safety but could see the blade was unharmed, in fact, the blade seemed to pull the eerie flame in and around itself in waves whilst leaving it unmarred. Its opalescent core glittered unusually bright with twisting sparks of blue-green fire dancing within.

    Fritz went to approach the still smouldering corpse but soon discovered a new fact about goblins and the smoke the produced. He had thought dead goblin was the worst thing he had ever smelt, but he was wrong. It turned out the only thing that smelled worse than a dead goblin was a burnt goblin. Fritz gagged on the rancid smog, backing away from the smoking, withering husk.

    ¡°Oh gods, what is that smell!¡± Bert cried, covering his mouth and nose with his hands.

    ¡°Just some especially crispy shaman,¡± Fritz choked out, staggering over to his crew and waiting for the air to clear.

    ¡°Bleh, I should¡¯ve picked gust,¡± Sid said, spitting to the side and pulling her scarf up and over her face to protect her senses from the slowly wafting smoke.

    ¡°Maybe a Wind Strike would help?¡± Fritz suggested, eager to get his sword back from where it lay under the blackened skeleton.

    ¡°No mana, let me rest,¡± Sid replied. ¡°Away from all this filth,¡± she amended, trudging towards the cavern entrance and away from the reeking battlefield.

    Bert also made his way to the entrance and the clear caves beyond. Fritz with a forlorn glance to his fish blade then joined them with tired steps.

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    They sat in the tunnels past the entrance, but none of them ate. The goblin stink turned their stomachs and would have made even delicious food unappetising, and the veritable tons of roasted bear steak were closer to edible than delicious.

    ¡°Bert?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Yes?¡± Bert said.

    ¡°When we asked you to lure over a captain and their squad into an ambush,¡± Fritz started. ¡°Did you, perchance, take that to mean, lure hundreds of goblins into a pitched battle with your three-man Climber team?¡± He asked as if he were inquiring about the origin and blend of a delightful pot of tea.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Bert hummed rubbing at a non-existent beard. ¡°You didn¡¯t say anything that said I couldn¡¯t. I just asked myself, what would Fritz do?¡±

    Fritz scowled for a moment then put his polite, bland expression back on his face, saying, ¡°Quite right my friend, we didn¡¯t say you couldn¡¯t. And it¡¯s a natural phenomenon that the dull seek to emulate their intellectual betters so I can¡¯t fault you there either.¡±

    Bert huffed at the slight to his intelligence, and Sid interjected, ¡°I can fault him, even though we survived it was a bloody mess. I almost died.¡± She motioned to a scuffed patch on her breastplate just above her heart.

    Bert grimaced, ¡°Sorry, I must¡¯ve got a little carried away.¡±

    ¡°A little carried away? Near on two hundred goblins, Bert! That¡¯s more than a little carried away,¡± Fritz argued.

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re dead now. And we got some of the magic goblins and a bunch of those baton-wielding guys,¡± Bert responded and crossed his arms defensively. ¡°We¡¯d have to kill them anyway. Just killing two birds with one stone, or twenty-ish goblin leaders with one ambush.¡±

    Sid frowned and Fritz sighed heavily, he was right in a way but wrong in so many others. No use to argue, Fritz surmised, and in a resigned voice said, ¡°Well what¡¯s done is done, next time I¡¯m the bait though.¡±

    Bert begrudgingly agreed.

    The rhythm of the blaring horns changed the long droning notes now a rapid, repeating burst of three high blasts.

    ¡°Sounds like a call to retreat,¡± Fritz guessed.

    It seemed he had predicted correctly as when he looked towards the walls he saw the goblins rushing and gathering at its open gate. There was quite the unruly crowd forming, the workers jostled and bickered amongst each other and the warriors and captains were busy squashing fights as they broke out in the mayhem.

    ¡°Might make it harder to pick off the leaders,¡± Fritz observed. ¡°It''s chaos down there.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Sid hedged. ¡°But if I can get a good vantage point we could use the chaos to pick off the captains.¡±

    Fritz considered the idea and decided she was absolutely right.

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a great plan Sid,¡± he proclaimed. ¡°We¡¯ll find you a place to set up, I can pick out the targets with my great Perception and you can kill them from afar.¡±

    ¡°What about me?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re on guard duty,¡± Fritz replied easily.

    ¡°Sounds boring,¡± Bert complained.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have enough excitement when the riots start. Look they¡¯re already at the edge, just a little push from Sid¡¯s wind arrows and it¡¯ll be an all-out war between the Chief and the workers,¡± Fritz espoused.

    Bert grumbled but seemed to be heartened by the promise of another big fight on the horizon.

    Pleased that they had a solid plan Fritz searched the brightly illuminated cavern for a high point from which Sid could loose her deadly arrows. He spotted something of an overhang, jutting from the wall about a twenty-minute walk from where they currently sat that he suspected was close enough to oversee the walls. There was no obvious way to get up to it but that was a problem for when they got there and if worse came to worse Fritz had Stone Pit to create handholds and a rope to catch on one of the overhang¡¯s stony stalactites.

    ¡°Over there, see that cliff high up there?¡± said Fritz, pointing to a spot on the terracotta cave¡¯s wall.

    ¡°Nope,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°No,¡± Sid stated, squinting.

    To be expected, he supposed, his crew weren¡¯t graced with enhanced senses.

    ¡°Well there is an overhang that would be big enough for us to stand on,¡± Fritz explained.

    Bert stood, ¡°What are we waiting for?¡±

    ¡°My fi- Quicksilver, and Sid¡¯s mana,¡± Fritz said.

    Not missing a beat, Bert strode to where the fish blade lay and plucked it from the charred remains of the shaman, coughing as ash blew into his face.

    Fritz smiled at the sight.

    Bert returned and handed Quicksilver to its rightful master, then went to put on his pack, when Sid said, ¡°Hang on, I have to recharge my belt.¡±

    ¡°Me too, my ring I mean,¡± Fritz added, noticing that his sword still had blue-green embers dancing in its opaline core and becoming distracted for a moment. Wonder what that¡¯s about, I¡¯ll look it over later, he told himself.

    Bert looked at his ragged and stained clothes, sighed and said, ¡°I might as well fix my clothes as well.¡±

    His vest and pants re-knit their rents and removed their stains, leaving Bert looking as smug as ever when he let out another sigh, this time of condescending contentment.

    They touched their respective treasures to the golden heart leaving it smaller than ever, more than half of it was gone at this point and Fritz wondered how much they¡¯d have left by the end of the Spire. Not much, he suspected. Pushing away those sour thoughts Fritz led them to the overhang, keeping an eye out for ambushes. He needn¡¯t have bothered as the goblins seemed to have obeyed the order to retreat behind the questionable safety of the spiked, crystal walls.

    He led them to the cliff¡¯s base without much hassle. It was closer than he would have liked to the walls, but it seemed the only place that met the requirements for their strategy that wasn¡¯t far too out of the range of Sid¡¯s bow. Fritz found himself staring up at the cliff and its overhang fifty feet overhead, wondering about the best way to get up the rough rock. He thought he could pick out a route, using sparing casts of his Stone Pit Ability so he got to work, pulling on the light that made up the Power. He created a handhold then sat down panting, realising he was still bone tired from the last battle. He took some time to reflect.

    He found that the Stone Pit Ability was becoming easier and easier to use, forming quicker in his mind and requiring less focus to aim. Fritz suspected it was probably due to his new familiarity and practise, but it may also be because he wasn¡¯t in a life-and-death situation.

    Well, he supposed he was still in deadly peril but this was a definite lull in the near-constant danger of the Spire. He decided to embrace the quiet and allow himself to relax a little as he recovered from casting his spell. His stomach gurgled and he grimaced, they had eaten only a couple of hours ago but it felt like he had been fasting all day.

    ¡°Anyone else weirdly hungry?¡± Fritz inquired, opening his pack and seizing some monster meat, he took a bite into it and was rewarded with a leathery flavour and a chalky aftertaste.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sid said, setting down her pack and pulling out a bear steak for herself. She grimaced as she chewed the tough flesh.

    Bert joined in the impromptu meal. Grumbling about the terrible taste with the rest of them.

    The food was revolting but refreshed him considerably, he suspected monster meat had qualities that helped restore Stamina but still, it took almost an hour to regain enough energy for another Stone Pit. ¡°Wish we could eat gold,¡± Fritz bemoaned.

    ¡°You could use the last stamina potion, still got it, Sid?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°I have it, but like the health potion, I don¡¯t want to waste it. Still more danger ahead,¡± Sid stated resolutely.

    ¡°Last one?¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Yeah, I used my one in the last battle, felt really tired, and the goblins seemed endless, like my paramours. Luckily they weren¡¯t,¡± Bert said, his face lighting with his insufferable grin.

    Fritz shook his head and Sid scoffed.

    ¡°Might as well just wait. Sid¡¯s right, the potions should only be used in emergencies, though, I wish we still had the ones Jane ran off with,¡± Fritz said bitterly.

    Bert¡¯s grin faltered and Sid grunted in response.

    They fell into a souring silence until Bert stood saying, ¡°I¡¯m gonna climb this wall with or without holds. Can''t stand just sitting around stewing.¡±

    ¡°Be my guest, but take the rope with you, you can drop it down, it won''t reach the whole way but it might make some of Sid¡¯s climb easier,¡± Fritz suggested.

    Bert began to climb, his extraordinary strength allowing him to scale the sheer surface with much less trouble than Fritz or Sid would have.

    ¡°How many times do you think he¡¯ll fall before he quits?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°He wont quit. The question should be: how many times do you think he¡¯ll fall before he gets to the top?¡± Fritz responded confidently. ¡°I bet less than four.¡±

    ¡°A gold triad?¡± Sid said with a smirk.

    ¡°Easily,¡± Fritz said, offering his hand to shake.

    They grasped hands and Fritz was awkwardly aware of the feel of her skin against his own. Sid¡¯s warm palm and fingers, so soft but hard with callouses. They firmed their grips holding on tightly for a moment, then a moment too long, then a moment too longer. Sid looked into Fritz¡¯s eyes, they gazed at each other, then turned away, breaking their hands apart quickly.

    Fritz stepped back and coughed. He turned to watch Bert¡¯s progress up the cavern wall.

    Sid turned to her pack and pretended to rummage through it for something. They made themselves busy doing nothing.

    Bert fell twice, once from ten feet up, only spraining his ankle which healed up in ten minutes. Then again at thirty breaking his legs, his bones were fixed immediately by his Imbued Bones Trait but the torn muscles needed at least half an hour to heal enough for Bert to try for one final climb. Fritz wanted to reprimand the fool for his reckless behaviour but knew it wouldn¡¯t do anything but distract them both. They always had that last health potion if Bert fell badly.

    It wold be a waste but worth it.

    ¡°A worthwhile waste?¡± Fritz mused aloud.

    Sid ignored him, engrossed as she was in ¡®The Observations.¡¯

    It gave Fritz enough time to rest for another cast of Stone pit around where Bert had fallen from and allowed Bert to reach the overhang on his third try. He let out a yell of triumph and Fritz and Sid applauded, impressed that he had made it this time.

    ¡°Guess I owe you a triad,¡± Sid said, standing and preparing to climb.

    ¡°Always bet on Bert, he¡¯s unreliably reliable,¡± Fritz espoused. ¡°Also, good luck on the climb Sid,¡± He added earnestly with a smile.

    Sid turned away, mumbling, ¡°thanks.¡±

    Bert tied off the dark rope around his waist and braced himself as he threw the rest of its length down.

    Sid started to climb the terracotta stone, as the rope was only something like forty feet long, less since he cut some of its length for new shoelaces. She still had to climb about twenty feet, which to Fritz¡¯s mind was still dangerous.

    It turned out he didn¡¯t have to worry, but he did. Sid deftly scaled the rock and seized on the hanging rope, hauling herself up while also being hauled up by Bert. She reached the top waved down with a tired smile and Fritz was up next.

    Fritz started his climb, the dry rough rock was easy enough to keep a grip on, much easier than the slippery stone and wood of the buildings in Rain City. He was able to climb surely if not swiftly. He had the strangely soft rope in his hands within a couple of minutes and contented himself by holding on and being pulled up by Bert, who called down, ¡°Fritz, you lazy sneak thief, don¡¯t make me do all the work.¡±

    ¡°My spindle-itus is acting up!¡± Fritz whined dramatically.

    Bert grunted and focused all his effort on pulling his idiot friend up. Fritz scrabbled over the stone edge, rolled over onto his back and let out a long breath of relief.

    Sid gave him a soft dig in the ribs with her hard boot and crooked her head at the goblin fort.

    ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll spot the captains for you,¡± Fritz complained, rolling onto his belly and crawling to the lip closest to the goblin walls.

    He peered over the cavern basin and searched the crystal walls, spotting a goblin in telltale dangling charms he pointed it out, ¡°Shaman right there, see it?¡±

    Sid squinted, ¡°Sort of, can''t make out much detail, Eagle Eye would¡¯ve been great here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, maybe, but you¡¯d have no arrows,¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°Not sure how good my aim will be from this far away,¡± Sid added in an unusually unconfident cadence.

    ¡°Bert and I have full faith in your abilities,¡± Fritz said cheerily. ¡°Loose at will.¡±

    Sid shrugged and bent her bow.

 Chapter 47

    ¡°Over there, just by the second to the left spike,¡± Fritz said pointing out the next goblin captain as it hid from its far-off attacker.

    Sid grunted and conjured another arrow, she brought the translucent shaft up to her sweaty cheek, looking down its length as she bent her bow. Sid stood there aiming for a solid three seconds then loosed. There was a rustling of the wind as the arrow soared over the mushroom fields, over the crystal wall and into the head of the captain as it peeked out. The air-infused missile drilled a hole right through the creature¡¯s face and burst out the back of its skull. It fell backwards off the wall and onto some unfortunate worker goblins causing them to cry out in shrill screams tinged with annoyance, pain and no small amount of fear.

    ¡°Bullseye! Right in the head!¡± Fritz announced.

    Sid grinned in satisfaction, seemingly she had gotten used to the long range. They were about one hundred and fifty feet from the wall, not including the height difference. The first couple of arrows had missed but she had quickly adapted, and even if she couldn¡¯t tell the difference between the constantly milling goblins she could absolutely still put an arrow where Fritz directed.

    Fritz didn¡¯t know the effective range of bows as they were seldom used in the wet alleys and cobblestone streets of Rain City but it seemed not to matter much with the addition of Wind Strike and Sid¡¯s prodigious Agility and Grace. The only bottleneck to their strategy was Mana and Stamina, like it had been before they climbed up to rest on the overhang, but Fritz felt they had some time before they were assaulted by the fort¡¯s disgusting inhabitants.

    And even if we were charged. How would they get us all the way up here? Fritz mused as he searched the, definitely unwashed, masses for Sid¡¯s next target. Spotting a shaman trying to cross the courtyard with a retinue of warriors he called out, ¡°Bottom right, near the wheelbarrows.¡±

    Sid sat and shook her head, grumbling out something about being exhausted while Bert was swinging his legs as they dangled over the cliff¡¯s edge.

    And so the day went, picking off the leader goblins and resting between the arrows. Fritz took some time to fix up his damaged equipment and study the strange motes of blue-green still dancing up and down Quicksilver¡¯s core. The mending of his scale shirt was a pain with only one hand but he was able to stitch together the rents and tears with a little help from Bert. The sword however had no marks of damage, save those three tarnished spots from snail blood and even Bert seemed interested in its new swirling colours.

    ¡°Maybe it ate or absorbed the eldritch fire?¡± Fritz theorised, he thought he could feel a familiar heat through the blade''s makeshift hilt of wrapped cloth and his burnt hand twinged in with an echo of the weird searing flame. He suspected that if he wanted to he could pull the fire free or force his blade to ignite. Had his fish blade become a Treasure? A magical sword? No, it was probably just storing the magic somehow, with some strange property monster parts were likely to possess.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t it do something like that with my Wind Strike?¡± Sid said wiping her damp hair out of her eyes. Bert shrugged, he seemed happier to whistle a jaunty tune than to join in on any speculation.

    Fritz nodded eagerly saying ¡°You¡¯re right, I forgot all about that, seems like an age ago honestly.¡±

    ¡°It does seem like that,¡± Sid agreed with a tired sigh.

    They lapsed into silence, but not an awkward one like some of the many others before. He hoped it would stay that way. Fritz still wondered what in the abyss he had been thinking, trying to kiss Sid in that cold cave. He shook his head and looked away from her face as a confusing cascade of conflicting impulses fluttered in his chest.

    He echoed her sigh, more in frustration than weariness and waited for her Mana to recover.

    The hours passed like this, Fritz picking out a target and Sid slaying them with an expertly placed arrow. On her ninth of such long-ranged kills, Sid let out a gasp and Fritz blurted out, ¡°What''s wrong? Are you hurt?¡±

    ¡°No, I just felt.. something... in my Sanctum, give me a minute,¡± Sid said breathlessly as she sat and retreated into her Sanctum.

    She was back with bright blue eyes and a wide grin on her face and she near shouted, ¡°I discovered a Technique!¡±

    ¡°What!?¡± Fritz and Bert yelled back in shock.

    Sid beamed.

    Fritz was the first to start the questions, ¡°What¡¯s it called? What¡¯s it do?¡±

    ¡°It''s called Syl...uh Sid¡¯s Soaring Sharpshooting¡­ Novice,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°You discovered a self-taught, no, a self-named Technique?¡± Fritz said slack-jawed and completely stupefied.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Sid said with clear confidence.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could do that,¡± Bert said. ¡°I take it that its not common?¡±

    ¡°What!? Gods no! Of course it''s not common,¡± Fritz said. ¡°It¡¯s incredibly difficult, it takes great care, knowledge and talent to create or modify a Technique.¡± He was still reeling from Sid¡¯s declaration, his general respect for her skill being replaced with a slight awe.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Bert said, eyeing Sid warily. ¡°Does that mean Sid¡¯s some kind of genius?¡±

    ¡°Bert, I¡¯m sorry to say. That¡¯s exactly what that means,¡± Fritz said in an overly grave manner.

    ¡°But that would make us the crew¡¯s idiots,¡± Bert said aghast.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± Fritz intoned.

    ¡°Both a genius and a hero, what next? A beauty?¡± Bert blurted out.

    ¡°Bert, you fool, have you not looked? She has been a beauty all along!¡± Fritz cried out theatrically.

    ¡°Stop, Fritz!¡± Sid yelled furiously, her face getting redder by the minute.

    Fritz realised he had been caught up in the excitement and Bert¡¯s performance and that he¡¯d gone too far in his teasing.

    Bert seemed ready to continue the compliment barrage but Fritz shook his head slightly, warning him to stay silent.

    ¡°Ah. Sorry Sid, got a bit carried away. Just surprised and thrilled for you,¡± Fritz explained.

    ¡°Well, it feels like you¡¯re mocking me... When you say all that stuff,¡± Sid said through her scarf.

    ¡°I meant every word wholeheartedly,¡± Fritz said earnestly.

    ¡°That might be worse,¡± Sid mumbled so low that Fritz suspected that only he could hear her soft voice.

    Sensing the tension brewing Bert coughed and asked, ¡°What does the Technique do?¡±

    ¡°Increases accuracy from long distances with slings and bows, also reduces the Air-Mana cost of Air aligned Abilities when they¡¯re used with slings and bows,¡± Sid explained, pointedly not looking at Fritz.

    ¡°Whoa, that¡¯s good,¡± Bert said, to which Fritz agreed with a nod.

    ¡°How much does it reduce the cost?¡± Fritz asked.

    Sid shrugged, ¡°Don¡¯t know, just got the Technique didn¡¯t I?¡± She answered, obviously annoyed.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Fritz said, deflating at her rebuke.

    They sat in an awkward silence until, suddenly, Fritz heard the horn calls change. The chaotic notes rang out shrilly, warbling out what might be an inexpert call to arms.

    Fritz turned his gaze to the goblin fort¡¯s walls, over its ramshackle houses and its tall tower. The horde of goblins had stopped their fearful swarming and had begun to lash out at the warriors who in turn looked for their captains and shamans for orders. As planned they couldn''t see any of their commanders around. They must be hiding from Sid¡¯s arrows, Fritz thought with a wicked smile.

    There was a great bellow from the tower and the Chief in his glittering crystal armour strode into view on its unfinished roof. The warriors, knowing an order when they heard one, retreated to encircle and protect the base and bar the entrance of the crystal tower. They raised their shields and cut down all those between them and their objective. They clustered around the tower, shields high and screaming and slashing at any that got too close. Which in the shoulder-to-shoulder confines meant at least a hundred of the thronging workers were hacked to pieces or trampled in the chaos.

    The workers scurried back, out of the reach of the warriors swords, picked up their tools and yelled at their oppressors. Chunks of glowing crystal were flung at the warriors, but bounced harmlessly off the shield wall. There was still a three-foot space between the warrior''s formation and the swarm of workers, they glared at each other from their respective lines. Both sides were boiling, ready to fight, tear and kill in a furious rage. The Chief scowled, barked an order to its bodyguards and left the tower¡¯s precipice.

    Probably retreating to the safety of its throne room. Coward, Fritz surmised.

    ¡°This is our cue,¡± Fritz said as he watched the riotous events unfold with startling speed. ¡°We have to get down there and attack when they''re too weak and tired from fighting each other.¡±

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    Bert nodded and Sid stood up again, brushing terracotta dust from the back of her pants.

    ¡°Should we use the rope?¡± Bert asked. ¡°Tie it to me so you two can slide down, then I¡¯ll just make the climb again. Won''t be hard with my Strength.¡± He added flexing his bicep.

    Fritz glanced down over the cliff and shuddered. ¡°Sure but even with the rope it''s still something like a ten-foot fall, that could still hurt us.¡±

    ¡°I have Wind Step, I¡¯ll use it to slow me down,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Your ring,¡± Bert reminded him.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how effective the barrier is against falls,¡± Fritz hedged.

    ¡°Good a time as any to find out,¡± Bert said while Sid nodded along in agreement.

    Fritz clenched his fists and anxiously looked over to the raging goblin rebellion, deciding haste should outweigh their caution he gave his nod and agreement.

    In next to no time Fritz was slipping down the dark rope in a controlled manner until he reached its knotted-off end, dangling around twelve feet from the rocky floor. It wasn¡¯t the tallest place he had jumped from, he had leapt from many a tenement roof when he was young but he knew he was far heavier than he had been back then. With his current stature he might hurt himself, perhaps not badly from such a small fall, but even a sprain would slow him down and that was something they couldn¡¯t afford.

    Sighing he used the barrier ring, heard the soft hum of its activation and took in a deep breath, then he let go, dropping like a stone. The near-invisible second skin popped just before he hit the ground. He expected the jarring thud as his boots met the stone below, but it was a far softer landing than it had any right to be, the barrier seeming to have taken a lot of the force from his descent.

    He waved and smiled up at Bert and Sid as they looked over the ledge, he thought he could see them let out breaths of relief. He almost felt offended and their complete lack of faith, but to be honest he wasn¡¯t completely sure about the plan either so he let it slide, this time.

    Sid was next, sliding down the rope as gracefully as she did anything, Fritz had to tell himself not to stare at her legs as they wrapped and squeezed the rope. She reached the bottom quickly, and let go even quicker, falling until she was three feet from the ground then kicking off of a sheet of hard wind that solidified under her foot.

    It slowed her considerably and then she landed lightly with a slight thud. She smiled at Fritz confidently and he said, ¡°Well done, delightful show.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t a show,¡± Sid stated as her smile took on a vicious edge.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Fritz replied, holding his hand up placatingly.

    There was a yell from above. He realised it was Bert screaming, ¡°Out the way!¡±

    Fritz looked up rapidly and stepped back as Bert hurtled down from the overhang, with the rope still tied about his waist.

    Freezing fear gripped Fritz in his guts, holding him fast and he could only watch in horror as his friend fell the full fifty feet. Bert hit the stone feet first and threw himself into a forward roll. Fritz heard the sickening sounds of shattering bone and crunching cartilage. Bert screamed in pain as his uncontrolled tumble stopped and he lay in a crumpled heap with his limbs poking out in unnatural directions. His legs, ribs and back snapped and popped back into place and he screamed some more. Bert was eventually silent, passed out, even as his fingers cracked and straightened.

    Fritz and Sid looked on stunned and mortified.

    Fritz ran and was by Bert¡¯s side within seconds. He rolled his friend onto his back and lay his head on his chest, listening for a heartbeat. It was beating and it was beating strong. Fritz let out a long worried breath then said, ¡°He¡¯s going to be okay. I think.¡±

    ¡°Did he slip?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°I have the terrible feeling that he did not, in fact, slip. I have a certainty in my chest that he flung himself off the cliff in some idiot scheme to get down quicker.¡±

    ¡°Did someone say idiot?¡± Bert groaned, as his amber eyes opened wide. ¡°What did Fritz do?¡±

    Fritz scowled, ¡°You¡¯re the idiot, why in the abyss did you jump off the cliff?¡±

    ¡°I slipped,¡± Bert said his face going deadpan when it should be wincing, a definite tell.

    ¡°You did not, don¡¯t try to lie to me, and don¡¯t you dare say it was a quicker way down,¡± Fritz warned.

    Bert¡¯s bloody lips curled up into a smile then a mad grin stained with red, ¡°It was a quicker way down.¡±

    Fritz fought the urge to punch the dumb grin off his friend''s infuriating face. He stepped back and let out a breath willing his anger to leave with the exhalation.

    Sid scowled at Bert as he staggered slowly to his feet, ¡°What about; no unnecessary risks, did you not understand?¡± She growled.

    ¡°I deemed it necessary,¡± Bert said offhandedly, as he endured Sid¡¯s glare. ¡°We have to get moving.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to be slowed more by having to wait on your recovery than the time lost on you carefully climbing down. And. Why put yourself through the pain you idiot, you fool, you complete lunatic,¡± Fritz berated.

    Bert wobbled on his feet and Fritz caught him under his arm as he began to sink to the ground.

    ¡°Urgh, I hate to admit it. But I think you may be right, Fritz,¡± Bert said his grin sharpening into a pained grimace. ¡°My legs are all messed up. The bones are fine and dandy but my muscles feel like they¡¯ve been put through a mincer.¡±

    ¡°That tends to happen even when you survive such a fall, honestly I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re alive,¡± Sid said, ruffling through a bag tied to her belt.

    She held the health and stamina potions in her palm, looked between the two, then seemingly coming to a decision threw the vial containing yellow liquid to Bert.

    He caught it easily if somewhat sluggishly, and downed the Stamina potion. He immediately began to perk up, strength flowed into him and he stopped leaning on Fritz for support. He tested his recovery by walking a couple of steps, wincing as he did so.

    ¡°Ouch,¡± Bert intoned. But Fritz and Sid had little sympathy for him.

    ¡°It¡¯ll do for now, You¡¯ll have more time to recover as we walk,¡± Sid said coolly.

    They gathered their packs that they had hidden behind a boulder and shouldered them, Bert did so with an over-the-top moan of pain as he hefted up his overladen pack, to which Sid merely rolled her eyes.

    ¡°You could leave those glass horns behind to save yourself some pain,¡± Fritz suggested.

    ¡°No,¡± Bert replied, staggering on with grim determination.

    With nothing else to add or any will to argue Fritz shrugged and led the way into the mushroom field. They weren¡¯t far away from the fort and it only took three or four minutes to reach the wall¡¯s outskirts. Luckily for them, the warriors were glaring inwards, protecting the wall¡¯s walkways from their oppressed kin with warning stabs or just by knocking them off the battlements with their shields. They were looking haggard, the brief stint of fighting exhausting their weedy malnourished-looking frames.

    Fritz suspected that goblins weren¡¯t made for drawn out fights, more for sneaking and using hit-and-run tactics or their overwhelming numbers to win their battles. Something the warriors were now on the wrong side of and suffering for.

    ¡°Think you can sling those guys?¡± Fritz asked motioning to the warriors holding the wall.

    ¡°Already on it,¡± Sid stated as she whirled up her weapon.

    It was hard to hear the snap and crack of the slung stone and its impact over the blaring of horns and goblin shrieking, but it was easy to see the warrior falling forward as a stone was embedded into the base of its skull.

    ¡°Nice,¡± Fritz whispered. However skilled she had come into the Spire she had grown even more so by climbing this high with them. She¡¯ll be a true terror on the outside, Fritz suspected, I suppose Bert and I will be too. Fritz smiled and another goblin fell.

    ¡°What''s the plan?¡± Bert asked loudly. Fritz motioned them back away from the wall so they could plan their assault.

    ¡°A tricky question, are we feeling like a quick run through the riotous rabble into the Stairway? I¡¯m almost positive it¡¯s in the fake Spire. Or would we like to mug the Chief first and make off with its treasure, then run away into the Stairway?¡± Fritz asked.

    Bert smiled, and Fritz knew he had him as soon as he said mug the Chief. Sid seemed to think for some moments as she put another stone into the leather strap of her sling.

    ¡°Big Fish, small fish?¡± Fritz prodded.

    ¡°Big fish,¡± She replied easily, then glared at him as if she¡¯d been tricked. Fritz smirked. Then Sid seemed to think the question over again and nodded, repeating her previous answer seriously, ¡°Big fish.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going over this wall, we¡¯ll use my rope to make it an easy climb. Then once we¡¯re on the wall we need Bert to clear a path through the horde, with copious amounts of acid maybe,¡± Fritz explained. ¡°Then Sid and I break through the warriors and get to the base of the tower, Bert follows us once we break the tower¡¯s gate.¡±

    ¡°How will we break the metal gate?¡± Sid asked.

    Fritz pointed to his fish blade and said, ¡°I¡¯ll saw through its bars, it''s only painted mushroom wood, not metal.¡±

    ¡°Huh, you can tell that?¡± Sid said curiously.

    ¡°Mhm, don¡¯t know what but it has a feeling of...trickery or deception, so I¡¯m assuming it''s not real metal,¡± Fritz supplied tilting his head this way and that.

    ¡°You¡¯re assuming, that doesn¡¯t seem smart,¡± Sid retorted.

    ¡°Well, have you seen any metal on this floor?¡± Fritz asked pointedly.

    Sid shrugged then shook her head, ¡°I haven¡¯t. Only mushroom and crystal.¡±

    Fritz smiled saying, ¡°It''s a fair assumption then,¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Sid agreed.

    ¡°If it is real metal. I¡¯ll just rust it away, with my spray,¡± Bert said. ¡°Hey, that rhymed. Fritz, write that down.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Sounds like a bare-bones plan,¡± Sid stated cautiously.

    ¡°No, we left the bear bones behind in the cave,¡± Bert joked through his aches

    ¡°Best the plan be simple unless you have anything you¡¯d like to add,¡± Fritz offered, ignoring Bert¡¯s comment.

    Sid suppressed a chuckle and pondered for some seconds before stating, ¡°Nothing comes to mind.¡±

    ¡°Knock that last warrior down and let''s go,¡± Fritz said unfurling his rope and tying its end in a loop.

    ¡°On my mark.¡±

 Chapter 48

    The last of the grey-skinned monsters manning, no goblining, the small section of wall fell. Fritz leapt into action, rushing the spiked, ramshackle mushroom and crystal fort with Sid and Bert following fast on his heels.

    He unfurled his rope and threw it high, letting it fly over the battlements with its loop catching on one of the more prodigious spikes. He pulled the rope taut and clambered up the wall¡¯s sheer and sharp surface, making sure not to skewer his soles.

    Fritz pulled himself over the wall¡¯s lip, managing to graze his arm, but suffering no other injury. As soon as he had his feet on the walkway he drew out his bone dagger from his belt and fended off a worker goblin with a thrusting jab into its prominent ribs, he swiftly kicked the now dead body off his blade and into the horde below. Fritz stepped to the right as Bert came over the wall, lunging left and punting a goblins head clean off its shoulder as it peeked over the wall¡¯s floor. Sid came up last, quickly slashing the arm off an attacking worker with her fin sword.

    ¡°Sid, get the rope!¡± Fritz ordered having forgotten the uselessness of his left hand when coming up with his plan. His mostly mental injury hadn¡¯t been enough to hinder him when climbing up but untying a knot was another thing entirely and he didn¡¯t much want to waste time or cut away more of his precious rope.

    Sid nodded and got to work.

    ¡°Bert, the acid if you would,¡± Fritz suggested as more screeching goblins began to turn their way hurling stones and crystal shards with amazing inaccuracy.

    The screeches of fury were replaced with shrieks of agony as the acid sprayed over the goblins in a wide arc. Bert¡¯s Ability seemed to last for about a second before the sour liquid stopped gushing from his palm. He let loose another jet of Corrosive Spray for good measure as the creatures ran from the caustic mist it left floating in the air. It was even more effective at clearing a path than Fritz had hoped it to be. The goblins took notice of the terrible pain their blistered and melting brethren were in and gave Bert a wide berth. They even went so far as to pull other workers in front of themselves as shields or just break completely, madly fleeing into the waiting weapons of the warriors.

    It was chaos, but one they could take advantage of. Bert ran on ahead into the sparse clouds of his Corrosive Spray before they fully dispersed, causing him to flinch slightly but push on through the searing suffering all the same. Fritz cursed under his breath but knew they had to stick to the plan, even if he didn¡¯t like seeing Bert hurt. ¡°I didn¡¯t tell him to do that, but it''s too late now,¡± He told himself, even as his voice was drowned out but the shrill clamour of the battlefield.

    Fritz waited for most of the mist to die down, a couple of moments at most, then activated his barrier ring, feeling the second skin slightly dull the world around him as he was enveloped. He ran forward, chasing after Bert as his friend sprayed another gout of acidic liquid. Fritz had to grudgingly admit, reluctant as he was, that the Caustic Spray had been a great choice for Bert, and by extension the crew. A truly terrifying Power, but one he knew was hard won.

    The goblins scattered out of their path, glaring at them warily and keeping on the defensive if not outright fleeing the towering humans. This held true until Bert met the line of warriors, who stood in disciplined ranks and were soaked by his Caustic Spray. The wall of shields sizzled and steamed. Fritz and Sid rushed to his side, the wind spun and an arrow speared through a pitted shield and into the goblin behind.

    That was enough to fracture the formation and Fritz and his crew charged, Sid slinging her bow onto her shoulder and pulling out a glowing baton from where it had been tucked into the quiver that she kept looped to her belt at her side. Bert hit the shield wall where it had faltered, breaking through with his enhanced strength and a fist pulsing with force. He had pushed through the first line and was now in the midst of the goblin ranks, wreaking havoc with quick compact punches. Sid ran in next, more menacing the warriors with her baton than trying to actually hit any of the goblins. But it was working spectacularly as the warriors stepped back, having obviously tasted the baton''s stupefying effect before and dreading its touch.

    Fritz was last into the fray but no less frantic as he slashed and stabbed with his bone dagger. He only caught a couple of unwary or distracted warriors, but when he did he cut vital veins and impaled important organs. In what seemed like hours but was likely only a minute Bert had breached the back line and Sid and Fritz had followed quickly behind him stabbing, hacking and slashing through the grey-skinned army the whole way. Fritz had taken a couple of scratches here and there and Sid¡¯s breastplate looked scuffed in places but they had made it through with nothing in the way of serious injuries.

    Bert of course braved the brunt of the assault but still took the least noticeable damage, a combination of his skill, agility and ridiculous toughness Fritz supposed. Not having much time to marvel at their success so far, Fritz sprinted ahead to the tower''s base, its bright glow bathing him in blue-white light as he reached its closed, tall gate. It was far less impressive than he had thought it to be. When he got to the dark gate, it was only about six feet tall, Sid might even bump her head on the door frame if she ran through without ducking slightly. He¡¯d mistaken its size as his frame of reference was the goblins around it and he¡¯d gotten used to and forgotten their lesser, diminutive stature.

    Not missing a beat Fritz put away his dagger, unslung his pack and retrieved his fish blade from its loop all in a flurry of precise, practised motion. Although he almost fumbled his sword when he felt the strange eldritch power twisting in the blade''s opaline core resonate with something in his Sanctum. He shook his head dispelling any thoughts on the matter, and focusing on the moment and the task at hand. Saw down the gate, think later, Fritz told himself as he set the biting edge of Quicksilver to the gate¡¯s grid-like bars.

    Fritz had been correct about the bars being painted dark like something that might resemble iron, but was in fact mushroom. He had, however, been less correct about how easy it would be to saw through the tough shafts. He struggled with the first section for a moment before he was able to notch the hard wood-like substance, luckily once it was cut it was far easier to get the sawing motion right and he was through the first bar within a couple of seconds, which would¡¯ve been nothing when staking out an estate, but in a battle was far too much time to be wasting.

    ¡°Need help,¡± Fritz called out.

    Then Sid was there, cracking the bars with overhead swings of her baton. Fritz kept cutting and sawing away the damaged pieces of the gate while Bert protected the rear, fending off any of the warriors that challenged their position. After a minute of fierce work and fighting Fritz had cut a hole big enough for them to use if they ducked, he did so leading the way into and up the tower¡¯s slanted and irregularly tilted steps.

    They were through, up and climbing, Bert keeping an eye out behind them, but none of the goblin warriors followed, they were either too afraid of the humans might or of facing their Chieftain''s fury at their failure.

    The tower''s interior was bright, light pulsed and gleamed through the crystal walls and floor, lines of radiant energy zipped by, threatening to dazzle the senses in a prismatic display. Fritz shook himself out of his stupendous wonder and shook Sid and Bert as they stood fascinated by what they saw. Sid grunted, and Bert grumbled but they kept moving, finding the staircase up easily.

    Not giving the fantastic sight another moment''s thought or appreciation they continued up the tower.

    There were still warriors, captains and one shaman patrolling or hiding in the myriad rooms and warren-like hallways of the fake spire, but they stood as no threat to Fritz and his crew. The goblins quickly found themselves stabbed in the throat, having their heads caved in by Bert¡¯s mighty fists or stunned by Sid¡¯s baton and easily finished off. No, the greatest danger was traps. Many arrow, spike pit and tripwire alarms were scattered haphazardly in the narrow halls and staircases of crystal. None were able to foil Fritz¡¯s senses though, and he led his fellows onward, toward the Stairway.

    His Door Sense led them up and up, until on the ninth-floor landing the trilling pulled his attention to the left and down the brightly lit hall that ended with a heavy door flanked by two guards. The two goblins were wearing what was probably the highest quality armour the fort could provide, made with piecemeal mushroom and crystal plates and accompanied by large slabs of mushroom wood.

    The door guards spotted the trio immediately and raised their weapons, long rods of radiant crystal while hefting their overlarge shields in front of their noticeably taller and more muscled bodies. Well muscled for goblins at least, Fritz thought as the guards locked shoulders and shields.

    ¡°Bert,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°On it,¡± Bert replied grinning and dropping his pack to the ground.

    He sprinted down the hallway, his golden mop of hair trailing behind him. Bert leapt into a dive over the goblin¡¯s shields and heads, narrowly avoiding the glowing rods that poked at him, with a spinning motion in mid-air and landing behind them in a roll. Bert was quick to his feet, and far faster to turn than his opponents. He swept the legs out from under the goblin to his left, then struck the other with a rippling punch with a motion so clean it almost looked like it had barely hit the creature''s temple.

    The blow had struck though, and hard, as evidenced by the goblins skull exploding like a dropped keg of ale and splattering the bright wall with dark green blood and chunks. The other prone guard scrabbled on the ground abandoning its tower shield and trying to stand. Bert was on it in a moment kicking at its head, which it attempted to dodge by ducking forward. Unfortunately for the goblin, Bert¡¯s swift kick connected with its neck instead, killing it instantly with a thud and a crack, like snapping a branch.

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    Bert stood there and shrugged, then motioned for the other two to hurry up.

    ¡°You know, I wanted you to use Corrosive Spray on them. But I¡¯m barely even mad, that was far more effective,¡± Fritz said impressed.

    ¡°And fearsome,¡± Bert added smugly.

    ¡°And fearsome,¡± Fritz agreed.

    ¡°Also there were no screams,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Yes, the screams, they do tend to grate,¡± Fritz mused aloud.

    ¡°I dunno, I just tend to zone them out,¡± Bert said blandly.

    ¡°I mean, so we¡¯re not given away by all the racket,¡± Sid said seriously.

    ¡°Yes, that too,¡± Fritz said.

    Bert nodded his head at the door and said, ¡°Trapped?¡±

    Fritz focused on the crystal-reinforced door but felt no warnings trill in his mind, ¡°Seems safe enough. Though, what¡¯s on the other side will be the real danger. The Stairway is close but this also looks like an important room, what with the well-equipped guards and all, no doubt the Chief will be close or even in this room,¡± Fritz espoused.

    ¡°Tactics?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Bert, spray any guards, Sid and I focus on the Chief or any captains or leaders one at a time, got enough for a wind strike?¡± Fritz said

    ¡°One,¡± Sid answered.

    ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t used any Abilities yet but all this running and fighting has left me about three spell casts,¡± Fritz informed his crew. ¡°If the Stairway is in there we flee into it on my command or if I fall, got it?

    ¡°Got it,¡± Sid said gruff as ever.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Bert said sceptically.

    ¡°Fine pull me out if you must, Bert, but if I¡¯m dead leave me and take my pack,¡± Fritz ordered while Bert looked at him aghast as if he had read his mind.

    Fritz glared at him until Bert grumbled out, ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°What about the Chief''s Treasure? You said it might be a sound-based compulsion. Should we cover or plug our ears?¡± Sid suggested.

    Fritz thought for a moment, recalling all he knew of such things, which turned out to be surprisingly little.

    He nodded, ¡°It can¡¯t hurt, any ideas on how should we do that?¡±

    ¡°Rags?¡± Sid said pulling a couple of strips from her pack and handing them out.

    Fritz took the cloth and rolled it tightly into something that could stick in his ear, plugging it and muffling the sounds from that side. He continued with the other, dampening his sense of hearing somewhat but not completely. It seemed that his Perception Attribute had enhanced his senses enough that it felt like he could almost hear as well as he could before he had aligned his first Attributes.

    He pulled out the cloth plugs and shook his head, Sid pulled one from her ear and turned to him asking, ¡°What''s wrong?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll work for me. My Perception is too high, can hear fine when my ears are plugged,¡± Fritz said sighing and putting on an air of disappointment he didn¡¯t actually feel.

    ¡°Oh, woe is you. My Attributes are too high, boo hoo,¡± Bert mocked.

    Sid smirked and Fritz joined her.

    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to hope I can shake it,¡± said Fritz.

    ¡°If anyone¡¯s going to shake it, it¡¯ll be me,¡± Bert said as he danced for a second, moving his hips with a quick shimmy.

    That brought a laugh to the whole crew. It settled down quickly when Fritz motioned at them to quiet down, worried that the goblins beyond might hear through the heavy door.

    He listened for a moment but heard nothing. He sighed in relief, the last thing they needed was for the Chief to be aware of their assault.

    ¡°Last thing, since you two will be deafened I¡¯ll conjure my Illusory Shadow as the signal to flee through the Stairway. So keep an eye out. Anything else?¡± Fritz asked.

    The others shook their heads.

    ¡°Well, Bert my boon companion, the door¡¯s all yours,¡± Fritz said and they put their earplugs in.

    Bert sidled up the door, pulled its handle down and attempted to push the door open with his shoulder. He thudded against it softly but the door stayed shut.

    Barred, Fritz realised at the same time his friend did. Bert stepped back a pace and braced himself, then his leg rippled with nigh invisible energies and he kicked the door with all his might. Something let out a loud crack beyond the barred door. Fritz heard accompanying noises of startled high voices and Bert wreathed his leg in pulsing force again. With a step and a spin, he kicked again, right in the same splintered place.

    This time the door burst inward with a bang then a thud and a yell. The mushroom door bounced back when it slammed into a goblin guard¡¯s face and knocked the staggering creature sprawling to the floor. Bert pushed through the swinging door and stepped into the room beyond, right onto the goblin¡¯s armoured chest as it tried and failed to sit up. With the guard pinned under his foot, Bert searched the area and held up his hand palm out and to the left, showering another goblin with his Corrosive Spray.

    Fritz followed in behind Bert, and quickly ducked under a scintillating rod swung from his right and aimed at his friend''s back. Fritz stabbed up and to the side with his bone dagger catching a guard in the gap between its crystal plate, plunging the curved point deep into its armpit and piercing its lung. He was tempted to activate his blade¡¯s curse but decided not to waste it on this gasping, grasping goblin.

    He pulled his dagger free from the goblin¡¯s side as it struggled to get away from him, its wound bubbling and softly hissing with its breath. Fritz took a moment to survey the situation. Spotting the Chief sitting in its shining, glittering crystal throne at the end of the room with another ten guards arrayed around it. Scratch that. Nine, he amended as one fell from a well-placed sling stone that crushed its windpipe, sending it kneeling and clutching uselessly at its ruined throat.

    A pulling sensation tugged his eyes to just beyond the throne and Fritz saw the Stairway in all its green-marbled majesty, just twenty feet away taunting him with how close it was.

    Bert finished off the goblin he had been standing on with a stomp of his heel breaking the creature¡¯s head apart like a crisp apple being juiced.

    Fritz began to charge at the throne then the Chief stood, pointed his ringed hand and in a dark, deep voice spoke, ¡°Stop!¡±

    A golden ring bejewelled with dark gems of purple, softly pulsed with grey and the order echoed around the room in a thrumming wave, staggering human and goblin alike. Fritz tripped as he couldn¡¯t compensate for his momentum and he fell face-first onto the glittering ground. There was a crack as he hit the floor hard and his nose burst into near-blinding pain, spurting blood and staining the clear crystal crimson. All remained still save the goblin chief as it stepped forward from its throne and pulled its crystal sword free from its sheath revealing its burning bright blade.

    Fritz threw off the weight that pushed down on his body and mind and rapidly rose. Thankful he hadn¡¯t fallen on the point of his own dagger, he rushed at the Chief, intent on stopping it from using its Treasure again. It looked at him with a scowl that might have hidden mild surprise, its flaming eyes alight with malice and it pointed its horrible, bone-like finger directly at his chest.

    ¡°Kneel,¡± The pale Chief spoke again in deep, guttural tones. The ring darkened again with magic, this time though the grey pulse was focused on Fritz rather than the room at large.

    He world went fuzzy at the edges and Fritz obeyed, slamming his knees brutally against the hard crystal of the floor and feeling like they would shatter from the impact. Kneeling he let out a hiss of pain.

    The Chief grinned, displaying its cruel mouth filled to the brim with mismatched, blackened, needle-like fangs. It giggled low and dark, a sound that put Fritz¡¯s ears on edge and made his stomach sink.

    He struggled against his own clenched muscles as they refused his control and twitched violently. Around him he could see his crew stir, fighting off the Chief''s command. The pale goblin saw his eyes flicker to his companions and turned to observe them without any haste, as if everything was under its Power, in its demesne and nothing could hurt it here.

    When it saw Bert slowly moving an arm, the Chief spoke again, ¡°Stay!¡±

    Again a pulse of near imperceptible grey magic washed over the room as the word reverberated in his body and mind, ringing in his ears and stiffening his joints. It seemed to have redoubled the effect on his crew and they stood unmoving as did all the guards caught up in the compulsion.

    Fritz fought with everything he had against the mental bonds but they were unyielding.

    The Chief turned its attention back to Fritz and strode over to stand before him. It brought up its radiant crystal sword with that same deliberate grace he had seen before, taking all the time it needed to place the cut perfectly.

    It spat a word from its mad, gnashing grin. The sound held a sentiment Fritz knew quite well, no matter the language, ¡°Die.¡±

 Chapter 49

    The goblin Chief towered over Fritz¡¯s kneeling form its burning-bright blade held high. The creature trembled with giddy delight and giggled darkly as its radiant sword swung down in a terrible, effortless arc.

    Fritz pushed against the compulsion bearing down on him. The force that bade him stay still and held his body rigid tremored but held. He felt the taut mental bonds that held him had tightened where he had pushed but they had loosened across the other parts of his body. A plan came to mind instantly but he didn¡¯t have time to enact it, no, no time at all. He could already feel the heat of the blade on his cheek as its brightness blinded him on that side. He knew he couldn¡¯t move in time, but could he use his magic?

    In a panic he called on his very first Ability, pitting his will against the crystal floor under the Chief''s bare and oddly long foot. The crystal resisted but shifted all the same causing the Chief to stagger as its crude stance slipped. It wasn¡¯t enough, though he had diverted the blade by a couple of inches it was still coming down on his shoulder. Better than my neck, Fritz thought but still a deadly wound.

    But now that he knew his magic worked, he activated his ring. The Chief¡¯s sword was mere inches from cutting into him but was shunted suddenly to the side by the abruptly appearing then bursting barrier. The blade struck the ground in front of Fritz, sparking as it scored then stuck into the crystal below. The Chief barked, spitting out furious syllables as it attempted to pull its sword free.

    Fritz used the time he bought from his little trick to fight against his mental bonds a second time, focusing on the force around his legs, knees and feet. His efforts shook the energy of the compulsion more heavily than his last attempt, but the constricting power was too strong to break completely. His legs twitched and the goblin Chief noticed, glowering it pulled again on its still-stuck scintillating sword. It failed again to yank out the sword. Frustrated it sent its free hand darting forth and the Chief rapidly wrapped its long, pale and surprisingly warm fingers around Fritz¡¯s throat. It squeezed.

    ¡°Got you,¡± Fritz growled. The goblin''s grip tightened and he choked on his growing smirk and gloating words.

    With another flare of effort Fritz twisted and squirmed his will into the tips of his fingers, then outwards into his hand and up his arm. His Control slipped through the invisible bindings like an eel in a too-loose net. He acted, slashing his dagger upwards at the goblin''s wrist. As he swung Fritz activated both his daggers curse and his own Gloom strike. The dark, bitter malices fought each other as they coated his bone blade, their discordant energies clashing in an inaudible wail at the edge of his senses.

    For a moment Fritz was afraid that the Chief would notice the sputtering shadows and that the cold curse roiling, rioting over his dagger would give his strike away. But his arm swept up unseen and the bone blade cut into and through the Chief''s wrist with surprising ease. The grip on Fritz''s neck relaxed somewhat but remained tight, somehow still clenched even without it being connected. The Chief glared into Fritz¡¯s eyes with its candle flame irises and giggled darkly, obviously enjoying his strangled torment.

    The creature frowned when it noticed its ringed hand didn¡¯t obey its intent. It stepped back from Fritz leaving its severed appendage behind. A look of dawning horror and black fury stretched its already hideous features into a rictus mask of gnashing, mad rage. Its own mismatched, needle teeth cut into its thin lips and it bellowed bloodily.

    Fatigue and a small amount of fear set in, but Fritz was too elated by the success of his gambit to pay those feelings any heed. Now that his arm was free of the mental bonds he pulled at the steadily weakening force. The goblins and his crew seemed also to be breaking out of the Chief¡¯s command. Sid was quickest to do so and jerkily put her fin blade to a guard''s exposed throat and drew it across slowly, even as the goblin watched on and twitched viciously. Then suddenly; all were able to move again. The battle resumed with a flurry of movements and renewed yells, shrieks and giggles.

    Fritz fought off and squirmed out of the last of the compulsion holding him, jumped to his feet and cast his Illusory Shadow over the Chief¡¯s throne. His crew took notice and rushed the Stairway that was behind the throne and cut into the back wall. Sid slipped and weaved; Bert ducked and dodged; past the goblin guards and their shimmering weapons. The Chief goblin charged at Fritz, it had finally managed to pry its sword free in its mad rage and was swinging it in vicious sweeps heedless of any goblins near it. One of its elite guard fell to its sizzling blade as Fritz dived under a swift slash aimed at his head.

    He met the ground in a rolling motion that brought him to his feet, and he gallantly fled, leaving the Chief to mete out its fury on its own kin. Fritz raced past the goblins, jumping over their attacks or sliding under their strikes. As he passed the throne he spotted a dark mass right below the seat, sealed under the gleaming crystal.

    Fritz¡¯s mind immediately leapt to the Treasure chest in the Glass Bull room, and he was sorely tempted to stop and see if he could get to the prospective chest. He knew the Chief was after him as he could hear it shriek at him from behind, the goblins were going to close in at any moment, but he couldn¡¯t let this opportunity pass by.

    ¡°Big... Fish,¡± he grumbled out.

    He ducked around the back of the throne, kneeling again and putting the thick crystal between him and his pursuers. He was tired, exhausted even, and doubly so from all the Ability use, but he felt he had enough for one more casting left, even if it would leave him reeling.

    Setting his Control into motion, shaping the spell the way he wanted; he activated his Stone Pit, using its cool light to pull open a hole just big enough for the dark shape to fit through. Fritz¡¯s head swam but he was able to grab the bronze banded wooden chest. He pulled it to his breast and staggered up and towards the Stairway where Bert stood waiting, worry writ plain across his rugged features.

    Fritz took another step and he fell forward as the vertigo hit him, a burning bright flash flew over his head and he recognised it as the Chief¡¯s searing sword. It plunged into the right side of the Stairway¡¯s arch, just in front of him. His greed urged him to take the sword too, but his body barely responded, he clasped the wood of the chest tight as he felt hands grip him and drag him away. With all the spinning he couldn¡¯t tell which direction he was being pulled, but knew in his heart that he had pushed too far again. Always too far. And I will suffer for it. His vision darkened, and garbled words rumbled in his ears.

    ¡°The... hand, get...grip,¡± Sid¡¯s voice rang painfully in his ears.

    There was a grumble, the world started to retreat. Replaced with black, no, it was always black, colour was just an aberration, light a chaotic inevitability.

    Someone was slapping his face, he woke up. It wasn¡¯t the worst way to wake up as it was Sid slapping him, not Bert. The world came back into focus quickly, he must have passed out for a moment because they were still in the Stairway, he¡¯d been dragged out of the reach of the goblins, who stared and shrieked at them. Especially the Chief who pounded his good, and now only, hand on some invisible barrier that stopped him from entering the Stairway.

    ¡°He¡¯s awake!¡± Sid shouted. ¡°Come on, Fritz, get up!¡±

    Bert also yelled some words of encouragement but Fritz couldn''t quite hear them over the furious howls of the Chief.

    Fritz stood wearily. He was unsteady on his feet but let himself have the satisfaction of smirking and bowing to the Chief in a mocking farewell. The small chest he had been holding almost fell from his arm, but he thought he played it off well. He turned his back to the jabbering horde and strode, well, limped, up the stairs.

    When they were some ways up the staircase Sid asked, ¡°Where¡¯d the chest come from?¡±

    ¡°Under the throne, still got the Chief''s hand?¡± Fritz replied adding a question of his own.

    ¡°Nah, ditched it once we broke the ring off,¡± Bert said, holding up the golden ring adorned with dark purple gemstones. It glittered softly in the shadowed stairway.

    ¡°Nice job,¡± Fritz coughed. He wanted to rub the tension out of his neck but as he only had one good hand and it was preoccupied with his dagger and the bronze banded chest he had to let it wait.

    ¡°Yeah, that floor was fun. Hope we get another like it. Except without the mind magic, I don¡¯t like it much,¡± Bert mused.

    ¡°Well, next time I¡¯ll find a goblin fort without any Treasure-holding chieftains,¡± Fritz said blandly.

    ¡°That¡¯d be great, Fritz. I knew I did good when I fished you out of the gutter,¡± Bert eagerly reminisced.

    Fritz shook his head smiling at the memory.

    ¡°Where¡¯d the Chief even get the Treasure?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Maybe it opened a chest?¡± Fritz suggested too tired to think through the implications.

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t it open the one you¡¯re holding?¡± Bert said prodding Fritz in the back with a finger, urging him to climb the stairs quicker.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Keeping it for later?¡± Fritz didn¡¯t know why but as soon as he said it he thought he was on the right track.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know monsters could open chests,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°My father''s journal mentioned something along those lines,¡± Fritz explained. ¡°He thought it was an exaggerated Spire tale, like Faeries, but he may have been wrong.¡±

    ¡°This is the weirdest Spire I¡¯ve heard of,¡± Sid added. ¡°Not much about it has been normal. By all rights we should¡¯ve run into a floor that was not a complete deathtrap.¡±

    ¡°What about the Maze and Trap floors?¡± Bert countered.

    ¡°Woulda¡¯ killed us for sure without Fritz¡¯s Abilities,¡± Sid stated darkly. ¡°One wrong move and boom or splat.¡±

    ¡°What if Fritz just chose wrong?¡± Bert said.

    ¡°First of all; how dare you? Second of all; maybe,¡± Fritz supplied wearily, barely putting any effort into his feigned offence.

    ¡°Not likely,¡± Sid disagreed.

    Fritz nearly beamed from Sid¡¯s vote of confidence but could only manage a well-worn smirk.

    They plodded up the stairs, their panting slowly easing into heavy but steady breaths.

    Five minutes that felt like five hours later, they had reached the Well Room landing. Fritz looked about with the odd sense that he was being mocked. The room appeared to be a smaller, a much smaller, version of the cavern they had just fought through and fled from. Mushrooms carpeted the shallow basin¡¯s floor and in the centre was a miniature fort of crystal complete with a tower that was about the same height as his chin.

    The small fake Spire was resplendent with Power and pulsed with radiance. Fritz set the bronze chest down and his pack for good measure, then he trudged towards the small tower.

    ¡°New Ability, new Ability, new Ability,¡± Bert cooed in a singsong tone, pulling ahead of Fritz but unable to outpace Sid as she reached the Well first with her long striding grace.

    She effortlessly vaulted over the calf-height wall and placed her hand upon the crystal tower¡¯s dazzling surface, siphoning its Power into her own. Sid turned to Fritz and Bert and smiled, eyes twinkling, before she sat and plunged into her Sanctum.

    Bert got to the Well next and was sitting and falling into his Sanctum within moments. Fritz was left to watch, he knew it was probably safe but this was the last Well before the Precipice and the Spire had tried to drown them with a timed trap once before. Touching the glowing crystal himself he felt the lines of burning cold energy race up his arm and into his Sanctum where it mingled with his own radiance and was absorbed, adding to his growing Power.

    Where the small spark in his centre had been there was now a twinkling cool star the size of a fingernail. Fritz marvelled at its size. He had noticed it growing every time he ¡®drank¡¯ from the Wells but he hadn¡¯t really paid much attention to its increased intensity. He idly wondered how big the Sanctum in his centre would get, would it one day be as big as his fist? As big as his Head? As big as his whole body? How would it fit? He didn¡¯t know much about that, but he was sure it would.

    Musing on these thoughts he waited, attempting to relax as he sat with his back to the glowing crystal tower anxious and excited to receive his new Ability choices. Bert came out of his Sanctum first with a pensive cast to his rugged features. He glanced to where Fritz was sitting and his brow rose in surprise.

    ¡°Fritz? Why aren¡¯t you in your Sanctum?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Someone has to keep an eye out. Remember the trick on the second floor?¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°Oh yeah, forgot about that. Go see what you got, I¡¯ll watch now,¡± Bert ordered.

    With some trepidation and bracing breaths, Fritz readied himself for the pain in his arm to flare up. He let himself be pulled into the current of light in his centre and dove into his Sanctum.

    Fritz was greeted with pain and rain, his arm stung as the cool drops showered the burnt flesh of his arm. His hand and forearm still looked terrible, but most of the black char around his cooked flesh had healed into thickly blistered red skin. He could move it again, far more easily, but it was still agony to do so. With an effort of will he pushed the pain away and stopped examining his tormented limb.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Fritz focused on the Power swirling around his Sanctum in lines of bright white, almost like shooting stars. The choices manifested in his mind as he reached out to them, pulsing and booming across his thoughts.

    ---------

    Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Treasure Sense

    Is it pretty? Is it shiny? Is it made of jewels and gold?

    I can see it, I can touch it, it is mine to take and hold!

    Increases your aptitude in detecting objects of value and Treasure Chests to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have discovered and acquired three Treasure Chests.

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Ability (Trap Sense).

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Trait (Door Sense).

    ---

    Danger Sense

    Behind the boulder, up in the tree, the lurking threats, can¡¯t hide from me.

    Increases your aptitude in detecting imminent harm to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have detected dangers and avoided many of them.

    You have fought a battle against multiple monsters and did not receive damage.

    You have dodged a deadly blow many times.

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Ability (Trap Sense).

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Trait (Door Sense).

    ---

    Spell Shape

    Pull it this way, push it that way, magic sculpted as you say.

    Increases your aptitude in shaping your Abilities and Traits to a minor degree.

    You may increase the cost of an Ability to increase your Control over its shape and form.

    Alignment: Arcane.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have shaped your Abilities many times.

    You have sculpted your Sanctum.

    Control is Activated

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz nearly screamed. Not from the constant pain of his arm. No, it would have been from frustrated exaltation. Among his choices there were two Senses he desperately wanted and another passive that could seriously augment his Abilities. He decided to get away from the horrible distraction of his burnt arm and flew out of his Sanctum.

    He woke to the real world then brushed away the sweat beading on his brow and saw Sid and Bert looking at him worriedly.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz panted, finding himself strangely out of breath.

    ¡°You were groaning,¡± Sid stated. ¡°Like you were in pain.¡±

    ¡°Moaning,¡± Bert corrected. ¡°Like you liked it.¡±

    Fritz scoffed at Bert¡¯s comment.

    ¡°It didn¡¯t sound at all like he liked it,¡± Sid argued giving Bert a pointed glare.

    ¡°And how would you know that?¡± Bert asked annoyingly while raising an eyebrow suggestively ¡°You two been sneaking off together?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Sid said flatly. ¡°We know better than that.¡±

    Fritz winced, from a jolt up his arm, not at all from the hardness in her tone. Bert looked at him sympathetically and shrugged.

    ¡°Abilities?¡± Fritz interjected before anything more could be asked down that line of inquiry. ¡°Bert you first,¡± he added when no one volunteered quick enough.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Bert said with an eager grin. ¡°I got the choice of Corrosive Conditioning, Hardened Bones and Provoking Presence.¡±

    ¡°Well, I think I know which one you picked already,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Provoking Presence, the one that makes you even more annoying, no doubt.¡±

    Bert frowned in mock outrage, ¡°I haven¡¯t picked yet!¡±

    Fritz put on a display of being shocked to the core, fraudulently gawking at his friend.

    ¡°And it doesn¡¯t make me more annoying,¡± Bert explained. ¡°Well...actually... it does, but only to foes... probably,¡± he amended with a grin.

    ¡°What do the other two do?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°I presume, Hardened Bones is fairly self-explanatory,¡± Fritz commented, rapidly dropping his act.

    ¡°Uhh, yeah. Hardened Bones does harden my bones. Useless for me, my bones already mend themselves,¡± Bert espoused.

    ¡°Not useless,¡± Sid said. ¡°You would be spending less Stamina to repair your bones.¡±

    ¡°Plus, your fists could hit harder without being shattered. Not to mention it''s probably a lot less painful to have your bones, you know, not break all the time,¡± Fritz said with not a little exasperation.

    ¡°Hmm, I didn¡¯t think about being able to punch things even harder with Hardened Bones,¡± Bert said contemplatively. ¡°But, I¡¯m still leaning towards Corrosive Conditioning.¡±

    ¡°And what, pray tell, does that wonderfully alliterative Ability do?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s sorta similar to Acid Resistance. But not,¡± Bert explained unhelpfully.

    ¡°Would you like to elaborate?¡± Fritz suggested.

    ¡°Not really,¡± Bert replied.

    Fritz sighed. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth trying to get any information out of Bert. He supposed it was some sort of ¡®don¡¯t talk about it¡¯ attitude a lot of the thieves, thugs and other ne¡¯er do wells had, as secrecy and plausible deniability served as safety. But it was frustrating to deal with when it wasn¡¯t warranted, like here and now in the Spire.

    ¡°Let me rephrase that. Please elaborate, Bert,¡± Fritz entreated trying not to show his annoyance as that would just encourage the idiot to be even more secretive, just to aggravate him.

    ¡°Since you asked nicely, I will,¡± Bert said smugly. ¡°One second, I¡¯ll just go read it again.¡±

    He dived into his Sanctum and Fritz shook his head, and spoke to Sid as she stared on thoughtfully, ¡°He¡¯s always so secretive about the strangest things.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s cause I¡¯m here,¡± Sid said as if the topic didn¡¯t interest her.

    ¡°Nah, Bert trusts you. I can tell. Spires, I do too for that matter. You¡¯ve been worthy of that trust every step of the way too. Far more so than the others in our crew. I think he just does the whole secrecy thing to annoy me. Which it does mind you,¡± Fritz blandly ranted, trying to give the weighty grudges some air.

    Sid glanced over at Fritz with an unreadable, pensive expression cast over her features. She was about to speak but Bert popped back out of his Sanctum and said, ¡°Increases resistance to corrosive substances to a minor degree. Further Increases resistance to corrosive substances that you have been afflicted with before to a minor degree.¡±

    He then waited for Fritz and Sid¡¯s reaction to his seemingly word-for-word recitation.

    ¡°So it¡¯s Acid or Corrosive Resistance that¡¯s better against acid you¡¯ve already been melted by?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°It might be useful for your Corrosive Spray, but Abilities can be evolved to not harm their user,¡± Sid stated. ¡°I heard of a Fire Elementalist that evolved his Fireball so it wouldn¡¯t burn him.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. But there¡¯s one more line: Resistance can be increased from repeated exposure,¡± Bert proclaimed proudly.

    Sid lifted her eyebrows, she seemed actually impressed, ¡°Pretty powerful.¡±

    ¡°Quite the Ability,¡± Fritz said as he thought. ¡°So eventually you¡¯ll be immune to your own acid without having to evolve your Corrosive Spray. Very... effective and probably painful.¡±

    ¡°That seems to be the gist of it,¡± Bert said grinning. ¡°So which should I pick? Provoking Presence, for keeping enemies attention on me? Harder bones for punchin¡¯? Or the last and definitely the best one, Corrosive Conditioning?¡±

    Fritz thought on the conundrum for some moments and settled easily into Bert¡¯s own thinking. Corrosive Conditioning and Hardened Bones were about equal in Fritz''s estimation, both had intriguing potential synergies and Evolutions. Fritz would¡¯ve picked the bones but he knew Bert would pick the conditioning, he was just that sort of man.

    ¡°Go with what your heart says,¡± Fritz said dramatically.

    Sid scoffed, and said, ¡°Go with the conditioning, it¡¯ll be good to not have to worry about you melting yourself anymore.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad that you worry. But you need not, for I have already picked Corrosive Conditioning! This was a test!¡± Bert announced.

    Fritz groaned as his frustration and annoyance bubbled to the surface, ¡°A test of what? A test to see if we are as disastrously dim as you?¡±

    ¡°Exactly! And you both passed!¡± Bert laughed.

    Fritz couldn¡¯t help but smile at his friend''s antics and turned to Sid who sat there shaking her head with a small smile on her lips.

    ¡°How about you? What choices did you get?¡± Fritz asked her.

    She glanced at him and was about to speak when Bert blurted out, ¡°Oh no, Sid always picks second! Fritz should pick now, to make it fair.¡±

    Fritz frowned, then shrugged, supposing it was fine for him to go next.

    ¡°Well, I guess I am in need of some advice.¡±

 Chapter 50

    ¡°So,¡± Fritz started as he stood and paced within the small crystal walls of the miniature fort. ¡°I have three choices.¡±

    ¡°Really?!¡± Bert exclaimed in exaggerated surprise.

    Fritz frowned then realised he had, in fact, said something obvious, so he amended his previous statement, saying, ¡°What I mean to say is that I have three very good choices and I¡¯m torn between them.¡±

    ¡°And they are?¡± Bert said impatiently, motioning that Fritz should explain further and faster.

    ¡°The first one is Treasure Sense, pretty self-explanatory really, lets me detect Treasures and objects of value,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°What does ''objects of value'' mean?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°I have only the vaguest of ideas, probably gold and jewellery?¡± Fritz said shrugging. ¡°Doesn¡¯t really matter the better part is being able to find Treasure Chests easier instead of stumbling upon them as usual.¡±

    ¡°Might also stop you from blundering into the Treasure¡¯s protections as well,¡± Bert added unhelpfully.

    ¡°Could be true,¡± Fritz agreed begrudgingly. ¡°But that¡¯s where my next choice comes in, Danger Sense. It describes being able to detect imminent harm.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you already do that with your Awareness?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°A bit, but I believe they would strengthen each other,¡± Fritz replied thoughtfully. ¡°It would be helpful in shoring up my blind spots, such as stealthy monsters or other odder dangers that could be lurking. It also depends on what is considered as imminent harm, is it within a moment? A minute? Would it work on poisons?¡± He mused mostly to himself.

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Bert huffed.

    ¡°You can save a life, your life, in less than a second,¡± Sid stated.

    After a poignant pause, Bert asked, ¡°What''s your last choice?¡±

    ¡°Spell Shape, it would help me, well shape my Abilities. It even would even let me use more Mana to gain more Control of the spell,¡± Fritz recited from memory.

    The crew fell into thoughtful silence until Bert blurted out, ¡°Treasure Sense! More Treasures means more Power.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Sid yelled. ¡°Danger Sense, so he doesn¡¯t get killed on his ¡®scouting¡¯ missions.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine, he has been so far,¡± Bert said disingenuously. ¡°Think of the gold!¡±

    ¡°He has not been ¡®fine¡¯, and I wouldn¡¯t trade his health for gold. Even if it were as much as another bull¡¯s heart,¡± Sid argued.

    Bert grinned, ¡°Is that so? That¡¯s so sweet. Isn¡¯t it Fritz?¡±

    Sid¡¯s cheeks brightened and she pulled her scarf over her mouth and muttered something inaudible even to Fritz¡¯s sensitive ears.

    ¡°Oh yes, it''s the nicest thing someone has ever said about me,¡± Fritz said distractedly, still thinking on his choices and pointedly ignoring the warm fluttering in his stomach.

    ¡°I would sell you for a bag of gold,¡± Bert said with pride.

    ¡°No you wouldn¡¯t,¡± Fritz replied wearily.

    ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Bert admitted sourly. ¡°Couldn¡¯t bear losing a brother.¡±

    ¡°More likely that you couldn¡¯t find a buyer,¡± Fritz smirked back.

    ¡°Also true,¡± Bert said grinning. ¡°But enough with the talking. What Ability are you leaning towards?¡±

    Fritz took another minute to gather his thoughts and go over each ability as he remembered it. Treasure Sense was great, terribly rare but greedy, especially when compared to the other choices. He craved its promise of wealth but unfortunately it didn¡¯t offer any combat potential, which he still felt he sorely lacked.

    Danger sense was also good, it covered some of his weaknesses in detecting non-trap threats and would serve as a defensive Ability. If he was able to detect something even a split second ahead of its strike he could dodge out of the way causing whatever it was to either miss or hit something... less vital.

    Spell Shape was a good Ability, but it didn¡¯t really appeal much to Fritz. He suspected if he aligned more Control it would do the same thing, eventually. If he had a Magic Attribute it would rank much higher, as he could come up with some very tricky things to do with his Stone Pit and Illusory Shadows. However, the cost increase was something he couldn¡¯t use at the moment which really soured him on the Ability.

    He knew any spell focused Pather would kill for an Arcane Aligned Ability like Spell Shape, as it would influence further choices but Fritz couldn¡¯t bring himself to ignore his friends advice. It had to be Danger Sense, its utility and the chance it could save his life couldn¡¯t be ignored.

    ¡°Danger Sense,¡± Fritz announced to his crew.

    Bert booed him but Sid gave him a nod and her shoulders relaxed somewhat, he didn¡¯t notice until now how tense she had been holding herself. Fritz endeavoured to put her more at ease, he didn¡¯t know how to but he would try, somehow.

    ¡°Coward! Knave! Skulg-slime-slurping-squid-squeezer!¡± Bert accused. ¡°Think of the Treasure!¡± He lamented.

    Fritz shook his head at his friend¡¯s idiotic performance, he could see Bert didn¡¯t mean a thing he was yelling and was just trying to give him a hard time for picking the obvious choice. Fritz stopped his pacing and sat, falling into his Sanctum and feeling his arm light up in searing pain. He hurriedly harnessed the lines of Power spinning and streaking around his willow and chose.

    His perception subtly shifted, it felt like he could see more of the world, read between the lines of reality. Then the sensation was gone leaving him with a shard of understanding of a completely new but familiar Sense. It was alike Trap Sense in that he knew it was there like a loyal hound waiting to warn him of any threat to his mind, body or soul. The watchful presence both comforted him and put him on edge, now he was more alert than he¡¯d ever been.

    What was meant to be next? He asked himself through the distracting sense. Right, Attributes. What should I align? More awareness or perception? Let¡¯s bring Awareness up to eighteen to match Perception.

    Aligning all three of his points into Awareness the mysterious feelings and impressions he could vaguely sense intensified. His Sanctum spun a little as his consciousness got used to the new strain and he found himself getting lost in the myriad sensations that barraged him. Especially the pain in his arm. His willow grew even taller and its branches swayed and searched, feeling the breeze as if it were trying to interrogate it and pry out all the secrets whispered upon the wind.

    Spire sheet, he thought, and the silver glyphs came at his command more vibrant, solid and deeper than ever before.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 9

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 0

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 9

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 18

    Control: 9

    ---------

    Activated 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow¡¯s grace, deliver foes, to night¡¯s embrace.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    ---

    Danger Sense

    Behind the boulder, up in the tree, lurking threats, can¡¯t hide from me.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Twilight Kissed

    Perhaps a boon, perhaps a curse, you¡¯ll find out soon, which is worse.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    As he read the Spire Sheet he started to feel queasy and felt it hard to not be distracted by all the noise, all the colour around him and an odd, metallic droning emanating from the silver glyphs. Seeking an escape from the burning and dizzying spectacle of his own mental construct Fritz rapidly fled his Sanctum. He was nauseated when he surfaced and the glowing crystal felt too bright on his skin and the ringing in his ears tasted sour.

    ¡°Fritz, are you okay?¡± Bert asked. ¡°You look sick. Like you ate a month-old squid pie.¡±

    ¡°Just...too¡­ much... stuff,¡± Fritz said, motioning vaguely while trying to keep down his lunch. ¡°Let me adjust.¡±

    He stood and staggered away from the tiny fort and found somewhere dark and quiet to recover, an alcove that used to be the Stairway but was now just a shadowed hollow. He spent a couple of minutes focusing and filtering his Senses, fighting with his own powerful perception. Once he pulled his Awareness inward so he wasn¡¯t feeling the entire room all at once, the nausea receded and his head stopped swimming. Fritz sighed, relieved that the overwhelming impressions were only temporary and he hadn¡¯t permanently impaired himself.

    Next Well I need to align more Focus and Control, he told himself. I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll help deal with the sheer amount I¡¯m feeling and the strain on my mind.

    Fritz took this time to check on the condition of his burnt arm, removing his sweat-damp scale shirt and removing his arm from its sling. It ached when he moved it and it tingled painfully when he flexed his hand and fingers. It felt stronger, more dexterous, it was not at full functionality, still sluggish and clumsy. But he could hold his dagger without feeling he was going to drop it, his grip shook a little and his hand felt as though it had a deep muscle ache, but it worked, mostly.

    Smiling, he stood, wobbled as he strode forward, regained his balance and rejoined his eating crew.

    ¡°Chuck me some of that, would you?¡± He asked Bert, realising he was famished.

    ¡°Feelin¡¯ better?¡± Bert replied looking through his pack. ¡°Cat or Bear?¡±

    Fritz thought for a moment and decided to torture his tongue rather than his heart, ¡°Bear.¡±

    Bert threw him a steak and he caught it and took a big dusty bite.

    ¡°Decided on your Ability Sid?¡± Fritz said through mouthfuls of mealy meat.

    ¡°Just deciding between two of them, Wind Barrier or Tailwind,¡± Sid replied after drinking down some water.

    ¡°What was the third?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Sling Stone,¡± Sid said with a disappointed frown.

    ¡°I can see why that¡¯s not an interesting pick,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°What do the Wind Abilities do?¡±

    ¡°Wind Barrier creates a shield of air around me, lasts a minute or until destroyed. Tailwind is a Boon that increases how quickly and easily I can run for a minute,¡± Sid explained.

    ¡°You got Actives rather than Passives,¡± Fritz observed.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s random. Like Nic said,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Hmm. If I were in your shoes I might pick Tailwind, being able to outrun things is a pretty good defence. And it would synergise well with Fleet,¡± Fritz theorised.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°I would just do the opposite of what Fritz suggests,¡± Bert said offering his insulting opinion.

    ¡°Well it¡¯s up to you, of course, I can see the benefits of both,¡± Fritz said ignoring Bert¡¯s contrarian streak.

    ¡°I like the Barrier. I already have two speed-boosts with Wind Step and Fleet. Wind Barrier adds something new to my ¡®kit¡¯,¡± Sid said working through her thoughts.

    ¡°Good point, it¡¯ll also help against monsters with ranged Abilities. So I can¡¯t say I disagree,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°I could... but I¡¯d be lying,¡± Bert supplied.

    Sid nodded, quickly coming to her conclusion and sinking into her Sanctum.

    She was out in a couple of moments and smiled.

    ¡°What kind of rewards can we expect from the next Well?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Another Trait and a Path Ability Evolution,¡± Sid replied.

    ¡°Huh, thought it was just another Trait,¡± Fritz said offhandedly.

    ¡°Just another Trait,¡± Sid repeated blandly, obviously annoyed he was making light of such Power.

    ¡°You know what I mean, I didn¡¯t know that bit about the Path Ability,¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°Reaching the limits of your noble-boy tutoring?¡± Bert mocked.

    ¡°Yes, actually,¡± Fritz said bitterly.

    ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± Bert said dropping his grin and patting Fritz on the shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Fritz said, pushing away the sour feelings the reminder brought.

    ¡°We¡¯ve all chosen, when do we leave?¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Hang on!¡± Bert burst out. ¡°The Treasure chest needs to be opened!¡±

    Bert sprinted to where the chest sat on its side and lifted it easily, running back to Sid and Fritz leaping over the small wall as he did so.

    He set it down in front of himself giddy like a child with a Tolling Day present and said, ¡°This one''s mine to open right?¡±

    ¡°Of course, we¡¯ve already opened one each. Go ahead Bert,¡± Fritz offered magnanimously, he needn¡¯t have bothered because Bert was already opening the bronze banded chest before the words left his mouth.

    Fritz made to scowl but realised no one was paying attention. He was also more interested in what was brought out of the prismatic light now pouring out from under the wooden lid. The light settled and Bert took out the shiniest thing he saw first. It was a circular amulet of what looked like burnished brass set with a duo of opaque lime-green stones, one of which had a warm yellow light flickering softly within.

    ¡°Shiny,¡± Bert said slipping the brass chain over his head and displaying it by puffing out his broad chest. ¡°Does it suit me?¡± He said fluttering his eyelashes. Fritz rolled his eyes agitated that it did indeed go well with his golden locks.

    Sid giggled and said, ¡°Very fetching.¡±

    A small spark of irrational anger flashed in Fritz''s chest but was gone in a moment.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Bert responded, flicking his hair out of his face and grinning. He reached into the chest again pulling out the rest of the items.

    There were a pair of black boots, a well-made dark blue cloak, a set of hard leather gloves and a sky blue silk pouch with a silver drawstring that was stuffed with twelve gold triads. More wealth than he¡¯d ever seen in one place since he was exiled from the orphanage, not counting the bull¡¯s heart of course. Out next were six sturdy-looking arrows and last but not least; a know-note was retrieved from the chest before the wood shifted into ghostly a translucence and faded away into nothingness.

    Bert grabbed the boots before Fritz did, then at seeing Fritz''s murderous expression winked, grinned and handed them to him saying, ¡°I was just holding them for you, I don¡¯t need ¡®em.¡±

    Fritz took the boots and studied them, while Sid picked up the arrows and stored them in the quiver that hung at her side. The boots were made of a pitch-black suede-like substance, both delicately soft to the touch and strangely stiff to bend. It had to be some sort of exotic material, perhaps some kind of monster hide that he hadn¡¯t heard of. He had been wishing for better boots for a while now and it seemed the Spire had heard him, he repressed a shudder. They looked to be around the right size and shape for his battered feet, so he assumed they were intended for him.

    They were oddly light and had no laces for Fritz to fumble with, another Godsend he thought after his experience in the Spire lake outside. He shivered just remembering the icy, oppressive waters. He quickly kicked off his own filthy, scarred shoes and went to slip on these new black suede boots, idly he wished he had some proper socks to go with them, but wisely decided not to speak the complaint aloud.

    They slid on easily, reaching up to the middle of his shins and they fit... perfectly. He stood up and strode around to test out their feel and weight. With his last pair of boots it had been almost like trudging through mud everywhere he went, now though walking was like gliding, like stepping on fluffy, warm clouds. He accidentally let out a deep, relaxed groan.

    Sid smirked and Bert grinned saying, ¡°Oh, you were right Sid, that¡¯s what he sounds like when it¡¯s pleasure, my mistake.¡±

    ¡°An easy mistake to make, he does sound a bit like he¡¯s being tortured,¡± Sid responded.

    ¡°What you¡¯re hearing are the deep aches of my heart and soul,¡± Fritz said dramatically, too comfortable to complain or contest their comments.

    ¡°Oh wow, this is nice,¡± Sid said happily as she donned the cloak that resembled the depths of the ocean in its black-blue hue. ¡°And fearsome,¡± She added as she pulled up its hood shrouding her face in shadow.

    ¡°Very fearsome,¡± Fritz agreed, and he meant it. Sid cut quite the figure, a looming, brooding figure when her breastplate¡¯s resplendence was hidden behind the cloak like the sun hidden by storm clouds. ¡°Really leaning into that ranger aesthetic, it suits you. Too bad there¡¯s no forest to stalk near Rain City.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, just stony beaches, barnacled boats and dingy docks,¡± Sid sighed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the rain-slick streets, towering tenements and gurgling gutters,¡± Fritz added as if he were reminiscing about an old and dear friend. Which now that he thought of it, he was; strange; surviving in the Sunken Ring had been something of a nightmare that he woke up to endure rather than the other way around. But now, after this Abyss of a Spire, he felt somewhat homesick, then he vividly remembered the rain, rats and rotting wood and decided the Spire wasn¡¯t so bad.

    ¡°Fritz, you there?¡± Bert called out to him.

    ¡°Huh, what? Sorry, got caught up in my thoughts, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Fritz replied focusing back on the present.

    ¡°Your arm. It¡¯s out of its sling. Is it feeling better?¡± Bert asked as if he were tired of repeating himself.

    ¡°Hmm. Oh, yeah. The Well¡¯s magic is healing it, slowly. Still feels numb and aches terribly, but I can use it now. Even if I may be a little clumsy until it''s fully recovered,¡± Fritz explained holding up his hand, wincing then waggling his slightly trembling fingers.

    ¡°What¡¯s left of the Treasures?¡± He asked before they could pester him with any more questions about his condition.

    ¡°Nothing, save this No-note,¡± Bert said proffering the paper card in his now leather-clad hand.

    ¡°I think all these things are slightly magic, but I¡¯m not sure if they are imbued with Abilities,¡± Fritz stated.

    ¡°Like our packs?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Like our packs,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°I have read that such Treasures and items don¡¯t need to be recharged as often as their effects are generally pretty weak. Or something about Passive Abilities not drawing as much mana because they pull what little they need from the materials themselves that have those particular abnormalities intrinsically. But, I¡¯m no expert.¡±

    ¡°Coulda¡¯ fooled me,¡± Bert groused.

    ¡°A squid could fool you,¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°You do sound like an expert,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°It¡¯s called confidence, you either have it or you fake it,¡± Fritz espoused as arrogantly as he could. He smirked when he saw them both scoff at him. ¡°It¡¯s just a feeling, but these particular items aren¡¯t going to improve our combat effectiveness, save maybe that obviously imbued necklace Bert is wearing,¡± Fritz continued.

    ¡°It¡¯s an amulet, not a necklace,¡± Bert corrected. ¡°Not that it matters, but you should get these things right, it¡¯s a matter of professionalism.¡±

    ¡°As a Scout?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°As a Thief,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Uh, huh. So we have one know-note, again.¡± Sid stated. ¡°What should we use it on?¡±

    ¡°Wish it gave us more know-notes, but I guess that¡¯s the point. To have us suffer in our ignorance and indecision,¡± Fritz complained.

    ¡°Sure,¡¯ Sid said with a sigh. ¡°But what do we want to use it on?¡±

    ¡°My necklace?¡± Bert suggested.

    ¡°I thought you just said it was an amulet,¡± Fritz said pointedly, annoyed by his friend¡¯s mercurial nature.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so picky,¡± Bert replied with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s annoying.¡± He added as his grin grew even wider.

    Fritz was about to argue when Sid spoke, ¡°Fine use it on the amulet, let¡¯s get this idiocy over with.¡±

    Bert glanced at her sourly as if she had ruined all his fun and in that moment Fritz was glad of her no-nonsense approach. If Fritz and Bert had been alone together they may have bickered for hours before coming to the obvious conclusion of using the know-note on the only Treasure they had no clue about.

    ¡°Before you use it, you better use the trick to find out if anything else is imbued, just in case,¡± Fritz warned.

    Bert complied with the request, tapping the piece of paper to his gloves, then to Sid¡¯s cloak and arrows, then to Fritz¡¯s boots as he stood over him smirking his most self-satisfied smirks.

    ¡°Nothing imbued, but there was a small tremble. Like Fritz said these are real Treasures and are magical, but not imbued,¡± Bert said a little disappointed, then he broke into his usual grin as he placed the know-note to the brass amulet draped around his neck.

    Glyphs burned into being as specks of flame wrote out a description of the Treasure¡¯s imbuements upon the white card.

    Bert sternly stated, ¡°It''s like it was made for me. I¡¯m keeping it.¡±

 Chapter 51

    Fritz took the white and black know-note eagerly and read its new glyphs.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Amulet of Repose

    ---

    Alignment: Boon, Life, Mind, Sense.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Second Wind

    Pushing through, tired and weak, rise again, reach the peak.

    Recovers two thirds of total stamina.

    Alignment: Life.

    Cost: Three.

    Duration: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Calm

    Frayed nerves and a stomach knot, eased and smoothed then forgot.

    Reduces emotional distress or excitement.

    Alignment: Boon, Mind, Sense.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Fifteen minutes

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    ¡°How could anything named ¡®Amulet of Repose¡¯ be meant for you,¡± Fritz said scowling.

    ¡°What? I¡¯m always posing!¡± Bert replied as he held up his arm and flexed his bicep. ¡°I even sometimes, re-pose,¡± He added as he switched to flexing his other arm.

    Sid burst out laughing and Fritz smiled at the truly terrible pun.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what repose means, idiot,¡± Fritz argued, still smiling.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care,¡± Bert eloquently riposted.

    ¡°Well, I guess the Second Wind effect would be most useful for you, especially because you probably use a lot of Stamina mending your constantly breaking bones,¡± Fritz reasoned after Sid¡¯s raucous laughter had died down.

    ¡°Indeed¡­ that¡¯s why I want it,¡± Bert said furtively.

    Fritz, already bored by the suspicious routine, ignored him and asked, ¡°What of the Calm Ability? Does that only affect the user?¡±

    ¡°I dunno¡¯, we¡¯d have to test it, but it costs a whole two mana,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Never mind, we can always test it outside the Spire,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Now that¡¯s all sorted. Who has the goblin Chief¡¯s ring?¡±

    ¡°Gave it to Sid. My gloves wouldn¡¯t fit over it,¡± Bert lamented in deep disappointed tones.

    ¡°Right here,¡± Sid said, holing up her hand and displaying the thick golden ring and its dark purple gems wrapped incongruously around a slim finger.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we talk about who gets the ring?¡± Fritz suggested.

    ¡°Nah,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Why?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Bert doesn¡¯t want it and besides I don¡¯t trust either of you with it,¡± She said, not unkindly but also not without edge.

    ¡°I¡¯m hurt Sid,¡± Fritz proclaimed, surprised to find it was true.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care,¡± Sid said seriously. ¡°It¡¯s mind magic. You can do a lot of harm with such a thing.¡±

    ¡°Bert and I would never do anything untoward with such an Ability,¡± Fritz said reproachfully, almost angrily.

    ¡°Maybe not. But I don¡¯t care. I won''t risk it in anyone elses hands,¡± Sid said seriously as she met Fritz¡¯s gaze and stared back, hard.

    ¡°That¡¯s not very fair,¡± Fritz started in genuine offence.

    ¡°No. It''s not. Nothing is. Or will be,¡± Sid stated absolutely.

    ¡°Leave it, Fritz,¡± Bert warned. He walked up to and then whispered into Fritz¡¯s ear, ¡°We¡¯ve seen a lot of bad stuff in the gutters, but she¡¯s had to fear far worse.¡±

    Fritz still felt aggrieved and was about to boast of all his virtuous acts and intent, but something in her steely blue eyes shouted at him that it would be of no use and that Bert was right. It wasn¡¯t even necessarily an aspersion on his honour. The horrors she may have witnessed or perhaps endured had put her on a path, one of prevention and protection. He felt he had no right to tell her differently.

    ¡°Fine. Keep the ring. Looks better on you anyway,¡± Fritz said, sounding stilted and slightly petulant even to his own ears.

    ¡°I will,¡± Sid said.

    They stood glaring at each other for some moments, some deep, burning tension building between them. For some inexplicable reason, Fritz felt the desire to stride across the room, take Sid into his arms, press her to him and kiss her. Aching frustration flared hot and he could see it reflected, resonating in her own bright gaze. They nearly moved; they nearly moved, together.

    Bert piped up genially, ¡°What¡¯s behind the Doors, Fritz?¡±

    The silence was broken as was their intense eye contact, their passion quenched with a reminder of Bert¡¯s presence, the cold of the room and their current situation reasserting its reality. It was not the time for such things and definitely not the place, he told himself but the thought just made Fritz ache more.

    Fritz looked to the Doors sheepishly, and Sid turned her back to him, her cloak swishing in the air and she let out a long steadying breath.

    Fritz decided to leave it be, for once, and strode to the Doors carved into the cavern wall. In all the passionate arguing he had forgotten about his new boots and now revelled in the sublime softness and complete comfort as he walked.

    Standing before the last three Doors of the Spire he felt something of a weight, a finality. He shook his shoulders loose, trying to shrug off the stress he felt pressing down upon him. He sighed and looked to the first Door.

    Its shining arch was made of slowly flowing red glass, the whole opening somehow reminded him of sweet syrup and his mouth watered from the recollection. A thudding echoed from the depths, maybe some of the glass dropping to the sticky floor. His Door Sense pulled forth images of monsters encased in amber, like some of the curios he had seen when he was young, or perhaps more like candied pears.

    The Door exhaled air that was hot and sickly sweet, with hints of rancid fruit and rotting meat. Fritz didn¡¯t much like the stifling qualities projected from that floor so grimacing he turned to the next Door.

    This Door seemed to have a simple frame, and beyond that a hallway of wooden planks, only some of which had swollen with water and had been taken with mould. It felt familiar, a rain-soaked, leaking house, well-known and oft navigated by both Fritz and Bert on their many heists and explorations. He was sorely tempted to pick this Door, to have an advantage, to be in their element. Until Door Sense ruined it with the impressions of a pale, translucent figure, a murdered man with a broken neck and a knife in his gut, floating through the walls and rooms.

    Fritz shivered, he could hear the spectre¡¯s aching, accusatory lament whispering on the cold, clammy air. Undead, and not the kind you can stab with a sword or break with your fists. Maybe their Abilities would be able to hit the ghostly monster but he didn¡¯t want to risk his life on a maybe.

    The last Door was eerily familiar. It was an arch comprised of gnarled wood, bleached with age and caked with grey dirt. It was incredibly similar to the first door he had picked in the Spire, just... older. He felt at the Door, finding the impressions strengthened, maybe because he knew what he was feeling for. The blight hounds were stalking for long-deceased, long-gone prey, they were still starving, vicious and snarling. The moon watched on as it ever did; and one hound; the greatest in size; the greatest in strength and wiles; the most horrifying and hungry; never sated, ever starved. Terrible eyes, that ate the light, horrible maw, that ate the bright. That hound waited; It waited for him.

    Fritz stepped back as Bert yelled out something that broke his focus on what lay beyond.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz replied blearily, still seeing the hound''s awful lightless stare like an afterimage in his mind.

    ¡°I said what are you doing?¡± Bert said. Fritz snapped out of his daze and realised Bert was right next to him a strong hand grasping his shoulder. ¡°You were about to stagger into the Door. Was it another compulsion?¡±

    ¡°Yes. No? Maybe? It was the blight hound, the big one. You remember? On the first floor?¡± Fritz explained stiltedly.

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I do, I was more worried about getting you and Toby out,¡± Bert said. ¡°There was a big one? And I didn¡¯t get to punch it?¡±

    ¡°There was,¡± Sid said. ¡°And this was before your decision to totally embrace your madness.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. We can make up for lost opportunities then,¡± Bert said grinning and swinging his fist up in an uppercut. He then started punching and kicking at the air, fighting against some imagined foe.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hear about the other Doors first,¡± Sid said about to roll her eyes but stopping herself, knowing that it would just encourage the Brute.

    ¡°Yeah, uhh other Doors, any good targets?¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Well, the glass in this red one seems to drip and could catch you within it, sticking you in place and potentially holding you there forever. But there may be other complications with the floor as well. I don¡¯t like it overmuch.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a bad way to go, sealed in glass like that,¡± Sid said grimacing at the thought.

    ¡°The middle Door has a ghost, which we all know is undead and therefore to be avoided.¡±

    ¡°And you can¡¯t punch ghosts,¡± Bert said sourly. ¡°Or maybe I can with Concussive Blow, can Abilities hit ghosts?¡±

    ¡°Depends on the Ability¡¯s alignment, I hear that sometimes incorporeal creatures are aligned to elements or other concepts, like sound or shadow,¡± Sid supplied when Fritz looked to her for the answer. ¡°But it''s not likely to be able to be hit with what we have. Unless it''s a stone ghost? They tend to be more solid,¡± She added hopefully.

    ¡°Not likely to be a stone ghost, probably just your everyday, run-of-the-mill, normal incorporeal undead,¡± Fritz said blandly.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Which means no punching?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Which means no punching,¡± Fritz agreed.

    ¡°And the last floor is the blight hounds again?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°It might actually be the entire first floor again,¡± Fritz said.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°Weird,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Or a trap,¡± Fritz intoned soberly. ¡°Call me mad but-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re mad,¡± Sid and Bert said on cue.

    Fritz sighed but let a wry smile crawl up his face and continued, ¡°As I was saying. I got the distinct impression that the hound was waiting.¡±

    ¡°Waiting for what?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Waiting for me. To eat me. Eat my Sanctum. Probably,¡± Fritz hedged.

    ¡°You¡¯re mad,¡± Bert said again.

    ¡°Door Sense?¡± Sid said.

    ¡°That and the last time I saw it. Before I even had Awareness, I felt something similar,¡± Fritz said.

    Sid grunted in acknowledgement but said nothing more.

    Bert slapped Fritz on the back and asked, ¡°Which Door then?¡±

    ¡°Hound Door, at least we know we can kill the hounds and already know where the Stairways is. If it doesn¡¯t move,¡± Fritz reasoned.

    ¡°Can a stairway move?¡± Sid inquired incredulously.

    ¡°It can. Well, my father said it had happened to him once or twice,¡± Fritz stated.

    ¡°Hound floor it is. Straight in or rest up?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Rest,¡± Fritz said exhaling heavy. ¡°After that goblin fight, nay battle, nay war. I am mighty tired.¡±

    ¡°We can also test our New Abilities once we rest up,¡± Bert suggested. ¡°Especially that Danger Sense.¡±

    ¡°Why do I get the feeling testing Danger Sense is just a reason to punch me without consequence?¡± Fritz complained.

    ¡°Sid can help too,¡± Bert said, ignoring his question.

    Sid grunted, seemingly agreeing.

    ¡°Oh and you aught to refill your Treasures,¡± Bert said, helpfully heaving out what remained of the bull¡¯s heart from his pack and laying it on the ground. ¡°I should too now that I have one of my very own,¡± he added, rubbing the circle of brass against his cheek affectionately then quickly kissing it and placing it against the gold.

    Fritz and Sid stepped forward adding their respective Treasures. Surprisingly, or maybe not, now that Fritz thought about it, the Chief¡¯s ring absorbed a lot more gold than the other items. Sid quickly pulled it away before it ate the rest of the heart.

    ¡°Hungry Treasure,¡± Fritz noted.

    ¡°Yeah, should I fill it fully?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Fritz and Bert said together.

    ¡°I dunno, what if it eats it all?¡± Sid said strangely reticent.

    ¡°Then I won''t have to lug it around anymore,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°I dunno,¡± Sid repeated, and Fritz got the impression that it wasn¡¯t so much about the gold, but more about the Treasure itself.

    ¡°Don¡¯t trust yourself with it either?¡± He asked gently.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot of Power,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°So is Wind Strike, or Venomous Strike. They both have the power to kill,¡± Fritz reasoned.

    ¡°It¡¯s different, this ring can mess with your mind. It has a lot of room for abuse,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Maybe, but that¡¯s true of all Power. For what it¡¯s worth, I think you¡¯re right about being the one to use it. I trust it in your swift hands,¡± Fritz said earnestly. ¡°And if you don¡¯t want it anymore you can just leave it at the pinnacle,¡± he added with a shrug.

    ¡°What a waste, it would look great on me,¡± Bert said. ¡°Really fits my aesthetic.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t know what gold was for, knows the word aesthetic,¡± Sid said. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother Sid. His vanity goes beyond even my own,¡± Fritz stated, glad to have quickly abandoned the subject of the ring. He didn¡¯t quite know where he stood on the whole mind control argument and he would rather avoid it for now, and maybe forever.

    ¡°Vanity? Is it truly vain to want to be covered in gold, jewels and fine silks?¡± Bert argued.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Sid said at the same time Fritz responded ¡°No, I suppose not.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± They again said together.

    ¡°Oh, of course, the noble-¡± Sid started.

    ¡°Minor noble,¡± Fritz corrected.

    ¡°Would want to waste their wealth on silks,¡± She continued unwilling to hold back the disgust in her voice.

    ¡°I never said I would, it¡¯s just nice to look nice and it¡¯s not as if, once we¡¯re out of the Spire, you¡¯re not going to get yourself something pretty too,¡± Fritz argued.

    ¡°I won''t,¡± Sid said stubbornly. ¡°Only the necessities.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh,¡± Bert said obviously disbelieving Sid¡¯s words.

    Heading off another argument Fritz said, ¡°Let¡¯s rest, we¡¯re obviously exhausted.¡±

    Sid sighed, stared at the gold ring in her palm, put it on her finger and strode away, setting up her oilcloth sheet as far from Fritz and Bert as she could.

    ¡°Damn, Fritz. You know how to pick ¡®em,¡± Bert whispered.

    ¡°I have no idea what could possibly be implying about me or my tastes,¡± Fritz said haughtily.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be clear then, what¡¯s with you and proud, principled¡­ perilous women?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s pride, I think it¡¯s... ambition,¡± Fritz mused, not even bothering to deny his feelings for Sid.

    ¡°You know that¡¯s gonna make your life difficult,¡± Bert observed frankly.

    ¡°When have I ever cared about making my life easy?¡± Fritz said smirking.

    ¡°Too true I¡¯m afraid, far too true,¡± Bert intone putting a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Good luck.¡±

    ¡°Won''t need it, under all this grime I¡¯m mighty handsome,¡± Fritz boasted.

    ¡°A faerie princeling in the making,¡± Bert mocked grinning.

    Fritz winced at the comment, brutally reminded of his connection and the favour he still owed to the Duskmoth.

    ¡°But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s your looks that bother people, Fritz,¡± Bert continued worried his insult hit too close to home.

    ¡°It¡¯s not?¡± Fritz said aghast.

    ¡°No, it''s all the rest,¡± Bert said waving his hand at Fritz¡¯s head and then his heart.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean,¡± Fritz stated, intentionally ignoring his faults.

    ¡°And you probably never will,¡± Bert said. ¡°Sid would have her hands full with you.¡±

    ¡°In more ways than one,¡± they said together.

    They laughed, earning them a scowl and a shout of ¡°Shut up I¡¯m trying to sleep!¡± from Sid.

    They quieted down and set up their own area to sleep.

    Fritz was worried about having another nightmare, but fortunately none assailed him in the hours he slept. He was lying down one moment then being shaken awake in the next. Blearily, his head heavy he looked up to see Sid pushing on his shoulder, a bright blue-white light pulsing over her face. There was a trilling in the back of his head and he tried to shake it off until he realised it was his Trap Sense.

    ¡°Can''t rest any longer, the tower is doing something weird, probably a Well-timer,¡± Sid said.

    Fritz nodded and got to his feet quickly, spotting the offending tower and its pulsing warning. It was definitely dangerous and they had maybe a couple of minutes to get out.

    ¡°I tried to wake Bert but he sleeps like the drowned,¡± Sid explained obviously annoyed.

    ¡°More like the drowning, with all his flailing,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Bert, heist time!¡± Fritz yelled slapping his friend in his sleeping face.

    Bert startled and sat up rapidly, rolled to his feet and started packing his things with a glassy look in his eyes that only started to fade once they were all in front of the gnarled wooden arch.

    ¡°We ready?¡± Fritz asked as they each checked over their gear one last time as the light burned brighter and pulsed faster.

    ¡°Ready,¡± they called out as a buzzing started to fill the room, and powerful vibrations travelled up their legs. Sid startled a little but was quick to follow as Fritz strode up the dirt and stone steps, back to the old forest where they had begun their climb.

    A mild breeze caressed them with stale scents of rot and ruin. It felt like a wrongness lay before them, above them, but they had nowhere to go but up. They would have to lay eyes on that lonely moon again. The dirt of the tunnel was greyer, dustier and somehow more lifeless. Ancient roots poked through the tunnel walls bleached like the bones of some long-dead animals, and some that he realised were the bones of long-dead animals. Something he either didn¡¯t notice or wasn¡¯t there the first time they came through.

    Silver light poured into the tunnel from up ahead, spilling out of the exit and Fritz strode into it, shielding his eyes with one hand and squinting in the brightly illuminated basin beyond. He had expected the night to be darker, or dimmer, that same soft lantern-like light, not the near blinding brilliance of the unmarred moon overhead. He let his eyes adjust, removed his hand to look upon that singular metallic orb in the black sky, but found instead an endless plane of flawless silver that stretched across the sky.

    He realised quickly that the sky was the moon. It was huge, too big, and it was close, too close, far too big, far too close. Worst of all, it was getting closer, he felt its weight was about to crush him or already was. Fritz¡¯s breath was coming in rapid bursts and he was sweating as he gazed up into the slowly descending silver. He felt like a worm, smaller than a worm, the smallest thing in the world looking up at the falling heel of a Titan.

    Get a hold of yourself, look away, it can¡¯t hurt you. Yet. Fritz told himself struggling with the mind-bending, nay mind-breaking, enormity of the moon¡¯s surface.

    He closed his eyes and bent his head, content to stand still and breathe deeply as he gathered his wits.

    ¡°Fritz, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Bert called out from the tunnel.

    ¡°The moon,¡± Fritz said through his clenched jaw. ¡°Just a moment or two more and I¡¯ll be able to cope with the weight.¡±

    ¡°What weight?¡± Bert asked worried evident in his tone.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Fritz said his voice echoing out ominously.

    ¡°See what?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°The moon¡­ it¡¯s just there, so near, and big,¡±

    ¡°Big?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Too big,¡± Fritz amended. ¡°Huge, enormous, words don¡¯t do it justice. You¡¯ll see, but be prepared before you look up.¡±

    Eventually, after some minutes of standing still and focusing on himself and his breath, he got used to the pressure. Fritz opened his eyes, taking in the basin around him. Near the wall of snaking, pale roots lay an animal¡¯s porcelain white skeleton. Dread building in his gut from the utter wrongness, the incongruity of too much passed time as he recognised it as the first blight hound he had faced. Shaking his head and looking away from the ancient bones he motioned his friends forwards hoping they didn¡¯t suffer as badly under the silvery strain.

    Bert stepped out Sid close behind, they strode up to Fritz keeping their eyes low. When they reached Fritz¡¯s side he said, ¡°Might as well get it out of the way, we won''t be able to find the stairway if you can''t look up.¡±

    They nodded, Bert looked up and said ¡°Whoa.¡± In only a moment rolled his shoulders and broke eye contact with the shimmering metallic sky.

    Sid was next and gasped, ¡°It¡¯s so...big,¡±

    ¡°Told you,¡± Fritz replied.

    Her eyes slowly lowered back to the basin and to Fritz¡¯s forlorn face.

    ¡°That it?¡± Bert asked, seemingly already bored.

    ¡°You don¡¯t feel it?¡± Fritz wondered aloud.

    ¡°Feel what?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°The heaviness, like you¡¯re being or going to be crushed?¡± Fritz asked incredulously.

    Sid and Bert shared a quizzical look and shook their heads. Obviously, whatever effect the moon had on Fritz didn¡¯t seem to bother them at all as they looked around easily shouldering or maybe not even feeling the pressure of the moon''s presence.

    The air was quiet, the wind still, there was no longer the rustling of leaves, the only thing Fritz could hear was his own breath and that of his crew.

    Until the howling began.

 Chapter 52

    A lonely note pierced the blanket of silence, its longing tone bouncing off the sky. The desolate sound reverberated and reflected, then was joined by more hollow cry''s, hundreds of anguished howls, a cacophony of craving calls all pulling at the moon as it responded, rejoicing in discordant echoed wails.

    The world, the roots and dirt beneath Fritz''s feet quaked, he could feel the sound shaking his whole body from the inside out and ringing in his bones. All at once the silver sky was too heavy, he fell to a knee and began to weep tears of anguish that weren¡¯t his own. He screamed his own outrage, his own agonies at the crying moon, his own voice adding, blending with the hounds¡¯ haunting, despairing chorus.

    As suddenly as they started the howls cut off, the moon rang out for some moments longer, a desperate peal that quickly droned into nothingness. Fritz was released from the terrible weight and overwhelming sorrow. Silence and stillness reasserted its dominion, leaving his heart feeling hollow and his throat feeling hoarse.

    Fritz wiped the tears that weren¡¯t his own from his eyes and looked around for Bert and Sid. They had remained stiff and standing, covering their ears with their hands with eyes tightly closed.

    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± Fritz said, his words a rasping weedy thing after the moon''s scream.

    His friends didn¡¯t heed him so he stood with a slight wobble, soon corrected his feet and walked steadily to his crew¡¯s sides. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders and shook them gently as if trying to wake them from a nightmare while keeping a wary eye and a sore ear on their surroundings.

    Bert was first to unscrunch his face and peer through his surprisingly bloodshot eyes. Sid¡¯s strained gaze didn¡¯t look much better as Fritz met it with his own. His eyes must have looked just as bad if not worse as Sid¡¯s stern expression was shaded with startlement and worry.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Fritz whispered to her, quickly heading off her own inquiries.

    ¡°I¡¯m great, thanks for asking,¡± Bert said quietly, but in the silence of the basin his voice seemed to boom and echo of the root walls. Fritz winced and any chance at a tender moment between him and Sid was completely blown away.

    He nearly turned to glare at his friend but was halted by Sid¡¯s gruffly soft words. ¡°I¡¯m okay. You?¡±

    ¡°Almost there, the howl hit me hard. Awareness didn¡¯t do me any favours there I suspect,¡± Fritz said.

    Sid nodded and put a hand on his as it still lay upon her shoulder. They stood there for a moment.

    ¡°Same plan as last time?¡± Bert asked striding towards the skeleton by the root wall.

    Sid pulled her hand away from Fritz¡¯s and he let his hand fall from her metal-clad shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking we skip the scout ahead. I have a bad feeling about getting split up on this floor,¡± Fritz suggested.

    ¡°Fair enough, this thing look familiar to you?¡±¡¯ Bert asked prodding the blight hound remains with his foot.

    Fritz stared at the too-white bones that uncanny worry seeping into his gut again, ¡°Yes, it¡¯s the same blight hound I kicked into this basin, remember?¡±

    Bert''s head snapped up to look at him, ¡°Really? But it¡¯s been a week or maybe two at most. This thing has been here...forever,¡± he said sombrely.

    ¡°I¡¯m as sure as the Spire stands,¡± Fritz said.

    Bert shivered, the most outward display of discomfort he had seen from the unflappable man in years.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been gone from here for a long time,¡± Sid said. ¡°How are the hounds still alive? What did they eat?¡±

    ¡°Maybe other climbers? Or maybe each other,¡± Fritz said disgusted at the thought.

    Bert stood, shrugged off whatever had been bothering him and said, ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just magic.¡± His tone was hopeful but Fritz knew well enough that he didn¡¯t believe his own words.

    ¡°Makes no sense,¡± Sid grunted.

    ¡°Best not to think about things like this. That¡¯s what I do and I¡¯m perfectly fine,¡± Fritz boasted.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Sid said wearily.

    ¡°A sane, gallant, genius, that¡¯s me alright,¡± Fritz haughtily espoused. ¡°I¡¯ve never once worried about anything, ever, in my life,¡±

    ¡°Except cats,¡± Bert interjected.

    ¡°Excepting cats,¡± Fritz agreed proudly.

    Sid looked at him blankly, but he could see a faint smile threatening to break over her lips.

    Bert merely grinned, and motioned to the pale roots, saying ¡°Well, after you, our most sane sneak-thief.¡±

    Fritz obliged, striding to the pale wall, gripping the dry, chalky roots and climbing up and over the wall¡¯s surface. His arm ached as he did so but he was able to push through without much trouble, just pain. His still numbed hand was about as clumsy as he expected but at least now it worked and he was over the lip in moments.

    He stared into the forest beyond and reeled at the desolation time had wrought. The once ancient, now dead, trees that had once been gnarled and brown with a canopy of decaying green, lay barren, bleached and bare. It was like a desert of grey populated with innumerable tall, spindly skeletons that stood still as the grave. Their branches didn¡¯t creak and the rustling of leaves had long since ceased to be. The air was eerie and without life, purpose or promise.

    The lattices of bleached wooden branches were woven together as if they died with their leafless hand-like twigs held together in one last comfort. Under the shading limbs of the trees was a web of deep shadows pierced through with sparse lances of silver light. Fritz had no doubt that within the threads and pools of darkness, the hounds waited; horrible and hungry.

    Fritz¡¯s legs shook, but only for a moment as he marshalled his Control directing it to douse any fear he may feel from the sight and the knowledge that they were to be hunted again. He let himself feel for the Stairway, pointing his Door Sense in the direction that he had found it before. He was gratified when at the edge of his mind he felt a tingling affirmation of its location.

    No need to find a tree to climb this time, he thought to himself reflecting a little on how far they¡¯d come. Now I can just know where things are, it¡¯s like, well, magic. That small observation helped put him at ease, they weren¡¯t the same Powerless, leveless people they once were. He knew the floor would still be hard and cruel, but not impossible.

    ¡°Not impossible,¡± he repeated aloud.

    ¡°What?¡± Bert asked in a whisper staring in awe at the forest.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Fritz answered in a soft voice.

    Sid seemed to have heard him talking to himself and gave him a tight smile and a nod.

    ¡°No time like the present,¡± Fritz intoned as he took his first stealthy steps under the pale branches and into the shadows where the moon could no longer gaze down on him.

    The dark was thick in the forest as was the layer of heavy dust that he disturbed with his quiet strides. He kept his senses taut and remembering the hound¡¯s ability to blend into shadows, he made himself ready to act in a split second. His friends followed from about nine feet away, he could see worry on their faces but they steeled themselves and Fritz led them deeper into the dark.

    Up ahead one of the shafts of light flickered for a moment and Fritz motioned his crew to stop and to be on alert. There was something there, something getting closer, he couldn¡¯t see it, hear it or smell it but some intangible sense warned him that it was there. He also got the distinct impression that it wasn¡¯t just one creature stalking them in the gloom.

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    Fritz waited, watching for the hounds with his fish blade in one hand and his bone dagger in the other. A tearing, sensation bit into his leg, it didn¡¯t exactly hurt, it was like a memory of pain he was yet to feel. It was a strange and startling new feeling but Fritz recognised it for what it was, his Danger Sense warning him of a blight hound¡¯s lunging bite.

    He dodged, rapidly repositioning his leg and the feeling of fangs faded from his flesh. Less than a second later he heard the snapping of jaws and a hideous growl. The monster had leapt out at him ripping at the air in a frenzy, its jaws missing his leg by mere inches. Fritz swung down with his fish blade but hit nothing but the dusty floor, the frighteningly quick hound had already bounded away back into the shadows and disappeared from his sight.

    In the brief moment it had been visible and Fritz had gotten a startling surprise. Horrible changes had been wrought to the creatures if they even were the same beasts as before. He clenched the hilts of his weapons tighter as he reconciled what he had seen with what he remembered of the monsters.

    This creature didn¡¯t resemble the thin, mangy black hounds of before, no this thing was far more monstrous. It was bigger for one, reaching up to his sternum in height and it was skeletal, bald and pale save a greasy mane of black matted fur protruding from the back of its long neck and skull-like head. Its bone-white claws and fangs stuck out sharply, larger and sharper and leaking that viscous black tar-venom. It was emaciated, nearly all its muscle gone, he had seen the ridges of its spine cleanly and could count its ribs just as easily, by all rights it shouldn¡¯t be able to move in such a state of deprivation. Yet it did, and it hunted him.

    Have to be quicker, Fritz scolded himself. As soon as you feel the danger stab at the hound.

    He watched and waited again, poised to strike as soon as he felt that not-quite-painful sensation. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he worried that the hound might go after his crew instead when the feeling flared, the pre-memory of fangs around and in his calf.

    Fritz thrust his fish blade forward and into the hound¡¯s path as its shadow-meld broke and it lunged towards his leg. Quicksilver skewered the monster in its hollow eye socket and the hound died quickly, twitching and letting out a hateful whine.

    Another warning from Danger sense pulsed over Fritz¡¯s still thrusting arm. He let go of his stuck fish blade as the creature impaled on it slumped with a muffled thump on the dusty ground. Cloaking his bone dagger in both its curse and Gloom Strike he brought it up under the next hound''s head as it bit where his arm had been not even moments before. Momentum kept the hound hurtling past but it crashed into a skeletal tree showering those below it with white ash-like powder.

    The flakes fell over and outlined a pack of seven more hounds lurking in the dark by Sid and Bert. Fritz let out a cry of warning and Sid spun quickly to face one of their now apparent ambushers. An arrow soared through its skull and pinned its head to a tree. Bert let loose with his Corrosive Spray catching two of them with the gout of sour, searing liquid.

    There was another feeling of impending pain over his shoulders, back and neck and Fritz reflexively activated his ring and leapt to the side. He ducked under the suddenly appearing hound¡¯s gnashing jaws but he wasn¡¯t quite quick enough to dodge its clawed paw as it raked over his barrier. It dispersed with a hum and the monster¡¯s thin forelimb pushed him to the ground with surprising strength, a sharp claw digging through his scales and into his back.

    Fritz hit the ground on his belly, winded but not stunned. He rolled sideways to see the hound loom over him and lunge for his throat. Weaponless, Fritz did what he had to and fought dirty. He conjured shifting dark over his hand, focusing on wrapping his index and middle fingers with Gloom strike¡¯s energies, trying to shape the shadows into a spike of bitter black. The hound¡¯s maw descended towards his neck. Fritz struck like a serpent, thrusting his fingers into the deep eye socket as it came down. There was a disgusting squelch and a pop when he squashed the creature''s eye but he didn¡¯t stop there, with all his strength he pushed, plunging his fingers deeper and reactivating Gloom Strike.

    His attacker''s jaws reached his neck and he relied on his barrier ring again. The tar-covered fangs were pushed away from his body by the near-invisible skin as it encompassed him. The hound suddenly sagged on one side and its limbs started twitching and jumping seemingly at random. Fritz smirked knowing he had finally reached its dumb dog brain with his strike and the extra reach from the barrier. With the last of its strength, it bit down on his neck but succeeded only in breaking the translucent shield.

    The hound slumped, about to fall over and onto Fritz but he got his legs under the creature¡¯s skeletal rib cage and kicked it off. It lay in the dust twitching, whining and dying, he had no weapon to hand to finish the beast off so looked around for his crew or one of his blades.

    A hound pounced at Sid¡¯s back but struck a wall of wind and was thrown off course and into its monstrous kin. She barely gave it a glance as she bent her bow and loosed another arrow straight through a hound¡¯s heart. Bert had a bite wound high on his shoulder, the punctured edges blackened and still bleeding freely. Fritz frowned in worry, It should have scabbed up by now. If the injury hurt Bert he didn¡¯t show it as he broke the neck of another of the monster with a quick, clean kick.

    Two more hounds fell to his crew¡¯s deadly attacks and Fritz had expected the creatures to flee as most of the pack was dead. But instead, the last three hounds went mad at the scent of blood, ignoring their former prey completely and started snarling, snapping and tearing chunks off each other. They fed upon one another in black hunger, frenzied and furiously gulping down the little meat they could chew off each other¡¯s bodies. Bones snapped, blood flew and Fritz and his crew didn¡¯t have to fight anymore as the hounds continued in the cannibalistic carnage.

    Fritz¡¯s stomach lurched from the horrible sight and worse sounds and he turned away as Bert, with a sick look on his own face, caved in the head of the last living hound.

    ¡°What in the Last Spire just happened?¡± Sid asked, with even her usually pale face looking a little green.

    ¡°Hounds were eating each other,¡± Bert said observing the obvious.

    ¡°They¡¯re starved. So much so that they seem to go into a ravenous rage or perhaps feeding frenzy is the correct term,¡± Fritz said darkly, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor and away from the dead monsters.

    ¡°It¡¯s foul,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°It is,¡± Fritz agreed, finally going to retrieve his trusty weapons from their respective hound corpses. ¡°But it gives us a new plan. If we run into the whole lot of them, rile them up into a feeding frenzy while we run for the Stairway.¡±

    ¡°Why do they look different?¡± Bert asked rubbing at his bitten shoulder which seemed to no longer be bleeding with the blackness receding.

    ¡°Magic,¡± Fritz and Sid said together, both letting out a tired sigh. Their eyes met and they each gave a smile of shared suffering.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Bert said. ¡°Magic of course.¡±

    ¡°Do you want this one or shall I?¡± Fritz asked Sid.

    ¡°Be my guest,¡± Sid replied, drinking down some water.

    Fritz felt a little parched himself in this dusty grey forest so followed her example, then once he had wet his lips he continued to speak an explanation mostly to Bert¡¯s benefit. ¡°So you know how outside a Spire¡¯s protection Epsa is full of dangerous, strange monsters?¡±

    ¡°And Leviathans,¡± Sid added.

    ¡°And Titans,¡± Bert commented.

    ¡°And their spawn,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°Well, the prevailing theory is that the chaotic mana outside a Spire¡¯s mana-refinement-demesne changes the animals, if they still even exist out there, and creates monsters or worse. The inside of a Spire is similar, I¡¯ve heard, magic warps things, making them stronger or giving them Abilities similar to those the Spires give out.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± Bert said. ¡°How do monster companions work? Like those of beast masters and such.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure, never really read much about them. Didn¡¯t have much interest in another monster companion when I already have one,¡± Fritz said, gesturing at his friend.

    ¡°Oh, ha ha,¡± Bert said unimpressed.

    ¡°From what I know I think you need to either have a Companion Ability or an item with the Ability imbued to take them with you into a Spire. Otherwise, monsters can¡¯t enter, or leave. As for how the companions get stronger, I don¡¯t know either,¡± Sid explained.

    ¡°Why the sudden interest?¡± Fritz asked suspiciously.

    Bert shrugged, but it looked too much like a practised gesture than the real thing to Fritz.

    ¡°No reason, just interesting,¡± Bert said slyly.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going. The sooner we¡¯re out the sooner we can talk freely,¡± Sid said retrieving the last of her surprisingly still intact arrows from the blight hounds.

    Quite the improvement on both the arrows she got on the second floor and the conjured ones, Fritz observed.

    Fritz sighed and used the remains of his arm sling to wipe away the thick dark blood covering his blades, then set out towards the stairway without another word, trusting his crew to follow. They did and with no complaint or chatter.

    As they moved under the tall branches Fritz reflected on the fight and tried to ignore the creeping cold feeling spreading from a spot on his back. The Well would probably take care of the claw wound he knew, but he hoped the injury wouldn¡¯t slow him down too much. He at least now knew some of the limitations of his new Danger Sense. It was extremely useful but without the proper quickness or reflexes it left a little to be desired as he could still be overwhelmed with either greater speed or numbers. Still, against sneak attacks or hidden opponents, it was invaluable.

    Weaving his way through the forest and avoiding the moon¡¯s light where he could, they came upon the tree line¡¯s abrupt end. Far sooner than he¡¯d guessed they¡¯d reach it. He saw why immediately, the stretch of barren soil had expanded and the bare hill lay in the distance.

    Patrolling the plain of grey dirt and dust were many packs of what had once been blight hounds, they circled the hill sniffing at the air and occasionally snapping their long jaws at each other. Whatever had previously prevented the hounds from walking on the bare land had seemed to have disappeared or was perhaps suppressed by the power of the too-near presence of the moon.

    ¡°At least they can''t hide under the moon¡¯s light,¡± Fritz thought out loud.

    ¡°Yeah but look at all of them, hundreds by my count,¡± Bert said rubbing at a spot on his arm.

    Fritz wasn¡¯t paying too much attention as he was searching the grey hill for any sign of the great hound, wondering about and dreading to see what changes time and Spire had wrought on its already fearsome form.

    There by the huge slab of green marble, a terrible darkness lay. Fritz knew somehow that it was waiting. Waiting for intruders, waiting for food, waiting for the moon to fall and watching, waiting for him.

    Fritz gulped.

    And the Hound heard him.

 Chapter 53

    The great black beast lifted its massive head, inhaled deeply through its snout, scenting the air for the interlopers on its floor. It turned eyes that were darker than night and drank in the moon¡¯s silver light slowly across the grey waste before it. It searched steadily until its dreadful, hollowing gaze fell inexorably upon Fritz.

    The Hound didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t howl to set its pack on his crew like Fritz thought it might. It lay there as patient as the time-worn hill it sat upon. He met the Hound¡¯s cruel, calm, intelligent stare with his own unwavering, defiant glare. It did not avert its eyes, it sat up and watched, still as stone.

    Fritz knew why, it was guarding the only way out and somehow it also knew that this was their only escape. So it could wait, it had no need to chase and hunt when they had to come to it. It was a

    decidedly un-dog-like strategy, so much so that it made Fritz realise just how smart the creature was to override its instincts and lay such a trap.

    From his place among the trees Fritz stepped back, returning to his crew some yards away.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, what¡¯s got you looking so pale?¡± Bert whispered.

    Only then did Fritz realise he had been sweating and shaking ever so slightly. He wiped his brow and explained the situation.

    ¡°Must be Aberrant,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Why hasn¡¯t it broken out then?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s trying. Maybe this whole moon thing is how it plans to break the floor,¡± Fritz posited.

    Bert shrugged and Sid nodded, seemingly agreeing with the logic.

    ¡°Whatever it¡¯s doing doesn¡¯t matter. We need to get past it and its pack,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°True as the rain,¡± Fritz agreed.

    ¡°Do we kill the big one?¡± Bert said cracking his knuckles. ¡°Or just run by?¡±

    Fritz could feel the Hound¡¯s gaze upon his back as he spoke, ¡°Kill it, it knows we¡¯re here, it won''t let us escape.¡±

    Won''t let me escape, Fritz pointedly avoided saying.

    ¡°If it¡¯s Aberrant it¡¯ll have a Seed. Depending on its quality it could be worth a fortune, don¡¯t leave it behind, bring its whole corpse if you have to,¡± Sid sternly ¡®suggested.¡¯

    Bert nodded and Fritz said, ¡°Of course. There¡¯s no way I¡¯d leave behind such a score.¡±

    ¡°You did with the goblin,¡± Bert observed.

    ¡°It was about to kill me six different ways with one sword. We don¡¯t even know if it was really Aberrant or just a particularly mean and ugly goblin. Plus I got the ring and the chest didn¡¯t I?¡± Fritz responded defensively. ¡°I bet you like that necklace better than an unrefined Aberrant Seed anyway.¡±

    ¡°True enough,¡± Bert shrugged. ¡°The gloves are nice too, less bruising and broken skin.¡±

    ¡°No one faults you, Fritz,¡± Sid said. ¡°It''s basically a miracle we¡¯ve got this far anyway. Treasure¡¯s just gravy.¡±

    ¡°I love gravy,¡± Bert intoned solemnly.

    Fritz nodded seriously.

    A strained silence fell. Bert brought out the golden heart for some last-minute refilling and Fritz touched his ring to it. When what was left of the heart was put away again, they strode forth, gathered at the tree line and checked their gear one last time. His pack secured and with his fish blade in his right hand and his bone dagger in his left, Fritz steeled himself for one last assault.

    This was the last challenge of the Spire, a seemingly impossible challenge, one Fritz knew they were ill-prepared for. The odds had never been in their favour, they were meant to die to some devious trap or terrible monster, but so far they had survived. It was all ending here, this last desperate charge, to face a beast none could hope to best. But Fritz stifled the fear that threatened to send him screaming. He focused, brought his will to bear and pushed the bleak, heavy feelings down. His limbs stopped shaking, his gut stopped bubbling and he held on to hope.

    Fritz looked to Bert then to Sid, each of them gave him a nod and he replied in kind. They didn¡¯t need to speak and they didn¡¯t need a speech. They knew exactly what the stakes were and that they would each do what they could. Between them, Fritz could nearly see the intangible, ineffable bonds of friendship, reliance and most of all trust. They stood there for a minute, and then they were off, running across the dusty ground, their softly thudding steps carrying them towards deliverance or doom.

    A patrolling pack of hounds spotted them, they veered from their circular course and straight towards Fritz and his crew, barking and salivating their terrible tar as they rushed. Sid stopped in her tracks and bent her bow, loosing a wind arrow that set her cloak flapping in the twisting air.

    One of the emaciated creatures fell with a shaft caught in its chest and the others turned, descending upon it almost instantly. They bit and barked, ripping the dying hound to pieces. Having neither the time nor the stomach, the crew didn¡¯t bother to watch. Sid grimaced and started running again, abandoning the arrow buried in the monster¡¯s flesh to the jaws of its kin.

    She caught up quickly, and Fritz noted that she could easily outpace them over this flat ground. Well, at least if we fall she might be able to escape without us, Fritz told himself, the thought actually lightening some of the weight on his shoulders. Huh look at that, not so self-centred now, are we? He mused in self-satisfaction.

    Another pack but this time a translucent conjured arrow flew into a hound¡¯s skull-like head. Again the cannibalistic creatures fed upon the fallen, then started fighting with and tearing at each other.

    ¡°Great aim,¡± Fritz complimented as she rejoined them.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Sid puffed out with her dark blue cloak billowing behind her. She cut quite the figure running with long graceful strides over the barren land. She had been right before, the cloak and the breastplate really did go together splendidly. Maybe he¡¯d adopt a similar styling.

    ¡°What are you smirking at you idiot? Eyes forward. Watch where you¡¯re running,¡± Sid snapped.

    Embarrassed to be caught staring, especially when there was so much at stake, Fritz turned his gaze around. He kept his eyes low lest he make eye contact with the Hound that was watching their approach. It barked, once. A deep, mighty boom that rattled his ribs and silenced the lesser blight hounds instantly.

    Startled, they kept running until Fritz started to worry, the packs were strangely quiet and avoiding him and his crew. Instead of chasing them as soon as they spotted them or scented them on the wind. The desolate creatures just let them pass, following behind from a distance.

    The odd behaviour was ominous, so much so that even Bert started to look apprehensive.

    ¡°No going back now,¡± Fritz said pacing himself.

    ¡°As if we would,¡± Bert replied easily, his breath coming much lighter than Fritz¡¯s own.

    ¡°Forward or failure,¡± Sid stated, also seemingly far less tired from the running.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. I¡¯ll add it to my next speech,¡± Fritz replied as he started to pant.

    They ran on, watching out for any sign of sudden attack. But none came until they reached the base of the hill. With another booming bark, the Great Hound moved, racing toward them in a dark blur. Now that Fritz was close enough to pick out the creature''s details he could see tendrils of a black almost smoke-like substance roiled over the pristine void of the hound¡¯s fur. Its moon-silver teeth were bared, shining dimly in the light.

    The hounds joined their lord¡¯s charge, snarling, raving and ravenous. Barks echoed off the moon, and Fritz was assaulted by a torrent of harsh sound. He staggered to a stop and his crew halted with him. Sid loosed a wind-writhed arrow at the great Hound as it streaked towards them, but the black mass subtly shifted and dodged out the arrow¡¯s path with ease.

    ¡°Aim for the small hounds, we have to get them into a frenzy!¡± Fritz yelled over the noise.

    Sid nodded and turned her bow on the approaching tide of slavering skeletal monsters. She loosed, again and again. Hounds fell but were left behind, their foul blood and sparse flesh ignored, the hunters only had eyes for their prey.

    Fritz prepared to fight, dropping his pack and clutching hard at his two blades. Bert ditched his own pack unceremoniously and sprinted forward to meet the approaching tarry jaws, bellowing a war cry that reverberated off the too-near moon.

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    The lesser hounds clashed with Bert, gouts of acid sprayed forth from his palms and the monsters whined and growled as they were showered with the searing spray. His fists were quick and his strikes clean as he brutalised his way through their pack. Fritz followed in his wake with a yell of his own slashing and hacking at the hounds attempting to surround them.

    Danger Sense alighted his body all over with warnings and he did his best to dodge and weave through the waves of snapping jaws and rending claws. He reflexively activated his ring when he was busy ripping his fish blade free from a hound¡¯s chest and felt the left side of his neck about to be bitten. The barrier enclosed him and was immediately broken by one of the monsters as they appeared, suddenly lunging from one of their kin¡¯s shadows and trying to tear out his throat.

    Fritz gave it little thought, letting his instincts guide him into a swift stab with his bone dagger, puncturing its eye and brain with one compact strike. He turned to his next opponent as it readied itself to leap upon Bert¡¯s unprotected back. Fritz stopped it with a Gloom Strike infused thrust from Quicksilver and the cowardly beast fell quickly.

    Hacking, stabbing, cutting, carving, dodging and slipping Fritz fought with all he had, trying to break these creature¡¯s control of the fight. Bert was a whirlwind of fists and occasionally acid. Sid was almost dancing between leaping hounds, slashing them or bashing them with her fin sword and baton respectively.

    Still, this was only the beginning, the Great Hound was coming and it would be there any minute, and even without their lord these mad beasts threatened to overwhelm them through sheer numbers.

    Then the Great Hound struck, the void-black beast blurred past him and Sid was hit with terrible force, thrown off her feet and flung over the heads and snapping jaws of the lesser hounds. The beast was taller than Fritz yet still quicker than any monster he¡¯d ever seen, and he struggled to follow its movements. Again it leapt, like a black streak, and it bit down on Bert¡¯s shoulder with its long, shining fangs. With horrible strength it thrashed him about like a chew toy.

    Bert screamed.

    Then he was tossed into the waiting fangs of its starving spawn.

    A sensation of his head being swallowed whole had Fritz ducking under the suddenly leaping Hound. He pulsed his barrier ring into action as the beast soared over his head gracefully, landing and spinning, slashing at Fritz with its back claw. His shield burst with a dull hum and he was sent to the ground hard, a rent carved through the middle of his scale shirt and a line of red cut into his chest.

    He rolled away from another claw he felt coming, the beast loomed above him ready to bite down on his neck. He could already feel the hollowing burn. The warning suddenly ceased and an arrow dug into the beast''s shoulder, it growled and turned its gaze on Sid. Fritz stabbed up at its furry body with his bone dagger its blade silently wailed with its called-upon curse and his own shadowed energies from Gloom Strike.

    The Hound was too fast, too wary, it noticed the blade¡¯s maleficent Power instantly and leapt away from its bitter point. Fritz cursed, having wasted both his stamina and a use of the blade''s imbuement. Then they were not wasted at all, as a lesser hound crazed with hunger lunged for his throat. He stabbed, and the opportunistic monster was greeted and gutted by a dagger¡¯s thrust it couldn¡¯t see.

    Fritz got to his feet in time to see the Great Hound swipe a claw at Sid as she stood her ground, bow bent and about to loose another arrow. Her white scaled belt subtly glowed with a black-green light and viscous black-green venom leaked from her arrow¡¯s tip. The paw came crashing down from above but was buffeted by a powerful wind, driving it off course and into the ground, kicking up a cloud of grey dust and dirt that swirled in the wild winds.

    The envenomed arrow launched, thudded and stuck just under the Hound¡¯s neck. The beast growled and lunged for Sid, breaking through her wind barrier and seizing her torso between its fangs. It bit down and even through the clamour of battle, Fritz heard the crunching, the whining of metal being bent and broken. Sid wailed, high and piercing.

    It was amongst the worst sounds Fritz had ever heard, his heart dropped and his body shook. Sid¡¯s agony, given voice, cascaded off the moon, reflecting and resounding with terrible intensity. He felt pinned to the spot as dread, fear and rage fought within, even as the beast threw Sid¡¯s limp body to the side.

    It spun to face Bert who had fought his way free of the pack and charged its back. He was covered in dark cuts and bites but they hindered him little as he punched at the Hound¡¯s foreleg joint. The beast was slower to react than it had been, its leg trembling slightly as it made to move, maybe a consequence of the Venom Strike. Bert¡¯s fist connected with a crack and waves of force rippled over the void like fur, diminishing quicker than Fritz had seen before. The Hound growled high in obvious pain but its leg wasn¡¯t pushed out of line nor was its joint broken from Bert¡¯s blow.

    Shadows collected around one paw, the light around its entire foreleg dimming in the sliver light and it struck. Fritz could barely concentrate on its attack which meant Bert didn¡¯t see it coming at all. It batted Bert away with its chest-sized paw, rending his flesh with black-as-void claws. He was knocked from his feet and fell into a ravenous pack of lesser beasts who ripped at his clothes and tore at his body. The scent and sight of blood sent them mad.

    Sid lay still, in a tangle of limbs and she was about to be pounced upon by the pack.

    Fritz needed something to turn the tide, to terrify them, to break the lesser hounds will, just for a moment. He couldn¡¯t move fast enough to save her, and he certainly couldn¡¯t hurt the hounds from where he stood. He looked down to his black-stained fish blade and saw again those motes of blue-green flame dancing in its opaline core.

    He reached out to his sword and the eerie light within as he would if it were a Treasure. It resisted his magic¡¯s touch at first but his Sanctum clanged like a brass bell and the blade echoed the toll. It twisted in his mind¡¯s grip but he knew he could command it, so he did. His fish blade¡¯s ¨C no Quicksilver¡¯s edges flickered with blue-green flame, and he felt a great heat through its makeshift hilt. He pointed his sword at the trio of hounds about to savage Sid where she lay broken and Fritz released the flame within the blade fully, willing it to burn as hot as his rage.

    The whole blade ignited with bright blue-green fire and a gout of flame, at least ten feet long, burst forth from its tip, incinerating the beasts. He spun as his blade still spew fire, swinging his sword in an arc around him. A wave of flame with Fritz at the centre. The eldritch tendrils sought out the hounds even if they leapt back or ducked under its burning blue-green grasp. Their bald skin alighted just as well as any fur, and a cruel conflagration followed.

    Fritz, at last, turned Quicksilver upon the Great Hound and for once he found fear in its hungry gaze, the Tongue of Eldritch Flame, caught upon its hide for a moment before it caught alight, wreathing the left side of its face in the eerie fire. Its fur burnt away and it backed out of the searing agony with a rapid jump backwards. Fritz knew the fire would keep spreading, would eat and scorch everything it touched and for some moments it did, crawling further up the Hound¡¯s hide, turning an ear to ash and boiling its black eye to a blister white.

    Then it stiffened, craned its head to the moon and howled. A mournful, agonised note rang into the metallic sky, obliterating all other sound. The moon howled back and Fritz could see the world wave and ripple as Power pulsed down. The flames were doused, squashed and wrung out by the potent Power. It seemed the Hound was pulling the moon''s sliver light into itself, consuming it and shadowing the world around them, like a cloud over the sun. Its dark, melted flesh soothed into silvery scars within moments.

    The howl cut off suddenly and the moon ceased it¡¯s lamentations a moment after and all Fritz could hear was the cackling of the Eldritch flame.

    The Hound turned its hateful, mismatched eyes on Fritz. It staggered, weakened somehow by its recovery. With one last spiteful bark it turned tail and fled up the hill, away from the evil flame that burnt in Fritz¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Coward! Wretch!¡± He screamed at the beast¡¯s fast retreating back.

    With no foes left within his reach, he pulled back on the cruel fire but it was intent on inflicting further torment and did not obey, threatening to scorch his crew and himself for daring to wield it.

    He heaved the blade up, with all his strength and will, thrusting its tip at the moon. The pillar of eldritch fire roared into the silver sky. He wrestled with the flame, fighting its malevolent will even as his hand sizzled and blistered and the hilt burnt away into thin smoke. With nothing to burn save the night air, the pillar snaked, wavered then finally guttered out, as if it had spent all its power and all Fritz¡¯s rage with it.

    Fritz fell to his knees, completely drained, exhausted, the world going dark around him, the only keen feeling being the searing pain from where his hand stuck to his blue-hot fish blade. He dropped his bone dagger and pried Quicksilver from his melted skin, plunging it into the dirt in front of him like a grave post.

    He then began to laboriously crawl on his hands and knees toward where Sid¡¯s body lay, dying.

    Smoke filled the air, blue-green embers flickered in and out of sight as the once hounds, now pyres, withered into charred skeletons in truth.

    He struggled coughing and calling out to Sid and Bert in a croak.

    Finally, he reached her side and saw the ruin of her breastplate. The metal punctured and bent inwards, blood leaked from the holes and cracks in the dulled surface. Sid looked pale, eyes still slightly open, staring sightless at the silver sky. Fritz choked, and not from the smoke. Heart and organs crushed, and wracked with that hollowing shadow. She was dead, he knew it. But he checked for breathing anyway, holding out that small hope, the one right in his centre under all that cold light.

    A tiny, rattling breath, the light flutter of a heartbeat.

    With trembling hands and clumsy fingers, he went for the pouch on her belt, opened its drawstring and pulled out the potion inside. He unstoppered the vial with red liquid and took her chin gently into his hand, placed the potion to her lips and poured. Her grimy, damp skin was cool to the touch and Fritz took it as a bad sign. Even when the last drop of the potion was gone, she still didn¡¯t stir.

    There was a shuffling from behind, like something dragging itself toward him and Fritz wished he had been sensible enough to keep his dagger on him worried than one of the hounds had survived or stayed while the others fled. A figure pulled itself through the smoke, wheezing and¡­ cursing the Spire and Fritz¡¯s name.

    Bert, Fritz thought relieved and called out through the smog, ¡°Bert over here! Sid¡¯s¡­ hurt she¡¯s-¡± He couldn¡¯t bring himself to say rest but Bert finally stumbled to his feet and staggered over to where they both lay. He looked terrible, so many bite marks, scratches and cuts but gave Fritz a grimace and said, ¡°I¡¯m okay, what about Sid?¡±

    Relieved that at least Bert was okay Fritz turned back to Sid looking for any sign of improvement, but found none. Maybe her skin was getting warmer? He put the back of his hand to her forehead. No, still cold, too cold.

    Sid let out a groaning breath and her heart thudded once.

    Then Sid lay still.

    Fritz wept.

 Chapter 54

    There was a sharp intake of breath, a ragged cough and a croak of, ¡°Stop crying,¡± left Sid¡¯s bloody lips. Fritz blearily wiped the tears from his stinging eyes, blubbering out something incomprehensible even to himself. But he suspected the emotions he was trying to convey did reach her, on some level.

    Sid smiled on one side of her face, or at least tried to, it quickly turned to a wince then a grimace. She looked down at the ruin of her breastplate, her eyes going wide at the gaping holes and collapsed metal.

    ¡°Hound got me good,¡± Sid said as she struggled against the armour compressing her chest and confining her breathing.

    ¡°Hound got you bad alright,¡± Bert corrected hoarsely as Fritz took a moment to gather his wits, or what was left of them.

    ¡°Where¡¯d the Hound go? Did you kill it?¡± Sid asked as she fiddled with the breastplate¡¯s broken clasps.

    ¡°It ran,¡± Fritz spat, ¡°Like the cowardly cur it is. I expect it¡¯s waiting up there in ambush,¡± He added motioning up the hill to the slab of green marble and the long shadow it cast.

    ¡°Damn it to the Abyss,¡± Sid said frustrated at both the answer and the breastplate as it stubbornly refused to come off.

    ¡°Bloody dog,¡± Bert agreed. ¡°Threw me around like a doll.¡±

    ¡°Got me pretty bad too. Not as bad as you two, but still, ouch,¡± Fritz commiserated.

    ¡°Where¡¯d all the weird fire come from? Did you secretly get an Ability from the faeries or something? Cheater,¡± Bert groused.

    ¡°No, it was in Quicksilver, it was almost like activating a Treasure. Never heard of such a thing before, but it happened. Here let me help you,¡± Fritz offered as Sid kept struggling with her armour.

    He waited for her to nod before he reached out to help with the warped clasps. With a small amount of straining they were able to pry the breastplate open, freeing Sid¡¯s chest from its twisted embrace.

    She slipped out of the armour gingerly, while Fritz looked pointedly away from the rent in her shirt and the scarred remains of a wound on her chest. It was too much skin for him to see in his delicate condition. His head swam, and joy at Sid¡¯s miraculous survival fluttered in his chest, he nearly leaned in to press her to him and embrace her, but was stopped by a numbing flare of cold over his chest and back. That and a mote of good sense still burned in his brain.

    Sid seemed to notice his determination not to look at her and soon saw why when she looked down. She reddened slightly but instead of letting out a squeak or squeal like Fritz expected she instead exhaled a wearied sigh as if too tired to care. She turned her cloaked back to him and, covered as she was, removed her bloody, torn, blue shirt and began to roughly mend it with needle and thread from her pack.

    To give the lady some modicum of privacy Fritz also turned, aching all over, and looked down to see his own ragged condition. A cut right through his makeshift scales and the previously red line across his skin had blackened. The Great Hound¡¯s venom had taken root even through such a shallow gash. Shuddering then ignoring his own, relatively minor, injuries he checked Bert next.

    Bert gave him a tired thumbs up from where he lay spreadeagled on the cold ground. While his bites were many, they were no longer bleeding and the black venom didn¡¯t seem to spread far from his wounds. In fact, the darkness in his veins seemed to be receding, slowly, but still noticeably shrinking. Still, he groaned, then requested, ¡°Bring my pack to me, gotta refill my necklace. Pretty sure it saved me.¡±

    Fritz nodded, and as the most capable he stood and retrieved the pack, hauling it to his fallen friend while making sure to keep an eye out for any danger. He spotted no lurking hounds, but saw his dagger on the way and picked it up as he walked. The pack was heavy but not as heavy as Bert complained it was, maybe it¡¯s because they had been steadily using up the golden heart or maybe Bert was just a lazy lout. Fritz decided to believe the latter and told Bert so.

    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®cause we used up the gold,¡± Bert protested. ¡°It was three, no, nine times as heavy before.¡±

    ¡°Sure it was, my mule of a companion,¡± Fritz agreed blandly, opening the pack and letting the heart roll out into Bert¡¯s reach. He touched his amulet to the gold, its gem glowing again with faint yellow light and the heart shrinking even more.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll have any left by the time we get out?¡± Fritz mused as he set his dagger and ring to the too quickly shrinking fortune.

    ¡°Not likely,¡± Sid stated unlooping then adding her belt to the mix, before taking it back and rapidly re-buckling it around her slim waist once it was full.

    Fritz glanced up at her, her shirt still bloody and torn but the major holes were fixed closed. He breathed a sigh of relief then Sid said, ¡°Shirt off. I¡¯ll mend that too.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to, its likely to be torn through again. Wouldn¡¯t want to waste your time,¡± Fritz objected politely, fully intent on letting her patch up his clothes but pretending to be gracious.

    ¡°Have it your way,¡± Sid agreed.

    Thwarted by his own performance, Fritz asked, ¡°How are you holding up? I thought you were dead for a moment there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been better, my ribs ache and my ankle is still sprained. But after seeing what''s left of my breastplate I¡¯m not sure if I should be complaining,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°You will be when I tell you I had to use the last potion,¡± Fritz said.

    Sid waved the comment off, saying, ¡°You did right, Fritz, I owe you one.¡±

    ¡°No counting favours between friends,¡± Fritz espoused with a self-satisfied smile.

    Sid smiled at that, then Bert broke into their conversation with a loud cough, ¡°What do we do now?¡±

    Fritz¡¯s smile faded and Sid answered for him, ¡°We hunt down that bloody beast and kill it, then cut it up for monster parts.¡±

    ¡°How are we gonna do that?¡± Bert asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t even see its claw coming. With all this venom in me, I¡¯m too sluggish and slow to pose a threat to that thing. It¡¯s tiring just to talk.¡±

    ¡°We have a limit to how long we can stay, with both the moon falling and Fritz¡¯s cut,¡± Sid explained. ¡°The sooner we¡¯re moving, the better.¡±

    They both turned their gazes to Fritz as if expecting some great heroics as if there were a cunning plan or a miracle he could conjure up to save them all. He was about to berate them and tell them there wasn¡¯t a chance at victory but the looks in their eyes stopped him. They both believed in him, even if they teased and taunted, there was trust and a surety in their minds that he could lead them through anything. That he would be a peerless Guide.

    Bert of course had trusted him for years, but Fritz didn¡¯t know when exactly Sid had started trusting him so heavily as well. Perhaps it was just now after saving her life, or maybe it was before and he was too preoccupied with his own feelings to notice.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to fight it,¡± Fritz said seriously, all pretence dropped.

    ¡°Not alone,¡± Bert argued.

    ¡°Not alone,¡± Fritz agreed. ¡°Never alone,¡± He added with a bittersweet smile. ¡°But you two will have to stay out of it. You¡¯ll be support, striking where and when I call for it.¡±

    He expected a token amount of protest from Bert but he was silent, seemingly both of the crew were glad he was taking command of the team. Sid nodded gravely, but could almost feel her place, no, he could feel her place her trust in him. It was an odd ineffable impression and he supposed it was his Awareness that let him sense what was hidden behind Sid¡¯s rough demeanour. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t as complicated as all that, maybe they were just closer than ever.

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    Fritz flexed his burnt palm. He tore a patch off his shirt, wet it and wrapped it over the line of blistered, melted flesh. He hissed, then strode to retrieve Quicksilver from where it still stood, stabbed into the cold dirt. It looked different, changed or tortured by the fire it spewed forth.

    Wrapping the hilt again with more strips of his shirt then pulling the blade free Fritz wondered at the transformation wrought by the weird warping flame.

    Quicksilver would need a new name, Fritz supposed. The edge and blade had been scorched a glossy black, its tiny hooks and teeth somewhat smoother and smaller but still jagged, still saw-like. The opaline core remained silvery with those flecks of prismatic colour, but a thin, blue-green crack ran down its centre. The broken line glowed dimly, like a dying ember, and branched down from the hilt almost like a tree, and vaguely like a willow. The fine fissure hadn''t weakened the blade any, if anything, it felt sturdier, sharper and far more dense as if tempered by the eldritch flame.

    Or maybe it didn¡¯t need a new name, even if it was no longer really silver, save for the line of its core, he had grown fond of Quicksilver and what would his foes care if his blade¡¯s name was accurate?

    A good way to confuse your enemy too, Fritz thought absently. I should probably get around to naming the dagger, lest Bert name it something stupid, like Bert¡¯s bane.

    Musing while he walked he approached Sid and still lost in his inner world said, ¡°Sid, take off your belt.¡±

    ¡°So bold, Fritz. Who knew you had it in you?¡± Bert said, then whistled as if in appreciation of his bravery.

    Sid looked at Fritz aghast, reddening then once her surprise wore off she glared and growled out ¡°What!?¡±

    ¡°Not like that!¡± Fritz spluttered stupidly, ¡°I need it to fight the Hound. The boon might save my life.¡±

    ¡°Then ask like a normal person don¡¯t go telling ladies to take off their belts,¡± Sid spluttered, her flushed expression returning, dampened into flustered frustration rather than her full fury.

    ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t a lady,¡± Bert added grinning, seemingly enjoying the situation.

    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± Sid snapped.

    ¡°Sorry, Sid. Had something else on my mind. Wasn¡¯t thinking,¡± Fritz said sincerely.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Sid said, spitting some worryingly bloody spit to the side and slipping her belt off. She must have seen his concern because she added, ¡°I¡¯ll be better once we get to to Well room. Here take it.¡±

    Sid held out the belt to Fritz and he took it gratefully, securing his pants with the snug-fitting Treasure. He ran his thumb over the white scales appreciating their slick smoothness.

    ¡°Exquisite,¡± He murmured.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get eaten. I don¡¯t want to lose all the Treasures we found in here,¡± Sid said as she looked over the twisted remains of her breastplate and sighed.

    ¡°We can get it repaired,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe,¡± Sid said resigned.

    Fritz swished his changed blade through the air just to get a feel for its new form. It wasn¡¯t exactly heavier but it did feel more weighty as it cut through the wind with a whistle that bordered on a wail.

    ¡°Want to take my necklace?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°I would if you didn¡¯t need it to fight off all that venom in your blood,¡± Fritz said.

    Bert grimaced but nodded his agreement as one of the green gemstones in his amulet flashed a pale yellow and surrounded him in an aura of that same light which rapidly sank into his skin.

    ¡°One last refill?¡± Bert suggested.

    ¡°Will the big Hound let us?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s biding its time for now. It would¡¯ve attacked already if it was going to stop us from regrouping and recuperating. It''s obviously waiting to ambush us in the dark under the stairway¡¯s slab,¡± Fritz theorised.

    ¡°What stops us from taking a rest and recovering fully-¡± Bert began before he was cut off by the howls of the blight hounds, and the moon¡¯s echoing answer. The shining silver sky fell further, getting ever closer and it showed no signs of stopping.

    ¡°Because the moon is falling in truth now,¡± Fritz said in a daze ¡°It¡¯s almost here, almost reunited, it won''t be alone any longer,¡± he intoned with a note of hazy prophecy.

    ¡°Why now?¡± Sid spat. ¡°We¡¯re so close.¡±

    Fritz shook his head, ¡°A curse? A test? Maybe it has nothing to do with us at all? Who knows? This world was on the brink when we arrived, we only ever had so much time,¡± Fritz surmised, almost as if talking to himself as he stared up into the flawless metallic moonscape and was transfixed by its immensity.

    He was pulled from his reverie when Sid pressed the last bit of the golden heart at him, thumping him in the chest and causing a cold ache to throb from his wound.

    Taking what remained of the gold and struggling with its weight, he refilled his Treasures, and even tentatively tried it on Quicksilver, in case it had somehow become imbued. He had heard of it happening, normal or weapons made of exotic materials becoming Treasures in their own right, but the details of such ascensions were secrets or just pure fantastical rumour. There was no reaction to and Fritz sighed, it had been too much to ask for, especially after its malevolently miraculous stream of flame.

    Gold flaked away until what was left was no bigger than his clenched fist. Straining he placed the still heavy heart back into Bert¡¯s pack. He motioned to his crew and they stood painfully and shouldered their packs, Fritz went to pick up his own but Bert waved him off shouldering both their burdens.

    ¡°Least I can do, won''t be much use in a fight,¡± Bert explained shakily.

    Fritz thought to argue but seeing the determination on Bert¡¯s face dissuaded him of the notion. They spoke quietly, forming the bare bones of a plan, it wasn¡¯t a brilliant strategy by any means but they had something to work with. Unfortunately, it seemed that most of Fritz¡¯s Abilities save his Danger Sense and Gloom Strike would be fairly useless in a fight with the Hound. What with it being obviously aligned to shadow, likely able to see through his illusion and having too many legs to trip easily with Stone Pit. But he made his plans anyway preparing to meet fang and claw with metal and bone.

    Fritz steadied himself, mind and body, focused his control and will on the task ahead. He strode up the grey slope of the hill and gradually felt the moon¡¯s weight fall heavier upon his shoulders. He was glad the other two couldn¡¯t feel the oppressive pressure as keenly. He wouldn¡¯t let it stop him, not the Moon, not the Hound, nothing would stop him from ascending to the pinnacle with his crew. He swore it silently to himself as he approached the shadow of the green slab that housed the last Stairway.

    Fritz stood by the dark threshold scanning the shadows for any sign of the Great Hound but was found wanting, even with his powerful perception. His Awareness was only slightly more use, warning that the black beast was definitely here, lurking invisibly, ready to pounce if Fritz showed any weakness.

    Activating both his ring and the belt of the moon serpent Fritz stepped into the darkness, hunting for his hidden foe. The near-invisible field covered his body and he felt his movements become easier, smoother, more reactive while the belt¡¯s scales gleamed a soft white. The Aspect of the Serpent¡¯s effects didn¡¯t just apply to his body, Fritz noticed. It was as if the world had slowed down minutely while his mind and body moved at the same speed, it was a slight thing but he knew it¡¯d make all the difference in this fight. Every moment would count against the Hound.

    As if on cue Fritz felt the premonition of his stomach being split by a cold, curved claw. He slipped past the Beast''s paw as it slashed out of the shadow, the motion was smooth, skilful, and dodging it was far beyond his normal limits. Lashing out at the suddenly striking leg with Quicksilver, Fritz cut away a patch of fur and repelled the attack but his blade¡¯s edge caught and was stopped by the Hound¡¯s too tough hide. He rapidly pulled back on his blackened sword and swung it between him and fast closing jaws. His blade met a shining silver fang with a screech and a spattering of blue sparks.

    Moving with the strength of the bite Fritz went into a controlled spin, letting the Hound¡¯s head rush past him. He wreathed his bone dagger in the dancing shadows of Gloom Strike and called the bitter curse from the dagger¡¯s depths. Fritz stabbed the curved point into the black fur as it brushed past, using the Beast''s own terrible speed against it and burying the blade between its ribs.

    He didn¡¯t bother to try and hold on to the dagger as it was wrenched from his grip and he predicted a kick, easily dodging the strike from the Hound¡¯s back leg as it sprinted past. It was a black blur, barely able to be seen in the dark of the slab¡¯s shadow and Fritz saw it barrel towards Bert.

    ¡°Bert, Acid!¡± Fritz yelled. His voice sounding slowly in his ears.

    Bert only had a moment''s warning but it was enough as he lifted his palm and showered the area in front of himself just as they planned. The Hound swerved changing targets almost instantly and darting away from the spray of misting liquid before it could melt its hide.

    Sid seemed to have already noticed the beast change direction and was holding forth her Treasure, the gaudy golden ring of the Goblin chief.

    ¡°Sit!¡± Sid ordered, a grey pulse emitted from the Treasure and into the silver sky where the command was scattered, magnified then rained down upon the hill in waves.

    The compulsion washed over the Hound causing it to stagger, stiffen and slow, but not stop, within a moment it sped right back up and Sid rolled out of its path at the very last second while an arrow glanced off its fur. Fritz cursed, they had hoped the ring would be able to stall the creature for longer. Long enough at least for them to get in some clean attacks, but it seemed this monster was far too powerful to be bound by the Ability.

    Unfortunately the same couldn¡¯t be said for Bert as he promptly sat cross-legged on the ground. Sid, thankfully, seemed to be immune to her own Treasure¡¯s effects.

    As the Hound¡¯s attack was thwarted it retreated back into the slab¡¯s shade. Its fur roiled with tendrils of shadow and faded away into the darkness, disappearing before Fritz¡¯s very eyes. He stretched his senses to the limit, Focusing every ounce of his Awareness on a patch of slightly distorted shadow he thought he could see. It moved, gradually, stealthily not making a sound or disturbing the loose soil it skulked over with its huge paws.

    Fritz smirked, he could see it. He pretended not to, instead he turned his head this way and that as if fearfully looking for its ambush. He didn¡¯t have to fake the fear entirely but he always kept the dark distortion in his peripheral vision. The silence rang in his ears, sweat beaded and dripped from his brow as he held Quicksilver poised to thrust forward.

    When the Hound leapt he was ready.

    He felt it first through his Danger Sense, his quick vicious death, fangs tearing through his neck. Then he saw the distortion surge and the Beast bounded out of its invisibility to bite out this throat. Fritz moved as it did, though he was slower far slower than the Hound he could read its attacks before it made them, closing some of the distance between their difference in Power. His blackened sword came up in a rapid thrust, just where the Beast¡¯s burn-scarred head was going to be. Its eyes pulsed and pulled in the light, its entire body seemed to fade, straddling the line between seen and unseen, shadow and light.

    Fritz¡¯s blade passed right through the darkly translucent Hound. His sword made no cut in its bared fangs, jaw, then neck as it rushed through, it was as if it were made of shadow and just as impossible to slash. Shadow? The realisation gave Fritz a suspicion and he called forth his Gloom Strike, coating his own blade in the same energies the Hound wielded while the sword was still within its hide.

    Fritz felt Quicksilver catch and nearly be pulled from his grip but he grasped then held onto its nearly non-existent hilt with both hands as it tore a rent in and over the Beast¡¯s back leg. It cried out in a whining tone one that hurt his ears and his heart with a stab of pity. A false stab. He pulled the blade away, not wanting to cause any more distress to the Hound as it ran past. A FALSE PITY, Fritz roared at himself, snapping out of the manipulation near instantly. But the moment had passed and the Hound had melted away into the shadow again.

    It wasn¡¯t enough that the hound had such a powerful command of shadow, no, it also had to have mind influencing effects. Fritz nearly screamed, he should have suspected it when the howls had nearly sent him to the ground, but it was no use recriminating himself now, he had a hound to hunt and now he knew how to find it.

    Knowing what he was looking for he quickly spotted the Hound¡¯s blurry form as it attempted to sneak up on Sid as she watched and waited for Fritz¡¯s orders. Obviously, it wanted to kill the archer with the odd Treasure before it was peppered with arrows or stunned again. He thought he saw it stop, then he knew, somehow, that it was preparing a mighty leap.

    But not on Sid. It was hard to notice and he felt like a fool for letting himself slip up but the numbness in his chest wasn¡¯t just from his previously poisoned cut. The Hound is going to gut me with a Gloom Strike. He had been lured into a trap and a trick.

    The Hound leapt straight at Fritz. Covering the distance between them in a moment. His whole body felt frozen like he was under the eerie waves of the Spire¡¯s lake again.

    His death was coming and he could barely feel it.

 Chapter 55

    Fritz reactivated all his Treasures in a panic and ducked under the soaring shadow. His barrier burst as soon as it appeared, and time slowed slightly, letting him turn his dodge into a controlled roll under the Hound¡¯s raking, roiling, black-tarred claws. Sensing danger, he used his barrier ring again reducing a deadly blow to his back to a stinging line of cold pain. The powerful parting strike knocked him to the ground face first and he inhaled a mouthful of dry dirt.

    Pushing himself up and back to his feet was a pain and was made all the more difficult by his injuries and the terrible weight of the moon as it loomed overhead. Fritz coughed and spluttered but rose anyway with a blood-slick Quicksilver in hand. He turned to face his foe, counting a tally of his Treasure¡¯s remaining capacities and weighing his own fatigue.

    He had used the ring and the belt twice now, rendering them with one use left each, that is if his ring actually had three Capacity. He cursed that he never thought to check, he wouldn¡¯t be making that mistake again, one way or another. His stamina reserves were a different situation entirely, while he had come into the fight feeling fine, he could feel the drain from the tarry venom slowly slithering through his veins. Every act was becoming more taxing, every step tired him, and with every beat of his heart the numbing sensation spread.

    Still, he faced the Hound, preparing to face another swift charge. What he saw made him grin viciously. The great beast wasn¡¯t even looking at him, it had its head curled to the side and was attempting to bite and pull something from its side. My dagger, almost forgot about it, Fritz remembered, that¡¯s right pull it out and suffer.

    As if it heeded his command it did so, tearing the bone blade free and dropping it to the grey soil. It staggered slightly as thick black blood poured from the wound. If it had been any other dagger it might have been no more than a painful cut, something that would heal quickly enough. But the beast hadn¡¯t counted on the curse held within the blade. Its wound didn¡¯t stop bleeding and it sniffed at the free flowing cut and growled, spinning its head toward and locking its gaze upon the one responsible for the bitter hurt.

    Fritz stopped grinning as his Danger Sense flared all over his body, feeling the multiple bites, slashes and breaking bones that were to happen in mere moments. He called on his barrier ring, hoping it would have one more use. The shield encased him even as he pulled on the belt using its other imbued Ability. He felt noxious magic flow into him and fly up his arm into and over Quicksilver, causing it to drip with viscous black-green venom.

    The Hound rushed him and his blade, Fritz stepped out of the way of the sliver fangs, his boon-enhanced body now more able to keep up with his powerful senses and caught a shadowed claw with a parry. He dragged his sword''s tiny black teeth over its paw as he repelled the blow, shearing into its flesh and delivering the deadly venom.

    He knew if he didn¡¯t have his high Perception and Awareness the beast¡¯s Gloom Strike would have killed him. But he did, and he forced the Hound to retreat as he thrust forward with a well-practised and precise riposte. Quicksilver¡¯s sharp point struck the middle of the Hound¡¯s brow, missing its light-eating eye by a hair, due to a last-second dodge. The strike barely cut through the Hound¡¯s hide and was stopped completely by its skull, jarring his arm.

    Fritz felt the phantom pain of his forearm crushed by mighty jaws and quickly withdrew, silver fangs bit down about to tear off his hand at the wrist, but instead, his barrier let him slip away with only a burning, bleeding gash over his arm. Its fang had parted his flesh like paper and had left searing-cold, sliver spittle over the wound.

    Fritz hissed, then screamed, dropping Quicksilver, ducking under a sweeping claw and rapidly retrieving his sword with his clumsy, numb hand. Danger Sense warned him of an impending bite that cut out when a whistling arrow thudded into the Hound¡¯s neck, driving deep and stopping the attack.

    Through the haze of pain, Fritz could see Sid aiming her bow at the beast as it turned its gaze on her. It was about to run at her when Sid loosed another arrow and called out,¡°Stay!¡±

    Again the command reverberated off the metal moon and across the barren plains, this time though more of the Treasures magic was focused upon the Hound, rather than the scattered indiscriminate order from before. Fritz was stunned by the compulsion, but so too was the Hound, stopping mid-step and trembling against the mental bonds.

    Slipping through the imagined ropes of mind magic, Fritz sprinted forward, activated the belt¡¯s venom and chopped down onto the frozen Hound¡¯s neck with Quicksilver. Its venom-slick edge met the black fur and cut a small furrow into the beast''s hide. He cursed, the blow had been more like a cut from shaving rather than the decapitating strike he envisioned. Fritz pulled the blade down across the side of its thick neck, putting his whole weight into the movement and grunting with the effort. The hound turned its boiled white eye on him, growling as it struggled against the magic holding it.

    Quicksilver tore into the flesh with difficulty and he felt like he was going to be hit in the chest with a hammer, but he kept to his course, attempting to saw through the Hound''s tough skin and cut into its vital veins. His sword struck silver bone and ground upon it with a whine, Fritz''s arms ached and burnt as he pushed and pulled, spilling venom into the slowly growing wound. The hound stopped struggling and blurred, Fritz was slammed with a vicious force, knocked from his feet and flung nine feet away.

    His back hit the ground, the wind was driven from his lungs and Quicksilver clanged to the dirt beside him. Fritz expected to die then and there, motionless as he was, his ears rang with Sid¡¯s screaming, and Bert¡¯s bellows. But death didn¡¯t come, yet. Danger Sense was quiet, he took in a breath, then another, then he seized his sword and stood, using Quicksilver to prop himself up as he gasped through bruised and probably broken ribs.

    He stared at the hound as it staggered, stumbled and steamed, with acid searing its skin and another arrow shaft planted in its side. Its eyes glanced this way and that, hatefully assessing, pitilessly scheming. It sat upon its haunches, inhaled an enormous breath, bent its head to the silver sky and howled.

    The air around the beast rippled in waves, a cloud of dust burst out in a ring. The sheer force of the sound sent Fritz and his crew to their knees, the clarity of the note sent them reeling and screaming, all other noise drowned out by the violent pitch. Then it was the moon''s turn, Fritz saw his friends fall limp as the calamitous echo cascaded down. It was more than just sound, more than just a howl, there was a tearing terrible pain, a hollowness that rang in the soul.

    While Fritz was kneeling covering his ears weeping and screaming, his gaze was drawn inevitably to the Hound. It was pulling in the silver light, its fur drinking in the power and turning the blackest black he had seen outside of a nightmare. Fritz got the terrible sense that it was burning its own energy and life for a burst of dark power and cruel cleansing. No longer did it even look like a hound, it stretched and thinned, taking on the taller more terrible visage of its lesser kin, save for it being a shadow, a void, a wrongness in the world.

    The howling ceased, and the sky was silent. The Hound lowered its head and stared at Fritz. It had no eyes that he could see, but he knew it glared at him ravenously and he knew that it was going to eat him. Fritz quavered for a moment under that gaze and saw motes of black and shadow wisp off of the Hound¡¯s body like smoke and ember. He wished he was anywhere but here, not in the Spire, living out his only life somewhere anywhere else.

    No! Snap out of it! One last stand!

    Stand? He was kneeling and the Hound was preparing to charge, salivating black tar, clamouring to consume him.

    How can I stand? His legs were numb and would not move.

    You always push too much. How about one last push? Fritz could do that, he drew Quicksilver up from where it had been stabbed into the dirt and used it to push himself to his his feet.

    His whole body ached, his legs trembled, and his back and chest pulsed with numbing cold. His ears were wet with blood and still ringing. His vision was dark at the edges but he was determined to survive. No, he was determined to live and to live well, with his friends and with his family. He wouldn¡¯t die here, not to some bloody big, bloody black, bloody dumb dog.

    He called upon all his wits, guile and will to stand and stand tall. Fritz straightened his back, stilled his tremors and flourished his blade in invitation. He smirked confidently, hopefully infuriatingly, at the Beast, knowing full well that all his Treasures were depleted and his stamina was all but spent.

    This was his last chance.

    ¡°Have at you then!¡± Fritz challenged, his voice dull and quiet to his damaged ears.

    The hound flickered and disappeared, Fritz felt his body freeze with an icy cold that he could hardly comprehend, but it was merely an echo, a premonition of his end. It was hard to tell which direction the Hound would strike so he felt with his Awareness concentrating on the false cold. There, on his back was a point from which his demise radiated.

    Fritz spun to face the Hound thrusting Quicksilver forward in a long lunge, his blade passing through the shadowy, translucent flesh without cutting. The Hound''s silver fangs came down on his neck even as he pushed his useless blade deeper. Then just before the jaws closed around his neck and tore out his throat, at that moment with an exacting, precise motion Fritz placed Quicksilver where he needed it to be.

    Right... there! He activated Gloom Strike. The shadows poured forth from his centre, coalescing over his sword. He felt his darkly empowered blade cut away the incorporeal flesh, shear through insubstantial muscles and pierce its void-black heart.

    Fangs met Fritz¡¯s neck, but no bite followed. Hot black blood spilled over his hand from the heart rending wound and the beast whined its last into his ear. The Hound died.

    The deep shadows fled its form, revealing sickly pale skin and it slumped to the grey dirt without another sound, Quicksilver lodged in its chest like a bitter spike. Silence followed, and the sky shook, trembling in grief perhaps. The silence filled Fritz completely, hollowing out his mind body and soul, then it took his vision.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    And he saw no more.

    ---

    Sid was watching Fritz face down the monstrous black thing she could barely see in the shadows. She struggled to get up from where she lay, the howling had knocked her out for a moment and she still couldn¡¯t feel her body, though it was starting to buzz uncomfortably. She locked her eyes on the scene before her, willing herself to stand, but without much use. She was stuck there. Watching uselessly, weakly as Fritz was about to be killed. And worst of all she almost wished it were her facing death instead. What had that dumb, pretty idiot done to her?

    Sid felt tears coming but pushed them away, she needed clear eyes to witness his last stand. She saw Fritz take a haughty stance and slash his sword flashily, then he smiled.

    No, he smirked,. The prick! How dare he smirk at his death, the smug bastard! Sid raged in her head.

    The thing disappeared completely from her sight and in the same moment she saw Fritz spin and thrust his sword out like some fancy fencer, stabbing into the tall, dark silhouette of the Hound as it reappeared behind him. The strike had been nearly perfect, but it left no mark on its hide. The Hound made to bite his neck, Sid tried to cry out but her throat wouldn¡¯t obey her. And as suddenly as it appeared the shadow fled, and left in its place was a pale, ugly blight hound with Quicksilver spiked through its chest.

    Sid did cry then, but only a couple of tears, not for Fritz as he fell like some tragic hero, definitely not, it was just all the stress. Idiot Fritz, you better not be dead! She demanded of the quiet.

    ---

    Bert staggered to his feet after Fritz fell like a sack of fish. He wobbled over to where his friend lay, wincing from the cold and the numbness, he was really getting sick of being poisoned. He knelt and looked him over, checking Fritz¡¯s wounds. He wasn¡¯t looking good, but he wasn¡¯t dead, that was good enough for Bert as he made to pick him up and haul him the last mile if he had to.

    ¡°Is he okay?¡± A voice croaked from behind him.

    ¡°No, but he¡¯s not dead,¡± Bert said, his voice coming out unusually hoarse.

    ¡°Good,¡± Sid sighed, relief plain in her voice. She made a choking noise as if holding off tears, and Bert nearly smiled. Really the two of them were such fools.

    Bert went to lift his blood brother but Sid stopped him with a suggestion, ¡°Wait a moment before you move him. We have to cut the seed from this thing.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just catch up?¡± Bert groused.

    Sid just stared at him blankly, and Bert sheepishly said, ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll wait. But hurry up, sky¡¯s falling.¡±

    The moon moved again and Bert thought he could feel some of that weight Fritz had been whining about.

    Sid knelt by the dead hound in all its ugly gory glory and began to cut its rib cage open with Fritz¡¯s bone dagger that she must have recovered from where it fell. Bert looked at the foul beast¡¯s corpse and decided that it was disgusting and that he hated it. He nodded to himself. Yes, my monster companion will be far greater than that thing, just you wait Spires, Bert daydreamed.

    ¡°Hold his fish blade,¡± Sid said handing off the sticky blood-drenched ¡®sword¡¯ to him.

    ¡°Of course. He would have a fit if we left it behind. Or he¡¯d cry. Let¡¯s hide it when he wakes up, then pretend we forgot it,¡± Bert suggested.

    Sid stopped searching through the opened chest of the hound and asked, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I uhh. Thought it¡¯d be funny,¡± Bert replied, a little disconcerted by the question.

    ¡°He just cleared the way to the staircase and saved our arses. We can cut him some slack for that right?¡± Sid said coolly.

    ¡°Okay. When you put it like that it seems a little mean to lie to him,¡± Bert said deflated. ¡°We do it your way then.¡±

    Bert wiped Fritz¡¯s fish blade clean on his vest, not caring about the dark stains as he¡¯d have to use its refresh imbuement later anyway. Then he placed the mostly clean blade through the top loops of Fritz''s pack and watched Sid as she rooted through the hound''s remains.

    Sid tore some dark twisted organ from the beast¡¯s open guts and yelled in triumph, Bert had thought it had been the Hound¡¯s heart but it must¡¯ve been the mysterious Aberrant Seed they kept going on about. Soon he would learn what Seeds did and if they¡¯d be helpful in his own plans. He rubbed absently at a pocket on his pack, mumbling, ¡°Soon.¡±

    Sid stored the palm-sized, malformed sphere into a pouch and stood, she stared down at the dead Hound, and asked, ¡°Do you think we could drag it?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Bert hedged, not wanting to put in the effort.

    ¡°I think we should, fangs and bones seem to be made of some kind of silver. Could be worth a lot,¡± Sid stated.

    Fritz groaned in his unconscious state, Sid and Bert looked at him, then at each other. They quickly packed what little was scattered close by. Bert lifted Fritz over his shoulder, finding his friend surprisingly light.

    ¡°Wracked with spindle-itus,¡± Bert said shaking his head and grabbing a back leg of the dead hound while Sid seized the other. ¡°Hope it has a cure,¡± He grunted as they started dragging the much too heavy, tar-leaking corpse.

    They pulled themselves toward the Stairway, the moon getting ever closer and the weight bearing down on them. They panted and sweated, toiling up the grey hill.

    So heavy, so tired, Bert activated his wonderful amulet once again, then fed it gold triads from his pouch.

    They pressed on, through the crushing pressure, a host of lesser hounds following, without any intent to attack, just licking at their Lord¡¯s trail of blood.

    They made it to the top and saw the Stairway, too tired to whoop and yell in excitement they trudged forward. They passed into the green marble stairway, lay down their burdens and sat on the stairs unable to take another step from weariness. They looked through the arch into the bleached grey world as the moon fell ever closer.

    ---

    Fritz awoke, it was not one of the best ways to wake, he was cold and numb all over, his arms burnt and his chest felt hollow, but he was alive, he knew that much, you couldn¡¯t be in so much pain if you were dead. He groaned opening his eyes to green marble stairs, then turning his gaze to the two figures sitting beside him watching the grey wastes as the sky closed in.

    Relief flooded him, both his crew were safe and in the stairway, just as he had planned. Well, not exactly planned, but he had hoped. But why hadn¡¯t they carried themselves all the way up to the Well? He searched their faces and saw they were utterly exhausted, and it looked as though they were transfixed by the sight beyond the stairway¡¯s arch.

    Fritz also looked out, seeing the skeletal, bleached forest stretch out as far as his eyes could see, broken only by the hill and its ring of barren soil. The metallic sky was falling quicker, faster and faster. He thought he could hear more howls, what was left of the blight hounds weeping in joy? Despair? Surrender? The silver moons surface broke the tallest bleached branches, they snapped and shattered, the sound was like a storm of endlessly cracking lightning.

    The archway flickered, between black and grey then became a solid sheet of green marble, the world beyond lost, forever.

    He heard both Sid and Bert sigh, it was somewhat of a surprise to think that they could appreciate what they had just seen, just endured, really. Were the Spire floors real worlds? Or just constructions, or even illusions made real by the Spires. Fritz tried to shake the questions out of his head but found it hurt too much and it wasn¡¯t really the time to contemplate such things anyway.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get moving shall we, I¡¯m in rather a lot of pain, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± Fritz croaked out as regally as he could. ¡°I may even be dying.¡±

    There was movement, then there was rustling, and everything went dark again. He felt like he was carried, floating in the black. A burning cold light coursed through his mind, body and Sanctum. His world was lit up again and let him see where he was and where he now lay. Most of his aches and pains had fled and he now felt warm from the slight dry breeze flowing over him.

    He opened his eyes and stared blearily around the room. It was similar to the very first landing room but with a forest of blue-green crystal pillars dancing with weird light within. The green marble walls were gone, replaced with a clear glass that revealed a view of an eerie lake rippling below them under a dome of smooth stone.

    Distracted as he was by the familiar sight of the lake, he instead checked on his crew and saw them smiling at him. They were weary but healed, probably by the large misshapen orb that burned with a blue-green light and sat in the centre of the room. The Well, he supposed and found that his hand was pressed to it and that he could feel new Power spinning in his centre. That can come later, he told himself, sitting up and watching his crew with mounting excitement.

    They all seemed to realise the importance, the near impossibility of the climb they just completed in the same moment.

    They looked at one another, their grins got wider, and Fritz''s eyes began to leak as he took their ecstatic expressions in. Fierce joy bubbled and boiled over.

    They broke out into uproarious laughter, mad peals of cackling and insane mirth. They whooped and cheered, and Fritz stood and took them both into his arms. They embraced each other in a huddle, and not just for warmth this time, this time it was in gratitude, comfort and no little love.

    Against all odds; they had done it; they had survived; they had won.

    ¡°We did it?¡± Fritz asked in a glorious haze.

    ¡°We did!¡± They cried together.

    Then the Well pulsed with golden light.

 Chapter 56

    Fritz, Sid and Bert promptly stopped celebrating, breaking their embrace and staring at the flaring of golden light within the crystalline, orb-like Well.

    ¡°Golden Climb,¡± Sid intoned reverently.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Bert asked nervously.

    ¡°The same thing as claiming Power. I guess,¡± Fritz said uncertainly.

    ¡°Should we choose our Abilities first?¡± Sid suggested.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± Fritz said. ¡°Never asked my father about Golden Climbs.¡±

    Sid sighed, and Bert took a step towards the misshapen sphere and placed his hand upon it. Fritz could see some of the golden light fade from the Well and slip up his friend¡¯s arm and into his chest, disappearing into his Sanctum.

    For a surprised moment they didn¡¯t speak then Fritz asked ¡°Feel any different?¡±

    Bert looked over his hand then down to his chest and replied, ¡°It¡¯s yelling in my Sanctum, have to go check it out.¡±

    After his ¡®explanation¡¯ Bert quickly sat and visited his Sanctum. Sid smiled at Fritz and placed her hand on the Well, claiming her golden prize. Fritz was quick to follow and felt the warm, celebratory energies rush up his arm and into his Sanctum, where it bounced and begged to be accepted.

    He sat, beside Sid and plunged into his centre, following the dull pull of that cold star, and falling into his Sanctum.

    It was raining, light spun around his willow and danced in the cloudy sky like quietly chiming bolts of lightning. There was certainly Power here, maybe not as much as his third level, when he gained his Path a Trait and an Ability, but still plenty to be used. He searched the muddy garden, then his pavilion for the golden light but was surprised to see it glowing in glyphic form upon the trunk of his willow.

    The strange glyph seemed to read, ¡®Sunken Spire¡¯ to his mind if not his eyes. Fritz wandered over to where it was carved and traced his fingers over its glowing circle and odd lines. He tried to activate it and was rejected. It wasn¡¯t a harsh rejection, he read its intent as merely a warning that he should complete his other choices before claiming his Golden Climb rewards.

    Fritz shrugged supposing he shouldn¡¯t try and mess with this Sanctum stuff like he had with the eldritch flame, which was still watching him spitefully from where it was held prisoner. Thinking of the flame had him realise his arm did not hurt nearly as much any more, distracted as he was by the promise of power, he had completely forgotten about bracing himself for the pain.

    He looked down and studied his arm. It was a mass of white scar tissue, twisted and gnarled like the bark of an ancient tree. It still stung somewhat when he moved it and his fingers were stiff and uncomfortably numb but it no longer trembled and he could now dully feel the raindrops falling on his skin.

    Fritz let out a sigh of relief, though it wasn¡¯t fully recovered he knew it would get better with time. More Wells would also speed up the process immensely, especially, it seemed, Precipice Wells. He let himself be distracted by his ugly, root-like scars for only a minute before he turned his attention back to pressing matters.

    Powers.

    He felt for the energies suffusing his sanctum and responded with impressions and images of what he was offered.

    ---------

    Ability Evolution

    Illusory Shadow

    Choose One

    ---------

    Light Eater

    Illusory Shadow will be able to block light, cast a shadow and dispel magical light to a minor degree.

    Cost increase: Two.

    ---

    Smother Sound

    Illusory Shadow will be able to suppress sound and dispel magical sound to a minor degree.

    Cost increase: Two.

    ---

    Vast Dark

    Illusory Shadow¡¯s radius will be increased threefold.

    Cost increase: One.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait

    Choose One

    ---------

    Bitterheart

    Icy hatred, old and mean, held eternal, cold and keen.

    Activate and Align six points to the following advanced attributes Nightwell, Essence of Ice.

    Increases resistance to cold, ice and cuts while increasing vulnerability to heat, fire and force.

    Alignment: Ice, Shadow.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have survived freezing temperatures for many hours.

    You have been rejected by a fellow climber.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Shadow Aligned Abilities (Gloom Strike, Illusory Shadow).

    ---

    Eldritch Immolation

    Eerie burning, scorching skin, twisting turning, blaze within.

    Coat your skin and Sanctum in a layer of Eldritch Flame.

    Alignment: Chaos, Fire, Ruin, Shadow.

    Cost: Three per minute.

    Duration: Channelled.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have killed many blight hounds with Eldritch Flame.

    You have been burnt by Eldritch Flame.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    Cloak of Dusk

    Wrap yourself in twilight¡¯s cover, what¡¯s one shadow from another?

    Activate and Align six points to the following Advanced Attributes: Dusksong, Grace.

    While you are in shadow or low light you are harder to notice and track to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Glamour, Light, Mind, Shadow.

    Cost: None

    Duration: Passive, Suppressible.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Evolves from Twilight Kissed.

    You have treated with Faeries.

    You have attempted to be stealthy.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    Influenced by Shadow Aligned Abilities (Gloom Strike, Illusory Shadow).

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz went through the choices one by one, looking them all over before he made a rash choice. He winced then cursed at the ¡®rejected by a fellow climber¡¯ line in the description of Bitterheart but moved on quickly, not wanting to give the Spire its satisfaction.

    He focused first on the Path Ability Evolution, considering the perks of each selection. Light Eater gave him a counter to light sources and created shadows, that would synergise well with something like the Cloak of Dusk Trait. While Smother Sound also gave him another way to avoid detection or perhaps stop someone calling for help. As for the last Evolution, Fritz didn¡¯t exactly know what the explanation meant by ¡®radius¡¯ but the term ¡®Vast¡¯ clued him to its meaning. A threefold increase to his Ability¡¯s size would maybe be able to blanket an entire person or cover far more if he stretched it with his control. It also didn¡¯t increase the cost of the spell as much.

    Still, he leant toward the other two choices far more heavily, they added a new way to use the Power rather than just giving him more of the same. Well, he wouldn¡¯t choose right away anyway, not until he talked through his choices with his crew, though he suspected they¡¯d agree with him on most counts.

    Taking a look at the offered traits he went through the benefits and weaknesses of each.

    Bitterheart gave him access to not one but two Magical Attributes. One of which was Nightwell which he desperately needed to cast his Gloom Strike and Illusory Shadow without tiring himself out. The other, Essence of Ice, was less useful, basically useless if he was being truthful but maybe if he got an Ice aligned Ability like Frost Bolt or Ice knife in the future it might be worth taking. What irked him most of all about the ability, apart from the unfortunate line about rejection, was the resistances.

    In his mind, the increase of his resistance to ice, cold and cuts did not at all outweigh the negatives of a vulnerability to fire, heat and force. Weakening himself to force especially worried him, basically all physical strikes had force, and even some spells would have force as a component. That¡¯s not to mention the reduction to fire resistance, he had been burnt once and he shuddered to think how much worse even the mental injury could have been if he had been vulnerable to fire and heat.

    He¡¯d have to talk it out but he ruled the Trait as a maybe.

    The next in his list of wonderful choices was Eldritch Immolation. He already didn¡¯t like the name and its description was brief and to the point: Coat your skin and Sanctum in a layer of Eldritch Flame. So it was a set yourself on fire spell, with no mention of resistance or immunity. He suspected that this one was a supremely unsubtle ¡®piss off¡¯ from the Eldritch Flame imprisoned in his Sanctum. No, you piss off, he thought at the flame as it wiggled and crackled in his peripheral vision, you almost burnt off my imaginary arm you blazing bastard!

    Annoyed Fritz quickly turned his attention to this next Trait, not liking the gloating way the fire seemed to flicker.

    Fritz didn¡¯t know what to make of Cloak of Dusk, he knew next to nothing about the Dusksong Advanced Attribute but assumed it had something to do with the Glamour alignment on his Illusory Shadow Ability. Perhaps it was a Magic Attribute?

    Grace was nice, he had felt its effects when he used the Belt of the Moon Serpent¡¯s Ability and it would allow him to refine his movements to be truly perfect, or close to it. The passive effect of being harder to see in shadows and low light seemed extremely useful for his Role as a Scout, one he had been flailing his way through, getting caught by monsters the whole way through the Spire. With Grace and the passive combined his capacity to stay quiet and unobserved would definitely improve.

    The cloak also seemed to have the most synergy with Illusory Shadow, if he Evolved it with Light Eater he could create his own shadow to hide within, even if it only lasted for nine seconds, that could create an opportunity to slip by on a lantern-lit street.

    The only thing he was leery of was its obvious connection to Faeries, especially the Duskmoth, it practically, no literally, had her name written into it. It even said that it evolved from his Twilight Kiss Trait. Nothing good ever came from Treating with Faeries, did he dare test his fortune and guile, try to fight a fate of cruel misery, heedless of the warnings?

    Undecided and somewhat anxious, Fritz left his Sanctum and went to shake Bert out of his. Bert ignored him and after a minute a golden energy radiated off his seated form coalescing, in his lap and shaping itself into a rectangle of light. There was the sound of a bell ringing, or maybe something like the Tolling, then the radiance shifted and a small chest made of a polished dark wood came into being in its place.

    The chest fell lightly on his crossed legs seemed to shake Bert out of his Sanctum and he looked around as if seeing the world in a new light.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± Bert said, impressed with something Fritz couldn¡¯t see.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz said staring around.

    ¡°Oh, nothing, just the Spire Sigil¡¯s Bronze Award, it''s curious,¡± Bert explained, badly.

    ¡°The Spire what?¡± Fritz said prodding his friend. Who ignored him and looked down at the chest with a giddy grin, like a kid with a brand new toy.

    ¡°One of the Golden Climb rewards,¡± Bert said as he opened up the small wooden lid then let out a contented sigh when he saw what lay within.

    Gold, at least sixty but maybe as much as ninety golden triads lay neatly stacked, and there sitting on top of the glinting rows of gold was a small nut or seed of the same glorious hue.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Fritz said craning his head around to peer into the chest.

    ¡°Gold triads,¡± Bert replied.

    ¡°No, the seed thing,¡± Fritz said with only a hint of annoyance.

    ¡°It''s a Golden Seed,¡± Bert espoused smugly.

    ¡°Is it like an Aberrant Seed?¡± Fritz asked annoyed at Bert¡¯s obtuse responses.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Bert said as unhelpfully as ever.

    Suppressing the urge to strangle his blood brother, Fritz tried a different approach, asking, ¡°Wait, you selected your Trait and Evolution already?¡±

    Bert looked at him furtively then said, ¡°Yeah, the choices were obvious and I wanted to see what the Golden Climb would give.¡±

    ¡°And it gave you this chest and some awards?¡± Fritz inquired as politely as his annoyance would let him.

    Bert was about to speak when from out of the corner of his eye Fritz saw Sid also project an aura of golden light that took the rectangular shape, then materialised an identical wooden chest. Fritz scowled a little, did the others just pick their new Powers without a discussion?

    His frown quickly disappeared when Sid turned and beamed at him, he couldn¡¯t stay annoyed with that smile as it sparked joy in his heart.

    She quickly opened her chest as well finding it similarly filled with the stacks of gold triads and a single slightly glowing Seed. Sid giddily plucked the Seed from where it sat and stared at it intently, turning it over with her fingers and tracing the strange lines covering its surface.

    ¡°What have you got there Sid?¡± Fritz asked, knowing he¡¯d have more luck questioning her.

    ¡°Golden Seed,¡± She replied also unhelpfully, but more out of distraction than malice.

    Fritz soothed his nerves and sighed, knowing she wasn¡¯t doing it on purpose like Bert.

    Sid looked up at the noise and looked at him quizzically and asked, ¡°You haven¡¯t got your reward yet?¡±

    ¡°As I was saying to the font of frustration and stupidity that is Bert. I thought we were going to discuss our choices so our Powers worked well together. For the other Spires.¡±

    Sid looked shocked, then she frowned and looked away. Conflicting expressions cascaded over her features, her eyes began to wet with tears, and Fritz could see she was stifling heaving breaths and could almost see the repressed emotions boiling off her. Sid buried her face into her scarf, covering and wiping her eyes.

    ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡± Fritz asked worried he¡¯d somehow hurt her.

    ¡°No,¡± Sid stated, her voice muffled by the red wool.

    Fritz turned to Bert to see if he knew what he¡¯d done to elicit such a reaction, but he merely grinned knowingly back at him.

    ¡°Fritz, only you could make a lady cry at a Spire¡¯s Precipice. And while she¡¯s holding a chest of gold to boot. You villain,¡± Bert accused jovially.

    ¡°Not a lady,¡± Sid hiccuped as she struggled to get a hold of herself.

    Fritz, for his part, was startled, for him Sid¡¯s reaction had come out of nowhere. Though Bert¡¯s smug condescension was routine at this point, right now it seemed a little troubling. Had he really missed something obvious? Absurd, his Awareness and Perception were both eighteen each, nothing could slip through his discerning gaze.

    Or maybe not, he conceded as Sid stood and said, ¡°Need to be alone for a bit.¡± She strode away without another word, hiding herself away behind a cluster of softly glowing pillars.

    Fritz looked worriedly to Bert who just intoned, ¡°Worry not, dear Fritz. She¡¯ll be fine, trust her to sort her own soul out in her own time.¡±

    Fritz didn¡¯t roll his eyes but he wanted to, but he did just as Bert advised and let her be. He knew following her and pressing her to speak would just make her feel like a trapped gutter rat and the God¡¯s knew that they¡¯d both had enough of that during their time on the streets.

    He breathed out a longing sigh and spun on Bert to find he had set down his chest as was testing out his punches and kicks, apparently getting used to some new Trait or Evolution. His strikes and movements seemed a little slower, or maybe weightier was the right word. Heavy, like his hands were hammers in truth now. Fritz decided to interrogate him some more on the Golden Climb rewards.

    ¡°Just go pick your Trait and Evolution, and find out,¡± Bert said stubbornly. ¡°It¡¯ll ruin the surprise otherwise, oh but don¡¯t align your points right away. If you get the same Awards I did you might need some points in strength,¡± He added secretively.

    Sighing but determined to glean something about what Traits his friend had picked, he asked, ¡°Well, at least tell me what Trait and Evolution you took. Just in case one of my choices had some synergy with them.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Bert said with an exaggerated exhalation full of false fatigue.

    ¡°I chose an Evolution called Wall of Wounds for my Die Hard Ability. It says it increases my Durability when I¡¯m severely injured.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you want Durability before you¡¯re wounded?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°In a perfect world, maybe. But Epsa ain¡¯t that,¡± Bert espoused roughly. ¡°But the other choices were slowing down and slightly suppressing the effects of afflictions while unconscious, or reducing the duration and chance of being knocked out.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Fritz hummed. ¡°I think I agree with your choice then, it will help you take fewer wounds when already hurt and therefore reduce the strain on your body and Stamina. Though the affliction one might have been better considering all the venom you are always injected with.¡±

    Bert grinned and said. ¡°And that¡¯s where my new Trait comes in; Potent Blood. Evolved right out of that blighted blood Trait, isn¡¯t that just grand!¡± He extolled excitedly.

    ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡± Fritz asked, already weary of his friend''s madness.

    ¡°Makes my blood better!¡± Bert said.

    ¡°I get that, but specifics, Bert, please,¡± Fritz said pulling his hand down his face.

    ¡°It aligned more Vitality and Endurance for one. Activated and Aligned some Bloodwell. Not too sure what that is. And also increased stamina recovery. Wonderful isn¡¯t it?¡± Bert proclaimed proudly.

    Fritz could only agree, it was wonderful, especially Bloodwell the Magic Attribute for blood aligned Abilities. So he decided to act bored about the marvellous Powers his friend chose.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s it?¡± Fritz said blandly.

    Bert put on a scowl.

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®that¡¯s it?¡¯¡± Bert said taking offence.

    ¡°You should be quite used to hearing that particular phrase by now, surely you know what it means?¡± Fritz said trying and failing not to smirk.

    With that, they began to bicker.

    ---

    Sid strode off, to get some space between her and Fritz. What he had said had caught her off guard in the worst way. She had expected him to be flippant and say, ¡°Thanks for the help Sid, see you around on the outside.¡±

    Instead, he had wanted to discuss what Powers they were to choose like he wanted to keep climbing with her. Like he wanted to keep her around. Like this whole terrible Spire wasn¡¯t a one-time alliance.

    Sid thought, and fought back tears, of both joy and despair. She sat heavily, with her back to the now bickering boys. She hugged her knees to her chest and stared into the scarlet strands of wool wrapped too high around her face.

    What Fritz offered made what she had to do all that much harder. Sid couldn¡¯t keep climbing. Not yet, not when the gutters and streets were so infested with vermin and there were those, like her, who cried out for help. She needed to get in good with the Nightshark and become powerful enough that they would let her rule one of the districts for them.

    She had to do these things, she promised.

    Climbing with Fritz and Bert got in the way of all that. Now she knew Fritz wanted her to join his crew permanently, that she wasn¡¯t going to be tossed aside, she felt a bittersweet pang deep in her chest.

    A part of her, a not-so-small part, wanted to go with them, to climb every spire they saw. Abyss, even brave the ocean like Fritz madly suggested. What a fantastic way to live. The very thought filled her with something akin to hope, something burgeoning on excitement. That something was quickly squashed by the bleak realities of the Sunken Ring, of Rain City and whatever lay beyond.

    Terror, hunger and cruelty, that was the world, and those without strength couldn¡¯t change it. So she needed strength.

    Sid let herself cry. When she had pictured herself at the Precipice of a Spire she never thought she¡¯d be weeping. Especially about abandoning a life and a crew she never knew she wanted. No, she was meant to be triumphant, as she was, but it didn¡¯t feel that way.

    Bert had been right, only Fritz could make someone cry at the Precipice.

    Bastard.

 Chapter 57

    Frustrated and flustered Fritz retreated into his Sanctum, but not before reinforcing Bert¡¯s parentage as a half-breed of a gutter rat and a skulg who had drunkenly conceived him while cavorting in a barrel of limes that had gone to rot.

    ¡°That idiot, ¡®doesn¡¯t want to ruin the surprise¡¯ my arse,¡± Fritz groused in the rainy garden of his Sanctum. Shivering slightly he strode into his pavilion and warmed his imaginary hands by the eldritch fire. It roiled and twisted trying to snake out a tendril to set him ablaze again. Fritz stepped back just out of the fire¡¯s reach, he smirked at the caged malevolence venting some of his frustration with a bit of teasing.

    He had been somewhat hurt that both his crew had chosen their Traits without planning it with him. He reasoned that Bert had just been impulsive, but he didn¡¯t think Sid would fall prey to the same temptation. And the way she reacted to his question? He shook his head, he didn¡¯t do anything wrong. Fritz supposed there was some miscommunication between him and Sid, one that he¡¯d have to rectify if he could. He didn¡¯t want to leave the Spire without her as a friend, and definitely not as an enemy.

    Sighing he turned his thoughts to his Trait and Evolution. I¡¯ll just pick what¡¯s best for me. Like the others did, he thought bitterly.

    Looking over his Traits again, he discounted Eldritch Immolation immediately. It would be a death trap at best and a dead trait at worst unless he could get some sort of immunity or protection from its fire. Which he supposed wasn¡¯t even normal fire, so it would be even harder to find a potion or some Treasure to insulate him from its weird and warping heat.

    He weighed the other two Traits against each other. Bitterheart with its two Magic Attributes, something that had to be rare, and its added vulnerabilities and resistances. Or Cloak of Dusk with its strange Dusksong Attribute and the comparatively more well known Grace Attribute. It also stealth enhancement when in shadow which appealed to him.

    After thinking it over for longer than he¡¯d like to admit, he decided upon Cloak of Dusk.

    Even though it was tied to the Twilight Kiss Trait and Faerie-kind in general and would probably turn out to have some terrible curse or dark fate. He couldn¡¯t pass up its obvious rarity, he was probably one of the only people in the world to be offered this Trait, if what the Duskmoth said about not meeting mortals in centuries turned out to be true. It excited and intrigued him, what kind of man could pass up an alien and nigh-on unheard-of Power?

    A boring one, he conceded, but Fritz knew he was any but boring, no matter what Bert said.

    It was also the Trait that synergised most with Illusory Shadow and what he wanted to Evolve it with. Maybe it would be a mistake, but it was one he would make with eyes wide open and a resigned and resolute will. He chose Cloak of Dusk and felt the ineffable Power stir within him, it flittered and fluttered, spun and swirled until it was draped over his shoulders, encasing him in an incorporeal fabric woven of both light and shadow.

    The dim light of his Sanctum grew dimmer as curtains of sheer, near-invisible purple silk, unfurled themselves in the windows and entrances of the silver-grey wooden pavilion.

    He could almost feel the Cloak of Dusk, but it was far too smooth and thin to really touch. It was like a gossamer sheet and felt like being embraced by a silent, cool night¡¯s breeze. The Trait also wrought something within him, something ephemeral, like there were two, or maybe more, worlds overlapping, real and unreal at the same time. He tried to focus on it but the impression quickly receded, recoiling at his uncouth senses as he tried to brutally perceive whatever was there.

    Not all of the impressions faded though, right there in his centre there was a fuzzy, fluttering feeling of unreality. It was made of trickery, shadow and light, and in it, he sensed a cruel delight. It held a Power, it was a pool of Mana of shifting shadow and shimmering light amongst other concepts or demesnes he couldn¡¯t quite grasp.

    Must be Dusksong, Fritz reasoned as he felt it out and heard its ethereal notes at the edge of sound itself. He could feel its keen connection to Illusory Shadow, but also surprisingly, a weaker link to Gloom Strike. It looks like it¡¯ll work with my Shadow Aligned Abilities too. Perhaps it could work with light as well? I do wonder what else it can be used for, he mused curiously.

    Following Dusksong¡¯s connection to Illusory Shadow, he thought on the Ability and which Evolution called to him the most. Now, even more than before, Light Eater called out to him, intoning a subtle, starving song just beyond his hearing. He briefly looked over the other two choices and dismissed them just as quickly. While Smother Sound could be useful as could Vast Dark, in his mind they just didn¡¯t compare. Now that he had Cloak of Dusk more shadow was more power.

    He chose Light Eater and felt his Ability change, twist and its darkness deepen. The Ability felt heavier, stronger and more hungry for Mana, which he suspected was the effect of the cost increase. Through the semi-real curtains, he could see the branch that represented his Ability grow and its purple-black leaves began to drink in the meagre light of the rainy day.

    A chime rang in his mind and he turned to the glowing golden sigil inscribed upon the bark of his willow tree. It chimed again and he could distinctly hear pride and congratulations in its jovial tone.

    Fritz excitedly strode out into the rain, only sparing a moment to note how smooth his motions felt, how his feet fell lighter and legs swung in a controlled, precise manner. Placing his unburnt hand upon the golden sigil with a delightfully sinuous flourish he activated the glyph and received its boon.

    ---------

    Gold Climb Achieved

    Congratulations

    ---------

    ---

    No Power conflicts detected.

    Awards Activating.

    ---

    Seed Selections Pending

    ---

    Gold Manifesting

    ---

    ---------

    Spire Sigil Accepted

    Sunken Spire Awards Activated

    ---------

    Bronze Award

    ---------

    Night Vision

    Though much is secret in the night, it won''t be hidden from your sight.

    You can see better in shadows and low light to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Sense, Shadow.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---------

    Silver Award

    ---------

    Marbled Bones: Moonsilver

    Veins of silver, shining mesh, weaved in bones, beneath the flesh.

    Brace your bones with Moonsilver to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Metal, Purity.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None

    ---------

    Gold Award

    ---------

    Reignbreaker

    Shatter prisons, break the chains, throw down rulers, free demesnes.

    Increases your resistance to any affliction that would prevent movement or control of your own actions to a minor degree. Increases your capacity to free yourself from bindings or imprisonment to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Chaos, Mind.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive

    Refresh: None

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz nearly cursed when he saw the choices, they were all so good. Then he did curse as his mind swam, the world spinning around him as bones lit up with lines of cold pain running all over his skeleton. He gasped and his vision flickered black for a second. Then the sensations were gone, leaving him vibrating with energy that rapidly leaked out of him, dissipating in a corona of golden light. It left Fritz befuddled, wondering what on Epsa had just happened as he was slowly soaked by rain.

    Had he made a choice subconsciously somehow? No, he realised then that there was no choice to be made, that he received all the ¡®Awards¡¯. His jaw went slack or it would have if he were in the real world. But the golden sigil wasn¡¯t done, more glyphs pulsed in his vision and mind.

    ---------

    Seed Stored Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Gloom Strike

    Second Wind

    ---

    Quieted Steps

    Vital Strikes

    ---

    Lethargy

    Lacerate

    ---

    Treasure Sense

    Spell Shape

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz let his mind search the list trying to find a common thread between them, thinking about what linked these Abilities. In moments it became apparent. These were all the Abilities he hadn¡¯t chosen during his Climb. Save Gloom Strike, but he didn¡¯t take it until the sixth Well when it was offered again.

    The Seed would ¡®store¡¯ the Ability? So it was similar to if not the same as Aberrant Seeds? Well, they both shared a name and a certain look, so it couldn''t be too far off to think so. What he knew of Aberrant Seeds wasn¡¯t much as they were as rare as the Aberrant Monsters themselves. They could be worth a fortune and it was said that when you used a Well¡¯s Power you could augment the offerings in your Sanctum, giving you more choice on what Ability to take.

    Fritz shook his head, it wasn¡¯t important now. He should be choosing one of these Abilities to store away for his next climb. He smiled as he looked over the offerings again, going down the list and weighing the merits of each.

    He already had Gloom Strike so he didn¡¯t really need to store it, though maybe he could and just sell off the Seed? The thought was discarded as quickly as it came, as it felt slimy to his sense of justice and went entirely against his notion of fairness. I earn it, I¡¯ll learn it, he told himself.

    Second Wind¡¯s restoration of Stamina was appealing, considering all the energy he had been using between both fighting and his spells. But now he had Dusksong he probably wouldn¡¯t need to recover from extreme fatigue as much. One could hope, he added doubtfully.

    Quieted Steps¡¯s sound dampening was nice but with his newly gained Grace he suspected he could go without it for now. Also if he was offered Smother Sound when Evolving Illusory Shadow again he could just take that instead.

    Vital Strikes greater power against vulnerabilities would be a great passive boon, more damaging strikes were always useful. And now with Grace and Perception, he could move his body far more precisely, and he was sure Awareness would help him glean his foe''s weaknesses. He put it at the top of the list.

    Then there was Lethargy, the Stamina drain and recovery suppressor, this one really called to him on some spiritual level and now that he didn¡¯t have any Traits aligned to curse he was unlikely, very unlikely, to ever be offered the Ability again. Both rare and powerful, but he didn¡¯t know if his Dusksong would be able to be used to cast the Ability. As Faeries were famous for their curses he suspected it would but didn¡¯t know just how effective it would be. Not wanting to get caught up in indecision he put it at the top of the list as well and moved on.

    Treasure Sense was fantastic, and he knew Bert would berate him for an eternity if he didn¡¯t pick it, but Fritz had a feeling he¡¯d be seeing this ability again. And with so many Sense-aligned Powers already it was all but inevitable that it¡¯d be offered in the future.

    Last but definitely not least was Spell Shape. The extra cost for increased Control still irked him but its base boon to shaping could be useful. Now that he had Dusksong he knew could make far more use of the Ability, but again he thought he¡¯d be offered this Power again and that Control or Evolutions could do something similar if not quite as well.

    So he was torn between the Passive Vital Strikes and the Active Lethargy. He eventually judged Lethargy to be his favoured choice, it seemed to sing out to him softly and he just couldn¡¯t justify Vital strikes over it. Even if it didn¡¯t work with Dusksong a Stamina drain and suppressor was hard to pass up. It was also non-lethal, something he valued, strange enough as it was. He didn''t really want to kill after all. All I have done was necessary to survive, he reassured himself.

    He had murdered Steve but if he had the chance to do it over, if he had lethargy, then maybe it could have been different. Or maybe not, he thought as he remembered Steve threaten what was left of his family and the pulsing red rage returned for a moment. A crack of thunder sounded in the sky above and the rain poured over him as if he stood under a high gutter.

    Breathing deeply he stilled the storm brewing in his Sanctum and pushed away the anger, regret and what-may-have-beens out from his mind. There was time to ponder that later.

    Fritz chose Lethargy, and swirling golden light thrummed out of the Sigil carved upon his willow and swept over his Sanctum. The radiance dissipated in moments and the Sigil dimmed, returning to a burnished but only subtly glowing gold.

    Something fell into his lap on the outside. Fritz could only just detect his body from within his Sanctum but he knew the obvious feeling of wood even when the sensation was so dull. He spared one last touch for his tall steadily-darkening willow and returned to reality.

    Fritz opened his eyes and felt a decided heaviness to his limbs and body that wasn¡¯t just from the wooden chest sitting on his lap, laden with gold as he knew it was. It took him only a moment to figure out why. His bones were heavier, the moonsilver laced within had definitely added to his weight and his muscles had yet to compensate for it. He set the chest down, not bothering to check its contents and stood gingerly.

    There was something of a strain on his muscles and he strode a couple of steps over the blue-veined floor. Bert stopped practising his Arte Pugilist against the empty air and watched his friend with a grin as Fritz slowly adjusted to the new weight in his bones.

    ¡°This is weird,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Not as weird as the Night Vision, it''s so strange being able to see into the shadows so easily,¡± Bert countered.

    ¡°Really? What shadows?¡± Fritz asked struggling to find any dark nooks. With some effort, he was able to spot a particularly deep shadow, and once he knew what to look for he could see other small darkened areas. He found he could see clearly into them with barely any difference from the lit spaces, which is why he had to search, but he still somehow knew they were dark as they had a certain shaded look overlapping his sight like some strange, unintrusive double vision.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Fritz idly wondered if he¡¯d ever be able to enjoy the feeling of being in a dark room ever again, would he really never see another pitch-black night?

    Bert brought him out of his musings when he pointed and said, ¡°Over there look.¡±

    ¡°I see it now, or I guess I don¡¯t. It just looks bright as a drizzling day to me, but I¡¯m getting used to it,¡± Fritz explained to Bert¡¯s quizzical expression. ¡°These marbled bones will take much more getting used to. Notice anything about the last Award?¡±

    ¡°Not really, feel the same really,¡± Bert replied with a shrug.

    ¡°Well, it was a resistance Passive so it''s not like we can test it unless we want to use Sid¡¯s mana-hungry ring,¡± Fritz said stepping into a shaft of shadow behind an inactive pillar.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Nothing, it was just like you walked out of sight for a second. But I can see you now,¡± Bert said squinting at where Fritz stood.

    ¡°That, my friend, is probably my new Trait at work,¡± Fritz explained haughtily.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Sid asked as she returned to the crew acting as if she hadn¡¯t left at all. She didn¡¯t look in Fritz¡¯s direction but he could tell most of her attention was on him. ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called Cloak of Dusk and it gives me Dusksong, Grace and a stealth effect when in shadows,¡± Fritz said, dropping his smugness when noticing the redness around Sid¡¯s eyes as if she¡¯d been crying.

    ¡°Dusksong? Haven¡¯t heard of it,¡± Sid said roughly.

    ¡°It''s a Magic Attribute, seems to be aligned with my Illusory Shadow and might be compatible with my Gloom Strike,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Might be? Test it out!¡± Bert burst out.

    ¡°I¡¯m right on it. It just slipped my mind after I got my Awards, the moonsilver bones distracted me,¡± Fritz

    ¡°Leave it to Fritz to test out his bone first thing,¡± Bert grinned, suggestively.

    ¡°No better than you with your near-constant spraying,¡± Fritz retorted easily.

    Sid chuckled and some of the tension eased from her guarded stance. He was glad at that, he had thought he had seriously offended her earlier but that didn¡¯t seem to be the case.

    Fritz decided to show off a little, trying to shape his Illusory shadow into a hand making an obscene gesture. He pulled on his shifting power and found that he was able to grip that dark spot of unreality swirling around his centre. His Dusksong reacted to his will, not at all as draining as drawing on his Stamina had been. It still liked to twist and writhe in his Controls grasp but it didn¡¯t feel like the energy was fighting him per se, more like it was teasing him or playing some sort of game of tag.

    He spun the Illusory Shadow into the world, weaving a malformed orb of darkness right in front of Bert. It wasn¡¯t quite the right shape but he thought it got the point across as well as he could expect.

    ¡°Is that meant to be a rotten potato?¡± Bert asked confused.

    ¡°No it''s this,¡± Fritz said having to give the rude gesture himself.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Bert said returning the sign easily.

    ¡°Strange, I can¡¯t see through this shadow, shouldn¡¯t my Night Vision work?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°Nope, it¡¯s not real shadow,¡± Fritz said self-satisfaction ringing proudly in his voice, though the darkness did seem deeper than it had been on previous uses. Probably the Light Eater Evolution, he theorised as he spotted the shade cast beneath it.

    ¡°How mysterious,¡± Bert said, already bored.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Sid said.

    Fritz tried to activate Gloom Strike with his Glamour and found it pulled the magic within him. It wasn''t as easy as it was with Illusory Shadow and it felt like it used double the amount of mana but his fist roiled with the dark roiling energies.

    He waved it around for his crew to see but they had a hard time tracking his hand while it was so wreathed.

    "Worked then?" Bert asked simply.

    "Yes indeed, seemed to cost more though, must be inefficient. But that''s still far better than using Stamina all the time," Fritz said relieved and giddy that he didn''t feel that awful feeling of having your energy drained. But not wanting to linger too much on himself, for now, he changed the subject.

    ¡°So we all got the same Awards then?¡± Fritz asked the room in general. ¡°Night Vision, Marbled Bones, and Reignbreaker?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Sid stated. ¡°All useful, especially that Night Vision, will make the streets much less daunting at night.¡±

    ¡°Daunting?¡± Fritz said surprised. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you were daunted by anything. You¡¯re as brave as they come.¡±

    Sid shrugged. ¡°You don¡¯t survive without learning a little caution,¡± She supplied.

    ¡°Untrue, just look at Fritz,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Quite true I¡¯ve heard it be said that I¡¯ve never had a lick of sense nor even a portion of caution,¡± Fritz espoused jovially. ¡°I¡¯ve had to live by wit, guile and good looks. And just see how far that¡¯s got me,¡± he added with what he hoped was an infuriating smirk.

    He dropped the smug act when Sid let out a wearied sigh, her face going slack from fatigue.

    ¡°With all seriousness,¡± Fritz started in an earnest tone. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have done it without the both of you. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°It was a victory for the whole pack-pact,¡± Bert said grinning.

    Sid¡¯s features creased with a tired smile and she nodded in agreement.

    A warm silence fell when Fritz risked a question, ¡°Get a good Trait and Evolution Sid?¡±

    She nodded and said ¡°Got a trait called Thunderclap, it blows people back and hurts them if they get too close. Which makes sense,¡± She ended morosely.

    ¡°And the Evolution?¡± Fritz prodded, not willing to delve any deeper into that comment.

    Sid¡¯s smile was back and she answered ¡°I chose Galeshaft for Conjured Arrow which allows me to summon Air Aligned arrows, which will be much cheaper to cast, and possibly more powerful.¡±

    Bert whistled and Fritz nodded in in dignified appreciation.

    ¡°Both very nice choices, Bert chose Potent Blood, and Wall of Wounds which really amount to him being even harder to kill, oh and he has Bloodwell now,¡± Fritz boasted for his friend.

    It was Sid''s turn to whistle and she did, ¡°Gotta get some Blood Aligned Abilities, Bert. I read that Blood is close enough to Life that might work well with your bone mending if it''s aligned to Life.¡±

    Bert grinned even harder saying ¡°It is aligned to Life! Too bad I can¡¯t test it out, yet.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna be harder to test, what with all the moonsilver running through our bones now. Wonder what properties the metal has. It¡¯s also aligned to Purity, which is weird, ever heard of it?¡± Fritz mused.

    Sid and Bert merely shrugged.

    ¡°It¡¯s magical so I¡¯m sure the metal has some beneficial properties. We¡¯ll have to ask a Treasure smith when we¡¯re outside,¡± Fritz said.

    At the mention of outside Sid seemed to fidget, not so much with her body but he could definitely read something of the anxious emotions emanating from her. She seemed worried, regretful, but determined.

    Fritz thought he knew what was coming, and stepped out of the shadow he had been standing in.

    Sid wants to leave us, he thought bitterly. Another abandonment, his unfair mind echoed. Just like the others.

    ¡°Speaking of outside,¡± Sid started.

    ¡°We can talk about that after we get some sleep, I¡¯m dead tired from the battle, that and our rest was interrupted,¡± Fritz said yawning.

    His yawn was as infectious as he¡¯d hoped, with both of his crew breaking out in their own loud yawns.

    ¡°Won¡¯t there be a timer?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°No, not at the precipice,¡± Fritz replied, yawning again on purpose.

    ¡°Oh, Really? What if someone waited up here just to kill and steal from anyone coming through?¡± Bert inquired.

    ¡°Ejected if you¡¯re in a Well Room with an exit, like this one,¡± Fritz explained.

    ¡°What about others?¡± Bert said.

    Fritz shrugged, ¡°Probably gain the Spire¡¯s Spite or something equally awful, all¡¯s fair on the floors themselves, but Well Rooms are meant to be considered safe. But there are probably people who would risk it. It¡¯s neither here nor there, I don¡¯t think this Spire is likely to have any more Climbers save us. Let''s get some sleep,¡± Fritz suggested.

    Sid searched Fritz''s face, her eyes slightly widening for a moment as they locked gaze.

    She was about to say something, seemingly thought better of it and stretched her shoulders. She then nodded in agreement, picked up her pack and trudged to one of the shadowy alcoves.

    Bert was next finding a place to sleep and Fritz decided to have a good quiet rest, so he avoided anywhere near Bert and his flailing body.

    Fritz lay down, alone with his thoughts, and sighed. Pushing doing his worry and hurt he nodded off into dark fitful sleep.

    He was woken by a small shake, and movement next to him.

    Fritz stared around to find Sid lying on her side a foot away from him, she was facing him and they looked into each other''s eyes.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Fritz whispered politely. Unsure and apprehensive about this sudden, unexpected visit.

    ¡°Hello,¡± She replied softly.

    ¡°Strange meeting you here,¡± Fritz continued quietly. ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure?¡±

    ¡°Just wanted to talk,¡± Sid said. ¡°About outside.¡±

    ¡°Ah... We¡¯ll be splitting up I take it,¡± Fritz intoned, bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe I should¡¯ve taken Bitterheart, he thought absently.

    ¡°Yes. But not because I hate you guys or anything. Not because you¡¯re no longer ¡®needed¡¯. But because I have something I have to do out there. Out paths are just leading us elsewhere. For now,¡± Sid explained dejectedly.

    She didn¡¯t apologise and didn¡¯t care to explain her mission but Fritz already knew all that. She was going to do as she said and root out the filth that infested the Sunken Ring.

    ¡°I know, but we could be such a great crew, after this climb I doubt anything but the highest Floors and Tallest Spires would prove a challenge. And you know, I much appreciate your company. I mean, I like you. More than I can put into a poem,¡± He confessed in a soft rush of words.

    Sid was silent for a moment then said, ¡°I like you too, Fritz.¡± Her hushed tone was serious and sure. Fritz¡¯s body tingled and giddy delight danced in his chest. But Sid said no more and the quiet drew on, tension building between them. Sid shuffled slightly her cheeks blushing and features cast with conflicting feelings. He could sense the ¡®but¡¯ coming and headed the word off with a question.

    ¡°Do you have to do it. Do you have to go?¡± Fritz asked a hint of desperation warbling in his voice.

    ¡°I do have to do it. I have to try,¡± Sid stated, her face resolute. ¡°No one else will.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Fritz said with a bittersweet smile and a feeling like heavy stone pressing on his chest. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do it alone, can I help?¡±

    ¡°I''ll find you when I need you, don¡¯t worry about that,¡± Sid lied.

    He could see the deception as clear as day, as clear as her bright blue eyes. He kept on his sad smile and let the lie pass. This was no time for a fight, and it¡¯s not one he thought he¡¯d win.

    ¡°Take off the belt,¡± Sid whispered breathily.

    Fritz¡¯s eyes went wide and heat rose over his face in waves, ¡°What?¡± He stupidly sputtered out, as his body reacted predictably to the lurid request.

    Sid smiled mischievously and blushed a little herself and added in a low voice, ¡°I want my Treasure back, idiot.¡±

    On the receiving end of the suggestive words this time, and getting the entirely wrong idea Fritz fumbled with with the Serpent belt¡¯s clasp, embarrassment coursing through him rather than passion. He handed the belt back, only daring to meet her eyes for a moment.

    ¡°Your eyes have changed,¡± Sid said taking the belt and moving closer, locking her gaze to his.

    ¡°They have?¡± Fritz asked, looking over her ragged clothes and seeing spots of bare skin. His heart pounded, and he could feel his face heat up more.

    ¡°Yeah, the grey is gone, it''s like the green is mottled with deep purple,¡± Sid whispered.

    ¡°Hope it doesn¡¯t tarnish my good looks,¡± Fritz said back, shuffling a little closer to Sid.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± She said, this time there was no teasing or mockery. Her heart was drumming out a rapid beat that thrummed with desire, just as his own did.

    ¡°And yours are still those pristine blue stars, that I can''t help but be drawn to,¡± Fritz said hoarsely, as he struggled come up with anything more romantic to say.

    A yell from Bert echoed over the Well room. But this time, in their own world, they ignored it.

    Sid pulled forward and their lips met. Dry, soft and burning warm. She lingered for one quick intense moment as Fritz pressed into their kiss gently. Then Sid pulled away her pupils as wide as an owl¡¯s.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Fritz asked breathlessly as she began to roll over, turning her back to him.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t want to regret anything. Big fish, you know,¡± Sid stated, her heart clattering like a window pane in a storm. ¡°Now let''s get some sleep.¡±

    Fritz shook his head, dizzied by the kiss but also too dead tired, too drained and dazed to do anything else but go back to sleep. He put an arm around her slightly curled form, and she stiffened for a moment before relaxing into his embrace. Their racing hearts slowed as the fatigue drowned them like the rising tide and Fritz pulled her to his chest, lest she drift away.

    Fritz yawned one last time as Sid nestled closer to him, so warm and tough, then sleep took him.

    The nightmares fled.

 Chapter 58

    Fritz woke, and it was one of the best ways to wake. He found Sid still sleeping under his arm and he smiled softly. Until a shadow moved. Standing above him, grinning from ear to ear was Bert his eyes dancing with mischievous delight.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± Fritz hissed as quietly as he could at his idiot friend.

    ¡°No, no. Just waiting for two sticky love-skulgs to stop sleeping in,¡± Bert said in a whisper while shaking his head.

    ¡°We¡¯re not sticky,¡± Fritz argued.

    ¡°We slept in?¡± Sid asked with a yawn as she began to stretch, pressing further into Fritz¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Sure did,¡± Bert replied. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long it''s been but I was up hours ago.¡±

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t immediately wake us?¡± Fritz said sceptically.

    ¡°No, you needed the rest, and it''s actually disgusting how cute you two looked all cuddled up. I couldn¡¯t find it in my kind, soft heart to disturb you,¡± Bert espoused.

    Sid suddenly recalled her surroundings and began to blush, she slipped out from under Fritz¡¯s arm and quickly stood. She brushed down her clothes and strode past Bert, ignoring him and his dumb grin with rough dignity.

    A little sad their embrace was over Fritz sighed and watched Sid as she walked to where her gear lay.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you two ¡®worked¡¯ out your tension. And to think only a week or two ago you two would have strangled each other on sight,¡± Bert said loudly, obviously trying to embarrass the both of them.

    ¡°Who said there was no strangling?¡± Sid called out.

    Bert¡¯s eyebrows rose and Fritz rolled his eyes, saying, ¡°There was no strangling, there was no anything, we just got some sleep, together. Honest.¡±

    It was Bert¡¯s turn to roll his eyes, so he did exaggeratedly and said, ¡°Of course not, how could I possibly question your unassailable chastity.¡±

    Fritz scowled and began to rise to his feet, quickly noticing the heaviness of the metal in his bones. He unconsciously groaned as he stood, struggling against the new weight but managing it with a little more effort that was necessarily warranted from getting up. He frowned harder, he didn¡¯t much like how sluggish and slow the Marbled Bones made him feel, even if was slight it was still an annoyance and a vulnerability.

    ¡°Do you feel heavy and slow too?¡± Fritz asked his friend, glad to have some other conversation to distract Bert with.

    ¡°Not so much heavy, but solid and strong? Yes. Slow? Not at all,¡± Bert boasted, showing off with a rapid punch, punch, kick combination that cut and cracked in the air.

    Fritz sighed again, this time in some frustration, he knew some Abilities could be detrimental if you didn¡¯t have quite the right Attributes but he thought it was a little annoying to have an Award give it to him without a choice. Even if the positives probably outweighed the negatives. He wondered if he could turn the Award off, but dismissed the notion instantly, shaking his head.

    Reinforced bones are far too good to pass up, even at the expense of a little muscle strain. Though it¡¯s not like he didn¡¯t have some attributes to align, he had been avoiding strength so far, afraid that his Perception and Awareness needed to be higher to detect all the threats they had faced. He had been right to do so, especially considering the very last monster, the almost invisible Aberrant Hound whose pale corpse now lay by the Spire¡¯s exit.

    Without his Powerful Senses he was sure to have died, in fact, he seriously doubted anyone but him could have killed the foul beast. Even if they hadn¡¯t been injured Bert and Sid wouldn¡¯t have been able to see its vicious attacks coming, nor be able to wound it if it kept up its odd ghostly Ability to ignore weapons.

    Fritz shuddered, glad that the terrible burden of keeping his friends alive was off his shoulders, for now at least. Not that it wasn¡¯t gratifying that they trusted him. It was just a lot of stress, and it had been grinding him down slowly and surely. True as the rain.

    Enough wavering, time to align some Strength.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to put some points into Strength,¡± Fritz informed the room.

    ¡°Good idea,¡± Sid replied as she packed away her things. ¡°You¡¯ll need it if you want to actually hurt monsters at higher levels, or in taller Spires.¡±

    ¡°About time,¡± Bert groused. ¡°I don¡¯t want to have to carry everything anymore.¡±

    ¡°No, Bert, you will still be my mule, you Brute,¡± Fritz replied offhandedly, before sitting and plunging into his Sanctum.

    Fritz thudded onto muddy ground, as a light drizzle fell from his overcast sky. He took a minute to observe his imaginary world, to really take in all the changes that had been wrought here over the climb. He wondered if Bert¡¯s Arena or whatever form Sid¡¯s Sanctum took had changed as much as his. He supposed not, as he knew that they hadn¡¯t been so foolish as to bring something in from the outside like he did.

    Glancing to the eerie, blue-green flame he noticed that it was burning almost calmly, like it was no longer struggling to get free of its brass prison. Staring at the weird fire he got the distinct impression it was watching him and biding its time, waiting for him to make a mistake so that it may engulf his Sanctum in a cruel conflagration.

    Fritz took a moment to think about the Trait that was obviously offered because of the Eldritch Flame. It had said that it also wreathed his Sanctum in fire, did that mean there were other Abilities or Traits that could attack or defend a Sanctum? He supposed that¡¯s how objects that could read and project your Spire Sheet worked, like the Scanning Orb in the Guides Guild. The local Ceph Outpost might have one as well, but it wasn¡¯t likely.

    Dismissing the distraction, Fritz looked over his willow, now at least three times his height, its bark starting to take on a decidedly grey hue like the now silvery pavilion under its long swaying branches. The leaves, which used to have a dark blue colouration, had been tinted purple at their edges and subtly shifted the light in odd ways. There were also the shadows, deeper and darker than they had any right to be, slithering over the ground like black eels.

    Fritz suspected that usually a sight like that would make him shudder, make him quake with fear, but he felt nothing but acceptance, protection and a sort of kinship from the roiling shade.

    His pavilion stood among the darkness softly glowing with a silvery light, its gossamer purple curtains swaying in the slight breeze. It and his willow had seen the most change and somewhere deep inside a cold fury still boiled within Fritz that the pristine memory of his mother¡¯s garden had been so thoroughly twisted.

    Was it changed by the Faerie, the Spire or myself? He asked knowing there was no answer that would satisfy him, knowing that what''s done is done. That he might as well stop the falling of the rain.

    Without any more recrimination, and accepting his new Sanctum wholeheartedly, he strode into the dancing shadows and placed a scarred hand to the willow''s bark, accessing the last of the Power swirling in the sky. He knew he could access it from anywhere in the mental construct but this always seemed like the right place to do it. Right here, right by his willow, in and under the sanctuary of its shade.

    He went over his options one last time, shook his head, and aligned his three free points to Strength. Immediately he felt new power swell in his muscles, like they were empty waterskins being filled. Then the rush faded. And he felt lighter, stronger, than ever before.

    Fritz left his Sanctum and was struck by a more powerful echo of the effects in the real world. Standing quickly, he strode to and fro, getting a feel for his new heavy gait. Then Fritz tested his new strength swinging Quicksilver in a quick, cutting flourish. The blade was still heavier than he was comfortable with but he was definitely stronger, though by how much it was hard to tell. At least most of my bones'' greater weight is less noticeable, he observed.

    ¡°Bert, I don¡¯t feel that much stronger, is that what you felt?¡± Fritz asked unsure he¡¯d had the right choice.

    ¡°What? No. Of course not. I put in more than three at the first Well and I¡¯ve only put in more as we¡¯ve climbed,¡± Bert boasted before continuing. ¡°And don¡¯t forget your terminal case of spindle-itus. Once you pack on some muscle the Strength should do more for you. What did you say again? ¡®It multiplies the base?¡¯¡± Bert reminded Fritz.

    Annoyed that he had overlooked something so basic and had to be lectured by Bert of all people, Fritz tried out another couple of thrusts and lunges with his blade until he accidentally cut himself through the ragged hilt and set the sharp sword down.

    ¡°I have to get this thing a proper hilt,¡± Fritz said putting his small cut to his mouth.

    ¡°Yeah and maybe buy some new trousers, those are falling to pieces,¡± Bert said motioning at his stained and slashed clothing. ¡°In fact, you should get Sid some too, you¡¯re both around the same size.¡±

    Fritz looked over himself then Sid then shrugged, ¡°I see no issues with that, Sid you still gonna be a man on the outside?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sid stated. ¡°Safer that way, would you keep quiet about it?¡±

    ¡°Of course, we¡¯ll keep your womanly disposition secret,¡± Fritz agreed easily.

    Sid rolled her eyes but smiled all the same, stress leaking out of her now relaxing shoulders.

    ¡°Speaking of secrets, what are we going to tell the welcoming party,¡± Fritz said motioning at the window-like walls to a figure in a brown long coat standing on the cliff past the eerie lake surrounding the Spire.

    Fritz couldn¡¯t tell who exactly the man was, as they and the cliffs were quite far away, but had spotted them while talking and knew they¡¯d be trouble.

    ¡°Forget the thugs, how are we gonna swim back with these heavy bones?¡± Bert asked with an unusually pertinent question.

    Fritz frowned and looked out through the invisible wall, searching the roiling waters. He spotted a rowboat, quite a large one, big enough to fit at least ten people, swaying on the waves right by the Spires peak. It was obviously anchored to the stony bottom, a rope reaching from under a wooden bench into the dark depths.

    ¡°Boat,¡± Fritz said pointing out the wooden vessel. ¡°Climb up the anchor, into the boat and row to the cliff. Wonder why they didn''t use it for the swim to the Spire.¡±

    ¡°Probably some kind of initiation or test,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Of course, what kind of Climb would it be without some added cruelty,¡± Fritz said bitterly.

    Bert shrugged.

    Fritz¡¯s sighed pushing the just anger down, and continued ¡°Well, we have a way out at least. Which brings me back to what to tell the oilcoats. I don¡¯t exactly want to tell them how far we Climbed, and I¡¯m sure they¡¯re going to take some, if not all of our Treasures.¡±

    ¡°I need to prove my strength, I need to catch the eye of the Nightshark. Need to climb the ranks. And if that means giving up my Treasures, and telling them of our Golden Climb then I¡¯m gonna do it,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Not going to try to join the storm guard?¡± Fritz asked.

    Sid spat, ¡°No, they either look the other way or are as bad as the gangs themselves,¡± she said a cold hatred in her voice. ¡°The rot is deep there, and the drizzlers care when you pick off their own. Unlike the usual thugs and filth.¡±

    ¡°Do we all have to go back together?¡± Bert asked. ¡°We could split up, tell different stories.¡±

    ¡°Might be for the best,¡± Fritz said, sighing. ¡°Makes you look heroic as well, one person completing a Golden Climb, it''s nigh unheard of. Makes it very, very likely the Nightshark would sit up and take notice. If we had Golden Climbed the Mer Spire the Captain of the Scale guard would¡¯ve taken notice, as would the Guilds and the Ceph teams. But secret as this Spire is, we won¡¯t be getting any of that kind of notoriety. Which in my case is quite needed what with all these Sense Abilities,¡± Fritz mused, half to his crew and half to himself.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Bert nodded along at his reasoning, and Sid seemed to agree as well if her concerned frown was anything to go by.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go first then, what will you two do?¡± Sid asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to find a way to hide as much of our secrets and loot from the bastards as possible,¡± Fritz said smugly.

    ¡°You probably will have to take your chest and Seed to them, but you could leave your other Treasures with us and we store them somewhere for you to pick up at your leisure,¡± Fritz offered magnanimously.

    Sid thought on the plan for a moment and nodded, removing her gaudy goblin-chief¡¯s ring and handing it to Fritz.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep the belt for now, could use a little more to bind my ti- chest. As for the rest give it to Tallie, say they''re for Sylvia, I trust her to keep them safe,¡± Sid said. ¡°Oh, and take the Aberrant Seed.¡± She added handing off a gnarled palm-sized black, silver-veined orb.

    ¡°Was this from the Hound?¡± Fritz asked, setting the Treasures into his pack and hefting the Seed.

    ¡°Yep,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Sylvia?¡± Fritz asked absentmindedly ¡°A friend?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Sid replied. ¡°It¡¯s just so Tallie knows that I trust you.¡±

    Fritz shrugged and hid his smile at her warming words.

    ¡°Should we get it refined or keep it as is? Or do we just sell it off?¡± He inquired as Bert¡¯s expression grew more and more frustrated.

    ¡°Okay, fine! What do Seeds do?¡± Bert blurted out.

    Fritz smiled, ¡°You finally admitted it you dullard. You have no idea what Seeds do at all do you?¡±

    ¡°I have some ideas, now that I made a Golden Seed. Aberrant, Refined, Golden. I just don¡¯t know how they¡¯re all different,¡± Bert admitted.

    ¡°Well it''s very easy to explain really,¡± Fritz said condescendingly. ¡°Aberrant Seeds come from Aberrant monsters. They will have the Abilities or Traits of said monsters stored in their Seed. You can use them when you have the Ability or Trait choice from a Well still stored in your Sanctum. It¡¯s like an extra choice when you are offered Powers,¡± He lectured.

    ¡°However, Aberrant seeds are wild and will give you something random stored within, making it inadvisable to rely on unrefined Seeds. Whereas a refined Seed is usually pared down to one Power so its no longer a gamble,¡± Fritz ended.

    ¡°More Powers?¡± Bert said giddily.

    ¡°No. More choices,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°Oh, damn! Why is that any good?¡± Bert groused, scowling at the Aberrant Seed still in Fritz¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Because you may be offered Abilities that just don¡¯t work well or are detrimental to your ¡®kit¡¯ or are just bad. You could instead find the right Ability in the right Seed and use that instead, making sure your kit is synergistic,¡± Fritz explained.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t had that problem yet,¡± Bert grumbled.

    ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause this Spire is crazy vicious and fight hungry,¡± Sid supplied.

    ¡°Other Spires can be less combat-focused and may offer Abilities and Traits that lend themselves to other things, like craftsmanship or scholarly pursuits. This Spire, quite frankly, is a monster, and definitely evil,¡± Fritz declared.

    ¡°Huh. What about these Golden Seeds then?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Haven''t heard of them, probably one of the closely guarded secrets of the Guides Guild, Rulers and other hoarders of knowledge,¡± Fritz said offhandedly. ¡°Golden climbs are fairly rare after all, and you have to be quite powerful and handsome to pull it off, if I do say so myself, which I do,¡± Fritz added with a self-satisfied smile.

    ¡°I think they do the same thing as a refined Seed, storing the Ability you chose so you have the option to pick it up again,¡± Sid said ignoring all of Fritz¡¯s boasting bravado.

    ¡°Which is very useful, I stored that curse, Lethargy. What about you two?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°I took Gust,¡± Sid said.

    ¡°Why? Don¡¯t you have Thunderclap now, doesn¡¯t it do the same sort of thing?¡± Fritz said quizzically.

    ¡°It does, but Thunderclap has a Refresh of a minute and costs more. And it¡¯s likely loud, seeing as it''s called Thunderclap,¡± Sid explained. ¡°Don¡¯t want to be too loud doing what I¡¯m going to be doing and Gust can fill in if it hasn¡¯t refreshed yet. And you never know, it might eventually be merged with my Wind Strike if I get the choice.¡±

    ¡°Merge?¡± Bert asked interested.

    ¡°Sometimes. Rarely, you can combine, ¡®merge¡¯ or ¡®fuse¡¯ Abilities together creating a new more powerful or just more weird Ability in the process. It¡¯s usually when you Ascend an Ability past its full three evolutions,¡± Fritz said offhandedly. ¡°Let''s not get too into it, we¡¯re far away from that anyway.¡±

    ¡°What there¡¯s more to the Spire system? Why is it so bloody complex?¡± Bert said exasperated.

    ¡°The Architect was obviously a madman, that¡¯s why,¡± Fritz jovially blasphemed.

    ¡°Arravankis wanted everyone to have choices, to forge and follow their own paths, through endless trails and infinite roads,¡± Sid said, repeating the doctrine. ¡°But who really knows?¡±

    ¡°I sure don¡¯t,¡± Bert groused. ¡°But I guess I got excellent recovery from it so who am I to complain, I¡¯m no Fritz after all.¡±

    ¡°I resent that accusation,¡± Fritz complained then added ¡°And don¡¯t forget the extra years of life Vitality brings.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°You¡¯ll live longer, even if you never improve your Strain,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Really?¡± Bert said still surprised.

    ¡°Really,¡± Fritz intoned solemnly

    ¡°Huh,¡± Bert stated not knowing what to do with the new knowledge.

    They lapsed into a contemplative silence.

    Seemingly sick of standing still Sid said, ¡°I¡¯m taking the Hound¡¯s head as proof, that okay?¡±

    Fritz nodded and Bert said, ¡°But I was going to hang it over the mantle piece.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t even have a house let alone a fireplace,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°I will, once I buy one with all this gooold,¡± Bert announced, elongating the word gold annoyingly.

    Ignoring the bickering Sid strode over to the Hound''s corpse and began to hack off its head with her fin sword. Quickly Fritz was by her side and he held out Quicksilver to her which she took gratefully as her blade couldn¡¯t even mar the silver bones. Thankfully his sword¡¯s edge held up fine and was able to eventually chew through the beast¡¯s glittering spine.

    Removing the huge head with a twist she wrapped it in her oilcloth and stuffed the overlarge package into her pack. She then busied herself in making a sort of sling with which to bind her Golden Climb chest to her body, as it wouldn¡¯t fit in her pack. Fritz did not envy Sid¡¯s task of climbing the rope with all that weight, though she had more Strength than him so maybe it wouldn¡¯t be too bad.

    Fritz set about helping her where he could, which wasn¡¯t much but she seemed to appreciate it from the furtive smiles and glances she gave him. In too little time she was all wrapped up in packs and pouches, ready to leave.

    Making sure she forgot nothing, Sid checked her pockets, patting them down quickly. There was a light thud. Her brows lifted in small surprised and she withdrew the small journal-like Technique book ¡®The Observations¡¯. Sid attempted to hand it back to Fritz, though he could see her reluctance to part with the book.

    Fritz frowned a little and took the edge proffered to him, ¡°Were you able to memorise it all?¡±

    ¡°The first couple of pages,¡± Sid said shrugging.

    ¡°We could wait up here while you memorised the rest, we don¡¯t have to split up right now,¡± Fritz said hopefully.

    ¡°Every moment I wait, every second I stall, could be some young girl¡¯s life,¡± Sid said darkly. ¡°I don¡¯t want that on my conscience.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want our help?¡± Fritz asked again, nearly pleading.

    ¡°I have to set everything up, get the bare bones of my plan in place,¡± Sid explained. ¡°And I have to do it alone, can¡¯t have the Nightshark thinking we¡¯re some kind of powerhouse new gang on the rise. That¡¯s a way to get killed quickly and quietly.¡±

    Fritz was about to interrupt her reasoning but she cut him of and continued, ¡°Even if we¡¯re level ten now, we¡¯re not the only climbers in the gangs. We don¡¯t even really know how strong the Nightshark is, only that they¡¯re a higher level than anyone save some of the nobility and the King and his Court Climbers. We¡¯re not strong enough. Yet. So we have to lay low or bend the knee to the powers that be. For now,¡± Sid finished seriously.

    Fritz wanted to argue but everything she said was correct. Forget about the Nightshark, how would they even fair against some one like Jagged Nic? So he sighed nodded and took the Technique book back.

    ¡°I would say its foolish to go alone, but I think you¡¯re right. It¡¯s the least suspicious way to do things, but I doesn''t sit right in my heart,¡± Fritz said.

    Sid smiled a little at his words and added, ¡°I don¡¯t feel to great about it either, but I¡¯ll call you when I need you,¡± Sid said stoically.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be there,¡± Fritz intoned.

    ¡°Anything for a pack-sister,¡± Bert added.

    A silence fell, it was not stifling, cold or awkward, instead it resounded with the determination contained within their words and hearts.

    The crew walked to the Stairway together and there were no goodbye speeches or ceremonies. Sid awkwardly hugged Bert with a soft ¡®bye Bert¡¯ and then was standing in front of Fritz looking him in the eyes anxiously.

    ¡°I¡¯m going now,¡± Sid stated.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you on the outside,¡± Fritz replied as his stomach roiled with dread.

    Sid sighed on seeing his expression, she took a step closer, seized him by his ragged collar and pulled him into a rough kiss. He returned it just as roughly. While Bert watched on and whistled.

    When their kiss was broken Sid stepped back and slapped Fritz on the chest, saying ¡°Don¡¯t look so sad, you making me feel like I¡¯m leaving a kitten outside in a storm. We¡¯ll see each other again, I promise.¡±

    Fritz grinned, a little from the unexpected goodbye kiss, but mostly from the promise of a reunion in Rain City.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to it,¡± Fritz stated. ¡°I wish you the fondest farewell and the best of luck, not that you need it, until we meet again Lady Sid,¡± he pompously performed with a flourishing bow. Then in a serious tone, he said, ¡°See you later Sid, I¡¯ll miss you.¡±

    Fritz thought he saw Sid¡¯s eyes tear up, but she turned, hiding her features in her scarf and strode down the stairs.

    Fritz watched her back as his heart ached, but he kept the smile on his face lest she look back, she did but only for a moment and only to give him one last, glorious, teary smile of her own. Before her expression hardened into one of furious, determined will.

    Sid strode down the stairs, away until she could no longer be seen.

    Fritz didn¡¯t know if they¡¯d ever meet again and the thought made him feel tiny and wretched. Still, he decided to let himself feel these feelings of loss. He didn¡¯t weep openly, but he did feel a trickle down one cheek.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get killed.¡±

 Arc 2 - Chapter 1

    Fritz stood there at the precipice, just by the Stairway down to the Sunken Spire¡¯s exit, and he sulked in his most stoic, dignified manner.

    Sid had left them behind, and although Fritz knew that this was her way forward, her Path, it still filled him with furious melancholy. Why now when things were good between us? Why does this always happen to me? Am I Cursed? He complained inwardly, allowing himself some time to be petulantly self-pitying.

    He could still see her in his mind''s eye, her bright blue eyes her, short blonde hair, tall with whipcord muscle that was slowly being covered over and accentuated with soft curves.

    Bert slapped him on the back, breaking Fritz out of his bitter recriminations of himself, Sid and the world at large.

    ¡°Plenty of fish in the barrel!¡± Bert said jovially, whipping his head around and letting his golden mane fall where it may. He met Fritz''s eyes with his own wild amber gaze, there was a note of sympathy in them but they also impressed on him the need to get his thoughts in order and get back to important things, like hiding their well earned loot so it couldn¡¯t be stolen.

    Fritz stood there for a moment longer, still gripping the leather cover of ¡®The Observations,¡¯ holding precious the small journal-like Technique book to his chest like a fond memory. Then he turned his mind to the job at hand, the plans that needed to be made and the schemes left to weave. He wiped away a tear, then ran his hand through his short dark hair and spun on his heel facing the Well Room again.

    ¡°I guess we get the rest,¡± Fritz observed, looking over the Treasures, the headless Hound corpse and their chests of gold. ¡°I¡¯m not sure we¡¯ll be able to hide it all, not with what I¡¯ve got planned.¡±

    ¡°So where we gonna hide the Treasures?¡± Bert eventually asked, stretching his ever expanding and now quite prodigious musculature absentmindedly.

    ¡°Well, if I were them I¡¯d dredge around the Spire after groups had resurfaced, just in case they dump their Treasures. So we can¡¯t just leave it at the bottom of the lake,¡± Fritz theorised.

    Bert nodded along agreeing with the assessment.

    ¡°So we have to hide it where they won''t think to look,¡± Fritz espoused.

    ¡°Which is?¡± Bert asked, a keen interest writ plain across his face.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get to that later, first we should separate what we¡¯re taking with us and what we¡¯re hiding. Oh, and we¡¯ll have to wrap it up, make it as waterproof as possible. We should also put the Technique books in the chests,¡± Fritz explained as he opened his own Golden Climb chest, thankful that it hadn¡¯t disappeared like the other Treasure chests had.

    ¡°Why do I get the feeling that this scheme is both dumb and dangerous?¡± Bert said grinning.

    Fritz returned the grin, a fae light gleaming in his green and now mottled-purple eyes, and said, ¡°Because, my friend, you know me too well.¡±

    ---

    Sid stood before the rippling plane of water set within the Door¡¯s frame that was held there by the Spire¡¯s magics. Through it she could see an anchor and the rope leading up to the rowboat. The way up was just a few yards beyond the Door. She prepared for the freezing water and the thankfully short swim or more likely walk with her new moonsilver laced bones and she checked her gear one last time.

    Sid had her cloak, her fin blade and a slowly dimming crystal baton. Her bow was unstrung and her quiver hung off her hip. She quickly tightened the bindings and checked the taut white-scaled belt around her chest was still firmly, painfully, in place. With a glance made sure that all the sewn holes in her ragged shirt were closed. Don¡¯t want to give my self away by accidentally showing off the treasure holding in my ti- chest, she thought.

    When all was checked and made ready, Sid took in a large breath and strode into the wall of water. Immediately the cold set in as her clothes were soaked through in a moment. It was painful and her muscles seized for a second before she pushed through the lake''s icy grasp. Even if it was freezing it was nowhere near as bad as her time in the cave, where that terrible blizzard raged over them and almost froze them solid.

    Setting her legs to move she strode through the water, she noted it was not nearly as difficult to push through the lake¡¯s depths as before. But I didn''t have Strength then, she reminded herself.

    She easily reached the anchor and the thick connecting rope, then spotted a glinting in the distance.

    One of those bloody fish Fritz was boasting about wrestling into the Sunken Spire, Sid recollected while gripping the rope in front of her. She seized it with both hands and moved the small chest tied to her so she could more comfortably climb. She lifted her heavily burdened body, wrapped her legs around the coarse rope and pulled herself up.

    There was some wobbling down the thick line and Sid hoped that the boat above was stable enough that it wouldn¡¯t be tipped over and capsized by the weight of the gold in the chest she had bound to her.

    With her enhanced strength it was an easy climb, what wasn¡¯t easy was the lack of air and the dulling cold. One last test, to weed out the lucky or the unleveled she supposed. Breaking the lake''s surface and taking in a salty breath, Sid gasped the wooden edge and threw herself over into the surprisingly roomy and stable boat.

    Panting and puffing she lay there, she shivered and cursed before seeing an open crate containing a small number of clay flasks. They stank like the hold-your-breath potion had been forced drink before they had jumped into the lake. With a cold quaking hand she grasped one of them, unsealed it and forced down its putrid contents without gagging.

    Sid pulled in a deep breath, just like they were told to before. It was slow to work but after about a thirty seconds of violent shivers, she felt her lungs become hot and the heat spread through her body quieting her trembling. She stared up at the enormous dome roof as she waited for the tremors to stop completely and noted the smooth stone looked familiar for some reason, but she couldn¡¯t put her finger on it.

    Once she had control of her body again she unslung her pack and chest, placing them safely in the centre of the rowboat. Sid stood and balanced, then sat down upon one of the boat''s benches. She pulled in the anchor with some effort, grunting and grumbling from heaving the heavy object into the vessel, then she seized the worn oars and began to row.

    Sid was out of practise, but it didn¡¯t show with her newly enhanced Attributes. She silently wished the vessel had a sail so she could use her wind Abilities to propel it instead of her tiring arms, but continued on stoically. It had been some time since she had rowed. It was common for the orphans and other struggling children in the gutters to take up work as rower, just one of the few odd jobs anyone with a working body could do. Taking people over the often flooded streets and being paid in copper bits far below what a real rower could make.

    Which was what people expected, you paid for speed not just getting you there. You didn¡¯t take the child-manned boats because you wanted to get somewhere fast, no, you took it because you were cheap or desperate.

    Sid growled remembering the cruel men who owned the boats, took half of what you were paid and sent you away with bruises or broken bones when you complained. Like all thugs in the Sunken Ring, those men worked for the gangs and therefore worked for the Nightshark. Someone she needed to meet, needed to impress to get her way, to be allowed to take a territory she could call her own. Somewhere the young and starving could come for sanctuary and protection from the predators and vermin who roamed the streets and hunted the gutters.

    Sid grunted, pulling and pushing on the oars. She rowed towards the cliff settling into a steady rhythm and within minutes, far more rapidly than she had expected, she was there, right in front of the small stony outcropping.

    A man with dark, lank greasy hair wearing a brown oilcoat stood before her, searching her face and bearing. Sid worried that he might notice her, frankly annoying, larger chest and hips even if she had covered and bound them as tight as she could. He glanced away, his gaze darting to her pile of loot, his eyes going wide at the sight of the polished wooden chest. Then he looked back at her with some amount of incredulity and then a grim respect.

    He nodded once and in a gruff voice said, ¡°Get that stuff up here, I¡¯m gonna get Nic. He¡¯ll want to see this. Abyss, maybe his boss would also like to see this.¡±

    Sid nodded and put on her roughest voice and her angriest scowl and replied, ¡°Good, I want to see them too.¡±

    Jagged Nic didn¡¯t take long to appear, skin scarred, his hair shaved close and clad in his long brown oilcoat. He strode to the cliff¡¯s edge with long steps, searched the contents of the boat with a look then stared down at Sid for a long moment. Judging her with grey eyes, dark as lead.

    Sid felt her body tense, her legs wanted to move, but she clenched her fists and jaw and returned the stare with a steady glare of her own.

    Surprisingly, Nic smiled, his notched features making the expression look painful and dangerous then he grumbled out excitedly, ¡°We¡¯ll skip the shakedown, What¡¯s yer name?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Sid,¡± She stated, putting on the roughest voice she could manage as she was a little out of practise.

    ¡°Well, ¡®Sid¡¯, the Nightshark will want to see you, right quick they would. Golden climb and all, solo as well. I¡¯ve never seen the like,¡± Nic praised.

    ¡°Kev help Sid with his stuff, we¡¯ve got a bit of a walk. And none of it is to go missing, mind you,¡± Nic ordered.

    Kev stared stupidly for a second before Nic yelled,¡°Get to it, you laggard!¡±

    Sid smiled inwardly but didn¡¯t let it show on her face as she hauled herself, and her golden climb chest up and onto the cliff with a small grunt of effort.

    ¡°This way,¡± Nic said, striding away leading her onwards.

    I¡¯m over the first wall, she thought.

    It was a nerve wracking test of her composure but she knew the ordeal wasn¡¯t over, not by even a little bit. There was a far more dangerous person to talk to, to convince that she was worth trusting. Fear fluttered in her heart and she squashed it.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Sid strode onward, determined to face her fate and the Nightshark.

    ---

    Fritz had just finished explaining his plan, in exacting detail, to his blood brother.

    ¡°That¡¯s idiotic,¡± Bert said.

    Fritz nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Only a moron could ever think such a thing would work,¡± Bert added.

    Fritz didn¡¯t challenge his words, only giving his friend a bland smirk and sly wink.

    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± Bert madly grinned.

    Then, they got to work.

    -

    Fritz hefted his soaked body into the boat, out from the icy water, shivering and cursing the whole time. The constant sounds of sloshing and the eerie gleam of the waves barely distracted him. He rapidly dropped Quicksilver and reached for the potion he had seen Sid drink only a day or two ago. He forced down the vile sludge-like liquid and grabbed another to throw to Bert when he appeared.

    The fire built in his chest and coursed through his limbs, filling them with warmth. Fritz made sure not to sigh in relief lest the potion''s effects fade. Fritz pretended to row the boat badly, turning it so no one standing on the cliff could see Bert¡¯s head bubble up from the depths.

    Fritz made a show of yelling and struggling with the anchor while surreptitiously throwing the potion to his friend still in the water. He played off the motion as warding his eyes from the bright blue-green light pouring out from the Spire¡¯s peak above them.

    Bert caught the clay flask and he drank it down quickly, grimacing then pulling in a huge breath and diving below the roiling waves once again.

    First stage done, now I just have to stall a little, Fritz thought.

    He kept up his performance of pulling in the anchor and failing due to his exhausted arms. It wasn¡¯t all an act, the rope had been surprisingly hard to climb with his new weight, even with his enhanced Strength.

    The three points helped but it''s honestly not that much of a difference, yet. I¡¯ll have to take Bert¡¯s advice and put some flesh on these moonsilvered bones, he mused as he waited for his friend¡¯s reappearance.

    The plan would place most of the risk on Bert, Fritz of course had volunteered but Bert would have

    none of it. What with his Vitality, Endurance, Strength and Potent Blood, Fritz¡¯s friend was far more cut out for the role than he was, so he begrudgingly allowed him to do it instead.

    It wasn¡¯t as if Fritz was doing nothing though, making sure the watcher on the cliffs was paying attention to him would prevent their scheme, and therefore their hidden loot, from being discovered.

    ¡°Spire¡¯s Spite, why are you so heavy!?¡± Fritz wailed. ¡°Bert hold on! I¡¯m pulling you up! Just hold on!¡± He yelled, pouring desperation into his voice.

    Fritz saw activity on the cliff, the man in the oilcoat approached the water and peered out over the lake at Fritz as he displayed his false flailing frustrations. In a moment of recognition, Fritz nearly dropped his performance, pulled free his bone dagger and threw it over the waves and at the greasy, lank-haired man.

    Kev, the bastard that tied my laces, Fritz seethed as he restrained himself. There¡¯s no way I could throw that far anyway, keep calm and gut the prick later, he reasoned letting out a sigh and some of the anger with it while reaffirming his plan to bide his time.

    After a couple more minutes of wasting time, Fritz began to get worried for Bert, he should have surfaced or sent a message already. Kev swept his arm overhead, signalling Fritz, who replied back waving his arms as if in distress. He could see the man get visibly annoyed then take off his boots and coat. Kev dived into the lake, then sprang up out of the roiling water, swimming towards the boat.

    He had been quick too, able to easily swim to the vessel within a couple of minutes.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s bad,¡± Fritz mumbled and pretended to look pleased as the thug pulled himself into the boat.

    ¡°Bert¡¯s still down there, can you check for him?¡± Fritz quickly blurted out before Kev could speak. The thug shook his soaked, dark hair out of his face then looked at him confused, as if surprised to see Fritz still alive.

    ¡°Gods above, I hope I¡¯m not being haunted. Especially by bloody Fritz. That would be a curse and a half, true as the rain,¡± Kev¡¯s croaky voice groused.

    ¡°Please, Bert¡¯s still down there, he¡¯s carrying most of the Treasure,¡± Fritz begged.

    At the mention of Treasure Kev strode over to the anchor¡¯s rope, grasping it and pulling it up as easily as if it weren¡¯t weighted at the end at all.

    Damn. He¡¯s strong, maybe stronger than Bert, Fritz realised as he contemplated stabbing Kev in the back right then and there. Hold on, nothing suspicious, don¡¯t want them to suspect anything¡­ fishy. And you don¡¯t want them to know your true level, a dead Kev might just alert them that something''s not quite right with our story.

    Kev let out a grunt as the rope seemed to resist or get heavier. Fritz almost let out a huff of relief but held it back as the man heaved on the rope and pulled out a sputtering, shivering Bert hanging onto the rope as if for dear life. Fritz made to help pull him in, but he needn¡¯t have as Kev dumped Bert¡¯s overburdened body into the centre of the boat. Quickly moving over to his friend he took the empty clay flask out from Bert¡¯s vest pocket and pretended to have him drink it.

    Bert''s tremors almost immediately stopped, and Fritz risked a whisper, ¡°Too quick.¡±

    ¡°Brrr,¡± Bert said and started trembling again. The act was terrible by Fritz¡¯s standards but it seemed not to matter as Kev wasn¡¯t paying too much attention to the two of them and was instead looking at all the gear they brought into the boat.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the¡­ tusks?¡± Kev asked in a croak while looking over the two huge, curved, green, glass bull horns.

    ¡°They¡¯re horns,¡± Fritz explained trying his best to look meek and fearful. ¡°Broke them off a statue on the second floor.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Kev ground out, bewildered.

    ¡°¡¯Cause they look fearsome,¡± Bert espoused as he slid onto a bench and sat ringing the water from his drowned locks of golden hair.

    ¡°You almost drowned because of them!¡± Fritz berated. ¡°I told you we should¡¯ve left them behind.¡±

    ¡°And I told you that we needed to bring something good out with us or we¡¯d be beaten or tossed back in,¡± Bert replied. ¡°Not like we found anything else that was valuable.¡±

    Kev looked between the two as they bickered then raised a hand shouting, ¡°Enough! Shut up the both of yous.¡±

    ¡°We can chat about ''valuables'' when we get to the cliff, oh, and Nic will want to see yah,¡± Kev explained wearily.

    ¡°Jagged Nic?¡± Fritz asked injecting a small quaver into his words ¡°What would he want with us?¡±

    ¡°He chats to all the new Levelers and Pathers,¡± Kev said spitting over the boat''s edge. ¡°Separates the riff from the raff,¡± He added with a chuckle at his own meaningless witticism.

    ¡°Which one is the good one?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°The one that don¡¯t ask questions,¡± Kev warned.

    Heeding the man''s gruff words Bert and Fritz settled into silence until the thug looked at them like they were stupid and shouted, ¡°What are you waiting for? Get to rowin¡¯!¡±

    They glanced at each other and got to it, each taking an oar and straining at the task. Honestly, the rowing was easy but they had to make it look harder than it was to make their deception more believable.

    Bert had wanted to present themselves as Pathers for all the perks they seemed to get. Such as a gang and hide out of their own. But eventually, with much persuasive reasoning from Fritz, they had settled on acting weak enough not to warrant too much watching. Which meant pretending to be Levelers.

    Fritz knew it¡¯d be a slog and they would be looked down upon but he was used to that already and the less people knew about their Abilities the better. With an exaggerated grunt, Fritz pulled the oar again and signalled Bert about the success of their other plan. His friend signalled back in the affirmative and he had to cough to stop himself from smiling and laughing.

    The boat rocked as they traversed the lake¡¯s waves, and Kev started to root through the bags and pouches, looking for any Treasures or gold they may have brought with them. He was probably trying to pocket something for himself before anyone else got the chance to do so.

    It took all of Fritz¡¯s Control not to smirk as the man found only monster meat, wrecked scale armour, some odds and ends like the shards of quartz snail-shell that Bert inexplicably had in his pack, the blight hound fangs from the very first floor and one of their now dull amber glowstones. That and the green glass horns.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± Kev said scowling at a cut he took from Quicksilver as he went to inspect Fritz¡¯s trusty weapon. ¡°What is this even s''posed to be?¡± He grumbled nudging the jagged black blade away with the tip of his boot.

    ¡°Fritz¡¯s Fishblade,¡± Bert said.

    ¡°Quicksilver,¡± Fritz espoused frowning at his friend.

    ¡°It¡¯s not silver,¡± Kev observed.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± Fritz conceded, knowing the man wouldn¡¯t care about its storied past and great sacrifice as it was melted, nay tempered, by Eldritch Flame.

    The blade had turned a glossy black save the one-inch wide line down its centre. That core had remained silvery and opaline, scattered with flecks of many colours. Though it couldn¡¯t quite be seen it also had a branching crack running right through its middle in shades of blue-green, the same shade as the Sunken Spire¡¯s great burning beacon.

    With a grunt, the man continued to what really interested him, ¡°What''s with all the¡­ monster parts? Did you not find any Treasures at all?¡±

    ¡°Quicksilver is a Treasure!¡± Fritz proclaimed offended.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, but it¡¯s not,¡± Kev said harshly.

    ¡°It is to me,¡± Fritz grumbled.

    Kev looked Fritz and Bert up and down, seeing their ragged, torn clothes and eyeing Bert¡¯s slightly bulging pockets.

    ¡°Or maybe all the good stuff is in your pockets?¡± Kev seemed to mumble to himself. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll see in the pat down,¡± He continued in a louder voice.

    ¡°Pat down?¡± Fritz asked, they hadn¡¯t watched Sid go through a ¡®pat down¡¯ from the Spire¡¯s window-wall.

    ¡°Almost there, put your backs into it!¡± Kev ordered ignoring the question.

    They both groaned which earned them a jarring smack to the head each. Fritz wondered if he should feign being knocked out then and there, but decided against it. It would go against the plan. Complaining, Fritz used the opportunity to have Bert palm off his amulet to him.

    In what seemed like no time at all the boat was beside the cliff and Kev shouted at them to haul their loot out and in a pile in the centre of the outcropping. They complied, huffing and puffing as Kev watched them like a storm hawk, which made Fritz¡¯s job a lot harder.

    Still, with a little bit of clever misdirection, it wouldn¡¯t be all that hard. He called upon his Dusksong. The slinking unreality powered his Ability¡¯s activation and he moulded it into the shape he desired.

    ¡°Is that a blade squid?!¡± Fritz cried out pointing at an Illusory Shadow he had just cast under the roiling waves. It more resembled an oval of pitch black than a sleek squid, but as it was obscured by the water it looked close enough to be one of the lake''s sharp, scintillating denizens.

    Kev looked at where he pointed and squinted which gave Fritz the time to use another of his Abilities, Stone Pit. He aimed it on the cliff face, shaping it to be as narrow and unnoticeable as possible and he was able to create a smooth hole in an instant. He followed it up with another, then one on more, creating a hole at least four, maybe five feet deep in the stone''s surface. It drained his reserves quickly as he couldn¡¯t use his Dusksong¡¯s Mana with Stone Pit, as they were just too differently aligned for the energies to be compatible.

    The opening was still worryingly large at about a foot across but he couldn¡¯t worry about that now. Fritz quickly dumped his dagger, his barrier ring, Bert¡¯s amulet and their small, but filled to bursting pouch of gold triads into the hole. Then he stuffed it with some washed-out grey rags in order to hide it from cursory glances. Staggering a little from the Stamina use, Fritz stepped back quickly and promptly tripped on a bench falling and flailing into Kev.

    If Fritz had been worried about knocking the thug over, he needn¡¯t have been, he was like a statue, unyielding and solid even with the rocking gait of the boat. Kev caught Fritz before he tipped over the side and scowled at him.

    ¡°Maybe I should feed you to the blade squid, teach you a lesson for being so bloody weak you can¡¯t even unload a boat,¡± Kev growled. ¡°But it looks like it¡¯s your lucky night and the squid''s gone.¡±

    ¡°Lucky night indeed,¡± A voice like tarred gravel called out. ¡°I thought I heard a racket, and look what we have. The two little lunatics who tried to fight me. I hope you learnt something in the Spire otherwise you¡¯re both in for a hard time.¡±

    Jagged Nic in all his scarred glory strode out from a doorway, clad in his brown oilcoat and he turned his hard, dark eyes on them.

    Fritz gulped.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 2

    ¡°Get up here,¡± Nic growled through his scarred lip.

    Fritz and Bert quickly complied, scrabbling up with the last of their gear. It was hard work getting up the small stone outcropping, what with Bert and his great glass horns slung over his shoulders and Fritz with Quicksilver in hand. Kev followed up after them, glancing around to make sure they left nothing behind or stashed anything away somehow.

    Heart thumping, hoping that Kev didn¡¯t spot the hidden hole in the cliff, Fritz met Nic¡¯s assessing gaze not daring to look over his shoulder.

    Nic motioned at the jagged black blade in Fritz¡¯s hand and asked ¡°Treasure?¡±

    ¡°No, monster part,¡± Fritz replied tersely, to Nic¡¯s disappointed glare.

    Nic sighed then coughed, spat and began the interrogation, ¡°Got a Path?¡±

    They shook their heads immediately, having decided before hand on their cover story.

    ¡°What level are you?¡± Nic said sighing, seemingly even more disappointed.

    ¡°One,¡± Fritz replied.

    ¡°Tw-One,¡± Bert said at Fritz¡¯s glare and elbow jab.

    ¡°Uh-huh. Wouldn¡¯t be lying to old Nic now would ya?¡± Nic asked with a cruel smirk further twisting his notched face.

    ¡°No, level two,¡± Fritz said sullenly then added, ¡°Sir.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t sir me, boy. Ain¡¯t no titles in the Sunken Ring. Or in the Nightshark¡¯s employ for that matter,¡± Nic growled, his scowl somehow deepening further and his dark eyes glinting with suspicion.

    ¡°Yes...boss?¡± Fritz said, glad that the man had believed them. The weaker they were the less likely they were to be dragged before the Nightshark and have their story more thoroughly questioned. That meant no Paths. He hoped that posing at level two would render them too weak, and unimportant enough, to come to the notice of the power that ruled the gutters.

    ¡°Right. Now what Attributes and Abilities did you choose?¡± Nic asked as if by rote.

    ¡°I uh¡­ can I check my Sanctum?¡± Fritz asked.

    ¡°Sure, Attributes first then we¡¯ll chat about what ¡®wonderful¡¯ Abilities you chose,¡± Nic said drily.

    ¡°Why?¡± Bert said as if he didn¡¯t quite get what was going on.

    ¡°So we can see if you got anything good, something the Nightshark might make use of. Idiots,¡± Nic said. ¡°Hurry up, we don¡¯t have all night.¡±

    Fritz sat and dived into his Sanctum, reminding himself of the Abilities and Attributes he was going to tell Nic about.

    His feet squelched in the muddy ground. Rain fell heavily over the willow branches over his head, protecting him from the torrent. Standing in the writhing shadows He thought he might as well view his Spire sheet while he was here.

    ¡°Spire sheet,¡± Fritz said and thought, the silvery, glowing glyph appeared humming dully.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 10

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    Sigil: Sunken Spire, Gold Award

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 3

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 9

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 18

    Control: 9

    Dusksong: 6

    Grace: 6

    ---------

    Activated 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow¡¯s grace, deliver foes, to night¡¯s embrace.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it¡¯s dire.

    ---

    Danger Sense

    Behind the boulder, up in the tree, lurking threats, can¡¯t hide from me.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Cloak of Dusk

    Wrap yourself in twilight¡¯s cover, what¡¯s one shadow from another?

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow - Evolution 1/3

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    The first thing Fritz noticed was the new ¡®Sigil¡¯ line at the top of his Spire Sheet. Strange it doesn¡¯t list out all the Awards. Then he focused on the small section and it expanded within his mind.

    ---------

    Awards

    ---------

    ---

    Bronze - Night Vision

    Though much is secret in the night, it won''t be hidden from your sight.

    ---

    Silver - Marbled Bones: Moonsilver

    Veins of silver, shining mesh, weaved in bones, beneath the flesh.

    ---

    Gold - Reignbreaker

    Shatter prisons, break the chains, throw down rulers, free demesnes.

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz still wondered about Awards but didn¡¯t have anyone to ask, save perhaps Nic, but asking him would blow their cover so that was out of the question.

    He quickly decided on the Abilities he would tell Nic about. He didn¡¯t want to tell them about Illusory Shadow and he couldn¡¯t tell him about Stone Pit lest they discover his hastily made hole in the cliff face. As for his Passive, he really didn¡¯t want to inform them of his wonderful Trap Sense and life-saving Danger Sense. So reluctantly he went with Gloom Strike for his Active and the Night Vision for his Passive.

    Though Night Vision was technically from an Award and not a Passive he hoped it was close enough that it wouldn''t be questioned too much.

    As for the Attributes, how many points did he get at level one again? Twenty-one and then three more for level two, I¡¯ll just say that I spread them over Agility, Perception, Focus and Memory. Which was close enough to the truth.

    Fritz gave his Sanctum one last look and returned.

    Nic was watching him expectantly, and Fritz rapidly spluttered out, ¡°I have six points in Agility, Focus, Memory and uh... Perception.¡± In reality, he had many more Attributes and some Advanced ones to boot but again his aim was deception.

    ¡°Not bad for a thief to have I suppose,¡± Nic grumbled, ¡°But why no strength? What''s wrong with you boy!? Just six would have made you considerably more useful. You could carry more loot for one. What kind of man picks Focus, Memory and Perception over Strength,¡± He added shaking his head.

    ¡°I wanted to able to see the danger, not wrestle it,¡± Fritz responded hotly.

    ¡°Course you would, you¡¯re a coward,¡± Nic said blandly. ¡°Abilities? Better be better than your miserable Attribute alignments.¡±

    ¡°I have Gloom Strike and Night Vision,¡± Fritz said glumly.

    Nic sighed, if Fritz had thought him disappointed before he was wrong, it seemed the man had completely written him off as a failure and a weakling. Which was his goal but he was still surprised at how much it stung.

    ¡°What?¡± Fritz said offended. ¡°They¡¯re great Abilities!¡±

    ¡°Sure they are, But Night Vision?¡± Nic shook his head again. ¡°You¡¯ll find out if you climb the Sunken Spire to the top. That¡¯s if you ever want to climb it again, most cowards don¡¯t.¡±

    So did everyone get the same awards from the Spire? Interesting. Did that mean Nic had climbed this Spire to the precipice? From his words Fritz suspected he likely had.

    Trying to probe for more information Fritz asked, ¡°What do you mean? Have you climbed all the way to the top?¡±

    ¡°Got to the top on the second try, not that it¡¯s any of your business,¡± Nic boasted.

    Fritz acted impressed, pushing awe into his tone and saying ¡°Woah. Even the two floors we conquered were deadly, have you climbed any of the other spires?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I have. The Mer Spire is a summer drizzle compared to the Sunken Spires winter storm, and The Rain Spire only gets hard at around the twentieth floor.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you get permission to climb the Rain Spire? Doesn¡¯t the King decide who goes in?¡± Fritz asked, now very glad they decided on trickery rather than ambushing the man as Bert suggested. If he had climbed all the Spires he said he had he was at least level thirty-eight and might be as high as level fifty. An enormous gulf of power, he was as strong or stronger than the rank and file of King¡¯s Scale Guard.

    Nic shrugged, ¡°Nightshark sent us in, with all the proper badges. Even got us a Guide. Which was mighty kind of them, knowing the prices those pompous pricks put on their services. They barely looked our way once we showed the Scale Guard overseer the badges. But enough about that, where did you put your points,¡± He said pointedly to Bert, who feigned being startled.

    ¡°I Aligned nine to Strength and Endurance, six to Agility,¡± Bert boasted.

    ¡°Good. At least one of you has some sense,¡± Nic said drily.

    ¡°And I have Tough skin and Concussive blow,¡± Bert continued, beaming from the scarred man''s praise.

    ¡°Both good Abilities,¡± Nic replied with approval greasing his rough tones.

    Seemingly dismissing any further questions Nic looked over the meagre loot from the Spire, ¡°Any Treasures?¡±

    Bert held up his gloved hands and Fritz gestured to his black suede-like boots, saying ¡°Found these in a bronze chest.¡±

    Nic pulled out a blue-tinted glass lens or rather a monocle rimmed with gold and inscribed with tiny runes around its edges. He held the thing to his eye and peered through it at them and then their pile of monster parts. His dark eye lingered on their magical boots, gloves and then snapped back to Bert''s ragged, torn vest and pants.

    ¡°Those clothes, you get them from the chest too?¡± Nic asked.

    Spire¡¯s spite! Fritz cursed inwardly, as their ruined clothes ruse was about to fall apart. If he knew Nic had a Treasure that could spot other Treasures they would¡¯ve hidden Bert''s garments in the hole with his ring and dagger.

    ¡°I did,¡± Bert pronounced proudly.

    ¡°Well they''re imbued, and a set,¡± Nic said.

    ¡°What''s that mean?¡± Bert asked looking dumbly at Nic. Fritz knew his friend well enough to see through Bert''s idiot act but it seemed Nic had a far lower estimation of his cognitive prowess.

    ¡°It means, that it has an Ability, and sets can do anything from unlocking extra Abilities or other effects to linking the item with the same effect allowing one Activation to encompass all the set items,¡± Nic explained in a casually gruff manner.

    Fritz hadn¡¯t known that, hadn¡¯t even thought about it really, he just assumed the vest and pants counted as one imbued Treasure. He wondered how Nic knew and then grasped the obvious, Nic was an experienced Climber, he had even worked with a Guide. And all knew that Guides were fonts of such knowledge, for the right price.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Bert said scratching his head in apparent thought. ¡°I just liked the colours. What do they do?¡±

    ¡°Activate it and find out,¡± Kev broke in with exasperation. ¡°Idiot.¡±

    Bert frowned at the man lifted his hand as if to hit the thug with a jet of Corrosive Spray and Activated his garment''s Ability. His clothes lit up with a soft glow and the tattered remains knitted themselves together as the grime and filth fled their fibres. There Bert stood in his vest of vididly light blue and pants of pristine white.

    ¡°Damn, I was hoping for an acid spray,¡± Bert said sullenly, then brightened on seeing his good-as-new outfit.

    Nic''s frown deepened, as he strode in front of the grinning man within a moment. He was moving fast, far faster than any normal man, he was as quick or maybe even quicker than the Hound. Nic planted a fist into Bert¡¯s gut before he could react. Bert fell to the ground wheezing, clutching at where he had been struck and struck hard, without much of the obvious restraint he had used on their first meeting.

    ¡°Don¡¯t Activate Abilities at us!¡± Nic commanded with a rapid kick to Bert¡¯s chest.

    Fritz didn¡¯t hear any bones break but he still winced at the thud, which was good because it stifled the small triumphant smirk he would¡¯ve worn after noticing that he could track Nic''s movements. The notched thug no longer blurred, no longer moved too fast for his eyes to see, and Fritz knew if he could see it he could scout it. And if he could scout it, he could find a way to kill it.

    His small moment of absent-minded plotting earned him a glare and some harsh words from Nic, ¡°Stop scheming.¡±

    When Fritz went to deny the accusation Nic cut him off, ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I know a grudge when I see it. If you¡¯re going stab me stab me.¡± He added gesturing to Fritz¡¯s hand, where he held Quicksilver tight enough that its edge had cut through its cloth hilt and into his palm.

    ¡°But you¡¯ll get just as he got,¡± Nic warned. ¡°So make it count.¡±

    Welcoming the invitation, and more than a little incensed at how Nic had treated his friend Fritz used his Gloom Strike, fueling it with the cruel, dark elements of his Dusksong mana. He found it didn¡¯t match the Ability completely but it was still compatible with it, costing more than it would have if he had Nightwell, about double the amount if he had to guess. He smirked, glad it had worked as it was far better than draining his Stamina.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Pulling his attention back to the present Fritz lunged forward with his shadow-wreathed black blade, thrusting it towards Nic¡¯s chest, where his heart would be, if he indeed had one. The man didn¡¯t even move, his eyes attempted to follow his sword''s strike but were seemingly unable to, gliding away from Quicksilver and instead meeting Fritz¡¯s glare blandly. Nic smirked and took the point head-on as if the blade couldn¡¯t cut him in truth.

    Which turned out to be only a small truth as Quicksilver¡¯s tip punctured his skin and dug into the muscle beneath. Nic must have sensed or seen something wrong because he scowled and his skin changed in an instant, where it had once been pale it went dark grey and metallic. Fritz¡¯s sword was stopped immediately, jarring his arm and shoulder from the sudden resistance. He tried to push harder, push deeper, but the blade wouldn¡¯t budge an inch, stuck as it was in iron flesh.

    A predicted pain like shattering and breaking pulsed over his nose so Fritz, not desiring to have his face pulverised, leant backwards out of the rapidly oncoming punch from Nic¡¯s iron fist.

    He was only mildly successful as he was still hit with blistering speed, but on the cheek rather than the nose. Using ¡®The Arte Pugilist¡¯s¡¯ move-with-the-blow Technique he was able to diffuse some of the punch¡¯s terrible force. Fritz threw himself at the stone, thudding to the ground like a sack of squid guts. He dropped Quicksilver with a clanging clatter and he felt a cut was opened along his prominent cheekbone. He knew it¡¯d bruise and bruise badly, but in his book, it was far better than having his nose broken.

    Danger Sense warned him of a powerful kick to the head and he quickly curled up into a ball to protect himself, catching the blow to his braced forearms instead of his fragile face and skull. With another kick to Fritz¡¯s curled body, Nic stopped his reprisal and spat to the side.

    ¡°Okay, Gloom Strike¡¯s not so bad,¡± Nic admitted, ¡°But you are. See, if you had some Strength behind you might¡¯ve actually got me.¡±

    Fritz knew the man was lying, he already had turned off whatever Ability he had used to turn his skin to iron having only having used it for a second when he was surprised by Quicksilver piercing into his flesh. Obviously, Nic was trying to make it seem like he didn¡¯t even have to use his magic to beat him, which Fritz now suspected wasn¡¯t the case at all. He had cut him, he could still see the hole in the oilcoat and while he couldn¡¯t see a trickle of blood he could swear he could smell its coppery tang.

    Not wanting to push his luck any further Fritz merely wheezed out a, ¡°Told you so,¡± before he slumped, pretending to pass out for a moment. Then he listened.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t have to hit him so hard,¡± Bert groused as he sat up, rubbing his chest where he had been struck.

    Nic spun on him, then searched him with a suspicious glare.

    ¡°I did, otherwise your friend would have some funny ideas about getting revenge. And I don¡¯t much like having to look over my shoulder for every brat who thinks I did them some great harm,¡± Nic said. ¡°Not that they could hurt me, but it does get tiring having to wipe their splattered remains off of my fists.¡±

    Bert shrugged, and said, ¡°Maybe if you weren¡¯t such an arsehole they wouldn¡¯t come hunting for you.¡±

    Rather than an outburst and another kick to Bert¡¯s chest, Nic instead chuckled coarsely, ¡°You¡¯d think that but, no. Being a bastard actually gets most of the morons to avoid you.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of others, weren¡¯t you in a crew with that burnt girl and her grumpy guy?¡± Kev asked.

    ¡°Jane and Toby?¡± Bert asked reflexively. ¡°They made it out?¡±

    ¡°They did indeed, with Paths and all,¡± Nic said. ¡°Did you split up or something?¡±

    ¡°They¡­ uh¡­ left us behind,¡± Bert said sadly, sticking close to the truth.

    ¡°I see,¡± Nic said sceptically.

    The fact that Nic knew nothing of their Climb meant they hadn''t questioned any of the other survivors about their crews. Maybe they just assumed that the missing were dead and didn''t want remind the new Levelers or Pathers of their losses and the thugs who were responsible. That, or they just didn''t care enough to watch all the street rats. Who would?

    Fritz put on a loud groan and pretended to stir then wake. He sat up and looked around wildly, putting a hand to his steadily swelling cheek.

    ¡°Looks like the sleepy-skulg has finally woken up,¡± Kev mocked.

    ¡°Got any of that healing grease?¡± Fritz asked as if dazed and done with his grudge. He wasn¡¯t done, no the fury still bubbled deep in his gut, but he could wait to mete out his revenge. He¡¯d done so for so long already, what was a couple more months?

    ¡°Here,¡± Nic said, throwing a tin of the stinking substance.

    Fritz only saw the swift movement from the corner of his eye but he caught the grease tin deftly in one hand. His motion was too quick, too precise, and far too smooth for it to look entirely natural. Internally, he cursed himself for slipping up and potentially revealing his Advanced Attributes of Awareness and Grace.

    ¡°Nice catch,¡± Nic noted darkly, his scowl and suspicion seemingly growing deeper.

    Opening the tin and smearing the bile-mint scented grease over his cut Fritz said, ¡°Thanks, got quick hands, always have. Though not as quick as yours it seems,¡± He added timidly with a wince. Fritz was worried he was laying the flattery on a little thick but it seemed to mollify the man as the suspicion left his notched features.

    ¡°Right. Up, and empty your pockets, time to pay tax,¡± Nic said as if he¡¯d said it a hundred times before, which he probably had.

    ¡°How much is the tax?¡± Bert asked as he and Fritz stood.

    ¡°Two-thirds,¡± Nic said, seemingly bored.

    ¡°What? That¡¯s robbery!¡± Fritz protested.

    Nic looked at him like he was an idiot, and replied, ¡°Yes. It is.¡±

    Kev chuckled maliciously with a glint of greed in his eyes as they began to unload their pockets.

    Luckily they had prepared for this eventuality, they hadn¡¯t seen Sid have to go through this treatment as she was led away almost immediately. Probably to go meet the Nightshark if Fritz¡¯s guesses were correct.

    Emptying their pockets took less time than the asking, they each had three golden triads and a selection of other small things, like twine, rags and their empty water skins. Bert however also had a palm-sized quartz stone orb that Fritz hadn¡¯t seen before and that his friend was obviously trying to keep out of his sight.

    Kev homed in on the gold as did Nic, but then he looked disappointed again saying, ¡°Really? That¡¯s all you have?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Fritz said defensively. ¡°It was horrible in there, we mainly hid and ran from the monsters trying to get to the next floor. Didn¡¯t have much time for butchering monsters or looking for chests,¡± He added hoping he sounded suitably sullen.

    ¡°Then what about the horns?¡± Nic asked drily.

    ¡°They look like they have flecks of gold in them, might be worth something,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°I was going to mount them above the fireplace as a trophy!¡± Bert blurted out.

    ¡°You don¡¯t even have a house let alone a fireplace,¡± Fritz bickered back, replaying an argument they¡¯d already had.

    ¡°Alright, alright, settle down,¡± Nic said annoyed at the bickering. ¡°We¡¯ll take the triads, this quartz, and the horns. That¡¯ll let you keep what you¡¯re wearing, the imbued clothes and the... fish blade,¡± He offered with a grimace.

    ¡°No, not the horns,¡± Bert intoned seemingly devastated.

    ¡°Shut up, it¡¯s just some dumb horns,¡± Fritz hissed.

    ¡°I want his boots,¡± Kev added, poiting to Fritz¡¯s feet, to which Nic nodded in agreement, saying, ¡°And his boots.¡±

    ¡°No, not the boots¡± Fritz intoned, actually devastated. Well, not devastated, but supremely annoyed at Kev''s gall. First tying my laces now stealing my beautiful black suede boots, he lamented silently. If Kev wasn¡¯t already at the top of Fritz¡¯s revenge list then this little stunt would catapulted him right to it.

    ¡°Do it. I¡¯ll take that ball of quartz as well,¡± Nic told an aghast Bert.

    ¡°How bout I give you the gloves and I keep the ball,¡± Bert bargained.

    Nic looked at him thoughtfully.

    ¡°They¡¯ll keep your fists from being stained,¡± Fritz rejoined, not exactly sure why Bert was so precious about the small sphere of quartz. He wondered where or when he¡¯d even gotten the cloudy ball. But if his freind was willing to go as far as giving away his gloves Fritz would back him.

    Nic seemed to think it over, then agreed with a jerk of the head.

    Grumbling and glowering Fritz and Bert complied, knowing that now was not the time or the place to fight, the previous scuffle and their new bruises had taught them that very well.

    Still, they plotted, planned and schemed as they were left with only the clothes on their backs, the orb of quartz and Quicksilver which the thugs didn¡¯t seem to care about. Which both offended and relieved Fritz.

    Still he had to stifle another smirk, giddy that their deception was working so well. He covered a giggle with a cough and put on the most mopey expression he could produce.

    With one last disappointed look at their ¡®loot¡¯ Nic motioned for them to follow. They were led out of the dome and into the dank tunnels where the sound of sloshing waves was replaced with that of the familiar, nostalgic drumming of the rain.

    Through the winding stone brick passages they trudged, and Fritz lamented the theft of his magic boots eyeing them jealously as they now protected another man''s feet.

    One day, Fritz fumed. He pushed down his anger for later, instead making sure to memorise the twists and turns of the dark maze-like tunnels.

    Eventually, after what seemed like nine minutes, they were led up some stairs and to a heavy wooden door that led to the outside, but before it was opened and they were left to fend for themselves Nic halted them and dug out two silver triads from a pouch and handed each of them one of the glittering triangles.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too drunk celebrating your survival, or do, I don¡¯t care. But don¡¯t talk about the Spire unless you want to wake up drowned. If anyone has questions say you were in hiding or doing a job for me,¡± Nic warned.

    They took the coinage as politely as they could manage, not bothering to hide the resentment and greed in their eyes. It was a pittance compared to all the loot they had just been deprived of, but it was best to take what they could get, and its not like they couldn¡¯t line their pockets later. And there were always their stashed Treasures, both in the hole in the cliff and hidden...elsewhere.

    ¡°You¡¯re to meet me at Bitter Ends down in the Bluestone district at dusk in three days. I¡¯ll have a new job for each of you,¡± Nic told them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me find you,¡± He warned, then unbarred and unlocked the door with a heavy brass key. He swung it open and they could hear rain in truth now as a cool breeze greeted them.

    They stepped out into the rain and felt it caress their skin with nostalgic fingers they stood there for some seconds before Nic said, ¡°Get a move on.¡±

    Fritz shrugged and out of the corner of his eyes saw a magnificent storm hawk, rain slipping off its dark plumage. The blue almost black feathered hawk was perched on a leaking roof and watching them with a lightning blue eye. If Fritz didn¡¯t know any better he would have thought the bird was glaring at him. It clacked its silver beak, puffed out its stormcloud grey breast and let out piercing cry before taking to the rainy sky.

    Nic subtly stiffened at the hawks call, a mote of surprise sparking from him that was quickly replaced with a dull aura of something like anxiety then something like relief. Fritz watched the man intently somewhat surprised he could somehow make sense of the impressions Awareness revealed about Nic¡¯s emotions.

    Must be because he¡¯s not so guarded at the moment, or maybe it was just a surprise? He theorised.

    ¡°Scared of birds?¡± Fritz smirked. ¡°Did they do that to your face?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Nic spat, glowering. ¡°Get lost or I¡¯ll have you two skulg scraping for a month.¡±

    Only needing to be told twice, they turned and left the two thugs behind. Fritz and Bert ran into then out of the dark alley they found themselves in, into a cobblestone street then they strode alongside a rushing gutter. After a couple of minutes, and then a couple more, once Fritz was sure they weren¡¯t being followed they glanced at each other, grinned, and both began to laugh.

    Leaning against stone walls in an empty street, they laughed until their throats were hoarse and their sides hurt. They slapped each other on the backs, congratulating one another heartily for their immaculate acting and the sublime success of their reckless ruse.

    ¡°We sure fooled them!¡±

 Arc 2 - Chapter 3

    Through the still-open doorway, Nic watched the two new levelers go splashing through the rainy alley. His cautious instincts didn¡¯t quite know what to make of them. Potentially useful? Maybe. Cunning schemers? Possibly. Complete idiots? Absolutely. But there was one thing he did know; they were up to something.

    The presence of a watcher had eased some of his worries, but intensified others. The Nightshark was already keeping an eye on them, so it was best to let his suspicions lie for now.

    Nic spat to the side and tried to relax his tightly clenched fists and slacken his too-present scowl. Wouldn¡¯t want to give myself wrinkles, would ruin my charm, he joked inwardly.

    ¡°Kev, make sure to dive and check the Spire lake¡¯s floor,¡± Nic ordered his foolish minion.

    ¡°Think they left some Treasure down in the depths then?¡± Kev responded, leaning casually against the stone brick tunnel wall.

    ¡°As sure as the rain,¡± Nic replied. ¡°Those two are trouble. Maybe more trouble than they¡¯re worth. I can feel it in my black-ironed bones,¡± He added darkly while tracing the one-inch hole Fritz¡¯s ¡®fish blade¡¯ had cut through his Tough Skin and into his chest. He¡¯d even been forced to use Iron Skin. The cut was surprisingly deep, and frighteningly close to where his heart lay, just six more inches and he¡¯d be dead.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just kill ¡®em now, save us the time and worry,¡± Kev asked perplexed.

    ¡°¡¯Cause they¡¯re the property of the Nightshark, and they might make ¡®em a lot of gold in the long run,¡± Nic replied with a shrug.

    He didn¡¯t personally have much of the eager blood lust his subordinate did, as he¡¯d seen and spilled too much blood to be excited by it anymore. But Nic did like keeping things simple and thought along the same lines. Killing them now would be less hassle.

    ¡°If it¡¯s about the gold and Treasure why don¡¯t we take everything off them when they come up? Seems a waste to let them walk away with what they had,¡± Kev pointed out.

    ¡°I don¡¯t make the rules. Nightshark does, and I just follow them. And you better do so as well. If you don¡¯t want to be found drowned in the gutter. Or worse, never found at all,¡± Nic warned.

    It was a warning he¡¯d given out many, many times to his gang, but somehow, for some idiots, it just never stuck and he¡¯d have to replace them. Well if Kev messes up I could always give Bert his job. He seems loyal and stupid enough to make a good right-hand man, Nic grimly observed.

    ¡°But the reason for the two-thirds-tax is simple. You try to take all the Treasure, they¡¯ll fight you to the death. You try to take most of the Treasure, they¡¯ll fight you a lot less. And it weeds out the truly stubborn and greedy. If you throw away your life for two-thirds of your loot, you¡¯re not made out to work for the Nightshark. Which means you aren¡¯t fit to live,¡± Nic explained just as it was explained to him long ago. ¡°That and it reminds them of who¡¯s boss around these parts.¡±

    Kev looked unhappy and dismissive of the answers given so Nic tried one last time to get the cruel idiot to see the storm in the clouds. He didn¡¯t want to find the fool dead, after all, Kev was his nephew and his sister would never let him hear the end of it. Even if the lout deserved it.

    ¡°Nephew, I know you didn¡¯t go through the Spire the hard way, like these wretches. But think on how it would be if you left the Spire and had your Treasures all stolen from you,¡± Nic said, trying to drive some sense into his dull brain.

    Kev thought for a moment as if placing himself in someone else''s shoes was some great feat, then said slowly, ¡°I¡¯d kill them for trying and if I lost I¡¯d get revenge.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. I backed you up on the boots thing, but I think you made an enemy for life there. You should be more careful about that,¡± Nic said.

    ¡°I ain¡¯t scared of Fritz, he¡¯s a weakling, level-two, squid-squeezer,¡± Kev said dismissively.

    ¡°A weakling can poison your beer when you''re not looking. A level two can rob you blind when you¡¯re not home or stab you when you sleep. It¡¯s best to keep things simple in our line of work; only make enemies if you intend to kill them. ¡®Cause that¡¯s where it always leads, always,¡± Nic rattled out as serious as the many graves he¡¯d filled.

    Kev huffed, obviously offended that Nic had suggested he¡¯d fall to a ¡®level-two¡¯s¡¯ hand.

    Nic sighed, though it sounded like a growl, and said, ¡°I want you to find me, what was it? Toby and Jody?¡±

    ¡°Toby and Jane,¡± Kev corrected.

    ¡°Toby and Jane. And have ¡®em come to me before our next meeting with Fritz. Something¡¯s wrong with their tale. It¡¯s probably that they dumped their Treasure in the lake, but it''s best to get another side of the story, just to be careful,¡± Nic ordered.

    ¡°Want me to do that after the dive, or before?¡± Kev asked sullenly as if given unfair chores to complete.

    ¡°Before. And don¡¯t be giving me attitude. I may be your uncle but your blood means less to me than the piss in my bladder,¡± Nic growled getting into his nephew''s face and glaring him down.

    Kev''s eyes went wide with fear and his forehead beaded with sweat, but he tried not to show how utterly terrified he was of Nic. That¡¯s good, He thought. Nothing like a bit of fear to build a bit of respect.

    ¡°Do your tasks, and do ¡®em well, or I¡¯ll break your bloody skull,¡± Nic promised.

    Kev nodded vigorously and fled through the doorway and into the rain-soaked alley beyond.

    Nic watched, then closed, locked and barred the heavy door.

    Nic needed a drink, so he took the dark passages that led him up through a trap door and into a dark room that stank of stale beer. He exited the room quickly and strode into the common room of a tavern and gestured at the barkeep who responded with his usual nod and began to fill a pewter mug with their usual ¡®best beer¡¯.

    Nic interrupted the rote routine with a short, serious sentence, ¡°I¡¯ll need the hard stuff tonight, Henry.¡±

    ¡°Problems?¡± The barkeep in his grey apron asked, reaching for a bottle filled with amber liquor from the shelves behind the counter

    ¡°Too many to count.¡±

    ---

    ¡°You know, I think we pulled it off perfectly,¡± Fritz proclaimed, even as he strode down the street without shoes, wincing as he stepped on a particularly pointy cobblestone.

    ¡°Except the boots?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Excepting the boots,¡± Fritz agreed affably. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan now we¡¯re out?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m getting drunk, just like Nic told us to,¡± Bert said jovially.

    ¡°I think he said the opposite of that, but it matters little,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°Think Veronica and Lynn still work at Tallies?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°Can¡¯t hurt to check,¡± Fritz said.

    ¡°What about you, will you join me for some fun? Or will you go searching for your glorious hero?¡± Bert asked.

    ¡°I need some new boots, then I¡¯m going to check on my brother and sister. I missed my last visit you see, what with the whole kidnapping. I need to let them know I¡¯m alive,¡± Fritz explained, trying not to think about Sid and the still raw feelings she brought up.

    Instead he focused on the future and began to plan on how and when to recover their Treasures. Now that he knew a way to the Sunken Spire it would be easy to find, but they would still need some time and equipment to get everything right and get everything out unnoticed.

    ¡°Fair enough, come find me when you¡¯re done,¡± Bert said as he ran off through the rain, he turned and waved then was off again making his way toward Tallies Trawler.

    Fritz smiled at the sight of Bert¡¯s eagerly retreating back, then set his own path through the tall tenements, taking his usual shortcuts through alleys and dilapidated, flooded and abandoned buildings. The rain wasn¡¯t too bad tonight, not quite a drizzle but also not pelting down like most nights, it drummed like a familiar lullaby that sang him into reminiscence.

    It was an odd experience, all those same places that remained as they were, yet looked stark and strange to his new sight. The shade and shadows no longer hindered his eyes and he could see as if it were only an overcast day, able to pick out the rats as they skulked and picked at their patches of scale with webbed paws. He even could make out dozens of skulg as they lay dormant, collected in their spiralling colonies, their bumpy shells blending in with the cobblestone and brick they were stuck upon.

    They almost looked like knobbly stalagmites as they slept and were silent. It must have been late indeed for the skulg to be inactive. Fritz wondered how long he had been in the Sunken Spire and made a note to check a calendar, or perhaps just ask his brother. He probably wouldn¡¯t do the latter, he didn¡¯t want to reveal himself as anything other than the most knowledgeable brother in the world after all.

    His mind drifted back to the question of how long he had been away and he reflected that it had to have only been a few weeks at most. And yet, his time in the Spire had changed him, irrevocably and he could only hope it was for the best. He doubted that though, as he remembered in flashes of pain, terror and rage. He had killed people, at least three, and lost half his crew, from both bloody battle and cowardly abandonment.

    Sombre feelings and a black mood threatened to encroach upon his triumphant steps, so he pushed the dark memories away.

    He could deal with them later. Much later.

    For now, I have boots to find and family to mind.

    He made his way over the oft-flooded streets, finding and crossing them with the narrow wooden planks that served as walkways. It was said that Rain City was sinking, and had been for hundreds of years. But Fritz suspected this was not the case, as the Upper Ring behind the second circle of walls and where the Rain and Mer Spire¡¯s stood, never seemed to have the same flooding problems the Sunken Ring did.

    No, Fritz¡¯s observations from living down here with the weak and poor told a different story. For one the uncountable gutters were too narrow, sparse and often blocked for all the water coming down from the Upper and Palace Rings. And for two the seawall was leaking, dripping constantly as the Antaru Ocean strained to get through. Those minor leaks were never repaired though, only major breaches or stalled trade on the docks ever got the king¡¯s attention and were then remedied immediately.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    His royal highness, Floodbreaker, The Aqueous Lance, King Alphonse Rain had ruled for five decades, and the Sunken Ring had suffered for it. Well, that was at least what the old storytellers insisted, as they were intent on reminding people of the good ol¡¯ days, when the King¡¯s father, the now abdicated, King Alain the Torrent¡¯s Tide, had ruled.

    But again Fritz had his doubts about things being better under the previous king, especially if anything about kings written in ¡®The Observations¡¯ held to be true. He was sad to have to leave the little Technique book behind in their stash, but they would be reunited in time. That¡¯s if the water or something worse didn¡¯t get to it. He shuddered at the thought but reconciled his actions with the keen instinct that it¡¯d better off destroyed than in the hands of the Nightshark and their cronies.

    As he strolled through the nostalgic rain, he noticed the slight keening tingle in the back of his mind. It had been there for some time but he had been too distracted by the familiar sights and sounds seen with newly enhanced eyes and ears to lend it any attention. Anxiously, wary and searching for threats he focused on the sensation. He could feel the strange sense pull his attention to...doors just ordinary doors and empty frames.

    Fritz sighed, glad it wasn¡¯t Trap Sense, or worse Danger Sense, warning him. He was somewhat surprised to find that all those niggling feelings were just him detecting all those mundane entrances. He had thought that Door Sense would only work the Spire Doors and Stairways, but here he was able to know where a side door or attic hatch was within the buildings he walked past. A curious and interesting Ability indeed, and one with much potential in finding hidden rooms and secluded places.

    Fritz was tempted to go exploring, to search for any secreted stashes or any other lost and abandoned goods that were scattered in the more disreputable parts of the Sunken Ring. A storm hawk called out a cry and he shook his head and returned to his mind to his mission.

    Finally, after an hour or two of walking, bemoaning the loss of his boots and dearly wishing he had something like Shoe Sense, Fritz could see the great stone wall that separated the Sunken Ring from the Upper Ring. They were at least twenty feet high and interspersed with grates of dark iron that perpetually poured a powerful spray of water into the Sunken Ring below like some great sieve. An eternal mist of water vapour swirled up and surrounded the base of the equally eternal walls.

    All that could be seen from below the curving wall were the towering Rain Spire and the smaller Mer Spire that stood on the opposite side of the Upper Ring looming like titans through the rain and fog.

    Fritz knew the centre most walls also lay within, the Palace Ring between the two Spires, ready to spill out the King¡¯s Scale Guard, in case of a Spire Break. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t only be the Scale Guard and their Captain. Nobles and their Spire teams might join the fray if the monsters seemed harmless enough, or if there was profit in doing so. Which there usually was, as monster parts and meat could sell quite well, even if there was a sudden surge of the same materials.

    The iron grate gates were shut this late, and the storm guard were doing their nightly patrols around and atop the wall. They did so in trios, the rain sliding off their waterproofed, distinctly light-blue tabards and the dull grey leather armour underneath.

    One patrol above and one coming up from behind Fritz sequestered himself in the shade of a ruined, roofless house. He didn¡¯t want to be seen and then subsequently shaken down for his last silver after all. The storm guard were as bad as muggers if not worse in Fritz¡¯s opinion. But being part of the gangs might have coloured his view a bit, he allowed.

    The drizzlers strode down the road as if they owned it, which in a sense they did as the storm guard got their mandate from the nobility, ostensibly to protect the people and the city, but really, all they amounted to were enforcers, no, thugs for the Upper Ring to keep the riff-raff in their place.

    The patrol slowly approached where he lay hidden, they carried a mana lantern, its light creating a slight scintillating halo around it in the swirling mist. It only illuminated a few feet in front of them and occasionally flickered. Must be running low on capacity, Fritz guessed. Or its broken. He amended as the guard holding the lantern thudded a meaty fist on it as it flickered.

    ¡°Damn piece of junk,¡± A guard groused. ¡°Can we stick some mana in it? Can¡¯t see a thing out here.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but it comes out of your pocket,¡± a familiar voice growled. Fritz tried to place it but couldn¡¯t quite remember who it belonged to. That was until they got closer.

    One of the drizzlers was a sergeant and when his hard, lined face came into view he recognised him as one of the guards that had given him particular trouble over the years. Hassling, harassing and hurting a young and weak Fritz for almost a decade. Sgt. Rob had made his teens a true torture ¡®fining¡¯ him many times even when his work had been completely legal, or legal adjacent.

    He was built like a squat bull and hunched his shoulders as if bearing some heavy burden, it was probably the overwhelming weight of being such a complete arsehole, Fritz had surmised long ago.

    He struggled with his desire for revenge again, looking down at Quicksilver and wondering if he could possibly get away if he impaled one of them through the neck or heart. He didn¡¯t know exactly how strong the Storm Guard were, only that they were sent through the Mer Spire and sometimes the Rain Spire during their training.

    It was likely they had some sort of Guard Path they knew how to reliably receive, and they might even out level me, Fritz theorised.

    Eventually, he decided against attacking, no matter how much it might relieve some of his fury. He reasoned that he didn¡¯t actually want to kill, not again. He just wanted¡­ he didn¡¯t know¡­ justice¡­ retribution? But a stab in the dark wasn¡¯t the vengeance he desired against this man. No, it would have to be... fitting. That and if you kill or injure one of the guard they¡¯d hunt you down as sure as any hound. Right now revenge wasn¡¯t worth the risk.

    He let out a soft sigh, relaxed his frown and pushed down the festering years-long resentment, calming his nerves and remaining hidden.

    Standing in the shadow of the wall and waiting as the grizzled guards passed by, Fritz marvelled as their eyes slipped right past him even though he was so close. He was near enough to reach out a hand and grab one. So he did, the sergeant''s triad purse that is. Timing his strike to when the mana lantern flickered again, Fritz¡¯s hand slinked out as subtle as a snake and seized upon the cloth and its knotted string. With fingers now enhanced by Grace and Agility, he easily loosened the string¡¯s knot and took the purse from where it was tied to a woven leather belt.

    He stepped backward into the deeper dark, clutching the purse to his chest and holding his breath the whole while. The sergeant never noticed a thing and continued trudging down the street. Fritz smirked, hefting the small pouch of, hopefully silver, triads. Cloak of Dusk already paying off, he gloated inwardly, tying it off to his own dark rope belt.

    After some minutes, once the coast was clear, he found his usual climbing spot, a section of the wall close by that had just the right handholds in the form of chipped and cracked stone. His fingers alighted upon the weather-worn wall, gripping between the smooth stone and he began to scale the dark, almost-black bricks. He had been a little afraid that his new weight, on account of his marbled bones, would make the climb all the more difficult. But he found that his increase in Strength had mostly cancelled out the added strain on his muscles and he pulled himself upwards with some small effort.

    The way up was also far smoother and he barely needed to concentrate on his balance and where to put his feet and hands next. It was like his Grace was guiding him down, or up, some subtle path of least resistance, bolstered by his keen Awareness and precise Perception. He was at the top quickly and quietly, only scuffing against the wet stone when he made a few small mistakes, the sounds of which were easily smothered by the endless rain.

    From his vantage on the wall, he stared over the Sunken Ring in all its disrepaired, drowned, dreariness. The snaking gutters, tall tenements and flooded street below made up the Darkwood District or Desperate District as it was known by the locals.

    There were nine districts in the Sunken Ring each in varying stages of flood and fortune. They were separated by the nine outer canals or ¡®great gutters¡¯, like huge slices of questionably fresh squid pie. Besides the desperate district to the east was the self evidently named drowned district, where only the tallest of structures peaked over the water¡¯s surface. It had been lost to floods before Fritz was born. Few of the submerged houses had been tall at all and now lay forgotten, rotting and home to the many fish, eels and squid that now lurked within.

    To the west lay Bluestone District, with its more robustly built tenements and taverns of that dark blue-grey stone that gave the district its name. It was the closest thing to a prosperous and safe place outside the Upper Ring. Its sprawling market drew all those from the other districts to set up stalls and sell the all wares too common, damaged or dubiously acquired for the Thoroughfare Markets.

    Fritz was distracted by a commotion coming from the guards that had passed by him earlier, apparently, Sgt. Rob had noticed the alarming absence of his triad pouch.

    It took some control not to giggle, no, chuckle, as he watched the sergeant backtrack, curse and search the street below for his collection of wages and bribes. Fritz emptied the purse into his own, transferring the silver and bronze triangular coinage, and threw down the empty pouch into a puddle far below, where it splashed and now floated on the rippling water.

    Giving the drizzler the chest-to-heart salute they were so fond of, Fritz bid the guard a silent farewell and no luck. ¡°May you trip and drown,¡± He whispered. Of course, he couldn¡¯t be seen in the dark and behind the parapet, nor heard over the drumming rain, but it was the thought that counted.

    He turned his back on the Sunken Ring and skulked to the other side of the wall, quickly climbing over the lip and down the dark stone until he landed lightly on the paved streets of the Upper Ring.

    He searched the street for guards and found none, so he resumed his great quest.

    ¡°On route to loot boots.¡±

 Arc 2 - Chapter 4

    Fritz reflected that the streets in the Upper Ring were far more orderly and far less flooded. There weren¡¯t any dingy alleys he could hide or sleep in as that¡¯s where the drainage canals lay. The rainwater rushed down the canals to the wall behind him filling the gutters then, ostensibly, flowing out to sea but instead often overflowing into the streets of the Sunken Ring. Up here there was also a conspicuous absence of skulg, rats, beggars and thugs.

    Instead of grumbling about the unfairness of it all Fritz set off to where he thought the Thoroughfare Market to be, keeping a wary eye out for the drizzler patrols. He shivered, the cool of the night beginning to take hold and his soaked clothes getting uncomfortably chilly. Though in retrospect he should have been feeling the cold much earlier. Must be Endurance lending me some strength, he mused. I should look for a coat as well.

    He wound through the streets until he found the wider thoroughfare lined by windowed, rain-shaded storefronts and split with a large canal. He had found his destination. Fritz knew from the many maps he had committed to memory that this thoroughfare ran the centre of the Upper Ring in a great circle. It connected the two looming Spires by smooth paved roads and the great canal that intersected the nine great gutters that carried goods and people through the districts. During the day the thoroughfare¡¯s canal would be filled with boats, however in the late hours of the night the water flowed fast, free and clear of any vessels, gurgling and sloshing chaotically.

    He hadn¡¯t risked much burglary in the Thoroughfare Market before, as it swarmed with patrols of Storm Guard and the stores themselves were more secured, with heavy wooden doors and more complex locks. And every time he had stolen in the Upper Ring he had been almost caught. He put his past concerns and fear out of his mind. Now that he had his Powers he suspected it would be far easier to avoid the drizzlers, plus the goods would be far nicer.

    After some small searching, Fritz spotted what he was looking for, a dangling polished wood sign carved with a boot and reading: Blueheel Cobbler. He stepped under the wooden rafters that shielded prospective customers from the rain or would have if there were any out at this time of night. No, this was too far away from the Spires and noble estates to have any of the city¡¯s tall, brass mana lamps and bustling nightlife, so it lay empty and quiet save for the rain''s pattering.

    He almost felt bad for attempting to burgle this out-of-the-way cobbler, but he reasoned that this store was still in the Upper City so it must be doing well for itself. And I¡¯ll only take what I need, he promised stretching his cold, wet, aching toes.

    He sidled up to the heavy door and pulled forth two small metal fish bones that he had saved, some of the more tiny ribs of the Quicksilver Swordfish they had butchered so long ago.

    Not that long ago, he reminded himself as he slipped the bones into the brass lock.

    Picking the lock was easy, his hands didn¡¯t shake and his movements were supernaturally precise now. That and he could filter out the noise of the rain with his Perception and listen to the clicks of the tumblers being set into their proper places. He could also feel Awareness subtly suggesting how and where the correct positions were so he let it guide him.

    It took him half the time he would''ve taken before even with a less sturdy and complex mechanism and he smirked giddily as it clicked then finally clunked as the door unlocked. He tried the handle and the heavy wood swung inwards without a creak. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing nothing amiss he slipped into the dark, deliciously-dry shop.

    He scanned the unlit room, to him the sight was as clear as an overcast day and he rapidly located the kind of boots he was looking for. They sat in the display window and were made of grey leather, were waterproofed and came up to his knee. The fit wasn¡¯t quite right for Fritz¡¯s slightly smaller-than-average feet but they would stay on well enough and would protect him from puddles and rain for now. They were a terrible replacement for his magic boots but having dry feet was a necessity in Rain City.

    He spotted some heavy black woollen socks, inexpertly made as they were he assumed that they were some project of the owner''s sons or daughters instead of the goods produced by a dedicated clothier. Still, he took a pair of the slightly misshapen socks, then a second pair for Bert then a third pair for himself just in case he lost his first pair. Drying off his feet he quickly slipped the wonderfully soft socks over his aching feet, then after a thought put his second pair on over the first.

    This should help with the too-big boots, He told himself as he pulled the sturdy grey boots on hastily. As he began to leave he saw a black leather belt with a brass buckle by the front window, so he wrapped it around his waist and buckled it adding it to his collection and crimes.

    Fritz considered leaving some triads for the items he just stole but decided against it, reminding himself that he would need all the coin he could get to resupply himself and Bert for their quest to retrieve their stashes of Treasures.

    Not wanting to linger long he left the shop through the front door, re-locking it in a show of goodwill. ¡°Only took what I needed,¡± He whispered.

    Fritz strode under the rafters while he searched for his next mark, only dipping out into the rain to avoid the patrols of drizzlers. Walking three abreast and one carrying a bright mana lantern they would bump into him if he stayed in under the rain shades. Cursing he had to skirt the edges of the light and slip around them getting more wet and cold in the process.

    After ten more minutes of walking, he began to shiver once again and finally found a clothier¡¯s shop. He didn¡¯t bother to look at the sign as he could see into the display window and saw a dark purple coat that piqued his interest and stoked his greed.

    Fritz glanced to the sides, making sure there were no patrols heading his way and kneeled before the elegantly carved door. I must be in one of the wealthier sections, he realised while he took in the intricate steel lock.

    Fritz picked the lock with his trusty fish picks, it was a harder task than the last time but he still managed it without much trouble. Again he swung open the door took a peak inside and ducked into the clothier. Inside there were clothes of all cuts and kinds on display as well as large mirrors and a set of stairs going up, likely to the clothier¡¯s living quarters.

    He nearly raced to the coat he saw from the front window but instead stood still for some moments remaining cautious. After nothing happened he skulked in and quickly attempted to assemble an outfit of the toughest-looking finery he could find without going into the backroom.

    Deciding to behave as a polite burglar Fritz was careful not to disturb the displays too much and made sure he put things back as they had been once he had inspected them. Much to his chagrin a lot of the clothes simply wouldn¡¯t fit his slight frame, even if he was slowly filling out. A lot were made for men larger around the waist than him or for small children.

    Resignedly he took what would fit him, ending up with a plain cream shirt, dark trousers and, happily, the deep dark-purple coat. The strange almost silken coat was light, warm and a little over long, but he felt the added length only complemented his odd mystique. As he was admiring his new look in the tailor¡¯s tall mirrors and thinking he cut quite the figure he felt a buzz in the back of his mind and a sudden sense of urgency.

    Trap Sense? He wondered, looking around for any pressure plates or tripwires he might have somehow missed. There were none, but his instincts, no, his Awareness combined with his Trap Sense drew his eyes over the wonderfully woven entrance rug. Still, he saw nothing but with a small dread building in his chest he quickly approached the rug and lifted it off the hardwood floor.

    There, carved deep into the planks were a line of softly glowing runes, that grew brighter as he knelt to inspect them. Reacting to something? He wondered, as they flashed red for a moment then went suddenly dark, dull and lifeless. At the same time, the door and display window were covered with a near-invisible barrier and a high, keening note pierced the drumming of the rain.

    Fritz stood still, stunned at the events, he¡¯d burgled stores like this before, snuck into the far more secure estates of the nobility and nothing like this had ever happened. Had he got sloppy and overconfident? No, he couldn¡¯t say he had, he¡¯d done everything as cautiously as he used to.

    In fact, he thought, now that I have Abilities and Attributes I should be harder to detect. What went wrong? Why didn¡¯t the alarm go off immediately? Is it just bad luck or something worse?

    Through the rain, Fritz could hear the thudding of boots on pavement and see the rapidly approaching light of a mana lantern. Of all the times to mess up it had to be the very night he got out of the Spire.

    Typical really, he lamented.

    Figure out why later, for now hide or find another way out, he told himself as picked up Quicksilver from where he had left it in the umbrella basket and stood back from the door, searching for a place to sequester himself safely.

    He let his Awareness expand over and past the walls of the clothier¡¯s shop, tuning his Attribute with his Door and Trap Senses to expand Awareness¡¯s capabilities further. In the back room he got the feeling there was a trap door that led down to a basement and as that was his best chance he dashed then knelt before it. He went to gather his picks when the noise stopped and the front door¡¯s barrier dropped.

    Hurriedly with fish bones in hand, he went to open the back room door¡¯s lock but stopped when his Trap Sense trilled in his mind when his tools were only an inch away from the keyhole.

    Cursing, Fritz rolled behind a counter, hiding behind it as light poured in from the display window. After only moments the front door opened and three guards strode in their mana lantern glowing bright and illuminating the entire store.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Crouching and listening, Fritz waited for a chance to slip away or for them to leave when they saw that nothing had been broken and that the finery was still in place, save those few small things Fritz was currently wearing, and wearing well if he did say so himself.

    Not the time, he scolded, watching as the drizzlers searched.

    ¡°See anything?¡± One of the guards asked.

    ¡°No, but there¡¯s something off, my Awareness is itching,¡± Another replied in a whisper that Fritz could easily hear with his enhanced Perception.

    Damn it, Fritz cursed inwardly. Of course, a Guard Path would have Awareness.

    ¡°You heard the man, search the place,¡± said a soaked sergeant entering the shop with another two guards and wringing water out of her long, dark, maybe brown, hair.

    They took to the task with abandon, stomping through the storefront. One of the drizzlers, the one with Awareness, heading right for the counter he crouched behind.

    Just then, there was a click and the creak of a door. A woman poked her head out of the upstairs doorway holding a small, dim mana lantern of her own and peering down at the guards below. She was bordering on middle-aged with mousy locks confined in a pink hair net and a suspicious glint in her grey eyes.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± She demanded brusquely. ¡°Why are you trampling all over my store?¡±

    The guards stopped and all looked to their sergeant who spoke for them, ¡°No cause for alarm. We think it was a break in ma¡¯am, we¡¯re just looking for the thief.¡±

    ¡°No cause for alarm!" the lady scoffed. "If there¡¯s a thief, catch him quickly!¡± she urged the obviously annoyed sergeant.

    Fritz quickly weighed his options. He could surrender? Never! He very much doubted he could fight off five guards and their sergeant, so that was out of the question. So he searched his surroundings. The shop was mainly made of wood, but the walls and front and back door frames were stone brick. He couldn¡¯t dig right through them with Stone Pit without exhausting himself but the idea gave him a brief glimmer of hope.

    A plan rapidly rampaged into his mind, an insanely risky one to be sure but he wasn¡¯t called Mad Fritz for no reason.

    Fritz peeked over the counter pulled on his Dusksong and wove an orb of Illusory Shadow around the guard''s lantern, the light cut off as it was covered by solid black, plunging much of the store back into shadow.

    He prepared to engulf the woman¡¯s dim lantern next but before he did so he quickly called on the power of his Stone Pit ability. His Stamina drained, his body became heavier from the fatigue and he cast the spell. It warped the stone frame of the back room door, creating a gap around the lock, allowing the door to be freely swung open.

    He darted towards the back door, eliciting a shout of ¡°There they are!¡± from both a guard and the woman on the stairs. His second cast of Illusory shadow slinked out, covering the last dim mana lantern as he reached the door, plunging the room into blackness.

    It wasn¡¯t, however, dark at all to Fritz, so he thudded into the door hopefully making a sound approximating to it being slammed, and bounced off. As the guards stared stupidly into the dark or rushed wildly to where they had seen him. They thudded into each other and one tripped and fell from some small interference from Fritz as he put a leg out in the dark. He easily dodged the grasping guard as they crashed to the hardwood floor.

    Fritz circled around the store, avoiding making any sound with his skulking, Graceful steps. Then he hid again, this time close to the front door that was currently too crowded with drizzlers to get through. He slipped himself under a mannequin''s bell-shaped dress, making sure not to ruffle the extravagant lace or accidentally tear it with Quicksilver¡¯s jagged edge.

    Should have left it at my hideout or handed it off to Bert, he self-recriminated silently.

    One guard stumbled to the back room door and his hand found the handle, the trapped handle. There was a loud crack and a bright flash like that of lightning, it illuminated the whole room for a second before the dark returned. Peering through a small gap in the fabric, Fritz saw the guard fall, his grey armour smoking slightly and he lay in a crumpled, twitching heap.

    ¡°Watch out, the back door is trapped,¡± The woman, presumably the owner, belatedly warned in a high, guilt-ridden voice.

    ¡°Spire¡¯s spite!¡± the sergeant cursed, ¡°Someone get some light!¡±

    Fritz¡¯s Illusory Shadows had faded away already, but surprisingly he noticed that the lanterns were no longer lit. It seemed that the Light Eater Evolution was much more far potent than he thought. It had dispelled the magical lanterns completely. If that effect was permanent he might have to rate this new aspect of his Ability even higher than he already did. Alas, it was not to be. The light flashed back on as the guard fed the magical light source a gold triad, grumbling and cursing the whole while.

    As the room filled with new light one drizzler closest to the back door kneeled at his friend''s side and checked him over.

    ¡°He¡¯s alive,¡± He called out. ¡°Just stunned, Durability saved him from the worst of it.¡±

    The sergeant let out a soft sigh of relief, so soft that Fritz supposed he was the only one who heard it. He held himself tensely, ready to spring out the front door once the way was clear.

    ¡°Bloody bastard, when I find the sneak thief I¡¯m going to ring his neck,¡± said the guard Fritz had tripped as he got to his feet and patted himself down.

    ¡°Not before me,¡± the guard with the lantern growled. ¡°He just cost me a gold triad, he did.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± Another asked.

    ¡°They have some sort of stone shaping and a dispel,¡± the sergeant groused, ¡°It¡¯s a nasty combination, can¡¯t have that running about the city. The captain will have all our balls if we let them slip past us.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t see how that¡¯s a problem for you, Sarg. Seeings as you have none,¡± one of the guards commented, to a smattering of chuckles.

    ¡°Oh, please, as if that would stop the captain,¡± the sergeant said, then began searching the room. ¡°Now, where¡¯d that bastard go?¡±

    Sweat beaded on Fritz''s brow as he waited for the guards to leave the doorway, he felt at the fuzzy, shifting unreality of his magic. He grimaced as he found it practically gone with only a few dark, twisting motes floating around his Sanctum. Makes sense, cast a three-cost ability twice and I only have six aligned Dusksong.

    One of the guards finally got out of the way and not wanting to miss his chance Fritz sprang out from his hiding spot with a swish of lace and rushed towards the door. He sprinted past one guard who had his back to him, then another guard noticed him and closed in on Fritz. Danger Sense¡¯s phantom pain rang over his shoulder and using the warning he dodged a sweep of a wooden baton rippling with waves of force then dived under another ferocious blow aimed at his head.

    He turned the dive into a roll that brought him swiftly to his feet when a guard blocked the doorway with baton raised and a hand out to catch Fritz by his collar. He let danger sense guide him, knowing the guard¡¯s weapon would strike between his head and his shoulder he stepped to the side, and the baton swung through empty air with a dull whistle.

    Seeing the opening in his foe''s stance, Fritz clenched his fist and precisely drove it up and under the man¡¯s chin. There was a thud and a click in the man''s jaw and he fell bonelessly to the floor. Fritz cursed at the ache in his knuckles, his uppercut had felt like punching a wooden dummy rather than a flesh a blood person.

    Still, he needed to escape so he leapt over the fallen drizzler and was almost out the door when a hand tapped his shoulder and his legs snapped together with irresistible force. Fritz toppled face first, his head hit the floor with a thump. He expected more pain and ringing from the impact but thankfully his fall was cushioned somewhat by the entrance rug.

    ¡°Got him with Bind,¡± a guard from behind called out. ¡°He¡¯s not running anywhere.¡±

    Fritz''s legs felt like they were bound at the ankles by some invisible unbreakable rope, but unwilling to give up so easily he began to crawl forward. The guards laughed at his attempt to flee. A heat burnt over his chest and face. Desperately thinking of a way out and remembering the binding of the goblin chief ring, Fritz directed his will to push and pull on the unseen rope in an attempt to slip free.

    To his surprise the bindings snapped after a mere moment of struggle, releasing his legs. Shocked as he was he still acted, quickly rising. Startled but alert enough to react, the guard beside him reached out again grasping his shoulder with a strong hand. He now knew why he had been caught by the Ability in the first place, why Danger Sense had failed him. It obviously didn¡¯t consider ¡®Bind¡¯ to be a deadly peril, or rather, imminent harm and therefore wouldn''t detect it.

    Fritz felt the spell again but this time he was ready for it and headed it off with his own will, breaking the binding before it had a chance to tighten around his feet. Then with a parting knee to the man¡¯s gut, he was off, sprinting out the door making it over the threshold and into the street.

    ¡°Idiot! What did I say about a dispel,¡± The sergeant roared as she darted out into the rain behind him.

    From what he could gather in the chaos of his escape it seemed that the Bind Ability was a spell that needed touch, which meant now all he had to do was lose them in the dark streets. And that meant he had already won.

    Fritz laughed manically as he fled, giddy delight thundering in his chest.

    Until something caught him on the ankles and he slipped and fell, again. He broke his fall with his arms rather than his head, sending his fish blade skittering away. His forearms and elbows screamed from the impact but it seemed he hadn¡¯t broken any bones. Which was good, so he quickly tried to figure out what or who tripped him. He rolled onto his back and searched the streets, seeing a rush of guards he turned his attention to what held him.

    It was that invisible binding again, and he fought it, but this one resisted his will, not snapping immediately as the others had. Though it couldn¡¯t fight him for very long and soon came undone as he tore away at its unseen strands with his Control and will.

    He somehow knew that this was the sergeant''s Bind, some ineffable sense linked the Ability¡¯s ¡®taste¡¯ to the impression of her. Awareness being weird, I suppose, he thought. Unfair that she has a ranged Bind though, is it an Evolution?

    Unfortunately fighting off the Ability had taken too long and the guards were already gripping him by the arms and legs as he lay on his back on the cool paved streets. He struggled but their strength was far greater his, obviously they had more aligned to Strength than he did. They held him implacably, hauling him up and taking him back into the store. As they carried him they hit Fritz with more Binds, ¡®just in case.¡¯ Not wanting to piss them off any more than he already had he just went limp and let them move him.

    So when he was planted in a wooden chair and forced to face both the woman he robbed and the full force of the law he was thoroughly unable to escape, restrained by both magical and physical might as he was.

    He lifted his chin with a haughty tilt and glared defiantly at the room and everyone in it. Whatever curses and accusations he expected to endure, he didn¡¯t expect to hear the next words spoken to him.

    ¡°Tomas- no... Francis? Is that you?¡±

 Arc 2 - Chapter 5

    "What?" Fritz said staring incredulously at the clothier, in her peach, silken shawl and heavy, pink, woollen bed robe. There was something about her lined face and grey eyes that felt familiar but he couldn''t guess where he knew her from, or rather, where she obviously knew him from.

    "You know this man?" The sergeant asked, kicking Fritz lightly on his newly stolen shoe.

    The clothier seemed to think for a moment, glancing around at the suspicious faces of the guards obviously trying to come up with some plausible story.

    "He''s my... dear... nephew," She replied stiltedly.

    "Is that so," The sergeant said sceptically.

    "Yes, isn''t that right, Francis? I gave you a key in case you were ever in trouble," She said imploringly.

    The clothier lady seems to be on my side. Somehow she knows me, knows my name, and I don''t know why. But as the Arte Pugilist says: just roll with it, Fritz thought. Let''s act the drunken fop for now, that should fool the drizzlers.

    "That''s right, Auntie," Fritz proclaimed, putting on a drunken grin and subtly slurring his speech.

    "I was in a spot of bother you see. I spilt wine. Red wine! All over my shirt, and it simply wouldn''t do! You see, I am to be visiting the Baroness Blackbridge at her earliest, or as she put it, her latest convenience," He said suggestively while giving a lecherous smirk. "And I couldn''t possibly turn up to her estate covered in wine, even if my shirt is superfluous to the visit. So here I am to get a new one from Auntie, who''s always been so good to me."

    "What on Epsa are you blathering about?" The sergeant demanded.

    A guard leaned into her ear and whispered, "He''s saying he was on the way to bed a baroness but ruined his shirt."

    "I know that," The sergeant said sternly. "But why were you sneaking about? And why did you run if you were welcome to take from the store?"

    "Because he knows I don''t approve of his gallivanting and dalliances with married women," The clothier supplied scathingly, catching on and adding to his act.

    "And, I don''t want to be arrested or fined by the fine folk of the storm guard," Fritz said smiling blandly and nodding his head to the side as if it was too heavy for his neck.

    Dusksong sang inside him as he continued his deception, seemingly rejoicing at his performance. He could feel the shifting power tickling his skin making him feel fuzzy and lending a certain flighty weight to his impersonation. Knowing he needed all the help he could get he embraced the energies of Dusksong wholeheartedly.

    The sergeant looked from him to the store owner, obviously not swayed but he could tell she was already thinking that this interrogation was more trouble than it was worth. Returning her cold gaze to Fritz she stared hard into his eyes with her of incongruously soft brown irises. As she stared her eyes glazed over for a fraction of a second then her pupils widened slightly. She blinked slowly. Her demeanour shifted somehow and she seemed to be on the edge of letting him go when another guard stepped into the shop from the rain.

    "Sergeant Louisa, he knocked out Denton and broke our lantern. And he had this," the drizzler said proffering Quicksilver and placing it with a clatter on the wooden counter just out of Fritz''s reach.

    The room looked over his fish blade and the sergeant, now broken out of her small daze, raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. When he just looked back at her as if confused she asked, "What is this? Some kind of weapon?"

    "Yes!" Fritz stated proudly. "It''s Quicksilver, my trusty blade, I found it in the Mer Spire. Anna, sorry, the Baroness, said she wanted to behold my gallant sword so I brought it for her to see," Fritz added, smiling stupidly.

    That earned some smirks and chuckles from the guards and even the sergeant shook her head at the ridiculous story.

    "You knocked out Denton?" Louisa pressed on.

    Fritz shrugged and said, "It was an accident."

    The sergeant sighed but undeterred she asked "What did you do to the lanterns?"

    "Now, now, a man''s Abilities are to be as secret as his Sanctum," Fritz quoted the highly held saying.

    "Not when talking to the Storm Guard, ''Francis''," Louisa warned stepping closer and glaring down at him.

    "It''s as you''ve already deduced, I have a dispel and a handy Ability to make Stone Pits. I''m a Controller you see," Fritz said pretending to be apprehensive and hoping that the small concession would stop the line of questioning.

    "Strange Abilities to get from the Mer Spire," The sergeant stated like it was a question.

    "Indeed! My father was able to trade some potent and rare refined seeds off of Jastil merchants, granting me my wonderful Powers," Fritz explained trying to come off as arrogant as possible, like some son of a powerful or wealthy noble.

    The remark seemed to have its intended effect as many of the guards either scowled or began to look anxious. Arresting the spoiled sons of nobility was never a great way to climb up the ranks after all. In fact, making an enemy of one of the noble families was a fine way to find oneself patrolling the drowned district without a boat or a head.

    The sergeant, much to her credit, didn''t seem too put off by the statement and merely nodded, then spotting something out of the corner of her eye she strode over to a crumpled wad of rags. She picked up and unfurled the rent and ruined linen of Fritz''s discarded and thoroughly mangled shirt.

    "I take it this is yours?" She said returning to stand in front of Fritz and holding out the dripping mess. "It''s cut to pieces, it doesn''t have just a wine stain, this whole sleeve is missing."

    "I fell, may have torn it up a little," Fritz slurred smoothly. "Then I tried to fix it, and well, as you can see, I''m no seamstress."

    "I''ll say. It looks like it''s been through a typhoon," one of the guards added as Louisa frowned and dropped the shirt on the counter with a wet slap.

    "A love typhoon!" Fritz burst out. "Though, I prefer the term ro-maelstrom," He hiccuped as the guards chuckled again at his feigned foppishness.

    "Right, I''ve heard enough," Sergeant Louisa interrupted brusquely. "Pay the fines for burglary, wanton violence and dispelling our lantern or we''ll have to put you in the stocks."

    "Surely not burglary, as there was nothing...burgled," The clothier helpfully interjected.

    "Fine, just pay for the violence and the dispel and we''ll be on our way," the sergeant snapped.

    "And how much will that be good lady?" Fritz slurred, beaming brightly then bringing out his triad purse and picking through the silver within.

    Sergeant Louisa narrowed her eyes at Fritz as if trying to come up with a suitably exorbitant sum and replied, "Three gold triads ought to do it."

    Knowing complaining about the enormity of the fine would ruin any impression of a wealthy lord''s rakish son he''d managed to impart so far, Fritz pulled out the eight silver triads he actually had. Including the one Nic had given him.

    "You have found me embarrassed, my gold was seemingly swept away this evening, like silk moths in a storm," Fritz said placing the coinage into the sergeant''s outstretched palm.

    Louisa stared down at the gleaming silver and her frown deepened as he was two gold triads short of the mark, as each gold was worth nine silver. Fritz could tell she was getting ready to give the order to haul him off to the stocks by the way her stance stiffened.

    "I''ll cover the fine, give me a moment to fetch the gold from my lockbox," The store owner offered.

    Looking annoyed, Louisa nodded and the woman quickly bustled up the stairs and into her rooms, then rapidly returned with three gold triads. They swapped the triads and the sergeant motioned for the guard to follow.

    She waited by the door as her men filed out, carrying their still unconscious comrade and with a warning tone she said, "Don''t run next time."

    Having said all she needed to say she turned and left, closing the front door behind her.

    Fritz let out a huge, suffering sigh that tailed into a weary groan.

    This encounter with the drizzlers had again shown him why he needed to climb the next Spire as quickly as possible. He needed more power, so he could avoid situations like this or be able to deal with them without having what felt like the whole soaking city come down on him. First, he had the bloody gangs, now the storm guard not to mention the Guides Guild if they found out about his Door Sense.

    It was all getting so heavy, having to fight and scheme, trick and lie just to scrape by. It was too much, far too much for one man. It was lucky then, that he still had Bert. Through thick or thin, Spire and fire, Albert would be there.

    The thought of his friend''s dumb grin heartened him. So instead of wallowing and hunching over Fritz stiffened his spine and hardened his resolve. Letting his fury simmer into searing ambition. There was a better future for him and his friends and family, he just had to fight for it. Just another push, then they¡¯ll get their due, He raged inwardly.

    "Francis," A voice softly called out to him as he glared into nothing.

    "What?!" He growled. Turning his head sharply and watching the clothier step back in fear.

    Guiltily, Fritz took whatever fearsome expression must have been on his face and smiled at the woman in apology.

    "Sorry, I was just lost in my own world for a moment¡­ it''s been a¡­ hard week," Fritz said in a low reassuring voice.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "I can see that, though it might be more apt to say you''ve had a hard couple of years," The lady said.

    Fritz nodded solemnly.

    "Sorry, your face is familiar and you seem to know me, but for the life of me I can''t recall who you are," Fritz said apologetically.

    "Oh...yes¡­ I''m Colette and I own this store and make many of its finer pieces myself. As for how I know you well¡­ you might not remember me but I used to do seamstress work and tailor for your family, this was before I got my own shop obviously."

    Fritz nodded along finally fitting a name to the face before him and his vague memories of the woman.

    "Why help? I mean, thank you, but why? Three triads is a lot of gold to be out," Fritz asked a little perplexed.

    Colette harrumphed and said, "It is a lot of gold. But your parents, well your mother really, helped me get a spot in a Climb your father was guiding. It was because of that and her frequent commissions that I even have this place."

    "And how could one see the son of their patrons and not help him when he¡¯s in obvious trouble? It would be beyond miserly and cruel to boot," She espoused righteously.

    Fritz smiled, liking the woman¡¯s manner more and more as the conversation went on.

    "What do I owe you for the clothes then? Now that it''s apparent I can''t burgle you," Fritz asked.

    "Oh it''s apparent now?" Colette chided with a sly smile that deepened the small wrinkles around her eyes.

    "I don''t rob my friends," Fritz grinned back.

    She laughed and adjusted her peach silk shawl to guard her against the night¡¯s chill.

    "Friends already, my how quickly you presume," She chortled.

    "What else could I call someone who just gave away three triads to save me?¡± Fritz proclaimed.

    "Just call me Colette or Ms Colette as you used to," She replied.

    "Of course, Ms Colette," Fritz said with a small smile.

    "So, will the silvers be enough for what I''ve taken?" He hopefully hedged.

    "Perhaps. But I can''t have you walking out with such ill-fitting garments. It would be a stain on my honour as a seamstress. So let me have a look at them first, do you have anywhere to be?" She asked.

    "I¡¯m in no rush, but I''m heading to see my younger siblings," Fritz explained as he reluctantly removed the deep-purple almost black coat.

    "Oh and how are they¡­ holding up?" Colette asked as she took the offered garment and placed it on the counter.

    "Well, enough I suppose, better than me. As I was thrown out of the orphanage years ago," Fritz said.

    "You were?!" Colette said startled.

    "I was," Fritz said. "Been on the street for a while now, and I just got out of a Spire¡­ the Mer Spire, that''s why all my clothes are torn to shreds," He quickly lied.

    "Mhm. Still, that''s no reason to go stealing. Especially up here," She said sternly.

    "I was desperate," Fritz said. When Colette gave him a disbelieving glare he relented, "Okay, maybe I was greedy, I just saw that magnificent coat and had to have it."

    "Flattery won''t get you anywhere," She stated as she begun to measure Fritz with a long spool of marked tape, but he could tell from the joy that radiated from her that it absolutely would.

    "Well, go upstairs and to the left, take off the clothes put them in a basket, place it outside the door and dry off with one of the towels," Colette said in a torrent of orders.

    Fritz shrugged inwardly and complied, trudging up the stairs and finding the small room. Within there was a large brass bathtub, a tall mirror and a multitude of deliciously soft towels. The air of the upper level was warmer and carried a mild scent of floral perfumes and dried flowers that soothed his raw nerves.

    He did as he was told and stripped and dried off, then waited for the clothes, that he had stolen, to be returned.

    He stared into his reflection and his eyes ran over his skinny scarred body, his dark hair and his strangely changed eyes, they were now a green mottled with purple just as Sid had said. Though he was still thin he no longer looked starved and he was even beginning to put on the shadow of muscles. Just you wait, you''ll soon be cured of spindel-itus, he told himself as he stretched and flexed.

    He heard the basket being whisked away and thought on his current naked predicament, he hoped this wasn''t some strange scheme.

    What an oddly lucky coincidence, to rob the clothier that owed your mother, too lucky even, his cynical mind provided. Don''t go questioning the good fortune too much. What could she possibly have to gain from helping you? No, Colette''s story seems to ring with truth, he argued inwardly, but there was something about the whole situation that made him feel like there was some old debt being repaid.

    It resonated with the favour he had promised to the Duskmoth but had yet to be called in. It was almost as if he could hear the clinking of the ephemeral chains wrapped around his Sanctum.

    He shivered, and not from the cold, the bathroom was quite warm all things considered.

    A knock came from the door and it startled Fritz out of his reflections. He must¡¯ve drifted off as he didn¡¯t know when or even how long he sat on the bathtubs lip.

    "Clothes are done," Colette''s voice rang out with a tone of pride. "When you''re ready come show me how they fit."

    He waited for the cushioned sounds of her steps on the carpeted upper floor to move away. Once he trusted she wasn''t lingering at the door for some nefarious purpose, like stabbing him. He opened and shut the door quickly pulling in the basket with his newly tailored clothes.

    They fit like a dream, and though the shirt and pants were a little damp from his fall and the rain he felt miles better. The kind clothier had even added a charcoal-coloured vest for him to put over his white shirt which he now noticed had a crest embroidered over his heart. It was a small circle enclosing a crashing wave all in light blue thread. He recognised it as the Hightide crest, his family''s crest, and his eyes misted slightly.

    He pushed away the pain and fought down the fury of the bleak reminder, but he wore the shirt and the crest on it anyway, bearing it stoically like an exile''s brand. What else could he do?

    Stooping and sighing, he quickly laced up his shoes. wishing he still had his boots from the Spire. He eased some his of anger by reconciling it with the fact that he''d have his revenge soon enough. Oh yes, he''d get his boots back and then Kev was going to pay.

    He looked himself over in the mirror and thought he cut quite the dashing figure, the deep purple of the coat matched the subtle purple shading of his striking green eyes. Had his eyes always been that intensely green? He shook his head not wanting to preen in front of a mirror for an hour like a parrot or like Bert for that matter.

    Fritz had places to be and he longed to be off to see his brother and sister but it wouldn''t do to just up and disappear on Colette. Not after the kindness she¡¯d shown or how much she''d already done for him.

    Swinging open the door he turned to his left and followed down a hallway down which he could hear the dull boiling of a kettle and the bustling steps of Colette. He passed by a small workroom of some sort, complete with fine fabrics, sharp scissors, many needles and copious coloured threads all haphazardly arrayed on a desk and the packed shelves. He was surprised at how messy the workstation was but didn''t intend to mention it to her, he was sure there was some method to the madness.

    He stepped into what he supposed was a sitting room as it had all the niceties with plush comfortable chairs, seats and cosy tea table lit by the warm light of a fireplace. He placed himself in front of the hearth within moments and began to wring and warm his cold hands.

    Colette walked in holding a polished steel tray laden with two porcelain cups and a white teapot painted with intricate pink flowers. She jumped when she noticed him standing there quietly and squeaked as a cup tumbled off the jostled tray. Fritz deftly caught it, snatching it out of the air and replacing it on the platter before it could fall.

    Hiding her embarrassment, Colette quickly placed the tray down on the small table while muttering "Boy, you almost gave me a heart attack. You shouldn''t sneak up on ladies like that."

    "I didn''t sneak up on anyone, I was just standing here," He refuted.

    "Well I didn''t hear you trudge in, at least make some noise so you don''t scare me half to death next time," Colette chided amiably while busying herself preparing the tea.

    "You''re right, I''m sorry. Still getting used to¡­ things. And the new outfit," Fritz said opening his arms and showing off how the clothing fit.

    She turned and looked him up and down with a discerning eye then nodded in satisfaction, ¡°Yes, it all fits nicely and you look wonderful! Every bit the young, dashing lord. Well, save for than nasty bruise, did the drizzl- the guard do that?¡±

    Fritz smiled at the compliments and shook his head saying, ¡°No, this was from a different set of thugs.¡±

    Colette frowned for a moment but seeing as Fritz didn¡¯t elaborate any further she implored, "Come sit, have some tea and biscuits before you go."

    She opened the tin and revealed the pale shortbread within.

    Fritz was about to make excuses and refuse her hospitality but after a week and more of eating nothing but the terrible monster meat or the even worse rations, he couldn''t pass up such a delight.

    He sat and took one of the biscuits, biting into its buttery, crumbly sweetness with a small groan.

    It was wonderful.

    How long had it been since he''d had something with sugar? He rapidly went for another as his previous shortbread had seemed to disappear in moments. Colette smiled and poured him a cup of steaming tea while humming a tuneless song to herself.

    When he was done with a second biscuit and was enjoying the hot, dark, bittersweet tea Colette asked him a question, but he was so preoccupied with the extraordinary flavours and their delicious depths that he had to ask her to repeat herself. Once his mouth wasn¡¯t full.

    "I asked, what are you doing with yourself? Are you looking for gainful employment or is thievery your preferred profession? Because if it is I can''t say I approve, your mother wouldn''t either," She scolded lightly.

    Fritz winced at the mention of his mother and Colette saw it and said, "Sorry. My mouth runs quicker than my sense sometimes.¡±

    ¡°How well did you know her?¡± Fritz inquired, brushing off the comment. ¡°I know you said she helped you out with a Climb slot but was that all there was to it?¡±

    ¡°I knew her as well as any dressmaker knows her clientele, which is to say we were friends,¡± Colette replied.

    ¡°I was originally from the Sunken Ring and was apprenticed to a seamstress up here. Your mother had what one might call a wardrobe malfunction right in the street as I was walking to work,¡± She said, beginning a tale it seemed she had told on many occasions.

    ¡°Her dress had torn right down the seam in a most scandalous manner so I ran to help, then escorted her quickly and covertly to my Master¡¯s shop where I fixed her dress post haste. She was impressed with my precise stitching and quiet candour. The averted disaster formed something of a bond between us, so she called upon me, that is to say the shop, often. Much to my Master¡¯s delight, as having a noble patron is likely to gather more attention to your designs.¡± Colette explained proudly.

    ¡°From there I was selected as Claire¡¯s, sorry lady Hightide¡¯s personal dress maker and I was in and out of your estate for years. I also made clothes for you children, formal wear for both your mother, and your father, who always had such¡­ exacting standards. Rewarding my dedication and care, your generous mother had me carried up the rest of the Mer Spire so I could reach the tenth level and for that I will be ever grateful,¡± She finished, smiling fondly at the memory.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re level ten?¡± Fritz said surprised.

    ¡°It¡¯s a great boon to have a Path, and almost required to work for the nobility,¡± Colette informed him with pride. ¡°All the close and fine stitch work requires some enhanced Attributes you know, but I¡¯ll let you guess as to which those are.¡±

    ¡°Never met an artisan Pather before,¡± Fritz mused. ¡°What kind of Abilities do you have, do you have a technique?¡± He added rudely. He was about to apologise when Colette smiled sweetly as if it were no grave overreach.

    ¡°Its not all that interesting, as I didn¡¯t do any of the fighting I got most of the generic offerings of the Mer Spire and some that related to my Path and tailoring activities. Deep Lungs, Cold Resistance, Mend Cloth, Remove Stain, Steady Hands, Weavers Touch, Conjure Thread, those and the Awards,¡± She said listing her Powers and shrugging. ¡°Nothing quite as powerful as your dispel and stone shaping abilities,¡± She winked.

    A little disappointed at the mundane nature of Colette¡¯s Abilities and reluctant to share his own Fritz turned back to the subject of his mother, which she indulged at length with a smile.

    After telling a couple of amusing stories about both his parents her demeanour went suddenly imploring and she softly said, ¡°You know, you don¡¯t have to be a thief. You could come work for me, be an apprentice here. With how quickly and precisely you moved catching that tea cup you would make a fine tailor, in time.¡±

    Fritz didn¡¯t dismiss the offer out of hand, it was something many an urchin would dream of, an escape to a trade that provided solid work and even more solid pay. But he knew it was only wishful thinking, there was no way he¡¯d be able to stay so still or be so¡­ meagre. He felt that he needed to become powerful, great and fearsome or he would be hunted, hounded and scared for the rest of his days.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m grateful for the offer but it¡¯s not what I want to do. I¡¯m going to Climb,¡± Fritz promised.

    ¡°Well, can¡¯t blame a lady for trying. And your mother would be proud of you no matter what you did, as long as you''re happy. I believe that''s always what she wanted for you three," She said confidently.

    Sighing Fritz thought on what she said and made sure not to shed any tears from the sweet certainty in her words. He took another biscuit from the proffered tin and bit into it enjoying the taste and the sudden swirl of warm reassurance that stirred within.

    ¡°Would you like to sleep in the guestroom, get some rest before you got to visit little Elliot and tiny Thea?¡± She offered.

    Colette was nice, too nice really, to a thief like Fritz. So he decided not to impune on her hospitality any longer.

    He stood and politely said, ¡°No I must be off, I have much to do. I simply can¡¯t keep sitting around drinking tea and eating shortbread. No matter how much of a delight your company has been. I cannot rely on your good grace in good conscience any longer. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you. For getting me out of trouble, but also for the memories, and kindness you¡¯ve shown me.¡±

    Colette smiled sadly, pity underlying her gentle gaze. And nodded solemnly.

    ¡°I would ask one more favour,¡± Fritz said straightening out his coat and vest.

    ¡°And what favour is that?¡± She hedged, shuffling her shoulders uncertainly.

    ¡°Could I possibly take some of those biscuits to Eli and Thea?¡± He asked.

    She beamed at the request, replaced the biscuit tin¡¯s lid and standing up and walked to where he stood by the door handed it and his eight silvers over to him. Fritz had a mind to refuse the triads but quickly discarded the idea when he saw Colette¡¯s determined smile which brooked no argument. That and he really did need the coin.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let them get soggy, or stale for that matter,¡± Colette warned gently.

    ¡°I wont,¡± Fritz replied, securing the tin under his vest and returning his triads to an inner pocket of his coat.

    ¡°And don¡¯t be a stranger, come back any time. Though preferably not so late as this,¡± She said.

    ¡°I will,¡± He promised.

    ¡°Goodbye Francis, it was good to see you,¡± Colette said embracing him in a warm hug which he returned awkwardly.

    ¡°Bye. And thanks again,¡± He said gratefully.

    The hug broke, Fritz turned and stepped down the stairs, his feet, heart and shoulders feeling lighter than they had been in years. He searched for Quicksilver and upon not seeing his sword he felt a dread sink into his gut. Did the drizzlers steal it?

    Fritz was about to yell in frustration when Colette bustled down the stairs holding a long package wrapped in up in linen like one would wrap a wound with bandages.

    ¡°I almost forgot, here¡¯s your sword,¡± She said, pressing the covered blade into his hand. ¡°It¡¯s very sharp, I¡¯d get a hilt and a scabbard on that thing post haste if I were you. In fact I have a friend down in the steam district who can do it for you. Ask for Bruce in the Anchorwrought Smithy. Tell him I sent you. I trust you wont have forgotten my name again by then,¡± Colette said mischievously.

    He nodded and said his thanks again pulled his bundled sword close.

    With that he stepped out into Rain City as its peoples and animals began to wake, the quacks and calls of the morning ducks and birds reaching his ears, signalling the coming of the dawn.

    For once in a long time Fritz felt truly hopeful.

    He wished it would last.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 6

    Now that the birds were waking, quacking and chirping their songs in concert with the pattering rain Fritz knew that people would also be getting up and getting prepared for the day''s toil.

    It was something of an odd feeling to join the stream of early morning labourers as they walked or carried things to their places of employment. Though he wasn''t truly joining them, most gave him a wide berth as he strode under the cover of the awnings. He was wondering why for some moments until a man in tough labourer''s clothes bowed his head and mumbled, "Good mornin¡¯, Lord," as Fritz strode past.

    It was apparent then that even though he had a puffy, bruised cheek and was carrying the strange package that was Quicksilver he must''ve looked quite like a noble in his new, well-tailored clothes. Instead of scowling at the deference he decided to be gracious and let the common folk regard him well. It was a damn sight better than the frowns, glares and outright disgust he used to receive when traversing the Upper Ring adorned in the rags he could barely call clothing.

    Embracing his new appearance and the respect people gave him, he was able to make his way unhindered and unassailed by the storm guard even when carrying the long suspicious bundle containing Quicksilver.

    It took another hour of walking toward the looming, grey Rain Spire, a towering shadow against the cloudy sky, before he was in the Climber section. The normal stores and well-kept houses were replaced by the many Climbing equipment, Alchemist, Treasure, Armour and weapon merchants that lined the thoroughfare.

    He watched as the city woke in truth and the stores began to open for business. He saw the Climber teams waiting outside bustling into and out of businesses, buying their needed gear to start Climbing as early as possible, though not without a little bit of good-natured, hurried haggling.

    Fritz didn''t linger, passing by the teams and stores. He passed by the ever-busy Ceph outpost as the disparate, desperate or foreign Climbers congregated by its tall stone signpost and in its rough, raucous common room. He gave the sign, a tall, grey obelisk really, a brief glance and read the words carved upon it even though he already knew what it said. "Climbers, Explorers and Protectors for Hire."

    Another fifteen minutes of navigating the crowds he found himself before the open, waist-height iron gate and stone walls of his former orphanage. He thought he could see a little rust forming in the crevices of the small gate, he hoped it wasn''t some omen and brushed it off as the obvious work of a slacker, something he was accused of many times himself. On the left side of the gate''s stone frame was a polished brass placard that stated: Guild Hall for the Fallen''s Fledglings in blocky silver inlaid letters.

    He strode through the gate and to the heavy doors of the orphanage as if he had every right to be there then knocked upon the heavy dark wooden door of the main building. It opened quickly and with a soft creak and standing before him was a guard. He was not one of the storm or scale guard, missing their distinctive armours but one that was contracted by the Guides Guild to watch out for any trouble or makers of said trouble. Fritz recognised the old man as the guard that had been around at his time in the orphanage with the same unkempt half-plate armour and disregard for decorum as he had always displayed. It was reassuring in a way to see that not everything changes.

    Frank, looked Fritz up and down with a frown, then recognition entered his brown eyes and he scowled. His grim expression further deepening the lines on his well-worn face.

    "Fritz, I thought you were dead," Frank said without heat. "Survived exile then?"

    "That all you have to say? I took your advice after all," Fritz said letting some resentment slip into his tone.

    "Never said anything about leaving a mess, or a witness," Frank grumbled.

    "Are you saying I should''ve killed them?" Fritz nearly hissed.

    "I said nothing of the sort," Frank said belying his statement by nodding his head.

    Fritz scoffed, what kind of man tells a kid to ''take matters into his own hands'' and then scolds him for not killing?

    "Still, you''ve done well for yourself if the fancy coat is anything to go by," Frank said interrupting Fritz''s thoughts. "Take it you want to see Eli and Thea?"

    "That''s right," Fritz agreed.

    "Might have to warn them first. Don''t want them to think you''re here to haunt them," Frank suggested.

    "They know I''m alive," Fritz said offhandedly.

    "Oh, been sneaking in to see them then," Franks said mildly as if he suspected as much all along. "I just thought they had a pet rat they were hiding. Wouldn''t be the first orphans to do so, though I did think naming it Francis was a little macabre."

    Fritz narrowed his eyes at the man and saw his thin lips tremble at the corner as if suppressing a smile.

    "You knew," Fritz stated.

    "I know nothing," Frank replied.

    "Apart from, apparently, the word macabre," Fritz said.

    "Some of us read, Fritz, wouldn''t hurt you none either," Frank advised.

    "Well instead of reading maybe you should be doing your job? Maybe actually protecting the kids?" Fritz said finally getting a reaction in the form of a furious glare.

    I looked like Frank wanted to hit him and Fritz glared back. Daring him to do so. He could see the man''s roiling anger like a heat haze but noticed that very little was directed at him, but rather aimed inward at Frank himself. Still, they continued to glare at each other until Frank glanced away.

    "I''ll go get Jess. She can take you to your siblings," Frank said in a clipped tone, marching off to a side room and then speaking to someone within while closing the door behind him.

    Fritz was somewhat surprised he could still hear the spoken words clearly through the barrier, but it made sense, his Perception was one of his highest Attributes.

    "Fritz wants to see his siblings," Frank said his voice growling out from past the door.

    "Fritz?" A distinctly feminine voice asked distractedly as a quill scratched on paper.

    "Francis," Franks clarified.

    "Francis who?" the woman''s voice rang out with something like hope and dread, the sounds of the quill stopped dead.

    "''Dead'' Francis," Frank stated glumly.

    "A ghost?" the woman asked with a slight tremble.

    "Alive and well-to-do," Frank said.

    There was the squeal of a chair being scraped across the floor, and the pattering of light shoes. The door cracked open, revealing half a pretty face and a deep brown, almost black eye as it peeked out between the door and the frame.

    Fritz gave the woman a wink from where he stood in the entrance hall and the door snapped closed with a squeaky curse.

    "Oh gods," He heard her say. "Go stall him. I need to make sure I look presentable, I have to get this ink off my hands."

    "You look fine. The ink stains just make you look...studious," Frank reassured her with tones approaching fondness. "Anyways he''s here to see Eli and Thea, not you."

    "Go. Stall. Him. I''ll be along in a minute," She said sternly.

    "As you say," Frank said sighing.

    The door opened and Frank walked out and marched back up to Fritz, who leant on the stone wall staring off into space while he listened.

    "Jess''ll be out in a minute," Frank stated. "She''s got to finish up a ledger."

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    "Doing the ledgers now is she?" Fritz asked offhandedly. "A step up from being a childminder."

    "Yup, she also teaches some of the mathematics and history classes now," Frank supplied.

    "Huh, time flies," Fritz said.

    "You have no idea," Frank replied.

    Falling into stubborn silence they waited for about three minutes until the door opened and a woman in a simple, long white dress with a deep blue apron over the top came walking up to them. She had her auburn hair done up in a long braid that ran down to the small of her back and her dark eyes took him in with an appraising look.

    She looked similar to when he had known her before when she had introduced and got him used to the orphanage all those years ago. But she was changed. Gone were her spectacles, though he suspected she had merely taken them off for the moment as she had those distinct indents on her slightly freckled, pretty nose. More apparent to Fritz''s attentions were the remarkable changes to her build. She had been thin, bony, and short before and although she had retained her small stature she was now no longer so thin and bony.

    No, she had very much grown, especially around her hips and bust, her boniness smoothed over with ample curves.

    Frank coughed and Fritz was shaken out of his surprise.

    As Jess approached Fritz kept his eyes locked to her face and smiled.

    "Ms Jessica, it''s wonderful to meet you again," He said with a polite, if a little flirtatious, bow. "I must say that you''ve only grown more beautiful since the last time we met."

    Frank scoffed as Jess beamed and returned the bow with a shallow, quick curtsy.

    "Thank you, Francis. I see you''ve grown as well, you used to be as short as me and now look at you!" She exclaimed, stepping closer and staring up into his face. Then she gasped as she saw his cut and bruised cheek.

    "What happened?" She asked.

    "Oh, just a small tussle with a Spire monster," Fritz boasted. "A terrible Hound in fact. I felled it in the end though, don''t you worry."

    Frank scoffed even louder and interrupted Fritz before he could plunge into a longer rendition of his heroic tale.

    "Do you want to see your siblings or do you want to stand around boasting and flirting with Jess," He grumbled.

    "I can''t do both?" Fritz smirked.

    "We''re not flirting," Jess denied with a deadly glare, then she smiled and slapped Fritz lightly on the arm and ordered, "Come on. Let''s get going, they''ll be ecstatic to see you. Though I will have to warn them first. They probably thought the worst. And you coming back to life might be a¡­ shock."

    "They already know," Fritz said following behind Jess as she strode through the entrance hall and down a hallway to the left.

    "Oh, I see," Jess said with a small huff and glance so pointed it could be a needle. "And why am I just finding out now? Did I not warrant even a letter?"

    "I uh, was told not to bother anyone. They said to just run and hide before the drizzlers or the noble''s men came," Fritz admitted.

    "I suppose that''s a reasonable excuse," Jess said visibly deflating. "But a goodbye would''ve saved me a lot of tears you know."

    Fritz was tempted to feel guilty but couldn''t, he was only doing what was best for himself back then. It was the only path out for someone without power.

    "Wasn''t a lot of paper in the desperate district I''m afraid," Fritz replied. "It likely wasn''t safe either, and maybe still isn''t, but I can handle myself a lot better now."

    "I suppose you could if you really climbed a Spire," Jess said doubtfully, her eyes lingering on his bruised cheek. "It''s been years, would they really still be looking for you?"

    Fritz shrugged, saying, "Maybe not, but it wasn''t worth the risk in my mind."

    They fell into silence as they walked, then Fritz broke it with a question, "How about you? I hear you''re teaching now."

    "I am, that and doing the kitchen''s ledgers," Jess said with a note of pride.

    "I''m glad to hear it, do you have a Path?" He inquired.

    "No," Jess replied.

    "Ah, a Leveler then?" Fritz assumed.

    "I haven''t got around to Climbing," Jess said defensively, shuffling her shoulders awkwardly.

    "No gold triad? Are they paying you that little?" Fritz asked incredulously.

    "No, I have some savings. I just want to do it right and get a Guide too," Jess explained.

    "Why?" Fritz asked baffled.

    "Spires are dangerous, even the minor ones. I just want to be safe," Jess said.

    "What''s a little risk? Just makes the Climb more fun," Fritz said with an irreverent smile.

    Jess turned her deadly glare on him, "My parents and your father were lost in Spires. You should understand the consequences of ''a little risk''."

    "It was a joke," He said through a suddenly stiff jaw.

    "Don''t joke about it, not to me. A small slip up could mean you die, and leave everyone else behind," She said her words coming out harsh and bitter.

    Fritz felt his stomach clench and his hand tightened its grip on his wrapped blade. He wanted to yell that he knew that more than she did, having been through a Spire himself. But he realised quickly that Jess was right about this, that his anger was more at the terrible situation he had survived rather than her.

    He let out a sigh and smiled sadly at her, "You''re right, the Spires are deadly, true as the rain."

    "True as the rain," She repeated in a near whisper.

    Again silence set in but Fritz wouldn''t let it take hold, and he spoke, "Well, I''m no guide and likely won''t be, but if you need some more hands on your first climb me and my friend, Bert, would gladly help. We''re pretty tough and we''ve done it before. It would save you some precious triads you could spend on armour or potions."

    Fritz knew he couldn''t tell her outright that he already had some of the Guide Abilities so he restricted himself to this far less exciting offer.

    Jess looked sceptical, but also a little grateful and shook her head, "I''m not planning to climb any time soon, but thank you."

    "Well, hopefully, I''ll be around more often, tell me if you need some help," Fritz said as they rounded a corner and Jess led him into a sitting room with two couches and a small table.

    The room was lit by the small mana lamps affixed to the walls and a large window set into the stone.

    "Just wait here, I''ll go get Eli and Thea, they should still be in classes but I''m sure they won''t mind the small break," Jess said bustling out of the room without another word.

    Fritz lay his bundled sword on the table then sat and waited, idly feeling at the dark, silky fabric of his coat, looking out the window into a well-kept garden and listening for familiar footsteps.

    It wasn''t long at all when he heard people walking and talking down the outside hall, the achingly familiar voices of his siblings reaching his ears.

    "Where is he?" The excited, high voice of his sister asked.

    "He''s just in one of the interview rooms," Jess replied with obvious warmth.

    "Why is he here? And why does it have to be during combat practise?" Grumbled the lower, still cracking tones of his brother.

    Fritz couldn''t help but smirk, as annoying a little brother was a big brothers imperative.

    "Hush, Eli. Can''t you just be happy he''s not dead? I know you were worried when he missed his visit," Thea said.

    "Was not," Eli protested. "And don''t tell him that."

    The group reached the door and Fritz stood as it swung open.

    They walked in, as proper as any young lady and lord and Fritz got a good look at them, a look not clouded in shadow as was the rule for the dormitories after dark. They were both still in the uniforms the orphanage provided, tan pants and coats over white linen shirts and skirts in both cases.

    Eli had his mother''s dark brown eyes and had inherited his grandfather''s dirty blonde hair, pulled into a short tail.

    Thea however, favoured his and her father, having both his grey-green eyes and dark hair. She had woven her straight sheet of black into a long braid similar to the one Jess wore and he had to admit she had been changing, growing up too. The top of her head would now reach the tip of his chin, it made sense, she would be around fifteen by now, definitely on her fifth toll only a couple more years until she could Climb.

    Though Thea¡¯s height was a small shock he was more surprised by Eli''s growth. Even though he was but sixteen he was now tall and considerably more stocky than Fritz, with an athletic solidness that he could only be envious of. Probably eating much better than I had been, He reasoned resentfully. That and the combat lessons he¡¯s been subjected to.

    However, Fritz gloated inwardly to see he was still at least an inch taller than his younger brother.

    They stood there taking each other in a serious silence surrounding them. Fritz bowed politely and they reciprocated, Eli''s response was short and insolent while Thea beamed impolitely and curtsied deeply, then she charged.

    Fritz splayed his arms wide and braced himself for his sister''s assault.

    "Francis!" She yelled as she slammed into him wrapping her arms around his chest and he pulled her into a tight, warm embrace while she laughed and cried into his shoulder.

    "Amathea!" Fritz said back, matching her excitement.

    "Elliot get over here," Fritz said smiling wide and waving him over with his free arm as he held Thea with his other, "Give your big brother a hug."

    ¡°I¡¯m fine where I am,¡± Eli said stiltedly. Jess glared at him and he met her gaze darkly until he seemingly changed his mind when her brows furrowed sharply.

    "Fine," Eli said as he begrudgingly trudged over the stone floor and joined the hug from Fritz''s other side. He squeezed harder than was strictly necessary but Fritz didn''t care at all. He just returned the pressure with his own, now enhanced, Strength.

    "Ow, ow, ow," Eli complained while squeezing even tighter in revenge.

    Fritz basked in the embrace of his family. Finally, something right, something good. He let them go reluctantly, knowing he had to do so lest he break into a full teary mess.

    "Glad this coat is supremely waterproof or you two would''ve drenched and drowned me," Fritz said smiling.

    Eli rolled his eyes while Thea blew her nose into a delicate handkerchief, even Jess seemed a little teary, looking away and dabbing at the corners of her eyes surreptitiously with the long sleeve of her dress.

    "What''s that?" Eli asked pointing at Fritz''s bundled-up blade.

    "Spire spoils," Fritz said enigmatically. "But before we get into that, biscuits!" He said pulling the tin of shortbread out from under his vest, opening it and placing it on the small table.

    Fritz sat on one of the couches and indicated that his siblings should sit with him. Thea sat right next to Fritz, maybe to stay close to him but more likely to be able to reach the shortbread easier. While Elliot chose to sit across from him only reluctantly taking a biscuit once Fritz rattled the tin in front of him. Thea needed no such encouragement, eating as delicately but also as rapidly as she could politely get away with.

    "These are marvellous, where did you get them?" Thea asked between biscuits.

    "From a friend. Jess come and sit, have one before they''re all gone," Fritz said as he gracefully slid the brass tin out of his sister''s insatiable reach for a moment.

    Jess made to refuse but Fritz gave her his most charming smile, one she was seemingly unable to refuse as her cheeks coloured slightly and she sat by his other side, taking one of the remaining shortbread.

    Once she had taken one, he returned the tin to the centre so his sister could tactfully ravage its contents.

    "You were saying something about spire spoils? Is that why you feel stronger than you look?" Eli asked, his eagerness apparent under his uncaring facade.

    "What do you mean by ''stronger than I look''? Big brothers are always stronger than their younger siblings, you should know that," Fritz said with an adequately insufferable smirk. "As for spoils, behold Quicksilver! My gallant, loyal blade!" He proclaimed as he unwrapped his sword.

    Eli looked over its jagged black edges and asked, "About the right size for a rapier, can I hold it?"

    "Not directly, it doesn''t have a hilt yet and it''s very sharp. I would know," Fritz warned showing off his still-healing palm."But if you don''t grab it by the edge you could try."

    Eli picked Quicksilver up tentatively by the flat of the blade, his whole attention on the tooth-like, razor edge and Jess pointed out the obvious, "It''s not silver."

    "Yes, I''ve been hearing that a lot," Fritz said offhandedly.

    "You really did go into a Spire then?" Thea asked once the tin was empty and she could risk talking without crumbs spraying out her mouth.

    "I did, The Mer Spire," Fritz said.

    "Wow," Thea said smiling with excitement. "What was it like?"

    Dusksong swirled, shifted and chimed in his centre as Fritz intoned.

    "It''s torture on body and torment in mind,

    the truest of trials that one dreads to find,

    A hard test of mettle, A sure test of skill,

    it refines and reforges, and tempers the will."

    Thea and Jess were enraptured from the very first verse while Eli looked at him somewhat sceptically but his bearing became begrudgingly believing as Fritz''s resonant voice rolled over him.

    Fritz recounted his tale.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 7

    All told, telling the tale of his Climb only took Fritz around fifteen minutes.

    His audience of Thea and Jess responded just as he hoped with gasps, laughs and cheers as he told of his fights, friends and victories. Even Eli who started off stubbornly sceptical eventually became enthralled by his story and was staring intently at him with equal measures of awe and incredulity as Fritz described his heroic stand against the Hound.

    In an act of staggering modesty, he only added in a few favourable flourishes, engaging embellishments and outright lies about his valiant and vital role as a fearless, peerless captain and deadly, daring duellist.

    Fritz, however, also avoided telling them of any of his Sense Abilities or anything about the Sunken Spire itself. He skipped over the trap floors and most of the worst fights while fabricating an ordeal with a monster swordfish from which he acquired Quicksilver. Much to his chagrin he also had to keep secret his meeting with the Duskmoth and faerie-kind in general, even though he knew it would delight his sister immensely as she loved faerie tales almost as much as he did.

    "I had spiked the vile beast with Quicksilver, I had triumphed, but it was no comfort as I felt my end coming. Beaten and broken I lay there. Dying," Fritz said darkly and Thea cupped her hands over her mouth to stifle a sudden intake of breath.

    Fritz tried not to smile, and continued "As the world went black my trusty companions, Sid and Bert, carried my unconscious form up the stairway. Up and away, to the Well to heal my wounds. I awoke, mended and whole and all rejoiced. Then upon selecting our Paths and Traits, and not willing to push our luck further, we left the third floor, victorious," Fritz finished with a grin.

    Thea applauded excitedly, smiling wide and Eli nodded as if he only believed half of his story, while Jess merely ruffled Fritz''s dark hair and said, "That was a tale almost as tall as you, is your Path one of a storyteller?"

    "More like a Liar," Eli supplied smirking.

    "I resent these accusations!" Fritz proclaimed in mock offence, noting that a Spy was awful close to both. "Where did Quicksilver come from then, if not from a monster swordfish?"

    "Bought it from some climbers?" Eli stated. "Or you stole it."

    "Both reasonable assumptions," Fritz allowed amiably while getting up off the couch and striding in front of the window. "But, Behold!"

    Grasping his Dusksong, and finding it wasn''t yet restored enough for the whole spell he drew the rest of the energy needed from his Stamina, his shoulders sagging somewhat from the drain.

    Once he had the shifting power in hand he shaped a sheet of shadow between him and his audience.

    Thea gasped as did Jess, and Eli stood suddenly in surprise, thumping his leg on the small table causing the biscuit tin to rattle. Fritz quickly, quietly darted to a shadowed corner and felt Cloak of Dusk''s cool embrace in the low light.

    He waited and watched as Thea waved her hand through the grimy sheet that must''ve looked pitch black to her eyes. Eli made to pull her arm out of the darkness and warn her against touching the unknown magic but upon seeing it was harmless he merely looked at the Illusory Shadow speculatively.

    "It''s a¡­ wall of shadow?" Thea theorised.

    "Seems so," Jess agreed.

    Eli strode up to and put his head through the thin sheet. Obliviously expecting to see Fritz on the other side and finding no one he frowned and searched the room, his eyes sliding right over the corner Fritz stood in.

    It took a lot of control not to burst out laughing at Eli''s scrunched features and confused glances. However funny hiding from the guard had been this was much, much more amusing to Fritz.

    "He''s gone," Eli said as the sheet dissipated.

    It was now the ladies'' chance to look confused and in Jess''s case a little worried.

    "Where''d he go?" Thea asked with wide eyes.

    "Disappeared? Invisible?" Jess asked in turn.

    "Hiding, and probably going to-" Eli began before Fritz surreptitiously pulled out a copper triad from his pouch and tossed it so it struck the tin and ricocheted inside with a plink and clang.

    They jumped a little from the surprise as the sudden noise interrupted Eli''s too-canny warning.

    Fritz silently slunk up and behind Thea and Jess as they stared at the newly appeared triad, then he sat back on the couch, right where he had been sitting before his demonstration of Illusory Shadow.

    "What do you mean hiding? I''m right here," Fritz proclaimed.

    They jumped. Thea screamed and Jess squeaked while Eli let out a high cracking yell. They spun on where they heard the voice, to find Fritz lounging and grinning from ear to ear.

    "Bastard!" Eli burst out.

    "Arsehole!" Jess shouted.

    "Not funny Fritz!" Thea shrieked.

    Fritz just laughed uproariously as they told him off, he wished Bert and Sid were here to see their shocked faces, they were priceless.

    Once the uproar had died down and they were done telling him in no uncertain terms that he was an idiot, a fool and had less sense than a skulg, Eli eventually, begrudgingly asked, "So you really climbed a Spire?"

    "That''s what I''ve been telling you, haven''t you all been listening?" Fritz said, as if offended but knowing full well that he wouldn''t believe him either.

    "Well.. you know," Eli said, scratching the back of his neck and looking to Thea and Jess awkwardly.

    "I believed," Thea admitted adamantly.

    "I''m convinced," Jess hedged.

    "Good, now that we''re all sure that I''m the mighty hero I say I am, we can get back to what''s important. How are all of you holding up, no problems? No cruel and capricious instructors?" Fritz said with a teasing glance at Jess, who scoffed at the implication.

    "No, nothing like that, and Jess is a wonderful teacher," Thea said frowning at Fritz. "Apart from you missing your visit, things have been normal."

    "Thea''s being modest, she does well in most academic pursuits and has been noted as a particularly swift study and sprinter," Jess said, as Thea glowed from the praise.

    Fritz nodded happily, saying, "That''s great Thea, I''m proud of you."

    He then turned an expectant stare onto Eli.

    "I''ve been offered extended lessons in combat and fencing," Eli said, his grumpy tone bubbling with barely suppressed pride.

    "That''s marvellous!" Fritz exclaimed. "We''ll have to have a bout one of these days. I''ll show you a thing or two." The comment elicited an eye roll from Eli but he didn¡¯t object.

    With that they began chatting about their schedules and classes, relaxing into gossip about instructors he used to know and some he didn''t. It was fun, cosy and surprisingly easy to talk to the three of them, but something tingled in the back of his mind. It was no Sense ability or Attribute warning him but a feeling that he had to keep moving, that he needed to prepare for his next climb. And that meant securing his and Bert''s Treasures and wealth as soon as possible.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Something kept urging him to go but he ignored it for the moment, determined to spend some time with family and friends. After all, he didn''t know when he''d see them again and he knew he would regret it keenly if he cut their time short.

    For an hour they talked until Thea said, "You look distracted, is something bothering you?"

    "No¡­ well, yes," Fritz admitted. "I have some things I have to take care of, and it''s going to be a little difficult."

    "By difficult do you mean dangerous," Jess asked disapprovingly, a frown creasing her brow.

    Fritz smiled. "Of course not," He lied. "Just a small job to get some gold, I have to save up for my sibling''s climbs you know."

    Jess looked like she wanted to argue but seemingly she saw something in his eyes that quieted her complaints. So instead she said, "Just be careful."

    "Yeah, be careful," Thea agreed glaring at him.

    Eli was silent but Fritz could read him well enough to know that he agreed with the sentiment too.

    "Well it''s time for me to head, out and I''m sure you all have classes or other things to do," Fritz said standing quickly as his eyes began to blur. He sniffed. And wiped away any tears before they could form. Thea stood and hugged him from the side and Jess lay a hand on his arm.

    "Come back soon," Thea said seriously.

    "You''re welcome to visit anytime," Jess added.

    Fritz nodded a smile at Jess and squeezed Thea tight for a moment, then once she had let go and stepped away he offered his hand for Eli to shake, which he did with a firm, calloused grip.

    Must be working hard. We all are in our own ways, Fritz thought idly as they said another round of goodbyes and he eventually left the room, then the hall, then the orphanage.

    He stepped into the rain with a smile on his face, a certain calmness in his chest right next to the empty tin under his vest and Quicksilver wrapped again, held loosely against his shoulder.

    With a lightness to his steps and a flighty song in his heart he planned his next steps and what he''d need to achieve them, first he needed a place to hideout and rest for a bit, then he needed a secret place to transfer his treasures. The first was simple, he''d return to his previous lair in the loft of the abandoned herbalist''s shop and see what remained of his meagre possessions.

    The second was a more difficult ask, as he couldn''t safely use any of his or Bert''s previous hideouts. He decided he''d have to go exploring, which could be fun in and of itself when the mood hit him. Which he supposed it might, once he got some rest.

    As he walked he suddenly stopped before a shop that seemed to sell various pieces of useful equipment, such as packs, bedrolls, metal canteens and all kinds of other survival gear. A bedroll, or perhaps just a pillow, wouldn¡¯t go amiss at the moment but what he was more interested in was a grappling hook that would suit his current scheme.

    He was in and out within a minute, haggling the owner down and handing three of his precious silvers and a handful of coppers for a durable, wool-stuffed pillow and a sturdy grappling hook. Tucking them under his other arm he made his way out of the store.

    Fritz knew he¡¯d probably been fleeced at least a silver triad due to his rich appearance, but he was too drained, both physically and emotionally, to really care.

    He yawned as he made his way out of the busy and bustling thoroughfare packed with carriages and people. Glancing idly as rain slipped around many of the carriages like they were protected by an invisible glass dome. He knew it to be rainshielding, either from the drivers or runic enchantments, it was a common enough Ability but highly valued to those not of the Merfolk.

    No one but them liked to be wet all the time. Even if most coats, hats and shoes were some variation of waterproof, dryness came at a premium in Rain City.

    He strode away and into the streets, heading for a gate that led into the desperate district. Again he was surprised that the guards only stopped him to warn him of danger, as there had apparently been some dead bodies found in the streets and alleys recently.

    "S''not safe, but we won''t bar you, Sir," The drizzler said as Fritz strode past the man.

    Fritz scoffed inwardly at the warning, of course, and went on his merry way. People were murdered, mugged and mangled every day in the desperate district he knew that well enough. He''d survived there for a whole eight years, there''s no way he couldn''t be aware of the dangers.

    He pressed on, passing by the beggars and glaring gangs where they congregated in the sparsely peopled streets and dark, deserted alleys. Using his Cloak of Dusk he easily slipped past the toughs and thugs who would normally go out of their way to menace and mug him, quickly finding his way to his old lair. He went in through the empty door frame of the storefront and spotted the door itself rocking on the ripples of the slightly flooded room like some abandoned raft.

    Bastards knocked it off its hinges when they kidnapped me, Fritz thought annoyed.

    Unfortunately, that wasn''t the last of the damages done to his abode, it seemed someone had rooted through his things and stolen what little they could use or sell, including his books. His precious only slightly soaked books. He cursed them silently and when that didn''t make him feel better he prayed insincerely.

    ¡°Oh, wise Ton¡¯var, brilliant lord of knowledge and discovery, I beg of you to smite those book burglarising blasphemers.¡±

    Sighing he climbed up into the creaking rafters and found his hidden sack of rough, commoners clothes. Fritz jumped down and began to change out of his fancy garments and into something more adequate for his needs. A rough grey linen shirt and black trousers. Again he sighed, annoyed he''d already had to get out of the far nicer, softer outfit, but he couldn''t go exploring in such delicate fabrics. He didn''t want to tear them to pieces after all.

    Stashing the sack away again Fritz debated taking a nap, the night and consequent morning had been rather draining so he decided to take a small rest. He lay in his mostly undisturbed nest of rags, set down his new pillow, lay his head upon it and was asleep instantly.

    Even with the luxury of a real pillow, he fitfully tossed and turned as his dreams cascaded into nightmares.

    Fritz woke, and it was the normal way to wake, which is to say it was bad. He took some time to get his bearings. In his waking daze he was scared he was still a leveless urchin but as his memories rushed through his bleariness he exhaled a breath, relaxed his tense shoulders and rubbed a knot out of his aching back.

    He looked out a rotted hole in the loft''s wall to gauge the time and was dismayed that it was dusk or approaching it, he''d overslept and now he''d have to put off his exploration. It would be too dark to see anything.

    Idiot you have Night Vision and Perception, he reminded himself.

    Fritz slapped himself on the forehead and rattled his still-dazed mind into full alertness. He smiled, shaking his head at his prior foolishness he stood and checked his surroundings. There was nothing amiss so he set out, jumping down into the slightly flooded room below. He landed with a much heavier splash and thud than he expected. It was somewhat jarring but it wasn''t painful, just unexpected.

    I really have to get used to these moonsilvered bones, Fritz told himself.

    He left through the front door then headed towards the ruins of the drowned district, strolling and letting out a jovial whistle as if he had not a care in the world.

    Fritz had left his new grappling hook and Quicksilver behind, hidden in his bed of rags which he reflected was definitely the right idea as he found himself needing both hands free to scrabble onto the roofs of flooded buildings. However, the exploration was not nearly as difficult as he expected it to be, his Grace and Agility letting him pull off some acrobatic and athletic feats he would have never been capable of before.

    He was always adroit in such things but even he had to be surprised when he was able to run down a thick wooden pole, without a wobble or a slip as if he were an expert tightrope walker.

    He exalted in his Attributes and started pressing his luck and his capabilities more as he got deeper into the district. Fritz turned the slick slanted roofs and their deceitful, decrepit rafters into something of a ramshackle obstacle course and made a note to use it as training when he had more time to spare.

    As soon as he was about twenty minutes into the district he started to push on his Door Sense and Awareness. Looking for somewhere to hide their Treasures, once they got them back.

    To his delight, he detected many doors both beneath the water and above it and could get a sense of their condition and make. He limited his search to dryer areas and sturdier doors until he sensed something peculiar in a large, three-story manor.

    The tall structure was made mostly of grey stone and had been obviously built to last, to endure as long as its family''s blood remained, but its lower floor was completely below the gentle waves, and the second floor was ankle-deep in murky water. The finery and furniture were long gone and while the floorboards were a rotted, patchwork mess, the stone walls and foundations stood strong even if they were covered in the wretched skulg.

    Fritz climbed in through the roof and gingerly slunk down a groaning stairway, then sloshed through the second-floor hallways to find what had felt with his Door Sense. He soon came upon the room, or rather the door that had piqued his interest.

    Being careful not to step through a hole in the wood Fritz entered the empty room and looked around. Finding nothing with his eyes but a faint impression pulling him to the sturdy stone wall to his left. He trudged to it carefully, running his fingers over and tapping on the wet bricks until he felt a change. He was lucky and heard a distinct hollowness in the sound of his taps on the fourth brick from the left corner.

    Cheering inwardly and grinning, he pried the stone free and found a metal ring underneath, one suspiciously like the handle of a trap door. He slid his fingers through it and pulled. It was stuck fast. He pulled again this time with all his weight and strength. There was a creaking and a scraping, then with a loud crack the wall came loose and Fritz fell on his backside onto the water.

    He cursed but then laughed as he saw a section of stone brick open outwards as if it were on hinges, which he supposed it was. Behind it was just what he''d been looking for, nay hoping for. Fritz grinned ear to ear and ran his hand over the wheel of a large, rectangular, black-iron safe.

    He looked it over eagerly, it was a little rusty on the outside and the key was obviously absent, long gone like the manor''s owners. His fingers ran over the cold metal then he pulled his hand back rapidly. Cautiously, Fritz searched for wards, reprimanding himself for touching the safe before he looked. He found some, however, they were dull, old and marred with rust. Probably drained of all mana over the decades, maybe centuries, it had been hidden here.

    The last test was to see if its mechanisms still worked, hopefully they weren''t corroded or consumed by rust. Fritz found it was an annoyingly difficult lock to pick, complex and tricky, but also sluggish and sticky due to its age and disrepair. Without his Grace and Agility he didn''t know if he could have possibly picked it, but eventually, he did, his two small metal bones clicking the last tumbler into place and causing the safe to thunk almost imperceptibly behind the iron door.

    With bated breath he turned the stiff wheel, rust flaked off as he pushed, and with a snap it moved smoothly until it clanked and the safe''s door swung open. Just as Fritz suspected, the safe was empty, cleared out when this place was abandoned. It was also surprisingly spacious, Fritz thought he could probably lie within and fit in his whole body if he pulled his feet in a little.

    He shuddered, as he thought about being locked in the safe and trapped by the dark walls of iron.

    Shaking his head free of the terrifying image, he smiled wide. This was just what they needed. He quickly shut both the safe and the concealing stone brick hatch. He dusted the rust off his hands as it made his skin feel itchy, he then washed them in the water for good measure as the smell was far too pungent for his liking.

    Step one, complete. Onto step two. Equipment.

    Climbing back to the roof was easy work and Fritz noted the landmarks of the ''safe house''. In the distance, he could see the steady stream of clouds from the aptly named steam district and made a mental note to get Quicksilver a hilt when he could spare the time and triads.

    He made his way back to the desperate district then back to his hideout, he would have to wait for dawn for the rest of his acquisitions, but felt he had made good progress. It did irk him a little that he was out here doing all this work while Bert was out celebrating and having fun, but he reasoned he would be too distracted by his plans to unwind anyway. He could relax and go wild once their Treasure was secure.

    He wondered what Sid was doing. Probably something heroic, he mused. Then his thoughts turned to others like Naomi, Veronica, Lynn, Toby and Jane. His mood soured somewhat when he thought of the last two but he tried not to begrudge their abandonment too much, they were only looking out for each other. Who''s to say him and Bert wouldn''t have done the same thing?

    We wouldn''t have, Fritz told himself but he didn''t exactly know if it was true.

    Itching to act but forced to wait, he then recalled his meeting with his siblings and smiled. Jess was also something of a surprise, a pleasant one to be sure. He wondered if he could convince her to Climb with him or maybe do something more... romantic.

    He stifled those thoughts quickly, not because it made him feel a little guilty, but more because those sorts of things were distractions he couldn''t afford at the moment. When will I be able to afford and enjoy a little distraction or two? He grumbled silently.

    He dozed off in his bed of rags and in no time the bubbling, gurgling and popping shrieks of the skulg stirred him to unpleasant wakefulness.

    Dawn had come and he made his way towards the docks.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 8

    After an hour of trudging through the light rain, Fritz reached the seawall gates and wound his way around the fishers and labourers who were shuffling to their boats or work like a slow tide.

    Standing in the open-sided wooden guard house the storm guard kept the processions moving at a brisk pace, threatening to drag out the slow or anyone who obstructed the road for too long. Doing their duty they also guarded a large wooden box which had a plaque that read "Toll One Copper Triad". With glowers and glares, they made sure that the crowd gave up their copper, directing them to place the toll into a slot on the box''s lid before they passed under the tall gate.

    Keeping in the shadow of a particularly large labourer, Fritz dodged the toll entirely and finally got past the press of people and through the gate into the harsh breeze and salty sea air.

    The ground of the docks was of the same ancient stone as the gate and jutted out another hundred feet past the sea wall. Fritz knew they were of the same construction, built thousands of years ago and now infested with many wooden piers and wharfs that had been scaffolded and stacked upon those solid foundations. They had to be as the terrible sea and eternal rain would wash away anything but that dull stone in time.

    The outlying circle of wet wood formed a sprawling harbour that ringed the entire island city and it was where the majority of the city''s food was caught and carted in from. It was also the hub of trade with the outside world and the mainland¡¯s Empire. Though why anyone would want to come to Rain City Fritz didn''t know. In the grand scheme of things it was a backwater, in more ways than one, with only a Lesser and a Minor Spire to boast of.

    Hundreds of vessels both large and small, but mostly small, rocked gently on the waves and pulled on the ropes and anchors that held them. Masts stood tall and rain drummed on the sails as sailors yelled and hauled on rope.

    Ignoring the sights and sounds of the boats and their dealings or departures, Fritz pressed on. He especially paid no attention to the brightly painted Jastil merchant''s galleon. Its yellow sails, gold railings and red flags were a marvellous sight to be sure, but he had no time to spare appreciating their extravagances. And less than no time to be listening to the equally extravagantly dressed and styled man extolling the rare wares and ''generous'' prices within.

    Begrudgingly, Fritz sought out the rope hawkers with the sturdiest rope and the dingiest bait shops for something specific.

    The rope was easy and relatively cheap for what he was getting, but he needed a lot and it was thick heavy stuff meant for a ship''s sails and one for anchors. So all in all it cost him three silver triads.

    After struggling and lugging around the rope for a couple of minutes he finally conceded defeat and searched for a better way to transport his burdens.

    If only I had more Strength, he groused, pushing the handcart in front of him. Though that might just make me more conspicuous, he rationalised.

    Fritz ended up having to rent a handcart from a local dock labouring guild to get it anywhere in a hurry.

    They attempted to gouge him, of course, as he had no agreement or contract to work for the Harbourman''s Guild, but he grinned and bore it. Until, annoyed at all the additional fees they piled on, he spun a tale about having to move his master''s luggage quickly and how it was ''no skin off his nose'' as it was ''his lord''s silver,'' after all.

    That soured their faces and reduced the ''fees'' considerably, no one wanted to offend a foreign lord, he might be a powerful Climber or have friends in high places.

    Once he had all his rope securely in place and slipped the waterproof cover over the top of his cargo he left at a jog, the wheels of the cart grinding on the stone bricks. It was still fairly heavy and somewhat cumbersome but it was nothing compared to his struggles without it so he made his way to his next procurement.

    -

    Placing his new lidded bucket with everything else he needed, he secured the cover again and made his way towards the gates, intent on getting back into the city and back to Bert. This time, however, when he finally reached the gates he had to pay the toll thrice, once for himself and twice for the cart.

    "This is daylight robbery," Fritz grumbled slotting three copper triads into the toll box.

    "Yeah, yeah. Take it up with the king," the drizzler said as if he''d heard all the complaints and curses before. Which he likely had.

    There seemed to be something of a commotion as over the heads of the crowd were calls of, "Make way! Stand Aside! King''s business!"

    A squad of twelve guards, the Scale Guard much to Fritz''s shock, marched through the quickly parting crowd.

    "Maybe I will. Think they''ll take the king a letter for me?" Fritz asked insincerely as he hurriedly wheeled his cart out of the way of the oncoming men.

    The guard simply scowled and said "It''s your head," while a bystander hissed, "Shut up."

    The squad of Scale Guard strode forward, resplendent in their jade scale armour, with shields, helms and spears of what looked like burnished gold. They encircled and protected their obviously important charge. Each had a personal weapon looped or sheathed at their sides that were not uniform as their spears were and bore little resemblance to each other.

    One of the weapons was a sabre with a glittering multifaceted diamond hilt, sheathed in black scales; another was bearded axe that seemed to be grown of some kind of pale blue shell or coral; there was also a dagger of grey-white marble; and many more odd blades and brutal bludgeons besides.

    Just from a glance, Fritz knew them all to be potent Treasures with deadly, destructive magics.

    In the centre of the Scale Guard''s circle was an exquisitely dressed noblewoman. But more exquisite than the dress was the young woman herself. She had a long sheet of raven black hair, almost as dark as the Hound''s void-like pelt and eyes of startling, cold silver. Her velvet dress was the deep blue of sapphires and revealed white-as-snow shoulders that curved into an elegant neck draped with a necklace of platinum and teardrop rubies that were matched with earrings of the same design.

    While the glimmering of the jewellery initially caught Fritz''s avaricious eye his attention was quickly captured by her skin, dusted as it was with ridges of subtle pale scales that scintillated in faint rainbow hues. She wore no coat and was shaded by no umbrella, the rain did not stain or soak her dress or seemingly bother her at all. She was beautiful, breathtaking and Fritz could only stare, glancing down the faint lines of gills proclaiming her as one of the merfolk.

    The noblewoman was flanked by two pretty women of her same age, presumably her attendants, dressed finely in blues that were complimentary to their Lady''s own. But Fritz barely paid them any heed as the noblewoman passed by, entranced as he was by some ineffable call.

    "Stand back and eye''s down, scum," Someone close to him growled in warning.

    Fritz turned his attention to the speaker and stopped his retaliatory rude remark dead. The man speaking was taller, broader, stronger than Fritz and holding out a scale-gauntleted hand that matched the green jade of the rest of his armour.

    Fritz realised he had been slowly taking steps towards the noblewoman and had, in a daze, distractedly walked right into the man''s outstretched palm, bumping off it with a light thud that he hadn''t noticed in the mesmerising moment.

    He was surprised and glad he only got a warning when he looked into the man''s hard gaze. He knew that this man would''ve spitted him with the spear currently resting on his shoulder in an instant if Fritz had looked anything like a threat. In that moment he was supremely thankful he left all his weapons behind and looked more like a thin beggar than a muscled thug like Bert.

    Fritz coughed and quickly stepped back from the Scale Guard, apologising in suitably obsequious tones, "Sorry sir," He repeated as he backed into the crowd and to his cart. The armed procession continued on unchallenged, parting the crowd like an axe splitting a log.

    The drizzler beside Fritz let out a huff, then frowned and ordered, "Get a move on before we fine you for loitering."

    "Of course," Fritz said through gritted teeth as he pushed his lumbering cart forward and into the desperate district, heading somewhat to the left, towards Tallies Trawler.

    It took him the better part of two hours to come by the tavern as he couldn''t take many of the shortcuts he knew with the unwieldy cart, but at least he remained mostly unaccosted.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    When he had been inevitably challenged, threatened and finally grabbed by one of the gangs¡¯ thugs he merely kicked the offender in the knee with a sweeping Gloom Strike. Then as the fool fell Fritz gripped the man''s collar and pitched him head first into the cobblestone street. His face met the stone hard with a cracking of bone then the thug lay still.

    Fritz knew he hadn''t killed the man, as the whistle of breath could still be heard bubbling from his lips. The once aggressive gang looked on in fear and Fritz didn''t have much trouble after that. He even had a volunteer to push his cart for him.

    Fritz mused that it was startling what a little violence could get you if you used it precisely. He smirked to cover the troubling feeling that he was already abusing his power as he strode alongside his newest, if temporary, recruit.

    "Set it just over here, Carter," Fritz jovially ordered, directing him to stop beside Tallies Trawler.

    "Me name''s not, Carter," groused Carter as he swept a drenched lock of curly dark hair out of his eyes.

    "I don''t care. Now take this and piss off," Fritz said flicking a silver triad to the large framed but gangly young man.

    The idiot caught it, then stared in surprise at the huge sum in his palm. He looked up and back to Fritz''s face smiling imploringly while saying, "Of course, Sir¡­. If you need anything else I''m happy to help."

    Carter didn''t seem like the bad sort but Fritz knew that glint in his dark blue eyes for what it was, greed. And what he didn''t need right now was another greedy bastard screwing up his schemes.

    He already had two too many of them. Them being himself and Bert.

    "What part of ¡®piss off¡¯ don''t you understand?" Fritz said blandly. "Go away," he added, shooing the man with a wave of his hand.

    "Yes, sir. Thanks for the triad," Carter said, scurrying away and retreating into an alley.

    Fritz watched him go and sighed, then he strode up and into the tavern.

    Tallies Trawler wasn''t busy this time of day as it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Fritz supposed only the idle rich ate between those two events. That and a lot of the place¡¯s trade happened at night, when the working girls were out in full face and full force. Still, there were a smattering of drunks already in their places at the bar or at one of the many solid wooden tables.

    It was quite a large establishment, and Fritz wondered how it managed to stay open let alone thrive in the desperate district as it obviously did. Though maybe it had something to do with the many pretty waitresses.

    He didn''t wonder for long though as his eyes and attention were drawn to the towering, muscular form of Tallie behind the bar. Fritz wouldn''t describe the woman as handsome, not if he wanted to keep all his teeth, rather he would call her august. She had strong features that weren''t exactly unappealing and had elegantly styled pale blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders.

    Her eyes were as black as coal and scanned the room for trouble or work for her waitresses as they bustled about in their cream-coloured dresses and brown aprons. Tallie herself wore a dress of dark green and an apron of pristine white with a low neckline that presented a bosom as prodigious as her musculature.

    Fritz strode up to the bar assuredly and met her gaze as she asked in a surprisingly sultry voice, "What can I get you?"

    "I''m looking for Bert. Is he still around or did he leave a message?" Fritz asked, realising just how tall the woman was, having at least a foot on his own height.

    "As I told him, I''m not a notice board or a messenger. But Vee told me to keep an eye out for you, Fritz," She replied with a small smile.

    "Ah... hopefully in a good way," Fritz said with an ingratiating smile.

    "In the best of ways," She nearly purred. "Have a drink on the house, you look like you need one."

    "Oh, I could go for a glass of red. A Merlot from Portus Hai maybe?" Fritz said without missing a beat. Naming a drink that would be at the top, if not out of reach, of this tavern''s price range and far too expensive for regular consumption.

    Tallie rolled her eyes but reached under the bar and brought out a dark bottle of exactly what he asked for. It was as if she was prepared for his outrageous order. She quickly produced two crystal wine glasses and placed one in front of herself and one in front of Fritz. Tallie twisted the bottle''s neck, the cork was pulled free with a satisfying pop and she poured a glass for each of them.

    Fritz took his and swirled it within the crystal, pretending he knew what to do with good wine and acting as if he enjoyed the bitter fragrance. Tallie just smirked and swallowed hers down as if it were a shot of the roughest swill in the district. Shrugging Fritz followed suit, gulping down a mouthful of the fruity, sour wine.

    He found he liked its flavourful, berry notes immensely and soon regretted drinking the whole glass so quickly. He gave the bottle a longing look and suppressed a sigh.

    Tallie laughed and went to pour him another drink then paused as if having a thought. Once she¡¯d seemingly made up her mind she pushed the bottle towards him and said, "Take the whole bottle. Anyone who goes ''gallantly'' saving my waitresses deserves more than just a free drink or two."

    "You know about that do you?" Fritz asked more than a little surprised.

    Tallie nodded and her lips formed a thin line. "The gangs should know better by now than to abduct my girls for that wretched Spire. But every Tolling it seems I have to break the skulls of those who don''t get the picture," She said, seemingly exasperated.

    "I thought we weren''t meant to talk about, the Spire," Fritz said as he leant over and whispered the last word.

    "Just don''t go yelling about it, you''ll find there''s a lot who are in the know or have gone through it themselves," Tallie said. "What''s important is that you don''t tip off the guard or the nobility."

    "Seems like a difficult secret to keep though," Fritz said hesitantly.

    "Not when you''re the Nightshark," Tallie said with a resigned sigh. "Their grip on the Sunken Ring is absolute."

    "So absolute that you can go around breaking skulls?" Fritz replied.

    "I''m an exception, they don''t mess with me and I don''t mess with them. And if any of their minions break the peace I can deal with it myself," She said with a smirk and a subtle flex of her mighty physique.

    Definitely plenty of points in Strength, Fritz thought.

    "But we''re straying from why you''re here, Bert''s in the building across the street. Third floor, room five," Tallie said brusquely as more rough people entered the tavern and sat at the bar.

    Fritz nodded, and corking the bottle of Merlot he took his leave with a thank you that Tallie waved off with a smile.

    Fritz strode back out into the street to find someone messing with the cover of his cart and peeking into his lidded bucket.

    "Oi! Leave my cart alone!" Fritz yelled as he stomped toward the pole-thin man.

    The beggar turned and fear entered his one good eye, he began to splutter, apologise and limp away.

    Fritz sighed, pity running rampant in his chest and souring in his mouth.

    "Wait," He ordered in a gentler but still stern tone. "Here."

    Fritz held out a handful of copper triads to the man, who held out his bony hands and received the coins gratefully.

    The man shuffled off soon after with many thanks and blessings. With another sigh, Fritz made to go find Bert but then thought better of leaving his bucket for anyone to steal. He wasn''t too worried about the cart or the rope as it had little worth relative to the effort of moving so much weight, that and he could easily track down a cart by the lines its wheels left in the mud.

    Seizing the bucket by its slightly rusty handle he hurried into the stone tenement across from the tavern, quickly found the squeaky stairs and took them carefully up to the third floor. Standing in front of the door of room number five, as proclaimed by the number carved into its wood, Fritz knocked.

    There were voices one of which was Bert''s but the other two were feminine, one high and one low. With the creak of wood and heavy thumps of footfalls on floorboards, a lock snapped and the door swung inwards. Standing in the doorway was Lynn in a thick white nightgown that fell to her knees, she glared at him with her burgundy eyes until a flash of recognition entered them and she smiled sardonically.

    "Come to join in the fun?" She asked, smirking as the smell of beer and cheap wine wafted from the room.

    "Looking for Bert. Is that idiot here?" Fritz replied with a bland smile.

    "No idiots here! Just drunks!" Bert yelled as Lynn opened the door further and ushered Fritz into the room.

    The room was small, having little in the way of furniture. However, it had a small table with an abandoned game of cards and was littered with empty bottles.

    Fritz somewhat expected what he was about to see. But he was still annoyed to find his friend, shirtless but thankfully not pantsless, lounging on the large bed that took up one of the room''s corners.

    He was grinning dumbly from ear to ear and had one athletic arm wrapped around Veronica''s slim waist. She was in a thin, green dress, her bright red hair was in some disarray and she had a relaxed smile on her lips.

    Cradling a half-full bottle of wine, Veronica waved at him, lifted her drink and loudly proclaimed, "It''s our hero! Hurray!"

    "Hurray!" Bert agreed raising his own bottle in salute.

    Lynn also gave Fritz a "Hurray!" and a light shoulder barge, that nearly bowled him over.

    "Enjoying ourselves?" Fritz asked the room as if it wasn''t apparent.

    There was a chorus of "Yays" and Veronica got up from the bed pattered over to Fritz, wrapped her arms around him while he lifted his arms like a scarecrow to avoid dropping what he had in his hands.

    She hugged him tight and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, whisper-mumbling, "Thankyouuu," into his neck.

    "No problem, it''s what heroes do," He stated trying to contain the heat rising to his face.

    He found the room was stiflingly warm, and that''s probably why everyone else had discarded their heavier over-clothes.

    "Not even a hint of modesty," Lynn laughed heartily. "What have you got there, Fritz? A bottle of wine and what''s in here?" She asked as she pulled the bucket free from his hand and opened the lid.

    Her mischievous smirk turned into one of bemusement as she saw what was within.

    "Mackerel? You''re into some weird stuff, Fritz. What do you say, want to try some Vee?" Lynn teased as she shook the bucket of fish at Veronica, menacing the poor woman with the not-too-fresh fish smell.

    "Ewww noooo," Veronica cried as she let go of Fritz, running from the offending odor and back into the awaiting arms of Bert who grunted as she landed on him.

    Lynn laughed again and replaced the lid quickly when she herself gagged from getting a whiff, her dark skin paling slightly.

    Fritz just stood there wide-eyed as Bert and Veronica cackled. Then he joined the laughter.

    After the excitement had died down and the bucket was placed outside the room where it could no longer injure their sense of smell, Fritz asked, "So you''ve been celebrating ever since you got back?"

    "Yeah I was having a grand old time at Tallies, then I found these two last night," Bert happily.

    "More like we found him," Veronica supplied with a smile. "We heard some golden-haired bastard had celebrated for a night and a day so we came to see if it was who we thought it could be."

    "You''ll never guess who the golden-haired bastard was," Bert said.

    "It was Bert!" Veronica laughed.

    "But Tallie wanted him out. Said she''d had enough of his voice," Lynn explained.

    "Also I spent all my silver," Bert lamented.

    "That too," Lynn agreed. "So we told Tallie to keep an eye out for you if you turned up and we''ve been celebrating your miraculous survival since."

    "I can see that," Fritz said looking around at all the empty bottles. "Say, once you''re sobered up do want to help me and Bert out?"

    "Whatever you want, Fritz," Lynn said throatily while Veronica licked her lips and leered from the bed.

    He felt a shiver run down his back that wasn''t at all unpleasant but shook his head, "Not like that. I have a plan that might need some extra hands," he said adjusting his damp and suddenly too tight collar.

    Lynn nudged his elbow with her own while Veronica and Bert were about to say something lecherous before Fritz cut them off quickly, "I said, not like that. It has to do with the Treasure me and Bert hid."

    "Sure," Lynn agreed with a shrug.

    "Of course," Veronica stated.

    "I''m in," Bert rejoined, though he didn¡¯t need to.

    With that, Fritz explained the bones of his plan.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 9

    "I can''t believe we agreed to this," Lynn groused.

    "You took advantage of us in our intoxicated state," Veronica lamented insincerely.

    It had been hours since he enlisted their help and made their way here, the day was just dawning and they¡¯d had plenty of time to sober up. He hadn¡¯t been idle though while they regained their wits, he had been bribing and talking to those who might have a good idea of Nic¡¯s routine. It cost him the rest of his triads, but the information was integral for his plan¡¯s success, as he didn¡¯t want the powerful thug anywhere near the Sunken Spire lest they be discovered and have to fight their way out.

    Something he knew wouldn¡¯t turn out well for him and his crew.

    Fritz rolled his eyes, and said, "It''ll be fine. When have my plans ever gone wrong? Bert don''t speak."

    "Could we have at least brought an umbrella?" Veronica asked wiping the pouring rain from her eyes.

    "An umbrella would give you away, and you''ve got your raincoats," Fritz hissed down to the ''cart crew'', which consisted of Bert, Lynn and Veronica all hidden behind the alley''s corner.

    Fritz himself was perched on a roof, watching for Nic to leave the tunnels that led down to the Sunken Spire and the stashed Treasures. He had it from multiple sources that Nic always got a hot breakfast just after dawn, so Fritz decided that was the best time to strike if they wanted to avoid him.

    Much to his surprise a storm hawk swooped down and landed right on the ledge next to Fritz and looked him over with an inquisitive eye. It seemed to be the very storm hawk he''d seen two nights ago when they had been let out of the tunnels.

    Maybe it had a nest near here? Fritz wondered.

    "Why hello, aren''t you a pretty thing?" Fritz said once his shock had worn off.

    The hawk tilted its head a let out a small squawk, and Fritz called down to Bert, "Throw me a fish."

    Bert raised an eyebrow but shrugged and complied, reaching into the bucket he held and tossing up a mackerel that Fritz snatched deftly out of the air.

    Fritz offered the fish to the storm hawk and it ruffled its blue-black wings and shuffled closer on its razor-sharp, silver talons. With a startling speed, it pecked the mackerel right out of his grip and swallowed it down in a few short seconds. It let out a slightly louder squawk as if demanding more and shuffled even closer.

    "You''re a greedy one aren''t you?" Fritz said as it got within arms reach.

    "Who are you chattering to up there?" Veronica hissed.

    "A hungry hawk," Fritz explained.

    "You should get rid of it," Bert suggested seriously. "No witnesses."

    "No witnesses? It''s only a curious little hawk, I''m going to name him-eeoouch!" Fritz cried as the hawk pecked at his hand, splitting a two-inch long gouge down his flesh with its appallingly sharp silver beak. "Bastard!"

    "That''s a terrible name!" Veronica said.

    "I like it," Bert replied.

    "Shut up, the lot of you," Lynn growled. "I think I see something."

    Pulling his attention away from the hawk and back to the alley Fritz could see that Lynn was right, a figure with its back to them and in an oil coat was walking away from the entrance to the tunnels.

    Again the hawk distracted him with a squawk and a threatening lunge which he dodged by stepping away from the roof''s ledge. Missing Fritz by a hair its beak sparked against the stone leaving a fine furrow in its wake. The hawk swivelled its head and turned a baleful lightning-blue eye on him.

    "Piss off, Bastard!" Fritz whisper-yelled at the bird as he cradled his bleeding hand to his chest.

    It puffed out its breast and was seemingly about to let out a powerful screech. Worried the hawk''s cry would alert the oilcoat he was mostly certain was Nic, Fritz grabbed his almost empty triad purse and opened it wide.

    He called on his Dusksong to imbue his hands and pouch with Gloom Strike. It was difficult to spread the shifting shadowy energies over the purse as it obviously wasn''t what the Ability was intended for, but his Control and some strange effect of his mana allowed him to wreath it with some small amount of wisping, whispering shade.

    The hawk''s eye followed his hands easily, seemingly unaffected by the obscuring shadows and it lunged towards Fritz attempting to pierce him again with its razor-sharp beak. He was ready though and through the efforts and power of his Grace was able to redirect the hawks pecking head into the open mouth of the purse.

    He pulled on the purse strings hard, cutting off the evil bird''s shriek of rage as it plunged into blinding blackness. With a twist, he tied the pouch fast around the hawk''s neck then stepped back away from the glittering flash of an arcing talon. The sudden swipe would have sliced his belly open and spilled his guts over the rooftop if he hadn''t already felt the cut coming and acted on his Danger Sense¡¯s warning.

    The hawk ducked its still-covered head and Fritz could see it was about to cut itself free of the bag so he rushed the creature and struck out with a pushing kick. His boot met the hawk''s surprisingly solid breast with a thud and knocked it off the ledge. It let out a muffled squawk as it fell into the cart below.

    Luckily his crew were not amateurs and didn''t scream or yell about the sudden appearance of a falling, flailing hawk. Lynn was on the bird in an instant, her stony fists sparking as they were struck by the talons. She gripped the hawk''s legs holding them still with some obvious effort while Bert wrapped his hands around its beak which had cut through Fritz''s cloth pouch.

    It tried to screech but only a soft whistle escaped as Bert''s hands began to drip with blood. With the bastard bird caught Fritz quickly turned his attention back to the man in the oilcoat, praying they hadn''t noticed the sound of their scuffle over the rain''s eternal drumming.

    They were lucky, the man reached the end of the alley and turned the corner, leaving them unnoticed at the opposite end. With a sigh Fritz scrabbled down from his vantage point and joined his current crew around the cart and the still-struggling storm hawk.

    "What do we do?" Lynn asked. "It''s really strong for a bloody bird."

    "I can break its neck," Bert suggested with a grimace.

    Something about that course of action irked Fritz and gave him a feeling of foreboding he couldn''t explain. His stomach fell at the very thought of them harming the hawk any further.

    "Hold onto it until we have our cart in the tunnels, then let it go," Fritz ordered.

    "Bastard''s cutting up my palms," Bert groused.

    "Maybe it wasn''t such a terrible name after all," Veronica mused as she watched Bert and Lynn wrestle the bird until it eventually went limp from exhaustion.

    "I''m going to go open the door," Fritz said. "Wait here until I give the signal. Wrap the Bastard up if you can, just in case it''s biding its time."

    "It''s a bloody bird, it can''t be that smart," Lynn said.

    Fritz ignored the comment and rapidly snuck to the large heavy door to the tunnels. Pulling his metal bone lock picks free he slotted them into the lock. He winced as the back of his hand stung from his movements, but soon heard the telling clunk of the lock. Next, he tried the handle and exhaled with relief as the wood swung inward. He was extremely grateful that the door hadn''t been barred.

    Finally a lucky break.

    Fritz gave the signal and his crew and the cart came lumbering forward and into the tunnel proper within the minute. He was about to give the order to release the hawk but changed his mind, as a sudden uneasy feeling flared his caution.

    "We''re keeping the bird, keep it quiet Bert," Fritz commanded quietly so his voice wouldn''t echo.

    "What? Why?" Bert whispered back.

    "Bad feeling," Fritz said.

    "Bad feeling?" Lynn asked incredulously.

    "It''ll make a lot of noise and maybe bring Nic back," Fritz said rationalising what was likely just paranoia.

    Lynn and Veronica looked sceptical but Bert nodded with unshakeable trust so they went along with his absurd demand binding the bird more thoroughly with some twine and canvas covering around its body and beak.

    They tied the stiff hawk up until it resembled an overly enthusiastically, haphazardly wrapped birthday present. Though Fritz wasn''t able to see the hawk''s eyes he knew it was glaring malefically.

    Fritz closed the heavy door behind them and Veronica said, "It''s too dark, can''t see a thing."

    "Hold on to the cart, I''ll scout ahead. It''ll be fine, just like old times," Fritz said reassuringly.

    Veronica shivered, "That''s not the comfort you think it is, Fritz."

    But composing herself she lay one hand on Lynn''s arm and one hand on the wooden cart and grasped them both tightly.

    "Let''s go then," Fritz intoned, leading the way into the black, winding, damp and dripping tunnels.

    While the tunnels looked identical to most laymen Fritz was barely having any trouble at all, not even a little bit. Okay, I might be a little lost, he internally admitted after nearly ten minutes of trying to find their way. Still, he forged on, heading towards where he thought he heard the sounds of the sloshing lake. He almost cried in relief when he finally found an intersection he remembered clearly.

    Giddily he skulked forward and could definitely hear the waves that surrounded the Sunken Spire, within minutes Fritz motioned for them to stop the cart, as its grinding wheels would give them away instantly if there were a lookout on the cliff by the lake, which he knew there would be.

    As Fritz snuck down the tunnel he saw the unmistakable gleam of blue-green reflecting on the wet stone brick. He crept towards the eerie light as quietly as he could manage, which with his Grace was quite quiet indeed. He reached the opening of the domed cavern and peered within.

    There, just as he remembered, was the Spire and the lake, and sitting only ten yards away was a man in an oilcoat with a bitterly familiar mop of dark, lank hair. Fritz grinned grimly, it seemed he''d have his Treasure and his revenge all in one fell swoop.

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    An idea occurred to him, so he unlaced his boots then removed them quietly. He would need to be as silent as possible so the clunky boots had to go. He kept the thick laces in his hands and left the boots by the entrance, then he began his approach, slowly and steadily creeping towards Kev''s defenceless back.

    Though the stone was cold and slick he didn''t slip or stumble.

    Something splashed within the water and Kev turned to watch it, Fritz froze hoping he wouldn''t be spotted from the corner of the thug''s bored eye.

    Kev scratched his head and grumbled, "Why do I got to stand here, not my fault there was no Treasure."

    Fritz looked around just to make sure the man was complaining to the empty air and when he was certain there was no one else save him he resumed his stalking. His eyes were drawn to the boots the man was wearing.

    Fritz''s boots. A cold fury boiled in his chest.

    Within nine heartbeats he stood behind Kev, could see the white flakes in his greasy, hair and felt the cold churning and burning within his chest. Resonating, resounding with his Dusksong. One more step and Fritz whispered into the man''s ear, "Your shoelaces are untied."

    Before Kev could spin Fritz looped his bootlaces around the man''s neck, like a garrote, and heaved on them, pulling them taut. Kev choked, spat and grasped at the laces. When his fingers found no gaps he changed tactics, pushing backwards into Fritz''s chest then attempting to haul him off his feet with his far superior strength. It might have worked if Fritz hadn''t thrown off the man''s balance with a perfectly placed Stone Pit below one foot and a precisely aimed shadowed kick to the back of his knee.

    Staggering Kev fell awkwardly, painfully to his knees and began scrabbling again at the laces squeezing his throat. Fritz pulled back harder, pushing his own knee into the small of the thug''s back. Fritz''s heart thrummed in his chest beating along to some cheerful chime somewhere near his centre as he denied the man even one breath. One of the laces snapped from the terrible strain but Fritz redoubled his grip and strength on the unbroken strand, he didn''t want to think what would happen if Kev got free.

    The last lace held as Kev''s struggles became sluggish, slow and eventually stopped. His arms dropped limply to his sides and his head nodded forward.

    Fritz held on tight, his heart still pounding, and his mind wary of any trick.

    Caution saved him again as Kev stiffened and fought one last time, straining, flailing. His skin changed to the colour of stone and he scratched at his neck with grey hands. His strength was immense and Fritz was afraid that lace would break, that the Stone Skin would allow Kev to catch a breath and cursed himself for not just going for his dagger and cutting the man''s throat when he had the chance instead.

    Fritz fought with every ounce of his being, his eyes went wide as the lace bulged and Kev gasped in a tiny gulp of air.

    Fritz aimed another Stone Pit. Not on the floor this time but instead on the thug''s neck, pushing with all his Control to soften the man''s skin around his throat. It seemed to work, the lace pulled tighter even as the Ability pushed back against his will. He cast the spell again, feeling his Stamina drain away and his vision going dark around the edges like it was him being suffocated not the other way around.

    Then, finally, after what seemed like an hour of fierce fighting Kev stopped moving and mercifully, sagged then slid into oblivion. Struggling to stay standing himself Fritz lost track of time and after what could have been a moment or a minute he found himself panting, his arms aching and a grim pleasure pulsing in his centre as he held up the limp body.

    He tried to let go of the lace but his hands refused as they trembled and were seemingly too stiff to unclench. Fritz let out a sigh, relaxed his overly tense body and suddenly fell on his backside.

    All his furious, frantic energy fleeing him.

    The body collapsed with him and Kev''s head fell into Fritz''s lap and stared bulging, bloodshot but completely lifeless eyes up at him. His ugly face wasn''t much better in death and Fritz didn''t want to see it or the terrible bruises splotched around the neck. Whatever feeling of triumph died as he looked at the dead man. His cold spite melting away in moments as he considered what he''d just done.

    Fritz shook his head, "It was you or me, one of us had to go. And it was never going to be me," he told the corpse as he rolled the body off of himself.

    "Well said," Veronica intoned, announcing herself as she stood in the entrance. Her eyes were warm and had a certain hardness to them when staring at him but when she gazed upon the dead body they went as cold as ice. Just as they had done in the Spire.

    Seeing her expression again almost made Fritz regret bringing her along.

    "Why did you come?" Fritz rasped, stilling his unconsciously trembling hands.

    "You took too long and Bert was worried," She said. "But it seems you''ve got things under control."

    Fritz coughed, clearing his throat. Something Kev was never going to do again.

    "Ah, yes. Sorry you had to see this," Fritz said motioning to the body and feeling a bit sick at the sight himself.

    "Seen worse. Done worse," Veronica said dismissively. "Shall I get the others?"

    "Yes, please, if you wouldn''t mind," Fritz said with a polite smile that hopefully covered his weariness and nausea.

    She turned without another word and retreated down the passage.

    Fritz was left alone with only the corpse as company. With a resigned sigh he began to loot the body, nothing could go to waste, that and those boots were his. Rightful spoils both from the Spire and his successful revenge.

    He pulled the boots off the corpse and they came away with a whisper. Fritz slid them onto his own feet.

    He grimaced, they were still warm.

    A bitter taste filled his mouth but he swallowed it down and looked away from the body''s bloodshot stare.

    Standing with only a small wobble, Fritz made his way to where he knew the hidden hole in the cliff to be and, pulling out the obscuring rags, found their second stash of Treasures. He retrieved his bone dagger, barrier ring, pouch of gold and Bert''s amulet.

    Fritz smiled, some of the bitter taste fading, he Activated the amulet and felt warmth suffuse him and the aches in his muscles receded as the imbued Second Wind took effect.

    With a sigh, he stood and tucked the dagger into his belt, put the ring on his finger and waited as the clunking of wheels clattered closer.

    The cart rolled in and Bert and Lynn angled it into the centre of the rock cliff. When they had stopped Fritz threw the Amulet of Repose to Bert who caught it with a grin and rapidly returned the brass chain to its home around his broad shoulders.

    Lynn looked around and spotted the body, "You killed him?" she asked with a small frown.

    "I did. He deserved it," Fritz stated trying to make the words sound true to his own ears. Lynn shrugged and Bert said, "More bait can''t hurt, too bad it''s not live."

    Somewhat appalled but also somewhat comforted by his friend''s callousness, Fritz began setting up the ropes.

    "So Veronica, still up for the swim?" Fritz asked.

    "Sure thing," She said taking off her coat and dress, then unclasping and removing her sandle-like shoes leaving her standing unabashed in a short grey shirt that bared her midriff and dark trousers with the leggings up to her thighs cut away showing off a scandalous amount of calf.

    "Still don''t know why Vee should have to do it," Lynn said as she eyed Veronica''s pale body appreciably. "You two have more Attributes."

    "We''ll just sink. We have Traits that make us too heavy," Fritz said.

    "And you said you don''t want to do it, Lynn. Unless you''ve changed your mind?" Veronica said, tying her hair back then placing a hand on her hip.

    Lynn shook her head. "No, you''re the better swimmer."

    "That and her Grace will help her move better," Fritz added, not knowing exactly where to look but deciding to keep his gaze above her shoulders.

    "Don''t forget my Dancer''s Steps boon, and Aesthetics Attribute," She said with a wink.

    Fritz coughed. "Your Path did seem to come with some interesting¡­ effects," He agreed.

    "Damn right!" Bert said. "Vee''s a real beauty."

    Lynn nodded in agreement.

    They were right of course, the Aesthetics Advanced Attribute was said to make you able to sculpt or guide your face and form into something more pleasing, and Veronica had always been pretty. Now it was like most of her small imperfections had been sanded and smoothed away, leaving her distractingly gorgeous and she knew it.

    Fritz turned away, focused on getting everything ready. While Bert reiterated that there was the water-breathing sludge in the rowboat that floated by the Spire and Lynn fussed over Veronica''s safety.

    "Yes, Yes I''ve got it, it''s sweet that you both worry so much, but I can handle a little cold," Veronica said with a slight smile."I''ll be but a moment."

    Fritz, Lynn and Bert watched her approach the lake with a confident, graceful stride. Then she gradually broke into to run and activated her Dancer¡¯s Steps.

    Her movements subtly changed, becoming more refined as her feet seemed to glide over the stone, barely touching its smooth surface. She reached the cliff''s edge and leapt into the air like a bird taking to flight before descending and diving in a sublime arc and making barely a splash as she plunged below the gleaming waves.

    Veronica was out of sight for almost a minute and Fritz was afraid that maybe the freezing water had caught her in its icy grasp and drowned her. It was only when he began to wring his hands that he saw her head pop out among the waves far away. He let out a sigh and pointed her out to the others watching anxiously as she swam that last of the distance and pulled herself nimbly into the boat.

    Once Veronica had returned with the boat, Fritz jumped in with the bucket while Bert threw Kev''s body into the centre of the vessel. The end of the anchor rope was thrown in as well as the grappling hook Fritz had bought the day before sturdily knotted to it. The rest of the rope stayed behind as did Bert and Lynn as their muscle was going to be needed to pull.

    Fritz and Veronica each took an oar and rowed back out to the Spire, trailing a line of thick, anchor rope that led back to the cliffs. When they arrived at the Spire and they had stopped moving Fritz opened the bucket, taking a few of the mackerel and impaling them on the grappling hook. He hacked apart the rest with his dagger, turning them into the bloody, oily chum he needed. Covering his nose and pouring the bucket''s stinking contents into the water he waited and watched for any signs of aquatic activity.

    Bits of fish floated on the surface and some sank, and Fritz could tell that far below denizens of the depths stirred hungrily. Small and sparse, dark shapes glinted. They darted under the roiling water, but Fritz didn''t drop his grappling hook into the lake yet, not when his target hadn''t appeared. This area around the Spire was its territory, or so he''d hoped, and it should make an appearance... any time now.

    While drumming his fingers on the rowboat''s railing and intently staring at the water, he was startled by a cry from Veronica, who was pointing near the lake''s surface on the other side of the boat.

    "I think I see it, is that it!?" She shouted.

    Fritz squinted and saw what she had spotted, there jutting out of the waves like a dull grey fang was a fin as tall as him and almost as wide. It rushed towards the boat and bait, splitting the water like a sword. He gulped, maybe his plan wasn''t such a great one after all, maybe he was an absolute moron and was about to get them killed. It all sounded fine, if ridiculous, back then while scheming and plotting in safety, but now, in the moment, it felt more like lunacy.

    Idiot, no use backing out now! He screamed internally as he marshalled his Control and threw the baited hook in front of the fin''s path.

    The fin cut past both the hook and the boat, diving into the depths and scattering the other monstrous, metallic fish. Its lurking shadow circled beneath the boat and suddenly the hook''s rope was pulled deeper by some terrible strength.

    It was now or never, holding onto the line Fritz swallowed down the foul slime of a water-breathing potion, took a huge breath and placed his dagger between his teeth like some kind of pirate.

    Then he dove.

    It was freezing but he was prepared for the cold, he wasn¡¯t, however, prepared for the speed he was moving through the water. He held to the rope desperately and could clearly see it trailing from the great armoured shark''s mouth as he was dragged along. It seemed the metal of the grappling hook was well and truly lodged tight between its shiny, razor teeth and thick pale gums.

    Fritz was exalted that the great grey-plated fish had taken the bait on the first try and had not cut apart the rope with its deadly bite. But he was still struggling to keep his grip as the rope tried to twist out of his hands.

    Fritz clenched his fists tighter and dragged himself up the rope, it felt like climbing a mountainside but he continued on until he was right by the shark''s swaying tail. It came at him and almost cut right through a leg but he was able to activate his barrier ring in time saving his limb from the axe-like blade as the bubble like field shunted the unintentional attack away.

    Fritz hastily climbed further and was yanked sideways as the shark sharply turned. He held on for dear life, his arms ached and trembled, luckily the numbing cold took away some of the pain but not for long as the potion''s heat poured from his lungs and soaked his body in warmth.

    Biting down hard on his blade he crawled further up the rope until he was beside one huge fin that stuck out like an iron rudder. Through stinging eyes, he could see the seam in the monster''s dull plating, right between the fin and body. Wrapping his arm and leg around the anchoring rope he used his good hand to take his dagger from his mouth and waited for an opportunity to strike.

    That moment came quickly as the shark turned again and Fritz was pulled close to its armoured side. Activating his dagger''s cold curse and his own Gloom Strike, he plunged the silently shrieking blade below the fin, into the seam and pulled it through the tough flesh. A cloud of red billowed out from where he cut and only increased when he slid the blade down and out from between the plates.

    He wondered if it was enough to kill the monster, but didn''t get much time to think as the shark spun on him, staring Fritz down with an unfeeling pale eye. He felt the terrible premonition of his arm being torn to pieces by hundreds of cold knives. So he let go of the rope and kicked at the water, dodging the oncoming bite by a hair''s breadth.

    The shark''s bulk glided past but not before Fritz wreathed his dagger in its curse again and pulled more cruel power from his Dusksong for another Gloom Strike. He stabbed down into the seam that ran almost the entire shark''s body and held on as he sliced it, opening it to the salty lake. If the other plume of blood from the cut fin was a cloud then this was a storm. The red engulfed him and Fritz had to rely on only his Danger Sense and barrier ring to fight, twice the shark came back for him, twice he dodged. There was no third time.

    After a minute of stillness, Fritz swam out from the obscuring fog of blood and followed the clear trail left by the wounded shark. There the plated beast was, floating below the waves, but not sinking despite its great weight.

    He wanted to yell and dance with joy, as the plan had almost come to full fruition, his greatest hurdle cleared and cleared with great gallantry.

    But he still had to hold his breath for the potion to keep working so he flailed a little in the water as if dancing but probably looking more like were was drowning.

    Lucky no one can see me then.

    It was then he noticed that the shark was getting further and further away, the hook and rope in its mouth gradually pulling it towards the cliff. Slowly sinking, Fritz fell to the bottom of the lake and began the trek to the cliffs, he had plenty of time left on the potion and could follow in the shark''s shadow.

    Cloak of Dusk seemed to work even in the water, the other fish and squid ignored him completely in the dark. Eventually, he reached the cliffs and found the thick netting they had thrown in, with a couple of jiggles of the net they began to haul him up. He mused that this must''ve been what fish felt like as he was pulled back into the brightness and unceremoniously dumped on the stone ground.

    Fritz looked around as he got free of the coarse netting and stood, Bert and Lynn were there and got back to heaving on the shark rope, and Veronica was rowing the boat to the stony edge.

    "Just as planned?" Bert asked.

    "Perfectly," Fritz said jovially. "Even better than perfectly, the shark floats somewhat so we won''t have to haul it up so far. That and my feet are still wonderfully dry. I love these boots."

    "We noticed," Lynn said offering Veronica a hand out of the boat which she took gratefully and turned into something of a twirl that landed her in Lynn''s strong arms. They laughed and Lynn squeezed the woman who squeezed her back and gave her a peck on the lips.

    "Hey, what about me?" Bert cried as he watched them.

    "You''ll get yours," Veronica said with a laugh.

    "It''s first come first serve," Lynn said with a wicked smile. "You''ll have to be quicker."

    "I don''t think I''ve ever been asked to be quicker," Bert replied easily with an equally wicked grin.

    Fritz coughed, interrupting...whatever the three were doing.

    "Shark, net, Treasure," He explained succinctly, not willing to be pulled into their flirting.

    They all took a place along the thick rope and pulled until the shark''s belly-up body floated next to the cliff face.

    Next was the netting they had tied themselves with the thicker than normal rope, Veronica dived in again to help secure it properly and had to drink another of the disgusting potions, disregarding both Lynn''s and Bert''s offers to warm her up with their body heat.

    "I hope it holds," Veronica said as they heaved on the net, pulling the absolutely enormous shark onto land.

    It had to be around sixty feet long and almost twice as tall as Fritz. He could have fit easily within its massive jaws and was unsure how he could ever have slain such a behemoth even though he had.

    He shook his head and hauled with the rest of his crew.

    Without Bert''s Momentum, Lynn''s Overwhelm Ability and the Amulet of Reposes restorative power the metallic shark would have been impossible to move onto the cliff without pulleys winches and other mechanisms to help. But eventually, with great effort, sweating and grunting they managed to heave it over and onto the ledge.

    Finally the majority of the monster''s bulk lay on smooth, stony ground.

    "Now," Lynn said panting, "Where''s the Treasure?"

    "You''re looking at it."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 10

    Fritz strode to the shark''s bare underbelly with his dagger outstretched. He found a seam that ran the length of its budging stomach and plunged the bone-blade deep. Then he walked along the shark''s length gliding the dagger along and through its thick flesh.

    A flood of guts and half-eaten fish spilled out from the gaping rent. It was joined by a large, mildly digested, ball-like package wrapped in oilskin and dark rope. It thudded on the stone and rolled a little, sounding as though it were filled with metal and wood. It was about half of Fritz''s height and he bowed ostentatiously as its rolling came to a sticky stop in front of the obviously disgusted, grimacing, women.

    "Ew," Veronica stated.

    "Foul," Lynn agreed.

    Fritz and Bert quickly descended upon the wrapped ball, unknotting the rope and pulling the oilcloth cover away, revealing silver bones, two travellers'' packs and lastly two wooden chests to the curious onlookers.

    "How on Epsa did you get the shark to eat that?" Lynn asked.

    "Covered it in hound meat and pushed it towards it. Or rather, Bert did. Shark did the rest. They are mighty hungry things," Fritz supplied the last drily as if it were obvious.

    "What''s in the chests?" A now dressed Veronica asked.

    Fritz and Bert picked up their respective chests and turned to the ladies, then they nodded at each other and opened them in unison.

    "Gold!" They said together, revealing the rows of gold triads within.

    Veronica gasped and she covered her mouth with her hands while Lynn''s eyes went wide and she grinned even wider.

    "You guys are rich!" Veronica exclaimed.

    "That''s right Veronica, we are very well-to-do," Fritz said haughtily.

    "You can call me Vee, Fritz," She replied as the glint of gold was reflected in her eyes. "What are you going to do with it all?"

    "Well, first let''s get this stuff into the cart, then we...clean up a little," Fritz said looking around at the mess they''d made.

    "Good plan, we can chat about cuts and splits when the Treasure is secure," Vee said with a warm, hungry smile and excited eyes.

    They quickly got to it, loading all their Treasures into the cart and then covering it with slabs of shark meat, they had hastily carved away.

    "Make sure you don''t suffocate the hawk," Fritz warned.

    "Maybe you should hold and hug it close, like Sid, if it''s so precious?" Bert teased.

    "Like Sid?" Vee said in a giggling tone. "Fritz and Sid? Hugging? Together?" She asked Bert conspiratorially.

    "Fritz and Sid," Bert confirmed, "Found ''em stuck together like skulg."

    "Nice, Fritz. Didn''t know you had it in you, or rather, she had it in her," Lynn laughed coarsely.

    Vee went into something of a fit of giggles while Bert grinned stupidly. Fritz felt some heat flushing to his face but he refused to give them the reaction they were looking for and simply said, "That''s right, me and Sid. So very amusing."

    "It is!" Vee agreed, "She''s all tough and you''re all...you."

    Fritz tilted his head arrogantly and scoffed, these idiots didn''t know the first thing about passion anyway. Their best idea of romance was a couple of shots of the roughest spirits in the dingiest bar and a quick frisking in an alley. He snatched up the packaged hawk and it shook in his grip with a small squawk.

    After the laughter died down Vee said, "Sorry, it''s just very cute."

    "It was sickeningly sweet, and they took forever to come to their senses ''cause they''re both idiots," Bert added. "It was a headache and a half, true as the rain."

    "Let''s stop discussing my personal affairs and get to hauling this stuff out, we still have to get to the new safe-house," Fritz said, letting only a little of his agitation show.

    "Right you are, all this girl talk is making me ill," Lynn responded with a light punch to his shoulder.

    "Boo!" Vee and Bert clamoured.

    "Get the rest of the shark back into the water, and where''s¡­ the body?" Fritz asked over their complaints.

    "Oh, that eyesore. I threw it in the lake out by the Spire," Vee said offhandedly.

    "Did you at least loot him before you did?" Bert asked.

    "Of course," Vee replied incredulously. "He didn''t have much on him, except this." She held out a triad pouch "And this" she added showing off a carved wooden bracelet rattling on her wrist.

    "It''s probably best to keep that hidden for some time, don''t want to bring any attention," Fritz said.

    "I know that. I''m not an idiot," Vee said. "Same goes for those boots though."

    Fritz''s shoulders sagged as he realised she was absolutely right.

    "Damn it!" He yelled then stomped off to collect his laceless too-big boots. He placed down his hawk package to free his hands but he didn''t bother taking off his magical boots as they fit him like a dream. Instead, he forced the grey leather boots over the top of them.

    They mostly fit, but it was definitely less comfortable, his feet and ankles squeezed tight by the obscuring layer of leather and his steps landed harder, like a bull¡¯s, despite his Grace.

    He trudged back, bird in tow, to see Bert and Lynn pushing the butchered remains of the shark into the lake and Vee using the bucket to splash away the organs, blood and viscera. Fritz knew they wouldn''t be able to hide that something big and bloody had happened here but he at least hoped to obfuscate the details enough that it wouldn''t lead back to him and Bert.

    He helped pull in the nets and ropes, piling them in the cart and on their shark flesh, creating layers of junk to better mask the real Treasure. With his free hand, Fritz secured the cart''s cover and turned back to his crew.

    Lynn and Bert were chatting animatedly while washing their hands in the lake while Vee waited by the entrance keeping an ear out for trouble.

    "Come on, Bert, get to pushing, we don''t have all day" Fritz said as he strode into the tunnels, leading the way through the dark and winding path.

    Bert grumbled something under his breath about Fritz being a slave driver in another life and grunted as the cart''s wheels began to creak and grind against the stone.

    Though Fritz felt that things had gone relatively smoothly so far he couldn''t help the niggling feeling that something was about to go wrong, that they were about to be caught or the cart would break or some other disaster would befall them. The pressure kept mounting and he sweat slightly as he watched and listened for danger. But his fears went unrealised. They made their way to the heavy door and were out and into the rainy alley without a single thing going amiss.

    "Seems like luck was on our side," Fritz whispered as he unwrapped the hawk, freeing it from its bindings and throwing its thrashing form at the cloudy sky. It quickly righted itself in the air and flapped furiously, fleeing to its perch upon the building opposite them. It let out a screech dripping with avian displeasure and Fritz threw it a strip of shark meat to mollify it.

    "Goodbye Bastard," He said with a wave and his crew echoed his words with their own farewells.

    The hawk greedily gobbled down the shark flesh then glared down with a hateful eye and threateningly clacked its beak. So Fritz threw it another.

    Then with all due haste, they were off and heading towards the drowned district.

    Again Fritz thought they were going to run into some obstacle or be interrogated by drizzlers or some upstart gang. However, they made their way relatively freely, only having to glare at a gang or two to scare them off.

    They were also approached by one squad of storm guard but Vee was able to talk them out of their customary bribe. It only took some slight adjustments to her dress, revealing a little more skin than was strictly warranted but muchly appreciated. Then with just a little flirting, they were on their way again, followed only by the idiot, lecherous grins of the drizzlers.

    "They didn''t even bother to check under the coverings," Fritz complained.

    "Too busy trying to stare through my ''coverings'' I suspect," Vee said easily.

    "True as the rain," Bert and Lynn said together nodding sagely.

    "I mean why even bother with all the subterfuge if we can just get past the guards with a pretty face," Fritz continued. "Feels unfair."

    "They weren''t exactly staring at my face," Vee said with mild exasperation. "And if you got it, use it. Same as anything else."

    "True as the rain," Bert and Lynn agreed solemnly.

    When they finally reached the drowned district they had to abandon the cart as the streets became far too flooded to traverse for anything other than a boat.

    With grumbles of annoyance, and some disappointment Fritz led them forward through a route he had planned earlier. They made surprisingly good time considering the terrain and the burdens they carried and in less than an hour they were in the second-floor room with all the loot.

    "Where are we gonna stash this stuff then? This room doesn''t seem all that safe," Bert asked looking around at the stone walls and somewhat submerged floor.

    Fritz strode over to the wall then pulled the hidden handle revealing the dark iron safe that lay behind. He bowed to his audience. Bert whistled in appreciation, Vee clapped politely and Lynn nodded stoically.

    Fritz had the safe open in no time and stored both chests, including the golden seeds within.

    Vee coughed politely and Fritz turned to be greeted by her bright smile and eyes glittering with greed.

    "Yes?" He asked.

    "You wouldn''t happen to have a little gold for your loyal helpers would you?" Vee asked sweetly seemingly putting on all her charms and bending a little at the waist so he had a better view of her bust.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Fritz rolled his eyes. He''d seen this performance just an hour before with the guards and now she was using it on him? He felt that he should feel offended but he really wasn''t, if he could get away with it he''d do the exact same thing, especially when it came to gold.

    He supposed they had helped a bit, and they should both get something for that. Fair¡¯s fair.

    "How about ten gold triads each?" He offered, generously.

    She pouted a little, and said, "I''m sore all over, surely you could spare a little more, say fifteen so I afford a hot bath to ease my aches?"

    Now that was brazen, a gold triad was a year of savings for a commoner with ample work and would be able to keep you fed and housed for about a year as well if you were frugal. A hot bath would hardly cost a silver.

    Fritz scoffed then laughed at her suggestive negotiations and replied, "How about eleven?"

    Vee dropped the act, stood straight and began to haggle intently.

    They eventually settled on twelve gold triads and a drink at Tallies each, but Fritz also saw Bert tip Vee an extra couple of gold with a whisper and a wink which she returned with a tiny nod, a small blush and an eager grin.

    Fritz and Bert kept twenty-five gold each so all in all they were storing away around one-hundred gold triads, a veritable fortune that didn''t even include the obviously valuable, maybe priceless, Golden Seeds.

    Fritz took "The Observations" Technique book out of his chest along with the goblin chief''s ring. He wanted to get them to Sid as promised. He also grabbed the Aberrant Seed to see if he could sell it or preferably refine it in the Upper Ring if the cost wasn''t too steep.

    Putting some of the Hound''s stripped silver bones into his pack, Fritz asked if Bert wanted the shaving kit. Which he refused.

    "I''m rich enough to see a barber now, I don''t need to be doing these menial tasks for myself," Bert said in a haughty approximation of Fritz''s slight noble-born accent.

    Fritz shook his head but thought Bert was right in a sense, they could splurge a little, or a lot, with the safety of their immense fortune.

    It was a wonderfully freeing feeling, that they could spend comfortably for years and barely feel it. He smiled wide and placed the shaving kit in his pack.

    Bert stuffed The Arte Pugilist into his own pack then peered within at the very last of the bull''s golden heart. There was a pitiful amount left after all the Treasure filling it was used for. It was barely the size of a fist, though it could possibly be minted into about twenty or thirty triads so it wasn''t all bad.

    Only thirty triads, he scoffed at himself, it was still a windfall and a half.

    Bert added the fist-sized lump of gold to the safe''s contents, and after confirming they had everything they wanted to carry around with them in their packs they closed the dark iron door and then the false wall after it.

    "Well, what do we do now?" Vee asked the room.

    "Now? Now we celebrate," Bert said. "To Tallies!"

    "Unfortunately I have duties that will not wait. I have to return the cart, and run some errands, have to prepare for our next climb," Fritz said resignedly.

    "Next climb? You just got out," Lynn exclaimed.

    "No reason not to get ready for the next one, I want to be climbing within the week," Fritz explained.

    "Why? Just take it easy for a week or two," Vee suggested.

    "I can''t, I need to be more powerful," Fritz stated.

    "Why? You''re already strong, level ten isn''t anything to scoff at," Vee said.

    "Not strong enough. I was caught by the bloody drizzlers last night and couldn''t fight them off, I''m still too weak to protect myself, my crew and my family,"Fritz said.

    "And Sid," Bert added with surprising understanding.

    "Well, she can take care of herself, mostly. But yes, Sid as well," Fritz said honestly which elicited an "Awww" from Vee and the closest thing he''d seen to a gentle smile from Lynn.

    "Fine," Bert sighed. "I need to go take care of some things too. And Fritz will need some help with the cart. Sorry to stop the party before it''s begun ladies but my blood brother needs my full attention."

    Fritz searched his friend''s overly serious face and saw his amber eyes dance with excitement and avarice.

    "You just want to go shopping," Fritz said, figuring out his game in a moment.

    "That''s right!" Bert grinned back. "Let''s spend up a storm!"

    "Won''t that be suspicious?" Vee asked some worry entering her dark brown eyes.

    "Not if we spend in the Upper Ring, countless peoples both local and foreign go in and out of there every day. Just be careful about splashing gold in the Sunken ring, that''s bound to cause ripples," Fritz warned.

    Vee and Lynn nodded in agreement.

    "Speaking of Climbs, you ladies interested?" Bert inquired.

    Lynn seemed to think it over but Vee flatly said, "No. It''s too soon for me, it was horrible in there. Maybe in a month or a year. We have the time and funds now. So we don''t have to rush."

    "I''m with Vee," Lynn said.

    "We''ll only be climbing the Mer Spire. As we don¡¯t have the proper badges to enter the Rain Spire and Nic said it was easy compared to the one we survived," Fritz said.

    He dearly wanted to try his hand at the Lesser Spire of Rain with its far more rewarding thirty floors but he also wanted a trusty and larger crew to attempt it. Unfortunately, it was also far more securely watched by both the Guides Guild and the King''s Scale Guard, so he¡¯d have to settle for the ¡®rookie¡¯ Spire, for now.

    "Nic is a monster," Lynn said seriously. "I''ve been fighting in the brawling ring and I''ve only seen him fight once. But that''s all I needed to see to know he''s a vicious fighting genius, there''s a reason he''s the Nightshark''s right-hand man. If he says it''s easy it''s not cause it actually is."

    "Didn''t seem that tough, I landed a hit on him," Fritz said defensively.

    "He let you," Lynn stated. "If he wanted to dodge he would''ve. He has a brawler Path same as me and mine Activated Speed and Durability."

    Fritz mulled it over and conceded that she was probably right, or would be if Gloom Strike didn¡¯t make his attacks so difficult to dodge. But he could only use three before running out of Dusksong, how many strikes would he have to land to actually wound the man seriously?

    "All the more reason to Climb," Fritz said. "So we''re not subject to the whims of that thug."

    Lynn looked to Vee hopefully who shook her head emphatically.

    Seeing that his efforts would be wasted trying to convince them Fritz wisely decided to let the matter lie.

    "Might as well get a move on," Fritz stated, hauling his pack onto his shoulders and watching Bert do the same. With that, they left, with heavy pockets and their stash secured. It had been a wonderful start to the day.

    They returned to the cart only to find it covered in vermin picking away at their shark meat, the storm hawks, rats and snowy seagulls eating to their heart''s content.

    Fritz and Bert shooed the scavengers, thankful that the skulg were too slow on their bulbous, warty, milky-pale tentacles to have reached the cart. Otherwise, it may have been a nasty fine or an hour of scraping the vile things away.

    "We''re off home I think, I''ve enough excitement for one day," Vee informed them with a yawn.

    "We''ll walk you," Fritz offered. "I have to hand some stuff off to Tallie anyway."

    She nodded in acquiescence and Bert gripped the handles of the cart and began to push.

    Now that they weren''t hauling a cart full of gold they didn''t feel the need to be on the lookout for danger so Fritz relaxed somewhat and they chatted as they walked. Mostly about small things, like what kind of dresses, jewellery, furniture and all sorts of odds and ends they were planning to buy with their newfound wealth.

    Bert seemed to be of the opinion that he needed more garish gold in the forms of rings, chains, pins, broaches and buckles. Vee thought he was on the right track and that she wanted something with rubies to match her hair. Lynn said wanted a weight set and Bert said he needed the same, if only to force Fritz to use it.

    It was pleasant but soon they were standing in front of Tallies Trawler and saying their farewells.

    "We''ll see you tonight for a small celebration?" Fritz asked. "After our meeting with Nic."

    "Sorry, we¡¯re awful tired and unlike some wealthy layabouts we know, we still have to work, waiting the tables," Vee said.

    ¡°You still have to work?¡± Bert burst out. ¡°Even after you recent windfall?¡±

    ¡°Of course, we have many wants and just as many needs,¡± Vee said with a sly smile. ¡°This small sum wont cover all our expenses, but it¡¯ll get us a long way along.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Bert said, somewhat deflated.

    ¡°See us before you Climb though, we¡¯ll want to drink to your success,¡± Vee requested. ¡°Oh and Fritz you should go find Naomi. She''ll want to see you and thank you as well, it hit her quite hard when we left the Spire without you. She basically threw herself into her alchemy stuff."

    Fritz nodded and said, "Where''s her sister''s stall? I can visit her there and I do want some healing grease for our Climb, might as well kill two skulg with one stone."

    Vee gave him directions, gave them both a hug and began to follow into her building after Lynn.

    Then she spun, and pattered back to Bert and planted a swift kiss on his lips, before turning and fleeing to the doorway of the tenement and waving a goodbye. Then she disappeared into the building.

    "Those are some great ladies," Bert said, still somewhat shocked by Vee¡¯s quick passionate strike, an idiot¡¯s grin still plastered to his face. "Too bad they don''t want to Climb."

    "Yes, it is too bad," Fritz agreed. "Which reminds me, we''ll have to wrangle at least one more person for the Mer Spire. So be on the lookout for potential crew, preferably ones that are willing to carry our stuff and hopefully ones who can keep a secret. I think a six-man team would be ideal though."

    "I am in agreement with the wise guide," Bert said with a grin. "I''m off to get some supplies and locate some crew. Meet you back here one hour before dusk?"

    With that and a rough hug, they split up. Fritz entered Tallies Trawler once more and Bert made his way to the Upper Ring.

    Fritz strode through the mostly empty tavern and waited at the bar for Tallie to appear. It only took a minute before the powerful woman entered through a cellar stairway and smiled at him in greeting.

    "What can I get for you this early in the morning, Fritz?" She asked. "Surely not a drink?"

    "No, nothing like that," Fritz said reassuringly. "Just have some things for you to pass along to Sylvia." He said handing out a pouch containing the goblin chief''s ring and ''The Observations''.

    He didn''t really want to give the powerful objects up and he considered keeping at least the Technique book for himself but a promise was a promise. And it was sitting in his chest like a cold stone, weighing him down like another chain.

    Tallie''s eyebrows raised in some surprise and she asked, "For Sylvia is it?" Then she smiled warmly. "My, you are full of surprises, Fritz."

    Confused at the statement he was going to ask what she meant when she took the pouch and interrupted his next words, saying, "I''ll make sure she gets it, that girl will need all the help she can get. Anything else?"

    Not having any more to do here and having many places to visit before having to report to Nic, Fritz shook his head, thanked Tallie and took his leave. There was always some other time to delve into Sid¡¯s secrets, if he actually wanted to do that. No, she would tell him all in due time if it was important.

    Next on his agenda was returning the cart, which he did after reselling his ropes and paying for someone to smoke the edible parts of shark meat that remained. They would make good rations for the Mer Spire and their high mana content would bolster his general physique as well.

    He reflected that getting his errands done was quite a quick process when he didn''t have to haggle for every copper. More benefits of wealth, he supposed, as if there weren''t enough.

    Within the hour he was back to his hideout, he stashed five of his triads away and got changed, pulling on his finery and grabbing the bundle that was Quicksilver. He was out the door and splashing through the streets making his way towards the Upper Ring without another look back.

    He decided to take the gate as he didn''t want to ruin his good clothes sneaking and scrabbling over the wall. Again he was met with jarring politeness from the drizzlers as they let him through with barely a word.

    "What a difference looking the part makes," he said to himself as he cut through the Upper ring to his true destination which was wreathed in plumes of smoke and steam.

    He wandered into the foggy streets of the Steam District, where most of the blacksmithing and other ''dirty and stinking'' craftwork was done.

    The district was aptly named as the heat of the forges and other fires constantly spewed out billowing clouds of black and grey smoke. The westward wind blew all the terrible air out to sea instead of over the city proper or the other districts.

    After asking around for a bit, he got directions to Anchorwrought Smithy and the general opinion of the qualities of their goods. It turned out to be one of the more reputable establishments so he silently thanked Colette and her suggestion.

    Once he found the place, Fritz walked in through the open door and found himself in a room adorned with dozens of well-made swords, axes and spears. The air inside was hot and positively reeked of iron. There was not a scrap of armour in sight so he assumed this was some kind of specialist weaponsmith''s shop.

    He approached a young, muscled man behind the counter who eyed him with a mixture of anxiety and interest. The short man had pitch-black hair shaved close same as his face.

    "I''m looking for Bruce," Fritz said confidently.

    "Yes, Sir. He''s at the forge for the moment, may I enquire as to what kind of work is needed?" The man said politely as the clanging of a hammer striking an anvil could be heard from a door behind him.

    "Need a hilt and sheath for my Quicksilver," Fritz proclaimed placing the bundle down with a dull thud. "Colette sent me." He added between hammer blows.

    "Did someone say Colette?!" A voice boomed from what Fritz assumed to be the forge.

    Some moments and thudding steps later a short, thick-muscled man with the beginnings of a beer belly trudged up to the counter and looked up and over Fritz. He had a round head and a large nose that had been broken more than once.

    "Colette sent you to me?" He asked with a tone as tough as his trade.

    "If you''re Bruce, then yes," Fritz replied.

    The man wiped sooty sweat off his bald pate and he grimaced.

    "You''re not mine are you?" He hoarsely asked.

    "Gods no," Fritz said aghast.

    "Good, got one too many bastards, don''t need another," Bruce said, his bulging shoulders sagging, presumably in relief. The young man frowned at the smith''s turned back with some resentment in his yellow eyes that were shockingly similar to Bruce''s.

    "What do you need from me?" Bruce asked, rubbing his stubbly chin

    "A hilt for my blade, and a sheath," Fritz said.

    Bruce unwrapped Quicksilver and looked it over with a frown. Surprisingly it wasn''t a frown of distaste or scorn like that of everyone else who beheld it.

    "Strange material," He mumbled drawing a calloused thumb across the jagged edge and looking a little impressed that it cut a thin red line into his skin. "Sharp and toothed, would work well with any bleeding-based strikes."

    "Core looks cracked. But it''s superficial, it''s solid, dense underneath the fractures. Looks almost like an inscribed rune, one carved by a madman," Bruce continued mostly to himself.

    "Where''d you get this?" He asked, his eyes glued to Quicksilver.

    "Mer Spire," Fritz lied proudly, actually quite interested in what the smith had to say about his trusty blade.

    "Never seen anything like this come out of the Mer Spire, or the Rain Spire for that matter," Bruce said finally looking Fritz in the eye and then glancing over his fine garments.

    He raised a questioning eyebrow and Fritz shrugged, saying, "Pulled it off a big swordfish, then it got all melted."

    Nodding once and pressing no further Bruce stated, "It''s a good blade, if it''s from a monster, like you say, then its core is likely able to store and conduct mana better than most unimbued weapons. Definitely a quality Rookie weapon, on the edge of being suitable for a Journeyman Climber."

    "Well thank you for rating Quicksilver so highly, but what do you mean by Journeyman and Rookie?" Fritz asked.

    The young man let out a huff of derision obviously thinking Fritz was an idiot for not knowing such a basic fact.

    Bruce glared at him and said, "Go sweep the forge. George,"

    "But-" George protested.

    "Go now, you misbegotten lout, or you''ll sleep there too," Bruce growled.

    "Yes, Sir," George moped as he shuffled into to forge with a broom.

    Shaking his head and muttering about ingrates Bruce turned back to Fritz and said, "Meaning no offence, Sir, but you should be paying more attention to your tutors."

    Fritz smiled.

    "I have been told that before, but would you humour me?" He asked politely.

    "Sure. Rookie Climbers are roughly categorised as being from level ten to level fifty-nine, then you''re considered a Journeyman at sixty and above."

    "What about Experts?" Fritz asked.

    "Well Rain City has only one Expert and that''s the King, but the requirement for Expert Climbers is level one hundred and eighty," Bruce replied, shuffling a little as if uncomfortable about the subject of the king.

    "Seems a little arbitrary, there''s a world of difference from a level ten to even a level twenty Climber," Fritz commented.

    Bruce shrugged, "I''ve heard it''s more about what kind of Spires you can comfortably climb without a Guide. Minors for Rookies, Lessers for Journeymen, Majors for Experts and so on."

    "Huh, any more classifications I should know about?" Fritz asked with genuine interest.

    "I''m a blacksmith, not a tutor. Didn''t you say you wanted a hilt?" Bruce grumbled.

    "Yes," Fritz said. "Can you do it?"

    "Yes, any particular material you''d like it made of?" Bruce asked.

    "I have some metal monster bones, could you use them?" Fritz inquired.

    "Let''s have a look."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 11

    As it turned out the silver Hound bones were a fantastic material for a hilt and Bruce said so with gusto.

    "Where''d you get moonsilver from?" He demanded before he shook his head and said, "Never mind, don''t want to know I suppose."

    "Oh, it''s moonsilver is it? Never heard of it, what does it do?" Fritz stated, not wanting to seem too overeager lest he let something slip about his own bones.

    "Well it''s sturdier than steel for one, and it has some purification properties which means it''s resistant to rust and acid. I heard it also dilutes poisons that come into contact with it. Which can be useful for armour or jewellery. That and it can be made very sharp, it''s good for...clean cuts," Bruce explained.

    Fritz forced out a chuckle, suspecting that the last comment was some terrible pun, Bert might like the joke though.

    "And as a hilt?" Fritz inquired.

    "It''ll keep your hands safe, some creatures have some nasty blood that can corrode steel or poison you. With moonsilver you won''t have to worry as much from the bloody runoff after stabbing something. That and it looks very nice and I''m sure, Sir, can appreciate that."

    "Hmm," Fritz said pretending to think and letting the man carry on about his obvious passion.

    "I don''t know much about runes but as it''s a magic material it''ll take them far better than normal steel, I think moonsilver is particularly partial to light-based enchantments," Bruce explained.

    ¡°Does it work well with shadow?¡± Fritz asked, a little too quickly. He nearly slapped himself for giving away that he had shadow aligned Abilities.

    Bruce glanced up at the question and a knowing grin stretched over one side of his weathered face.

    ¡°If it were sunsteel or something of the like you¡¯d be outa luck, but moonsilver works well with both. Its one of those odd substances that works well with ephemeral, intangible alignments but doesn¡¯t take well to elemental or physical ones, excepting metal enhancements,¡± Bruce espoused.

    Interesting, Fritz thought.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it can¡¯t be done,¡± Bruce added when he saw Fritz¡¯s pensive look and mistook it for disappointment. ¡°It¡¯ll just be a little more work for the inscriber and the efficiency and power won¡¯t be quite as good as something it¡¯s properly aligned to.¡±

    "Any armourers you''d recommend?" Fritz asked struck with an idea.

    "I can do armour," Bruce offered. "My speciality."

    "Then why isn''t there any displayed?" Fritz asked.

    "Armour''s for wearin'' not displayin''," Bruce stated. "Custom made only, you have to get armour perfect or people die in it."

    "Doesn''t seem to stop other armourers," Fritz said.

    "They produce slop for the desperate," Bruce said with a scowl. "They don''t care if it saves a life or not, only that it''s sold. A little advice, if a craftsman doesn''t put their stamp on their work then they''re not proud of it. And if they''re not proud of it, it''s likely rubbish."

    "Wonderful, can I get the hilt by tomorrow then? I want to be Climbing the Mer Spire by noon," Fritz stated.

    The sweeping in the forge paused for a moment, then resumed.

    "Best I can do is the morning the day after tomorrow, one gold triad due to the rush," Bruce offered.

    Fritz was a little disappointed at the wait but he realised he may be rushing somewhat in his attempt to get stronger as quickly as possible. But he also felt that any moment a part of their ruse could fall apart, that they¡¯d be exposed and Nic would come for them. So they had to act now while there was still some doubt as to the danger they posed to the Nightshark.

    Not that he wanted to hurt the Nightshark¡¯s operations of course but he knew that, eventually things would come to a head, and he better be as ready and powerful as possible.

    Fritz snapped back to the present only to find Bruce staring at him expectantly.

    "That''s fine, day after tomorrow it is," He said with some resignation, reaching for his triad purse. "As for the armour, well, here''s what I want."

    -

    Fritz strode from the smithy feeling much lighter, eleven gold and all his Hound bones lighter to be precise. With a skip in his step, he found his way to a leather worker and bought himself a set of well-made monster hide armour complete with thick leather bracers and a holster for his bone dagger, it set him back another six gold but to him it was well spent. He didn''t want a repeat of the Sunken Spire, wearing only whatever they could cobble together.

    No, he wanted to go in prepared.

    Apparently, the mottled, dark-green monster leather had belonged to some kind of swamp-buck that dwelled on one of the more commonly reoccurring floors of the Rain Spire. Fritz had gone with this particular set over the less expensive and sturdier grey leathers due mostly to the freedom of movement they provided. Being both softer and lighter, they also lessened the strain on his currently overworking muscles and let him sneak around without having to worry about his overly heavy footfalls.

    The dark green didn''t quite match the black of his magic boots, but that was something he could live with, for now.

    While he was wandering the steam district he got to thinking about what else he might need for his next Climb and who would join his team. His immediate ideas were to fill the holes in the roster. With Bert as a Defender and himself as a Scout, they had two of the harder to fill roles covered which means they''d need a Striker and maybe a Controller. They would have to be able to do without a healer, as most teams did with the rarity of healing magic in Rain City.

    Though maybe he was going about this the wrong way, he could always grab some leveless hopefuls and carry them up the Mer Spire. Fritz felt he was strong enough for some dead weight, after all he had completed a Gold Climb, something even the monstrous Nic hadn''t achieved.

    It''s not like they would be useless either. Give them some spears and shields. Bert and I can handle the ''hard'' stuff and have them carry our loot, He mused.

    The more he thought about it the more it made sense to him. He''d have to run it by Bert but he was sure his friend would agree.

    Fritz did, however, get the feeling he was taking advantage of the poor and desperate, just as the gangs did, but he shook that feeling away quickly. They weren''t going to indenture the leveless or hold the tax over their head. That and they weren''t going to force anyone to join them or throw them into a freezing lake for that matter. They were better. They were different.

    His mind made, Fritz went to search for Bert in the Upper Ring to tell him of his plan.

    Whilst making his way towards the gate he ran across a grimy face from just the day before. A stroke of luck or perhaps some strange fate?

    "Fancy running into you again, Carter," Fritz said with a violently polite smile.

    Carter turned, his eyes went wide as he took in Fritz''s immaculate clothes and regal posture.

    "Sir!" Carter spluttered and scraped out the least competent bow Fritz had had the misfortune to lay eyes on. "I, I, didn''t know you were a lord. I''m sorry if I offended you yesterday. Please, have mercy on me."

    "Now, now. That''s all behind us," Fritz said magnanimously, leaning into his naturally noble cadences. "I have an opportunity for you."

    "An opportunity?" Carted said suspicion leaking into his placating voice.

    "Would you like to Climb?" Fritz offered.

    "Climb?" Carter said dumbly.

    "Yes. Climb. Are you a simpleton?" Fritz asked, perhaps leaning a little too hard into his noble persona.

    "No, Sir. I mean yes, Sir," Carter said.

    "Which is it?" Fritz asked with a scowl.

    "I want to Climb," Carter clarified.

    Fritz smiled and broke his facade, not wanting to torture the poor man anymore, "Good, meet me tomorrow at noon, just outside of Tallies Trawler. You know the place?"

    Carter nodded.

    "Right, see you there then," Fritz said and strode off without another look back at the man''s confused expression.

    With at least one new recruit, if the man turned up, and his business in the district done for now Fritz strolled into the Upper Ring with little in the way of objectives. He did however have a vague sense that he should be looking for bargains or other opportunities. He decided to peruse some stores looking for anything he could conceive as useful and considered what would have saved them some hassle and pain on each floor.

    What could of helped them on the first floor? Maybe some better armour and weapons? Flint and steel to light a fire faster? How about on the second? Maybe water? It did seem to run low while we trained. As for the third, nothing but more power and trusty companions would have helped us there.

    Fritz went through his recollections and quickly came to the conclusion that they would need more sacks, packs, bedrolls and blankets along with a lot more healing supplies. He felt that once he had Quicksilver back he wouldn''t require much more in the way of weapons, but a belt of throwing daggers might be a useful addition to his fighting style, he''d ask Bruce about it when he next saw him.

    A crossbow wouldn''t go amiss either, but they were fairly expensive and difficult to reload, requiring diligent maintenance and specialised bolts. That and the bigger ones would be a chore to lug around and the smaller ones could be finicky. Or so he''d heard. One day maybe, he''d get an inscribed or imbued crossbow, but right now he just needed the basics and a couple of tricks.

    Fritz had to avert his eyes whenever he strode past an Inscriber or a Treasure Store. He couldn''t afford their wares, and any good Treasures were usually traded or auctioned away at the King''s Treasury. What was left for these small shops were generally minor Treasures like his boots or anything non-magical made by the Spires like Sid''s bow. As for inscribing, or enchanting, he heard it was a lot of triads for marginal benefit, even if you didn''t just get scammed by one of the more unscrupulous purveyors.

    Still, his curiosity got the better of him and he entered a small, well-kept shop and browsed its ''Treasures." He was somewhat taken aback, the prices were large but not as large as he''d been expecting. His kindled surprise was quickly doused with disappointment as most of the items had very little in the way of useful combat effects.

    Though, there were several things that caught his eye, like a fist-sized hunk of flint that was always warm to the touch, a brown canvas tent that could take on some of the surrounding''s colouring like a painting of shoddy camouflage.

    It could be very useful on a cloak as well and Fritz said so offhandedly to which the clerk following him with her watchful green eyes replied, "That would go straight to the King''s Treasury, they''d pay a good price for it."

    "Got anything useful for a scout?" He asked her while looking over a strange carved stick.

    "What you''re holding there might help a scout," She said. "It''s a Door Dowsing Wand. It finds Doors," She added after seeing Fritz''s inquisitive expression.

    "Really? Wouldn''t the Guides Guild be all over this thing then?" Fritz asked a little incredulous.

    "Sure, if they weren''t only one-use objects, and somewhat imprecise," She agreed smoothly.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    "Should you be downplaying its abilities? Don''t you want to sell it?" Fritz asked.

    She just smiled and tucked a strand of her wavy, dark-brown hair behind her ear and the store''s hired guard merely shook his head and sighed. Apparently this was a regular behaviour.

    "Father''s store?" Fritz asked motioning to the tidy shelves around him.

    "Mother''s," The lady corrected.

    Fritz nodded getting the gist of her situation and making a note of the listlessness in her stance. He looked her over, she was young, but probably older than himself and through her striking, pretty, polite smile, he could see some small envy and bitter annoyance. A doll''s painted smile over cold steel.

    "Ah, I see," Fritz said simply.

    She nodded once but didn''t say another word as he browsed the rest of the store''s contents. He only found a couple more things he was interested in.

    There was a set of paired Message Stones, that for one mana could send one-word messages to its partner. Something that would be wonderful for a scout when they searched ahead of a group, even if it would spend gold like water. Unfortunately, this imbued stone, while a common Treasure, was still out of his price range at one hundred gold triads.

    The next magical item was something he could reasonably afford, at twenty-five gold triads. Though that price felt exorbitant as well. That much gold could easily buy you a set of decent half-plate armour or a shoddy set of full-plate.

    The magical object in question was a pale blue waterskin that had the texture of a frog''s hide and when Fritz asked about it said it would slowly refill itself with fresh water over a couple of hours. The reason such an item was so ''cheap'' she explained was that ''it''s Rain City'' and ''water producing Treasures are as common as thieves in the districts''.

    She wasn''t exactly wrong with her comment about the thieves, but Fritz found her disdain for the districts somewhat irksome.

    The magical flask would solve some of the water problems when Climbing so decided to buy it. Unfortunately, he didn''t have the gold on him at the moment so he¡¯d have to come back tomorrow to get it, that¡¯s if if nothing else caught his fancy.

    "I''m a little light of funds at the moment. I''ll be back tomorrow," Fritz said.

    "I''ll be pleased to have your patronage tomorrow then," She said blandly, but Fritz could tell she found him interesting by the way her eyes glittered. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, she was rather lovely.

    Fritz took his leave and was back in the thoroughfare market looking and listening for Bert.

    He eventually found his friend chatting away with some rough-looking Climbers outside the Ceph outpost and was alarmed by the sight.

    What alarmed him wasn''t the roughness of his company, as he was rough company himself, but rather the transformation his friend had undergone.

    Bert had changed out of his Imbued vest and pants and was wearing a fine black coat with extravagant gold trim, with equally dark trousers, a white shirt, and a golden vest to match the trim. He was clean-shaven and his wild mop had been tamed into silky-smooth waves of gold that reached down to his shoulders.

    Approaching the group circuitously, Fritz listened in on what they were chatting boisterously about. Bert seemed to be listening to some tall tale about an enormous eel; with scales that arced with lightning and whose breath was boiling clouds.

    "How did you slay the beast?" Bert asked eagerly.

    "We didn''t! The Eel would have slaughtered us all! We just ran around its pool, planting spears and ducking behind trees to catch its lightning," A woman with a strange clipped accent explained with a laugh.

    She was tall, blonde and broad, covered with armour of furs and hide and carrying a spear while letting an oval shield rest on her leg as she stood.

    "I lost three of my spare swords!" A small man exclaimed. He had skin darker than any man Fritz had met and was wrapped in some sort of dull-red battle robe with stitched with a yellow swirl over his heart. Instead of a staff or wand, he bore two forearm-length straight swords in brown-scaled sheaths on one hip.

    The last of the rough group was a tan, average-sized man with a wild bushy black beard streaked with grey and cold, cruel, eyes as black as a beetle''s shell. He was also armoured in hides and fur though one of his bared arms was covered in small green tattoos. A litany of lettering written in some script Fritz didn''t know and couldn¡¯t read, the very sight of which made him feel uneasy.

    Those predatory black eyes were first to swivel to Fritz as he strode up behind Bert and clapped him on the shoulder.

    "Bert, my old friend, how are you?" Fritz said as if they hadn''t split up only a couple of hours before.

    "Ah, Fritz, I''m currently enjoying some good company, let me introduce you," Bert said attempting to mimic Fritz''s aristocratic manners. "This is Therima, she''s from the north somewhere near the Ice Spire I presume."

    The woman nodded and her light brown eyes twinkled as she looked Fritz over.

    "And this is Sertine," Bert continued motioning at the swordsman who gave a quick, regimented bow.

    "Pleased to make your acquaintance," He said in a light, rough voice, like he had an endlessly dry throat.

    Fritz returned the bow with a shallow but polite one of his own and Bert turned to the last man, saying, "You''re part of Therima''s team, right? But I don''t think I heard your name."

    "Because I didn''t speak it, whelp," The bearded man growled. If he had fangs Fritz suspected the man would have gnashed them.

    "Vaa''gur, behave, we''re in Rain City," Therima scolded.

    "They''re weak, the Commands-" Vaa''gur began to say before she cut him off with a hard punch to the face and an even harder glare when his hand went to a hatchet looped to his belt.

    He was rocked by the sudden blow but he remained standing and spat a bloody glob into the rainy street.

    "We''re in Rain City," She repeated.

    A shiver went down Fritz''s spine, and he hid his horror as he surreptitiously searched the man and the woman before him for anything¡­ unnatural. He also tried to play it off as if he hadn''t heard or had no idea what the ''Commands'' were, and who followed them.

    Her glare more than her fist seemed to quell the man''s outwardly vicious demeanour and he quieted. Though his eyes never lost their dark fury.

    With a cough, Fritz said his greetings while wisely, pointedly, avoiding engaging the bearded man in conversation and angering him any further.

    The other two of the group were more than enough for good conversation though, Therima was gregarious and Sertine had a mischievous wit. The topic of Spire''s and climbing plans came up quickly as they tended to in most talk with other Climbers. Or at least that''s what he had heard from his father.

    "So, Bert says you''re going to Climb that rookie Spire in a couple of days?" Therima asked, "Got a Guide or have you been up before?"

    "Up before," Fritz supplied. "Only to the second level though," he added keeping their cover close to what they had told Nic.

    "Not even Pathers," Vaa''gur grumbled under his breath while he continued his glare.

    "We were actually looking for more people for our team, would any of you be interested?" Fritz asked with his most ingratiating smile. Thinking that people who looked as tough as these three did would be a great boon to their team.

    "Sadly no," Therima said. "We''ve already got what we could from it. We''re Climbing the Rain Spire soon," She said pulling out a small badge, the size of her thumb, from a pouch and displaying it in all its glittering glory.

    It was made of silver that encircled and outlined a faceted clear teardrop the filled with a blue glow that seemed to encompass clouds, wind, water and sky. Fritz knew that small stone to be a Rainstone one of the premier materials found within the Rain Spire. He''d seen a badge like this before, his father had one and he would often let Fritz look and wonder at it even if he wouldn''t him hold it.

    Bert however had never seen one and with avaricious awe, he proclaimed, "What''s that?"

    "It''s the badge to enter the Rain Spire," Therima said. "Expensive and extremely annoying to acquire, but your ''king'' decrees it must be shown before Climbing. And one must do what a ''king'' says," She added with something of a sour smile.

    "A waste of time," Vaa''gur grumbled. "We''re Journeyman, we don''t need permission to climb a Lesser Spire."

    "This ''king'' is a rather greedy one," The swordsman added "I would have thought him a dragon-kin before one of the merfolk on account of how much he loves his gold and taxes."

    It was the first unkind thing Fritz had heard the jovial Sertine say about anything, so it came as quite the surprise when he did so.

    "Are other kings unlike ours then?" Fritz endeavoured.

    "Not really, but they''re not usually so strict about a measly Lesser Spire," Sertine expanded. "Though, maybe it''s because you''ve only got the two and they''re both weak, that he keeps his grip so tight. How else is one supposed to afford the luxuries from the mainland?"

    Fritz thought that Sertine had a point but didn''t dare besmirch the king as he did. At least not openly. It was one thing for a foreigner to do so, as they were strong and strange, but a local could get in all sorts of strife with a bad word about the king, or his men.

    With casual grace, Fritz attempted to excuse him and Bert from the slightly treasonous conversation. It wasn''t because of the light treason though, no, the ¡®Commands¡¯ comment from earlier still rattled in his mind and had him on edge. He wanted to get as far from Vaa''gur as possible. That and the man stared at him as if he were a hare he''d like to hunt.

    The Climbers accepted his excuses easily, saying that they also had some lunch to grab.

    "Good luck on your climb," Therima said gripping Fritz''s forearm in some sort of warrior''s farewell. Her hand was like an iron vice and he returned the grip as hard as he could, which elicited a wink from the powerful woman. Then she did the same with Bert who seemed to thoroughly enjoy the struggle.

    There¡¯s no accounting for taste.

    In contrast Sertine merely gave them bows which they reciprocated before turning to leave.

    The last of the group ignored them and they him.

    But as he strode away down the street, Fritz could feel Vaa''gur''s eyes on his back. He didn''t look back but increased his pace just in case. Nearly pulling Bert along he ducked into a warm tea shop and led them to an empty table. They sat in the plush chairs and he ordered tea for both of them at random, hoping to be out of the servant''s hearing as soon as possible.

    The other patrons chattered and Bert looked at Fritz quizzically, "Why are we getting tea? Don''t we have better things to do?"

    "Need to talk. Quietly," Fritz explained softly.

    "Couldn''t we talk in the street?" Bert asked, matching his whisper.

    "Perhaps, but I don''t want to be overheard, especially by that Vaa''gur fellow," Fritz said.

    "Why? I know he was a dumb arsehole, but what''s got you spooked?" Bert asked with some concern.

    "They were Krakosi, or at least Therima and Vaa''gur were, and Sertine knew," Fritz said.

    "What!?" Bert burst out before quieting himself. "Krakosi raiders, here? In Rain City?"

    "Vaa''gur mentioned ''The Commands''," Fritz explained.

    "What''s that mean?" Bert asked.

    "Well, my father always said: ''Pay attention to the laws a man follows," Fritz recalled, then intoned a rhyme he had found in some dusty book in his old library.

    "Priests have the scripture, Guides have a code,

    Lenders will always, take back what they''re owed.

    Knights give their oaths, monks take the vows,

    Where ever there''s wealth the thieves will be roused,

    There are many laws that rule minds and lands,

    But only the worst heed the Krakosi Commands."

    "Very pretty, but what''s it mean?" Bert asked with some impatience.

    "Not much really. But the important part is that the Krakosi raiders follow some set of laws they call the ''Commands''," Fritz stated.

    "What are these Commands?" Bert replied apparently interested in something outside of drinking and fighting.

    "I don''t know I''m not a raider, pillager or corrupted monster," Fritz said. "Probably some brutal laws that justify their pillaging, looting and raping. Anyway, they¡¯re trouble, especially Vaa''gur. He was glaring at me the whole time."

    "Maybe he just likes the look of you," Bert said offhandedly, obviously not convinced or that concerned.

    "I don''t think it was that," Fritz said as their tea arrived. Then he paused to sip on the dark, steaming liquid. The feeling of being followed faded and he sighed in relief.

    It wasn''t bad but it wasn''t as good as the tea Colette had provided. Thinking about the clothier, his mind wandered to clothes. He then turned his attention to Bert and complemented his outfit.

    "Thank you, I make quite the fine noble don''t I?" Bert preened as he slurped his tea, getting many dirty looks from the other clientele.

    "More like a rough butler. Or a fancy bodyguard," Fritz informed him.

    "What!?" Bert said as he drank down the last of his tea and exhaled loudly. "What''s giving me away?" He asked earnestly.

    "It''s¡­everything," Fritz stated, motioning vaguely at his friend''s entire being. "Not a shed of dignity or poise. You trudge like a labourer and you slump your shoulders like you''re carrying a sack of squid guts. Smell like it too," he added for good measure.

    "Oh, is that all," Bert said mildly as he sat back and relaxed in his comfy chair. "I''ll work on that then."

    "Speaking of work, what do we tell Nic tonight?" Fritz asked.

    Bert shrugged, "That we want to climb the Mer Spire. That we had the triads stashed away and were waiting on our sixth Toll when we were grabbed."

    Fritz nodded. It was plausible enough, and if they played their cards right Nic might even help them out with some advice or information.

    Fritz relaxed a little, then asked his friend, "Find any recruits?"

    "No, apparently, down in the districts we have a ¡®reputation¡¯. They think we¡¯re mad, can you believe that?" Bert replied, acting offended about something they already knew.

    ¡°How dare they,¡± Fritz stated with a bland smile, playing along.

    He knew that this was likely to be the case, most of the folk down in the districts just didn¡¯t want any trouble, and Fritz always seemed to find himself in trouble. He blamed Bert, the man was a wild wind who couldn¡¯t help but whip up strife.

    ¡°You would think they¡¯d know by now that we¡¯re great geniuses, brimming with untamed excellence,¡± Fritz expounded.

    ¡°You¡¯d think that, but no. They think you¡¯re some kind of shifty, scheming bastard, while I¡¯m your loyal, but rabid, hound,¡± Bert explained with a flash of a grin.

    Fritz suspected as much but smiled, and continued, ¡°Well its their loss. We can¡¯t be blamed for being so far beyond the petty limits of their dull, dreary minds.¡±

    Bert grinned back and after some moments of contemplative silence he asked, ¡°Did you find anyone?¡±

    "Yeah, same guy I had pull that cart around for me, named him Carter," Fritz said lazily.

    "Good name," Bert nodded sagely.

    "And some interesting prospects if my instincts are right," Fritz said. "If not there''s always people outside the Spire who might have last minute problems. Either cold feet or accidental, or not so accidental, injury."

    Bert sipped his tea then and said, "Well I can leave that all up to you. You always were better with people."

    "Hardly," Fritz disagreed. "It must just be the new clothes. People can''t afford to offend a lordling, like I appear to be."

    "True as the rain," Bert agreed. "Very dashing by the way."

    "Thank you," Fritz said.

    They fell into a companionable quiet, enjoying the tea and each others reassuring presence.

    They ordered one more batch of tea each before they left the shop. Mostly to make sure that they wouldn''t run into Vaa''gur, but also because it was actually quite nice to sit and chat for a while like they had nothing to do. Fritz paid with a full gold triad, a mighty bonus for the waitress serving them.

    With resigned sighs they reluctantly got up to go finish their errands then change into something more appropriate for the Bluestone district and the inevitably dingy ''Bitter Ends'' tavern.

    All in all, it had been a great day, Fritz mused.

    -

    All in all, it had been a terrible day, and it was only going to get worse, Nic suspected.

    He sighed wearily, he was really gonna get it from his sister, even though he had told her that the lout was only gonna get hurt in this line of work.

    He had been right. Kev had gone missing, he had finally got himself murdered, if the blood stain covering the stone were anything to go by.

    Nic searched the area for anything that could lead to the killer or killers, but he didn''t look that hard. He didn''t have much in the way of Perception aligned so it would be a task better suited for another.

    If anyone cares, he thought as he ran a hand down his scarred face and peered off into the distance, his eyes drawn to the Sunken Spire, burning as malevolently as it ever had.

    Was this the work of the newest murderer roaming the poor districts? They¡¯d been finding, or rather not finding, many of the more vicious and cruel gangs disappearing. Maimed and mangled judging by the high splatters and sprays of blood left behind in their hideouts and haunts.

    He didn¡¯t feel any grief for those bastards, far from it, as some were slated to be taken care of by himself for some insult or overstep of the Nightshark¡¯s laws. Abyss, the others pushing the boundaries would think it was the underground¡¯s ''justice'' coming for them anyway, so no harm there. But too much chaos and carnage was likely to bring down the attention of the drizzlers, and no one wanted them poking around in the underbelly of the city.

    He hadn¡¯t been tasked to find this massacring menace, yet, but he knew that eventually the order would come down from the Nightshark to put them down.

    Another headache, another chore.

    He rubbed his notched skull, then with a shrug Nic ordered one of his thugs to take the boat back out to the Spire and deal with the clean up too.

    It wouldn''t do to have blood running over and down the cliff, would be bad for morale it would.

    Having places to be, specifically Bitter Ends and hopefully the bottom of a bottle. Nic left for the tavern.

    He had a meeting, with the two levelers that, he hated to admit, had some potential. If they got the right training and experience. And survived, that is. But there had been another problem that had come up when checking their story. When they went looking for that Toby and Jane, he was annoyed to learn that they were currently Climbing the Mer Spire, with the Nightshark''s backing and blessing. So he''d have to wait to have a chat to them.

    It couldn''t be helped, the girl had gained a healing Path and the boy had something like an assassin''s Path, which could both prove very useful to the Nightshark.

    Much like the two idiots he had to meet at dusk, which was soon. Too soon.

    I should talk to them about Kev while I''m at it. They had plenty of reason to do him in too, Nic remembered.

    So many problems all piling up in his lap.

    Another, another, and another.

    Nic spat and stretched his stiff shoulders.

    The walk to Bitter Ends was a blur of routine, through the tunnels, up the trapdoor, into the common room, to the bar.

    "Some of the hard stuff, again, Henry," Nic intoned as he had been doing more often these days. The barman gave him a nod, a glass and a clear bottle of amber liquid.

    With an ache building in his skull and suspicion coiling in his heart, Nic carried his bottle of bitter relief to a secluded booth and sat, waiting.

    Drinking and waiting.

    Those bastards better not be late.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 12

    "Damn it, how are we late?" Fritz complained to Bert as they ran through the darkening, drizzling streets.

    "I dunno, we left early, took the right shortcuts and barely lingered for a few drinks," Bert recounted.

    "I blame the sun," Fritz stated, shaking his fist at the descending bright spot in the clouds.

    "You would, Sir Dusk," Bert replied leaping over a puddle and rushing past the blue-stoned buildings.

    "That''s a great alias, and you can be Sir Dawn. We can be the Twilight Knights," Fritz said, following behind with flowing footsteps, refined by Grace and guided by Awareness.

    "No," Bert replied as they came to a sliding stop in front of Bitter Ends.

    "No?" Fritz asked as he panted slightly.

    "No, I hate it," Bert expounded. "Much too much faerie-tale-nonsense."

    "Fair enough," Fritz agreed, knowing that Bert would come up with his own nonsense in due time.

    He looked at the building, surprised it was actually quite a well-kept and clean establishment, a damn sight less disgusting and rough than he thought Nic''s preferred haunt to be.

    "Let''s not keep the horrible man waiting," Fritz said, but he didn''t move, apprehension stopping his feet.

    "After you," Bert offered.

    "Very well," Fritz agreed before taking a large, centring breath.

    Fritz strode in through the open door into the well-lit common room, dark wooden benches and chairs were arrayed in rows while there was a bar to the right and cushioned booths to the left. Across the room a fireplace burned merrily, shedding a much appreciated warmth.

    The Bitter Ends was definitely not the same kind of rotting dump the thieves and thugs frequented in the desperate district, though here and there he could definitely see the signs of rough living on the patrons. Long scars, missing fingers and hard eyes most among them.

    He guessed he was now due to work with a different kind of criminal entirely, the kind that had survived and thrived. Well, that was unless he could successfully stay hidden, pull off his schemes and eventually get out of the wretched Rain City. With his siblings and Bert in tow, of course, and Sid if she¡¯d come.

    The balding barman gave them a curious look while he polished a glass with a rag.

    Fritz pulled himself from his thoughts and approached the bar confidently, and said, "Looking for Nic."

    The barman nodded and pointed a scarred hand to a booth behind them. Fritz, however, didn''t need the directions because as soon as he spoke he felt anger and ill-intent bear down on his too-exposed back. He turned and walked up to Nic, making sure to let the confidence drain from his strides and letting some fear enter his expression.

    "Sit," Nic ordered thickly, his breath reeking of strong spirits.

    "Sorry we''re late, lost track of the time," Fritz began apologising.

    "Don''t care. Sit," Nic repeated, glancing over both of them with leaden eyes that were somewhat blearier than usual.

    Fritz and Bert sat and Nic poured himself an amber drink from a half-full bottle next to an empty one. Nic glared at them for nearly a minute, taking sips from his glass and letting the heavy silence stretch.

    "No Quicksilver?" Nic asked.

    "No, getting it a hilt," Fritz said.

    "Want a drink?" Nic offered.

    "No," Fritz replied warily, sure something horrible was coming.

    "Want to earn some gold?" Nic asked.

    "Yes," Fritz and Bert said together.

    "Want to steal and fight?" Nic asked.

    "Yes," They said together.

    Nic''s gaze became hard and sharp, "Did you kill Kev?"

    "No," Fritz lied and Bert said.

    He glared at them for another minute, seemingly trying to pull some confession or lie out of them that he could pounce on.

    They were ready for this though, after their time in the Spire deadly contests of strength and will were far easier to endure. What was a looming threat from Nic compared to the hate and hunger of the Hound?

    Fritz sweat, but only as much as he should have, and asked, "Kev''s dead? Did someone take my boots?!"

    "Your boots?" Nic growled.

    "I mean his boots," Fritz corrected. "I uh¡­ just terrible what happened. Just terrible," He added, playing up the greedy-idiot-but-not-a-murderer act.

    It would be suspicious of course if he didn''t mention his prized boots, especially considering how much he had complained about them. He wasn''t wearing them at the moment of course, before this meeting he''d changed into his spare set he had stolen in the Upper Ring.

    Nic scowled but Fritz could see him sag a little. The thug took another swig, finishing his glass and going to pour another. He seemingly thought better of it as he pushed the glass away and started drinking straight from the bottle.

    It was either a good sign or a very bad one.

    "Jobs then," Nic stated. "Bert, there''s a spot open for you in my gang. But you have to do some fighting in the brawling rings first, you up for that?"

    "Yes!" Bert burst out eagerly, not much of it being an act.

    Nic nodded and even smiled for a second until its minuscule warmth was quickly quenched as he turned to Fritz.

    "Fritz, you''re a sneaky one right?" Nic questioned though it sounded more like an accusation.

    "Yep," Fritz agreed.

    "Been burgling the Upper Ring? I heard someone got into some trouble, set off some wards a day or two ago," Nic said slyly.

    "Maybe," Fritz hedged.

    "Then I heard they were captured but somehow talked their way out of being put in the stocks," Nic said.

    "Must be a slippery bastard," Fritz said feeling like a stone was sitting in his gut.

    "He is," Nic said. The quiet stretched on achingly for some moments.

    "Fine, it was me," Fritz admitted. "Don''t know how I set off the ward though, never happened to me before."

    "You got a proper Sanctum now," Nic said. "Don''t know the full ins and outs, but wards are usually made to react to Sanctums. Don''t want alarms blaring or birds blowing up because they stepped on a ward," He explained with a grim chuckle.

    "Yes, that would be... messy," Fritz agreed but it still didn''t quite explain why the ward''s reaction was so delayed. Another question for later, and not for Nic.

    "And expensive," Nic said. "But we''re getting off track. I''m gonna stick you with a friend of mine, does a lot of ¡®night work with a side of knife work¡¯. As he puts it. He can show you the finer points of being a cowardly, sneak thief."

    Fritz nodded and Nic relaxed further, seemingly content that they weren''t complaining about being told what to do.

    "Although," Fritz began and Nic stared pointedly at him. "Me and Bert are thinking of climbing the Mer Spire the day after tomorrow."

    "You are? So soon after the ''horrifying'' last one?" Nic asked flatly.

    "Yes," Fritz replied. "You said it''s easy compared to the...other Spire." He added with an almost preformative shiver.

    Nic considered his words and shrugged.

    "And you can pay the fee?" He asked.

    "We had some triads stashed and Fritz was able to...find some more," Bert explained.

    Nic nodded, took a long swig from his bottle and thought.

    "Alright, that''s fine, be back here within two weeks," Nic said. "It''ll get your Paths if nothing else. And we won''t have to pay for it."

    "And if you do well enough you might get invited to meet the Nightshark," He added as an afterthought.

    The comment froze Fritz''s guts. Damn it! Just what we are trying to avoid, he yelled inwardly.

    But keeping up his act he smiled wide and pretended to be excited about the prospect.

    When it seemed the scarred man was done with them and their meeting Fritz began to stand.

    Nic stopped him with a gesture, stared him in the eyes and said, "Don''t join up with any guilds or Ceph for that matter. And no Guides. Secrets must be kept secret."

    Fritz nodded vigorously, "Of course, not a word out of our mouths will be about¡­ you know what."

    "Good, ''cause the Nightshark will know. They always know," Nic intoned darkly, glancing, only for a blink, at a rat scratching at its scales as it perched on the windowsill outside.

    "Now get out of here. I''m sick of your too-pretty face, and your idiotic grin," Nic ordered.

    Fritz and Bert complied quickly getting up and leaving the tavern in a suitably obsequious scramble.

    Bert was about to speak but Fritz shook his head and held his finger to his lip in a shushing gesture. He understood and nodded, following Fritz to somewhere where they couldn''t be overheard.

    They reached Fritz''s hideout in about forty minutes, and only when they were up in the loft and had searched for any listeners did Fritz and Bert begin to speak.

    "That was a close one," Bert sighed, seemingly surprisingly weary. They had been up for nearly two days, it would drag on even someone with high Endurance like Bert.

    "Not that close, but it doesn''t seem like he suspects us. I wonder why that is," Fritz mused.

    "Maybe it''s the murders," Bert said with a yawn.

    "What murders?" Fritz asked.

    "Just talk of some of the nastier gangs going missing," Bert said.

    "Oh, well, that has nothing to do with us so we might as well let her have all the credit," Fritz said offhandedly. Though he felt a small shiver run down his back.

    "No arguments here," Bert agreed with another yawn.

    "Sleep?" Fritz asked.

    "Yeah, mind if I sleep here?" Bert asked, slumping down in the bed of rags and laying his head on Fritz''s pillow without waiting for an answer.

    "Go ahead. Make yourself at home," Fritz said blandly.

    "Thanks. Goodnight, Sir Dusk," Bert said with a grin before falling asleep almost immediately.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Fritz tore away a spare blanket from his bed but smiled at his blood brother then he took a place by the rattling window rafters.

    He didn''t want to sleep just yet, he just knew there would be a new face added to his nightmares. One with bloodshot, bulging eyes, and lank greasy hair. He was so tired, but even so he sat still and watched the night. He wished he had a book, maybe he should¡¯ve kept ¡®The Observations¡¯ for longer, thoughts of that small journal inevitably led to thoughts of Sid. He wondered where she was, and though they only spent a week in the Spire together, he missed her.

    Soon, without even knowing it, he was lulled to sleep by the gentle hammering of the rain.

    -

    Fritz slept terribly, and he couldn''t even blame Bert''s sleep talking, no it was nightmares, again.

    Could he ever be free of them?

    Dawn was breaking and Bert was up, stretching his steadily growing muscles, Fritz looked on enviously, wondering when he''d get muscles like that.

    With a sigh he stood, he had nothing pressing save his agreement to meet up with Carter at noon so he decided to find something to do.

    "Bert, what''s the plan for today?" Fritz asked his friend.

    "Hmm, breakfast, then more shopping for me, but I need to get more stuff from the stash, didn''t have all the gold I need," Bert said, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

    "Ah, actually I may need to get some gold too, commissioned something and I should get the full amount to the smith," Fritz said.

    "Oh, did you?" Bert asked. ¡°It¡¯s the same for me, what are you getting made?¡±

    "Oh, you know. A surprise," Fritz said, unwilling to share.

    "Never mind that then," Bert said, sensing Fritz''s obstinacy and leaving the matter be. "Let''s get some piping hot squid pies then let''s get our gold, I''ll need you to open the safe anyway."

    "Before we go we should do something about these packs," Fritz suggested.

    "What''s wrong with them?" Bert asked.

    "Oh, nothing. It just would raise some suspicion carrying identical packs that bare more than a passing resemblance to Sid''s," Fritz stated. "Honestly, I should''ve thought of it before but there was so much to do. But what''s done is done."

    Bert looked over the traveller''s packs with some annoyance. "Disguise?" He asked.

    "Disguise," Fritz agreed.

    With that they painstakingly covered over the packs with sheets of thin leather and cloth Fritz had scattered about his hideout. They haphazardly stitched the odd assortments into place, making sure not to damage the precious packs.

    When it was done and the two pack''s distinguishing features were hidden they shouldered the ugly things.

    With a nod from Fritz, they set off, side by side.

    The pies were a warm respite in the cold morning drizzle, chewy and salty, they ate them heartily, slurping up the slightly inky gravy as it dripped from their lips.

    After breakfast, and with food brought to his attention Fritz remembered the shark flesh he had paid to get smoked. So they returned to the docks, paying the copper triad toll, and retrieved the strips of shark meat from a man and his smokehouse.

    He tested the taste, just to know what they were in for in the Spire. He was delighted. It was actually quite good. Well, not exactly ''good'' but a whole lot better tasting than the various other monster meats he had eaten.

    While it was a little chewy, once it had a little moisture, it was flaky and decidedly salty and smoky in a pleasant way. It did have that peculiar metallic aftertaste though, like you''d been sucking on a copper triad. Thankfully it wasn''t at all gritty. Unlike the swordfish.

    Whether shark was just a better meat for this or whether the smoker''s skills made the difference, it was tough to say, but he appreciated the welcome change nonetheless.

    They rapidly stacked their disguised packs with the strips of preserved fish and with a thank you and a small tip of silver to the smoker, they left to visit their stash.

    Retrieving their gold was done at their leisure, and without issue, taking forty more gold triads each and also secreting their golden seed¡¯s inside the, now hollowed out, soap bars in his shaving kit. Which was then wrapped tightly in oilcloth and placed at the bottom of Fritz¡¯s pack. They would definitely want them during the Climb.

    Fritz was surprised at the rate they¡¯d been spending, now they only had around twenty triads left in the safe, and the rest of the bull¡¯s heart. He would¡¯ve thought the huge sum of close to two-hundred gold might last them for at least a year, even if they lived lavishly. But it had been a week, no less than a week, and they had already emptied out most of their starting one-hundred-and-eighty triads.

    He supposed that¡¯s what you had to spend if you wanted to be prepared, if you wanted to survive. Climbing was turning out to be wildly expensive and made all the more difficult by the King¡¯s Spire taxes and fees. He cursed the King silently.

    He wondered if they should just take the rest of the gold now, but the cautious, conniving sneak thief in him wanted to keep it stashed.

    He just kept thinking; What if we¡¯re found out? Shaken down again by Nic? Or worse the Nightshark.

    In the end his caution won, but barely. If everything they had, even their shirts and their shoes, at least they¡¯d have something to bounce back with. It would still be a terrible blow, but not a deadly one.

    With a resigned sight he closed the safe, but not before Bert took the last of the dull amber glowstone¡¯s from its depths and placed it in his pack. With a nod that said he was done, Bert let Fritz close the safe and the false wall. Then they were off.

    Once they had snuck back to the desperate district they split up. Bert headed back to the Upper Ring while Fritz decided to pay Naomi a visit. Maybe she''d join the team, and if not she and her sister did sell remedies like the healing grease.

    Venturing down the alleys and walking alongside the gutters, Fritz eventually came across the stalled-lined street that was the desperate district''s equivalent of a local market. Making his way to a medium-sized stall on the outskirts he found himself standing in front of a table full of small tins, draughts, flasks and vials with a few bundles of twine-bound herbs here and there.

    He waited as the dark-haired, pretty woman under the stall''s covering talked with an older woman and her husband. The old lady asked for something to ease his joints while he grumbled he didn''t need such remedies and he''d be fine. Eventually, the old couple were gone with an ointment as no small amount of chiding and chattering.

    The stall¡¯s owner then turned to Fritz as he patiently waited and perused the remedies and reagents.

    "What''s ailing a young man like you?" She asked brusquely. "Can''t sleep? Can''t eat? Achy feet? Itchy bits? My remedies can help with those. But if you''re looking for a mender for a broken heart you better look elsewhere. Try a brothel," She rapidly recited without much heat as if this was a standard slew of talk to get the local men to leave her be.

    "A brothel? What? So I can end up back here in need of a powder for itchy bits?" Fritz said with false offence and a sly smile that said he didn''t mean it.

    She smiled back mischievously, "So one dose of the powder then?" She asked.

    "No, no nothing like that. I''m looking for Naomi, I presume you''re her sister, Ame?" Fritz said ingratiatingly.

    Ame''s smile disappeared in an instant.

    "Leave," She stated.

    "Vee said I should see her," Fritz explained holding his hands up defensively. "Said she''d probably like to know I''m alive."

    "Did she?" Ame said suspiciously, her turquoise eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

    "Fritz," He stated.

    Her eyes went wide with shock, "Liar. You''re meant to be dead, stuck on a locked floor," She said sharply.

    "Ah, well... It wasn''t as fatal, or as locked, as it was to be believed," Fritz said modestly. "But I digress, I''ve come to see Naomi. Vee said she took the death, my death, hard."

    "She did," Ame said sadly, then with an angry glance she continued. "This better not be some sick game. You better be who you say you are, or there''s going to be a whole lot of hurt waiting for you. And you don¡¯t want to piss off an alchemist. We can make things...Unpleasant."

    "I am who I say am, if you tell her I''m here she can vouch for herself," Fritz said confidently.

    "Very well," Ame said turning and walking into the small, wooden house behind her stall.

    After a minute, she exited and Naomi followed.

    She looked how he remembered, pretty and small, except she now had dark bags under her bottle-green eyes and her black hair''s green streak was absent, replaced with dark purple.

    When Naomi saw Fritz her light brown skin paled further and after pushing past her sister she began to run to him. Expecting another hug, like the last time they''d seen each other, Fritz stretched his arms out wide. Only to be surprised, when she instead snatched up a clay flask off the table, unstoppered it and splashed him with some clear liquid that glittered with flakes of silver and stank of garlic.

    Fritz coughed at the pungent smell and began hacking as he backed into the rain to wash the awful substance off him.

    "What was that for?!" He spluttered.

    "Just making sure you weren''t a ghost," Naomi said numbly.

    "Well, I''m not," Fritz protested, wiping at the glittering stain.

    Naomi dropped the flask on the table, then ran at him in truth, beaming brightly as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and tight. He was about to reciprocate the hug when she suddenly gagged and pushed him away.

    "You stink," she cried, her features scrunched.

    "Who''s fault is that?" Fritz asked incredulously.

    ¡°Yours! You can¡¯t go dying, then coming back like nothing happened,¡± Naomi said, tears starting to run down her cheeks. ¡°Especially after, after...after we left you.¡±

    He didn¡¯t know if the tears were of happiness, guilt or anger, but he felt impressions of each roiling around her, fighting to be heard.

    ¡°It was my choice to make and a promise I meant to keep,¡± Fritz said a reassuring smile stretching his face. ¡°I¡¯m glad you''re okay.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you''re okay too,¡± Naomi whispered.

    They stood apart. For some long awkward moments, Ame looking on anxiously as if she wanted to help somehow, but didn¡¯t know what to say.

    Fritz coughed. "Does that stuff even really work on ghosts?" He asked.

    "Sure," Naomi hedged, with a glance to her sister who nodded.

    "You don''t sound too convinced," Fritz observed.

    "All of our remedies and potions work," Ame pronounced proudly.

    "That''s good to hear because I''m planning a Climb up the Mer Spire, and I need a lot of healing grease. Nine tins if you would," Fritz said, moving the conversation to business and away from the awkwardness.

    "Why would you need so much? Do you really expect to get that hurt that often? Again?" Naomi asked nervously, wiping her tears away with her sleeve as Ame immediately began to gather the tins.

    "Merely a precaution," Fritz lied. "Say I don''t suppose either of you would like to join? We are missing some team members."

    Naomi shuddered and shook her head vigorously. "No. No climbing, not again," she said.

    "I''ve got a stall and a sister to mind but thank you for the invitation," Ame said smoothly.

    Fritz nodded solemnly. It seemed that most who survived the Sunken Spire had very little desire or will to try Climb again. Fritz didn''t think it was a flaw of character, if anything they were the more normal ones, happier to survive without taking the absurd risks Fritz and Bert were.

    It made sense, the Spires were deadly and people with less had fewer chances to get lucky and far fewer protective measures. They just didn¡¯t have the armour, defensive Treasures or potions to help them survive as the wealthy and well connected could. Many a Climber from humble or even less humble beginnings could die in an instant, by monster, mistake or just bad luck.

    Still, Fritz felt as if he had no choice but to keep climbing, keep the momentum going in case he began to flounder and stagnate in his own petty desires. He needed the power, for his family¡¯s and his own sake. For an escape from the poverty and the helplessness. An escape from the chains that prevented him from following his dreams.

    Naomi said something, shaking him out of his bitter inner tirade against Rain City, and himself.

    "What was that?" Fritz asked turning his attention back to the young alchemist.

    "I said you should probably get some water-breathing potions too, water aligned Spires are notorious for having submerged floors and chests. Can make them a lot easier," she repeated, sounding like her mood had improved considerably from only moments before.

    She must like her alchemy, Fritz supposed.

    "That''s a fantastic idea, any other suggestions?" Fritz asked, "And don''t say powder for itchy bits, Ame''s already suggested that."

    Naomi gave a sly smile and a cute laugh then started hawking her wares like any seasoned merchant.

    Watching her wrap and bundle the various goods, Fritz smiled while listening to her suggestions.

    In the end, he ended up with nine tins of healing grease; a sealed jug of water-breathing potion good for twelve three-hour doses; three vials of generalised anti-toxin; six ''vigour'' pills; a bottle of warming liquor infused with herbs; and a flask of supremely slippery nonflammable-oil.

    "Give me one of those ghost potions too," Fritz added as he piled the things into his pack.

    "Sure thing, going to fight ghosts?" Naomi asked.

    "Not likely, just want to be prepared for all I can be. Unlike last time," Fritz replied. "That and I can always pour it on Bert if he gets too annoying."

    "A wise use, but I thought that''s what the oil was for," Naomi giggled.

    "What are you suggesting? I have never been so scandalised," Fritz said blandly as if he were bored by the subject.

    "Nothing," She said, her cheeks colouring slightly.

    "All told this will cost you four silver, and three copper triads," Ame said expectantly holding out a cupped palm.

    "What? No saved-your-sister discount?" Fritz protested while fishing out a triad from his heavy purse.

    "Fine, three silvers," she said begrudgingly at Naomi''s glare.

    Fritz smiled and placed a gold triad into hand.

    Ame goggled at the triad for a moment then rapidly slipped the gold into her apron''s front pouch.

    She beamed widely, her smile almost identical to her younger sister''s.

    "Come back anytime. Perhaps you''d like to take Naomi to dinner?" Ame asked sweetly.

    "Ame!" Naomi said aghast.

    "Or me for that matter if Naomi is so opposed," Ame continued, brushing a stray strand of black hair from her face with a slight fluttering of her eyes.

    Fritz laughed and waved her off, "Sorry, I have places to be at the moment, my calendar is quite full you see, what with my upcoming Climb."

    Ame pouted but it didn''t look at all genuine.

    He shouldered his quickly filling, ugly pack, and with his errands done and noon soon approaching, he said his farewells. Promising to visit again when time permitted.

    Fritz waved once more before setting off to meet Carter by Tallies.

    He arrived early, but it seemed Carter had arrived even earlier, and was pacing and muttering something to himself as if rehearsing what to say to his beneficent benefactor.

    Not wanting to alarm the man Fritz strode forth to where the man had stopped briefly by an alley, and heard a higher voice say to the man, "Calm down, being all jittery isn''t going to help."

    Fritz then noticed a short person, hooded and cloaked, who leaned stiffly against a wall, trying to put an air of unconcern. He suspected it was a woman by her high pitch and slight build but he couldn''t be sure at just a glance.

    "That''s right, calm down. No need to fear," Fritz said and they both jumped, the hooded woman''s hand going to an iron dagger tucked in her weathered belt.

    He hadn''t actually meant to scare them, he supposed that in the shadow of the tavern, he had inadvertently been using Cloak of Dusk while striding up to them. But to them, it must''ve seemed that he appeared out of nowhere.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you sneak up on us!¡± The woman near screeched.

    "Again, calm," he said holding his hand away from his sheathed dagger. "Just an Ability I forgot to Suppress."

    "Oh, it''s you," Carter sighed in relief. "You scared the ink out of me."

    "Tis I," Fritz agreed. "And who''s this? Weren''t planning on jumping me were you?" Fritz asked with a confident smile that said he wouldn''t have any trouble killing them if they were.

    "No, of course not," Carter said quickly.

    Fritz could hear the ring of truth in his words so he let him continue.

    "This is my sister, Rosie," Carter said. This statement felt less true but not entirely false. "I wondered if you needed more people for your Climb. So I brought her along, just in case you were feeling generous," He added with a hopeful smile.

    Fritz gave the pair a thoughtful look, then nodded, "I suppose I could use a spare if one of you gets cold feet. Got any skills?"

    "I can stab and sneak," Rosie said.

    "Wonderful, you''ll fit right in," Fritz said.. "Right, well, let''s go get you two some gear. You''re not going into a Spire in those rags on my watch."

    Fritz spun on his heel and motioned for his new recruits to follow. After a moment they shook off their surprise and quickly obeyed.

    He led them to the steam district, asking them a couple of questions as he did. It seemed that their tale was much the same as many an urchin. They were orphans left to struggle and scrape by doing menial labour or ''odd jobs'' when occasion demanded it. Fritz sympathised having lived in the slick streets and the cold gutters himself, even if he hadn''t been born there.

    Still, it seemed that they''d lived hard and would probably be suited for the cruelties of a Climb, even if he just needed them to carry the bags and packs.

    First, he got them some proper clothes, rugged labourers linens, then outfitted them with some boiled leather armour to fit over the top.

    This forced Rosie to remove her hood, and Fritz knew why she kept it on. She was ugly, her pond-scum-coloured eyes bulged too much from her oddly shaped brow and her crooked, previously broken, nose jutted over thin grey lips. Her hair hung lank and dark the black-green of seaweed.

    Fritz smiled at her just the same when she asked Carter how she looked in her new clothes and she seemed surprised that neither made some brutal observation.

    "Not gonna call me frog face in front of the ''lord'' I see," She said scathingly to Carter.

    "He wouldn''t dream of it," Fritz said. "Now let''s get you two some weapons."

    "Can I have an axe?" Rosie asked.

    "What? Can you even lift one?" Carter asked exasperated.

    "Once I¡¯m level one, I could," she argued.

    They began to bicker all the way to Anchorwrought Smithy. At first, Fritz found it endearing, reminding him of his own crew, but it soon got on his nerves and he asked them, politely, to cease their speech, forever.

    While the two now whispering recruits looked over the weapons on display, Fritz made his way to the counter and the young apprentice who manned it.

    "I have the rest of the commission fee," Fritz told the man who glanced over his shoulder and listened.

    The clanging in the forge was muffled by the heavy door but there was a definite rhythm going, one the apprentice seemed loath to interrupt.

    "You can leave it with me," the young man said.

    Fritz nodded and handed over ten gold triads, "I''m also looking for sturdy weaponry for first-time Climbers, any suggestions?" He asked the man who took the gold and quickly locked it away in a lockbox beneath the counter.

    "First time? Which Spire?" The apprentice asked with interest.

    "Yes, we''re Climbing the Mer Spire tomorrow, once Quicksilver is ready," Fritz stated.

    "Well, you can''t go wrong with spears and shields then a sidearm, like a shortsword," The man explained.

    Fritz nodded, it''s basically what ''The Observations'' suggested too but it was good to get a second opinion, one preferably from someone living and not from a centuries-old book.

    "Grab a spear, shield and a shortsword," he told his recruits over his shoulder.

    "Can I get an axe?" Rosie asked again, "A small one?" she added.

    "He''s already paying for us to go in and get equipment, why are you pushing on his generosity? Do you want him to ditch us?" Carter hissed.

    "Get a hatchet instead of a shortsword then, Carter you want to swap out your sidearm?" Fritz offered magnanimously.

    Carter shook his head.

    "You''re paying these two to Climb?" The apprentice asked, having somehow overheard and seeming exceedingly interested in the prospect.

    "A small sponsoring, need people to carry my bags, or fend off a monster or two," Fritz said

    The apprentice listened to the forge again furtively, then asked in a low voice, "Do you have any room for an extra hand?"

    Fritz gave the man an appraising look. The apprentice appeared strong, both bigger than Bert and a little taller. His head and face were shaved bald like his master.

    "George right?" Fritz confirmed.

    George nodded eagerly.

    "What''s stopped you so far?" Fritz asked also lowering his voice.

    "No team, no gold," George replied.

    "You want me to sponsor you too?" Fritz asked.

    George''s muscular shoulders shuffled awkwardly and he nodded. "You won''t need to get me any equipment though, I have a full set of armour and weapons. Made them myself."

    Fritz took a moment to think it over. With George along there would be five of them, much easier to find one last Climber than two. And the more people the more wealth could be carried back. That and he didn''t have to buy the man his gear so he felt he didn''t have much to lose. Save the one gold Spire tax.

    "Sure, Mer Spire, noon tomorrow," Fritz stated and held out his hand to shake.

    George took it and shook it roughly a wide grin spreading across his face.

    "Thank you, you won''t regret it," He said.

    "I think you''re right."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 13

    Fritz left the smithy with Rosie and Carter, who now looked like proper Climbers to be. He ordered the armed and armoured pair to follow him to his hideout, where he left them by the door and attired himself in his fine coat, pants and shirt.

    Rosie''s eyes bulged further when she saw him again, in all his splendour, her doubting, derisive demeanour changing into one of complete acceptance and no little awe.

    "Come, I have one more purchase to make. Leave behind the shields and spears though, they''ll just get in the way," Fritz said, leading the two out into the street and toward the Upper Ring.

    Paying another toll at the gate, this time for three, Fritz started to complain out loud, "I swear I''ve paid at least a silver just going to and from the districts and the docks over the past week. How does the common worker even manage the cost?"

    "Some nobles or guilds will buy passes for their labourers," Carter supplied. "Cuts the costs down and speeds things up."

    "Is that so?" Fritz asked, somewhat startled by the revelation and cursing the holes in his knowledge.

    "Yeah, I had a job like that once, out on the docks," Carter said. "Until a crate went missing and I was blamed. Lost my pass and job then and there without a second look from the warehouse clerk," He added bitterly.

    "Hmm, so you tried honest work before becoming a mugger, how righteous of you," Fritz said, letting some approval coat his tones.

    Fritz himself had tried that but had learned the hard way that the world wasn''t fair, especially to orphans. And double especially to orphans with a ''fancy accent'' that he still hadn''t quite shaken off fully.

    People had always expected the worst from him, and somehow despite his diligence, they would always be vindicated in their expectations. Always some small thing to dock his agreed upon pay; or some large thing to deny him triads at all, then there was a fine or fee on top for good measure. At that point he¡¯d be paying for the ¡®privilege¡¯ of working.

    "I wouldn''t say it was honest, I think I was working for a smuggler in any case," Carter admitted.

    Fritz shrugged, "You tried. I suppose, which is more that can be said for some."

    "I also tried," Rosie piped up. "Tried to be a seamstress and a fisherman, a labourer and a cook, I''ve tried my hands at everything, ''cept whoring. But that''s ''cause Callum couldn''t bear the shame. If his sister sold herself, even if it''s easy work."

    Carter shook his head. "It''s not about shame, ain''t no shame in it. Work is work, but you could get hurt when you¡¯re on your own. That and the brothels wouldn''t take your ugly mug, no matter how much you begged."

    "I didn''t beg!" Rosie protested. "They''re just too picky."

    "Wait.. your name is Callum?" Fritz asked before they could break into more bickering. "Then why have you been letting me call you Carter this whole time? Are you trying to trick me? Are you running some scheme?" He ranted while hiding his mirth at the man''s confused and conflicted face.

    "I told you the first time-" Carter began.

    "So you did, but I like Carter better! So let''s keep it at that, or will you continue this mutinous attitude?" Fritz said, cutting the man off and wagging a finger at him as they walked.

    Rosie chortled and snorted with barely suppressed laughter. While Carter shook his head vigorously and said, "No, Sir, no mutiny here."

    "Good, good," Fritz said jovially as he led them through the clean streets of the Upper Ring.

    They gawked and stared at all the mild opulence, the tidily dressed commoners, the passing rain-shielded carriages, the horses in raincoats that pulled them and the wealthy merchants or nobility within.

    Fritz wondered what kind of expressions they''d wear if they ever saw the Palace Ring or the noble''s estates inside and encircling it. He smirked just thinking about it.

    After some minutes of walking through the busy streets of the Upper Ring, they came upon an establishment that suited his needs.

    "Ah, just in here, we need some bags, packs and bedrolls." He added motioning to a general Climbing goods store.

    They were in and out again within nine minutes, buying each of them and himself some more packs, sacks, a blanket and a bedroll. He decided against rations as he already had his own, smoked strips of armoured shark that would be far more filling and mana-dense than anything this store had to offer.

    He also avoided having to shell out more silver for more rope as he still had his dark rope from the Spire and the grappling hook from the Treasure recovery plan, even if they still smelt somewhat of shark guts.

    The last stop was the Treasure store from yesterday. Fritz wavered on whether or not to take the two in with him but upon seeing how eager and excited they were he decided to bring them in, just to look.

    "Don''t touch, that is to say, don''t steal anything," Fritz warned them. "It''ll all be warded."

    "We know that," Rosie whined.

    "Just making sure," Fritz said as he entered the store. The small silver bell above the door tinkled and he strode in with an air of confidence.

    He quickly found the water flask again but also perused the shelves, looking for the other things he found useful. With some dismay, he noticed that the Message Stone was missing. It had been on his list of wants and had been wondering if he should''ve asked Bert for part of his share of gold so he could acquire it. Alas, it had been bought by another.

    He walked up to the counter and the bored woman behind it set down a book she was reading, one seemingly about a gallant faerie knight by its title: "The Tests and Trails of Black-furred Banneret". It was one Fritz hadn''t read before, something that piqued his interest.

    "Is that a particularly rare book? I can''t say I''ve seen a faerie tale with that title before," He asked.

    "Rare? I''d say so, don''t think there''s another copy of this in the whole city. Save perhaps the King''s personal library," She replied smoothly.

    "Lucky you, I''m envious," Fritz complimented with a charming smile.

    "Sure," She replied, obviously suppressing the urge to roll her yellow-green eyes at him. "What does the distinguished Sir need?"

    Fritz decided to change tact, he suspected she had to deal with plenty of callers and cads who would come in just to court her. She was quite striking, if not beautiful, with her lustrous, shoulder-length brown hair and eyes that reminded Fritz of a cat.

    She must be sick to death of the fawning and foppery, so my usual demeanour won''t do, he realised.

    He dropped many of the extravagant mannerisms he put on to confuse or charm his marks.

    "Just wanted the re-filling waterflask," Fritz said.

    "Very well," She replied. He waited for a moment expecting her to go get the item.

    "Gold first," She continued with an expectant stare.

    Fritz handed the twenty-five triads over trying not to wince as he placed them down. She counted them in an instant and swept them into a lockbox that flashed with white runes and closed itself quickly before she put it back beneath the counter. It was almost like a snapping turtle, Fritz mused, feeling somewhat bad for the clerk. He had noticed her slight wince as it clacked closed and the way she idly rubbed her fingers as if remembering some long forgotten pain.

    She stepped out from her place behind the counter and walked briskly to the shelf that held the flask, plucking it off its perch. She returned just as quickly handing the Treasure and a small brown paper card to him with a smile.

    "Do you know how long it works before needed to be recharged with gold?" Fritz asked idly.

    "It''s all on the card," She said.

    Then at Fritz''s waiting gaze, she sighed and said "About a week, or more like nine days."

    "Well, thanks," Fritz said and he turned to leave.

    "Don''t know why you''d ever want a water-producing Treasure in Rain City," She scoffed quietly to herself.

    "Less water to carry or search for in the Spire," Fritz said easily.

    "Ah, I see. Your planning a Climb then?" She asked politely, seemingly a bit embarrassed he had heard her talking to herself, that and she was covering up her rudeness.

    "Indeed, the Mer Spire," Fritz said. "Leading a bunch of leveless through with my friend," He added as if it were some great charity.

    "I see," She replied.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Getting an odd feeling of nervousness and fluttering of desire from the woman, Fritz stared her in the eye. He got the impression that the desire wasn''t one of sensual passions but more one that was akin to his own, a craving for freedom and adventure.

    It seemed she wanted to ask something, but instead broke the sudden eye contact and glanced at the listening guard. She rapidly turned back to her book, propping it in front of her face and hiding behind its white leather cover.

    Fritz leaned on the counter bringing his head closer and asked in a low voice, "Would you like to Climb? I happen to need a sixth member."

    A curious eye poked over the book and she whispered back, "Do you have a Guide?"

    "No," Fritz said with a sigh. "But you get more of the shares without one," He added

    "Doesn''t that make it more dangerous though?" She asked hesitantly.

    "Maybe. But what is life without a bit of risk and adventure," Fritz proclaimed quietly.

    She seemed to think about it for some moments before she sagged a little and said, "I can''t. Mother won''t let me or give me the gold, says I have to earn it or a husband first."

    "If gold''s the obstacle, then I can sponsor you. All you''d need is your own gear, have you got that?" he asked conspiratorially.

    Her head tilted in a tiny nod.

    "Noon, tomorrow, Mer Spire," Fritz stated. "Don''t be late," He added with his most dashing smile.

    Her head tilted again in what may have been a nod or a shake of the head, he wasn''t certain. What he was certain of was the excitement radiating off her shoulders and a slight trembling in her hands.

    With that, he gathered his new water flask, slipped the accompanying card into a coat pocket and led his other two recruits away in search of one last thing.

    A Seed Refinery.

    If he could get the Aberrant Seed refined or even just identify what Abilities or Traits it contained he would feel much more secure in gaining useful Abilities from his Climb. He had only a small worry that the Powers offered in the Mer Spire wouldn''t be useful to his current kit but one couldn''t be too careful. It was always best to have a backup plan if things went awry, as they so often did.

    When he entered he surreptitiously asked the store''s clerk what it would cost to have a Seed refined. He was told it was dependent on the Seed. That wasn''t much help so he asked for an overview.

    To which the clerk replied, "Stop wasting my time."

    "Fine, what is the lowest price you require to refine a seed?" Fritz tried one last time.

    The clerk sighed.

    "For a Minor Aberrant Seed, it could be from anywhere from two hundred gold to six hundred gold, depending on the Abilities, Traits or Strains in question." The clerk explained wearily.

    "That much?!" Fritz blurted out.

    "The reagents and inscriptions that go into making a refinery run can get expensive," The clerk said as if tired of justifying the cost. "And it''s not like the process isn''t worth it. A refined seed could run for thousands if not tens of thousands of gold if it''s Power is rare, useful or synergistic enough."

    Somewhat disappointed that he had no means to refine the Hound''s Aberrant Seed, Fritz left the store resigned to hiding the Seed in his safe later. Even though he knew that this was the most likely outcome he couldn''t help but feel a little cheated.

    Fritz shrugged off his slight setback, he could always refine it after this climb anyway, it wasn''t going anywhere. For now the Seed would have to lie uselessly at the bottom of his pack under all that smoked shark.

    "Why did you go into the Refinery?" Carter asked. "Got an Aberrant Seed?"

    "What? No," Fritz lied. "I wanted to know the current costs involved in case we find an Aberrant Beast in the Mer Spire. I want to be able to correctly judge the merits of hunting such a thing against the reward," He added as a poor explanation.

    The pair looked at each other, suspicion etched on their faces. Perhaps he shouldn''t have brought these two along for this particular errand. Well, what''s done is done.

    "My business is finished in the Upper Ring and our preparations are complete," Fritz said. "Let''s get something to eat, then a couple of drinks at Tallies."

    With the prospect of a free meal, their doubt was buried by hunger and they followed eagerly.

    Fritz led the way, back into the desperate district and bought them some fish-kabobs with sour, green sauce. The skinny siblings ate ravenously, so Fritz ordered a second, then a third, helping until the two had eaten their fill. They groaned from the unprecedented discomfort of having a too-full stomach, holding their stomachs and taking steadying breaths to stop from being sick.

    Dusksong chimed and Fritz smiled.

    He walked into Tallies Trawler; full and craving a mug of beer. He spotted the familiar golden head of Bert and joined him at his table.

    Bert looked up from his mug and quickly hid the quartz orb he had been crooning over and cradling to his chest.

    "Were you singing to that thing?" Fritz asked incredulously.

    "No," Bert lied. "Who''s this?" He asked motioning to the two recruits.

    "Well I told you about Carter. This is his sister Rosie," Fritz said.

    The pair sat when Fritz¡¯s gestured for them to do so then a particularly graceful and familiar waitress approached.

    "What can I get for you and your friends, Fritz?" Vee asked, as she lay a hand on, then squeezed, Bert''s shoulder.

    The two new recruits suddenly went stiff at the mention of Fritz¡¯s name and they stared at him in horror.

    "A round of your cheapest beer,"Fritz ordained haughtily.

    "Sure thing," Vee said with an eye roll, walking off to retrieve their drinks.

    "You''re... Fritz¡­The Fritz?" Carter asked, seemingly mortified.

    "Mad Fritz," Rosie added in a hiss.

    "The very same, and this is Bert," Fritz said.

    With a wide smile that was just on the edge of manic, he added, "Welcome to the crew."

    -

    After a couple of rounds of drinks, or maybe more, Fritz wasn''t counting. The two recruits finally loosened up and had eventually stopped pestering them about how many of the rumours were true. They were swaying happily, tipsily, in their chairs as a man played a lute in the corner and filled the room with a light, floaty tune.

    Warmth buzzed in his own chest as Fritz looked around lazily, then let out a yawn, only now realising how tired he was and how late it had gotten without him noticing. It was early night, a couple of hours after dusk if he had to guess. They were having fun and Fritz was finally unwinding but they had a big day ahead of them in the morning.

    "We better get a move on, can''t drink all night before the Climb tomorrow. Wouldn''t do to be hung over," Fritz said, trying to be the voice of reason.

    Carter nodded dumbly and blinked stupidly while Rosie turned her head slowly to look at him with wide, drunk eyes.

    "Come on, we''re going back to my hideout, we can sleep there tonight," Fritz ordered.

    Having already spent more than a gold on each of them today he wasn''t going to let them out of his sight, lest they cut and run. He didn''t think they would as they still seemed excited at the opportunity and were revelling in the great luxuries of free food and beer. But Fritz reasoned that you could never be too careful.

    "Ssure, thingg. Lovell-ey handsome man... whatever you ssay," Rosie hiccuped, her face as flush as her thoughts.

    They stood and followed, but Bert stayed behind saying he''d meet them at noon tomorrow.

    Fritz nodded, trusting his friend to be there.

    It didn''t take much time before the three of them were laying out bedrolls in the herbalist''s attic, then lying down to sleep. Fritz had been a little worried Rosie would make some kind of fuss but she was out like a mana lamp within moments. As was Carter as he lay beside her.

    They snored, but it was nowhere near the level of Bert''s raucous sleep ravings.

    Fritz drifted off. And hazy nightmares soon followed.

    -

    He awoke to the morning¡¯s burbling skulg-cries and some whispering, which wasn''t a terrible way to wake but it was somewhat worrying. Fritz tried to make out what was being said and found he could hear the two rather clearly, once his head had cleared somewhat.

    "So you''re saying we should still Climb, even though it''s that Fritz and Bert," Rosie said softly. "The completely mad ones."

    "Yes, a Spire¡¯s too good to pass up. And he''s only been fair, if not more than fair to me since I''ve met him," Carter said quietly.

    "I dunno seems like some kind of scheme, what if they want to use us as bait or something?" Rosie argued.

    "Then we''re bait. Got any better prospects?" Carter said.

    "No," Rosie begrudgingly admitted.

    "Then we''re in it?" Carter asked. "Together?"

    "Together," Rosie agreed.

    Fritz could see them quickly hug from where he lay, then he yawned and reached for his new water flask. He was mighty thirsty and his throat was as dry as a rain-shielded carriage.

    He drank down a few mouthfuls of the slightly-sweet, wonderfully-quenching water and pretended to just notice the two sitting up and looking at him.

    "Morning, crew," Fritz said with a wave.

    "Morning, Sir," Carter said quickly.

    "Just call me Fritz, both of you," Fritz said.

    "Morning, Fritz," Rosie ventured.

    He smiled at the two then stood. He had Quicksilver and his third recruit to talk to if he hadn''t already left.

    "Come, pack up, get your gear on then let''s get breakfast. Then I must go receive my trusty blade from the smithy," Fritz commanded.

    Without another word, they did so. Fritz stored his fine clothing away and put on his mottled, black-green leathers. He made sure he was fully equipped and left nothing of use behind, as he wasn''t coming back for about a week, or maybe two.

    They travelled the barely lit streets with only an average pelting of rain falling to greet their still bleary faces.

    -

    It didn''t take long to get to the smithy and Fritz caught George, the apprentice, still manning the counter.

    He smiled and the man smiled back with a glint of eager apprehension in his yellow eyes.

    "I''ve come for Quicksilver, is she ready?" Fritz proclaimed.

    "My fath-er-master, finished it up last night, but he''ll want to show off his work," George said then turned and yelled into the forge. "He''s here!"

    "Who''s here?!" Bruce shouted.

    "Sir Quicksilver!" George shouted back.

    "One moment!" Bruce boomed.

    It took him three moments at least, but Bruce stomped out from the forge. He was all thuds and grins, like some proud smiling bull. Then the muscle-wide man presented Fritz with Quicksilver in a long, black-leather scabbard.

    Fritz took his time to look over the new, wondrously gleaming hilt and hand guard. Its silver lustre caught the flickering light of the forge flames through the open door, like embers glinting beneath the polished surface of a mirror. Both the guard and pommel were elegant in design, sleek with flowing lines, and connected by six thick strands of graceful sliver curved to cover the wielder''s hand. Lending protection from errant strikes or the dripping of tainted blood.

    The grip was wrapped in black leather, but underneath he could feel the smoothness of the metal cast over the jagged core that served as its tang. It was everything he hoped for and more.

    "It''s wonderful," He said mostly to himself and felt his vision get a little blurry.

    "Aye, it is," Bruce agreed. "But you should draw it and give it a swing to see if it''s to your liking."

    Fritz did so, freeing the jagged blade of its sheath with a dull ring.

    It was heavy and felt as solid and sharp as ever as he cut the air then lunged forward, impaling the wind.

    Even with the added weight it was far more comfortable to swing. He no longer had to worry about tearing his palm to pieces as he swung and stabbed and could neatly turn, cleanly control, the long jagged edge without risk or ruin.

    It was sublime.

    Unconsciously he had gone into the fencing form his father had drilled into him. The quick flourishes, cuts and flicks came easier, faster and more perfect than ever. He wasn¡¯t that perfect however, his strikes were slower to change direction than he¡¯d like and while his accuracy was good the blade tended to lead him around. It was nothing to do with the sword, he reasoned. It was due to his inadequate strength.

    That and he lacked practise.

    They can both be remedied in the Spire, He consoled himself.

    "At least you listened to your sword tutor, that''s quite good technique you''ve got," Bruce said appreciably.

    George looked on with small awe and some envy.

    Fritz ceased testing Quicksilver and wiped away a stray tear. "It''s perfect," Fritz proclaimed. "Thank you."

    "It''s not perfect, but I appreciate the sentiment. There was only so much I could do with the blade itself. I tried to hone the edge some, but it''s too dense to alter with what I''m working with," Bruce said with some disappointment.

    "Sill, it''s marvellous work," Fritz stated with a delighted smile. "Beware Spires! Quicksilver comes!" He added with one last slice before going to sheath the blade.

    As he did he noticed that the scabbard''s lip was also made of moonsilver that ran down in two lines inside the wood lining of the sheath.

    He raised an eyebrow at the smith who said, "Ah, noticed that, did you? Good eye. Well, your blade''s edge was sawing apart the wood and causing the whole scabbard to fall apart."

    "So I set some of the moonsilver within to prevent that. It''s also actually one of the suggested uses for the purifying metal, as it keeps edges clean and prevents rust," Bruce continued proudly.

    "Wonderful," Fritz said. And he meant it.

    He belted the black scabbard at his waist and adjusted to the new weight on his hip. It felt...Right. Like he had recaptured something he thought was lost. A bright, new patch on a torn blanket.

    "That doesn''t mean you should neglect your blade though," Bruce warned. "Proper maintenance is key to survival."

    "True as the rain," Fritz agreed, having read something of the sort in ''The Observations''.

    "True as the rain," Bruce repeated loudly and before Fritz could speak up he added, "Your other order should be done in a week or two. I must say I like working with a new metal, really beats out the drudgery of rainsteel-this and black-iron-that."

    Fritz smiled patiently as the man complained then made his farewells, insisting he had last-minute preparations to make, which he did. But he didn¡¯t leave before acquiring some iron throwing-daggers and a dark cloth belt-like holster for them. Which Bruce had given to him for free when he had asked about them. Probably to keep Fritz as a loyal customer, but it might just because the smith was in a good mood.

    "Alright," Bruce said. "Don''t be a stranger and bring me some new metals hey?"

    Fritz nodded and Bruce returned to his forge, whistling tunelessly. Must be in a good mood.

    With a sly smile from George and whisper of, "See you at noon," Which he returned in kind, Fritz was off.

    Now just a couple more things and they¡¯d be ready.

    Ready for anything.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 14

    Fritz motioned for his pair of recruits to follow him out of the Anchorwrought smithy. They walked the steam district looking for any provisions they may have overlooked or missed. Seeing some bargains, Fritz purchased a small whetstone and an old bullseye lantern from a stall, he didn''t get any oil though, as he had though of a different way to light it. The last glowstone should do nicely in place of the flickering flame.

    After one last stop for some king¡¯s rations, an absolute last resort, they then made their way towards the Upper Ring. Fritz''s purse was feeling mighty empty by this point, having spent quite a bit of his gold here and there and on his re-filling water flask. He only had one gold and a couple of silver triads left, he''d have to raid the stash he''d left in the herbalist''s attic.

    It wasn''t on the way so they had to detour. It didn''t take too long, maybe twenty minutes but it was rather annoying and he scrounged the five triads he had stashed in a mossy mouse hole.

    Still kneeling and scraping for triads, he mocked himself. Some things never change.

    He had considered revisiting his safe, but decided against it. Every time he visited the stash, especially during the day, he risked being followed and found out. That and it would take far too much time, an hour or perhaps even two, depending on how flooded the district was.

    It was steadily approaching noon, so Fritz took off with a jog, urging his team to follow as quickly as they could. Which turned out to be not very quick. They weren''t exactly going to be late but he wanted to be early, just in case he forgot something.

    They had to slow as they passed through the gates again, as it was starting to get truly busy and the crowds made running through them inadvisable. But once they had had entered the Upper Ring proper they walked at a brisk pace.

    Eventually when it seemed that his crew could no longer keep up he stopped and allowed them to recover.

    Recover and gawk as they watched a procession of other Climbers heading the same way they were. Towards the smaller of the two Spires but still terribly tall Mer Spire.

    As he walked he felt a niggling feeling like he was forgetting something, something important.

    "Spire''s Spite," He cried as he remembered. "I nearly forgot to say goodbye to my brother and sister," Fritz said frantically.

    "What?!" Carter panted.

    "You two, keep going. Meet up with Bert and tell him I''ll be along in no time," Fritz said.

    They nodded, seemingly relieved he wasn¡¯t going to push them to go faster anymore.

    Fritz set off towards the orphanage at a run.

    Luckily it was quite close, being on the same side of the Upper Ring as the Mer Spire and only took him nine minutes to get there. He ran flat out where he could and slowed where it got too crowded, dodging through the wet streets and between carriages.

    He leapt over the orphanage''s small gate in one fluid motion and was knocking at the heavy door within moments. It opened to reveal Frank''s annoyed face which only got more annoyed as he stared at Fritz while he panted in the doorway.

    "Frank, my good man," Fritz began before the guard cut him off.

    "I''m no one''s ''good man'' what do you want?" Frank grumbled.

    "Just to say goodbye to Eli and Thea, I''m Climbing the Mer Spire today, at noon," Frtiz explained as he slowly caught his breath.

    "Cutting it close," Frank said. "And you¡¯ll also want to say bye to Jess."

    "What a fine suggestion, and here you are saying you''re not a good man," Fritz said.

    Frank scowled, "Are you going to say goodbye or waste your wit and words on me?"

    "Well, I might need directions," Fritz said.

    Frank pointed him down the hall to the room Jess was in last time.

    "I don''t need an escort? Not afraid for Jess''s virtue?" Fritz mocked.

    "Should I be?" Frank scoffed.

    Fritz strode away.

    Frank followed him.

    Jess was glad to help him find his siblings and helped guide him to where he needed to be with a smile on her pretty face and a spring in her step.

    Fritz found his brother on the combat court practising some sword forms that for some reason irritated Fritz when he saw them, or rather, saw them done improperly.

    He strode up to him, saying "Eli, I don''t have much time, but I''m Climbing today. I won''t see you for at least a week or two."

    An exerted, sweating and huffing Eli merely said, "Okay, see you later then."

    Fritz held out his hand, then when Eli took it he quickly pulled his brother into a hug.

    "Damn it, let go, you''re embarrassing me," Eli complained.

    "What else are brothers for?" Fritz said jovially.

    Fritz let him go and with one last wave spun on his heel and sought out Thea.

    She was harder to find, tucked away in the corner of the library reading some faerie tale. Still, it didn''t take him too long, his Awareness and keen familial instinct leading him right to her.

    When he said goodbye to her it was much more subdued and teary, on both sides. He held her small form for almost a minute before she let go.

    "I''ll be fine," He repeated. "I''ve Climbed it before," He lied.

    "You better, and if you''re going to make me cry bring more biscuits next time," Thea chided, as she wiped her red, tear-stained cheeks.

    "I will," He promised.

    Last was a farewell to Jess,

    "I may still have a spot for you to Climb with me," Fritz offered.

    "I''m.. not ready," Jess said sadly. "I want to do it right, like I said. With a Guide and as prepared as I can be."

    "We can''t be prepared for everything," Fritz argued gently.

    "I know, but I don''t feel prepared enough," Jess said. "Maybe I never will." She whispered to herself.

    Fritz gazed into her dark eyes until she broke the eye contact. He knew then that she was right, she wasn''t ready. Completely unprepared for the dangers a Spire presented. And worst of all; unwilling to face them.

    "It''s okay, there''s no rush. Do it in your own time,"he said softly.

    Without another word, she embraced him. It was improper and impolite but she didn''t seem to care. Fritz had discarded his care for propriety years ago and he returned the hug.

    "Farewell," she mumbled into his chest.

    "Faewell. I''ll see you in a week or two." He said.

    Frank coughed and Jess nearly leapt off of Fritz.

    "Maybe you were right, Fritz," Frank said as he strode down the hall towards them. "You''re a menace to virtue everywhere. Now get along, it''s almost noon." Franks said sternly.

    Fritz gave Jess a weak, guilty smile and followed Frank''s order as she waved timidly, her face as red as a boiled lobster.

    Frank followed him to the entrance and just as he was about to close the door on him, Fritz spun on his heel and said, "Oh, and by the way, Bye Frank, I''ll see you in a week or two. Keep them safe for me would you?"

    "That''s my job," Frank stated with a furrowed brow. But Fritz felt with some ineffable awareness that the man had just made a promise, maybe not to Fritz but to himself.

    He left at a run, then a sprint as the sun''s bright spot in the clouds moved ever closer to noon. It took him another ten minutes of jogging to reach the Climber gathering yards that were set around the Spire and its wall.

    As he got closer and had slowed to a steady stride the Spire''s details became clearer. It''s black-blue and grey-edged stone brick glistened as rain cascaded off the smooth, sheer surface. At its precipice a dim beacon shed a scintillating silver-blue light that glimmered off the rain, making it look as though shimmering scales fell from the sky only to disappear when they alighted on the walls or the waiting Climbers.

    Twelve-foot tall stone walls surrounded the Spire grounds, ostensibly there to protect the good folk of the Upper Ring from an Aberrant beast and its spawn should there be a Spire Break. Though Fritz suspected it had more to do with making sure everyone paid the king''s gold triad tax.

    There was only one gate in, or out, and two lanes stretched from it. One for those seeking to enter, excited, eager and well armed and armoured. And one for those leaving, battered, bruised and burdened with bags full of Treasures, magical materials and stretchers with the fallen splayed across them.

    He swiftly passed by a Guides Guildhall, again the smaller of the two in the city, and Fritz didn''t give it even a glance. Instead, he searched the slowly milling crowd and lanes for Bert and the others who were to join his team.

    The yard was a clamouring, clattering, collected chaos, many differently coloured flags flew and fluttered despite the rain. Disparately dressed, armed and armoured Climbers formed their teams or rushed around looking for any open slots in teams missing a member for any number of reasons from injury to indolence.

    He eventually spotted the golden hair of Bert just offside the line to enter the Mer Spire and he saw his eager friend chatting amiably with Carter and Rosie standing by him. Bert was bouncing on the balls of his feet and clad in his self-repairing vest and pants while keeping his stuffed pack secured to his back. The other two watched the crowd furtively.

    Fritz took a moment to rest, then after a minute, once his breath had settled, he decided to stride over to his awaiting, captainless crew.

    What would they do without me? Aimless. Like a boat without a rudder, He mused feeling a self-satisfied smile stretch his lips.

    As Fritz approached he noticed Bert had added some cloth wrapped bracers to his forearms, beneath which a sliver of gleaming silver could be seen. He also now wore a silken headband of white with a pattern of fine silver lines.

    "Bert, nice bracers," Fritz said. "The headband''s a little much though."

    "Fritz, nice fish blade," Bert replied. "Your armour looks like skulg waste."

    Fritz tilted his head in acknowledgement.

    "Please tell me you have some extra gold. I''m almost out and will be if I have to pay for all of us," Fritz said.

    "I have some extra gold," Bert told him with a grin.

    "How much?" Fritz asked at the somewhat evasive answer.

    "Fifteen triads," Bert stated, rattling his purse.

    Fritz was mildly surprised and thoroughly impressed, and his face must''ve shown it because Bert scowled.

    ¡°Remember, I¡¯m the sensible one. I don¡¯t waste all my gold, and I take care of my team,¡± Bert said.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Fritz scoffed openly, but was silently thankful. Sometimes he wondered what he did to deserve such a friend.

    With his six gold going toward the tax, they could use Bert¡¯s gold for filling Treasures, if they used them sparingly.

    "Good," Fritz said. "Or good enough," He corrected himself.

    "What do we do now, do we have a flag or banner like one of the other teams?" Bert asked.

    "I forgot," Fritz admitted grimacing.

    "It''s okay, these things happen to the best of us, and sometimes they happen to you too, Fritz," Bert said with an infuriating grin.

    "I guess we''ll just have to wait, though one of them may or may not show," Fritz said as the four of them stood around and shuffled awkwardly.

    "Hmm?" Bert inquired.

    "Never mind, I see her," Fritz said nodding his head in the direction of the clerk woman. "Really should have asked her name earlier," He added, mostly to himself.

    Bert glanced at him, giving him a serious side eye but lucky the other two didn''t seem to hear his comment.

    The nameless clerk approached with a confident but brusque gait. She was wearing a set of blue battle robes overlayered with grey leather armour. It was the kind of protection favoured by those who wanted to rely on ranged Abilities without dragging themselves down with all the weight and inevitable exhaustion that came with heavier armours.

    She had a carved bone rod the length of her forearm in one hand and a buckler strapped to her belt. She also had a sidearm, some kind of shortsword with a blackened hilt and grip.

    Her confident stride soon changed into one of harried haste as she held on to the straps of her backpack and joined the team at a jog.

    She looked over the team taking in their faces and polite smiles.

    "Are we ready? We should go... quickly," She said, panting a little then glancing over her shoulder.

    "I hope you didn''t run away from home to Climb," Fritz laughed.

    Her eyes went wide and when he saw he was joking she added a laugh too, one that sounded forced.

    Fritz was about to question the woman further but just then, clanking in half-plate armour, a man with his helmet''s visor down joined their small gathering.

    Fritz only took a second to recognise George and offered his hand to shake, "George, good to see you, and right on time."

    George took his hand with his own iron-clad one and shook eagerly. The man was about four inches shorter than himself and had a sheathed greatsword, or maybe a bastard sword, slung over one shoulder and looked ready to go.

    Suddenly and seemingly without cause a shiver ran down Fritz''s back. Something had roused his Awareness and somehow he knew someone was stalking him, it was a feeling so like when the Hound hunted him that he broke into a cold sweat. Not wanting to draw attention but needing to find the origin of the sudden dread he felt he slowly scanned the crowd.

    Though he put on the facade of calm collectedness he was anything but. His heart was hammering and his hand trembled. He rested his palm against the pommel of Quicksilver for reassurance.

    Then he saw the man, the man with the cold black eyes. Vaa''Gur. The Krakosi raider. Somehow he knew it was this man hunting him, that had somehow marked him.

    Awareness, he supposed, was warning him to be wary. And he heeded it.

    "Well since we''re all here let''s get going. There will be plenty of time to get acquainted on the first floor," Fritz expressly espoused.

    The clerk nodded vigorously and George said, "Sure let''s go."

    The sibling looked at each other and something passed between them, then they nodded their heads in agreement.

    Bert was already pushing his way through the crowd.

    Going against his instincts he turned his back to Vaa''gur and followed Bert with the rest of his team in tow. They were at the walls within minutes. The tall gate was open and flanked by two properly outfitted storm guard sergeants. Clad with rainsteel breastplates and sporting longswords belted to their sides they collected and directed the lanes of people in as prompt a manner as was possible.

    Fritz counted out and handed over the six gold triads to the gatekeepers and he and his team were allowed then ushered along towards the Spire.

    It took all his will not to glance over his shoulder at the man who he knew was following him. He was so preoccupied he barely noticed how close the Spire¡¯s doors were until they were right in front of them.

    He stared at the Door that would lead him to his Climb and though he was still beset by the fear of being stalked he grinned. Excitement overrode his wariness and he was determined to get in and escape the glare of the Krakosi raider.

    The gleaming silver-blue light poured from the great arch, the entrance was at least twenty feet across, rippling like a pond and showing nothing of what lay behind its shimmering plane.

    The newly formed team strode though with only a small amount of hesitation from the leveless recruits.

    There was a strange feeling of being between places, in two separate rooms at once and stepping a thousand steps in a second. Then they were through and on the other side of the Door.

    The first thing Fritz noticed was water sloshing around his ankles, the next thing he found was that the Spire''s entrance floor wasn''t empty. There were teams standing and pacing between the three Doors on the other side of the room. To his left, there was a well-organised table that stretched a full third of the circular wall. Hanging above and across the table, a mustard yellow banner emblazoned with the Guides Guild crest, a stylised, triangular, black eye, was proudly displayed.

    The table, carefully watched by a Guide and Guild enforcers, was covered in small objects ranging from packs and potions to Guidebooks and Door Dowsers. All small things that could make a Climb easier, or at least less deadly. A last temptation to spend gold before entering a Door. Fritz knew the items offered weren''t useless, far from it, but they came at a steep price compared to the outside.

    He didn''t know why he expected the Spire''s landing floor to be empty, he knew it wouldn''t be, but watching the last-minute gouging it somehow felt... wrong, perhaps even sacrilegious. Like it was going against the whole purpose of the Spires.

    Fritz shook his head, Sacrilegious? Spires weren''t sacred, they just were. Though some thought them gifts from the Gods, and maybe that was the case. But having never seen or spoken to a God Fritz could hardly countenance the theory. As for a Spire''s purpose? Who can know?

    "Stop standing around and get moving," A storm guard sergeant ordered causing Fritz''s attention to leap out of his wandering wondering.

    He started forward as did his team, quickly getting out of the way of the next group that came through and headed straight for the Doors.

    "Should we look over the Guide''s stall?" The high voice of the clerk asked.

    "Got any gold?" Fritz asked.

    "No," She replied dejectedly.

    "We''ll be okay without what they''re selling," Fritz said.

    "Might as well take a look though," Bert said and strode towards the table.

    With a shrug Fritz followed, it wouldn''t really hurt them any, that and the feeling of being hunted had subsided somewhat. Though it still sat there warning him with pulses of paranoia. He wanted to be in a Door as soon as may be but decided to let them see for themselves that they either didn''t need what was here or couldn''t afford it.

    As they strolled down the stall and looked over the goods for sale Fritz''s eyes caught upon a pack of familiar white cards, Know-notes. He cursed, of course there was another thing he forgot to procure beforehand. Upon seeing the stack of six Know-notes wrapped with a red ribbon he wanted to steal them, maybe palm it discreetly when the Guide wasn''t looking.

    Just as he thought that the Guide''s gaze glided to him and kept steady as Fritz met the man¡¯s piecing white-blue eyes. He thought he could see a dim glow coming from those pale irises and felt like a rat corned by a cat. The Guide smiled a knowing smile like he could see right through him or sense his thoughts.

    Which he probably could considering the scope of Fritz''s own burgeoning Awareness. This man probably had double or perhaps triple the amount of Awareness and Perception he did. He had been a fool to even think about thievery under such a watcher. He slowed his breathing, calming his rapidly beating heart and returned the Guide''s smile weakly.

    Fritz discreetly looked the man over. The man was in the reversible Guide''s coat, yellow inside black outside, though at the moment it was in its opposite state with the eye-catching mustard yellow being displayed proudly. He had silver blonde hair, was middling handsome and looked to be in his early thirties.

    A frown creased the Guide''s brow and he motioned Fritz closer. Resignedly he obliged, it wouldn''t do to make trouble with the Guides Guild, not yet anyway. Not until he could enact his revenge.

    Dusksong chimed near his heart at the thought and he suppressed the sound, lest the Guide somehow hear it. He didn''t know why he was worried about it, but he reasoned that he didn''t want his unique quirks to be discovered before he was powerful enough to decide his own fate and escape the clutches of those who would wish to use him.

    "What is your name? Why do you look familiar?" The Guide demanded.

    This was the last thing Fritz wanted, a Guide''s careful eye on him. He knew from his own flashes and impressions from Awareness that his first and best defence of lying was bound to be useless against this man.

    So seeking shelter in the truth would have to do for now. Though half-truths would work as well.

    "Fritz, Sir," Fritz said worriedly. "Maybe I look like someone else you knew or know, Sir?"

    "Guide is fine, Guide Travis," The man offered, then thought on Fritz''s words while watching him.

    "Not a lie, but hiding something," Travis muttered under his breath.

    "Yeah hiding his dumb real name, isn''t that right, Francis?" said Bert who had appeared at Fritz''s side joined by the rest of the team.

    Fritz grimaced and it wasn''t all an act, he had always rankled at the way Bert said his name, how his idiotically annoying friend over-emphasised the Fran in Francis.

    Just as the Guide was about to ask another question they were both distracted by a team of nine Climbers pushing through the still-deciding teams and striding to the three doors leading up the Mer Spire. One woman wearing the yellow coat of a guide led them with utmost confidence. She barely glanced at the Doors before striding straight towards the middle Stairway.

    Not stopping for a moment they filed into the pale arch that seemed to be made of hundreds of shells moulded together and were lost to sight as they walked up the white sand steps. Three seemed to be grizzled veterans, as could be seen functional, no nonsense equipment and expressions. They wore their armour as if it were a second skin who silently walked through without fear.

    The rest were nobility, clad in the finest arms and armour one could be provided, likely inscribed with all sorts of runes and boons. Each of them held at least one Treasure proudly displayed and probably more hidden from sight. Fritz noticed at least three barrier rings that were almost identical to his own on their soft, uncalloused hands. The noble scions were clean faced and bright eyed, arrogantly boasting and chattering to hide their trepidation, reluctance or excitement for what was likely to be their first Climb.

    When the last had gone through the Door seemed to shudder, ripple then sand poured down and filled the arch completely.

    "What was that?" Bert whispered.

    But he needn''t have bothered as Carter echoed his question at normal volume.

    "Just a Guild run for the newly Tolled noble sons and daughters," Fritz said, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

    If his father hadn¡¯t disappeared. If his mother hadn¡¯t been murdered in the aftermath. He would have been one of them. Coasting along and being carried up the Spire with a Guide and some guards. It would''ve been easy and not wrought with the horrors of the Sunken Spire.

    There were some benefit''s, he rationalised. For one he doubted he would have still gotten his strange selection of Powers or his fortuitous meeting with the Faeries. For two he had experience of how things could go utterly, terribly wrong and was far more prepared than some one Guided and guarded could ever be. At least that''s what he told himself.

    "No not that. What happened with the Door?" Carter asked, breaking Fritz from his thoughts.

    "That. Was a floor being locked," Travis said.

    "Oh?" Bert enquired looking to the Guide and grinning.

    After looking Bert over, from bottom to top, Travis smiled back, running a finger over his pointed chin.

    "First time?" Travis asked.

    "Maybe," Bert replied, puffing out his chest proudly.

    "Hmm, well a floor is locked when it''s full," Travis said as his brow creased a little.

    "A floor can get full?" Carter asked.

    "Yes, the smallest floors in a Minor Spire can fit a maximum of nine," The Guide explained. "While the largest can fit up to three times that amount. That''s why Guide expeditions are carried out in groups of twenty-seven, or rather, three nines. One team for each Door, organised according to their strengths and the danger each floor presents."

    "How long are they locked for?" Fritz asked.

    "Anywhere from between half an hour to an hour, then they shift or reset," Travis provided. "For minor Spires that is."

    "Reset?" Bert asked.

    "Its a near-replica of the same floor instead of changing it completely like a shift," Travis said. "Happens with unlocked floors too, once someone goes in the countdown is on, though there are rare exceptions."

    "You said ''for Minor Spires'', is there a difference with the taller Spires?" Fritz asked.

    "Oh, yes, plenty different, but talking about that skims against the knowledge you need to purchase," Travis said then turned back to Bert, seemingly liking him better. "But if you were to hire a Guide from the Guild you wouldn''t have to worry about all that, you could focus on getting the most out of your Climb without having to dilute your power with detection and Sense Abilities."

    "Too poor for that," Bert admitted shaking his head.

    "Well, if you can''t afford our services it is still advised you go with a Guidebook written by one of our very own Guild members," Travis suggested.

    "And how much would that be?" Fritz asked as a plan to hide his Door Sense came to mind.

    "Depends on your resources," Travis said.

    "We have five gold we can spare," Fritz stated.

    Travis seemed disappointed but shrugged it off slyly.

    "For six gold you could have your pick of one of the Chapters. Maybe this one that helps you identify Doors that will plunge you underwater. That''s a great danger if you''re not prepared," Travis warned.

    Fritz looked over the small sheaves of paper, bound in thin leather covers and containing a dozen pages at most. Idly he searched their silver embossed titles for something that might be useful. There were many such little ''chapters'' of valuable information. But the ones that stuck out to him most were one that described the magical herbs and reagents that were common in the Mer Spire; and another that outlined some of the most common and some of the more deadly monsters.

    The herb one might be good for getting something for Naomi''s alchemy and the other might save his life if they found something too powerful. He put both thoughts out of his mind, there was only one choice that he could pick and that was the one Travis suggested. It would be the best cover for his Door Sense. It had to stay secret.

    It wasn''t that he was suspicious of his new team, but that they hadn¡¯t earned his full trust, not yet. Not until they''d proven themselves to be resolute in the face of both life and death.

    Fritz reluctantly nodded his head, knowing there was nothing for it, and had Bert give the man the six gold triads. He took the chapter titled: ''Underwater-Floors and The Excellent Art of Avoiding Accidental Asphyxiation'' and pretended to read it intently.

    "How much are the No-notes?" Bert asked.

    "They come in packs of six, for eighteen gold," Travis said smoothly

    "They don''t come alone?" Bert asked imploringly.

    "No, they don''t," Travis said, then smiled and whispered. "But I like the look of you, I think you''ll Climb high, I''ll sell you one anyway for three gold."

    Bert leapt on the ''deal'' and handed over another three triads leaving them with only two left.

    "Why aren¡¯t you Climbing?¡± Rosie asked suddenly. "Seems a waste to have a Guide be doing a clerk¡¯s job."

    Travis¡¯s face scrunched at the question but rapidly regained its bland imperiousness.

    "Guild business, I¡¯m afraid," He stated coldly.

    Fritz suspected that the Guide was likely being punished for some mistake or mishap that happened on one of his Climbs.

    Seemingly satisfied with his sale and annoyed by Rosie¡¯s presence and pointed question. Travis let them wander away from the stall and towards the Doors. Waving them off with a, "Good luck."

    As they joined the other deliberating Climbers, they wondered aloud about what the order was and who was allowed to go first. They were informed by a man in the jade scale armour of the Scale Guard that all you had to do was, "Pick and go through. No ''dibs'' or reservations."

    Upon seeing the Scale Guard Fritz was very glad they had chosen to do things the legal way. There was no chance in the Abyss that he wanted to try and sneak past one of the King''s personal army and a Guide. There was even less chance that he could even evade such a powerful fighter''s clutches.

    If this was the security on just the Mer Spire, how much more heavily guarded was the Rain Spire?

    He¡¯d need to come up with some seriously good scheme to get them in there as he intended to, once this Spire was done of course.

    Fritz tore his attention from the guards, Guides and schemes then focused on the Doors.

    He could see that the ''locked'' middle door was starting to shade itself in grey and flicker at its edges, shrinking ever so slightly by the second. The effect was reminiscent of what happened when he saw the falling moon world die on the tenth floor of the Sunken Spire. Even if it was a more gradual disappearance rather than a sudden collapse.

    He ignored that Door for now and searched the first one, pretending to compare it to the useless notes in the chapter they had just purchased. His team looked on awkwardly, save for Bert who was relaxed and utterly, unmovably confident in Fritz.

    Bert slapped Carter on the back, and said, "Don''t worry about it, trust in Fritz."

    The rest of the team gave him sceptical looks but Fritz just knew they were just apprehensive and perhaps at the edge of getting cold feet.

    He had to make a choice before their nerves got the best of them and they backed out.

    The first Door had a ramp of sloping red sand and an arch of thin black granite. Acrid air seeped slowly from the floor above. Fritz felt at it with his Door Sense for whatever he could glean. The impressions came cleaner than they had done in the Sunken Spire, letting him almost feel like he was already on the floor. It was warm but not overly warm, there was a great green ocean to his left, a blue jungle to his right and monsters that scuttled under the crimson sands.

    When he had all he could he pulled his Senses back then proceeded to search the next door.

    The second and rightmost door opened underwater, he could tell that easily enough. What with the shimmering plane of barrier magics holding the water inside the arch of dark stone. Fritz wondered for a moment why no one had taken this Door yet if it was so obviously just an underwater challenge until he took a step closer and could feel the heat radiating off it in waves.

    The water inside was boiling, and the dark stone pulsed with a deep red glow.

    Fritz knew this Floor was probably beyond them but he still tried his Door Sense. What he found was interesting. One point of intense heat was focused near the entrance but the other scattered vents of boiling water were far less troublesome and could be easily navigated. He also got the impression that it was a smaller floor than the other.

    ¡°When¡¯s the next Spire Shuffle?¡± Fritz asked another of the Climbers milling about the Doors.

    ¡°Last one was yesterday, so eight days,¡± The climber replied gruffly.

    Fritz cursed under his breath, no shifting of all the Spire¡¯s floors for more than a week so they¡¯d have to take one of these two or wait for the middle door to reset.

    Fritz quickly made his decision and motioned for his team to form up, then pulled them into a huddle.

    "We''re going in the red sand Door," Fritz said.

    "Good," Bert said.

    "Why?" The runaway clerk asked.

    "The other door is too hot, and is underwater," Fritz explained. "I would try it with an experienced team but as we don''t know each other well enough yet, we should go with the option that lets Bert and I react and give orders."

    "Fair enough," George agreed easily, seemingly the most excited of the group save Bert.

    "You''re the captain," said Bert.

    Carter gulped but soon joined his sister¡¯s nodding.

    The clerk looked worried and Fritz turned to her and looked her in the eyes as if giving her one last chance to back out.

    Her face steeled into a mask of determination then she smiled.

    "Let''s go," She said eagerly.

    Fritz turned, faced the red sand ramp and walked towards it. Giddy delight flared in his heart and his own smile split into a grin.

    ¡°Going up, again. Wonderful.¡±

 Arc 2 - Chapter 15

    Fritz strode up the red sands, upwards into a tunnel lit at the end by the bright light of a cloudless day. Something he had too soon forgotten in the murk of Rain City''s overcast sky. The coarse grains beneath his feet crunched despite his attempt to stay stealthy while he quickly ascended out and into the open air above.

    Now that he stood in the thick of the gelatinous breeze he felt his nose heat and itch from the pervasive scent. It was like burning wood, salt and squid ink. Still, it wasn''t too terrible and it was somewhat of a reprieve from the rot and mould of the districts.

    As he had felt in his impressions, a great, emerald-green sea lay to his left, its waves wobbling oddly rather than crashing violently. To his right, a hundred feet away, was the jungle with grey-barked trees and lush blue leaves, bushes and ferns that waved gently in the ponderous wind.

    The rest of his team appeared in rapid succession. The leveless immediately began coughing, spluttering and holding their noses while looking around wildly for any lurking dangers.

    "Worry not!" Fritz proclaimed. "This beach is safe for now. Take your time to get used to the air then we''ll start the introductions."

    As we probably should have done before entering, Fritz added to himself. Next time we''ll do it right, he promised silently.

    The leveless heeded his command, taking a minute or three to acclimate. Once everyone had become accustomed to the new, pungent breeze and had stopped sneezing and choking, they stared around in wonder at the lack of rain and the shining purple sky and strange red-ringed sun.

    "It''s so dry," Carter observed. "And it''s outside."

    "Very astute," Fritz said.

    "Are we still in the Spire?" Rosie asked.

    "Yes, and no," Fritz said. "There are many theories as to what the floors are but we can''t go into them, and they''re wrong."

    "One of them might be right," The nameless woman hedged.

    "Unlikely," Fritz said with such an air of certainty that she frowned but didn''t argue.

    "It''s so strange but wonderful," Carter said in muted awe. "If only I were a painter and could capture this sea and sky."

    Fritz couldn''t help but agree, being a poet himself, but they also had to get moving, they couldn''t stand around seeing the sights for too long, the sea was slowly crawling closer. The tide was coming, and they couldn''t stop it. Though Fritz judged that it would take hours if not days for the water to reach them so they could take some minutes getting acquainted without risking the Climb.

    "Welcome to your first floor, I''m Fritz and I''m a Scout, This is Bert my right-hand man, and he''s something of a Defender," He told them.

    "I do Striker things too," Bert argued.

    "Yes, we''re both somewhat hybridised, as I have some Controller Abilities as well," Fritz agreed.

    "Now the rest of you are leveless so your names will suffice for now," He continued.

    They stood around in awkward silence for some moments before Fritz turned to Carter.

    "Introduce yourself," He demanded.

    Carter looked nervous but the curly-haired, slouching young man said, "I''m Callum, but most people call me Carter now, so I guess I answer to that too."

    Fritz nodded at the man''s resignation, it was good that he could accept his newly given name. It showed real character.

    "I''m Rosie, Carter''s sister," Rosie provided, with a smile that showed off too many uneven teeth.

    Next was the man clad in iron half-plate, his visor now up so they could see his clean-shaven face, tan skin and yellow eyes.

    "I''m George, I''m an armour smith''s apprentice," He said with some pride.

    Last was the runaway clerk.

    "I''m Lauren," She eventually said, brushing a stray strand of brown hair from her face and blandly returning any stares.

    "Are you a whore?" Rosie blurted out, her eyes wide with apparent interest.

    Lauren gazed at her coldly, like a displeased cat.

    "No, are you?" She asked disdainfully.

    "No, they wouldn''t let me," Rosie admitted, lowering her gaze and staring at the sand pitiably. "Shame. I bet you''d make a lot of triads. Silver ones too, seeings you''re so pretty."

    Lauren''s brow furrowed with irritation, then confusion at the strange compliment. She seemed unsure if Rosie was being serious and not knowing how to respond she retreated into politeness.

    "Thank you?" She replied, but it sounded more like a question.

    Fritz stifled a chuckle.

    "You''re welcome. Anyways, we''re gonna be Climbers now, so what we did before ain''t much to do with anything," Rosie said with a determined nod.

    Fritz blinked at the oddly poignant statement and was unsure how to proceed, but carrying on with his usual bravado he said, "Now, my loyal leveless, you should ponder on what Role you''d like to fill in this Team."

    "What are the roles again?" Carter asked.

    "Defender, Striker, Controller, Enhancer, Scout, Healer," George listed off eagerly. "I want to be a Striker."

    "I figured as much considering that you have a sword and no shield," Fritz observed with a small smirk.

    George looked a little abashed at the comment but argued, "Well I didn''t want to get put in the role of Defender just because I''m a smith."

    "Is that common?" Carter asked.

    "Too common," George groused.

    "How about you? Striker or Controller?" Fritz asked Lauren.

    "Striker," Lauren said simply, motioning to her carved bone rod. "Spell caster if I can manage it."

    Fritz nodded, his suspicions that the rod was a Treasure confirmed.

    "Should be easy enough to wrangle up a monster from under the sand. Then Bert can keep whatever it is busy while you blast them. Same thing with your sword, George, but it''ll be a little more dangerous."

    They both nodded, then noticed what he said about a monster under the sand and gripped at their weapons tightly while staring around at the red beach as if a beast would burst out of the ground at any moment.

    "Calm down," Fritz placated. "I can''t see or hear any monsters coming."

    "You should trust the Scout. Even if it''s Fritz," Bert added unhelpfully.

    Fritz scowled, then quickly covered it up with a genial smile and asked, "Carter, what do you want to be?"

    "I don''t know, something out of the way, in the back maybe? Something that can make a lot of gold?" Carter said with a weak smile.

    "Sure," Fritz said.

    "I want to keep my brother safe!" Rosie said loudly and without prompting.

    "You can be on grease and guard duty then," Fritz offered.

    "What''s that?" Rosie asked scratching at her scalp and scattering her seaweed-like hair.

    "Just protect the back line and put some of this healing grease on their wounds," Fritz said throwing three tins of the putrid grease to her one by one. He then threw one of the tins to each member of the team.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    "This stuff numbs the pain and should keep a wound from going sour. It''s not a potion. So it won''t cure a mortal wound, but it should get you to the Well should you be injured," He added.

    "Anything else before we set off?" He asked the expectant team.

    There was a chorus of noes and a cavalcade of shrugs.

    "Well, let''s get moving then," Fritz said. "Follow me! My valiant team, for glory and gold!"

    He began to stride forward, down the beach and toward the vague feeling of the Stairway up.

    Bert quickly caught up, striding beside him.

    "Are your Treasures all at full capacity?" Fritz asked.

    Bert nodded, "I always keep ''em filled," He said. Then with a wink added, "And I''m not just talkin'' ''bout Treasures."

    Fritz scoffed at his friend''s vulgarity; he barely laughed at all.

    "Want to show off a little?" Fritz whispered as he saw the subtle shifting of crimson sand in front of them.

    "Do you even have to ask?" Bert replied with a grin as he unwrapped the cloth from his bracers and let the moonsilver gleam bloodily under the strange sun.

    "No, but it''s still polite to do so," Fritz said affably. "Monster. Dead ahead. It will burst out of the ground. I''ll bait it you punch it," He added softly as they got closer and closer to where it lay.

    "Just as it should be," Bert said, his excitement building and his grin stretching wider. "The Fritz and Blitz."

    ---

    Lauren followed the two strange but confident Climbers along with the four others of this ''team''. She stood apart from them though as they trudged over the curious crimson sand.

    Watching the backs of Fritz and Bert she couldn''t help but suspect she had made a mistake in leaving her comfortable, if dreadfully dull and dreary, home behind. She wondered what fae mood had gripped her so. That she chose to throw her mother''s orders and plans for her ''future'' to the side. Completely disregarding what was ''best for her''.

    Her mother had warned her about mysterious men, but had she listened? No, she had followed one straight into a Spire.

    And all he had to do was ask, Lauren nearly groaned in self-admonishment. No, that wont do, you''re here now, Climbing, so act like it!

    Stiffening her shoulders, she adjusted her robes and kept moving forward, resolute that she would see the first floor through. She could hardly go back home empty-handed to become an object of ridicule for her mother and her ''good and proper'' sister. Who had ''found a good match, a nobleman,'' and didn''t ''spend all her time with her nose in books''.

    No, she didn''t want to bear their scorn. Their...disappointment, anymore.

    Lauren gripped her Treasure tightly and some guilt pulled in her chest as she held the rune-carved bone. She ignored the feeling and thought about something else instead of dwelling on the world outside.

    She almost couldn''t believe she was here in a Spire. It felt surreal that she had run and joined this Climbing team that she hadn''t met and more than half of whom were leveless like herself. Two of them, the sibling pair, even seemed to be from the desperate district while the smith wasn''t much better, likely being from the steam district. She felt out of place with them, but that also was true most of the time, even with those of her her same station.

    She on the first floor now, and it was thrilling, though there was also a sense of dread and a worry that the Climb wouldn''t live up to her hopes and fancies.

    "Bert right ahead!" Fritz called out suddenly. "It''s coming right for me."

    Snapped out of her introspection, Lauren searched the sands for the monsters Fritz had warned them about but had, so far, remained unseen.

    A true test then. Was this ''Fritz'' all talk or was there something behind that mystery?

    Staring and not wanting to miss a thing she watched him as he stood there, still as a stone. He hadn''t even drawn his rapier and seemed so unprepared but somehow also completely ready.

    The ground rippled in front of Fritz and with a sudden spray of red sand a creature the size of a man burst out. It was grey and glossy, and most resembled a lobster with two serrated claws on either side of its shelled body. Oversized mandibles jutted from its bug-like head that had big pale blue orbs for eyes with long barbed stalks protruding from just behind them. It''s backside ended in a fanned tail, the edges of which looked almost as sharp as it''s spindly thorned legs.

    It was fast like it had a running start to its leap and it sped towards Fritz like a runaway carriage.

    He, however, just stepped to the side and let it fly past him. His step had been small, almost like a shrug, but it was too precise and far too smooth to be natural. Fritz''s eyes trained on the lobster unerringly and he smirked as it thudded onto the ground a few feet away with a splash of sand.

    Bert was on it in a moment, his fist rippled with clear waves and broke the creature''s shell with one strike, sending small shards of grey flying. The lobster shrieked like a kettle''s whistle and tried to dig back below the beach with its claws. He didn''t let it, his mighty kick swept it off the ground and he laughed as it soared a full nine feet into the air.

    The monster fell full on its shelled back, flailing its nine thin, barbed legs as it struggled to right itself.

    Unfortunately, it had landed only a few feet from Fritz who just shook his head and pulled free a long curved dagger made of too-white bone from his belt''s holster. A claw swiped at him as he stepped towards the scrambling monster. He dodged it and its raking legs effortlessly, then plunged the blade deep into a crevice in the creature''s softer, segmented underbelly.

    The terrible shriek stopped suddenly and the legs slowed, twitched then eventually stilled. The charming smile Lauren had come to expect from Fritz didn''t come, rather his brow creased and he glanced intensely around at the sands. His hand went to the elegant silver hilt at his hip and he finally drew his rapier. She saw the blade wasn''t quite right or what she had envisioned. Its length was slightly jagged, black as tar and had a line of opalescent silver running down its centre.

    "More of them! Form up!" Fritz ordered, and they did so, Lauren standing behind the armoured oaf and the two district dredges with their shields. She hoped they knew how to use the shields. If not, well... better them than her.

    "Bert three to the left! I''ve got the three on the right! Leveless shields up, hold the line!" Came Fritz''s next order which was just as easily followed. She noticed there was some shuffling and eyes wide in fear, but she couldn''t blame them. Her own heart was pounding and she felt the impulse to run. Not to flee in terror but just to move.

    What happened next was something of a blur, more of the lobsters leapt out from the trembling sands only to be met with Fritz''s strange black sword and Bert''s rippling punches and kicks.

    Bert was a bull, he charged right into the foul beasts knocking them away with kicks and shattering their shells and claws with quick compact blows that often rippled with force. He laughed the whole while, even when a lucky leap from a lobster caught him from behind, cutting a terrible gash down the back of his left arm. It was unnerving, the wound only seemed to push him to smash them further and punch them harder.

    "More!" Fritz called out and she turned to see how he was fairing.

    Lauren tried to follow Fritz''s strikes but couldn''t. It was like her eyes just slid away from the sword and it was like his whole arm became a dark blur to her senses. He slipped around tearing claws, spinning and stepping in such a way that kept the lobsters swinging wildly. Clawing at and catching only air. Then his blade would darken, disappearing again only for the monsters to slump as thin black blood poured from the seams in their carapaces or shriek and retreat as their eyes and stalks were sliced clean off.

    Soon Fritz was standing still and searching the sands. He pointed to a space just in front of their scared group.

    "One coming up, be ready!" He said as if he expected them to deal with it.

    But they were leveless, how could they fight such a thing?

    She didn''t have time to think as the monster burst from the sand and dove towards Carter.

    His shield was up and his spear''s tip clattered harmlessly against its shell, sliding until it stuck in a crack. The claw came down on his shield and bit into the wood. There was the sound of snapping twigs and the iron rim bent, but it still held fast. The lobster''s bulk hit Carter and sent him sprawling to the ground with its weight pressing down atop him. He struggled to get free but he was trapped between its shell and the sand.

    He yelled and fought with all he had, nearly lifting the beast off himself before it came right back down. If he had been muscled like Bert maybe he could have thrown it off, but those district kids had lacked the will and work ethic to train their bodies. Now he suffered for it.

    Rosie acted, she levered her spear into a crack in the tough shell and pushed, causing the creature to scuttle around, turning its claws towards her. George stepped in and his sword came down towards the lobster''s head but caught upon its carapace dampening the cut''s force, rending a deep furrow where the blade had struck and hacking off one of its its strange stalks.

    Claws tore through the air, George screamed and swung his sword wildly as his iron-clad arm was seized with brutal, crushing strength. Rosie put all her weight into her spear but lost her footing and fell when the monster turned again. Furiously she scrabbled to her feet and took up her hatchet, swinging it erratically. The undisciplined strikes skittered off the creatures hard body, leaving only rough lines on its shell.

    "Get out of the way!" Lauren heard herself yell as she levelled her Treasure on the lobster.

    She Activated the bone rod and the strange runes burned bright like hot coals. Roaring fire geysered forth from the rod''s tip and with it a burning tar that stuck to the monster''s carapace and kept the flame blazing. The heat was intense, and she could feel her own skin begin to tingle just by being near the searing gout.

    The creature screeched as it was being cooked alive within its own shell. In its agony, it let go of its prey and began to wail. George and Rosie grabbed Carter by the shoulders and heaved him away from the staggering inferno that was the lobster.

    They all stepped back, scrambled back in Carter''s case, and watched as the thing burned, bumbled around, then fell still. Crackling merrily like a fireplace and stinking like a coal-baked squid.

    Lauren was as stiff as a board. As were the rest, all wrestling with their own thoughts, fears and regrets, much like she was, she supposed.

    The quiet didn''t last long.

    "Too easy," Bert groused, with at least six of the creatures scattered around him in crumpled, shattered heaps that leaked thin, black blood.

    "Regretfully, I have to agree," Fritz intoned solemnly, standing in a field of five dead foes. Though those ones all seemed to have died from precise strikes rather than crushing blows.

    "Everyone fine?" He called out.

    Lauren noticed she was trembling, that she had a death grip on her searing hot Treasure. She dropped it quickly, looked at her hand and the angry red line down her palm. She knew she''d be getting blisters for sure, but she nodded her head anyway and joined the others proclaiming their safety.

    "I''m fine," Lauren had said. But was she?

    She''d now seen her first monster, killed her first monster, a horrible lobster thing that she knew would have gutted her if she got close. Did she feel fear? Yes. Did she feel pain? Yes. Did she feel alive? Oh, yes!

    ---

    George''s arm ached and he hadn''t landed the final blow, far from it. But he still felt victorious, he had saved Carter and nearly killed the enemy with one strike; if it hadn''t moved at the last second and ruined his attack''s angle. He cursed the beast and thanked his armour and its maker, himself, for its protection.

    He''d have to bang out the dent from his gauntlet but that was far better than having his bones broken.

    He looked over their vanquished foes and to the two who had slaughtered most of them. Then he looked to the rest of the team with their awe filled eyes and slightly gaping mouths.

    By the looks on their faces, it seemed the other''s hadn''t had the slightest inkling of how deadly Fritz was. When they looked at the carnage the pair had wrought their respect seemed to grow by the second. Had they been fooled by Fritz''s foppish appearance and disarming demeanour?

    George had known the dashing man had to be strong, he''d seen the silver bones he brought into the smithy. His father had thought nothing of it though, said that Fritz had probably stolen or bought them from a Jastil merchant. But George bet the old bull was wrong, that Fritz had indeed slain whatever monster they came from.

    There was something in the man¡¯s fascinating eyes when he looked at the bones, a deep self-satisfaction or smug triumph that his father seemed to mistake for false bravado.

    George had felt the weight of the bones, their strength, their density and he couldn''t even imagine the kind of terrible beast they had come from. Something truly dreadful and deadly. He quietly hoped to slay a monster like that so he could take its parts to forge his swords.

    How wondrous that would be!

    "You''re a scout!?" Carter asked Fritz incredulously.

    "Yes, of course," Fritz stated.

    "How did you kill so many, when you''re not a Striker?" Rosie joined in. "Carter almost died to just one."

    "Please, it''s the first level, these were easy foes," Fritz said brushing away her words. "Sure, the sand thing is a bit tricky, but once they''re out of the ground they''re slow and stupid. Next time get it on its back and stab its soft belly. Just like any lobster or crab really."

    "Think they taste good?" Bert interjected.

    "They probably do!" Fritz exclaimed excitedly.

    "Too bad we have no butter," Lauren stated.

    "Butter?" Bert asked.

    "Oh, yes, butter," Fritz nearly moaned. "You can''t tell me you''ve never had butter."

    "I can tell you that because it''s true," Bert said.

    "Okay team, get to cracking, we''re having lobster for lunch," Fritz ordered.

    He watched them tentatively pry apart the beast''s shells and scrape our the grey, gooey flesh, then joined the fray themselves. Only Lauren abstained, not wanting to get her hands dirty with the guts of monster lobsters.

    Thinking of monster meat and then materials, George looked over the fallen foes. His eye for metals was good, but these claws and carapaces were not metal and didn''t seem all that tough to him. But maybe they had something else?

    "Think they have any good materials?" He asked the group at large while opening the underbelly of one of the lobsters. One of the team had to know something about monster parts.

    "Oh, I have something for that," Lauren piped up.

    She ruffled through her pack, pulling out an assortment of small but necessary things for a Climber: food, water, blankets, soap, make up, perfume. Though he doubted the need for the last two.

    Maybe the perfume would be useful to combat the lobster stink on my hands, he thought as he pulled another lump of flesh from one of the dead creatures and slopped it into the pile they had been making.

    Lauren pulled out a lens of glass encircled with bronze and held it to her eye, it glowed dimly with white light and tiny glyphs for a moment then she peered at the lobsters through its clear centre.

    "Their eyes seem to have the most mana density," Lauren hedged.

    "You heard the lady," Fritz said. "I need a sack of eyes!"

    With that, they got to work.

    George grinned, this was it, his very first floor and it was easy.

    What would the next floors hold?

 Arc 2 - Chapter 16

    With a sack full of magic lobster eyes and their monster meat boiling away in an iron pot, thankfully brought along by George, Fritz mused on the fight only half an hour before.

    He wasn''t lying when he said it was easy but he tried to think how he would''ve handled it if he were leveless. After only a couple of seconds of contemplation he was sure his previous crew could''ve dealt with them easily enough. The lobsters were slow and stupid like he had said. Their claws were clumsy and he had the sneaking suspicion that they were near blind. The only thing that was truly dangerous about them was their sand leaping.

    Fritz didn''t want to dwell on the past, as it never did him any good. But he couldn''t help but compare this first floor to his first floor. Bitterness soured his tongue, not from the foul air but at the fact that his first floor and the hounds had been worse. Far worse.

    "It''s ready!" Carter called. Rosie had exposed his unusual skill in making the inedible edible so he had been readily appointed as the team''s cook.

    "Bert eats first, just in case it''s poisonous," Fritz said.

    "Are you trying to kill me!?" Bert asked indignantly, to the shocked chuckles of the team.

    "You''ll be fine," Fritz said. Knowing fully well Bert''s Vitality and Bloodwell would help him fight off any ill effects of the meat in question. That and the man had always had an iron stomach.

    "Hmph," Bert said. "I''ll haunt you if I die!"

    "You haunt me already," Fritz replied easily.

    Bert speared a chunk of the puffy, white, lobster meat with a long, silver fork. Fritz recognised the silver for what it was almost immediately as did George as he shouted, "Is that moonsilver?!"

    "Perhaps," Bert said smugly. He blew on the still steaming meat, then took a small bite., then a larger one. He closed his eyes and chewed, he let a ''mmm''.

    Soon each of them had a piece of too-hot lobster and were blowing on it before taking their own tentative bites.

    Fritz knew Bert''s false enjoyment trick for what it was, having employed himself in their first Spire and let the others test the flavour first.

    He smirked and Bert grinned as the rest of the team tasted the lobster. Rosie and Carter took it better than most, grimly swallowing down the meat. George spit his out right away and Lauren retched as the pale flesh sprayed from her mouth.

    Fritz shrugged and took a bite, happy to suffer with his team. If they endured something they should endure it together.

    It was foul, terrible really, it tasted how burning pitch smelled. Bitingly bitter and entirely too mushy, butter would do nothing to save this dish.

    He grimaced and swallowed.

    "It really is horrible, the worst thing I''ve ever eaten," He observed blandly, as Lauren wiped her mouth indelicately then proceeded to glare at Bert.

    "Will we ever find monster meat that''s any good?" Fritz lamented.

    "The cat wasn''t too bad," Bert reminded him.

    "Yes, but it was cat," Fritz said morosely, nearly sighing.

    "You ate cats?" Lauren said, her tone somewhere between disgust and outrage.

    "You do when you''re starving," Rosie said. "Wouldn''t mind a bit of cat right now if I''m honest, beats this mush."

    "Twas a monster cat, with a white coat like virgin snow," Fritz waxed. "It beset us from ambush, thus meeting my sword''s blow."

    "Then we ate it in a cave, ''cause the bear was a grizzly meal," Bert said as if reminiscing about good times.

    "Alas," Fritz agreed, pointedly ignoring his friends pun.

    Lauren suddenly winced as she grabbed for her waterskin to wash out her mouth, and Fritz noticed the bright red line of a burn down her pale palm.

    "You should get some grease on that," Fritz said with a frown. "Did your Treasure do that to you?"

    She glanced around nervously while fiddling with the lid of one of the small tins containing the mint and bile-scented grease.

    "It did, it gets hot when you use it," Lauren admitted.

    "I''ll say, cooked that lobster to char," George said exuberantly.

    "Mighty powerful treasure, and a rare one too for Rain City," Fritz stated, hoping she would elaborate.

    Lauren just nodded at his assessment and said nothing more. Her nose wrinkled at the bittersweet bile-mint aroma of the grease, but her scowl relaxed as she applied it and she felt its numbing proprieties.

    "Bert, I saw you were cut up. Do you need some help putting this stuff on your own wounds?" George asked, then frowned as he saw all of Bert''s injuries were well on their way to mending.

    "Wait, I saw you get slashed only half an hour ago, but those wounds look almost a day old," George said with concern writ plain across his face.

    "Advanced Attributes," Bert said enigmatically.

    "Advanced Attributes?" Carter asked.

    "Not now," Fritz sighed. "It has to do with Paths and Traits, we can talk about them when you get them."

    "Speaking of which we should really be getting a move on. Pack up and let''s get moving. Oh, and chuck the lobster, it''s inedible," He added.

    Once they had followed his commands and were ready, if not eager, to move, he began to lead them over the sands.

    "Should we really be walking this beach, shouldn''t we try the jungle or something? What if more of the lobsters come?" Lauren asked.

    "I''ll warn you first don''t worry. You''ll need the practise fighting monsters if you want to Climb any higher," Fritz replied easily.

    "How high are we going to Climb?" Rosie asked.

    "Well me and Bert plan a full clear," Fritz stated, confidence ringing in his tone. "With Spire''s spite if we have to. For you fine folk it''s up to you to decide. Though I hope you won''t choose to cut and run at the nearest Well."

    "I want to Climb to the top," George announced, opening his visor and wiping the sweat from his brow as his heavy footfalls struck the sand.

    Carter and Rosie looked at each other and seemed to have a conversation that was all looks and minute gestures that only siblings could understand.

    "We were just going to go for Paths," Carter said. "But if you''re Climbing higher we want to try."

    "I have to get to the top," Lauren puffed out. "Can''t go back in shame."

    "Shame is it?" George asked.

    "No prying," Fritz ordered. "We''re all here for a reason. We all have secrets, some more deadly than others." He added ominously, his words inspiring an awkward silence as they trudged.

    "Leaping Lobsters again," Fritz called out. "Remember, let them leap, get them on their backs, then go for the kill."

    Again the monsters burst forth, a pack of around six. Fritz had no trouble at all and was able to do as he''d done in his previous battle with the creatures. He relied on his Danger Sense to dodge their attacks and their ambushes, replying to their clumsy claws with precise stabs between their shell''s plates.

    This time however he let two of the lobsters through to harass the leveless and was glad to see they heeded his advice. The first of the monsters was already dead with Rosie''s hatchet and spear buried in its chest. The second was quickly dispatched when George''s sword split its grotesque underbelly with one overhead strike spraying himself with thin black blood.

    Luckily his visor was down so barely any splashed his face. Still, he spat and he cursed.

    Another wave of three lobsters came and they were slaughtered just as easily, with even Lauren getting in on the melee with that blackened shortsword. It sizzled as it stuck the soft flesh of the flailing creature and its blood boiled, steaming slightly where it alighted on the blade.

    While Fritz suspected the shortsword wasn''t imbued, or a true Treasure he knew that it must be made of some magical material, one that generated great heat. Treasure or not it was probably rare, triply so for Rain City, so it must have come from her mother''s personal collection or vault. Probably stolen if that air of guilt and furtive glances weren''t just his imagination. Not that he held that against her of course. How could he? He would do the same thing.

    Once they were done slaughtering the newest group of monsters and collected their eyes, Fritz hurried them along.

    After another thirty minutes of walking, and some minutes of complaints he called a break, one Fritz was annoyed to have to permit, but one he knew the leveless needed. They sweat and panted in the heat, Carter and Rosie had taken the trek the best, as he would''ve expected of the urchins, and George was taking it the worst what with all his heavy iron. He sat, removed his helmet and emptied his water skin over his head.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    It was strange to have to slow down and to see the apparent weakness of those without Endurance. He had probably been taking his own Stamina recovery for granted, even cursing how little he had compared to Bert, who endlessly bounced on the balls of his feet and had seemingly boundless energy. But seeing this lot suffer reminded him of how far he''d come and he smiled. That would soon change for them and he couldn''t wait to see their giddy faces when they had Powers of their own.

    Which wouldn''t be too long, only an hour or two or more of walking if his Door Sense was leading him right. He knew it was, and he took a sip of water from his constantly refilling flask.

    Fritz had them up and moving again before too long.

    "Can''t we try the jungle, there''s shade over there," George groused.

    "No, the terrain would slow us down, and who knows what dangers are in there," Fritz said. "This is quickest path forward and we know what''s out here, mostly."

    "Mostly," Bert grinned. "I hope there''s a really big lobster."

    The leveless groaned and Fritz silently agreed with them rather than his battle-mad friend. Though a powerful beast would be an exciting change from the monotony of walking and weak lobsters. It could even be Aberrant and its seed might be worth a fortune.

    Unfortunately, it was not to be. Instead they fought another two groups of the clumsy creatures.

    Fritz''s disappointment was tempered with delight to see that his team was getting better at dealing with the monsters. They were now able to hold their own against at least three of the lobsters as long as they held their formation.

    They didn''t come out unscathed though. Rosie had taken a long slash down her arm from a wild claw and George complained of bruises under his armour after being knocked down by a leaping lobster or two. But apart from those two it was mainly small grazes and minor cuts littering their respective bodies.

    Fritz was proud of them in a way only a Scout-captain could be.

    As they were on the last stretch, or so Fritz thought from the impressions his Door Sense returned to him, he heard a hollow thud sound out from under George''s iron boot. A noise close to the man''s normal stomping but to Fritz''s sensitive ears the difference rang like a bell.

    Fritz spun, "Hold!" He cried out and strode towards the hollow spot and drew Quicksilver, stabbing it into the red sands and striking wood with a satisfying ''thunk''.

    He smiled, he guessed that this was the best way to cross this floor and he had been rewarded for his gamble. Rewarded, it seemed, with buried Treasure.

    "Do we have a shovel?" Fritz asked his team.

    There were shrugs and shaking heads. Fritz sighed.

    "Well let''s dig with our hands then," Fritz decided.

    "Dig?" Lauren asked. "Dig for what?"

    "A chest!" Fritz proclaimed eagerly.

    "What?" She gaped. "On the first floor? Already?"

    "Quite right," Fritz said. "Sometimes I amaze even myself."

    Bert, as the most rested and ready, immediately set to digging out the chest with his bare hands and when he had uncovered the lid and its bronze bands he hauled it out with a yell.

    "Well done, Bert," Fritz said as he applauded politely, which Lauren joined belatedly while the rest just stared at their prize.

    "Who''s going to open it?" Carter asked softly.

    "George''s thunderous steps found it. So let him do it," Fritz suggested.

    "Is that alright?''" George asked with some trepidation.

    "It is!" Fritz said. "Quickly now! I want to see what''s inside."

    George set down his helmet he was cradling under one arm and opened the bronze banded lid. Prismatic light spilled forth, coalescing into three objects and three glass vials filled with bubbling clear yellow-tinted liquid.

    George pulled them out, looked at them then handed them off to Bert or Fritz so they could get a better look.

    The vials obviously contained some sort of Stamina potion if Fritz guessed correctly, while the other three items were more interesting. One was a sheet or rather a cloak of blue-grey scales that dimly glittered in the light of day. Second was a ring of bleached bone, or perhaps coral, that was dry, rough and chalky to the touch. Last was something odd, a set of three two-foot-long identical steel rods.

    "Care to use your lens again Lauren?" Fritz asked as they peered over the collection of items.

    "Sure!" Lauren said excitedly, pulling out the lens and walking closer to the items arrayed in the sand. She then Activated whatever scrying Ability it seemed to possess and searched each object diligently, though the ring got the most attention.

    "Ring is a Treasure, the other two are just magic," She explained.

    "What''s the difference?" Rosie asked.

    When no one offered an explanation for some moments Lauren sighed.

    "Treasures come with Abilities, or even Traits, whose effects transcend the item itself," She explained as if repeating something back to a tutor.

    "Huh," Bert said.

    "Huh," Fritz said.

    "What does that mean?" Carter asked before Fritz had to.

    Always good to have someone even more ignorant that you ask the questions so you don''t seem like a completely unprepared peasant, Fritz thought.

    "It means, magic or inscribed items are limited to the item itself, like becoming harder or setting aflame. Whereas a Treasure might let you transform, increase your Attributes, or have other Passive and Active Abilities," She explained.

    "Oh, but aren''t there inscribed wands and other items that can cast Abilities?" George asked.

    "Yes, at that point they''re basically Treasures," Lauren said. "But they only really affect the items themselves, not the person wielding it and often their mana can''t be refilled or they''re one use so we keep them classified as magic items."

    "I don''t get it," Rosie said, echoing Fritz''s thoughts.

    "It''s like this," Lauren said, with some exasperation while pulling her blackened shortsword free of its sheath. "This is a blade made of volcanic iron and inscribed with some heat-focusing and retaining runes. It''s very hot, almost the equivalent of a Heat Blade Ability and the runes need refilling every once in a while. It is not a Treasure."

    "Seems like one," Carter said.

    "Yes it does," Lauren agreed.

    "But it''s not, because it only affects itself. Same with a breastplate or a sword with Durability runes. A Treasure version of this blade would let you Activate its Imbuement, which in this case would be the Heat Blade Ability. It would be as though you were casting the Ability yourself, but it won''t benefit from your Passives or Traits as it''s magic is too different from your own. Treasures will also just be more powerful, more durable and may have more magic effects than just its Imbuement," She explained.

    "The rod, it''s a Treasure right?" Carter asked.

    "Yes," Lauren hedged. "It''s a forged Treasure, incorporating both inscriptions and an imbuement."

    "You can do that?" Bert asked. "Improve a Treasure?"

    "Yes, you can do all sorts, but it''s expensive and requires real experts. Only someone like the king or the higher nobles could afford or get access to. Though I hear things like this are easier to get on the mainland," She espoused.

    "Why do you have one then?" Rosie asked.

    "I uh... don''t want to talk about it," Lauren said.

    "No prying," Fritz intoned for a second time this day before Rosie could argue.

    Lauren looked at him gratefully and he continued, "I think I get the difference, Treasures are Imbued and magical items are not even though they can look like they are."

    She tilted her way this way and that as if there was some more nuance she might elaborate on, but ultimately she just nodded.

    "That''s probably the best way to think of it. If you''re a layman," She agreed.

    "Not much use getting caught up in a definition. What''s important is: what do these things do?" Fritz asked.

    Lauren shrugged. "The lens only picks up mana, not alignment or anything else useful."

    "Then how do you know the ring is a Treasure?" Rosie asked suspiciously.

    "Its mana is brighter," Lauren said.

    "Fair enough," Rosie said with a shrug, seemingly satisfied.

    "Though I think the rods go together somehow, the scale cape and the ring I have no idea what they do. As for the potions they are probably some sort of Stamina restorative, but I''ll have to check," She said bringing out a long, thin piece of paper from her pack and staring expectantly at Fritz who held all the potions.

    He smiled and offered her the vials. Lauren daintily plucked one from his palm.

    She unstoppered the potion and dipped the paper into the liquid, then after three moments she pulled the paper out again. She stared at it intently as the colour changed from clear yellow to bright yellow and a small glyph appeared just below her thumb.

    "Small burst of Stamina and a persistent, maybe an hour, Stamina restorative boost," She said, without inflection or passion as if addressing a customer.

    "Wow," Bert said.

    "Good to know," Fritz said. "Got any more of those paper potion tester things?"

    "Yes, two more," Lauren said. "I''m surprised you didn''t bring any."

    "I forgot!" Fritz said proudly. "I''m glad I have such a wonderful team to mind me my minuscule miscalculations."

    "I could really do with one of those potions right now," George said, thankfully distracting the others before they started to question Fritz further.

    "No. We''re almost there, half an hour at most," Fritz said. "We keep them for emergencies."

    George let out a tired breath but didn''t argue.

    "What about these things?" Rosie asked, "I wouldn''t mind a pretty ring."

    "We should work out what they do, but we only have one Know-note. Do we really want to use it on this first-floor Treasure?" Fritz asked.

    The team looked to each other awkwardly, either shrugging or shaking their heads.

    "Guess not," Rosie said. "Can''t we just use it to test it out?"

    "Sure... but it might be dangerous," Lauren warned. "Though a first-floor bronze chest is unlikely to have anything deadly."

    Fritz agreed with the statement so let Rosie pick up the ring and Activate it. It pulsed with a wide wave of almost invisible blue light and rang with a low almost inaudible sound.

    Nothing happened.

    Rosie''s face fell.

    "It didn''t do anything. Didn''t even glow," She complained.

    "It did do something. Though I don''t know what," Fritz supplied.

    Before anyone could ask him about what he had seen, Bert exclaimed, "Wow! This is nice!"

    Fritz turned to look and saw his friend wrapped in the cloak of blue-grey scales.

    "Is it?" He asked.

    "Like a cool rain, can''t feel the sun''s rays at all," Bert said.

    George looked on enviously as he sweat in the slightly too-warm heat.

    "Bert give it to George, the man is melting in his armour," Fritz said.

    "Oh, right!" Bert said whipping the gleaming cloak off himself and throwing it at the man in a flurry of movement.

    George caught the cape with his face but didn''t dare grumble as he unbundled the cloak and wrapped it around his broad, armoured shoulders.

    He sighed.

    "How is it?" Fritz asked.

    "It''s better," George said. "Are you sure it''s okay I take it?" He asked Bert.

    "Yep. Looks better on you anyway, that and it''d only get in the way while punching." Bert said with a grin and a wink that the man seemed startled by.

    "What that idiot means to say is: Give Treasures where they''re most beneficial," Fritz stated.

    "What you''re not gonna just take all the good stuff like we thought you were?" Rosie blurted out.

    "Of course not, we didn''t bring you here to be slaves or shields," Fritz said earnestly.

    "Then how are we going to split the loot?" Lauren asked somewhat interested in the items now.

    Apparently, she''d been thinking along the same lines as the others and needed to be set straight as well.

    "We can work out worth and splits at the Precipice," Fritz replied. "For now we''ll just let whoever gets the most use out of them carry them. Agreed?"

    "Sure," Lauren said with a gleam of greed in her eyes, that was mirrored in the rest of the team.

    The rest clamoured their agreements rapidly.

    Well at least they''re more motivated now, Fritz thought. Just wait until they get Powers then they''ll probably be the ones dragging us along.

    "Seeings as this ring does nothing do you want it back?" Rosie asked.

    "No. You hang onto it," Fritz said.

    "What about the rods?" Carter asked as he studied two of them.

    With a sudden ''tink'' the two ends of the steel rods stuck together. He pulled on them but they wouldn''t unstick, it was like like they were fused together.

    Carter''s face went blank and he looked to Fritz in Bert with some fear that they''d berate him for breaking the rods.

    "Can you turn it," Lauren asked.

    Carter, wanting to fix his mistake, quickly tried the suggestion. First, he pulled right which did nothing, then he tried pushing left which made a small grinding noise as the steel turned and fell back into its two halves.

    "It''s like it''s got a magic screw or something," Carter said.

    "A dissembling steel pole," Lauren said. "Useful for finding traps. Can probably double as a quarter staff in a pinch."

    "I have no use for it," Bert said even though no one had asked.

    "Anyone else want it?" Fritz asked, ignoring Bert''s grin and the team''s confused stares.

    "Scout should take it, they have to deal with traps all the time," Lauren said.

    Fritz almost said he didn''t need it because of his Trap Sense but decided to keep that to himself. He didn''t know if he could trust them with his secrets quite yet. He received the rods graciously and slipped them into his belt with a smile.

    With the Treasures sorted Fritz handed one of the potions to Bert and kept one himself, the last they decided to hand to the temporary medic, Rosie. Thankfully, there was no argument or dissent about the item distributions and they were all ready to move and get out of the sun.

    They got back to walking and surprisingly weren''t challenged again by any lobsters. After ten minutes Fritz spotted a twelve-foot-tall rock sticking from the sand. It was black like obsidian but carved to seem as though it had dark, glossy scales.

    Fritz''s Door Sense pointed him straight to the stone and he informed his team that they were close. He didn''t mention his Ability of course but rather that he had a good feeling about the stone and that it had the ''right look'' of a stairway. There were some panting cheers and mild applause but he bid them hold their thanks until they were in the Well room.

    It was only when he was five minutes away from the Stairway that he felt the dread of being followed. No, hunted. Again. He looked back to see nothing, but still, worry filled his heart, even as he pressed forward.

    Fritz searched the sands ahead, although he was sure the pressure was coming from behind, just in case it was some strange monster''s Ability. But nothing of the sort appeared and they got to the Stairway without any more danger.

    They stood before the strange scale-carved bricks of the stairs and arch and Fritz ushered his team through the Door watching for whatever was causing the strange looming dread.

    Probably my nerves getting the best of me, my time in the Sunken Spire, and the gutter has got me paranoid. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop, he concluded, trying to rationalise his fear.

    He didn''t see anything so he shrugged and followed in after Bert, climbing the steps and towards new Power.

    "It''ll be fine."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 17

    As Fritz passed into the cool stairway the feeling of being stalked receded, gradually easing as his steps took him higher and higher. Though the dread was still there, a small niggling in the back of his shoulders but he put it to the back of his mind. He shivered and turned his attention to other things, such as the room he was now walking into.

    It was similar to the landing floor, circular with slick, stone-brick walls and in its centre there was a six-foot wide pool of glowing water. Within the shallow depths small fish swam, but not a ripple disturbed the pool''s still surface. There was a ring of solid stone around the pool with plenty of room to rest and set down their burdens.

    Fritz was the last one in and he saw the leveless simply staring at the Well.

    "Why are you all standing around like fools? Go ahead and get your first Attributes and Abilities," Fritz urged.

    Startled out of their reveries, they quickly dropped their gear and jogged over to the glowing pool. Even Lauren ditched her dignity, she hiked up her robes as she rushed to the water got on her knees and slurped down the magic.

    Fritz thought he could almost see the energies enter them. Small ripples subtly flowed into their bodies as they took from the glowing light.

    After a moment they sat there staring around, feeling the new powerful magic and wondering at its inscrutable yet now tangible energy.

    "What now?" Rosie blurted out.

    Fritz chuckled and all save Lauren turned to him with mild confusion on their faces, obviously they hadn''t thought this far ahead and didn''t even know what to do next.

    "Now you go into your Sanctums and choose your new Attributes and Abilities," Fritz explained.

    "Oh," Rosie said. "How do we do that?"

    With a gentle smile, Fritz got to explaining the basics as he knew them and soon all the team were in their Sanctums to see what Abilities they had been offered.

    When he was sure that the rest of the team were dead to the world he motioned to Bert and they sprinted to the Well and quickly dank their share of the power. After Fritz felt the cool energy get pulled into his centre he retreated from the edge of the still waters and back to where he had been moments before.

    He decided not to fall into his own Sanctum quite yet as he was only going to be given more Attributes this level. With his next Ability coming at level twelve, then fifteen and so on. He wouldn''t even get another Trait until level twenty, though if they could pick up the pace that might only be a couple of days. Too many days for his liking but he reminded himself not to be too greedy.

    He was pulled from his musings as Lauren opened her eyes, sniffled then began to weep quietly.

    "What''s wrong?'' Fritz asked, completely baffled by her sudden tears and suppressed sobs.

    She quickly turned away from his gaze and shoved her face in her hands.

    "Nothing!" She yelled, the sound muffled by the sleeves of her robe.

    He had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn''t ''nothing'', as she put it, but rather she probably didn''t get offered the Ability she was aiming for.

    Lauren was slowly getting a hold of herself, her breath slowed to its usual steady rhythm and her tears ceased.

    Fritz sighed inwardly, then walked over and crouched two feet in front of where she sat.

    "No Fire Bolt?" Fritz asked softly.

    "No fire anything," She said sulkily. "Wait, how did you know?" She asked glaring at him suspiciously with watery eyes.

    "Oh, I don''t know. Maybe it was the fiery spray Treasure or maybe the volcanic sword?" Fritz said.

    Lauren slumped and returned her gaze to her hands.

    "You want to be a fire-aligned spell caster?" He asked.

    "I do, but I got offered nothing with fire even though I killed at least two of the lobsters with fire," She complained.

    "This Spire is mostly water and aquatically aligned. It''ll be hard to get a fire aligned Ability," Fritz said gently.

    She sighed sadly. "I know."

    "All is not lost, still two more floors until you get a Path," Fritz stated. "Just got to immolate a couple more monsters."

    "Sure. Yeah. If we''re lucky enough to somehow get another Floor with monsters in it," Lauren said dejectedly.

    "Don''t lose hope. I am a man of miracles. Just you wait," Fritz boasted.

    She just shook her head and kept moping.

    Fritz didn''t really know what she was worrying about. Most of the Door choices he''d had to make were to avoid the more deadly monsters, rather any monsters at all. He glanced at the three Doors across the room. Surely there wasn''t going to be a lack of such Doors in this Spire?

    Fritz was broken out of his thoughts by Carter''s voice.

    "What should we align our Attribute points into?" He asked.

    "Hmm, depends on what you want to do," Fritz replied.

    "I uh... don''t know," Carter said hanging his head.

    "How much does a point of Strength increase your strength?" Rosie asked.

    Before Fritz could reply that he didn''t know, Lauren mumbled something he couldn''t quite hear.

    "Sorry, what was that, Lauren?" Fritz asked.

    "I said. Three and one-third percent," she replied.

    "What does that mean?" Rosie said.

    "It means," Lauren said sullenly. "That you should read a book."

    "Ain''t much books in the districts," Rosie countered with a shrug, seemingly unaffected by the other woman''s mood.

    "Could you enlighten us uneducated, ignorant souls?" Bert asked.

    Lauren stayed silent.

    "Please," Fritz entreated.

    She huffed but nodded once.

    "Each Base Attribute Alignment point multiplies the Unenhanced Attribute Value by three and one-third percent," She recited.

    "Hmm," Fritz said scratching his chin, pretending he knew what she meant.

    "What''s a percent?" Carter asked.

    "It means ''out of one-hundred''," Lauren supplied.

    "Ah, so three points are worth... one in ten? Every three points improves that Attribute by one-tenth?" Fritz hedged, trying to recall as much as he could of his stalled-out schooling.

    "Yes," She provided.

    "Hmm," Bert said. "I have eighteen Strength. So I''m six-tenths stronger than I should be?"

    "Sixty percent, but yes," she corrected.

    "At thirty I''ll be at ten tenths... of the base, making me ten times stronger?" Bert asked, trying to puzzle some hitherto unknown and unassailably alien mathematics.

    "Twice as strong as you should be," Lauren corrected.

    "Oh! I get it now," Bert said, nodding his head, then pausing. "But that doesn''t seem right, I feel much stronger than sixty percent!" He added.

    Lauren sighed wearily. Fritz couldn''t say whether her suddenly exasperated disposition was better or worse than her sulky mood, but at least it was more informative.

    "I didn''t come along to tutor you all, you know," she said.

    "Please?" Fritz asked with his most charming smile.

    "Fine," Lauren agreed glancing away from his eyes abashed.

    She stood and upon seeing all eyes were on her cleared her throat.

    "Think about how much of your Base Attributes are used just to sustain your normal body and mind functions. It''s similar for the other Attributes but Strength is the easiest example to imagine, so let''s start there," She began.

    "All that hidden strength you use just to hold yourself up is multiplied. Just how much weight do you carry with your body that you don''t even consider as being part of your strength? That increase is why it will feel like you have more than you should. That and your body doesn''t even let you use all your inborn strength as it would tear your muscles apart, or pull them from your bones," She explained as if reciting a cooking recipe rather than the gruesome scenario she described.

    "Huh," Bert said thinking it over but still seeming sceptical.

    "The Strength Attribute changes that, multiplying all your strength and easing the strain on your body. Though you can still hurt yourself like you could before, if you overexert your muscles too much. Which is why you should try to maintain a balance with Endurance, and Agility for that matter. Staying at or below a two-to-one ratio is the common practise for Climbers so the Attributes don''t become ''unbalanced''. Three-to-one and beyond that is where the ''unbalance'' starts to become detrimental," Lauren espoused.

    "Why?" Bert asked. "What happens?"

    "Well, the more Strength you have the more Stamina you consume when using it. Endurance increases the rate of recovery from tiredness and your total stamina. So if you went over the ratio you''d tire yourself out much quicker or hurt your muscles, which would take even longer to heal. And without Agility you''d be too clumsy to use your strength properly. Often breaking things without meaning to," She said.

    "Is it the same for the mental Attributes?" Fritz asked, knowing full well that the answer was yes having felt some of the effects already.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Though his perception was only double his Memory and Focus, he also had Awareness and his Sense Abilities. All of them together were probably straining his mental capacity more than he had realised.

    "It is. For example: too much Memory without enough Focus will have you living in the past, easily distracted by your clear and sharpened recollections," She replied. "But you don''t have to worry about the imbalances overmuch until your Attributes reach about fifteen points in one of them."

    "Why fifteen," Bert asked.

    Lauren shrugged.

    "Is it the same with Advanced Attributes?" Bert asked.

    "Depends which one. Each could have books written about them and how they''re theorised to work, and most do," She said.

    Fritz looked at her expectantly.

    Lauren sighed.

    "Generally Advanced Attributes that affect the body or mind would need to be balanced with the Base Attributes to varying degrees. As would Abilities, Traits and Strains. But that''s neither here nor there. That and each Advanced Attribute is different enough that there aren''t any rules that apply to all of them," She said.

    There was a small silence as they slowly digested all this, extremely valuable, information.

    "So we shouldn''t specialise because its dangerous?" Carter asked eventually.

    "No, you should specialise, but you have to spread your Attributes around thoughtfully. Not just align everything into one Attribute like Strength. Though that doesn''t stop some fools," She said. "But it''s not like ignoring the ratios will kill or cripple you, it will just make it harder to function at full effectiveness. Or so my tutor warned me."

    It seemed like good advice, and Fritz had far less knowledge than Lauren obviously possessed, so he nodded along absorbing all the new insights. Though there was still some small discrepancy niggling at him.

    "Still, three and a third percent per point doesn''t seem like much of an increase," Fritz said. "I saw Bert crush a Bone-mould Bear''s skull with his heel. And that was before he had as much Strength as he does now."

    Lauren frowned.

    "You''re right that doesn''t seem correct," She agreed. "But, if he has any Abilities, Traits, or Strains that can increase Strength it would be multiplicative with his Attributes."

    "Multiplicative?" Carter asked.

    "It basically means the more Abilities, Traits, and Strains that affect an Attribute, the better," Lauren said, waving down any further questions about the complexities of mathematics. "That''s why Boon Abilities and Passives that increase Attributes are so powerful. Something like Bulky increases your Strength more than the minor increase of fifteen percent would suggest."

    "Oh," Bert said. "But I don''t really have those sorts of Powers."

    "What no Technique, Boon, Trait or Passive? I know you have a Strike at least, I saw it," Lauren said.

    "Oh wait, I may have a Technique," Bert admitted sheepishly.

    "And what does it effect and by how much does it effect it?" She asked trying not to let her exasperation leak into her tone.

    Welcome to the team, Fritz thought as he smirked.

    "I''ll check," Bert said, sitting and falling into his Sanctum.

    They waited for some moments until Bert resurfaced.

    "Lesser benefits to Strength, Agility and Momentum," he recited.

    Bert''s Technique''s description didn''t match Fritz''s memories of his own and his features creased into a small scowl.

    "Lesser?!" She asked with some shock. "That''s a thirty percent increase. What stage is your Technique?"

    "Apprentice," Bert said puffing out his chest proudly.

    "Apprentice!? Mine is still at novice, and says nothing about Momentum," Fritz said incredulously.

    "Yeah because you don''t practise it. You just prance around with your fish blade. No punches or kicks. None of the Arte in it!" Bert proclaimed.

    "The Technique mentions it either because he Activated the Advanced Attribute or because he got to a higher stage in his Technique. They can be like that, hiding some of their benefits and synergies until you discover them yourselves," Lauren said dispassionately.

    "You guys have a punching Technique?" Rosie asked eagerly.

    "Yes!" Bert said, pulling the tome that was the Arte Pugilist out from his pack and displaying its red cover to the team''s excited faces.

    "Before anyone clamours to learn it, you should know that it''s best for fools and madmen. Giving better benefits if you''re unarmed, unarmoured and close to your foes. Unfortunately, that''s why it''s perfect for Bert," Fritz said.

    "Perfect for me!" Bert agreed.

    Most of the team''s interest in learning the Technique faded quickly after hearing Fritz''s explanation.

    "Why did you learn it then?" Lauren asked. "It''s going to be dreadful to unlearn."

    Fritz winced at the thought, he''d only heard tales but it was always the same; when someone lost their Techniques it was said to come with a lot of pain and frustration.

    "I needed every scrap of power I could get. And I won''t lie it probably did save my life a couple of times, even if I didn''t notice it," Fritz admitted as he thought back on his battles. "Honestly if you have no plans for learning other Techniques it might be worth training you in it."

    "No. Thank you," Lauren said.

    George looked to his sword and back to the book, then shook his head.

    Carter was thinking deeply about it and Rosie burst out, "Yes, teach it to me!"

    Her brother sighed and smirked as he watched her punch the air in excitement.

    "Does it have any grappling?" She asked suddenly, her tongue darting over her lower lip as she looked Bert up and down.

    "Some," He replied, nodding and missing the glint in her eye.

    Rosie beamed.

    "He''ll teach it when there''s time, as for now you should make your selections," Fritz said.

    "What should we pick then?" Rosie asked.

    "Can we hold onto the Powers and Attributes until later?" Carter said, adding his own question to the mix.

    "You can... Though I don''t see why you would," Fritz said.

    "So you can make more synergistic choices when they''re all laid out," Lauren said.

    "Wait, but the choice you make now can influence the others you''re offered, what would happen if you simply never chose any Abilities?" Fritz asked.

    "They would only be influenced by your Sanctum, the Spire, and your actions," She said easily.

    "Huh. What''s to stop people from doing that apart from the obvious danger of the Spires?" Fritz asked.

    "Nothing, but I''ve been taught that it becomes painful and strains your Sanctum if you hold too much power or hold it for too long without use," Lauren said.

    "Do the choices change? Like at every Well?" Bert asked.

    "No, the offered choices are stored forever," Lauren said. "Which is where Seeds come into play. Instead of picking one of the choices you can use a Seed giving you a completely different shape for the Power to take. One that hopefully suits you and your ''kit'' better."

    "Seeds, huh," Bert mumbled.

    "Got any Seeds?" Rosie asked the team.

    Lauren scoffed, "If any of us had Seeds we could have sold them to afford a Guide and some guards to boot."

    "They''re expensive then?" Rosie asked dejectedly.

    "Very," Lauren stated.

    Fritz, quickly changed the topic, supremely unwilling to reveal his and Bert''s Golden Seeds that he still had hidden in his shaving kit.

    "So does anyone need any advice on what Abilities to take?" He asked the team, aware that it would be quite a breach in etiquette to ask what they were offered and what they intended to choose. Until they knew each other far better.

    Rosie and Carter seemed not to mind revealing their choices.

    Rosie was offered the Charm Fish, Puncture and Flurry Abilities while her brother was granted the choice of Heave, Brace and Water Bolt.

    Lauren said she would hold onto her choice for now and George informed them that he''d taken an Ability called Sharpen Blade. Likely influenced by his fastidious maintenance of his sword after every fight or perhaps his Sanctum, though he didn''t confirm if that was the case.

    "Let me guess, it makes a blade sharper?" Fritz said.

    "It''s a boon, lasts a minute and yes, it magically wreathes the blade in sharpness," George said proudly.

    "Touch or ranged?" Bert asked.

    "Don''t know," George said.

    "Test it," Fritz suggested.

    They did starting from one side of the room and walking closer until the Ability worked, finding that it had a range of about fifteen feet. Which was quite the happy surprise for George who expected it to be only effective at closer ranges.

    "It''s a wonderful ability, good for both yourself and the team," Fritz said.

    "I''ve decided to take Puncture," Rosie said.

    "Not Charm Fish?" Carter asked. "Could finally find yourself a friend."

    "I can''t be friends with fish," Rosie stated bluntly.

    "Too scaly?" Fritz asked.

    "''Cause they can''t talk," Rosie replied scathingly. "You got to talk to be friends."

    "Good... Point," Fritz said somewhat disconcerted by the vehemence of the statement.

    "Carter, what are you leaning towards?" Bert asked breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the group.

    "I''m going with Heave, it doesn''t say it increases Strength but it makes me able to lift and throw heavier things for a minute," Carter said.

    "No water bolt?" Lauren asked some what surprised.

    "Not much use on the outside, and I don''t much want to be a spell caster," Carter admitted.

    "It doesn''t increase Strength? How does that work?" Bert asked.

    Carter shrugged.

    "Maybe it''s like your Momentum?" Fritz theorised.

    "Maybe," Bert agreed.

    Carter just shrugged again.

    "I don''t want to be stuck under a monster again," He said in a low voice.

    "Good man," Bert said slapping the man on the back. "I applaud your choice."

    "Well make your choices and Align your Attributes and I''ll get to searching the Doors," Fritz declared.

    He strode away from the team as they sat and contemplated. Fritz stopped and pretended to consult the ''chapter'' when he was in front of the three Doors.

    The Door on the left was a portal of gentle flowing water enclosed by a circle of greyish tree branches braided together. Small yellow leaves grew out from the smooth bark and had a slightly sour smell. It wasn''t a foul scent by any means, reminding Fritz of citrus, but of a kind he''d never encountered. He let his senses reach into the Floor beyond and got the impression of a warm, slow current, teeming sea life and ripe fruits for the picking, delectable and dangerous. Dangerous?

    He didn''t know exactly why he was being warned about the Door save for it being an underwater floor, which he was prepared for. But he decided to trust his senses on the subject, they hadn''t led him wrong yet.

    He turned to the middle Door, it looked like the entrance to a natural cave with grey stone that dripped with brackish water. The air wasn''t exactly stale but it was muddled with both scents of rot and clean air. His Door Sense returned images of dark caves, some pitch black and some lit by radiant pearls within the open and awaiting maws of ravenous clams. There was the occasional roar of rushing waves and a room could flood in an instant or dash you against the stone or the viciously sharp clams layered upon them.

    The last of the Doors seemed the most peaceful of the three with a square wooden gate painted in red with a clean breeze blowing through it. The steps were unpainted planks and led upwards into a bright stairway. Fritz felt with his Door Sense and was granted a vision of lush green terraced hills filled with basins of pristine water. Creatures in the shape of men walked through the waist-deep pools tending to the strange black sea-weed-like plant the grew below the window-like waveless waters.

    The feeling of danger from this one was fairly minimal, even the monsters seemed to give off an impression of dull calm.

    Fritz turned away from the Doors and returned to his crew.

    "Discover anything?" Lauren asked. "Preferably something with no monsters this time."

    "What no monsters?!" Bert said incredulously. "Where''s the fun in that?"

    "I''d prefer to have some offensive Ability before we go looking for monsters," Lauren said matter-of-factly.

    "Can''t you just use your rod?" Bert asked.

    "Out of mana," She said simply.

    "Do you want some gold to fill it?" Bert offered, rifling in his pants pockets. "I got six gold left how much does it cost to use?"

    "It costs five gold, but I wouldn''t be able to repay you," She replied waving him off.

    "No repayment necessary," Fritz responded for his friend.

    "Why?" Lauren said, suspicion creasing her brow.

    "''Cause you''re pretty," Rosie interrupted. "Pretty girls get all the gold."

    "Because, I want to see if you can actually become a fire elementalist in a water-aligned spire," Fritz corrected smoothly.

    "I am offering because you''re pretty," Bert said with a wink.

    Lauren scowled at him.

    "Not in a million Tolls," She stated.

    "Hah. Fair enough," Bert laughed, taking the blunt rejection in stride and holding out a hand with the five triads anyway.

    Fritz chuckled and Lauren turned her head away rejecting the glinting gold haughtily.

    "Whoops! This gold is just so slippery," Bert said dramatically while he grinned and dropped the triads into her lap.

    Fritz rolled his eyes as he saw her stack the gold next to her then pointedly ignore them.

    "Just take it," Fritz said with a sigh. "There''s no point in denying our generosity. If you do you''re only going to hurt your chances at getting a fire-aligned Path."

    Lauren huffed but Fritz ignored it and turned to the rest of the team watching on with some interest.

    "Can I have some too. I think my ring is empty," Rosie asked.

    "Sure," Bert said handing out the last of their gold.

    Fritz nearly hissed at him, but quickly hid it under a gracious smile as Rosie took the proffered triad from Bert''s hand with a wide grin.

    She instantly fed the gold to her ring and watched as it flaked away into pale dust then nothingness.

    "Whoa," Rosie said. "That''s so weird. This must be where all the gold goes, into Treasures and stuff."

    "What do you mean? Where it all goes?" Bert asked.

    "If climbers are always bringing gold out of Spires then there should be tons of it, but there isn''t," Rosie explained scratching at her head.

    Fritz nodded at the observation.

    "There are tons of it, and many other mana-dense materials besides," He corrected. "Just not for us in the gutters."

    "Where is it all then?" Rosie asked.

    "Well it''s not like you''re wrong, a lot does go into re-filling Treasures and magic items. But the nobility also tend to wear their wealth or store it away in private vaults when its too inconvenient to haul around with them. What use is gold if it''s not on hand to power one''s Treasures?" He asked rhetorically.

    "You can buy stuff with it," Carter supplied with surety.

    "You can," Bert agreed sagely.

    Fritz smiled but didn''t find the subject interesting. Preferring to get moving rather than talk about what the wealthy did with their hoarded gold.

    "All Aligned?" He asked.

    They nodded one by one, each stating they had mostly focused on the body enhancing Attributes rather than the mind based ones. Only Carter had bothered to spread his mostly evenly with a small focus on Strength.

    Fritz complimented their choices causing them to smile proudly of beam from the praise. Rosie especially didn''t seem used to being treated kindly and he could nearly see the affection mixed in with accumulating loyalty rippling behind her pond-scum eyes. In fact, when he looked he could see that more and more they were beginning to trust him.

    It was a good sign that they were warming to his and Bert''s peculiarities quickly. Lauren seemed to be the only holdout, but from the corner of his eye, Fritz could see her surreptitiously feed the gold triads to her Treasure.

    "Listen up team," He called out, so even Bert, who was pacing between the Doors as if ready to jump through one at any moment, could hear. "There are three Doors, as is usual, but I''ll tell you what I can about each so we can be agreed upon which one to go through."

    "How much can you even know? It''s not like you''re a Guide," Lauren said sourly, obviously still in a dark mood due to her offered Abilities.

    "You can still use your other Senses," Fritz espoused. "Sight, sound, smell and taste."

    "Taste?! Have you been licking the Doors again?" Bert called out. "It''s not a good habit. You should be more mindful of where you put your tongue."

    Fritz sighed as if all the world''s woes were wearying him instead of just the one in the form of Bert.

    "That''s a bit rich coming from you, Bert. Considering what you do in your spare time," Fritz responded offhandedly.

    Bert just grinned and flipped him a rude gesture.

    The team laughed at their somewhat performative bickering, even Lauren seemed to be suppressing a smirk.

    "As I was saying," Fritz said. "There are three Doors, and we need to pick one."

    He knew he could just pick one and have them all follow him as they did in the landing room but Fritz wanted to build a rapport and a bond of trust between the team. Which meant letting them think that their opinions were valued more than was strictly the case. It''s not that he didn''t care what they thought but he valued his judgement far more than theirs, especially in the case of Doors and Floors.

    "Which one tasted best?" George asked with a laugh.

    "The leftmost one," Fritz proclaimed with a chuckle. "Almost like a lime tree."

    After the team''s laughter had died down Fritz continued, "On a more serious note the leftmost door is an underwater jungle full of flourishing fruit and fat fish. While the middle door seems to be a series of flooding caverns which is wildly dangerous. The last door seems to be the safest, having the cleanest air and no obvious signs of danger."

    "So, which Door should we choose?"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 18

    The conversation as to which Door to take was brief and somewhat boring.

    Fritz described them a second time, highlighting the first as somewhat dangerous, the second as very dangerous and the third as barely dangerous.

    Bert, of course, voted for the very deadly flooding caves.

    Fritz leaned on the side of taking the somewhat dangerous underwater jungle but they were both thoroughly outvoted.

    "Alright, clean air it is," Fritz said somewhat disappointed they''d chosen the easiest, and therefore the most boring, one. After the team had aligned their Attributes and marvelled at their new strength and Abilities, Fritz thought they might want to take a little bit of risk. Maybe want to try out their new Powers, but alas, it was not to be.

    He did, however, console himself with the thought that it wasn''t likely there was no danger at all. That and there might still be secrets to find.

    "Follow along my newly leveled fellows," Fritz announced as he heaved his pack onto his back. "We have a Spire to Climb!"

    Bert cheered and followed while the others did so with a bit more wariness, whispering to each other in subdued tones. The quiet talk didn''t sound mutinous but it still seemed they were some reservations about their esteemed leaders. Fritz only blamed them a little, Bert was a madman after all.

    Striding under the painted, red, wooden arch and up the creaking steps he led them up to the next Floor.

    The air was clear and cool, a bright blue sky sprinkled with small white clouds greeted Fritz as he stared into the new Floor. They seemed to be at the bottom of a valley, terraced pools rising all around them like an endless mountain range. Thin, drooping trees dotted the landscape, their long branches covered in leaves only a slight shade darker than the sky.

    Fritz suspected that they were something akin to the sapphire willow that grew in his mother''s garden, or the one that used to sit inside his own Sanctum. Before it had changed.

    At the very tops of the terraces, on lush, green knolls, were brightly painted wooden buildings and towers, enclosed by fences and arrayed like villages even if they seemed subtly wrong to his sight and sense.

    Looking behind himself, so as not to stare at the sight of the too-familiar trees he found, he saw that the stairway seemed to be cut into the bright green grass that covered the hill-like walls. After collecting himself he turned back around, facing the floor and all it had to test him with.

    He strode across the green grass, down into the basin until he was knee-deep in water, clear as newly cleaned glass. Through it, he could see neat lanes of black seaweed running the entire length of the massive pool and their dark, slippery leaves caressed his legs gently.

    He felt like an intruder in this still and silent world, like some callous calamity come to ravage the calm and maim any peace or prosperity.

    Fritz splashed ahead, getting out of the way of Bert and the others as they stepped through the door and into the water below joining him in taking in the wondrous sight.

    "This floor is much nicer," Lauren observed as she took in a large breath and sighed it out contentedly.

    "It''s not dry, but it''s not raining," Rosie said staring up at the light blue overhead. "Think that''s what the real sky looks like?"

    "Nah, it''s probably yellow or white. Like the sun is," Carter said dismissively.

    Twenty feet away something moved beneath the water, rustling the gently waving dark leaves beneath.

    "Did you see that?" Fritz asked, just as there was another flash of white scales between the black stalks of seaweed.

    "I think I did," Carter said, squinting to where Fritz pointed.

    Fritz motioned for his team to stay back as he stealthily sloshed through the water. He grimaced, realising it would be hard to stay silent unless they stuck to the walls and ridges.

    When he had reached where he''d glanced the patch of white, he peered through the seaweed but found no sign of whatever he had seen. Something moved in the distance. What Fritz had taken for a post or one of the sparse, thin willow trees started striding towards him.

    It was at least seven feet tall and its eerily human-like limbs were thin and pale. Its stooped body was covered in a blanket or maybe a loose robe of rough, brown-black cloth, looking almost like a filthy hessian sack. The thing''s head was hooded and wrapped with strips of the same material, covering its face like bandages. With three fingers it clasped some long pole of wood capped with three sharp beaks of iron. The strange implement was like a strange mix between a pitchfork, scythe and a hoe.

    The thing came forward slowly on legs like stilts that barely disturbed the water as it strode. The way it moved was both graceful and somehow wrong, like it was a puppet and a parody. Fritz got the impression that it wasn''t charging them, nor was it getting ready to spring an attack. He motioned for his team to wait for his signal and to only to strike the tall creature if it showed any ill intent.

    As it got closer Fritz got a better look at its hidden features, mostly the large, milky eyes that stared at him dumbly. Its bared skin seemed to have some swirling pattern of light, raised scars like it had been burnt and branded with strange circular shapes. When it was within six feet it stopped and raised one of its grotesque hands.

    It waved a finger at them, seemingly in warning.

    "What?" Fritz asked.

    "No," The creature rattled out in a rough whisper on the very edge of hearing.

    "No?" Fritz asked astonished that it spoke.

    "No, take, white, scale," It laboriously elaborated.

    "White scale?" Fritz asked dumbly.

    "Sacred," It intoned pointing at its feet.

    He looked down and found it wasn''t actually pointing at its feet but at a six-foot-long eel, with scales as white as plaster that coiled around its leg then swam away lazily.

    Lauren gasped.

    "Clearblood eels," She hissed with some avarice glimmering in her eye.

    "No, take," The thing said still staring at Fritz.

    "Oh. Well, we don''t want your eels," Fritz lied. "Do you know where the Stairway is?"

    Without another word it turned and walked away, seemingly done with its warning. The team stood there for some moments not moving and not speaking.

    "What in the Abyss was that thing?" Carter said.

    "I think it was a man-alike," Lauren said.

    "It must be," Fritz agreed.

    "And what''s that? Some kind of monster?" Bert asked, rubbing his knuckles.

    "Yes and no," Fritz said tilting his head this way and that.

    "Why haven''t I heard of them?" Bert continued.

    "Maybe because you don''t pay attention, but mainly because they''re not common and people don''t like talking about them," Fritz explained.

    "Why don''t people talk about them?" Rosie asked, sloshing up beside him to stare at the man-a-like''s retreating back.

    "They''re uncanny. Didn''t you see how wrong they were?" Fritz said.

    "Not as scary as the lobsters," Rosie stated.

    "I think...I think I wouldn''t want to boast about slaughtering a bunch of creatures that resembled, however strangely, humans," Fritz hedged.

    "What about Goblins, Elves or Orcs?" Rosie countered.

    "They''re different, goblins are faeries and Elves are a human strain like Merfolk. Though there may be elf-alikes in some of the life-aligned Spires," Fritz said, with somewhat shaky conviction.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "Doesn''t seem that different from killing goblins," Bert said.

    "Yes, but this thing didn''t attack us and it spoke," Fritz said.

    "It spoke?!" Bert asked incredulously and the sentiment was echoed by the entire team as they voiced their own surprise.

    "Yes, didn''t you hear it whisper not to take the ''white scales''?" Fritz said somewhat shocked and suspicious that they were playing some sort of joke on him.

    "No," Lauren said. "I just saw it point at the clearblood eel."

    "I saw the same," Bert agreed.

    "Huh," Fritz said. "What''s a clearblood eel? Are they valuable?"

    "Yes! Their meat is both a delicacy and a restorative. But the real prize is their venom which is a valuable alchemical material," Lauren explained eagerly, as only an ambitious appraiser could.

    "Venom?" Rosie squeaked.

    Fritz looked to see one of the eels lazily circling her legs, flaring its blue gills. They were sightless things, having no eyes and blindly swimming through the pools that were their entire world with only scent and touch as their guides. Oh and apparently taste.

    "Yeowch!" Bert yelled, having lunged and grabbed the eel by its middle and been bitten in return.

    He held the wriggling thing and pulled its clamping jaws and long glass-like fangs from his flesh. Thin and watery blood poured from two one-inch holes in his arm.

    "No!" Rosie cried. "You got yourself bit!"

    "Worry not," Fritz proclaimed. "Bert''s recovery is far greater than a normal man''s. A constitution rivalling the greatest of heroes."

    Bert grimaced as his bleeding didn''t stop but instead lightened in colour becoming almost pink, dripping ceaselessly down his arm.

    "Isn''t that right, Bert?" He added, a note of worry seeping into his voice.

    Bert seemed to wobble and his skin paled around his wounds, becoming as white as a Know-note.

    "Uh, Fritz, you got any of that anti-toxin?" He asked calmly.

    Fritz quickly searched through a belt pouch and threw him a vial of the anti-toxin.

    "I don''t think that will work," Lauren said worriedly. "I think the venom works a different way, purifying rather than rotting."

    "How could purifying someone hurt them?" Rosie asked.

    "You need blood not water in your veins," Fritz noted darkly as he watched the trickling blood get ever fainter in colour.

    Bert drank the antitoxin anyway. then sat against the sloping grass and began to breathe slowly.

    "Clearblood eels," Carter said. "I get it now." He added as he also watched the holes drip.

    "Well!" Fritz said. "We need to get to the Well."

    He couldn''t feel the Stairway, unlike the first floor, which either meant it was hidden away or too far to feel with his Door Sense''s passive area.

    Fritz spun and focused on his Door Sense, tuning it to his Awareness and spreading it as far as it could go. He still couldn''t feel the Stairway so he stretched the Attribute to its limits then felt something odd as he strained at the edges of its range.

    His head began to spin and nausea roiled in his gut, his whole sense of direction bucked and heaved before he could pinpoint what he felt or find the Stairway up.

    Fritz felt too many things, too many places, too many dim thoughts all at once. His skull started to split and he splashed into the pool up to his neck and saw the rippling of the water spread out until it alighted against the grassy wall or the legs of the man-alike as it hideously glided towards them again.

    The ripple''s shallow waves inflamed inspiration in Fritz and he pulled back his Awareness, letting it float around him like a cloud bank.

    He regained his feet as soon as his head stopped spinning, his vision settled, and the scream of silent sounds stopped. And just in time as the man-alike ''farmer'' brandished its rake-claw threateningly at Bert who still held the writhing eel.

    "Drop the eel!" Rosie shrieked.

    Bert looked dazedly at the white-scaled thing and threw it into the water at the creature''s feet.

    The man-a-like ceased menacing them almost immediately, then waved a finger at them in ominous warning before striding off.

    Fritz shook his head.

    "Are you alright, Fritz?" George asked. "You weren''t also bitten were you?"

    "I wasn''t bitten. I just pushed too hard on Awareness," Fritz explained through the fog of his aching head.

    "Bert? How are you feeling?" He asked, turning to his friend.

    "Better," Bert said.

    And he did look healthier, or at least the blood had stopped flowing, which had to be a good sign. That and the colour was starting to return to his skin, well what little colour there was to return.

    "The tonic?" Fritz asked, with a relieved sigh.

    "Don''t think so," Bert said.

    "What do you think then?" Fritz asked.

    "Bones," He replied simply, glancing around at the others and subtly signalling Fritz he''d explain in detail later.

    "Bones?" George asked, a thoughtful look appearing on his face as he looked between Bert''s bracers and Quicksilver''s hilt.

    "Fantastic!" Fritz cried. "Really had us worried there Bert. I would berate you for acting so foolishly but I know you only put yourself in harm''s way to save our precious flower Rosie."

    Carter snorted. "Precious flower, more like a stinging weed!"

    "Hey!" Rosie yelled. "I could be precious! I could be a flower!" She said as she started lightly slapping her brother on the arm over and over.

    "Ouch! You''re stinging me!" Carter said. "See what I mean!"

    Fritz ignored the bickering and returned his thoughts to his recent inspiration.

    Instead of using all his Awareness and his Door Sense and trying to hold onto it all for as long as possible, he wondered if he could stretch it out for just as far as it could go for just a second, then let it collapse again. A ripple in a still pond rather than the constant roiling of a sea as it currently seemed to work.

    He needed to test it.

    Fritz looked inward, pulling in his Awareness until he could no longer feel those vague impressions of where everyone was standing and the minute flashes of enigmatic emotions that emanated from them. He could feel his Attribute hovering over his skin and tried to draw it even closer but it wouldn''t budge any further. It was like his body was a wall of impervious stone covered by a mist of fuzzy feeling.

    With an effort of will he forced his Awareness out, and found it was far harder pushing it out than pulling it in. Slower too, he noticed, as it glided away like a cloud bank on a strong sea breeze. He ignored the innumerable impressions assaulting his senses, focusing only on the feeling of Door Sense as his Awareness expanded over the land.

    When his senses reached their limits and could stretch no further he pulled back on his Awareness as hard as he could, sucking back to his skin within moments.

    Fritz smiled painfully as he sweat and his head ached, but it was far more manageable than trying to hold it that far for an extended period.

    He decided to label this technique as pulsing, mainly on account of the kind of pain it produced in his mind, but also because it felt right to.

    He attempted to try out his new discovery again and found the ''pulse'' far more sluggish, slow and unresponsive, both in the quality and quantity of impressions. He could feel over only half the distance he had before when the pain came back twofold and he quickly pulled his Awareness back as he cried out.

    "What''s wrong?" Bert asked worriedly.

    "Nothing. Just...experimenting," Fritz supplied sheepishly.

    "Do you have to do it in the middle of a floor?" Bert asked.

    Fritz winced, his senses still raw from the pulse. He silently hoped he hadn''t broken anything in his brain as he replied, "You''re right. Give me a moment."

    They did, they gave him a whole nine minutes as they stood about staring at the odd landscape, commenting on the strange sights and the alien weirdness of the man-alike farmer.

    "It''s not even doing anything," Carter groused. "It just mills about."

    "Yeah, it''s not really farming at all!" Rosie agreed in incredulity.

    "Lazy lout!" Bert joined in.

    It was strange, Fritz supposed, but that was the Spire''s for you, they didn''t make sense at the best of times and seemed utterly bizarre at the worst. Like some sort of dream or nighmare.

    "At least it''s not trying to murder us," Lauren said.

    "I would welcome it to try," Bert declared raising his fists in its direction.

    "Right, I''m feeling better," Fritz said, standing from where he was seated along the grassy slope.

    He wasn''t being exactly truthful, his head still ached somewhat and his Awareness still felt dull and raw. It was definitely recovering but slowly. He wondered how the Advanced Attribute actually worked and if he could do similar things with his Control, Grace or Dusksong. He supposed he''d already been doing it with Control, like when he broke through the goblin chief''s compulsion. But the idea that the same could be done with the others intrigued him.

    However, this was not the time to test them, as Bert had reminded him.

    "I want to check out one of those ''villages'' at the peaks. It''ll probably have a clue about where the Stairway is. And higher is always better," He said, laying out his plan.

    "Except when it''s not," Bert said.

    "Except when it''s not," Fritz agreed easily, much to the exasperation of the team.

    With that they set out, climbing the grassy slopes and wading across the waist-deep pools. It was only mildly difficult and the complaining was minimal. In fact, the team seemed to be in much higher spirits than the last floor and were joking chatting and laughing as they exerted their new Enhanced Attributes and tested their new strengths and Abilities.

    It turned out Carter''s Heave worked well when climbing, allowing him to scale the slightly steep slopes with ease, he did suffer from the Stamina drain though. But Carter remarked that it was well worth the cost.

    The other''s Abilities were far less suited to the endeavour, having taken more combat-focused choices. They weren''t disappointed though, far from it, and they all searched eagerly for ways to apply their new Powers.

    All except for Lauren who was panting heavily and muttering un-lady-like curses under her breath.

    Carter offered to carry her with his Ability, but she declined, saying that "it''s not dignified" as she pulled a stray blade of grass from her hair and wiped her muddy palms on her battle robes.

    Fritz decided against commenting on her messy state and just called out for them to hurry along, as it seemed the sun was beginning to set.

    "I want to be up there before nightfall," Fritz said. "It''d be a nightmare for you lot to try and move around in the dark."

    Lauren huffed but only she could be blamed for her holding onto her Attributes and Abilities.

    Fritz thought the choice a foolish one. You should take all the Power you can when it''s offered, he told himself, then realised he still hadn''t aligned his own Attributes in his haste to get moving. He would have to do it when they had to rest or would sneak a moment to do it at the next Well where he was to be offered his next Ability choice.

    They finally reached the top of the terraced hill, finding it surprisingly flat. There, just as Fritz had seen, was a small village with a tall willow in its centre yard.

    Everything about the place was ever so slightly wrong. For one the small wooden houses with bright red shingled roofs were too short for the twenty or so man-a-likes that aimlessly ambled around. They seemed to be built for people half Fritz''s size, perhaps a goblin might fit in comfortably but not a man and definitely not the creatures.

    The man-alike''s weren''t identical, some were taller and others sightly wider, but they were identically dressed in the same hessian sack-robes and carrying the same style of claw-rake. When Fritz and his team cautiously entered the village proper the eerie things ignored them completely and continued on in their bleakly benign behaviours.

    For two there was a market with no goods or foods just tilted stalls that lay empty. A man-alike stood behind the table as if selling and more stood around as if buying, all clasping their strange claw-rakes and standing as still as statues. Silent as stones. Soulless as the Spires.

    To call it eerie would be a disservice, they were unnatural at their core and watching them gnawed at the edges of his sanity. Fritz''s skin crawled and he shuddered from a sudden chill deep in his heart.

    "Yeah.. okay," Rosie muttered. "I can see why people don''t talk about them now."

    Fritz heartily agreed with her, even though these ones weren''t aggressive like others he''d heard tales about, they were just horrible to behold. He''d likely keep the tale of this floor to himself, fighting the Hound was a far better story to tell anyway.

    He turned away from the false market and peered over the hills. The sun was setting in the distance and they were given a grand view of the surrounding peaks and pools. Beneath them, in a great basin filled with water was a grand tower, halfway built but obviously abandoned. And, with certainty, Fritz knew that the Stairway up was in that building.

    As the orange of dusk flowed over the terraces they could see hundreds, no thousands, of small dots of light, like small embers appear within the pools.

    Lauren gasped, Carter stared in awe, Rosie was silent, and George sighed.

    "Whoa," Bert stated.

    The last of the light disappeared as did the small specks of orange with it. Fritz was sad to see the lights go, but sadder still they had to wait for the dawn to leave this floor.

    He was broken out of his thoughts by the shuffling of cloth and sudden shambling of movement as the man-alikes left the village yard and squeezed into their houses. When they inevitably couldn''t fit most just lay down in the dirt and slept.

    Or pretended to sleep.

    "What do we do now?" George asked.

    "We rest, and wait for the dawn," Fritz said. "Then we go to that tower. I think the stairway is in there."

    "Why not just go now?" Bert asked.

    "Too dark, imagine how easy it''d be to trip and drown in this moonless, starless night," Fritz said motioning at the empty black sky.

    "Fair enough," Bert agreed to the shudders of the levelers.

    "Let''s set up camp, it seems to be safe up here," Fritz said.

    "For now," Lauren mumbled.

    "Yes. For now."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 19

    The darkness of the night was near total. So much so that even Bert, with his Night Vision Award, had trouble seeing more than a couple of feet in front of him. Eventually he brought out the amber glowstone from his pack and shone its bright swirling light in the small yard where they decided to set their camp.

    Fritz pulled out the iron bullseye lantern frame he had bought some days ago and attempted to place the stone within it. The glowstone''s odd and uneven shape didn''t slot in perfectly in the housing but George offered to remedy that small problem. He brought out a small hammer and he got to work bending the metal into the right shape.

    "It would be easier if the iron was hot," George stated with a meaningful glance at Lauren and her volcanic shortsword.

    With a sigh, she handed the blade over to him and he was able to bend the frame so the glowstone sat securely in the lantern. When it was done he placed it in the centre of their camp and they set up their bedrolls around it. The focused beam of light it shed barely swirled and even though it only spat it out in one direction it was a damn sight better than the hypnotic, almost-nauseating, spinning radiance of the raw glowstone. Or no light at all for that matter.

    To Fritz''s mind it was a great success, and he told George so, praising him greatly for his skill in ''black-smithery''.

    "Wasn''t difficult," George said humbly, but he still smiled proudly.

    Fritz thought about lighting a fire but it seemed the night had only brought darkness, the clear breeze carried that same mild warmth it had during the day.

    Before they slept, they ate; Fritz, Bert, Rosie and Carter ate the smoked shark strips while the others ate their own store of rations.

    "You say the eels are delicacies?" George asked as he munched on a strip of smoked fish, obviously not impressed with the taste.

    "Yes," Lauren said. "I hear they''re wonderful, their pure bodies soak in the spices, juices or wines, intensifying the flavours delightfully."

    "Thought it would be the other way around, that it''d remove the bad flavours or something," Carter said.

    "That would be the venom, and their blood to a lesser degree. When they''ve been properly prepared, which includes exsanguination and removing the venom glands. Their meat is very absorbent," She recited.

    "You know a lot about cooking, for someone who doesn''t cook," Rosie bluntly observed.

    Lauren smiled weakly from where she sat upon her bedroll.

    "A good wife should know good food, even if she need not cook it herself," She quoted in a slightly shrill imitation of some overbearing woman. Likely her mother by the imperious tones.

    "They''re also valuable. What kind of merchant''s daughter would I be if I couldn''t identify some of the more precious materials found within the Spires of Rain City?"

    "The kind that runs away to Climb a Spire," George said with a sly smile.

    Lauren glared at the man, who held up his hands in sudden surrender.

    "No judgement here, I did the same," He admitted. "Packed up and left. Don''t know if my master even noticed. Or cared."

    George turned his dark gaze to the lantern and sighed.

    "Why did you run?" Rosie asked. "I know if I had a steady profession I wouldn''t want to risk my life in a Spire."

    "''Cause they''re idiots," Carter said, with a surprising amount of bitterness. "I know I wouldn''t be here if I had anywhere else to be or had a steady profession or prospects."

    "Are you sure about that?" Fritz asked. "I gave you a choice, you didn''t have to follow."

    Carter shuffled uncomfortably under Fritz''s stare.

    "This was the best choice I had. Doesn''t mean I have to like it," Carter replied.

    A small anger burnt in Fritz''s gut at the ungrateful comment but he quickly quenched it, remembering how he had felt on his first Climb. When he was thrown into the Sunken Spire with nothing but a sack full of questionable supplies, he was furious too.

    "True as the rain," Fritz sighed, trying to sympathise with the Carter''s plight. Lest he truly become as aloof, flippant and pompous as his projected persona.

    While it was true Carter had chosen to Climb, it was as he said; what other choice did he have? To starve or be swept away in a flood?

    A small spark of guilt flashed in Fritz''s chest, leaving him feeling like he was just like Nic and the Nightshark. Villains who exploited the weak and desperate for their own gain and gold.

    He shook his head, rapidly ridding himself of the ridiculous feeling. Fritz knew he was suffering under the same fate as Carter; the whims of the powerful that shaped the life and conditions of himself and everyone in Rain City; a fate he had only just begun to question.

    "Rosie! Want to get started on training!?" Bert yelled, breaking the tense silence while jumping to his feet.

    "Yes!" Rosie responded in kind.

    "Are you sure? The Arte Pugilist demands much from its disciples," Bert said, acting like some kind of martial sage.

    "What does it demand?" Rosie asked somewhat suspiciously.

    "It demands that you punch, punch and never stop punching! No matter what!" Bert proclaimed.

    Rosie broke out in a grin that matched Bert''s own.

    "Teach me!" She cried.

    Carter smiled gently at his sister''s exuberance while Bert began to reveal the secrets of the Arte Pugilist to his first disciple. Starting by correcting her stance then going through all the exercises and drills the tome depicted in black and red ink.

    Fritz turned away from the pair.

    "Seeing as none of you can see in the dark, I''ll take the first watch Bert will take the second," He said as the team began to relax, George even going so far as to take off his armour.

    It actually hadn''t been a full day yet, barely four or five hours by Fritz''s estimation but he found that the rest of his team wasn''t quite used to the pace he and Bert had been setting. So he let them catch some sleep.

    There was some tossing and turning, especially Lauren who couldn''t seem to find a comfortable enough position to lay in, but that was to be expected. She probably hadn''t slept outside a proper, soft bed in her entire life.

    Eventually, after the training, the group settled in around the lantern and got some rest. The mild black night passed by uneventfully with not a sound on the wind. Fritz finished his watch and woke Bert. Then stole some sleep for himself.

    He was surprised that he was able to sleep as easily as he did with all the man-alikes only a hundred feet away. But he supposed it was far better than when he was hunted by goblins on his second floor. That and this entire floor had a rather peaceful energy. A feeling of quiet and calm that fell over the plateaus and valleys like a thick blanket.

    He woke, and it was a fair enough way to wake. Bert was shaking him as dawn''s gentle rays splashed against the village and the man-alike''s stirred and stood.

    The movement and shuffling startled some of the team and they looked around blearily, confused as to why they weren''t at home in their beds, then remembering that they were in a Spire.

    "Good morning team. Let''s eat some breakfast and get moving. I want to climb at least another two floors today, three if we can manage it," Fritz declared.

    "That seems fast," Carter said wiping the sleep from his eyes but looking refreshed.

    "It is," Lauren said, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

    She yawned then continued, "Most Minor Spire climbs can take anywhere from a week to a month. Two weeks being the upper end of average for experienced Climbers. But you want to be almost halfway done in two days?"

    "Really?" Bert asked. "It takes that long?"

    "You didn''t know that? I thought you Climbed this Spire before," Lauren said suspiciously.

    "We did, we just did it quickly," Fritz lied confidently.

    "More likely that you left early," Carter said sceptically.

    "What?! No way, Fritz and Bert couldn''t be skippers," George protested. "They''re too skilled."

    Lauren frowned, obviously thinking along the same lines.

    Defending his secrets and maintaining his mystery, Fritz cut them off, "Breakfast! Then we march down to the flooded tower," He ordered.

    They mumbled their assents and began to eat then pack up. It took them about eighteen minutes, which was nine minutes too long for Fritz''s liking, but soon they were up and ready for the trek down the hill and into the flooded valley.

    As Fritz strode to the plateau''s edge he waved a goodbye at a man-alike and nearly jumped out of his boots when it minutely moved its rake-claw in response.

    Or had it? It was still again, maybe it was the slight breeze moving it?

    It didn''t matter. He returned his attention to the tower in the distance and wanting to confirm his hunch he decided to try out pulsing his Awareness again. Now that he''d had some rest and he felt mostly recovered he supposed it couldn''t hurt too badly to do so. His Awareness spread out slightly quicker this time and reached the bounds of its area within a few moments.

    Again the impressions pounded through his mind and seemed to rattle against his skull. As soon as his Door Sense trilled he pulled his Awareness back, leaving him only a little unsteady on his feet rather than sending him tumbling like last time. He had been right, a spot right at the top of the tower had resonated with his Door Sense.

    Fritz suspected that this new way to use his Awareness would come in very handy, especially when he aligned more Attributes to it. Though he wouldn''t do that yet, he felt his Memory and Focus needed to be shored up first so he could use the full power of his Awareness without suffering. He wouldn''t want to be overwhelmed again. But that was also after he levelled out his Strength, so he could finally not feel as heavy as he always did now due to his bones.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    So many Attributes so few points, he lamented inwardly, feeling the ache in his joints doubly this day.

    Plodding down the terraces was far easier than climbing them, which came as a relief to Fritz and the team. Though there were still some issues; a small slip here or there or the shriek of Rosie as an eel came near.

    "Why do you got to be such an eel squealer?" Carter groused.

    "Why do they always got to be chasing me!?" Rosie yelled. "Carter carry me!"

    "Get off me frog-face," Carter said Heaving his sister off him when she tried to jump onto his back.

    She splashed into the pool and sat up quickly, glaring at her brother. An eel circled around her curiously. It nudged her submersed shoulder with its snout then swam away slowly as if it had merely come to greet her and now had other more important matters to attend to.

    "They''re not exactly aggressive," Fritz observed. "Just ignore them, Rosie."

    "Yeah, they''re nothing like gutter eels," Bert said. "These ones only bite when you grab them."

    "Hate them eels," Rosie stated.

    "Agreed," Fritz said absently rubbing at a bite scar on his wrist. "Almost worse than skulg."

    "Almost," Rosie echoed.

    Bert grinned, "At least these things aren''t full of eel-intent."

    Fritz groaned, as did Carter, Rosie and Lauren. George however laughed uproariously, slapping his armoured thigh in mirth.

    Bert offered Rosie an arm up and she took it reluctantly, then they continued down to the tower with George still chuckling and mumbling, "Eel-intent, that''s good."

    Another one, Fritz grimaced.

    Once they had descended the last terrace and were now standing in calf-deep rather than waist-deep water, they began a sloshing, splashing sojourn. It wasn''t far to the tower but it took them an hour of trudging, and only took that long because Fritz was able to lead them around the various holes and hidden troughs of silt that would suck them down and hold them as sure as any giant squid. He, of course, was pretending to use his six-foot pole but was relying mostly on his Trap Sense to keep them out of danger.

    As they got closer to their destination Fritz could make out more of the details of what he assumed to be a false Spire. It was made of long planks of dark wood and bent slightly in the light breeze, like a drunk man struggling to stand on a street corner. Even this far from it Fritz could hear it creak ominously while the wind whispered through its ramshackle scaffolding.

    Once they reached the tower''s base and stood upon the wooden foundations above the waterline Fritz called for a rest. He hadn''t felt the dread of being hunted since the last floor but it was still good to be cautious, especially on the last stretch. The Sunken Spire had taught him that much at least.

    He cloaked himself in dusk and stealthily made his way within the shadowy structure. On the landing there was nothing save some large wooden buckets with rope handles taken with rot.

    There were uneven steps set into a staircase up so he walked up them with as light a tread as he could manage. The staircase cracked, creaked and the steps were too tall to take comfortably but he continued up without much worry, trusting his Trap Sense to trill when he was about to make a wrong move.

    The first floor was empty, as was the second, but on the third he found something. Three somethings actually. The skeletal remains of man-alikes with one of their number dressed in differently dyed sackcloth robes. Its rough garments were dull grey but were probably once the colour of the sky and it held a wooden hammer in one hand rather than the claw-rakes the other two did.

    Its elongated and bumpy bones were marred with grooves while the other two had their malformed skulls caved in by some blunt object long ago.

    Had they killed the builder of the tower and been slain in return?

    Fritz quickly searched the bodies, tearing away their robes and stirring the thick dust that lay upon them. He covered his face and nose but still the smell of sawdust wafted around him.

    Beneath the grey robes, there in the misshapen skeleton''s chest was something that resembled a lump of coal. An Aberrant Seed? Fritz reached into the rib cage and seized upon the cold stone only for it to turn to ash in his hands, seeping out between his fingers more like water than dust.

    He frowned.

    Had it been here too long? Did it rot away? Would the Hound''s Seed turn to ash like this, in time?

    Fritz shook his head discarding the thoughts.

    Stairway, he reminded himself as he searched. He could feel it vaguely above him so he continued up the stairs after wiping the ancient ash from his hand on the grey robes.

    He was right in assuming the Stairway was at the top of the tower but wrong in suspecting any danger. The stairs up were right there filling fully a tilted frame with no monsters or traps in sight or sense for that matter.

    With a shrug, Fritz returned to the team to find them sitting around and chattering. They were relaxed, too relaxed having taken off their shoes, drying them and their feet out.

    "Who''s on watch?" Fritz nearly growled, appalled as he was at their attitude.

    The team jumped in surprise.

    Fritz knew Bert was actually keeping an eye out but he felt it a good opportunity to remind the team to be on their toes lest they mess up and get someone hurt or killed.

    "Thought you were," Rosie said.

    "I was scouting. You need to be alert when we''re on a floor, triply so when we''re right next to a stairway. You never know when the Spire will try to trap, trick or kill you," Fritz said seriously.

    "I know it''s your first Climb, but remember: We''re always in danger in a Spire," He added darkly.

    "Sorry," Rose said. Which Carter and the team echoed.

    "Right, just make sure to assign watches next time," Fritz said. "The way up is clear, the stairs are a little rickety but it should be fine. Let''s us sally forth."

    They began to stand and put their boots and gear back on while Lauren looked over the pools with some longing in her green-yellow gaze.

    "What''s wrong?" Fritz asked.

    "Just thinking about all the gold we''re leaving behind," She said.

    "Gold?" Bert asked.

    "The eels are worth three gold dead and nine gold alive," Lauren explained.

    Bert''s eyes glinted.

    "What about the venom?" Fritz asked avariciously.

    "About a gold triad a vial," Lauren said.

    "Change of plans," Fritz said. "We''re going catch some eels."

    ---

    "You said you weren''t going to use us as bait. And why''s it gotta be me?" Rosie asked as she stood in the flooded valley and the eels slowly approached her.

    "Because for some reason. Who can say why? They love you," Lauren stated.

    Rosie grumbled, scrunched her eyes closed and waited. Fritz plucked the eels from the water as they came close then flung them into one of the wooden buckets they had taken from the tower. His hands were quick and skilful enough to avoid the blind biting and he barely felt any warnings from his Danger Sense.

    Guess I''m slipperier than an eel nowadays, he smirked to himself.

    The eel flailed and writhed, hissing and spitting as it slowly suffocated in the clean air. Bert grabbed the twisting thing and forced its glassy fangs towards an open jar. Its pure venom dripped forth, collecting at the bottom and looking more like liquid crystal than the poison they knew it was.

    They had decided on not bothering to keep the eels alive as it would be far too much hassle to carry up eight more levels. But some dead ones and some harvested venom, those were a far easier burden to bring along.

    They repeated this delicate dance six times before Fritz noticed something ominous.

    The man-alikes were on the move, striding down from their terrace-top villages and their pool farms.

    Determined to make the most of this venture, Fritz continued to snatch and fling two more eels into the bucket. It seemed the more of the wriggling things they gathered the faster the ''farmers'' moved, they were nearly running now.

    "Man-alikes are coming," Fritz warned his crew. "Lauren this is another chance to use your Treasure, try and hit as many as possible."

    Lauren nodded stiffly.

    "Oh and, Rosie, Activate your ring," Fritz ordered offhandedly.

    Before she even questioned the command her ring pulsed with that almost invisible blue light.

    "Why?" She asked belatedly.

    "You''ll see," Fritz said with a smirk, hoping his guess about the ring''s Ability was right.

    He was right and they did see. Eels, ten of them, then thirty, then nearly a hundred started swimming straight towards Rosie. It wasn''t their lazy gliding either but a roiling, coiling swarm of the white-scaled things swarming towards them in a frothing wave.

    Bert laughed as he saw them approach and brought out a net from a sack. He cast it out in front of a gaping wide-eyed Rosie, who then shrieked and scrambled up and onto the tower''s foundation.

    The net quickly filled to the brim and Bert heaved the net in, dumping the whole lot of eels in the bucket with a roar of laughter.

    The man-alikes were now sprinting and were faster than they had any right to be, slipping through the water as if gliding. They raised the claw-rakes in fury, and from them, Fritz could hear a whisper of such pure and distilled vitriol it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

    "They''re coming," Fritz reiterated. "Carter, Bert, take the tub of eels. Lauren stay with me. Rosie go!"

    They followed his orders rapidly as soon as they saw the horde of man-alikes sliding toward them and the tilted tower from all directions. They ran, then quickly but carefully ascended the stairs and leaving Fritz and Lauren behind. He heard the sloshing of the bucket for some minutes until it was cut off suddenly, likely due to passing through the Stairway.

    "Run once your spray stops," Fritz said. "Ready?"

    "Ready," Lauren replied, her brow furrowed resolutely.

    Fritz prepared his own Ability, grasping the shifting Dusksong in his centre.

    When the swift tide of tall creatures came within thirty feet Fritz yelled, "Now!"

    An intense heat blossomed beside him, and the spray of burning tar spat from the rod''s tip, covering the man-alikes and water below with unquenchable flame. Fire danced on the shallow lake''s surface and steam billowed, obscuring their vision.

    There was a sputtering of embers and the flame ceased spewing. Lauren ran.

    Fritz followed, weaving his Illusory Shadow in the tower''s door frame like a thin pane of shade. Immediately the light from the fire was cut off, the bright beyond muted in greys and blacks. The man-alikes cared not if they could see where they were going, or if they were on fire for that matter, and piled through the door, tripping and falling in a burning pile.

    Fritz fled. Urging Lauren to move quicker up the rickety stairs.

    Once they had reached the second floor, smoke rose through the tower''s many holes and they both began to cough. Lauren''s pace up the stairs slowed and Fritz felt the phantom bite of a claw-rake. He stepped out of the reach of a vicious chop and pushed the woman in front of him forward, almost causing her to trip.

    "Fritz!" She yelled.

    "Go! Faster!" He yelled back.

    With an unladylike growl, she hiked up her battle robes and began to take the too-tall steps in twos, stomping up the steps and causing them to creak worryingly.

    Fritz didn''t have time to care, he spun on a scorched man-alike as it was raising its claw-rake to strike again. He pulled an iron throwing dagger from his belt and activated Gloom Strike, wrapping the small blade in wisping shadows. He threw it underhanded right at the monster''s face, hoping to bury it in one of its mad eyes.

    He was wildly successful, the man-alike didn''t even see the dagger coming as it plunged into one eye socket. It fell back in surprise rather than pain and toppled down the tower, taking its fellows with it in a flailing ball of limbs.

    Fritz spun and continued up the stairs, easily catching up to Lauren''s panting back with his graceful steps. Just in time as in her frantic running she slipped, her boot sliding right off the tilted wooden step and into the smoky air.

    Lauren tumbled sideways, but Fritz was there, his hand skilfully gasping her arm before she could fall in truth. She was lighter than he expected or maybe he was just heavier and stronger than he previously assumed considering he was barely jolted by catching her wrist and arresting her movement. With just a tug she was sent safely into his arms.

    They were face to face and she stared into his eyes with pupils as wide as dinner plates.

    "Excuse my indiscretion," Fritz said as he began to employ one of the grappling manoeuvres outlined in the Arte Pugilist. He rapidly ducked and heaved her onto his shoulder.

    She would have screamed if the wind hadn''t been driven from her lungs from the sudden tackle. Fritz lifted her without much trouble and he ran upwards. His grace and Awareness guided him, while his Trap Sense warned him of particularly weak boards. Smoke filled his lungs and he spluttered and coughed.

    Without Lauren slowing him any longer, save her small weight and her pounding fists on his back, he was able to quickly navigate his way up and up and up until they had reached the Stairway. The choking air was taking its toll, his head spun and his eyes stung, blurring with tears.

    In a haze strode through the Door and onto the wooden stairs beyond. He kept climbing this time in a trudge rather than a run and eventually found the Well room.

    There was noise, someone coughing out words. Fritz breathed in the clean air and his head cleared somewhat as he was able to make out the meanings of the rasping tones.

    "I said, put me down you ruffian!.. Villain!... Brute!" Lauren demanded.

    Fritz complied setting her down on her feet gently.

    Lauren''s face was as red as a boiled lobster and she shook with rage that covered the obvious aftershock of terror. Her lips trembled and her eyes were streaked with tears.

    "My apologies," Fritz croaked.

    She spun and stalked away without another word. She was akin to a cat, outraged at being manhandled with her back and shoulders stiff and straight in dignified fury.

    Bert sauntered up to Fritz placing a commiserating hand on his shoulder, "Brute huh. I''m starting to think our Paths got mixed up."

    It wasn''t a good joke, or even a joke at all, but Fritz chuckled then broke into mad peals of laughter and Bert joined him.

    The team looked at them oddly but said nothing, George shook his head and smiled.

    Once they had done with their mirth Fritz scanned the Well room. It seemed to be the inside of a huge, empty temple made of wood. It was adorned with brightly painted red pillars and a tall white statue in its centre. Fritz almost leapt backwards when he saw the effigy, a fantastically lifelike and large clearblood eel, carved of pristine pale wood and poised as if it were a snake ready to strike.

    It glared blindly down on the team congregated at its base and Fritz approached on wobbly legs. Now that the excitement was over he felt his energy drain right out of him. Still, he made it to the statue and sat heavily, laying his back on its scaly carvings and turning his head from its judging stare.

    Surreptitiously he pulled in the power of the Well and felt it pool in his centre, causing the star in his centre to burn ever colder and brighter.

    He pretended to nap, and the others seemed content to let him do so, caught up as they were in their own conversations.

    Rosie complained loudly about her ''ring of eel attraction''.

    "You should be happy anything''s attracted to you," Carter remarked.

    With a slew of choice insults from Rosie the siblings began to bicker again in earnest.

    Fritz ignored them and fell into his Sanctum, eager to see his new offerings.

    In his Sanctum it was raining and his arm ached dully. Still not fully healed, but far better than it had been before. He clenched his fist and found it numb but nimble. He turned his mind to the power still swirling in the cloudy sky around and above his willow''s twisting branches, entreating him to put it to use.

    With a thought, he acknowledged the power and the offerings poured into his mind.

    ---------

    Active Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Word of Courage

    Heed my cry, hear the call, face the terror, standing tall.

    Empower an ally''s Resolve and dispel fear.

    Alignment: Boon, Mind, Sound.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: One minute.

    Refresh: Five minutes.

    ---

    You have given orders and rallied your team.

    Influenced by Mind Aligned Abilities (Trap Sense, Danger Sense.)

    Influenced by Mind Aligned Traits (Door Sense, Cloak of Dusk.)

    ---

    Lacerate

    Splattered scarlet and open veins, the rushing rivers of red remains.

    Your strike deals extra damage and causes increased bleeding.

    Alignment: Blade, Blood.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three Seconds, Affliction: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You killed many ''Leaping Lobsters'' through blood loss.

    You inflicted many bleeding cuts.

    Influenced by Technique ''The Observations''

    ---

    Water Strike

    Wrapped in water, clubs and blades, crush your foe, like crashing waves.

    Your strike deals extra damage, cools heat and quenches flames.

    Alignment: Water.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three Seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have killed many ''Leaping Lobsters''.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +6 Unaligned

    ---------

    Now what should I choose?

 Arc 2 - Chapter 20

    When looking over his offerings Fritz was immediately disappointed by the Abilities on display. Lacerate again, and a water-based strike and some, admittedly interesting, Boon Ability? They just didn''t feel right, nor did he think they would help him be a more capable Scout. Though just in case one might have some hidden uses or synergies he decided to take a look at them one at a time, assessing the benefits of each.

    The first of the abilities, and the most interesting by far, Word of Courage seemed to be an Enhancer Ability. He didn''t know exactly what increasing ''Resolve'' did but it could hardly be a detriment. The Ability''s second effect, that dispelled fear, an emotion that could make or break a fight, was powerful indeed. Or would be, if his Defender wasn''t already a fearless madman. It would still be of some use on the others of his team and was a great fit for a captain or back-liner.

    Unfortunately, he was a Scout and one focused on stealth not command so he moved on to the second choice.

    The next in line was Lacerate. Again. He knew he should blame his fighting style, Quicksilver''s edge and his Technique but it really felt like the Spire''s were messing with him at this point. He already had a Strike Ability and he didn''t really want or need another. Sure it could be useful, especially with the obvious synergy it had with his sword and bone dagger. And it would be nice to use both Gloom Blade and Lacerate together, stacking, or eventually fusing, them if he got the chance. What kind of fearsome Ability would that combination produce?

    But then again he felt that his Dusksong had little connection to the Blade or Blood Alignments. He wouldn''t be able to use it for Lacerate, which would inevitably slow him down and drain him heavily in fights. Much like before he got his Magic Attribute. He didn''t want to go back to resting after every little fight or needing to be carried to safety by Bert every time he exerted his Abilities.

    With a sigh, he considered the last and least attractive Ability: Water Strike. What was there to say about this one? It was another strike, this one even worse than Lacerate in his opinion. With all the same downsides and none of the potential upsides. It didn''t match any of his Alignments nor did it benefit from his Techniques. He didn''t have Essence of Water so it would be another drain on his Stamina. All in all it was a terrible choice so he ignored it completely.

    Comparing the two choices left made Fritz sag in his Sanctum. Neither of the Abilities really called out to him, being both unsuitable for his Role and boring to his soul.

    He smiled, perking up immediately as he remembered that these weren''t his only choices. His Golden Seed and the Ability within had called to him before. Now he could finally choose it.

    He flew from his Sanctum and surreptitiously looked around the echoing temple that was the Well room. Fritz found the team discussing, or rather debating, the qualities and uses of the Abilities they''d been offered. He left them to it as he sneakily raided his pack, opening his shaving kit then pulling out his cunningly hidden Seed.

    He popped open the hollowed-out soap bar and touched a finger to the Golden seed. He felt it resonate with his Sanctum and the Power within. Again he felt himself pulled into his centre and found himself standing under the dripping branches of his willow.

    Have to find a way to be more accurate with my landings, wouldn''t mind appearing in the pavilion every once in a while, he chided himself. Though it wasn''t like the rain was cold or uncomfortable he was just somewhat sick of it.

    He shook his head, warding off the water dripping into his eyes and the distractions pulling at his mind.

    He went over his offerings again, focusing on the new golden glyphs pouring into his mind from the Seed. He noticed he was still holding the glowing object while in his Sanctum, having brought it with him without even trying. And there, within the shining Seed, was the new, or perhaps old, choice he had stored in the Seed at the Precipice of the Sunken Spire.

    ---

    Lethargy

    Feeling tired? Getting slow? Take a rest, let it go.

    You curse a living creature; draining its Stamina over time and reducing its Stamina Recovery.

    Alignment: Curse.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Five minutes.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    It called to him just as it did when it was first offered, perhaps even more so as he knew somehow that this Ability Aligned perfectly with Dusksong, just as his Illusory Shadow did. While this Power didn''t kill or wound an opponent, it could definitely incapacitate them, rendering his prey unconscious if their Stamina dropped too low. A way to harm his foes without killing them or leaving a lasting injury. Something he had been dearly wishing for, especially after his most recent revenge.

    No more would he have to kill just to survive. Or so he hoped.

    There was no comparison to be made against the other two offerings, this was the Ability Fritz wanted, no, needed. Without hesitation he chose Lethargy.

    The Seed emitted a pulse of gold that swam through the rain and into his willow, the branches drooped slightly as if relaxing or letting go of some great burden. It gave off the strange appearance of dozing and seemed to be entreating Fritz to join it. Beseeching him to sleep under its lazily waving branches and their almost hypnotic, subtle movements. To let the whispers of its purple-stained leaves lull him to an eternal rest.

    Then the sensation was gone and his head cleared even as he was halfway through a yawn. He felt the new Ability settle into his chest and he sighed in relief. Even though he knew the Seed would work, there was always that doubt, always that fear, that something would go wrong at the last second. It hadn''t and now he had the Power to prove it.

    Now there was just the allocation of his alignments. He didn''t ponder long as he had been planning what to do with them for a while. The idea was to get his Strength up so he could swing his sword properly and not feel the effects of his moonsilvered bones.

    However, now that he knew that it would only be a twenty percent increase in his base strength if he used all six of his points, he reconsidered his plan. He shook his head. Strength was needed and it was lagging behind. Once he didn''t feel so slow and heavy he could worry about other Attributes.

    Should he split them up? He might as well test it. There were no downsides after all.

    He aligned three of his Attributes to Strength and felt his muscles swell and stiffen. His body pulsed with power for a moment then the feeling ebbed away, sinking into his flesh. His willow groaned and its roots grew, digging deeper into the mud and grass.

    With a thought, he was flying out of his Sanctum, then was glancing around at his team who were thankfully ignoring him. With a false yawn and true stretch, Fritz stood slowly. There was a noticeable improvement to his movements. For one there was less of a strain on his legs, back and shoulders. For two he he could barely feel the heaviness of his bones. Unfortunately, there was still some slight resistance, a certain sluggish sensation and still that incessant ache in his joints.

    With another sigh, he sat again and pulled out his guidebook chapter then pretended to read it, letting himself fall straight back into his Sanctum.

    He contemplated what to do, but was eventually set on aligning his next three Attributes into Strength, just so he didn''t have to worry about the strains and aches anymore.

    Once that was done then he could think on what to do from there, maybe some more Dusksong to power his Abilities? Or perhaps he could shore up his currently inadequate Focus and Memory? Or maybe even increase one of his other Advanced Attributes like Control or Grace for their odd but useful benefits?

    Fritz nodded, ceased his planning, and aligned his last three Attributes into Strength.

    Again his muscles surged with Power and with one last thought he called upon his Spire Sheet.

    The silvery glyphs appeared and he perused them for the changes he had just wrought.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 12

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    Sigil: Sunken Spire, Gold Award

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength:9

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 9

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 18

    Control: 9

    Dusksong: 6

    Grace: 6

    ---------

    Activated 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow''s grace, deliver foes, to night''s embrace.

    ---

    Lethargy

    Feeling tired? Getting slow? Take a rest, let it go.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it''s dire.

    ---

    Danger Sense

    Behind the boulder, up in the tree, lurking threats, can''t hide from me.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Cloak of Dusk

    Wrap yourself in twilight''s cover, what''s one shadow from another?

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow - Evolution 1/3

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Three out of three Active Abilities, next his Passives would be full. And past that threshold: Evolutions. Then at the end of this Spire his last Trait and the Awards would be... awarded. Fritz could hardly wait.

    Though he did wonder when he would be offered a Strain. He did know it was rare to get one, or at least the knowledge of how to get one was kept secret.

    The most common in Rain City was the Merfolk Strain and while he didn''t particularly want to become all scaly and wet he wouldn''t mind all the benefits it could bring. Like being able to breathe underwater or the increased strength and acclimation to the cold depths of the sea. It may not suit his Path, but more power was more power, and Fritz could never have enough.

    With a slight shake of the head, he prepared to leave his Sanctum, giving his ever-growing willow a fond pat in farewell before finding himself back in the temple.

    "Are you ignoring me?" Lauren hissed as he came too.

    She was standing over him and must have been talking to him earlier. According to the furious look she wore he hadn''t replied.

    "Ah. Must have entered some kind of reading trance," Fritz said with a smile he hoped looked apologetic. "You know how it is, you just get so engrossed in a book you can''t look away or hear a thing."

    She glared but slowly got a hold on her apparent anger.

    Until, once she had mastered herself, Lauren shuffled and glanced away. "I''m sure I don''t know what you mean."

    She stood there, looming over him, for some moment as if collecting her thoughts and planning what to say.

    Fritz let her find her words, smiling up at her.

    "I have thought through the events of the last Floor. And have come to realise that you may have saved my life," Lauren said.

    Fritz nodded, prompting her to go on. Her brow furrowed, probably from the anger and embarrassment he could see swirling off of her.

    "However undignified, savage, your methods were. You did save me from the burning tower. And my first words to you were not proper ones of grateful gratitude. They weren''t even kind. For that I apologise," She said seriously.

    "I graciously accept your apology, though you need not make it. Insults to my honour and virtue mean little to me and I was a brute through and through," Fritz said.

    Her frown retreated and a small smile lit her face.

    "Though know this, Lauren. Dignity and honour mean nothing in a Spire," Fritz warned, locking his eyes to hers. "It''s life or death here. These deadly perils have no room for proprietary or politeness. Only will and Power matter."

    Her eyes stared into his and she nodded slowly, hopefully taking his words to heart rather than just attempting to mollify him. He supposed that only time would tell.

    The silence between them stretched and she seemed to realise she was just standing there and staring at him.

    "You should go help the others," Lauren said quickly, breaking her eyes away from his.

    "The team needs help?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes. Carter and Rosie seem to be stuck between choices," Lauren supplied.

    "How about you?" Fritz asked.

    "I''m fine," Lauren said, her face a mask of suppressed emotions. Disappointment chief among them.

    Even after her apology Fritz knew well enough to leave that stone unturned, there was definitely a poisonous eel under there. And he didn''t much want to be bitten. He''d leave that to Bert.

    "Well, I''ll go offer my sage advice," Fritz said standing smoothly.

    He marvelled at how easy it was to rise to his feet and at how light his limbs felt. Fritz had to stop himself from sprinting, contenting himself with a short jog instead to test out his new Strength.

    I should''ve done this sooner.

    He hadn''t realised just how much his bones were weighing him down. How much he''d missed being able to move without the constant added effort of lugging about a bunch of metal below his flesh. Fritz grinned as he came to a quick stop after circling the statue the long way around.

    He looked over the faces of the assembled team as they sat and talked.

    It seemed that there was only Rosie''s choice left as the team watched her expectantly and her face was scrunched in thought.

    "What were you offered?" Fritz asked, joining the group.

    "They''re all passives but I got: Scaled Skin, Wavestrider and Animal Affinity: Fish," Rosie said grumpily.

    "I can guess what Scaled Skin does but what of the others?" Fritz asked, finding her bad mood entirely warranted. Those Abilities didn''t exactly sound appealing.

    "Wavestrider lets me move through water easier and the affinity one makes it so fish don''t attack me. Doesn''t make them do what I want, or like me, like a charm. Guess they''ll just leave me alone and ignore me. Like everyone else." Rosie said.

    "You could always just hold off on the choice like Lauren," Fritz said.

    Rosie looked up at that, meeting his eyes. "I can?"

    "Sure. Don''t see why not," Fritz offered. "Same goes for all of you. Although things only get more dangerous the higher you climb and I can''t promise to keep you all safe."

    "You should take the scaly skin. Can''t do much harm to your looks," Carter said with a teasing grin.

    "He''s right," Bert said without malice. "Merfolk have scales and many of them are beautiful."

    "I dunno. They always looked so slimy to me," Rosie hedged.

    "That''s part of the fun," Bert responded with a lecherous grin.

    That got a laugh from the team. Even Fritz smiled, though he was thinking about the breathtaking Merfolk he''d seen while in the harbour. He wondered where she was. He wondered who she was.

    Lauren walked to the group with disgust writ plain on her features, obviously having heard Bert''s comment.

    "Fritz, didn''t you want to climb at least another Floor today?" She asked impatiently.

    "Ah that''s true," He said. "I should go search those Doors. See what I can see."

    With that, he left to see what he could see from the Doors. He found himself standing opposite them when he felt something... amiss. There weren''t three just Doors. There were four. The three normal ones stood together right in front of him while another lay somewhere behind him, to his right near one of the thick red pillars.

    His lucky day, his team''s lucky day.

    But how to inspect it without giving away his Door Sense?

    "Bert!" Fritz called out.

    "Be right there!" He called back before saying one final thing to the team and jogging up. He glanced between Fritz and the Doors.

    "What''s wrong?"

    "Nothing wrong," Fritz said, then lowered his voice to a whisper. "Hidden Door by the pillar. Distract the crew for a moment will you."

    Bert nodded seriously, then ran back to the group and started talking animatedly, telling some tall tale about their adventures in the Spire.

    Fritz silently slipped closer to the painted pillar, making a conscious effort to use his Cloak of Dusk in the dark of its shadow once he had reached it. Feeling along the rough wood, searching for the Door''s arch his fingers caught upon a warm spot. He followed the heat, nearly burning his fingers on an edge of hot, hidden stone.

    The Door was there, covered by some kind of illusion. Fritz stared hard at the pillar and saw the slight heat haze it emitted and smelt the faint odour of rotting eggs. He waved his hand through the light trick and it bent and rippled at his touch like he was smearing the paint on a still-wet easel.

    The illusion reasserted itself as soon as he stopped interfering with it, becoming again the painted red pillar. It was indistinguishable from the others save for that heat haze that one had to be looking for to see.

    Knowing he had limited time before his presence was missed, Fritz reached out his Door Sense through the searing arch. Impressions poured into his mind, he stood in a natural path on a mountain of glossy black stone. A river of fire ran under his feet. A strange lizard with clacking obsidian scales and a singular horn, skittered on stumpy legs with its long, curved talons scratching against the dark rock. It fled into a crater by the path''s side, glaring over the lip with eyes like red hot coals.

    Fritz was sweating when he pulled himself from his vision of the floor beyond.

    Dangerous, he thought. But not a death trap.

    What kind of Abilities would the team be offered if they went through that fiery Floor? Fritz knew Lauren would jump at the chance to try this Door, as it seemed to break the common conventions of the Mer Spire by being distinctly more fire-aligned than water-aligned. Or so it seemed.

    Hidden doors tended to do that, offering rare opportunities to get Treasures or Abilities that were odd or unlikely. Or even completely unique as the one that transported him, somehow, into the world of faeries had been.

    He wondered if taking this Door was worth it. Would it be too suspicious for a group of leveless to come out with both Golden Climbs and some fire-aligned Abilities?

    Fritz worried for some moments before pulling himself back to the real and right now, banishing the thoughts of a terrible future that hadn''t come to pass. Yet.

    He reasoned he should check out the other Doors before he made a decision anyway.

    Maybe they won''t want to take this Door. Maybe they will go for something more safe, more boring he lamented. In his heart he hoped they would be filled with the same bold avarice and boundless ambition he was when he thought of the rare riches in the fiery Floor beyond the Hidden Door.

    Peering around the pillar and stealthily making his way back into the open air before the three ''normal'' Doors, Fritz inwardly sighed in relief. There was neither a call of alarm nor a clamour of questions about his whereabouts for the last minute or three.

    He doffed his Cloak of Dusk and took his time pretending to compare the Doors to the ''chapter'' in his hand. Acting as if nothing was amiss, nothing being schemed and definitely no plans to trick his team into a decidedly more dangerous Door.

    Scanning the first Door on his left, as was his habit, he found it to be a plane of glass or more likely still waters. It was cold, it was wet, and it was dull. Some kind of underwater maze of slick stone caves, filled only with seaweed and curious brown fish. He had water-breathing potions so this floor was likely to be a breeze unless it took them more than six hours or rather two doses of the potion each.

    With as much derision as he could muster he placed that Door on the bottom of his very short list of two.

    Fritz turned to the middle Door. This one was covered in some kind of bright green moss and smelled of cool damp dust. It reminded Fritz of the abandoned estates in the drowned district, though it seemed even older than those derelict dwellings. He let his Door sense pull him into an impression of the ruins of an underwater city, ancient white stone bricks coated by a creeping moss. Again there was barely a hint of danger from this floor, with nothing in the way of monsters.

    Another maze or perhaps it was a puzzle floor? He mused. More interesting than the last one at least.

    The third and final of the normal Doors was quite narrow, more an uneven crack in dark stone than a real archway. There was definitely water beyond and the stairs themselves seemed to be made of a slanting ramp of bleached sand, which on closer inspection was revealed to be fish bones. With only a small grimace Fritz felt out again with his Sense and was rewarded with the vision of a deep, dark trench far, far under the waves.

    The trench wasn''t just dark, no it was more like the lightless Abyss, the blackest hole from which demons and other more terrible monsters crawled. He could feel no demons, though how would he know if he had? There was, however, a terrible looming pressure both from the depth and from some terrible, tentacled monster. Closer to a malformed miscreation than the squid whose form it parodied.

    A luminescent eye, as wide as his forearm, round and silver-blue winked into existence before him.

    Fritz fell on his backside, startled out from his Sense trance. He rapidly reconsidered his stance on wanting to take a dangerous Door, deciding there was a definite difference between risk and ruin. And this door fell on the end of ruin. You couldn''t hope to outrun such a creature in its hunting grounds and you couldn''t hide from it either, it would already know all the nooks and crannies of its lair and would scoop you up and eat you with ease.

    "You okay?" George asked, startling Fritz a second time.

    He looked around from where he sat to see his team giving him worried or apprehensive looks. Fritz smiled wide to assuage their fears and suspicions but it may have just made him look like a maniac.

    "Fine, just tripped," Fritz said.

    "Tripped on what," Rosie asked bluntly as she searched the floorboards.

    "My own feet. Got too caught up in this chapter," Fritz said defensively, waving the sheaf of papers at the group.

    Bert grinned, letting Fritz stew in his feigned embarrassment that was starting to turn all too real under their disappointed stares.

    His friend didn''t let him suffer for long though, bursting through the slightly awkward silence with a pertinent question, "Anything about these Doors in it?"

    "Yes, my good friend," Fritz said, meaning it. This time. "I have concluded that each of these are likely underwater floors."

    Then as the group''s stares turned on the Doors instead of Fritz he went through some vague guesses about each, making sure that his observations seemed as plausible as possible. As though he had gotten his hints through just his normal senses and Awareness, rather than some rare and coveted Ability. Like Door Sense.

    Fritz felt he had to connive some way to convince them to chose the more dangerous Hidden Door rather than the underwater city or maze of caves. So he subtly played up the dangers of being underwater while bemoaning how bad the Paths offered would be if they kept being overly cautious.

    While he did so he wove some hand signals and code words into his explanations. Ones that he and Bert had worked out and expanded upon through their long, moderately successful, careers as thieves.

    Bert got the message and surreptitiously made his way to the pillar containing the Hidden Door and lazily stretched out a hand as if to lean on it.

    "Yeowch," He cried as he touched the Door''s arch through the illusion.

    The team spun on the sudden shout of pain and Fritz suppressed a smirk as he got to his feet and ran to his friend''s side in false fear.

    "What''s wrong?" Fritz called out as he reached Bert''s side. He gave him a wink that was returned mischievously.

    "This pillar!" Bert called out as if offended by its very existence. "It burnt me!"

    "Hey! Do you see that?" Carter asked as he came closer.

    "See what?" Fritz asked, actually mildly surprised.

    "It''s like the wobbles over a fire," Carter said.

    "Oh. Yes, I see that. Good eye Carter, I''m surprised I missed it," Fritz said affably, clapping the man on his shoulder. Too hard it seemed as the man winced and there was a loud thud. "It''s called a heat haze," He continued hurriedly before Carter could question the new strength that Fritz had forgotten to control properly.

    Taking the lead again Fritz strode closer to the Door and ran his hand through the illusion.

    "It seems we are in luck, Great luck," Fritz proclaimed. "A Door! A Hidden Door! And one that is decidedly hot."

    The team stood still, staring on in shock.

    "Maybe fire-aligned creatures and materials lie within?" Fritz posited, breaking their stupors.

    Lauren''s eyes sparkled and her frosty demeanour suddenly thawed as she stepped closer to investigate the Door herself.

    "Another Door?" Rosie whined. "I thought there was only meant to be three."

    "Hidden Doors. They break convention," Lauren espoused eagerly. "They''re random, rare and full of...well... rarities."

    "I propose we go through this Door," she said waving a hand across the heat haze.

    "I agree, it looks fun!" Bert said raising a hand in a vote.

    "I''m with Bert, think of all the rare Treasures!" Fritz exclaimed, stoking the team''s greed.

    George looked on thoughtfully, running a hand over his scale-cloak as if considering its use in the heat. He nodded once, while the siblings looked at each other doubtfully.

    "Isn''t it going to be more dangerous, cause it''s so rare and all?" Rosie asked.

    "Not necessarily," Fritz lied. Then when she glared at him suspiciously he relented. "Sure it might be more dangerous than the other Doors. Save the one with all the bones, I have a bad feeling about that one. But it''s a Hidden Door! Can you really pass up such a fortunate encounter? Do you really want be offered weak Abilities because you choose the safest Door again?"

    She frowned and looked to her brother again who still seemed unsure.

    "Please," Lauren entreated Carter, her striking features forming a small sad pout that would move any man''s heart. The expression was somewhat amateurish compared to the seductive expertise Fritz had seen from Vee, so he remained untempted.

    Carter had no such defence. He gulped audibly, shuffled awkwardly and finally nodded his assent.

    The fool, Fritz thought. That blatant manipulation would never work on me.

    Lauren''s pout was suddenly replaced with a bright smile and she turned and met Fritz''s eyes. Warmth spread over his chest and up his neck.

    Maybe, he amended.

    With the last holdout, Rosie, sighing and agreeing, they began to pack up and get ready.

    "Where are the eels?" Fritz asked, noticing the bucket that used to house them was now filled with fish guts.

    "Either in jars or sacks," Bert said. "We sorted them out while you napped. Caught about thirty of them."

    "Get much venom?" Fritz asked.

    "It was difficult. Most of them suffocated before we could milk them. But we have eleven vials," Bert explained.

    Fritz nodded along.

    "Please don''t say you milked them," Carter said, grimacing. "Sound''s wrong. Unnatural."

    "Ain''t nothing wrong with a little eel-milking," Bert declared. "It''s perfectly natural."

    There were some chuckles there was some disgust, but mostly they finished the last of their preparations and met before the pillar.

    Fritz stood before the shrouded Door and looked back on all the eager anxious smiles then strode through. Though this floor was likely to be more dangerous than the safe ones, he knew he had made the right choice to push them towards taking this Door.

    What was a little heat anyway?

 Arc 2 - Chapter 21

    There was a lot of heat actually. The black stone under Fritz''s feet was uneven and cracked, but still slick like glass. He made little sound, creeping out into the dark mountain pass and ducking behind one of the jutting, jagged stones that littered the slope. The tall, glossy stones flanked the path forward, like fangs in some dragon''s maw.

    The sky was roiling with grey-black clouds and flashes of red light danced within, booming dully with distant thunder. It felt like the whole floor was shaded in reds and blacks, with only the bright orange of the rivers of liquid fire standing out amongst the haze.

    After mere moments, his team followed, joining him in hiding behind the stones, their eyes wide and ears alert for danger. Fritz gave them the signal to stay put while he scouted ahead. He pulsed his Awareness and Door sense, rapidly receiving a response. Upwards and to his right, towards the mountain''s missing peak and the heart of the suffocating heat.

    A dull ache throbbed in his mind from his short use of his Advanced Attribute, but it was well worth the pain.

    Fritz looked past the rocks and up the path, then over his shoulder and down the path. He saw no danger, but he was already beginning to sweat. From behind there was a slight incline leading up the mountain.

    He smiled. You''re Not going to get me with the ''forwards must be the right way'' trick.

    Fritz turned, starting his scouting mission, slinking from stone to stone. He peered in the many craters and holes that were scattered along the path''s edges. Some were as large as a bathtub and some as small as a bucket. Most were empty but a few were filled with the huge, single-horned lizards from his vision. The black scaled beasts seemed to be a solitary sort with none of the craters or cracks in the mountain housing more than one of them.

    Fritz saw that if any of the obsidian-scaled creatures met each other as they skittered from crack to crater they would fight until one was driven out. Though their talons were wickedly sharp they didn''t try to slash or cut with them. They would instead pry with their horns and bite at each other''s scales, trying to pull them off and pierce the hide underneath. However, the most shocking thing he saw was the sudden bursts of flame the lizards would spit at each other.

    A hissing whine, a flash of orange, splashing harmlessly on the glossy, black scales that reminded him of roof tiles. The victorious would keep the crater and the defeated would flee then languish in the cracks, licking its wounds and its missing sections of scales.

    Solitary and territorial, seemingly spurred to move by the infrequent rumbling beneath the ground.

    He was glad to be able to observe the creature''s strange habits and vicious demeanour from his hiding spot amongst the stones. With the combination of their rock-hard scales and wickedly sharp talons fighting these lizards would be tiring and potentially deadly for the pathless. He resolved to avoid these beasts where he could.

    While he watched, he suddenly felt the urge to test out his new Ability. To see the limits of the curse''s range and power. He snuck forward to a crater''s lip and peered down at a particularly gnarled specimen with a fine, long, black horn. Once he had caught a glimpse he called on his Dusksong and it shifted eagerly. A wave of cold, invisible energies flowed from his outstretched hand and settled on the creature below, embracing it with a cruel caress.

    Nothing happened. Fritz watched, knowing that Lethargy would take time to work. For some minutes there were no changes to the lizard''s bearing except a subtle dimming of its red-hot coal eyes. Then on the third, or maybe fourth minute, its thick eyelids began to droop and its stocky body began to sag. It shuddered, then slowly curled up with its tail wrapped around its scaly bulk. It slumped, closed its eyes to slits of red but didn''t sleep.

    Damn, Fritz cursed inwardly.

    He then amended his disappointment. Having a monster fall asleep may have been too much to ask, but causing a beast to lower it''s guard was a precious Power indeed. Especially since the lizard didn''t even notice the curse being cast.

    So what if it lacked the capacity to completely contain a monster? There were always Evolutions or other ways to increase its effectiveness. And it wasn''t like making a beast sluggish and slow wasn''t useful in and of itself. He was also glad to find that Lethargy aligned with his Dusksong perfectly like Illusory Shadow, which was a great boon in his book.

    Having seen what he needed to and having plotted a way forward, Fritz returned to his team with a smirk on his face.

    They were sweating, as was he, and they startled when he shrugged off his Cloak of Dusk.

    "Gods. Do you have to do that?" Carter whispered.

    "Yes," Fritz said, not bothering to keep his voice quiet. "Don''t have to whisper, the lizards react to the trembling of the stone, not sounds on the wind."

    "Lizards?" Lauren asked pointedly.

    "Yes, there are lizards. Waist tall and about nine feet long, thick black scales and big blacker talons," Fritz explained. "Vicious. Though they seem content to sit in their craters and cracks, except when the stone quakes."

    "Oh, is that all?" Bert asked blandly.

    "Is that all?!" Carter hissed. "Just enormous lizards that could gut you with one swipe?"

    "No. That''s not all," Fritz announced as if presenting some grand prize, drawing the team''s attention back to him. "They also spit fire."

    "Wonderful!" Bert said as a grin stretched his face.

    "And why is that wonderful?" Rosie asked in full seriousness.

    "A new enemy to fight. A new threat to crush. A new meat to savour," Bert said, licking his lips at the last words.

    "More powerful foes means we''re more likely to get better Abilities," Fritz provided. "Isn''t that right Lauren?"

    "It is," She replied eagerly. "You can often be offered Abilities similar to the ones the monsters use. These lizards spit fire you say?"

    "I do say," Fritz said and Lauren beamed, eyes gleaming. "Speaking of Abilities I forgot to ask what you all ended up choosing."

    "Guess what I picked," Rosie said, pulling up her leather bracer and her shirt sleeve showing a long patch of scales running up and past her elbow.

    "Ah, I see you chose Wavestrider," Lauren said drily.

    "No. I took the scales," She said bluntly, waving a glimmering grey-green arm at Lauren''s smirking face. "See."

    Lauren''s smirk faltered and fell away, replaced with a slight frown.

    "Armour-clad Acclimation," George said.

    "Oh? What does that do?" "Fritz asked.

    "Makes my armour feel lighter, but don''t think its weight actually changed. And it feels more comfortable to wear. Works wonders with the cloak," George said with a smile.

    "Now that I know there''s truly a danger of fire here I''m going to pick Fire Resistance," Lauren stated as she sat.

    "Perhaps align some Attributes too. Endurance especially should help in this heat," Fritz suggested.

    She seemed to think for a moment and nodded once before falling into her Sanctum.

    "Anyone got any charcoal?" Bert asked.

    "Why?" Carter asked.

    "No reason," Bert said with a bland grin. One that made him look like a dullard.

    "My good friend here probably wants to apply some unflattering images to our esteemed appraiser''s face," Fritz explained. "I would be, of course, all for it if we weren''t in a Spire. Alas, to single the poor lass out would be in bad taste."

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    "Poor lass," Carter scoffed. "She''s far richer than us, might even be richer than you."

    "You''re likely right. Though her riches are family wealth, and untouchable for a runaway," Fritz reminded him.

    "Yeah, well she could always go running back," Carter said.

    "Too true," Fritz replied. "Though I don''t think she''d be as well received as you believe."

    Carter shrugged and glowered at the ground.

    "What did you pick, Carter?" Bert asked.

    He kept quiet, glaring at the ground and mumbling something about ''unfairness''.

    "Tell you what. How about an Ability for an Ability? Me and Bert reveal one of ours for yours in trade?" Fritz offered.

    "If it''s one for each of you then it''s a deal," Carter said.

    Fritz glanced to Bert who nodded.

    "I''ll go first. I have Concussive Blow," Bert said as his fist started to ripple and pulse with force. "It does this!" He added as he punched one of the black stones.

    There was a thud, then with a sound like snapping bones, cracks began to blossom from the fist-sized crater his strike had created.

    From the corner of his eye, Fritz noticed one of the lizards look over the lip of its crater, searching for the source of the disturbance. Seeing nothing close, it ducked back into the safety of its hole.

    The team had seen this Ability before but they all made token noises of appreciation and awe. Then they looked expectantly to Fritz.

    "Most of my Abilities are difficult to see or unnoticeable by purpose," Fritz explained. "I would display my Darkness Ability. But as we''re on a fairly dangerous Floor, and therefore require all my energy, let us save it for the Well room."

    There were some grumbles, but they didn''t argue.

    "I can tell you that it conjures a ball of darkness," Fritz explained, turning to Carter expectantly now that he had ''revealed'' one of his Abilities.

    "Fine," Carter said. "I got a Passive called Tireless. Increases my stamina recovery."

    "That''s great. An Ability like that would be useful for anyone," Fritz said, hoping his praise would pull Carter out of his steadily darkening moods.

    The man merely shrugged off his compliment.

    Fritz was spared having to continue the conversation when Lauren opened her eyes and stood, brushing some of the light ash off her robes as she did so. She stared around at the group for a moment.

    "What''s the plan now?" She asked.

    "A very good question. And one I only have a middling good answer to," Fritz said. "We go down that path, avoiding the lizards and craters until we find the way to the Stairway. Normally it might be best to let me scout and find the Door then come back to find you. In this heat though, the quicker we''re moving the better. I wouldn''t want to come back to find you all too tired to follow, or cooked in your armour."

    "Fair enough," George said. "Lead the way."

    "Very well. Follow and tread lightly, the lizards are sensitive to tremors," Fritz warned.

    The team gathered, hoisting their packs, sacks and weaponry, then forming a line with Bert at the back and Fritz at the front. They had settled on this formation so that Bert could protect the team from the rear and be called upon to run to the front if Fritz spotted anything. As he was the fastest member of the group.

    This hadn''t always been the case, Fritz being slightly swifter than his friend before they had climbed a Spire. Now though, Bert was able to outpace him even over uneven ground.

    It must be one of his Abilities or Attributes, Fritz supposed. Actually, I didn''t get to ask him what Ability he took, if any. Maybe he''s still holding onto the Power and waiting on his Golden Seed?

    Focus on scouting, Fritz told himself, snapping out of his wandering thoughts and back to the dangerous surroundings.

    Leading his team, he guided them past the craters and cracks that served as the lairs of lurking lizards.

    Bert groused about not getting to see any of the monsters but was sushed by Lauren. Surprisingly, Rosie joined in on the rebuke, hissing that she''d had enough of scaly things swarming her.

    As Fritz led them ever further up the mountain the overbearing heat took its toll, he was sweating and panting after only twenty minutes. His team were doing worse, save Bert whose boundless Stamina inured him to the fatigue, but not the discomfort and perpetual perspiration.

    After another ten minutes, Fritz called a break. They sat quickly and drank from or splashed themselves with their water skins. Moaning and groaning from the refreshing relief of the still-cool water soaking their robes, armour and clothes.

    Fritz had expected George to be the most wearied of the team, what with all the heavy armour, but he seemed to be doing better than most.

    "How are you barely sweating?" Rosie asked as she puffed.

    "I would wager it''s the cloak," Lauren observed enviously. "I''ll buy it off you, name your price."

    "With what gold?" Rosie interjected. "Never mind Miss Pretty, I''ll trade you my eel-friend ring for the cloak," she offered.

    George laughed.

    "I''d hardly be a good blacksmith if I couldn''t take the heat. I stand in front of a hot forge every day, pumping bellows and helping master with the simple work he trusts me with. This place is a mild summer''s day compared to the oven of the smithy," He espoused.

    "Is that a no to trading the cloak?" Rosie asked undeterred.

    "Sorry. I''ll still need the cloak, especially if it keeps getting hotter," George said.

    "Drat," Rosie exhaled, extracting a small smile from the armoured man.

    "Enough boasting and bartering. Up on your feet," Fritz said, calling and end to their quick break.

    He expected grumbles, but barely got any, and the groans he did get were those of fatigue, not complaint. It looked like their discipline was improving, which was a good sign. He led them up the path until it abruptly ended in a steep slope. It could be climbed but it would be exhausting and in this steadily intensifying heat that could take a turn for the worse.

    Fritz let them rest again while he scouted for an alternate route, one that hopefully avoided as many lizards as possible. While searching he came upon a gulch with a river of liquid fire at its bottom. Over on the other side there looked to be a deep cave. Fortunately, there was a bridge, of sorts, a fallen stone that lay across the small chasm and the certain death below.

    While his Door Sense wasn''t of much use in picking the best path, only the right direction, Fritz''s gut told him the cave was his best bet. He wavered for a moment on whether to keep exploring or to go fetch his team and cross together. He remembered his near-fatal encounters whenever he decided not to return to his team, like the goblin hole. This time he resolved he would heed those painful lessons and listen to caution''s dull call.

    His team were waiting and making a small amount of small talk when he found them.

    "I''ve discovered a path forward," Fritz stated over the chattering. "Follow."

    They did, clattering to their feet and hauling their packs.

    The team didn''t speak until they had reached the chasm and seen the ''bridge'' and the river of fire beneath.

    "Dangerous," George said, his face paling.

    "The blacksmith is afraid of a little fire?" Lauren scoffed.

    "It''s not the fire, it''s the height," George admitted abashedly.

    "Oh," She murmured.

    "We''ll cross one at a time, Bert first," Fritz explained. "He''s going to tie off this rope to one of the tall stones and then we can use that as a fail-safe. In case someone falls. Which they won''t," he added as George paled further.

    It went, mostly, according to plan, traversing the bridge was not nearly the harrowing affair Fritz was afraid it would be. Bert''s feet were sure and he strode across the black stone confidently.

    Lauren was next and crossed surprisingly easily as did Carter after her.

    Rosie was another story. Fritz was starting to realise the woman was rather stiff and ungainly. She would have made a terrible thief. He chalked up her uncoordinated movements to fear. She kept peering down into the fiery depths instead of keeping her eyes ahead like he''d advised her to do before she crossed. Eventually, she made it over and let out a long sigh. Bert clapped her on the back and she smiled up at him proudly.

    George had the terrible luck of a large tremor hitting just as he was halfway across, causing him to wobble dangerously as he tried to keep his feet planted. He took some cajoling to get him moving again after the floorquake had stopped, and Fritz found himself almost wishing he had taken the Word of Courage Ability just for this sort of problem.

    When it was finally Fritz''s turn, he took the crossing at a slow run and was over it in moments, showing off his superior Agility and Grace.

    There was no applause or compliments waiting for him on the other side though, the team seemed to have been staring at the cave rather than him.

    "What no one was watching me cross? None of you were worried that I''d fall?" Fritz asked in a hurt tone.

    "We have full faith in you, Fritz," Bert said. "But are you sure the cave is the best way forward?"

    "It''s the only way forward," Fritz corrected offhandedly.

    "I was dreading you''d say that," Bert said.

    "What, Why?"

    "Watch," George said.

    Fritz did, keeping his eyes on the dark entrance as he paced closer to it. There was a rumble then silence for a second. A flash of orange lit up the tunnel. A groaning gust of forge-hot air followed in its wake, causing loose garments such as Lauren''s robe to flap as it blew out the cave and over them.

    "I see," Fritz said, his shoulders sagging.

    Though when his team turned to look at him he straightened his back and smiled confidently. He just couldn''t let them see him falter.

    "I''m sure it won''t be too much trouble," He reassured them. "I''ll scout a way through, don''t you worry."

    Again they didn''t look entirely convinced. How many Floors would he need to guide them safely for them to trust his every word? Why couldn''t they just believe his reassuring lies? Was it really so much of an ask? Dusksong didn''t seem to think so as it chimed along resentfully with his musings.

    Putting aside his minor griping Fritz cloaked himself in darkness and slinked into the open mouth of the cave. There was a gasp and a shout. While they had seen him appear suddenly before, it seemed like him disappearing right in front of their watching eyes was another thing entirely.

    "Where''d he go?" George examined.

    "He just disappeared," Lauren said in wonder. "Can he go invisible?"

    "Yes," Carter and Rosie said together.

    "No," Bert corrected.

    They turned to stare at him.

    "Fine, he''s sort of invisible," Bert amended. "Only in shadows."

    "What if he watches me bathe?" Rosie blurted out.

    "He wouldn''t," Carter objected."No one would."

    "Fritz wouldn''t spy on anyone like that. That''s not what he''s about," Bert said with unusual seriousness.

    On hearing the wild accusations slung at him from behind Fritz nearly turned but when he heard his friend''s remark he decided to let him handle it.

    "Besides you can just bathe somewhere bright if you''re worried," Bert suggested. "Or out in the open with me. The more the merrier."

    Fritz tuned out the rest of the conversation as he crept ever deeper. For minutes he stalked forward in the dark that was as clear as a cloudy day to his powerful eyes. He focused on the tunnel ahead, listening for the rumble that preceded the burning bursts. It was good that he did, because at that second there was that low, telltale sound, like a gurgle in a dragon''s throat. One that he was inside. His Trap Sense trilled, confirming his suspicion that the blast was coming,

    The flare of light and the flame that made it blossomed from the very back of the cave, easily hundreds of feet deep inside. His front and face lit up with false heat, and Fritz looked for an escape. The entrance was too far and he couldn''t outrun the air. In desperation, he ducked into one of the of crevices and cracks that lined the tunnel''s interior.

    Fritz also Activated his barrier ring, hoping it''d be enough to save him some scalding. Much of danger sense''s warning dissipated as he squeezed deeper into the crevice. The roaring gale of searing heat rushed past. It splashed over his exposed right side, causing his swamp-buck leather to shrink and crack. The clear bubble of the barrier did nothing to insulate him from the burning wind, but luckily his armour took the brunt of the punishment.

    As soon as it started it was over, leaving him alive, uncomfortably hot, and with his right side steaming slightly. With a grimace he pulled himself free of the crevice and kept running forward in short bursts, moving from one large crack to another. For a whole three minutes, he continued forward, until his luck ran out.

    He slipped into an alcove that was larger than usual, more the size of a sitting room than a broom closet, and found he was no longer alone. There was a huff of hot breath. Fritz spun, staring down at the chest-high snout and a jutting horn he almost impaled his throat upon in his haste to turn.

    The lizard squinted a glowing red glare right at where he stood.

    Fritz froze.

    Not again.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 22

    The lizard watched Fritz with glowing red eyes and he returned its slited glare. A burst of boiling air blistered through the tunnel behind, streaming past the alcove. Both monster and man ignored it, standing as still as stones and waiting for the other to strike.

    Fritz applied all his focus to predicting the monster''s attack, hoping to somehow dodge it with his Danger Sense''s warning. Even if its claws seemed impossible to avoid in these tight quarters. Yet the attack never came.

    Frowning, Fritz reassessed his current situation and came to the quick realisation that the beast hadn''t noticed he was there. The half-lidded gaze he had mistaken for a glare was merely the dull expression of a half-asleep lazy lizard. Obviously, those red-hot coals they had for eyes had startled him into not thinking clearly. That and his previous experiences had always ended up with him fighting some life-or-death battle while scouting.

    He wondered how he had snuck up on the monster without meaning to. The answer was soon apparent, it was dark, pitch black save the flashes of flame from the very end of the cave. That light didn''t do enough to banish the black that Fritz could hide within. There was more to it than that though, his magic boots and Grace had rendered his footfalls as light as a cat''s, and these creatures were alerted by tremors and touch.

    Fritz let out a slow and steady breath, the one he had been inadvertently holding, and contemplated his next steps.

    Could he slay the monster outright and without help or should he return?

    Fritz grasped the hilt of Quicksilver, knowing that in these small confines more people would just get in the way. As he began to gently draw his blade he could hear the slight ring of metal sliding against metal. He stopped suddenly, but found the beast didn''t react to him, their hearing must''ve been worse than he thought.

    I''m going about this the wrong way, he chided himself.

    Dusksong shifted in his grasp as he spun it into the form of Lethargy. The intangible touch of the curse alighted on the creature''s scaly hide and mind. Its eyelids drooped further, then further still until they were nought but slight lines of red. The lizard swayed on its stubby legs then lowered itself so its belly rested on the ground. After another minute it began to snore, the sound like crunching gravel.

    He could safely leave now, but if he brought his team up through the tunnel they would still likely wake the lizard with their too heavy treads. He decided to defeat the beast now, while it was blissfully unaware of its danger.

    Fritz drew the rest of his blade fully and searched the scaly hide for a weak spot. There, behind one of its front legs was a patch of scarred, dull-orange flesh instead of black scale. He softly stabbed the stone beside himself, sounding a light clink. It continued to sleep, its snores stopping for only a moment. If the creature was still awake he wouldn''t have dared test its senses in such a manner, however, Lethargy had at least another three minutes of duration and the beast didn''t move further.

    He got into position, one that would give him the best angle to aim for the heart. His footsteps pattered as light as a calm drizzle and he readied his stance, gripping the elegant hilt with both hands. He thrust forward with Quicksilver. Its razor tip met thick hide but with Fritz''s entire weight and new Strength behind it, it wasn''t denied long. The blade plunged deep, but it was like stabbing a sack of bones and gristle. He had to fight for every inch and Quicksilver was only halfway in when the beast bucked and spun, blindly sweeping an obsidian talon at Fritz''s leg.

    He winced at the phantom pain of having his flesh split and leapt over the scrabbling arc. Unwilling to lose his blade to the creature he used his leap to tear his sword free. Hot, sticking and steaming blood poured from the hole his attack left. The lizard stumbled, either from Lethargy taking its toll or the wound in its side. It turned its snout this way and that, licking the air with a tongue that dripped with acrid, yellowy spit.

    It seemed it could still not see him, but apparently, it didn''t need to. A to-be burning engulfed Fritz''s senses. There was no way to escape the oncoming breath of flame so he lunged forward stabbing Quicksilver between the fanged jaws. The blade scored a nasty gash in the roof of its mouth but couldn''t quite penetrate the thick skull. Deep in the lizard''s throat there was a click like two pieces of flint being struck together. A spark flashed, then the creature''s viscous spittle ignited.

    Knowing his ring was useless against fire, he gritted his teeth and bore the heat and searing pain covering his hand. The moment of agony was brief, the bright fire swirled and was pulled into Quicksilver before the blade bucked and shuddered, rejecting the flame and spitting it back down the lizard''s throat. The beast heaved itself backwards, tearing more of its maw apart on Quicksilver''s vicious edge.

    It bellowed, then choked as the lacerations in its throat and mouth ignited, spreading fire down its gullet. The hole behind the beast''s front leg smoked and the oozing stream of blood was set alight, burning slowly as if made of liquid coal. The beast shuddered and growled, one leg failed and the rest followed in moments. It struggled to stand and it fought to keep its eyes open. Eventually, it succumbed, its last breath a guttural whine. Smoke from burning blood began to fill the alcove.

    Fritz seized his water flask and poured its cool contents over the monster and the fire. Steam billowed, but the smoke ceased spewing. He switched to splashing his singed hand with the clean, clear water. He hissed even as it soothed his scorched skin. He didn''t want to look at it just yet, as it was all too reminiscent of his burns from eldritch flame.

    Instead, Fritz searched his things and found his tin of healing grease and some strips of linen that could serve as bandages. Unable to put off assessing the severity of his burn, he glared down at his hand. His heart lifted, the skin was nowhere near as red and raw as he had expected it to be. He''d be surprised if it even blistered. There was still no use in risking that, so he still applied a small smear of the minty-bitter salve over the back of his hand.

    Deciding he didn''t need to wrap his injury, he used one of the strips of linen to clean Quicksilver of all the ashy remains of boiled-away blood. It was while he was getting the worst of the sticky gunk off that he eyed the still pristine hilt. Realising that its moonsilver guard must have protected him from the worst of the flames, Fritz said a silent thank you to the smith that had forged it and his wondrous work.

    When he had done what he could for his blade, he re-sheathed it, trusting the scabbard''s lining to take care of the rest.

    The grease had finally taken effect, his burn numbed and barely prickled. He squeezed his fist tightly. He was ready to keep moving forward. He briefly considered salvaging what he could from the monster''s corpse but felt that was better done once Lauren had scanned the creature for anything actually valuable.

    Fritz resumed his rushing pace forward and thankfully encountered no other lizards waiting in ambush. At the end of the tunnel, he finally discovered the vent from which the fire originated.

    It was a crevice or merely a small crack, barely half as tall as Fritz, that glowed from within with an orange-red light. It was set into the wall between two passages that led left and right.

    The rumble came again and he had to duck behind another wall. The stone was scalding hot to the touch, and his armour shrieked when he put his back to it. He quickly stepped forward to save his swamp-buck leather. The glowing crack lit up like a lamp and a wave of intense, boiling wind blasted past him. Fritz''s head spun and his vision wobbled. Falling to a knee, sweat poured off him as he struggled with the overwhelming heat.

    The blaring light receded and a warm breeze blew through the tunnel. It was comparatively cool compared to the blaze that was cooking him mere moments before and followed in the gust''s wake, letting Fritz breathe again without the risk of searing his lungs.

    He got to his feet and quickly ran to the left where the, relatively, cooler air was wafting from. He took a minute to rest and think, drinking a mouthful from his re-filling flask. When he had time to gather his thoughts he pulsed his Awareness, being mindful not to push it too far in this draining heat. He was rewarded with a direction, although not the one he hoped. His Sense told him that he''d have to take the right-hand side passage rather than the cooler one he still stood in.

    Cursing his luck and the Spires, Fritz began to observe and plan. As any good Scout should.

    Though luck was not on his side it seemed that all was not lost. While he stood where he did, out of the vent''s path, he was not affected by the waves of scalding wind. He watched and timed the intermittent rumbling and light and while he did he wondered if he could somehow subvert the vent''s direction.

    Fritz had the tools to do so, or rather the Ability to do so, but was worried about how it would affect the whole tunnel system if he did. The crack seemed to release its terrible blasts around every three minutes and he estimated that it would take his team at least nine to get to this same passage he now took refuge in. Many things could go wrong, not enough room to hide from the blasts, a missed timing or even just succumbing to the oppressive heat.

    Eventually, Fritz realised that the tunnel was too long and too risky to endure. The second plan would have to work then, somehow redirecting or blocking off the vent. He had no confidence in blocking it, any stone or other object, such as a lizard corpse, would simply become a projectile to be thrown down the tunnel at deadly speed. It would have to be redirection then.

    With a grim determination, he crossed to the right passage and envisioned the shape of the Stone Pit he would need to form. He was no engineer or scholar but he made his best guesses. He forced his vision of the Ability into the general shape of a tube and cast it at the black stone. It fought him hard, but still shifted instantly. His legs trembled from the sudden Stamina drain. He wasn''t done though, he cast another two times, downing one of the stamina potions between the Activations.

    He sat and waited for the next blast, admiring his handiwork as he did so. The vent now had two openings, its rough original one and the slightly-larger, smooth hole of Fritz''s creation.

    Who knew that this ability would continue to be so useful? He mused.

    The gust came and it worked even better than he expected, most of the vented air gusting down the left passage and a breeze started blowing from behind him. It might not have been quite as cool or fresh as the other passage, but it meant that there had to be other outlets for outside wind to get in and they wouldn''t be suffocated by bad air.

    Now with somewhere for the gusts to go, Fritz squeezed a few fist-sized stones into the crack and waited to see if they''d hold against the pressure. They did, and he wiped his brow of sweat and began his trek back to his team. When the rumbling gust came down it was like the breath of a hound, not terribly pleasant, but ultimately harmless.

    He staggered out into the light to find his team watching the cave entrance worriedly. Bert was pacing, and George was absent-mindedly running a whetstone across his blade. Lauren was fanning herself with a foldable fan depicting all kinds of flowers, with vibrant red roses most prevalent among them. The siblings were stewing, sweating and whispering blame to each other.

    Happy to break the good news Fritz uncloaked himself and stepped forward.

    "Fear not," he croaked.

    His team stopped and stared.

    "What?" Rosie asked turning her ear to him.

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    Fritz frowned and coughed, clearing his throat.

    "Fear not," he began again, this time far less roughly. "The tunnel is now safe."

    "How?" Lauren asked.

    "I am a man of many talents, what are waves of warm wind to my great gallantry," Fritz stated.

    "Really?" She replied with little faith.

    "Yes." Bert agreed. "He''s a true master of blowing hot air."

    Fritz frowned then painted his face with a smile and motioned to the cave''s mouth. "See for yourself. The path of the wind has been irrevocably altered by my mighty magics."

    To his chagrin, she did check. She stood before the opening and her hair whipped in the weakened, but still powerful breeze.

    "Let''s get moving then," Rosie declared. "I hate it here. Too hot."

    "How will we see?" Carter asked.

    "Bring out the lantern," Fritz said.

    Bert brought out the still-glowing lantern from his pack and held it forth.

    "Who wants to hold it? I''ll be in the back and it won''t be much use there."

    There were no takers so Fritz was about to assign it to Carter when Lauren sighed and said, "I''ll take it."

    Bert handed it off with a grin and once they had gotten back into formation Fritz led them forward.

    The tunnel echoed with the sounds of their passing, the scratching, thudding and slapping of boots and bare feet on stone. Bert hopped from one foot to the other when they reached the hottest part of the cave, right in front of the vent. He complained, but Fritz ignored him.

    "Why don''t you just wear boots then?" Carter said, replying to a comment about burnt soles.

    "The Arte requires it," Bert said.

    "Does it?" Rosie asked eagerly.

    "Does it?" Fritz asked sceptically. "I don''t remember reading that."

    "You have to read it more carefully," Bert said shaking his head as if Fritz was a lost cause. "Bare thy fists and fight. Endure! And great feets follow freely," He quoted.

    Fritz grimaced as his friend grinned at him.

    "Oh," Rosie said, she kneeled and began unlacing her boots.

    "No, Rosie," Lauren said exasperated. "He''s obviously misreading the Technique."

    "Oh," Rosie said. She retied her laces and stood, looking askance at Bert.

    "Am not," Bert protested as he swung his pack in front of him and started ruffling through it. "I''ll show you, it''s written right here in red ink."

    "Later, Bert," Fritz said as they reached the alcove with the dead lizard.

    "Fine," Bert agreed reluctantly.

    "Lauren, can you use your lens on the lizard?" Fritz asked.

    "What lizard?" She asked.

    Fritz pointed into the alcove and Lauren turned, the lantern light following until it illuminated the black-scaled corpse.

    The team flinched, but in a great show of courage they didn''t leap back as he might''ve suspected.

    "Fear not," Fritz said belatedly. "For I have already slain the beast. In single combat no less."

    "Slit its throat when it wasn''t looking," Bert stated.

    "It was a deadly duel," Fritz reiterated.

    Bert scoffed.

    "Looks like it was stabbed from behind and also in the mouth," George observed.

    "Appearances can be deceiving," Fritz proclaimed. "Lauren the lens, if you would."

    She scanned the beast as George looked it over and tapped on its scales with a small hammer, testing them for some quality that Fritz didn''t know to look for.

    "The horn has some mana in it," She provided. "The rest is mundane."

    "The scales are stone, not suitable to be made into armour. Too heavy and brittle. But the talons seem to be some sort of black iron and could be reforged," George said.

    "Good!" Fritz said. "Get to harvesting."

    It took them a few minutes to find the right method to remove the horns and talons. They ended up using George''s sturdy steel crowbar to pry them off. That and Bert''s incredible Strength.

    When the materials were secured in sacks and shouldered they turned to Fritz, who had been watching the scavenging without much interest.

    "How are we holding up in the heat?" Fritz asked. "George, can you endure?"

    George had taken off his helmet and had it under one arm. He was dripping as if he were caught in a sudden summer storm. He wheezed out a ''fine'' and gave the team a thumbs up as he put his crowbar away.

    Fritz threw him his magic flask and George gulped down the water gratefully then went to hand it back.

    "You hold onto it for now," Fritz ordered.

    The armoured man nodded his thanks and Fritz motioned his team and led them down the rest of the tunnel then down the right-hand passage. They trudged behind him for another nine minutes before he signalled a halt having seen a crevice from which two red eyes stared.

    "Lizard up ahead," Fritz whispered. "I''ll scout it out and see if I can deal with it myself. Like the last one."

    It only took him a minute to determine that the lizard was protected from an ambush by the walls of stone it had wedged itself within. It looked like they''d have to fight it the hard way.

    He returned to his team and began laying out a general strategy that relied on Bert distracting the creature while Fritz flanked and the rest of the team provided support with their spears and swords respectively. Though the tunnel had widened and they could easily stand four abreast the battlefield would still be cramped, especially due to the lizard''s long body and the fact there were five other people in his team.

    He missed Sid, and not in the usual way. In this moment he missed her skill and battle prowess. With her here this fight would have been won already with the lizard having its skull spiked or split by an arrow or stone.

    Fritz sighed and tried to ignore a subtle constricting ache in his chest.

    Must be the heat.

    "Carter, can we swap," Lauren asked. "You take the lantern and I take your spear."

    "Sure," Carter said with both relief and confusion. "But why?"

    "I need to slay some of these lizards myself, so I''m offered the Powers I desire," She explained as they traded what they were holding.

    "Is that how it works?'' Rosie asked.

    "Yes," Lauren said. "If you slay a monster you''re more likely to be offered one of the Abilities it possessed."

    "Huh, then why don''t I have claw strike?" Rosie asked. "I must''ve killed at least one of them lobsters."

    "You did, idiot," Carter said. "What do you think Puncture or Flurry are?"

    "Oh," Rosie intoned, thinking it over. "Thought it was just because of how I fought them."

    "It''s both," Lauren said quickly. "Though that doesn''t matter right now. Let''s slay this lizard."

    They nodded and Fritz slunk off into place past the crevice, ready to attack from behind.

    Carter shined the beam of lantern light on the lizard and it burst out from its crack at frightening speed. Its talons scratched and sparked off the stone as it rushed.

    Bert met its charge and the monster opened its jaws to spit its flame at him. He reacted instantly with a sudden sidestep and a bone-rattling punch that sent its snout sideways, spraying its fire at the cave wall harmlessly. Bert shook his hand out and the lizard snapped its head back with a brutal bite followed by a slashing claw. He was able to dodge the first of the attacks but not the second. The creature''s talon shrieked across his bracer and cut a terrible gash in his bicep.

    Bert stepped back and George stepped in. His sword''s edge gleamed with a white lustre and he swung it at the lizard''s extended neck. The blade cut deep into the black scales, causing shards of them to fall to the floor, clinking like coins. However, the strike left only a shallow furrow in the beast''s hide beneath.

    Seeing his moment Fritz acted, harrying the monster from the back while avoiding the swift sweeps of its tail. He stabbed Quicksilver into a bare spot on its flank, forcing it to spin and hiss in pain.

    Bert stepped forward again, kicking the lizard in one of its knee joints just as George leveraged his sword in another hewing slash. The leg bent, its bone broke and the sword split more scales from its side.

    Lauren who had been watching on in fear, finally forced herself to charge, plunging her borrowed spear into the rent George had made. The tip got stuck only two inches into the beast''s flesh and she cried out in frustration as she pushed with all her weight and strength, which amounted to little. Rosie joined her with her own spear emanating a dark red glow over its sharp steel head. Her strike landed true, piercing far deeper and just below Lauren''s spear.

    Sticky blood poured down Rosie''s spear shaft and she drove it deeper as it lit up with red light again. Though the wound looked bad, Fritz knew it to be merely superficial as the abundance of blood was likely the work of Rosie''s Puncture. Setting his feet and steadying his grip on Quicksilver, he slashed down. His blade whistled through the air and caught a spot he had already struck free of scales, hacking half the tail clean off. Much to Fritz''s surprise.

    He wondered if it was his new Strength or Quicksilver''s viciously sharp edge that had caused his strike to be so deadly. He supposed it was both, though now wasn''t the time to get caught up in speculation.

    The lizard hissed again and tried to turn on him, but Lauren, George, Rosie and Bert kept raining blows upon the beast. They whittled down its defences, spearing and cutting where they could chipping and scatting the stone scales. The lizard struggled and slashed, but Bert stopped its raking claws in their tracks with his own brutal strikes wreathed in waves of force.

    Eventually, the beast fell to George''s sword as it sliced cleanly through its unprotected neck. Blood sprayed out like water out of a blocked gutter, covering all those who stood too close.

    Luckily, Fritz and Cater were far enough away from the front to remain unsullied by the viscous foul substance, but Lauren, George and Rosie were not so lucky. Bert deftly dodged away, and grinned smugly as the rest were splattered.

    They spit and spluttered, groaned and grumbled, before wiping their faces with some wet rags Fritz handed them.

    "That was a true strike if ever I''ve seen one. Mighty blow George," Fritz said with a smile.

    "Thanks," he muttered, his face red from either the praise or the lingering embarrassment of being covered with blood.

    "Is this always going to happen?" Rosie whined as Carter took her rag from her and cleaned her face properly, getting all the smudges she had missed.

    "Of course not," Fritz proclaimed. "Look at Bert and I, barely a drop on us."

    "Is it an Ability?" Lauren asked, spitting in quite the undignified manner. Fritz decided to not point out the impropriety, glad as he was that she was starting to loosen up. Who knew that all he had to do was let her get drenched with lizard blood?

    "No, just experience," Bert explained. "We got covered in sooo much blood when we were just beginning. Remember the beetles? And the Goblins? Horrible."

    Fritz shuddered, vividly recollecting the terrible stench of the goblins.

    "Oh Gods! My hair is ruined," Lauren bemoaned.

    "Nothing a little soap won''t fix," Bert said reassuringly.

    Fritz doubted the statement, though now that he thought about it, the soap they had was likely magic, being entirely scentless and all. Even his keen nose still couldn''t pick up anything from those hollowed-out bars. Maybe it would work.

    Lauren seemed to be of the opinion that he was lying from the grimace she wore. Or maybe she was still tasting the blood, it was hard to say.

    "Well, it''s not like we can bathe right now, so we should keep going," Fritz said.

    The team stripped the lizard of its horn and talons as they did the last, then followed Fritz as he led them onwards.

    They came across two more solitary lizards and then a third, defeating each but struggling in the process, being worn down gradually. Using the same tactics they had employed against the first and refining them each fight made Fritz wish he had put forth the effort to teach them some of the very basics of ''The Observations''. It would have saved time to have them learn how to make the most out of the openings your allies provided instead of them having to muddy through like they were, with only the guidance Fritz could provide.

    He cursed his former self for not even explaining how the formations and flanking manoeuvres were meant to work. It seemed Fritz had taken that small journal for granted. He was now suspecting that a large amount of his previous Climb''s success was due to its deep insights crammed in the cramped lettering.

    After the fourth lizard fell they were all nearly dead on their feet, except Bert whose boundless vigour annoyed even Fritz. This last battle had really taken its toll. Those other than their defender had taken cuts and burns, and they all complained of aches, pains and dry throats. The worst affected was George, he was dragging his battered iron -clad feet like he was wading through a swamp.

    "We''re getting close," Fritz reminded the team. Though they had heard him say it twice already.

    He wasn''t lying, no, they were close, so close he could almost taste it. Just a few more minutes of walking and the Stairway appear before him.

    He wiped his brow with his sleeve and continued, the lantern''s beam wobbled in Carter''s hands and the sight almost made the already nauseated Fritz throw up on the spot. He didn''t, instead, he tried to spit but found his mouth too dry for such a task.

    Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel that wasn''t from the lantern. Fritz motioned a stop and a rest. The team didn''t speak or acknowledge him they just sat heavily and drank what was left of their water.

    Fritz crept up to the opening at the end of the passage and his heart leapt. The stairway was there, in a great crater below the dark grey sky. A tall, standing fang of glossy black with an archway of familiar scaled brick cut into it. The basin-like crater was strewn with scattered black stones both large and small, making it most resemble a bar after a brawl.

    To his dread and dismay, he saw one of the large stones move and realised it was no stone at all but a lizard. Then he spotted another and another all lying in wait, tasting the air and for some reason not fighting each other.

    He looked back to his exhausted team. And wondered what the best course of action was. Was it possible, in their condition, to sneak around these monsters or would they be more likely to survive if they made a mad dash?

    Bert and I could make it across with no problem, he observed with the overly pragmatic portion of his brain. There might not even be a great loss of the wealth we''ve gathered if we offer to carry the valuables. And we only need one of them to survive to ward off the Spire''s spite.

    Fritz felt a heavy weight on his body and it wasn''t just his bones. It was like his centre dimmed slightly and his vision went grey for a moment. He turned to see Bert was watching his back.

    His friend frowned, seemingly reading his plan from his expression. Bert glanced over the team then back to Fritz and shook his head, rejecting the scheme outright.

    He could see understanding but also recrimination in his blood brother''s glinting amber eyes.

    It would be far too callous and cruel, he conceded after meeting that gaze. He shook his head free of treacherous thoughts. I brought them here and I''ll do my best by them. Like I promised.

    The heaviness fell from his shoulders and the world came back into colour. With new determination, he nodded, then smiled at Bert who grinned back.

    One way or another, they were going across. Surviving, together.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 23

    Ignoring his burgeoning headache and the waves of heat washing over him, Fritz strode up to his resting team. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and looked over their tired, miserable faces as they sat in the dark of the tunnel. They also dripped with sweat, and their torn, battered clothes were drenched. Small smudges of ash and blood, both their own and from the lizards, were splotched on their skin and armour. No one was seriously injured, but it looked like they were on the last legs or nearing them.

    The stifling air still stunk of brimstone, a small mercy considering how filthy he felt and the others looked.

    Fritz set his features in a grim mask and gazed down on the group, waiting until he had their attention. It only took a minute before the team was staring up at him expectantly.

    "Last push," Fritz said scratchily. "A huge crater and lots of lizards. We will try stealth first and when that fails, we push through. It will be hard, a true test to see if you have the stubborn souls to survive as Climbers."

    "That''s it?" Carter groused. "No miracle plan like with the wind?"

    "This time the miracles will be up to you," Fritz said. "You can do it. Just keep your eyes on the Stairway and move forward. If a team member falls pick them up and carry them. We''re not leaving anyone behind."

    Rosie nodded vehemently while Carter stared at the ground. Lauren glanced at the heavier members of the group and straitened her back and shoulders. George nodded once, adding a low, short hum in agreement.

    "Worry not, I''m strong enough to carry two of you," Bert said, grinning and flexing a bulging bicep.

    "A generous offer, though if we do things right it won''t be needed," Fritz said. "Form up, we go now. Before we succumb to this terrible heat."

    They stood and shouldered their packs, readied their weapons and resolve.

    Fritz wondered if they should wrap the heavy boots George and Carter wore, but decided against it. While some padding would reduce the impact of their footfalls it would also ruin their balance, making a trip or slip far more likely. No, if they were to get across they would need to move forward fast, relying fully on stealth was a fool''s game.

    He turned and led the team to the entrance of the grand crater. Fritz could feel them behind him, waiting for the order to advance. When the ground rumbled he stepped forward onto the sloping stone. They followed as quiet as they could. Fritz winced at all the noise. To his powerful ears the thumps and squeaking of slipping soles sounded more like screams and thunder. There was nothing to be done about it, so he hoped it would be covered by the tremors below their feet.

    They moved from one standing stone to another while the rumbling continued, only stopping when the tremors stilled. The heat rose precipitously as they neared the halfway mark, even Fritz slipped and stumbled more than once. The scorching air was overwhelming, suffocating, his lungs and throat ached, but still he trudged forward.

    George fell to an armoured knee with a clang that echoed out like an anvil being struck, announcing their presence for all to hear. No matter how deaf the lizards were they weren''t so hard of hearing that they wouldn''t notice the unnatural sound of metal on stone.

    The Lizards turned their bright red eyes on the group, they hissed and growled as low and loud as the quaking ground, then charged.

    "Run!" Fritz yelled. His team stood staring stupidly at George for a moment before Fritz''s order registered in their minds and they rushed towards the stairway.

    George cursed and Bert was by his side in a moment, getting under his arm and lifting him back to his feet.

    A great lizard easily the same height as Fritz''s shoulder barrelled in from the front. It ploughed into the midst of the group and opened its jaws wide. There was a whine of the impending fire spit as its head oriented on Fritz. With Bert occupied with George and unable to thwart the hulking monster, Fritz leapt out of its path. Instantly the beast changed targets. It aimed its sparking maw towards Rosie who raised her shield to catch its burning spray. Flame leapt and the shield caught alight. She shrieked, dropped her spear and tore at the leather bands holding the burning shield to her arm.

    Seeing his sister in danger, Carter rushed to the lizard''s side, he left his blade in its sheath, and using his bare hands, Heaved. For a moment it looked as if the beast wouldn''t be moved and that it was far too heavy to be pushed back. Then with a guttural scream, his arms stretching and straining, Carter lifted it an inch. His veins bulged and with another push and yell he rolled the creature onto its back. Its legs flailed as it lost its feet while a stray sweep of talons sliced through Carter''s leather-clad vest and into his torso.

    Fritz took advantage of the monster''s downed state, drawing Quicksilver and thrusting forward. He skewered its eye, which came out with his blade with a foul pop. Withdrawing out of the lizard''s clawing reach, he pushed a shocked and bleeding Carter forward and around the screeching beast. Rosie came to her senses, drew her shortsword, and cut the flaming shield free from her arm.

    "Rosie! Carter''s hurt, help him," Fritz ordered.

    Rosie looked around frantically, her eyes drawn to the rapidly approaching monsters.

    "Ignore the lizards. I''ll stop them. Just move!" Fritz yelled.

    She turned to him, then to her brother, and rushed to Carter''s side as he stared down at his bloody hands and chest in bleary incomprehension. She got under his shoulder and dragged him away from the still-flailing lizard.

    Fritz darted forward again, cutting the beast''s other, still intact eye. The jagged blade tore through easily, leaving the fallen lizard blind. Another two beasts were almost upon them. Fritz called on the power of his Dusksong, weaving a Lethargy at each of them before they reached the struggling team. The hulking lizards slowed slightly in their pursuit, feeling the effects of the Stamina drain more keenly since they were charging.

    Fritz ran, joining his team, and one of the lizards broke off to attack the blinded beast which had accidentally struck it in its wild swiping. The other chased him and his team who used every stone, standing or otherwise to cover their retreat. While it seemed the lizards could move at great speed it taxed them heavily, and they couldn''t make sharp turns without a lot of effort. The remaining beast began to pant and stumble as it tried to keep up and scrabble around the interfering rocks. Then it stopped and watched them with dull, drooping eyes as they fled, too tired to follow any further.

    There was a scream from the front as George and Bert were bowled over by a lizard that had been hidden behind a tall, fallen stone. Bert''s fists pounded on the monster from below. Stone shards sprayed the two beneath the lizard''s enormous bulk, cutting skin and clattering off of armour. A gasping, dazed George angled his sword into a patch of shattered scales and pushed, plunging his blade within, right up to its cross guard. The lizard sagged and died, the sword having reached its heart or something else equally vital.

    Bert was able to extricate himself with a few squirming movements and a mighty push, then he stood and grabbed George by the shoulders, dragging him free from under the corpse. George still held his blade with a powerfully tight grip as it slid out from beneath the body with him.

    "Go on ahead. I''ll stall them," Fritz commanded the pair. Bert looked loath to leave him, but obeyed when he saw whatever grave expression he must''ve been wearing.

    Another lizard charged from behind and Fritz lay his curse on it, forcing it to slow even as he stepped forward and tempted it with the gift of his close flesh. A phantom cut opened up on his legs but he stepped out of the talon''s reach. He staggered and his vision blurred, he was panting like a hound and he felt like he was trapped in a boiling pot.

    Fritz looked around in the haze, seeing his team in the same exhausted state. He heard a voice urging him to move.

    "Just a few yards. Come on!" Lauren yelled. She had reached the Stairway and hadn''t moved through yet, and as she said it was only twenty or so yards away. Such a short distance.

    A false flame burnt him and Fritz staggered to the side and spun, giving the creature his back and plodding towards the stairway and the woman beside it. The edges were going dark, his ears rang, a sharp something was going to pass through the back of his neck. He ducked and the claw whistled overhead. He straightened, trudged, then forced himself into a loping run, passing by and avoiding more fire, bites and talons from the lizards that were pursuing him.

    He couldn''t escape. There were too many lizards. He was too tired. And it was too bloody hot.

    Fritz fell.

    Bert was there, free of his previous burden and hauling Fritz over his shoulder.

    "Almost there, hang on," He grinned.

    "Can''t, almost dead," Fritz groaned, trusting his friend and letting the dark take him.

    The world went black and quiet. No more rumbling or hissing. Just a soft cold song.

    ---

    Fritz awoke and was soaking wet, while it was a bad way to wake he had endured worse. He opened stinging eyes to see the Well room and the team around him. They were sitting in the cool water that crept up to their shoulders. He couldn''t have been unconscious for more than a few minutes if the heavy breathing of his companions was anything to go by.

    As they caught their breath, the accumulated ash and sweat washed away from their bodies in a thin, grimy film that floated on the water''s surface. Fritz''s vision returned quickly to its unnaturally sharp acuity and he stared up at the ceiling and the walls around him. The stone had that same scale-like carved look to them, but he thought they looked shinier, more lustrous than the rooms before.

    Scattered around the flooded room were pillars that resembled coiled snakes. They sat upon raised stone daises just above the water line. In the room''s centre was a radiant pearl as tall as Fritz that lay resplendent upon an alter of circular stone holding it away from the flooded floor. Light gleamed beneath the white surface of the pristine sphere and he could almost hear the thrum of the Power contained within.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    He tore his eyes away and looked to his team to make sure they had survived. Rosie was trying to drag a limp Carter to the Well and Bert waded to her and helped haul the extremely pale and bloody man. It seemed Carter was still conscious, if barely so, mumbling nonsense as he was moved. When they lay him on the pearl''s glowing surface his eyes cleared somewhat and his paleness receded. The thick red lines on his chest ceased pouring out blood and scabbed over before their very eyes.

    Rosie began to wail and weep, holding him close as he coughed and took in his surroundings.

    "I''m fine, Rosie," he rasped.

    "You nearly died!" she shrieked into his chest, causing him to wince.

    "Ouch, stop that. Your tears are stinging my cuts," Carter grumbled but made no effort to push the clinging, crying woman away.

    "You nearly died!" She repeated only slightly less shrilly.

    "And you saved me. I''ll be fine. Are you okay?" he asked.

    "Yes," she replied through sobs.

    Bert left the two siblings to their too-loud reassurances, grinning and shaking his head. The sight brought thoughts of his own siblings to Fritz and he wondered how he would react to such a close call. His vision blurred again and he quickly dunked his head under the water.

    When he came up, after about thirty seconds, he glanced to the others of the team. George was pulling off his armour, while Lauren was standing with her outstretched hand placed against the pearl and her eyes closed. A smile played across her face and she opened her eyes and broke into a shimmying little dance.

    Fritz smirked at the sight and she caught him staring. Lauren stilled immediately and she masked her obvious embarrassment with a blank face. She glanced around for a moment then stiffly, sloshingly strode behind a pillar, hiding her steadily reddening features.

    "Think she got what she wanted?" Bert chuckled from beside Fritz.

    "I wonder," he replied. "How are you holding up?''

    "I should be asking you that," Bert harrumphed. "I''m fine, barely got a scratch."

    "Good, good," Fritz said softly. "The rest seem fine, or they will be in time. I think I was clipped a couple of times so I should go get healed."

    Bert nodded and helped Fritz up, lending him a shoulder to lean on as he made his way to the Well and absorbed the burning cold Power within. Immediately the cool seeped into his cuts and aching muscles. His body relaxed and the small lines of pain on his back numbed pleasantly.

    Fritz stopped leaning on his friend and nodded to him gratefully. Bert sat with is back to the pearl and took his share of Power. Fritz decided to check on the condition of his armour, taking it off with a long-suffering sigh. The back of the leather vest wasn''t quite shredded but it was close to it. He might as well mend it now while the others looked over their Path offerings.

    There were multiple holes and one long horizontal tear in it, so he walked over to his pack and brought out the small repair kit he had haggled for when he had purchased the swamp buck leather. Some stitching, and a couple of patches of rough grey leather later, and the vest was mended, mostly. He didn''t have a tradesman''s expertise, but his Grace helped him with the precision of his stitches.

    He pulled the fixed armour over his head and took in his surroundings again. Rosie had stopped crying some time ago but she still sniffled as she stared at her hands, deep in thought. Carter''s face was bland and distant, a sure sign he was dwelling within his Sanctum.

    George had made his way to the pearl and had waded away briskly and was now seemingly in contemplation. He spoke to himself softly and paced slowly back and forth.

    "Path has to be Swordsman, but which Trait would go best with it?"

    There was an all too familiar roar and a flash of orange light as a cloud of steam boiled from behind one of the pillars. There was a coughing whoop then a high laugh that was almost a cackle.

    "Yes!" Lauren cried.

    Fritz, and the rest of the team, save Carter, turned to the sudden noise and the woman making it. Lauren''s smile was so wide it was almost manic. Not even their stares dampened her joy.

    "Get something good?" Fritz asked with a knowing smirk.

    "Fire," She replied licking her lips. "Fire!"

    His smirk faltered. Had he created a monster? Or perhaps encouraged a madwoman?

    "Magnificent," Bert stated.

    "Capital," George rejoined.

    "Fantastic," Fritz added.

    "Fire?" Rosie asked.

    "Yes, I was offered the Breath of Fire Trait and I chose the Fire Elementalist Path," Lauren said, eagerly rushing forward and standing before the team.

    "I put most of my held Attribute points into Essence of Fire. It''s like there''s a flame dancing in my heart. It''s so warm. So wonderful. It feels even better than I''d thought it would," she chattered, shuddering as she put a hand over her heart.

    Lauren stared into their faces and her eyes seemed to flicker and glow like green-yellow embers.

    "Thank you!" She said a little too loudly.

    "You''re welcome," Bert and Fritz said together.

    She beamed, moved close and made to pull them into her arms, but stopped herself suddenly, gripping her chest and pulling back. She shook her head as if shaking away a fly, then dropped, plunging under the water.

    A muffled yell bubbled to the surface. Black-grey ash and dried lizard blood formed a cloud of filth around her.

    Bert and Fritz looked at each other in confusion, George blinked and Rosie just stood there her mouth slightly agape.

    "Has she gone mad?" she asked.

    "Seems so," Fritz said.

    "Yes," Bert said with a grin. "Another for the crew."

    "Another for the crew," Fritz agreed, then sighed. "Hope she gets along with Sid." Though he doubted it.

    Bert''s grin strained somewhat at the edges. Obviously he was thinking the same thing.

    "Who''s Sid?" Rosie asked.

    "Never you mind," Fritz said.

    Rosie frowned, but before she was able to continue her questioning Lauren resurfaced with a loud gasp.

    Her robe clung to her skin and her stiff leather armour dripped.

    "Sorry," she said, once she had caught her breath. "Had to calm myself. I didn''t expect that Essence of Fire would be so... exhilarating."

    "What do you mean?" Fritz asked, feeling a frown crease his brow.

    Lauren looked at him quizzically, seemingly surprised he didn''t know what she was talking about.

    She shrugged and explained, "Advanced Attributes and Magic Attributes can have certain side effects on your emotions and desires."

    "Huh," Fritz said, thinking back on his own Advanced Attributes and wondering if he had been feeling any different. He quickly pushed away his suspicions and returned to what Lauren was saying.

    "Well, it depends on which and how much of the Attribute you have," She said. "I may have a little too many points aligned into Essence of Fire."

    "How many," Bert rudely asked.

    "I have fifteen," She admitted. "Which is the soft threshold, so I thought it wouldn''t be too bad. Perhaps I was wrong."

    "You seem to have it under control at the moment," Fritz observed.

    "I do. I have it all under control," Lauren stated with a wide smile and the light behind her eyes flickering like a candle in the wind.

    Fritz smiled, choosing to believe her.

    "Anyone need any advice?" Fritz called out.

    Rosie nodded.

    "I''ve got a good idea of what I''ll choose. But thank you for the offer," George said.

    "Okay then," Fritz said. "Rosie, what do you need help with?"

    "I have a choice of Paths. Guard, Skirmisher, Spearwoman. I''m leaning towards Guard but I don''t want to be part of the storm guard,"she said.

    "Then don''t. It''s just a Path name. Doesn''t mean you actually have to join the drizzlers," Fritz said.

    "Oh. Good. Hate them bastards," Rosie said nodding.

    "Why? They hold up law and order," Lauren said.

    "Nah. They don''t," Rosie said blandly.

    "What Advanced Attributes does the Guard Path Activate?" Fritz asked though he thought he knew from his clashes with them recently.

    "Durability and Awareness," Rosie provided.

    "Are they always the same for the same Path? The Activated Attributes that is?" Fritz asked Lauren.

    "Yes and No. For example, a Stone Elementalist will always get Essence of Stone, but the other Advanced attribute may be Control or Intensity. Or maybe even Durability or Momentum. It''s different for every Path and person," She said.

    Fritz looked the woman over and smirked, "You got Intensity didn''t you?"

    "How did you know?" Lauren asked, then mumbled under her breath. "No, it must be obvious from my... outburst."

    "What does Awareness do?" Rosie asked.

    "I get vague impressions and warnings, can see and hear things that others don''t," Fritz said, summarising his own experiences with the Attribute.

    "Oh," Rosie said. "Is it good?"

    "It''s...interesting. Can be a little distracting though," Fritz said.

    She stared at him, unblinking.

    "Yes, it''s good," Bert stated. "Saved our lives a hundred times."

    "I don''t know about a hundred," Fritz said with false modesty.

    Rosie nodded. "Okay, I''m going to be a Guard," she said resolutely. "Someone has to keep Callum, I mean Carter, safe."

    "Cute," Lauren said, smiling softly.

    "Huh?"

    "Nothing."

    Rosie shrugged and sat, falling into the water then her Sanctum. After a moment George joined her.

    Fritz, Bert and Lauren stood around awkwardly.

    "It is cute," Bert agreed belatedly. "Too bad Carter''s such a grouch."

    "I am not," Carter said grumpily as Bert pretended to be startled by his sloshing approach.

    "Carter! I didn''t hear you," Bert lied.

    "That''s enough," Carter said seriously. "My name is Callum and I want you to start using it or I''m out."

    "What''s wrong with Carter?" Bert protested.

    "It''s not my name," He replied through clenched jaws.

    They stared at the man''s grim expression and Fritz saw the dull pain and fear of ridicule in his eyes. He winced internally. He hadn''t realised just how much Callum had cared about his real name, thinking the Carter moniker a fun joke. That, however, seemed not to be the case and now he felt like a bastard.

    "Sorry," Fritz said. "I guess I pushed it too far." He added with a weak smile.

    "You did!" Bert said, swapping sides immediately. "But Callum''s too long. How about Cal?" He suggested.

    "That''s fine. Good even," Cal said, his stiff shoulders sagging.

    "What about Lauren?" Rosie asked as she popped up to her feet. "She should have a nickname too."

    "No," Lauren refused. "No, Law-law, Laurie, Bore-en or Lau-rat-face."

    There was some history to the names she listed, Fritz was sure of it, but he knew a sore subject when he saw one and left it well enough alone.

    "Oh. Okay," Rosie replied with a shrug, then she frowned, looking hard at Lauren.

    "Weird," She said. "I can feel things, all jumbled up."

    "Awareness," Fritz said.

    "Huh," Rosie said then looked away and at the room in dull open-mouthed wonder.

    While she was distracted Fritz endeavoured to inquire about Cal''s Path.

    "Hauler," He said simply.

    "Wow," Lauren said, actually impressed. Fritz himself was pretty surprised as well.

    "Huh?" Cal asked dumbly.

    "Haulers are a sort of Support Path. They don''t generally fight but they have extremely useful Abilities. Such as ways to reduce the weight or increase the size of their packs, bags and other burdens," Fritz espoused.

    "Increase the size of their packs? Why not just get a bigger one?" Cal said.

    "I mean the inside gets bigger while the outside stays the same. I''ve even heard that some have invisible bags that no one else can see or touch. Though that''s fairly rare and much sought after," Fritz said.

    Cal shuffled a little at the explanation.

    "You didn''t?" Fritz intoned.

    "I may have a Path Ability called Personal Pack," Cal said with a sheepish smile.

    Fritz didn''t even have to pretend to be shocked.

    "Wow," Lauren said, again.

    "Lucky bastard," Bert said grinning.

    "How does it work, can you put monsters in it?" Rosie asked.

    "Ah, I don''t think so," Cal said. "I should look at it again. To get all the details."

    "Before we do that. I need to get clean," Lauren said, her nose wrinkling as she looked down at the dark grime and grease seeping off the team and polluting the water around them. "And you all should too."

    Fritz looked around at the abashed agreement in their faces.

    "Great idea," Fritz said. "Ladies on one side gentlemen on the other!"

    "I don''t really care. I got nothing to hide," Rosie said, but Lauren rolled her eyes and dragged the woman away as she looked over her shoulder and stared at the men.

    "You''re sister is very..." Fritz began.

    "Dumb, ugly and weird. Yeah," Cal said in the way only a brother could, with both a deep annoyance and a deeper love.

    "I was going to say odd," Fritz finished.

    "She''s that too," Cal said with a sigh.

    "Right let''s clean up," Bert said. "Chuck us some soap, Fritz."

    "Right you are! We must get clean, then reconvene."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 24

    On their separate sides, with pillars and the Well blocking the view between them, the team proceeded to bathe. Fritz split his, now empty, hollowed-out soap with the men around him, wishing he kept some of its centre contents even if it would have been suspicious if he were searched. There were only scant slivers left of the wonderful, white soap, but they still made use of them. He kept Bert''s Seed stuffed bar out of sight for now until his friend specifically asked for it.

    The soap had no scent at all and lathered them up far better than the small amount had any right to. The tiny soft white bubbles ate away the filth and foulness of the past Floor and Fritz was left feeling cleaner than he could remember. Although the past couple of hours had been harrowing and exhausting it seemed to slough away with the dark grime. His mood soared as did the rest of the men while they came to realise that they were now Pathers and they considered the implications that had on their futures.

    They talked and laughed, steadily becoming ever more raucous as they recounted their heroic exploits to each other. A game Bert had started when he boasted that his fists had driven back a score of lizards and Fritz had espoused an embellished tale of tantamount skill and prowess when he defiantly dealt with the deadly beasts.

    "My Sharpened blade parted scales and flesh with ease," George proclaimed. "And the armour, I myself forged, held fast against their wicked claws!"

    "Indomitable!" Bert proclaimed.

    "Mighty!" Fritz agreed.

    They turned to Cal expectantly as he washed his wounded chest, wincing from the apparent stinging.

    When he noticed their awaiting stares he said, "With my Heave I... uh... Heaved it... uh...mightily."

    "You sure did! Saving your kin from the terrible lizard''s jaws," Bert boasted for the man.

    "Bravo!" Fritz said.

    "Bravo," George echoed.

    Cal smiled wide bowing to the praise and winced again when he pulled on his still-raw injury.

    "You should slather some healing grease on those injuries Cal. I know they''re mostly healed but it''ll numb the pain and keep it from going bad," Fritz suggested.

    Cal nodded and did as he said, taking his tin from the pocket of his pants that lay on one of the raised daises of the pillars and applying it liberally to his now clean cuts.

    They laughed and talked through the rest of the washing, slapping on their wet armour and clothes, then returning to the giant pearl once they were done. They were careful to wait for the ladies out of sight with none of them so much as trying to catch a glimpse of the women. George seemed to have no interest in the prospect, while Cal seemed nauseated at the thought of seeing his sister accidentally.

    Fritz merely proclaimed he was a gentleman and would never resort to such things while Bert said it wasn''t his way either.

    Another nine minutes passed as they sat on the pearl''s altar, dangling their feet in the water. The two women appeared looking much refreshed or at least far less bedraggled as they had been. Their hair had been brushed and wrung, and their skin had a glossy, clean sheen. The floral notes of Lauren''s scented soap clung to them sweetly as they strode to meet the gathered men.

    Bert looked like he was about to whistle so Fritz elbowed him.

    As the two approached, Fritz saw that Rosie was moping somewhat so he asked, "What''s wrong? You look like a kicked hound."

    "I have scales," Rosie said.

    "Yes, you do," Fritz replied. "What''s wrong with that?"

    "Patches of them. Everywhere," Rosie said.

    The men took her meaning.

    "Don''t worry you can always marry a fisherman," Cal said with a smirk. "I''m sure they wouldn''t mind. Might even like them."

    Rosie scowled.

    "And you can marry a fat noblewoman," she retorted. "Your Heave would come in handy."

    "Maybe I will," Cal said his smirk replaced with a frown. "I''ll be rich and won''t have to Climb anymore."

    Seeing an argument brewing Fritz cut them off with a pertinent question, "Speaking of Climbing, who''s going to Climb higher with Bert and I? The Stairway to leave is right behind you and the next escape is on the sixth floor. So think about your choice carefully."

    There was a small lull that Lauren quickly pounced on. "I want to go higher," She stated simply.

    Fritz nodded and she beamed.

    "I''m willing to go further," George said.

    Bert nodded to that.

    Rosie and Cal looked to each other.

    "Last floor was scary but I want to keep going," Rosie stated.

    "I threw a lizard," Cal said with a weak smile. "I can go higher."

    Rosie smiled wide and the two hugged.

    "Ouch, your scales are really hard," Cal groused.

    "Oh," Rosie said a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Must be because of Durability?"

    "Yes," Lauren said. "Certain Abilities and Attributes will have synergies and reinforce each other. Or do the opposite, though clashes like that tend to be rare. The Spires do want you to become powerful after all."

    "Do they?" Cal asked.

    "Well, it''s one of the theories. That Arravankis gave us the Spires so we could grow Powerful and join them in the higher realm. Like the Gods did," Lauren preached.

    "That''s what the church teaches, at least," She added.

    "No sermons, please," Fritz groaned.

    "Fine," Lauren huffed.

    "So Durability works well with Scaly Skin," Bert said thoughtfully. "You said earlier that Advanced Attributes can have side effects?"

    "Yes, depends on the Attribute though, some are more... noticeable than others. Especially Magical ones," she stated.

    "Like your Essence of Fire making you... overexcited?" Fritz asked.

    "Impulsive. Is the word the texts use," She corrected a small flush creeping onto her face.

    "Does it do anything else?" Bert asked.

    "Some small things. It raises my body heat and also makes fire a little less deadly to me. There are some mild physical benefits too, greater strength and agility," She said.

    "Does it add points to those Attributes?" Fritz asked, not having heard about this before.

    "No. It''s like a hidden bonus to your base because Advanced Attributes are almost like Abilities unto themselves," Lauren explained. Fritz noticed she didn''t seem as bored by the lecturing as she had been on previous floors but she fidgeted, shuffled and seemed like she wanted to be moving.

    "Interesting," Bert intoned, looking at his skin and the veins below. His hand tapped out the rhythm of his heart unconsciously as he thought.

    Fritz wondered what small bonuses Dusksong had and if he had been missing out on or just not noticing them.

    "Any idea what sort of side effects Grace has," Fritz asked.

    "Ah," Lauren said with a knowing smile. "I heard it can make you irritable when you make mistakes or make you feel clumsier than you actually are. Drives you towards perfecting your movements."

    "Huh," Fritz said. He had been feeling something of the sort especially when swinging Quicksilver but had thought it had been his own fussiness. Maybe it still was and his Grace was exacerbating the annoyance he felt when he failed to use the blade just right.

    "Don''t worry. Apparently, you get used to it. Or learn to manage it. Or embrace it. It doesn''t change who you are or anything, just prods you to do the things it is Aligned to," Lauren said upon seeing his obviously contemplative face.

    "Hmm," He agreed noncommittally.

    "So you want to burn stuff now?" Rosie asked.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    "No? Maybe," Lauren said with a quirk of her lips that turned into a dangerous, lopsided smile.

    "Okay," Rosie said, taking a step back from the woman.

    "So now that we''ve all agreed to Climb higher we should discuss our Roles and Abilities. Vagaries are fine. Though the more open we are about our Powers the better we''ll work together," Fritz announced.

    "Bert go first," he ordered when none spoke.

    "I have Vitality and Momentum and a bunch of Abilities that make me hard to kill, like Tough Skin and Imbued Bones," Bert said. "And Concussive blow."

    "As for me," Fritz interjected. "You''ve seen, or rather, not seen, many of my stealth and shadow Abilities. I also have Awareness, Grace and a Passive Ability named Danger Sense which helps me find traps and lurking threats."

    The team processed this information, they hadn''t told them the full extent of their Abilities and the others knew that but it was a glimpse into their ''kits'' and how they worked. A small show of trust.

    "You two have some rare Abilities and Attributes. For Rain City at least," Lauren observed awkwardly.

    "We do. That''s why we don''t go shouting about them. I hope you''ll be as discreet and circumspect as us," Fritz said smoothly. "As your Powers are rare in Rain City as well," He added with a bland smile.

    Lauren frowned at the observation and its veiled threat of mutual exposure.

    "Of course," She agreed.

    "I''m a Guard. Awareness and Durability and I got a Path Ability called Interpose that lets me rush to an ally''s side," Rosie said bluntly, completely missing the subtlety of the previously spoken words.

    "I was offered Swordsman and I chose it," George said proudly and with great pleasure. "I received Might and Speed and an Ability called Sever. I''ll let you guess what that does."

    He turned to Cal who stood next to him.

    "Hauler as you know, my Advanced Attributes are Speed and Momentum," Cal said. "And I have a Personal Pack. It can store non-living items but it feels like I''m still carrying about half the weight," He explained, reaching into thin air and pulling a hessian sack from nowhere. His shoulders sagged, likely from Stamina drain.

    "How much can you hold?" Fritz asked.

    "About as much as a backpack. I think it''s limited by space taken up, not weight," He hedged.

    "So we''ll give you all the small, heavy stuff. Got it," Bert said, clapping Cal on the shoulder.

    "Also the secret stuff. It''s a great Ability for a smuggler," Fritz said as he thought about all the uses he''d have for hidden stash on his very own person.

    "Or a merchant," Lauren corrected, looking askance at Fritz.

    "Or a merchant," He quickly agreed.

    "You think so?" Cal said with some interest.

    "Yes, of course. You could carry around your valuable inventory, or gold, without having to worry about theft," Lauren said.

    "I hadn''t thought about it like that," Cal said.

    "Me neither," Bert said. "But that''s a merchant''s daughter for you! Always finding ways to make gold."

    Fritz knew he didn''t mean the comment as an insult, in fact, it was some of the greedy idiot''s highest praise, but Lauren didn''t take it like that. She scowled and looked as if she wanted to set him ablaze.

    "And what did the great Fire Elementalist get? Did I guess right before?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes," She nodded, turning away from Bert. "Essence of Fire and Intensity. My trait is Fire Breath and my Path Ability is a Passive named Clinging Flame."

    "Isn''t it odd to not get Fire Bolt or something more basic?" Fritz asked.

    "It is. Though we went through a hidden Door. So our Powers are likely to be muddled. In a good way. And even though Fire Breath costs three, I have more than enough mana to cast it," She explained happily. "The higher cost is one of the reasons I aligned so many points into Essence of Fire. Probably should have assumed that Intensity would, well, intensify my emotions as well as my Abilities."

    "Are you still managing it well?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes. Before, it was all very new, but now I have a handle on it," Lauren said confidently, her eyes glowing for a flickering moment. "Though I''m likely to align more Focus at the next Well. To be safe."

    "What of your first Ability? Did you end up choosing it?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes, I chose Soothe Burn. It''s a healing Ability," She said. "Now that I have Fire Powers it will be more useful than before when I thought I didn''t need it."

    "Does it work on other injuries?" Cal asked.

    "It does, but it''s most effective on burns," She said.

    "Splendid," Bert said and Fritz agreed with a dignified nod.

    "So it looks like we have: a Scout, me. Two Defenders, Bert and Rosie. Two Strikers, George and Lauren and one Support, Cal," Fritz listed.

    "What''s a Support? They''re not on the Role list," Cal asked.

    "They''re like Sages, Tradesmen and Harvesters, who have Abilities and Techniques that are more useful outside of combat. Not to say they can''t pull some of the weight when fighting, it''s just not meant to be their primary concern," Fritz explained.

    "Oh, makes sense," Cal said.

    "They''re more prevalent when climbing the larger Spires with larger Floors," Lauren added. "When Teams start to turn into Expeditions."

    "So nothing to worry about at the moment," Fritz said.

    "Well now that we''re all re-acquainted as Powerful Pathers and are determined to Climb. I better search these Doors," Fritz said, striding away to the three choices ahead.

    "Find one with lots of beasts to slay," Bert said. "I want to see what our new Pathers can do."

    Fritz expected the team to baulk at his mad suggestion but they instead perked up and chattered excitedly about testing out their new Powers. Especially Lauren and George whose more offensive Paths would shine against monsters.

    Smiling he found himself standing in front of the Doors and he withdrew the chapter from his pack, making sure no water splashed into its open top. He again marvelled at his Traveller''s pack and its dry interior. Sure all the packs and sacks they had were some measure of waterproof, as was needed in Rain City, but the pack he shouldered didn''t let in a drop. Even when fully submerged. Well, as long as he made sure to close it, which he did.

    He sat on a the dais of a pillar and surreptitiously fell into his Sanctum. It was raining, his willow waved lazily in the gentle breeze. The power from the Well streaked in the sky.

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    With some trepidation he considered the best use of his new Attributes, should he align more to his Focus and Memory so he could handle his excess of Awareness and Perception? Or perhaps he should increase his Dusksong? Every two points was another cast of his Gloom Strike or Lethargy, while every three was another Illusory Shadow. He knew it would also increase the recovery of his Dusksong''s mana reservoir, by how much he was unsure, but every bit counted.

    More Grace and Control could also prove a great boon, but he didn''t feel the need to increase them just yet. He was still getting used to the fluidity Grace brought and he didn''t exactly know what Control was good for except shaping his Abilities. With only Stone Pit and Illusory Shadow seeming to benefit from the Attribute.

    He could split up his alignments, and after some thought he decided to do so. Two to Dusksong, raising it to eight, for another cast of his curse. Then one into Focus putting it to ten so he could see how it affected him. It was the best plan he could conceive of in the moment and he didn''t want to hold onto the points as he did before. As he felt he''d caused himself a lot more aches than he had to necessarily endure by being indecisive and putting off his choices.

    The world around swirled with shadows and light his willow grew taller and more hazy yet somehow more present. The incessant humming in his ears dulled and his constantly racing, hazy thoughts cleared minutely. He left his Sanctum, hopefully before he had raised any suspicion.

    As he sat, back in the Well room, he concentrated on the feeling of clarity his point in Focus had brought him. The flood of sensations from his eyes, ears, skin and nose had become slightly less demanding. There was still noise however, it was like moving from a roaring crowd into a busy market. Loud, though a little less likely to sweep him away.

    Fritz sighed, he knew he''d have to invest far more into Focus to get the most out of his Awareness and Perception. He almost regretted putting two of his points into Dusksong instead of all three into Focus. Though he reminded himself another cast could never be a bad thing, that and there must be those other small bonuses Lauren had mentioned. He idly wondered what they were.

    He pulled his attention back to the Doors, searching them for the dangers and mysteries beyond. The first was strange, made of soft, squishy, grey and slimy material he had never seen. A distinct smell of rot and fish wafted warmly from the circular opening as it subtly throbbed.

    Fritz grimaced as he reached out with Door Sense, finding his misgivings to be wholly founded as the impression of some great sea-beast, perhaps even a leviathan, blanketed his mind.

    With a shudder, he turned to the next Door, a ramp of white sands flanked and framed with yellow-white stone. It was the dark of a starry night beyond the Door, the strong winds were cold, on the edge of frozen. He basked in the sensation for a moment, revelling in the change from the oppressive heat of the previous floor.

    He felt like he was standing in endless almost flat dunes of bleached sand. It wasn''t an empty expanse, there were small oases surrounded by tall grasses and trees. The verdant patches were dotted here and there amongst scattered stretches of large, smooth, black stones that protruded from the sands. There was a sense of hidden danger on the floor, but it was too vague to make head or tails of. Regretfully retreating from the peaceful quiet of the impression, Fritz turned his gaze to the very last door.

    It was a portal into watery depths, neither hot nor cold and blandly suffused with salt. Not able to glean much from the gently rippling disc of water, Fritz immediately applied his Door Sense. A calm sea bed, with bright corals, rough stones and a forest of seaweed. Yellow fish flitted and bright blue sharks glided ponderously. It was a sight straight from a portrait of the wondrous reefs of Portus Hai or other tropical demesnes.

    There was still, of course, danger on this floor but it was only the danger of drowning or of more natural beasts rather than the perils of monsters or strange, hostile locales.

    Fritz shook his head from the impression and returned to his team of eagerly awaiting Pathers. He briefly explained his deductions, hiding his Door Sense by describing the warnings as his Danger Sense.

    "So you can tell how dangerous a floor is just by looking?" Lauren asked. "Could you do this the entire time?"

    "My Danger Sense can''t tell me the nature of the danger just that there is some and how intense it is so isn''t exactly reliable. And yes I''ve been using it this entire time, which is why we haven''t run anything we couldn''t handle," Fritz assuaged. "My Awareness also gives me gut feelings here and there, which Rosie will soon be able to attest to."

    "Why all the lies?" Cal asked scowling.

    "I''d just met you all. I can''t go spilling all my secrets," Fritz said matter-of-factly

    "Fair," Rosie agreed.

    Lauren and Cal still stared at him suspiciously while George smirked as if he knew Fritz was lying the whole time, but didn''t mind the deception.

    That might be something to be wary of.

    "Now let''s decide which Door we want to go through," Fritz said before more questions could be thrown his way.

    They began to ponder and Rosie said, "I don''t want to go in the Slimy Door. It looks like the inside of a fish. And I don''t like fish. Hate them bastards."

    The team nodded at her declaration, and Fritz thoroughly agreed with the woman''s mislike of that particular floor, if it could be called one.

    "Then it''s between a cosy swim and the potentially perilous plains of sand," Fritz observed. "Are you still keen to try out your new powers or should we just take the easier floor and hope for monsters on the next set of Doors?"

    He reached into his pack and pulled free a strip of smoked shark. He chewed it thoughtfully as he waited for the rest to come to their conclusions. Upon seeing him eat it seemed that the team remembered their own hunger, forgotten in the excitement of receiving their Paths and began to snack upon their rations as well.

    "Sand Door. Don''t much like the wet," Cal said through a mouthful of shark.

    "Sand Door. Can''t use Fire underwater," Lauren agreed, patting the crumbs from her mouth with a pale handkerchief.

    "Sand Door. Sea water will make my armour rust," George said between swallowed mouthfuls.

    "Sand Door," Rosie stated and when the others turned to her for an explanation she just said,

    "I already told you. I don''t like fish."

    "Looks like it''s unanimous, as I also vote for the Sand Door," Fritz said.

    "Not so fast!" Bert said. "I want the Slimy Door! Maybe the great danger will lead to great Treasure!"

    The team broke out into noes and incredulity, lambasting Bert for the suggestion which he bore as easily as his grin.

    "No," Fritz said, grimacing at the thought of entering the huge fish-beast. The team quieted.

    "Fine," Bert said. "Sand Door it is. I can only hope that there are monsters. Tasty ones."

    "That would be good," Cal said, staring sourly at the last of his ration bar.

    "Get ready team. We leave in nine minutes."

    They took some time wringing their clothes of as much water as possible and preparing their minds for battle or bad weather.

    Fritz reassured them that he would notice any danger far before it presented itself but they still seemed jittery. It was similar to how they looked on the landing floor but he could tell that it was more excitement than fear this time around. Likely they wanted to let loose their new Powers.

    He led them up the sands, finding the grains fine and smooth. The cold air embraced him causing him to shiver as he breached the ramp and strode into the night. Up above he could see uncountable stars all of diamond white, gleaming down a light that was somehow as bright as the full moon''s yet far less intense.

    He felt like he glowed, that the soft radiance was coming off of his own skin rather than the glittering sky. Fritz''s team joined him, standing and staring around in wonder at the alien world and each other.

    "It''s gorgeous," Lauren whispered as if afraid to break the quiet.

    "Whoa," Bert said, unafraid and brutalising the calm. "You all look so odd."

    It was true, the light made them stand out, the usual shadows cast on their features dispelled and giving them a dim luminous aura just above their clothes and skin.

    "It is wonderful, isn''t it," Fritz said.

    "You look like a faerie," Lauren said, staring at him with wide eyes that reflected the stars.

    "Well, I''m not," Fritz said quickly. Too quickly. "Never even met one."

    She gave him a dubious look but soon smiled as if his defensiveness was a jest.

    "Look at me I''m like a gem!" Rose blurted.

    They turned and found what she said to also be true. Her scales gleamed like dull jewels, and she smiled wide as she waved her arms.

    Some distance away, maybe a hundred feet or so, one of the large, smooth stones shuddered and stood.

    On six short spindly legs, it rose from the sand and bared its two curved and powerful claws. What he had taken for a stone was instead a domed shell as black as midnight that repelled the radiance of the sky. The huge creature stood a foot taller than Fritz and most resembled some kind of crab. From under it nine smaller domed crabs unfurled, clacked their claws and started their skittering charge. They chirped as if eager to feast on him and his team while the greater of the beasts followed in their chittering wake.

    Fritz coughed once to clear his throat and to be heard over the talk of his, still awestruck, team.

    "The stones are crabs, hungry crabs. Prepare for battle," Fritz ordered in a relaxed tone.

    "I''m ready," Lauren said striding to Fritz''s side.

    "As am I," George said forming up with them.

    "My fists itch for some fighting," Bert said.

    "They don''t look that tough," Cal said shakily.

    "I don''t like crabs," Rosie said.

    "Hate them bastards."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 25

    The domed, black crabs skittered over the softly illuminated white sands, towards Fritz and his team as they set down their packs and readied their weapons.

    "Aim for the joints connecting their claws and legs to their main shell," Fritz said, swishing his blade through the air as its opaline core glowed in the strange light of the stars overhead.

    "Bert steps in to distract the big one, while we focus on fighting and finishing off the rest. Lauren, burn as many of the small ones as you can. Rosie keep an eye out for flankers and protect our backs," He ordered.

    Having abandoned her shield, Rosie borrowed Cal''s shortsword and paired it with her hatchet. He had offered her his own shield and spear but she had refused them, boasting of then showing off the hardness of her scales by sliding the edge of her axe head across them. She had held out her arm and displayed the dull, unmarred scales, prompting Cal to agree and keep his shield and spear for his own protection.

    George stretched and swung a few practice swings of his sword then readied the long blade in two hands. Lauren had stored away her Treasure rod and was wielding her shortsword and buckler. She looked apprehensively at the fast-approaching monsters and steadied her breathing. Though the excitement never left her face and her eyes glowed and small motes of orange danced within.

    Bert strode forward confidently to meet the crab''s charge. His bracers glittered like the stars in the sky and he assumed the compact stance of the Arte Pugilist. Fritz cloaked himself in dusk and could feel himself fade from his team''s attention.

    The nine smaller crabs attempted to overwhelm Bert, but he was able to dodge around their claws and rain concussive blows that cracked their shells and threw them back. Lauren ran to one side and let loose her newest Ability. She took a deep breath and then a torrent of fire sprayed from her open mouth, coating half the smooth-shelled beasts with flame that stuck like tar. It was almost as if she had used her Treasure, though the Ability still had someways to go if it was to be just as potent.

    Even if the heat was less intense and the sticky fire had less longevity, it was still enough, more than enough, to cook these beasts alive. The crabs burned, curling themselves up into balls as the flame stuck to their shells and they died.

    Seeing Lauren had everything on the right under control, Fritz decided to join the other side with George, covering his back as he swung his shining sword. The man was fast, or faster than he had been. But Fritz could see that the armoured man''s movements were not more precise. In fact, his strikes were more clumsy, inelegant, even though they were swifter than before. However, that didn''t matter much with his new Might. His blade struck hard, arcing overhead chops carving clean rents into the smooth shells. The crabs'' split domes spilt their thin blood in dribbling streams, staining the sands beneath bright blue.

    Bert slammed a rippling fist into the great crab''s close-together, pincered face. The thing staggered back and its legs shook for a second before it swung its claw like a hammer. He ducked, crouching low under the blow then sprung up in a devastating uppercut that threw the great beast a foot off the ground and sent it rolling away. Bert followed it, his attacks thudding off the hard shell leaving only tiny cracks in their wake.

    A crab, steaming on one side skittered towards Lauren'' shielded arm. In a blur, faster than Fritz could fully see, Rosie Interposed herself between the beast and the fire caster. She chopped wildly with her two red-wreathed weapons while the crab''s sharp claws scratched harmlessly over the scaled skin of her forearms and legs. With more luck than skill she managed to hack off her opponent''s spindly limbs and it fell, quickly bleeding out from its spurting wounds.

    Cal helped, or tried to. The spear turned out not to be the most effective weapon against the creatures'' hard shells. But he was able to throw the crabs back with his shield, shoving them away or into each other as they tried to surround the team.

    Not content to stand back simply watching his team''s new martial prowess, Fritz joined the fray. The monsters seemingly couldn''t see him while he was cloaked. So he made the most of his advantage, severing legs and claws with Quicksilver''s deadly edge and leaving the crippled crabs for Bert or George to finish off.

    Soon only the huge crab remained, its shell seemingly tough enough to withstand a full minute of Bert whaling on it. He was uninjured, but Fritz could see he was beginning to tire. Using Concussive Blow so many times, no matter how much the Arte Pugilist reduced the cost, would take its toll.

    "Clear the way! Lauren, cook the big one!" Fritz ordered.

    She ran forward took another huge breath and blew out. At the very last moment, Bert rolled to the side and out of the Fire Breath''s roaring stream. The fire clung to the crab''s shell and it flailed, charging forward to trample the woman with its terrible bulk.

    Bert kicked it, knocking it back a foot. His shin broke and bent at an unnatural angle. He fell with a yell even as the bone snapped back into place with a wet crack. The beast was still recoiling from the blow when George stepped up. His sword shimmered, coated in slippery, clear-white energies that rang with sharpness. He swung a horizontal slash that sliced clean through the creature''s smooth domed shell like a knife through a purse string.

    The strike didn''t kill the crab outright and it shied away from the gleaming sword even as the blade was covered again with that powerful sharp aura. This time the crab activated some Ability, its body pulsing as if it was pulling on the air around it. Then, as George got close, the pull reversed, blasting outward and throwing him off his feet. His armour rang like it had been struck by a mace and he crashed into the sand ten feet away.

    The rest of the team felt lesser effects from the blast, stumbling from the sudden shock wave or falling to their knees to brace themselves. Fritz however was able to keep his feet easily and rushed towards the long furrow cut into the shell, plunging Quicksilver within and adding an activation of Gloom Strike. The creature barely noticed as the shaded blade tore apart its vital organs. The monster tilted to one side as it stupidly searched for the hidden assailant responsible for the numbing shadow pouring into its soft innards.

    Too late its gaze alighted on Fritz, the crab was already staggering, then falling to the sand. The black orbs of its eyes drooped and its mandibles loosened, and it died. He ripped his blade free of the beast''s leaking cavity and glanced across the flat dunes for any more threats. Only a few crabs were left alive, dragging their round bodies and attempting to flee on their remaining limbs. Rosie and Cal''s side daggers quickly finished off the wounded monsters. Then they were staring around at the destruction they had wrought as a team.

    "Any injuries? George, are you well?" Fritz called, as the too-sweet smell rising from the crab''s blood suffused the area.

    "Fine!" George asserted as he stood gingerly, his armour clanking. "Merely pushed back a bit."

    "I have a cut," Rosie said, proudly presenting a long but shallow wound on her upper arm. "Missed my scales. Somehow."

    "I''m well," Lauren provided. "Though my lips sting a little."

    "You could try the grease," Fritz suggested.

    "I''m not putting that vile sludge anywhere near my mouth," She replied.

    "A too common refrain," Bert lamented.

    Lauren''s face scrunched in disgust as George chuckled and Cal choked out a laugh.

    "What''s so funny?" Rosie asked with a frown.

    "Nothing," Cal said quickly.

    "Oh. I get it, grease," Rosie lied, badly. "Ha ha," She added stiltedly.

    "Anyway, let''s crack these things open and strip them of their meat," Bert suggested.

    "Let''s hope they''re better tasting than the lobsters," Cal said, approaching the largest corpse and sniffing it warily.

    "It would be hard for them to be any worse," George observed.

    "I have a good feeling about these crabs," Bert said. "Can you smell the ones that were seared by Lauren''s flame? Mmm."

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    Fritz had to agree, the scent of the blood was sweet, and even if the flesh was more charred than cooked, the delectable fragrance made him salivate.

    "Should we cook some of the meat here," Cal asked. "Test it before we do all that work for nothing. Like last time?"

    "No need," Bert replied, biting into some of the scorched meat. Blue fluid dripped down his chin and he chewed vigorously. Once he had swallowed he rapidly took another bite and gave the others a thumbs up.

    "I ain''t falling for that again," Rosie declared.

    "I''ll try it then," Fritz offered. "Bert."

    Bert threw a hunk of crab and Fritz caught it without looking. A trick he thought made him look both dashing and mysterious, even if his armour was splattered a little with the flying fluids. With a shrug, he brought the meat to his mouth and bit into the crunchy, juicy crab. Its texture left something to be desired, the uncooked portion was gooey, and the burnt bit crunched like brittle bark. The flavour, however, was delicious. The juices were sweet and fruity, being almost berry-like while the meat itself tasted like a seabird or maybe slightly salty duck.

    If this crab was cooked properly he knew it might rival some of the fabulous feasts and elegant dishes he had eaten on occasion as a child.

    "Damn!" Fritz cried after swallowing. "Don''t miss a single bit! This has to be the best monster meat I''ve ever had."

    He looked over their fallen foes greedily, and after the team tried some for themselves they eagerly got to work, splitting shells and prying out the dark blue meat within. While they did so Fritz searched for somewhere to set up camp. He felt that this Floor with its clear views, obvious monsters and seemingly plentiful oases would be a safe enough place to rest. They needed it they were tired, only carried by the excitement of acquiring their Paths and Powers. That, and the restorative effect of the Well.

    He knew that the elation would wear off soon and they would be feeling a bone-deep fatigue in maybe an hour or less. The perils of the previous floor had truly tested them and pushed them to their limits, and only getting some sleep would help the heavy limbs and gritty eyes. When the first yawn came, it would be followed in an exhausted chorus.

    Hoping to head off the inevitable crash, Fritz turned to the closest oasis and looked for the smooth black stones he knew to be the domed crabs. He could pick out a couple of the larger monsters scattered around the gentle waters. Their shells poked over the tall green grass in a way that reminded him of the palace''s domed roofs that, when it was raised, loomed over the Upper Ring''s walls.

    He began to form a plan to clear the oasis, thinking back on their first fight against the beasts. The lesser crabs were easy to deal with, the real threat was their larger kin. Fritz looked over the fallen monster, marvelling, with some envy, at the clean cut George had sliced into its shell.

    "Was that Sever?" Fritz asked, pointing at the dead monster.

    George glanced up and smiled proudly. "Yes, in combination with my Sharpen Blade. There''s a real synergy there. Let me tell you," He boasted.

    "You don''t have to tell me. I can see it," Fritz said appreciably. "Truly devastating, must be draining though. Surprised you''re still standing."

    "It is draining and costs two mana, but I was able to choose a Trait with Essence of Metal. Sever isn''t consuming my metal mana efficiently, but Blade is closely enough aligned to it for it to be used. And that''s far better than using Stamina. I can attest to that," George said.

    Fritz nodded, knowing what he said to be true, then pondered on the plan for their next fight. He recollected the small mistakes they had made, like himself not immediately cursing the largest crab he could see or Lauren not lining up her Fire Breath effectively. There was also the problem of Cal being particularly weak against the hard-shelled foes. The same went for Fritz''s own strikes, powerful enough to disable the smaller beasts but likely ineffective against the largest.

    He eventually decided on a plan to have Bert and George form up in a pair to take down the big beasts while the rest took on the lesser crabs. With Rosie to distract and pull back with Interpose, they could set up Lauren''s Fire Breath to hit the majority of the swarming beasts without her having to constantly reposition to get the best angle. He relayed his adjustments to their strategy to the intently listening team.

    "A sound plan," Bert said.

    "I agree," Lauren said.

    "I''m bait?" Rosie asked without heat.

    "Yep, same as me," Bert said with a grin.

    "Alright," She replied with a satisfied nod.

    "Since you''re the bait. Maybe you should take my shield now," Cal suggested to Rosie.

    "Nah. I like having two weapons. I like being able to attack instead of just standing there and blocking. But I do wish this hatchet had a spike so it would work better with Puncture," Rosie said.

    "I wouldn''t mind a flail, or something heavy that I could use Heave to wield. That way I could help more in battle," Cal mused.

    "It''s just a bad match up, they happen. I myself probably couldn''t pierce the big one''s shells. Even with my ever-sharp and ever-trusty Quicksilver," Fritz assuaged. "I''m afraid we''ll just have to be on clean-up duty."

    "Fair," Cal sighed.

    With the slippery, gelatinous meat collected in a large sack and the team ready to be on their way, Fritz led them towards the closest oasis. He took a circuitous route, avoiding the groups of smooth stone between them and their destination. Around half an hour later they had reached the edges of the grass and greenery around the still waters of the pool without incident.

    "Bert lead the beasts onto the sands. We don''t want to be burning all the grass and trees away," Fritz ordered as they got close.

    Bert saluted in a mocking fashion, then proceeded to run into the grass and start harassing the beasts within. With chittering chitin, the crabs charged the invaders.

    The battle went according to plan. Mostly. Fritz was able to weave his curse on the two biggest creatures and Bert and George were able to deal with the first easily. Sever landed like a screaming comet, this time splitting the shell vertically, an arc of blood spraying into the air. The second crab was another story. Having seen one of its kin eviscerated it would pulse its Shockwave Ability, repelling George every time he tried to close the distance.

    Fritz wanted to help slay the difficult beast, but he was more focused on finishing off the few smaller crabs that had escaped the bonfire that had been suddenly breathed into reality. The bait-Interpose tactic had worked like a charm, gathering the crabs into a tight-knit, snapping clump that was easy prey for the wide effect of Lauren''s flames. Most of them died, charred within moments, but some had been out of range or had taken cover behind their kin.

    He watched Bert attempt to corral the great crab, yelling at it and slamming its hard shell with his fists to no avail. Finally, after a minute, the monster shuddered and with shaking legs it collapsed. It weakly swept its claws as it crawled, but no more directed pulses of force came forth from its body. Obviously, Lethargy had taken its toll and left it incapable of defending itself further. George, heaving like a bellows, trudged forward and swung down his sword with a screaming Sever. The blade and the clear white light bisected the domed shell with ease with another fountain of blue blood.

    The armoured man fell and Bert dragged his limp body away from the small crabs scuttling towards them. Rosie rushed to help, kicking, swinging and stabbing the swarm in a flurry of motion.

    "I Hate you I hate you I hate you!" She screamed. Her shrieking battle cry rather than her, mostly ineffective, strikes seemed to get their attention and they turned to surround her. Once they had gathered again she streaked to Cal''s side with blurring speed and Lauren spat forth another torrent of flame. She stepped back gradually as the beasts burned and looked around for any more threats, holding her sword and buckler steadily before her.

    The remaining foes were finished off quickly and simply, leaving them with a host of charred and cut crabs and an empty oasis. Well, empty save the trees and grass that swayed in the gentle almost nonexistent breeze.

    Fritz glanced over his team and asked, "How''s George?"

    "He''ll be fine. I think he just used up too much Stamina with that last strike," Bert said.

    "Good. Everyone else okay?" Fritz called out.

    "Not a scratch," Rosie said smiling smugly.

    "My mana is mostly out. Though I''m healthy in all other respects," Lauren said.

    "I''m good," Cal supplied.

    George groaned, coming too and staring around blearily.

    "Ouch," He grumbled.

    "We should rest here for tonight. I''m off to find a spot to camp," Fritz said.

    They nodded and Rosie yawned. One by one the yawn caught on, as he knew it would, and tiredness sunk its teeth into the team. They sat or started harvesting the plentiful monster meat as Fritz left them.

    He didn''t take long to find a small out-of-the-way patch of sand hidden among the grass and trees, somewhere where they could light a fire and remain mostly hidden. He returned with haste and led them back to the grounds he had found for them. Bert had to carry George over one shoulder, but he barely complained even when the armoured man apologised profusely for his weight.

    "Never mind all that. You have the heft and weight of a real man!" Bert proclaimed.

    "It''s the armour," George protested, his cheeks seeming to redden.

    "What even is a ''real man''?" Lauren asked rhetorically.

    "It''s uhh... about honour?" George said as he hung limply.

    "It''s about earning your way?" Cal hedged.

    "Wrong! It''s all about muscles," Bert corrected. "Big and bulging," He elaborated flexing his arm.

    Fritz rolled his eyes as did Lauren, they caught each other''s expressions and smiled conspiratorially as they continued through the grass.

    More yawns and a few stumbling steps reassured Fritz that he had been right about their limits. While they were far stronger, far more powerful than before, they still needed to sleep and recover from the tortuous day. Fritz himself succumbed to a yawn as they walked.

    They set up a basic camp with a small campfire and although they were tired, Cal got to cooking the crab flesh. As it boiled and the meat puffed up into thick, fluffy chunks of light blue. He decided to add a little water to the pot when the blood thickened too much. When the food was deemed firm and hot enough he ladled it out into the wooden bowls they had brought.

    They ate it like a stew, the meat was wonderfully light, slightly salty, yet hearty and the blood had reduced into a sort of sticky, sweet syrup. It was wonderful and Fritz declared it the best meal he''d had in years. And he wasn''t even lying.

    "This isn''t bad at all," Lauren allowed, some surprise lacing her tone. "It''s a bit like roast duck with blueberry sauce."

    "Best thing I''ve had," Bert said slurping down his meal.

    Rosie nodded along vigorously stuffing her face with as many chunks as she could fit.

    Cal ate slower than his sister, but just as gracelessly, preferring to eat rather than talk.

    Once their dinner was done and they were falling into post-feast drowsiness, Fritz purported his plan for the next day or two.

    "We''re going well, two floors in less than a day. Almost a third done with this Spire," he began. "I think we can take some time to refine our tactics and strategy on this floor. We''ll find the Stairway first, of course. Though I''d like to spend some time fighting the monsters for more practical experience. And while we do that, perhaps search for some Treasure."

    "Sounds good," Cal yawned as he unfurled his bedroll. The rest of the team copied him, setting down their own bedrolls in the small sand clearing and around the warmth of the campfire.

    Exhausted as she was, Lauren didn''t even bother to move away from the rest of the team, seeming content sleeping next to Rosie. Fritz realised he too was nearing on collapse, so he set up by George and Cal, not wanting to be anywhere near the storm that was Bert.

    Bert offered to take the first watch, his greater Stamina recovery easing some of his need to sleep. Fritz accepted gratefully, and as he lay his head down he wondered about that for a moment, surely Endurance should make it though they had to sleep less? It didn''t really matter right now. Though he knew that Climbers still had to sleep, he didn''t know why. Maybe he''d ask Lauren in the morning.

    If there is a morning in this place, he thought dazedly.

    He stared up at the glittering sky and drowsiness dragged him away.

    Asleep under the cold stars.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 26

    Fritz awoke with a shiver and the sounds of whispers. It was a worrying way to wake. The beginnings of frost were crystallising on his blanket and he could hear a low conversation drifting between Lauren, Rosie and Cal.

    "So you think he''s still hiding something?" Rosie asked.

    "I do," Lauren replied. "How quickly and safely we''ve been Climbing is abnormal."

    "Safely?" Cal said incredulously. "I almost died."

    "Yes, but you didn''t," she retorted. "All I''m saying is that it''s not just Danger Sense. He has a Magic Attribute as well. I think its likely Nightwell, due to those shadowy strikes and his stealth. That, and he never seems to slip up. Physically at least. Maybe it''s just his Grace and Awareness, though I suspect he has more Senses than he lets on. Do you see how he sometimes stands still and stares into nothingness? Has that been your experience with Awareness Rosie?"

    Rosie shuffled under her blanket, maybe a shiver but more likely discomfort.

    "I dunno. I just got it," She replied.

    "It wouldn''t surprise me if he was hiding more of his Powers," Cal said. "If you knew even half the rumours told about those two down in the districts you would have run screaming from this Climb."

    "I live in the districts and I have no idea what you''re talking about," George said, startling the others with his sudden speech. Obviously, they had thought him asleep. "He has a reputation?"

    "Fritz and Bert took dangerous jobs, mad risks for leveless thieves," Cal supplied reluctantly.

    "Thieves!?" Lauren hissed.

    "Shhh," Rosie said, poking her head over her blanket to stare at where Fritz lay pretending to sleep.

    Letting out a small, dignified snore, he decided to let them speak further and find out what they knew or what they thought they knew of him and his history.

    "Sorry," Lauren whispered. "He''s a thief? I thought he was nobility, he has that air and accent."

    "The story goes that his father was a Guide who went missing," Cal said. "I only half believed it before, but it might explain some of these Senses you''re talking about. His da may have taught him something," he added thoughtfully.

    "He''d be watched by the Guides Guild if that was the case," Lauren said.

    "Not killed?" Rosie said.

    "Killed?" Lauren said with some surprise. "No, nothing of the sort. He''d be put in the orphanage they run. And if he ''coincidentally'' manifested the Powers they covet he''d be made to join. He wouldn''t be the first Guide''s child to ''accidentally'' learn their closely guarded secrets."

    Is that true? Fritz asked himself.

    Then why had the Guide Enforcers ransacked his estate and killed his mother while scouring through his father''s belongings? Was there more to what happened that day than he had believed? Maybe, but Lauren was being naive in her claims, believing everything the Guides spewed about their lawful conduct and neutrality. What exactly happened if you had the Abilities they held secret and didn''t want to join up? Likely a visit from the enforcers, then a quick swim in one of the great gutters with some stone shoes.

    After losing himself in the thought, he brought attention back to the whispered talking.

    "I dunno why he''s been in the gutters all this time if he had someplace better to sleep. But he''s been with Bert and his crew for as long as I''ve heard stories about them," Cal said.

    "Thick as thieves," Lauren said, mostly to herself.

    "Why don''t we just ask him about it?" Rosie asked.

    "He said he didn''t want prying," George said. "I, for one, trust him."

    "That''s cause you''re keen on him," Rosie said.

    "Maybe. He is rather dashing. Don''t you agree?" George said.

    "I do," Rosie stated.

    Even if he felt nothing of the sort for those two, Fritz was flattered and his Dusksong chimed cheerfully.

    "I don''t. Though, I''ve never had much of an eye for men," Lauren admitted offhandedly.

    "Can we talk about something other than Fritz''s dashing looks?" Cal groused.

    "Right. Back on topic. What I meant to say was, even if he spins lies and hoards secrets it doesn''t hurt us. It may have even helped us, what with that Hidden Door," George continued.

    "That was too much of a coincidence," Lauren agreed. "Though I can trust him further, I suppose. Especially if you''re right about the Hidden Door. After all, I did benefit from it greatly," she sighed.

    "I don''t like that he lies. But I don''t think he wants to hurt us," Rosie said. "Just a hunch."

    "You have hunches as well as scales now do you?" Cal mocked quietly. "Your future husband will have to have strange tastes."

    Rosie hissed like an eel, and Fritz found that the best time to pretend to wake. He yawned and stretched. The others lay still, pretending to sleep in a humorous reversal of roles. He looked over them for a heartbeat, then with a smile, he strode to find Bert where he sat by the oasis''s waters.

    "Alright?" Fritz asked his friend.

    "Yep, the crabs move around sometimes but they''re happy to eat what''s left of their dead kin out there," Bert said.

    "Good to know," Fritz said, then lowered his voice to a whisper. "The team is suspicious about my history and my skills. They seem to believe that I may have some kind of Guide Ability, though they don''t seem to be too offended about all the secrecy."

    "Hmm," Bert hummed thoughtfully, watching the still waters reflecting the starry sky like a mirror.

    "What should we do?" Fritz asked.

    "Nothing," Bert said after a moment. "I think that in their shoes I''d be fairly suspicious of you too. You are mad after all."

    Fritz smiled and Bert responded in kind.

    "Bert... how would you know what its like to be in their shoes? You don''t wear any," Fritz said.

    His friend chuckled.

    "They''ll be fine. More than fine, I''m sure. Once they get used to their Abilities and remember they have us to thank for them," Bert said smugly.

    Internally Fritz agreed, but he still felt a bit of trepidation and a dollop of disappointment at their mistrust. Though it wasn''t like he could stop lying just yet, not until the house of cards he had built was well and truly about to fall. With a sigh, he motioned for Bert to go get some sleep while he took up the watch.

    Bert nodded gratefully and left him to his thoughts.

    Hours passed. Still and quiet, save for the scuttling of domed crabs in the distance and Bert''s tossing and turning. Thankfully, the team had, in their pretending, fallen asleep in truth. More hours passed. Fritz pulsed his Awareness as he waited for the sun or his team to rise, whichever came first. The cloud of his Awareness swept out, he was getting better at filtering the overwhelming noise as well as the speed he could project his Attribute. He hadn''t aligned more points to Awareness in some time so he suspected that wielding your Advanced Attributes must be something that you could get better at with practice.

    A fuzzy impression pointed him over the opposite side of the oasis, he could tell the Door was far away and wondered how other teams ever found Stairways without Door Sense.

    Likely those dowsing rods, he reminded himself.

    George stirred and sat up, staring around at the night and shivering. The movement woke both Cal and Rosie in moments and they joined in the shivering. The fire had died sometime during the night as it had run out of wood. Fritz had left it to burn out as he didn''t want to saw down a tree, disturbing what little peaceful sleep the team could grasp. Their breath misted before them and Rosie reached out, shaking Lauren awake.

    She stared around wildly, pulling her blanket to her breast. Seeing Rosie she sighed and frowned. "What? Why are you shaking me?"

    "It''s freezing, light the fire," Rosie demanded.

    "There''s nothing to light. Unless you want me to breathe on you," Lauren growled.

    "No thanks," Rosie said.

    Fritz stood and strode to the team. "Ah, you''re all finally awake. George could you cut down another tree so Cal can start on breakfast."

    "Sure," George said standing and stretching.

    Soon they were sitting around the re-lit campfire while Cal cooked more crab and Fritz took the time to explain his plan of training and fighting their way across the dunes.

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    "We know these foes well enough now that it shouldn''t be too dangerous to engage them when we come across them," Fritz explained.

    "What about this training? Is it a Technique?" Lauren asked, receiving a bowl of blueish stew.

    "It is. Though you shouldn''t worry about accidentally learning it. I''ll keep it to the very basics," Fritz reassured.

    "What if we do want to learn it?" Rosie asked.

    "It might be good for you and Cal, though I''m not sure it''s a good fit for George and Lauren. It''s more about skirmishing than stand-up fights," Fritz said. "Bleeding things out rather than using overwhelming force."

    "Bleeding. Lucky I have Puncture," Rosie declared. "I''ll learn this one too."

    Fritz nodded. "Has The Arte taken root yet?"

    "Not yet, but I''m close. I can feel it," Rosie replied.

    "She''s close," Bert reaffirmed. "I have felt it." He rubbed at the ghost of a bruise on his ribs.

    After the team had finished their delightful breakfast and had packed away their camp, they set off in the direction Fritz led them.

    "What makes you think the Stairway''s over that way?" Lauren asked, trying to be sly.

    "Just a feeling. That, and there''s more crabs that way," Fritz said.

    "Funny, I don''t feel anything like that," Rosie said.

    "I''m sure it''ll come in time or with more Awareness," Fritz lied.

    He knew that they didn''t quite believe him, but it was the best excuse he was going to give them. Seemingly sensing that, they questioned no more.

    They trekked across the white dunes, fighting the crabs when they lay in their path and sharpening their teamwork and tactics each time. Though it was tiring, Fritz found it was well worth the delays and small damages they took. More hours, and another fight or two.

    Periodically Fritz pulsed his Awareness, making sure they were still on track to find the Stairway. He gradually guided them to the left, to a veritable jungle surrounding the largest oasis he had noticed. They cut through the vegetation until they reached the quiet shore. Fritz could feel the Stairway close by. With another pulse, he determined the Door''s position.

    Within the small jungle, there was a large, rough sandstone wrapped in leaved vines, and on its surface the was a Door with scaled stone steps, leading up and away.

    "Behold the Stairway and our way out," Fritz said, motioning to the exit.

    They let out some sighs and small cheers, celebrating the rapid discovery of the next Well room.

    "Only half a day of wandering," Bert said. "What a find! I salute my Scout-Captain!" he added thudding a closed fist on his chest.

    Rosie belatedly saluted as well, but it was not joined by the rest as they began to look around for somewhere to camp.

    "How long did you want to stay and ''train''," Lauren asked.

    "Until we can fight a group of crabs without having to struggle or use as many Abilities as we do," Fritz said. "I want battling a band of beasts to become routine."

    "Fair," George said.

    "If you insist," Lauren reluctantly agreed.

    "I do. It''ll make the rest of the Climb even easier," Fritz said.

    "Not too easy," Bert said aghast "I want to fight an Aberrant beast!"

    "You''re unlikely to find one," Lauren said.

    "Oh, Why is that?" he asked.

    "This Spire is Climbed a lot, and they''re rare," Lauren said.

    "Would it be that different if it wasn''t climbed as much?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes, fewer Climbers means fewer chances someone finds an Aberrant before it eventually Spire Breaks," She said wearily. "It''s just common sense."

    "Where do they come from?" Rosie asked.

    "Who knows," Lauren sighed. "They just appear, seemingly at random. Though some say it''s the rare, unpredictable process of mana mutating a beast to have something like a false Sanctum or a real intelligence."

    "Enough Spire talk, let''s set up camp and get some rest. Tomorrow we train," Fritz said as he shuddered. A memory of the Hound''s insatiable, intelligent eyes pounding into his mind. He pushed it away and considered instead the exercises he would put the team through. That soon bored him and he stared at the Stairway with some small desire.

    Although he wanted to keep going up the Spire, he knew the team couldn''t keep up with him and Bert yet. Training them would get them closer to growing into a real Climber team so he resigned himself to taking some time to get them ready for the rest of the Spire.

    They had been making great time so far, what was the worst that could happen?

    ---

    Vaa''gur viciously paced before the three Doors in the temple. His heavy boots should have thudded on the wooden boards like he were pounding on a drum, but they made barely a sound as he strode. Even as he seethed he moved with loping lupine grace and stomped near silently.

    He grumbled to himself as his weak and lazy hired men sat by the eel statue. They whined ceaselessly about some local troubles. He hadn''t expected them to be of any real use, bringing them along as spite shields, but he had to admit they were even more useless than he could have believed. Even for the weak scumhole that was Rain City, so miserable and worthless it was barely worth being called a kingdom.

    "Still, I''m glad to be out of the gutters for a time," the clean-shaven of the pair repeated for what could''ve been the ninth time. "Nice to be dry once in a while, and we don''t have to worry bout the murderer. Ain''t that right Hob."

    "Aye, Russ," The balding and fat weakling named Hob replied. "Much safer in this Spire for now. Did you hear that Kev got done in?"

    "I did. Finally got what was comin'' to him," Russ replied.

    "That he did. Likely the work of the Scarlet Storm," Hob continued.

    "Scarlet Storm!? Haven''t heard that particular title before," Russ said.

    "It''s cause you ain''t got your ear to the waves like I do. Gangs is being hunted, ''specially those that like to take a little fun here and there," Hob explained in hushed tones as if speaking on it would call down this ''Scarlet Storm''s'' wrath.

    The thin one gulped. "Really?" He almost squeaked.

    "Aye. That''s why it be good for us to be lying low, or high, as it were," Hob said chuckling at his own joke.

    Vaa''gur glared at the pathetic men, somehow Pathers despite their obvious lack of skill or strength.

    On seeing his face they paled and went silent, then Vaa''gur resumed his pacing waiting for any sense of his Marks. They had disappeared. He''d been able to follow them and their scents into the first floor before it locked or changed. They didn''t even bother to hide their tracks or their kills. A surprising amount of kills for such weaklings, especially that Fritz. Everything about that smug parasite made Vaa''gur''s blood boil.

    He didn''t know if it was the way he latched on to Albert, a true fighter if he had ever seen one, or his ridiculous, slimy manner of speaking. Speaking to him, Vaa''gur! Who had recently ascended to the heights of the Journeyman rank; who would be praised when he returned to his island home, victorious in his Spire sojourn; who would be able to join the raiders in truth, enacting The Commands on the undeserving and reclaiming the wealth wasted on them. Their food, gold and fresh, fertile flesh to be used by the Krakosi Chosen and the Changed.

    He growled at the recollection of Fritz daring to speak to him out of turn. Vaa''gur''s Primal Instinct told him all he needed to know about the sluggish, simpering should-be slave. A worm, a maggot, gnawing and eating the power he stole and swindled from his companion. His gut boiled over again as he remembered Therima striking him to defend the snivelling coward who sweated just by meeting his gaze.

    His team had said they wanted no part of his hunt, calling it ''a waste of time'', deriding him and asking why he even cared to ''crush some bugs just to hear them squelch''. Sertine was a stranger, in the team out of convenience rather than conviction, so Vaa''gur knew why he didn''t understand. But Therima should know why, she should be upholding The Commands just as he sought to. It strung that she had told him, no ordered him, to be back in a week so they could ''Climb the Rain Spire and be out of this wretched city as soon as may be''.

    It was an insult, he wouldn''t need more than a couple of days to track and take his quarry. Or so he had thought before they disappeared.

    He bared his teeth as he stood, then he decided to check his Spire Sheet, just to make sure his Path Ability was still Active. Right now he couldn''t feel or scent anything from the Doors in front of him, just a dead end.

    In the burning city of his Sanctum, he read over the silvery glyphs, ignoring the screams from the smoking buildings around him. He wouldn''t let those sweet sounds distract him right now, he had real agony to enjoy once he found his prey.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Vaa''gur of Clan Wrestryke

    Level: 66

    Path: Venomous Stalker

    Strain: Human

    Sigil: Serpent Spire, Silver(10). Rat Spire, Gold(10). Mer Spire, Gold(10). Wounding, nil(24). Stalker, nil(12)

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 24

    Agility: 30

    Endurance: 36

    Perception: 39

    Focus: 39

    Memory: 24

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 33

    Grace: 18

    Reflex: 24

    Venomwell: 27

    ---------

    Activated 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Venomous Strike - Evolution 3/3

    Dripping deadly, a subtle threat, cuts induce, a deep regret.

    ---

    Skypierce Arrow - Ascended 1 - Evolution 1/3

    Loose the arrow, soaring high, deadly bolts, pierce the sky.

    ---

    Dash - Evolution 2/3

    Get to cover, join the fray, move between, speed away.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Primal Instinct - Ascended 1 - Evolution 1/3

    Beastly hunches, lead the way. Scents and sound, expose your prey.

    ---

    Vital Strikes - Evolution 1/3

    Hammers find joints, blades find veins, claws find flaws.

    ---

    Thickened Blood

    Thickly flowing, and slow to bleed. Stiffly scabbing in vital need.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stalker''s Stride - Evolution 2/3

    Treading quiet, no tracks behind, hushed and hidden, your prey is blind.

    ---

    Camouflage - Evolution 2/3

    Blending colour, shifting shade, standing still, ambushes laid.

    ---

    Inscribed Skin: Confusing Haze

    Written on skin, show the script! Their vision swirls and mind is ripped.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Boundless Mark - Ascended 1 - Evolution 1/3

    Mark them, track them, follow fast. Stalk them, hunt them, to the last.

    ---

    Insidious Venom - Evolution 1/3

    Venoms soaking, beneath the skin, flesh and bone, rot deep within.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Thron''gur''s Relentless Tracking (Apprentice)

    Plodding, trudging, don''t ever stop. Tracking, stalking, until they drop.

    ---

    Serpenal Brewing (Novice)

    Mixed malignly, cure or kill, potion or poison, drink your fill.

    ---

    The Commands (Novice)

    Pillage plunder, sail and seek. Exalt the strong, cull the weak.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Vaa''gur rankled, as he always did, when he read that stupid rhyme that tried to encompass and lessen the profound nature of The Commands laid down by Krakos. The Spire''s mocked, but the Krakosi would have the last laugh once one of the Chosen or Changed Climbed the Final Spire and ascended to godhood. Then a new age of blood would dawn, just as it had when Jorved had reached the Precipice. A new age where the weak would know their place and he and his folk could eat, take and do whatever they wanted. Just as he deserved.

    Vaa''gur licked his lips and could almost taste the blood, then he felt at his Boundless Mark Ability. It far easier to read in his Sanctum than out of it. Again, it told him what he already knew, that the Ability was active but somehow shrouded. It couldn''t be thwarted by great distances or Doors, its Ascension from Hunter''s Mark into Boundless Mark had seen to that. But somehow that feeble Fritz had eluded him, that slimy scent trail leading to a red, painted pillar and nothing more.

    Had they found a Hidden Door? Something he himself had never seen, but somehow these two Pathers and their handful of spite shields had stumbled across out of sheer luck. His fists clenched and the flames raged.

    Gritting his teeth and trying not to growl, he left his Sanctum. Needing to vent his fury, he pulled out his hunting bow and let loose a Skypierce Arrow. It pulled on his Stamina, but he had plenty of that. The arrow soared right through the eel statue''s head, drilling a hole the size of his fist and showering the two weakling Pathers below it with splinters.

    "Ow! Why''d you do that?" The thin one whined.

    "Shut up," the fat one hissed, his eyes filled with a good amount of terror.

    "You dare speak?!" Vaa''gur boomed, griping his dagger''s dark ivory hilt.

    When the man started spluttering an answer he drew his blade an inch out of its battered sheath.

    Silence fell and Vaa''gur saw the small glint of bittersteel reflected in their fearful eyes. If he didn''t need them to ward off the spite he would have skinned one of them right then and there. He continued to glare and they began to tremble, waves of horror roiled off them like silently shrieking steam. After a few heartbeats, he huffed and jammed the dagger back into place, then turned back to the Doors and paced.

    He could hear them flee, shuffling away and whispering their pointless argument about who had angered ''the foreigner''.

    He stroked his beard and set to making his gear ready, checking his bow, his quiver, his leather armour and making sure his badge was safe. Therima would tear him limb from limb if he lost the gaudy thing. It was all there and well cared for. Now if there wasn''t sign or scent of the two he had marked in the next day he would climb to the sixth floor and leave. But not before ''losing'' his two teammates. They would be a pitiable prize next to the other two. But the hungry must eat. And he was starving.

    Just as he resigned himself to hunting the lesser of the game, his Boundless Mark flared in his chest. His heartbeat raced from the hot spark as it pointed the way. Upwards. They were back. Both of them. And they were a floor or two overhead. So close. Any Door would do here, so he chose the one that had the weakest beasts within. The leftmost Door was his first choice as the middle had the look of some sort of ruin floor, littered with traps and ''puzzles'' and the rightmost had his Primal Instinct warn him of an apex predator, on the edge of becoming Exalted, in its watery lair.

    It wasn''t that he was scared of such a creature, no, he could easily have stalked then slaughtered it and he would have normally revelled in such a hunt. But Fritz and Bert were swiftly climbing and wily beyond what he would have normally thought of the dull natives of the miserable Rain City.

    He called out his orders and the two weaklings followed, gear in tow. He slapped some self-made gill-grease on his neck and felt the tingle and sharp pain as the rents in his flesh grew. He threw the rest of the box and its ointment at his ''team'' and strode into the Door that stank of lemons, plunging into the plane of water.

    His new gills flared and his lungs filled with the mild water, but it did nothing to cool his passions or dampen his heart.

    Vaa''gur grinned.

    The hunt was on.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 27

    Fritz woke from nightmares, a knot sitting heavy in his stomach and his muscles aching. A feeling of unease rippled down his back and he sat up quickly and searched the campsite for dangers. He saw nothing, yet his paranoia grew.

    "What''s wrong?" asked Rosie, who was still on watch.

    "I don''t know," Fritz replied, then remembering that she also had Awareness he asked, "Do you feel something, like a small dread? Like you''re a mouse scurrying around a kitchen, wary of the cat you know prowls there?"

    "What? No," Rosie said. "Nightmare?"

    "Maybe," Fritz admitted, as it wasn''t uncommon for him to wake with his heart pounding in terror, having just relived one terrible moment or another from his past.

    The unease faded as he gathered his wits and reasserted control on his emotions. Though the fear still sat there, prickling his back and neck. He shook off the phantom feelings and stood, he wouldn''t be getting any sleep in his agitated state.

    "Rosie, I''ll take over the watch. Get some rest, you worked hard today," he ordered gently.

    She smiled at him gratefully, and with drooping eyes made her way to her bedroll and lay down. Asleep within moments, and snoring within minutes. She must have been tired, as they all were from the gruelling pace he had set for the day''s training. Though he had called it a day it was hard to tell what with there never being a sunrise. Just the ever-present glow of starlight.

    Fritz was glad they''d taken some time to train here, this Floor was just what they needed to practise their Powers. The cold breeze would flow over them as they exerted themselves, letting them push harder than they could have on a hotter Floor. And while the cold would eventually seep into their muscles and cause them to shiver the oasis''s waters were surprisingly warm. Soaking in the gentle pool after a set of sprints or spars proved a fantastic relief.

    It was also safe, or as safe as a Spire gets, as the monstrous crabs were simple to spot and never moved in swarms too large for them to handle. They were easy to hunt and even easier to eat afterwards, a fine reward for their efforts. Fritz noticed the others in the crew bulking up and filling out, save Lauren as she ate well enough on the outside and seemingly hadn''t put many points into Strength.

    Though the conditions and food were good that didn''t stop the complaints. He didn''t enjoy the training any more than they did, but he thought it necessary for a smooth Climb and reiterated the fact as many times as he could get away with without being repetitive.

    The only two who seemed to enjoy the delay were Bert and Rosie. The student of the pair shrieked in happiness when she had eventually learned The Arte Pugilist after landing a particularly brutal uppercut. It had nearly knocked Bert off his feet but instead of falling he grinned, spat a mouthful of blood and brought her to the ground with a sweeping kick. She had screeched in glee the whole way down and barely took a scratch from her fall. Proud as any prince he had held out a hand and hefted her up as she took it. "Now onto the hard stuff," He had declared, his grin shattering hers.

    Rosie wasn''t the only one to make progress though. The rest of the group''s teamwork had grown substantially. They were far less likely to get in each other''s ways for one, and their shared pains had brought them together, closer than ever. Much of the suspicion and doubt being wrung out of them like slime out of a skulg. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

    After some hours of safety and silence, Fritz restlessly decided to walk to the other side of the oasis and practice his swordsmanship. He had felt it was lacking these past two days of fighting. Something was missing from his style and he thought about what was bothering him so much.

    Was it his free hand that he sometimes filled with his bone dagger or left empty when he wanted to push or pull on enemies to unbalance them? He knew not, though he did wish that he had a sword Technique, something George was also hoping to find, always moaning, as he was, about how lucky Bert was to find a style that suited him so well.

    Fritz had to agree there too. Lucky bastard. Though that wasn''t to say ''The Observations'' had been useless. In fact, he had looked at the Technique''s description again and had found it had been providing a minor increase to his Awareness''s ability to find weaknesses and discern secrets or ambushes. Something he hadn''t noticed this whole time, but had likely been benefiting from without conscious thought.

    As he practised with his sword the uneasiness grew again, but he waved it off as paranoia. Thinking about ''The Observations'' tended to do that, he missed the small book, or maybe he missed the woman who held it now. He wondered if she was alright.

    Quicksilver slashed and cut the air as Fritz fought an imaginary duellist. It took the form of his father, even if this fading facsimile was lacklustre, he still felt his Memory helped him glean a thing or two from his recollections of their ''sparring''. If it could be called that. He was still horribly outmatched even by the shadow of a recollection of the man.

    No steel could touch his father, he moved minutely yet perfectly, and his blade was always in the right place to riposte and score a deadly blow. It had always been strange, the way he''d find himself pushing forward only to run into the blunted tip of the man''s sword. It was as if there were no way to dodge or even divert the blade, it was unavoidable, an inevitability written in steel.

    Frustrated, Fritz stopped those imaginary bouts quickly, realising it wasn''t helping refine his swordsmanship or lifting his mood. Instead, he went through the forms and strikes. Over and over, trying to discover, to capture, a sliver of that deadly precision shown to him so long ago.

    Fritz thrust Quicksilver with intense focus, attempting, failing, to find the feeling he had when he had slain the Hound. There was a moment of truth there, when he had pierced its heart. A truth he carried with him in more ways than one. From the moonsilver of its bones that made his hilt to the Aberrant Seed that had held its Power still in the safe.

    He frowned. Didn''t he take it out of the safe? Did he ever put it back like he had meant to? He pushed the distracting thoughts away and focused on the point of his blade. There was something there that danced on the edge of his comprehension. Try as he might, he couldn''t figure out what was wrong with his strikes. His jabs and thrusts just didn''t have that same quality as his father''s, and his footwork felt clumsy, borderline bumbling, in comparison.

    With a sigh, he stopped his pointless practice. Only to find Lauren sitting on a log watching him. She was mere yards away and he was surprised he hadn''t seen or felt her presence. He must have been too focused on his failures with Quicksilver to notice her. He could sense her now, though, like warm embers floating on the breeze. Rapidly he searched for threats, feeling guilty that he had accidentally forgotten to watch for foes. There was nothing amiss and he sighed in relief, then met Lauren''s appraising gaze.

    She motioned for him to come closer and speak to her. He obliged.

    "You''re quite good, is that a Technique?" She asked.

    "No. Or maybe it is, though I haven''t grasped it," Fritz said.

    "You don''t know? Who taught you?" She asked.

    "My father, long ago," Fritz admitted, not finding it to be a secret worth keeping.

    A little trust here on the fourth Floor couldn''t hurt, he reassured himself.

    "Ah," she said. "Well, you know you can layer the foundations of a Technique or a Trait before someone receives their Sanctum. Maybe that''s what he was doing."

    "Perhaps. In fact, it''s likely," Fritz said thoughtfully, thinking on all the little games that he and his father had once played.

    Ones that felt suspiciously like training. Ones like hide-and-seek and I-spy were innocuous, common even, but the count-the-doors or memory games felt very much like a nudge towards a certain Trait he now possessed. Suddenly he wondered how much of his former childhood had been soaked in hidden Sense refining practices.

    While he thought, Lauren coughed politely, bringing his attention back to her pretty, anxious face.

    "He was a Guide," Fritz eventually said, and predicting the question that was still being prepared on her slightly raw lips he softly added. "He disappeared."

    "Oh," Lauren said. Then after a pause continued, "I lost my father too. Not in a spire though, on the seas."

    Fritz nodded in commiseration.

    "The others say you''re a thief," she stated, moving from one painful topic to another.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "It''s not all I am. But yes," Fritz allowed with a strained smile.

    "Though you''re obviously highborn," she pressed.

    "Obviously?"

    "Your cadence, the way you hold yourself," she observed.

    Fritz smiled bitterly. "I find it hard to hide, or rather, I don''t want to hide it any longer," he said.

    "Why hide it at all?"

    "Because I have all of the airs and none to be heir to," Fritz said.

    "What?"

    "Never mind. Have you pried enough to be satisfied?" He rebuked.

    Lauren blushed and a small sheen of shame began to radiate from her.

    "Sorry," she said quickly.

    "It''s fine. Though if you want to make it up to me, keep my past and my... quirks as secret as you can," Fritz said.

    "I can do that," she agreed with a nod.

    "Promise me you won''t tell anyone on the outside," he demanded softly, staring into her eyes.

    "I... promise," she stated.

    "Good," Fritz said with a quick smile. "We should wake the rest, then we can search for more treasure. I know there''s some out there I feel it in my bones."

    He stood and Lauren joined him in rousing the team from their slumber. While the sleeping rose and breakfast began, Fritz strode hastily, but not hurriedly, to his pack then dug around within it. At the bottom his hand seized on the lumpy, lined surface of the Aberrant Seed. He felt a flash of annoyance at his mistake but pushed it away. It wasn''t like it was some great crime that he had brought it along, but he was still frustrated at his own thoughtlessness and fickle attentions.

    He tucked it away into a pouch into his belt, wanting it close to hand rather than buried in his spare underclothes.

    With that small distraction addressed, he sat around and took a steaming skewer of crab when it was ready, enjoying it far more than how the monster had been prepared before. He thanked the Gods that Cal had a decent knowledge of how to cook. Rosie hadn''t been wrong on that fact at least, like she was on most others.

    It was a simple change, to spear the meat with sticks and sear it over the open flames, but it made all the difference in texture, giving the crab a delightful crunch that was sorely lacking from the sticky stew. They ate with some small talk, mostly about their aches and pains, groaning when Fritz informed them of his plan for the day: another trek to find treasure and after that more training.

    "I swear, It''s like you don''t want to be rich at all," Fritz huffed haughtily. "You peasants should know your place. Really, you should be doing all the hard work while I laze around. I mean while I provide direction and order."

    "Direction I''ll give you, but order? Really?" Bert scoffed.

    "I misspoke. I give orders," Fritz said. "Like hurry up and finish eating! We have treasure to seek!"

    They mumbled their assents and soon they were ready to move out onto the dunes within minutes.

    Fritz led them what he had dubbed as ''north'', as they had tried the ''east'' yesterday.

    There were two groups of crabs but they were easily dispatched. Their group had gotten even better at fighting this particular foe and the small group tactics Fritz had taught them had taken root. Hit and run, luring foes into disadvantageous positions and whittling them down was becoming ingrained in their battle style, though none of the team accidentally learned The Observations, even Rosie who was actually trying for it.

    The clashes with the crabs were simple, almost rote by the last group. And though that eased Fritz''s nerves, still, the uneasiness that had plagued him since he had woken was steadily growing. He searched the horizon as they found their way to this newest oasis, and saw nothing but sand and stones. Fritz rolled his shoulders and turned away, bending his Awareness on the grass, trees and waters in front of him. In his gut, he knew that they were in the right place, that there was something secret, maybe buried or perhaps hidden within the lush vegetation.

    The team spread out all performing their own investigations, tapping on sandstone, wading through grass or in Rosie''s case plunging their head below the surface of the oasis. Fritz scanned the area for anything interesting just as Rosie''s face surfaced and she gasped then choked as she attempted to yell.

    Fritz was beside her on the small shore within moments, a smile on his face as he waited for the scaled woman to clear her throat.

    "I saw something," she croaked out.

    "Good!" Fritz said slapping her on the back, then shaking off the dull ache that hitting her hard scales had inflicted. "Lantern!"

    Cal walked towards them with the requested iron lantern and handed it off to Fritz who, without delay, stuck it and his head into the water. The beam of light split the gloom, illuminating a wooden chest with glinting bands of silver. It sat there, half buried in pristine silt at the bottom of the oasis, right in the centre and serenely glittering. Fritz quickly surfaced and grinned.

    "What did you see?" Cal asked as Rosie, who had also been looking below the waters, rose with a splash.

    "A chest," Fritz announced to the team, who were making their way to the source of the commotion. "A silver chest."

    "Really!?" Rosie blurted. "I could only see something shiny."

    "Yes. Shimmering purely, bright as the moon. Sunken treasures, in my arms soon," Fritz espoused. "Bert my rope, I''ll need you all to pull me up once I give the signal."

    "What''s the signal?" Rosie asked.

    "Three tugs," Bert and Fritz said together.

    The rope was tied around his waist, he took a deep breath and he dived into the warm water. His bones ensured that he sank like a stone and kicked up a cloud of the white silt as he struck the bottom. He strode through the murk and pulled on the chest. It was stuck fast but with a bit of jiggling and jolting, he freed the treasure and scooped it into his arms. His lungs were starting to strain, but it was nothing compared to his other misadventures underwater. He tugged on the rope three times. With a sudden force, that pushed the last of the air out of his lungs, he was lifted up and away. Back to the surface.

    After some splashing and some sharp gasps, not all of which came from Fritz, he surfaced. Grinning around at the staring team, he caught his breath and held out the chest. He displayed it in all its gleaming glory and Rosie spoke up.

    "Does this count as me or Fritz finding it?"

    "You, of course," Fritz said, stepping out of the oasis to lay the chest on the ground.

    Before he was able to set the silver banded box down his dull unease soared into a sharp fear. He pulled the precious chest close and stared around frantically.

    "Don''t be greedy," Rosie whined.

    Fritz didn''t reply, focusing instead on the lurking threat.

    "What''s wrong?" Bert asked, noting his serious mood.

    "We''re under attack," Fritz intoned, not knowing why but knowing it was true.

    A soft whistling from the sky had Fritz staring upwards, he frowned and squinted, seeing only the winking of stars. An arrowhead and a shaft of wood passed right through his leather armoured leg and stuck in the ground behind him. Then the pain hit him, real pain, not before-image or premonition but a red-hot agony. Fritz fell to a knee and dropped the chest.

    "Run!" He screamed over the yells and clattering of weapons being readied.

    "Cal, get the chest," Bert ordered, taking over command as Fritz struggled to stand with the one, almost two, inch hole drilled through his thigh.

    "Get out of here! Back to the Stairway! Into the Well room!" Fritz shouted at the startled faces.

    To their credit it only took them a moment to comply, rushing away, following the track they had left behind in the sand.

    "Can you walk?" Bert asked seriously.

    "No, carry me," Fritz decided, instantly discarding his pride for pragmatism.

    Another whistling and Cal screamed in the distance, an arrow passing through his arm and shattering on the chest that fell from his hands. He reached out a hand and the wood and silver of the chest warped, then were sucked away, disappearing as if dragged down into a whirlpool. Cal staggered, vomited, then fell bonelessly to the sand. Rosie pulled him up, she was strong enough to move him, but it was slow and clumsy going.

    She didn''t wail this time, she set her teary features resolutely and dragged her brother onward, towards their camp and the Stairway. Lagging at the back no longer, George thudded over to her. He pried Cal from her grip and hauled the man onto his shoulders with a grunt of effort. She nodded gratefully and they ran together.

    From ahead, Lauren turned and looked back with worry, unsure of what to do. And it seemed to have saved her life, as another bolt from the sky passed straight through where her chest was going to be if she had continued running. She stared at the green fletched arrow stuck halfway in the ground, horror filling her eyes and face. Then she hid, ducking behind George as he pressed forward, his feet pounding the sands as he picked up speed and broke into a sprint.

    Fritz cursed as the whistling sounded again and Bert was struck, the arrow plunged into his shoulder but didn''t pass all the way through. He grunted and gritted his teeth, ignoring the shaft and pulling Fritz to his feet and throwing him over his other, uninjured shoulder.

    "What in the Abyss is going on," Bert growled as he began to follow the fleeing team.

    "It''s him," Fritz hissed as he tried to keep his head straight and eyes searching for their assailant.

    "Who?"

    "The bloody raider," Fritz said. "The one you talked to."

    "Oh," Bert said. "Whoops."

    "Duck!" Fritz cried out as he activated his ring, the barrier pushing him off his friend''s shoulder as it enveloped him.

    Bert went into a dive as Fritz slipped from his grip and tumbled to the sand, causing them to both be propelled forward, rolling. The incoming arrow pierced right through the near-invisible barrier, but its aim was off and the bolt missed by an inch, cutting through his armoured forearm and leaving a slowly dripping line of red. With the ring''s protection dispersed, Bert was able to haul Fritz up again and keep sprinting.

    As he was jostled, Fritz finally spotted their attackers. Gleaming specks in the distance, illuminated by this Floor''s strange glow. Three figures, one with the bow and two following. The person with the bow had stopped loosing arrows and was now bounding towards Fritz like a playful dog as the other two ran behind.

    Another hound. An ill omen.

    And just as bad, the hole in his leg had gone numb and his thigh cramped painfully. Poison. He could nearly feel it, he could feel it, spreading from his wounds as his muscles began trembling. Though as the venom seeped into the muscle it burned and it froze. He could tell the dread substance was being boiled away when it came too close to the moonsilver lining his skeleton. It felt like there was a cold furnace deep within his bones that scorched rot, seared decay and incinerated corruption. Purifying his flesh and blood for the mere price of pain.

    Fritz paid willingly with a grimacing grin plastered to his face as he struggled to keep his eyes on their pursuers.

    The figure holding the bow, Vaa''gur, he was certain, was gaining but his followers flagged and were left behind. The man was fast, moving over the dune at a pace Fritz couldn''t believe, each of his graceful strides eating the distance between them like a ravenous beast. Still, it was unlikely they''d be caught, the raider was at least a hundred yards away, maybe more and Bert was sprinting to their camp that was only some minutes away.

    The man was gaining, and Fritz could now see his bearded face and cold black eyes. The predatory grin he was wearing changed to a furrowed brow of fury as they showed no signs of slowing. Seemingly the vicious bastard had expected whatever venom he had coated his arrows in to cripple their flight and thwart their escape. He was wrong.

    Fritz and Bet reached the camp, just as Lauren was gathering the last of their packs and bags and striding to the Stairway. They quickly joined her, breathing hard and sweating in the chill air.

    "Everyone through?" Bert asked.

    "Yes, is Fritz alive?" She asked worriedly.

    "I''m fine," Fritz called from his undignified position on Bert''s shoulder. "Get me to the Well and I''ll be much better though."

    "Right. Of course," Lauren replied, handing their traveller''s packs to Bert.

    He took them and they fled, finding the Stairway and running up its scaly stone brick steps to find themselves in the Well room.

    When they reached the landing and found their team huddled around a sick and shivering Cal, Rosie burst out, "What was that!?"

    "We''re being hunted," Fritz replied as Bert set him down.

    "Why?!" Rosie asked.

    "Who?!" Lauren demanded.

    "How?" George wondered.

    "Unfortunately, it''s a short story."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 28

    "Let me heal first," Fritz said, staggering towards the floating diamond that he assumed to be the Well. The worried team parted before him, allowing him to touch the head-sized, pulsing gem.

    Cool Power flowed down his arm and into his centre. And in a moment of desperate need to recover his ability to walk, he focused on the hole in his thigh, willing the energies to concentrate there rather than spread out. To his great surprise, his nudging worked, somewhat. It was like diverting one of the great gutters into a smaller stream and the restorative power soaked where he guided its refreshing magic.

    The wound quickly closed, a miracle like that of a healing potion, much of the muscle that was drilled away was reknitted and regrown before his very eyes. His skin closed over, forming a white scar, like a pale moon, near-instantly. He put some weight on the limb to find it if not fully recovered then close to it. The focused healing had come at a cost though, as he found his other aches, pains and small injuries lingering.

    With a sigh, he took in the room and the fearful faces around him. From the look of them they must''ve also taken in the healing energies as the small wounds they had been accumulating had disappeared. This Well room was domed and pure white like they were on the inside of an egg, one with a flat floor. The Well gem hovered in the centre, softly spinning and radiating waves of Power. A greedy part of him wanted to try take the multifaceted jewel but he knew it to be impossible: You couldn''t take a Well out of the Spire, no matter how much you tried.

    Or a chest for that matter, he thought as his eyes lay upon the pale and shivering Cal. The man moaned and clutched his chest. Fritz pulled out a vial of anti-toxin and threw it to Rosie who caught it then fed it to her brother.

    "Anyone else hit by any arrows?" Fritz said. "They were poisoned."

    The rest of the team shook their heads as Bert pulled out the arrow from his shoulder with a grimace then partook of the Well''s healing power.

    "The potion''s not working!" Rosie shouted.

    Fritz strode to Cal''s side, noticing as he did so, that the Stairway from the previous Floor was still there, not blocked or non-existent as it usually was. He suspected that it had remained due to the presence of Climbers, no, hunters, within.

    He pushed the thoughts away as he leant over Cal and inspected the hole left in his arm. It had scabbed over, but it was nowhere near the level of recovered that Fritz''s own scarred over injury was. Grimacing, he attempted to feel for venom seeping outward from the wound with his Awareness. There was some there, but it was muted. The anti-toxin was already working, neutralising the worst of the weakening substance. Yet Cal still writhed and clutched at his breast.

    At his centre, his Sanctum, Fritz realised.

    "Something is straining his magic," Fritz muttered to himself.

    "Cal! Take out the chest!" he yelled, guessing at the problem.

    Cal looked at him blearily, confusedly, his face scrunched in terrible pain.

    "The Treasure chest, throw it out!" Fritz ordered.

    Cal''s eyes widened in understanding and he screamed. The air warped around an outstretched hand and with a sucking sound the chest was spat out of his Personal Pack Ability, falling to the floor with a clunk and a clank. The man lay insensate, sweat pouring off his skin as his breaths, that had started shallow, lengthened and deepened.

    Normally Fritz would have let Cal rest and recover without magical aid. Unfortunately, there was no time for that. The uneasiness was building again, right there in the back of Fritz''s head, and creeping up and down his spine.

    "Stamina potion, Rosie," Fritz ordered.

    She nodded and frantically rummaged through her pouches, pulling free the vial containing the bubbling, translucent yellow liquid and pouring it down Cal''s throat. His eyes flickered and his body relaxed. Soon he groaned and stared around in a daze.

    "Bert, George, guard the Stairway," Fritz said. "Lauren prepare to burn anyone who comes through that Door while I pick the next Floor."

    "What''s happening?" Lauren asked as she kept an eye on the Stairway, shuffling slightly closer to it so it was within the range of her Fire Breath.

    "An acquaintance. A Journeyman Climber that Bert met at the Ceph outpost," Fritz said wearily. "He took an instant disliking to me, for what reasons I could only guess. Oh, and he mentioned The Commands."

    Lauren hissed and drew her weapon, holding its hilt tight and trembling slightly, while Gorge groaned and pointed his own blade at the open stairs that led down.

    "What is that meant to mean?" Cal asked groggily as he sat up gingerly.

    "Krakosi raider," Lauren said as if it was explanation enough.

    It turned out it was explanation enough. Rosie clamped her mouth shut and Cal''s face fell.

    "We''re dead then," Rosie said pitifully.

    "Worse," Cal gulped. "Skinned, defiled and tortured."

    "No. Not if I can help it," Fritz said, pouring all the grim confidence he had into his voice. "Let me look at the Doors, then we''re leaving. I think we can escape: slow them down, or even lose them if we go through a Trap room."

    With the others staring at the stairs, fearful but ready to fight he turned to their three ways of escape.

    Fritz quickly scanned the Doors ahead of him, taking a mere moment to brush them over with his Awareness and Door Sense. The impressions were rough and clumsy, but he was able to tell one of them was indeed a Trap floor, or some sort of survival Floor like the one in the Sunken Spire with the blizzard. The other two seemed fairly safe, one was underwater and the other had some strange airiness and oddness that he didn''t want to test while being stalked.

    He returned to the group quickly.

    "We''re going through the middle Door, there will be traps, so step where I step and pay attention to my orders," Fritz commanded.

    "Death by trap or by murder. What''s the point?" Cal softly said. The words were mostly to himself, but in the dark silence every one heard the resignation in his tone.

    "The point is, that we''re still alive and we can fight and run. We''re not helpless Levelers, we''re Pathers one and all. And while he may be strong, he''s but a man," Fritz stated earnestly.

    Though his word reached their ears he could tell by the looks on their faces that they didn''t reach their hearts. He cursed himself for not taking Word of Courage when it was offered, this was the perfect situation for such an Ability.

    Out of the corner of his eye, Fritz caught a subtle silhouette stalking towards him. The blurred outline of the body moved slowly, silently. Fritz frowned, then, realising what he was seeing, made to call the retreat, but was interrupted.

    "Well said, for a weakling," A deep voice growled from the man, shedding the shroud of shifting white and revealing his presence.

    Vaa''gur was standing in their midst, gone were his rough hides, instead, he wore heavy leathers that were dark as a moonless night. A wild and snarling grin stretched across his rough features easily seen under his even rougher black beard. He lazily held a long, thick-bladed dagger that looked to be forged of lead, if not for the sense of ruin it radiated.

    "Flee!" The raider boomed, the command roaring into savage laughter as he lunged towards Fritz.

    While the team was caught completely unaware their recent training and brushes with death had sharpened them. After a moment''s hesitation they acted, Bert and George charged while Lauren spat her fire, catching them and the raider with her clinging flames.

    A ring of bone on Vaa''gur''s finger glowed a dim blue, and a shimming skein of of water flowed across his form, quenching the sticky fire before it could touch his skin. The other two were not so lucky. George screamed, dropping his sword and batting at the fire covering his pauldron and scale cloak. Bert yelled as he burned, but he still lunged at the raider''s back. Even if he couldn''t see the attack, Vaa''gur avoided the tackle with a too-smooth sidestep.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Seeing the raider was still rushing for him, Fritz activated his ring and drew Quicksilver, slashing it at the oncoming dagger in a desperate parry. The man''s dagger met his sword and beat it away with shocking ease, nearly knocking the weapon out of Fritz''s hand. Then Vaa''gur stepped in close, his coal-black eyes dancing over Fritz''s armour for vulnerabilities.

    No, not looking for vulnerabilities, but for parts that would cripple and cause the most pain, Fritz realised as he saw the raider''s sadistic grin. The barrier saved him, the dagger''s point thrown off by an inch, which was enough for Fritz to dodge back and out of the way.

    With a wave of the hand, Fritz called on his Dusksong and wove his curse into the raider''s flesh, then called out to his team.

    "Run! Middle door! I''ll be right through!"

    Vaa''gur laughed and closed in on Fritz again as his team moved, Rosie hauled her brother out while Lauren began to run. Suddenly she seemed to remember the Treasure chest and turned to recover it.

    A fat man sprinted up and out from the Stairway, clad in cheap leathers and swinging a sledgehammer at her breast. Lauren''s fearful eyes locked onto the man, then with only a heartbeat of hesitation, she took a quick breath and exhaled, flames spewing from her open mouth.

    While Vaa''gur had his magic ring, this man had no such protection and was immolated immediately, even as the hammer hit with a heavy thud and a cracking of bones. He screamed and dropped his weapon, then dropped himself, rolling in an attempt to put out the sticky, searing fire. Lauren was knocked off her feet and lay on the ground wheezing. Tears streamed from her eyes and she rolled, then crawl towards the middle Door. The pain was too much and she passed out, flopping helplessly.

    Meanwhile, Fritz had been doing his best to defend himself from the raider, using every trick he knew to stall and disengage. It was for naught, however capable he thought himself, Vaa''gur had him beat in both subtlety and skill. And Strength. Fritz knew the raider, grinning bestially, was playing with him, every clash of blades would result in long, shallow cuts along his arms and legs. The wounds burned like they were poisoned, and perhaps they were, though he saw no foul fluid dripping off the clean metal of the dark dagger as it plunged towards him again and again.

    Bert joined the fray, no longer on fire and punching forth in a furious, compact string of strikes. Vaa''gur dodged them all. With dread, Fritz realised the raider had Awareness and something akin to his Danger Sense. It let Vaa''gur slither between both his and Bert''s attacks while scoring their skin in return.

    The only thing that gave him some trouble was when Fritz shrouded Quicksilver with Gloom Strike''s shadows and thrust forward. It forced the raider to focus on the blade and frown for a moment, though that didn''t stop his smile, in fact, it grew wider. At the last moment, he was able to slap away the precise stab with a brutal parry while his other hand snaked out and grabbed Fritz by the throat. The raider didn''t grip so hard that his windpipe was crushed, but it was tight enough that he could no longer breathe.

    Fritz didn''t panic, he stared at the man in his cold, black eyes, while he grasped the hilt of his bone dagger. He feigned fear, trying to scream as he struggled, as if he were completely overcome by terror. Just as the man, no, the beast, wanted. Hot, panting breaths hissed from his gleeful grimace and Fritz could feel them on his face as he was pulled closer. Shifting shadows slid out from his centre and shaded his bone blade, then he called on its cruel curse.

    With a smooth, subtle movement, Fritz drew his dagger out, slashing upwards and across Vaa''gur''s outstretched forearm. The raider, so intent on reading the agony and despair in his prey''s face, missed the cut as it parted flesh and skittered along bone. Though he didn''t miss it coming next for his heart. Vaa''gur jerked his hand, trying to snap Fritz''s spine with his terrible Strength. He was thwarted by moonsilver-laced bones and he released Fritz and leapt back, out of the cursed dagger''s reach.

    While Fritz''s neck wasn''t broken that didn''t mean that the parting attack didn''t hurt him. He stumbled and fell, choking and wheezing. In his dire state, he looked around for his team. George had seized both Lauren and the chest under each arm and was running to the middle Door. Another man, this one thin, but also in cheap leathers, struck at him. The ill-kept blade clattered harmlessly off of the iron armour. George ignored the assault, passing into the Door and striding up its stone steps.

    The thin man didn''t dare follow through, seemingly realising that he''d be outnumbered on the other side.

    Fritz stared away and up with blurry vision, his watery eyes taking in the scowl of Vaa''gur as he inspected his bone-deep cut as he wove between punches and kicks. While Fritz''s dagger hadn''t cut any vital veins it was still leaking a surprising amount of blood, trickling to the floor at a steady rate. The raiders hand shook, then he closed his fist tight. He weighed his options in a moment before retreating out of Bert''s reach and constant, compact blows.

    When he stepped backwards his dagger began to sweat a gooey, black substance. With a slash as quick as a viper''s bite he scored Bert''s arms as he attempted to pummel him. Bert hissed and withdrew as the edges of the cuts darkened and black veins began to spread outwards from the wounds.

    Vaa''gur stalked backwards warily, levelling his venom-coated dagger at the man, then he rummaged through his belt pouch without letting his eyes fall from his two opponents. His chest heaved and he bled all over the items in his pouch as he searched. Though his breathing was quickened it was also deep and steady, attempting a controlled recovery. Bert, glancing between the glaring, guarded raider and the frail, fallen Fritz, decided discretion was the better part of valour and rushed to his friend''s side. He picked him and his pack up and fled.

    The raider looked incensed and might have followed if not for his obvious caution and sudden fatigue. As they were about to flee through the Door Vaa''gur grinned wide.

    "I''m going to have a lot of fun with you two," Vaa''gur growled. "I''ll get you, and all your friends. Catch them all and make you watch."

    Fritz felt terror and fury war within, then he cursed the man again, feeling his shadowy mana drain away. In that moment he wished Lethargy could cause pain, could kill, and his Dusksong chimed along with the purity of his malice and hate.

    The thin man attempted to bar their way, his long dagger wrapped in a sheen of sharp water.

    "Not so fast, you''ve gotta get past me," He said.

    Bert merely raised a hand and sprayed the man full in the face with acid. The man dodged only half the blast and screamed in agony as one side of his face blistered while Bert charged right past him.

    Then they passed through the Door, leaving the raider and his melting minion behind.

    "Are you okay," Bert asked while taking the grey stone steps two at a time.

    "No," Fritz croaked. "Throat hurts."

    "Other than that," Bert asked curtly.

    "Yes, fine," he replied even though it wasn''t exactly the truth. The lacerations stung worse than they should have, and he was worried the dagger was poisoned like the arrows had been. "You?"

    "I''ll be okay. My right side is pretty badly burnt, but at least the venom feels like it''s meant to weaken not kill," Bert observed through gritted teeth, his arms trembling.

    They breached the Stairway, and Bert quickly dropped Fritz to the ground of the square, stone brick passage they found themselves within.

    The team was there and they looked terrible. Worse than that though: someone had opened the silver chest, without him and Bert present. Its great bounty was splayed on the dry and dusty ground. There was a heavy, ball-headed flail, a bastard sword made of a coppery metal, some snow white boots, a war-pick and an engraved, open-face helm. However, the things that immediately caught Fritz''s eye were the three vials of thick red liquid. Well, two now seeing that one was being fed to Lauren, who lay unconscious.

    She was breathing shallowly, wheezing softly with every exhalation and spots of blood collecting at the corners of her lips. With shaking hands George poured the potion into her mouth, the healing magic taking effect as soon as it touched her tongue.

    Ribs creaked and snapped back into their proper places, and her eyes opened wide as she groaned then coughed. George sat heavily, clanking as he looked around in a haze. Fritz was loath to order them up and moving, but he didn''t know how long they had before Vaa''gur pursued them.

    He strode before them, rubbing at his bruised neck and frowning at the team.

    "Did you get him?" Cal asked.

    Fritz scowled and shook his head.

    "He''s still coming?" George nearly groaned.

    He nodded while Bert added. "Fritz cut him, and he retreated ''cause he''s a cowardly raider."

    "If you hurt him why didn''t you finish him?" Cal asked in accusation.

    "It was like trying to brawl with the wind," Bert admitted with agitation, not at Cal but at himself. "I couldn''t touch him."

    Something occurred to Fritz, and he signed a question to Bert as to why he didn''t use his Corrosive Spray on the raider.

    "Because I didn''t want to catch you with it too, idiot," he explained.

    Abashed and not wanting to delay their retreat, Fritz signalled orders to Bert who shouted them for him.

    "We have to keep moving. Follow in my footsteps, do not run ahead." He stopped. "Are you sure you want to tell them that, Fritz?"

    Fritz nodded seriously so Bert continued, "Fritz says this is a Trap Floor."

    "How does he know that?" Rosie blurted suspiciously.

    "He has Trap Sense," Bert answered for him. "It''s limited but it works like a charm."

    "Trap Sense and a Danger Sense, explains a lot," Lauren muttered as she sat up gingerly with an arm wrapped around her chest. "How am I healed?" She stared at the glass vial lying beside her, the scattering of Treasures and came to the obvious conclusion. "Opened the chest. Healing potion."

    "Can you move?" George asked.

    "Yes," Lauren said. "Are you alright, I''m so sorry about the fire," she added, worriedly looking between the armoured man and Bert''s badly blistered arm, shoulder and back.

    "I''ll be fine," they said, grimacing together.

    Her face fell, but she nodded and stood with only a small stagger, then helped the rest as they collected the Treasures and stored them away to be dealt out later.

    Fritz led the way down the brazier-lit tunnel, not bothering with his pole any longer, relying instead on his Abilities and Awareness to find the dangers ahead. He thought on his next plan, as he knew they couldn''t run forever. In fact, they were already struggling to keep a good pace with all their small injuries. They''d have to fight again eventually, but as much as he wanted to ambush Vaa''gur he knew from that past battle they wouldn''t stand a chance if the raider fought seriously. If that beast of a man had used deadly venom rather than weakening ones from the outset, Fritz was sure that Cal would be dead, as would he and Bert.

    The knowledge was sobering, that, if not for the raider''s sadistic bloodlust, they''d already be skinned corpses, piled or splattered on the white sands below. With a shudder he pushed forward, determined for now to get to the next Well and see if the Passive offered could help even the odds. Maybe something like a defensive Ability, or perhaps even a Power that would allow him to hide his strikes better or make them more precise, even the extra Attributes would be a great boon.

    With an effort of Focus and Control, Fritz returned his apprehensive mind to the task at hand, scouting and leading his hurt crew. They were barely walking for a minute before he strode right up to the first hazard. It was readily apparent what would happen if you triggered the trap by stepping wrong, there were spikes in the corners between the stone bricks, ones that would spring forth like spears.

    Thankfully, this was just what Trap Sense was for and Fritz was able to navigate and lead his team over the yards of hidden spikes. He hurried them across and kept moving at a brisk pace, making sure to glance over his shoulder and search for strange blurs. His unease soared for a moment and he yelled through his brutalised throat.

    "Duck!"

    An arrow whistled down the narrow hall and over Rosie''s head as she swiftly crouched, hands over her head.

    "Run," he choked out.

    They did, making sure to stay behind Fritz, as he rushed through trap after trap, another one that triggered spikes from the ceiling and one that would loose poisoned darts. Arrows punctuated their retreat, Bert was hit once again while Rosie was able to dodge one by using her Interpose creatively, dodging by speeding to Fritz''s side.

    Five minutes of relentless pursuit and they found themselves at a crossroads. With a sigh of mixed joy and relief, he ducked behind the right side corner and pulsed his Door Sense. Two impressions returned to him. One down from where they gathered and one right across from them.

    He hadn''t a clue which was the real Stairway, or maybe they were both real. It wasn''t unheard of for a Floor to have multiple exits, but it wasn''t common either. He shook his head, he needed to make a decision. Due to the lack of information or time to collect it, it was to be a choice based entirely on luck. Unwilling to choose alone, he called a vote on which passage to take. His team panting and fearful, cast their votes without bickering. Oddly enough all the others, save Bert, voted to cross to the left-hand side, ignoring the other two options entirely. Something about the coincidence irked Fritz, unsettled him, and piqued his paranoia.

    "We stay on this side, this way," Bert translated from Fritz''s insistent signal.

    They scowled.

    "Why even call a vote?" Cal groused.

    Fritz didn''t bother to reply, leading them onward and down the near-identical tunnels. An explanation would have to wait until they escaped.

    If they escaped.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 29

    The team followed Fritz as he strode down the brazier-lit, and surprisingly smokeless, halls. They turned this way and that as the branching corridors presented themselves, winding as they did to deny any angle from which an arrow could be loosed. Focused as he was on his Trap Sense, Fritz nearly walked past a hidden passage, even though he was specifically searching for one.

    There was just too much to pay attention to. He had to listen for the whooshing of wind that preceded arrows, be on alert for the many traps he had to judge, and navigate whilst also needing to keep track of the distant Stairway''s direction.

    Fortunately, a rustling of flame in one of the iron braziers had him notice a subtle breeze that led him to a nondescript section of equally nondescript stone-brick wall. Fritz ran his fingers across it as the team stood around restlessly. Agitated and obviously on edge, they stared down the hall.

    "Why are you fondling the wall? A secret passage?" Bert asked.

    Fritz nodded and smiled when his hand ran over a particularly smooth brick. He pressed on the stone and it gave way to the pressure with a soft click. Something behind the wall clanked and the section ground open sideways. He ushered them through into a dry, dusty, or rather, dustier, corridor. When they were all through he pulled on a, thankfully, unobscured iron lever that shut the wall behind them.

    After a sigh and a sag of the shoulders Fritz hoarsely said, "Take a rest. We need it and we''ll know if the raider comes through that door."

    "Couldn''t miss it," Bert agreed.

    The rest of the team still looked sullen, angry and tired, but at least they didn''t complain about being told to rest. After some stilted inquiries about injuries, they had Lauren, with the help of the Amulet of Repose, use her Sooth Burns on both George and Bert. She had explained that the mana Essence of Fire produced couldn''t be used for the Life Aligned Ability, so Bert had offered his Treasure up to help with the task.

    She apologised softly, and her demeanour was steadily falling into a weary teariness. The burnt men stoically bore the small sorrys, waving off her concern with earnest words of forgiveness.

    "It was only a light scorching. No worse than any other burn I''ve received," Bert said, lightly slapping her on the shoulder.

    "The cloak protected me from the worst of it," George said. "But next time, maybe hold the fire until we''re out of the way."

    She nodded, a strained smile pulled onto her face as soothing waves of energy rolled off her palms and onto George''s blistered skin. The pustules receded and the red colouring of the scalded flesh faded, leaving his skin looking pink and raw.

    Lauren sighed heavily as the stamina drain took its toll, then she handed the golden amulet back now it had been wrung dry of mana.

    "Wish we had some triads to refill my precious Treasure," Bert said, rubbing at his much recovered upper arm. "Did we get any in the chest?"

    "Nah," Rosie said.

    "Aren''t you gonna scold us for opening it without you?" Cal asked darkly.

    "What? Gods no," Fritz choked out.

    Cal and Rosie stared at him, waiting for some explanation.

    Now that he had some time he pulled his water flask out and drank from it, hoping the cool water would help his sore throat. It did, and he made to answer their expectant expressions.

    "It was the right choice. With Lauren hurt as she was, gambling on receiving a healing potion or some life-saving Treasure was a good idea," Fritz said. "Who cares if the rewards are no longer tailored to Bert and I."

    While Fritz put on an air of gracious acceptance, some greedy, unfair part of him was annoyed. He shoved the feeling away and stated, "We should look over what we got while we have the time. We''re safe enough for now, but I don''t think this wall will stop that beast for long."

    The others nodded, arranging the various Treasures on the ground. They sat around the eclectic collection of objects and started going through them. There were the two healing potions, which were quickly split between Fritz and Rosie. The team readily agreed that they were the most likely to be able to help someone who was injured.

    Then there were two items that Fritz hadn''t noticed previously, both familiar. A Know-note and a pair of door dowsers. Items that hadn''t been rewarded to him before. It occurred to Fritz that the reason that the chests he had opened had none of the door-divining objects was likely due to having Door Sense. Lauren reinforced this suspicion when she spoke.

    "I''m glad that this chest had some Door dowsers. Strange the other chest didn''t have any, though it does happen, sometimes."

    "Aren''t they rare?" Bert asked.

    "No, one of the most common minor treasures along with Know-notes," She espoused. "They''ll make navigating this maze of tunnels much easier."

    "Wonderful!" Fritz lied, putting on a wide smile. "Though I''m more interested in all this other stuff. Oh, and there''s the flail you mentioned Cal. Lucky you!"

    Cal shrugged, reaching for the pale wooden haft of the flail. The dull chain clinked and rattled as he lifted it, and the heavy iron ball scraped across the floor as he drew it to himself.

    "And Rosie, it''s not an axe, but a war-pick is close enough, yes?" Fritz said motioning to the next item.

    "Guess so," She said taking up the weapon. Its shaft was made of ivory and it had a long, silvery spike on one side while on the other had a flat hammer head. "It''s a bit... pretty."

    "A pretty pick for a pretty lady," Fritz replied easily.

    Cal scoffed as Rosie blushed and hugged the Treasure to her chest possessively.

    "Wonder what it does," George said, though he mostly had eyes for the bastard sword.

    "We have one, now two no-notes, we just have to decide what to use them on," Bert said, stating the obvious.

    Lauren sighed and pulled out her lens, setting it to her eye, then gradually looking over the items. She started at the pick moved to the flail and copper sword, then the white boots and steel helm. Her brow started furrowed, but raised higher and higher, surprise overriding frustration as she inspected each item.

    "They''re all... Treasures," she said with no little wonder.

    "What?" Fritz said dumbly.

    "All of them?" Bert asked.

    "Yes, all of them," Lauren replied.

    "That''s got to be rare," Cal said, looking at his flail in new appreciation.

    "It is. Quite rare," she said, still somewhat stunned by the huge windfall.

    "How do we decide which ones to identify?" George asked.

    "Lottery?" Fritz suggested.

    "Calling dibs," Bert said, grinning.

    "Or maybe Fritz should decide everything, like before," Cal said.

    "Are you still mad about that?" Fritz said with some honest exasperation.

    Cal shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

    "I didn''t explain before because my throat was still stiff and painful from my small case of strangulation," Fritz continued. "Though, did you not notice how odd it was for you four to all vote the same way? In a heartbeat? Without conferring with each other?" The wrong way. he almost added, but stopped himself. He didn''t want to reveal that any time soon.

    His words were laced with a little more anger than he intended, Cal''s attitude had been grating on him for some time now. Even if he understood some of the man''s dark mood he didn''t know why he couldn''t just enjoy the victories and new Power like the others did.

    The team glanced at each other, their expressions thoughtful and somewhat embarrassed now that he had chastised them for their foolish misgivings. Even Cal had the good sense to begrudgingly nod and let go of this idiotic disagreement.

    "Treasures!" Bert said into the awkward silence.

    "Treasures! Let''s decide which ones to use the Know-notes on quickly. Lauren, you appraise things like this often, yes?" Fritz said.

    "My mother usually did the real work, though I did help and watch," she replied.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "Then do you have any suggestions or observations?"

    "Weapons first, it''s important to know what they can do if you''re going to use them. The second kind of Treasures to identify are usually armours, as it''s good to know what you''re being protected by and if it has any strange weaknesses. Though that might not be revealed entirely by Know-notes. You would need a proper appraisal for that. Then after that, it''s generally the items that anyone could use like apparel, rings, amulets and other jewellery."

    "Wait, no-note''s don''t tell you everything!?" Bert cried. "I''ve been scammed!" He threw the Know-note in his hand at the ground in fuming, false outrage.

    Fritz smirked at the display, especially when Bert scooped the white card right back up before giving the group an abashed look that was as fake as the affront he affected.

    The others seemed not to know how to react to the odd outburst, bemusement flourishing in their faces.

    Lauren coughed, raised an eyebrow, and continued her lecture. "They show the important things, like Imbuements, but not all the small properties like increased hardness, sharpness, or a resistance to a certain kind of element or magic. Most Treasures have enhanced durability to a degree, though not all Treasures are created equal and can have varying amounts of the myriad properties that may manifest."

    Fritz nodded, having noticed that himself. His bone dagger was both incredibly durable and wildly sharp, and when he''d gone to hone it further he found that his whetstone had no discernible effect on the razor edge.

    "That still leaves us in somewhat of a dilemma," Fritz said. "Three of these Treasures are weapons and we have only two Know-notes."

    The group offered no solutions so Fritz went with his gut.

    "Everyone grab the Treasure you want. Then we''ll decide with the great game of selection."

    "Great game of selection? What''s that?" Cal asked.

    "Paper-scissors-rock," Rosie said, reading into the words and ruining his reveal.

    Damn Awareness.

    "...Yes," Fritz agreed.

    "As good a plan as any," Lauren sighed.

    "I''ll grab this sword if no one objects. I do need a new one. I accidentally left my sword behind in my haste to get Lauren and the chest out," George admitted, grasping the copper bastard sword and looking over its hilt and blade with muted eagerness. No one opposed him.

    Lauren stared at the remaining Treasures, seemingly weighing up which one she should choose while Cal and Rosie held on to their respective weapons. She eventually reached out to the boots, they were made of thick, white hide and their insides were lined with pale fur that seemed as soft as a whispered word.

    The last item left was the helmet. It was forged of blue-tinted steel, was open-faced and without a nose-guard, the edges lined in dull silver. All across the outside there were engravings that made the metal look like interlocked scales.

    "Bert, are you desirous of a helmet?" Fritz asked.

    "Nay. I am...undesirous," Bert said attempting to mock Fritz''s pompous tones. "Armour would conflict with the Arte and I have my headband."

    "Oh right. Don''t the bracers count as armour though?" Fritz asked.

    "They do not, the Arte Pugilist even suggests that you use them. And has some drills for adding blocking and parrying to the mix of dodges, ducks and weaves. But it still relies mostly on evasion, for now."

    "Huh," Fritz said. "Any other hidden secrets of the Arte you''d like to share?"

    "Not really," Bert said. "But I think it was meant to be paired with another Technique that was meant to increase the toughness of your body."

    "Really?"

    Bert nodded sagely. "That or Abilities or Traits to do the same. The Brotherhood Escantor might have had a toughness Spire or something. If they were real."

    "They are real, or maybe were. Techniques come from humans. The Spire''s just appropriate them, somehow," Lauren provided, as she removed her grey leather boots.

    "Is that so," Fritz said, having remembered reading something of the sort long ago.

    "Mhm. It''s one of the few facts we know for sure," she said distractedly, slipping the snow-white boots over her bare feet. There was a subtle warping of the air around them and the hide seemed to shift, resizing to fit her snugly. She smiled as she looked down at her new footwear.

    "Comfy?" Fritz asked, revelling in his own boots.

    "Like walking on fluffy, warm clouds," she said happily.

    "Can we get to the Know-notes," Cal interrupted, rudely but rightfully so.

    The three with weapons readied themselves for the game and faced off. While it might have been fine for them all to compete with their various Treasures normally, they knew that they needed to seize every advantage to survive, and that meant finding out what the weapons did.

    Rosie claimed the first victory with scissors and a smug smile, while George claimed the second with rock and an apologetic grimace. With that, it was settled and the Know-notes were awarded. The cards were tapped to the pick and the sword and the group crowded in to get a good view of the glyphs as they burnt into the paper.

    Fritz sat back, content to let them see what the Treasures did, then decided to try on the helmet, just to see how it felt. It was a little heavier than he''d like and even though it was open-faced his vision was still limited on the peripherals, something he couldn''t countenance. As a Scout he needed to be able to see anything that was coming for him, so he took the offending armour off.

    "Interesting, but a little underwhelming," George said. "Not that I''m complaining, mind you."

    Peering over the man''s shoulder at the Know-note in his hand Fritz read:

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Copperchange Sword

    ---

    Alignment: Blade, Metal.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/9

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Malleable Form: Four Swords, Ring.

    Many a thing, shape of one. Solid changing, all and none.

    This Treasure transforms between one of five forms: Greatsword, Bastard Sword, longsword, shortsword and Ring.

    Alignment: Blade, Metal.

    Cost: Swords: One, Ring: Two.

    Duration: None.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    "Versatile," Fritz complimented, though he was also disappointed in the Imbued Abilities. Though the more he thought about it the more it appealed to him.

    "How quickly does it change?" Fritz asked.

    "Good question," George said.

    The bastard sword in his hand shifted, its blade retracted while the wide cross-guard and heavy pommel shrunk down until the weapon could more properly be classified as a longsword. It took less than a second and Fritz''s estimation of the item grew.

    "Could be very useful for feints or surprising your foe with a sudden shift in the blade''s reach," He observed.

    George smiled, then broke into a wide grin as he considered the new possibilities the Treasure provided.

    The hidden hallway was suddenly cast in white light, the origin of which was Rosie''s war-pick. Its head glowed brightly, though the light didn''t obscure the weapon, rather it seemed to radiate the light, illuminating everything around her, much like the previous Floor had.

    She held it aloft like a torch, waving it to and fro.

    "I like this Treasure," she said with glee.

    "Can I see the Know-note?" Fritz asked as Lauren had just finished reading it. She handed it off and he read:

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Starlight Pick

    ---

    Alignment: Light.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Light

    Brightly shine, clear as day, banish dark, light the way.

    This Treasure sheds a bright light.

    Alignment: Light.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Three hours.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Glow Strike

    Brilliant blows, a gleaming smite. Sticking stars, pierce the night.

    Your strike dispels shadows and inflicts a shining mark.

    Alignment: Light.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: Strike: Three seconds, Affliction: Ten Minutes.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    This Treasure was far less interesting to Fritz, it would be terrible for a scout like himself. That and the light, while tolerable, made him feel agitated and exposed.

    "We''re supposed to be hiding, put out the light," Cal hissed.

    "How do I turn it off," She asked, waving the shining pick as if trying to dislodge the light.

    "It didn''t say it was suppressible, so you can''t," Lauren said frowning.

    Fritz sighed. "Hold it still," he ordered, and when she did he wove an orb of Illusory Shadow over the weapon. The light was immediately devoured, plunging them back into the dim flickering of the braziers.

    "What? Is that a Darkness Ability?" Cal asked with some shock.

    "Yes. I don''t know why you''re acting so surprised. I told you about it before," Fritz said, then added with a smirk. "Unless you thought I was lying, and have been secretly suspicious of both me and my motives."

    Cal looked away, abashed and mumbled something under his breath that was covered by Rosie''s voice.

    "No, we wasn''t suspicious or nothin''," she exclaimed without guile. "We trust you, don''t we Cal."

    She nudged him with her elbow and with a fake smile he said, "Yes, we trust you."

    "Good, good," Fritz intoned, sitting back and relaxing, pretending his ire had abated.

    "Does no one want the helm?" George asked.

    "Looking for a replacement?"

    "Not really, I want the visor," He replied. "Wouldn''t want to take a claw to the face."

    "I don''t know, a rugged scar might suit you," Bert said.

    George smiled.

    "The helm''s carvings would match me scales," Rosie said. "But I already have a Treasure."

    "Take it," Lauren said. "You''re a defender, after all, a little armour would do you some good. Triply so, because Durability extends some small amount of its effects to your armour and apparel."

    "Interesting. I didn''t know that," Fritz said. "Though I think that''s enough talking. Now that we''ve caught our collective breaths, we should be moving."

    Rosie slapped on the helmet and fastened its scaled strap. It looked somewhat incongruous on her slight frame, making her resemble a lopsided, heavy-headed mace, but Fritz supposed she''d grow into it in time.

    Though the team were still tired and scared, their mood had lifted considerably in the past minutes. They chattered excitedly now they each had a Treasure, even if they didn''t know what they all did. Fritz shushed them, holding a finger to his mouth as he heard a scraping, then a tapping on the false wall behind them. He motioned them to follow and led them further into the maze.

    They reached another crossroads, and Lauren pulled out the Door Dowser and handed it to Fritz. He hid his grimace, these were likely worth gold and using them up was a waste of triads. But he also needed to keep his cover. Even if he had already revealed a lot of his secrets, Door Sense was not one he would ever disclose willingly. It was far too risky, what if they went to the Guides and told them about his Ability? He knew there had to be a bounty on people like him who hid their Guide-like Powers.

    Plastering a pretend smile on his face he took the Door dowsing stick. It was twisted like a twig and had small glyphs written up its length on one side. With an internal sigh, he activated it, and felt it shiver and reverberate with his Door Sense and Awareness. It tugged his hand to the side until it pointed down the right side passage. Then it snapped in two, vertically, so he was left with the thin wooden halves in his fist.

    Though the way it had split had been somewhat surprising, the more surprising thing was that his Door Sense gave him a far clearer impression than it had before. One that gave him a better sense of the distance between them. He looked down at the dowser with wonder. Maybe they aren''t so useless for me after all.

    Shaking his head free of distraction he moved right, following the new impression''s urging. From behind the grinding of the wall could be heard. Vaa''gur must have found the correct brick.

    "Run?'' Cal asked anxiously.

    "Run," Fritz agreed.

    Without another word they fled, running down the stone tunnels, veering right whenever an opportunity presented itself. They crossed the multitude of deadly traps as quickly and as carefully as they could. Though most of the danger was dulled, or rather the perilous pits and springing spikes were rendered into little more than annoying nuisances by Fritz''s Ability.

    After around eighteen minutes of cautious running, they had reached the Stairway up and hadn''t seen any more arrows or any sign of the raider following, though Fritz knew that he still was. Likely the beast of a man was being delayed by the traps, giving them the edge in these deceptively dangerous halls.

    "Thank the Gods," he panted as he ran up the familiar stairs and into the Well room above.

    With a quick assessment, he spotted the Well. This one was a column of falling water at one side of the room opposite the Doors upwards. The cylindrical waterfall misted the area as it spilled through a grate of fine golden bars. The rest of the room was nondescript stone brick, looking like one of the many flooded waterway tunnels below the ground of Rain City. The ones long left abandoned after they had been filled with water and had failed in their purpose.

    Fritz ran to the Well and plunged his hand into the column, pulling in the cold burning energies into his Sanctum. Bert soon followed and signalled that he wanted his Golden Seed. Fritz rankled at having to wait to sink into his Sanctum. But he acquiesced without complaint, opening his pack and with a small trick and some sleight of hand, placed the soap into his friend''s pocket without the gathering team noticing.

    He sat in a rush, nearly falling into the water behind, but catching himself easily. Fritz dived into his raining Sanctum, ignored the cackling flame in the corner of his vision and found his newly offered choices.

    Or he would have if a subtle scent and a clinking of glass didn''t break his concentration and bring him back to the real world. He was quick to spot the black glass bottle pouring out a billowing cloud of almost invisible green-tinged gas. The fog of transparent green wafted over him and now he could taste the gas as well as smell it. It was like liquorice mixed with citrus and a hint of stone dust, dry and light. His tongue numbed then his eyes and nose. His face was next and then the rest of his skin, his chest and head felt heavy and he sagged where he sat.

    He turned to see the rest of his team still in their Sanctums. Fritz cursed, in their haste they had made a mistake, no watchers. Though maybe it wouldn''t have made a difference as Vaa''gur blended into view, stepping away from the wall like he was walking out of it. He grinned smugly as if he''d been waiting for them and they''d stupidly stumbled into his trap.

    "Caught you."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 30

    Fritz''s head swam as he breathed in more of the numbing air, but he didn''t dare take his eyes off the raider approaching or his savage grin.

    At least he looks hurt, Fritz observed, searching over the man''s ragged appearance, and the tearing of his black armour and the many cuts he had taken on his skin.

    Lauren slumped to the side, unconscious. Bert seemed to barely notice the poison as he clasped the bar of soap with the Golden Seed hidden within. The rest of the team, feeling the effects of the sedative poison woke one by one. In dazes, they stared around, then upon noticing the raider, scampered backwards, away from the man''s cruel, hungry gaze.

    Vaa''gur approached, but walked right past Fritz and dipped his own hand in the Well, many of his small cuts closing. The raider smiled coldly, turning his attention back to the still-staring team. He laughed, rough, loud and terrible. Fritz could see the man''s sadistic joy dripping from him like smoky tar.

    "Why?" Fritz asked, his tongue feeling slimy and stiff in his mouth.

    "And you still dare speak," Vaa''gur growled. "No sense, and no strength. A mewling weakling to the end."

    Fritz fell silent, more out of reaching for some insult than out of fear, but that didn''t seem to matter to the raider.

    "He learns his place! Learns silence like he should!" Vaa''gur raved. "Too late! Far too late for you!"

    "Who should I enjoy first? Whose screams will sound the sweetest?" He growled, bending down and staring mad black eyes into Fritz''s own while the team looked on in terror.

    He was close, too close, their noses almost touching. Hot, excited breath blew over his face. Vaa''gur reached for his dagger''s hilt and his excitement only seemed to grow.

    A subtle glow of golden light washed over Bert and vanished in a moment. It may have gone without notice, and would have if Vaa''gur didn''t immediately stop his ranting and spun on Bert.

    "Golden Seed," He muttered confusedly, then comprehension lit up his face and he frowned furiously. "You liars! Spinning lies like spiders!"

    Bert finally opened his eyes, and upon seeing the raider looming over the team stood and raised his fists. He lowered his head, his muscles tensed and his veins bulged, amber eyes glinted with red for a second. His skin seemed to slightly bend the air an inch around him, and he charged. Bert was a blur, his feet thundered like hooves while his body carried some terrible momentum.

    Vaa''gur''s shock was apparent for less than a heartbeat before he attempted to dodge while drawing his dagger in one motion. His inhuman reflexes allowed him to avoid most of Bert''s overwhelming rush, stepping out of his path. But even with his great speed and skill, he was still clipped by an elbow crashing into his shoulder.

    The raider was flung from his feet, spun in the air for a moment, then slammed upon the ground before harnessing the force to roll away and stand again. He didn''t look all that hurt from the impact, save for the telling trickle of blood that leaked from his bandaged forearm. Bert''s charge continued until he struck a wall and bounced off with a thud. He fell to the ground and groaned.

    Vaa''gur didn''t give him another look, instead, he stared in disbelief at his still bleeding wound, then at the Well. He pulled off the bandage as Bert staggered to his feet. Under the dressing the raider saw the unrecovered injury. He sniffed it then glared hard at it, searching for something.

    His distraction had the team moving again, struggling with shaky limbs to lift their weapons. It was pointless, they couldn''t hope to hit the man normally, what did they think they were going to do while weakened by this numbing gas? They needed to flee into a Door again, one without too many threats so Fritz and Bert could stall for some time without having to protect their team. If they could get to the sixth Floor''s Well room they''d be safe from attack from other Climbers. At least that''s what he remembered.

    It was their best bet, so Fritz did what he could, standing on trembling legs, trying to ignore the cold burning ache all through his skeleton. Drawing Quicksilver he stepped a pace backwards and felt at the Doors behind him.

    All three gave off impressions of mild danger, barely anything to worry about now that they were all Pathers. But one was underwater and the other had a strange heaviness to it, one that tried to pull you to the ground. It would have to be the rightmost one then.

    "Rosie, Cal, George! Take Lauren and get out! Right Door!" Fritz called out thickly.

    "What about the spite?" Cal objected blearily.

    "Endure it, we''ll be along in a moment. And don''t even think of leaving anyone behind! Get out!" He yelled again as the raider turned his gaze on Fritz and eyed his bone dagger.

    "Cursed?" He guessed. "What''s such a precious Treasure doing in a place like this?"

    Reminded of curses, but running nearly empty on Dusksong mana, Fritz cast Lethargy at the man. Instead of reaching out with a hand and giving away that he was using an Ability he focused on activating it without movement.

    The silently shrieking energy was spat from his eye, quick, invisible, a bolt of lightning without the flash or boom. It coiled around the man''s chest and took hold, soaking into his body. It cost Fritz dearly and he swooned from the sudden drain. Vaa''gur grinned, seemingly from seeing his prey''s obvious pain and terrible struggle. And in his glee, he failed to notice the curse grasp him at all.

    His stamina must be monstrous, but it''s not endless. It will slow him down, Fritz reassured himself.

    Bert charged again, but the raider had plenty of space to react and slipped aside, dodging easily. Bert rushed past in a furious haze and a whoosh of wind, almost catching Fritz at the tail end of the Ability. Fritz stumbled out of the way and Bert nearly slammed into the wall behind, stopping himself at the very last second.

    Now that Fritz saw the raider''s obvious desire for the dagger he drew it and said, "I''ll give it to you if you let us go."

    Vaa''gur scowled and bared his teeth as if they were fangs.

    "I''ll have it from you anyway. But if you hand it over all quiet like, then I''ll slit your throat before I skin you," he said viciously.

    The counteroffer didn''t appeal to Fritz in the slightest, so he set himself to fight and Bert joined him, standing by his side.

    Vaa''gur merely watched them, his eyes darting to the rest of the team staggering up and heaving their gear. They were shuffling towards the right Door, with Rosie, who seemed the least affected by the poison, guarding the rear. George had taken it upon himself to lift Lauren and carry her while Cal hefted his flail and looked on, worriedly walking backwards as they slowly moved toward the next Floor.

    "Don''t worry. I''ll catch up with you all soon enough. Better look forward to it. I am," Vaa''gur said, pointing his leaden dagger towards Cal.

    The blade''s tip dipped and the raider darted towards Fritz, again he was almost caught by the sudden movement, his Danger Sense ignoring the obvious lethal intent of the raider''s attacks. Bert tried to intercept, but the man simply slithered around him and his punches, ever closer to Fritz. He thrust Quicksilver towards the raider, but he battered it away with contemptuous ease and moved in closer to bury the dagger in Fritz''s chest.

    In a blur, Rosie appeared between them swinging down with two red-rimmed weapons. The pick seemed to glow pink as its Strike was Activated and fought with Puncture''s magic. Vaa''gur slipped sideways out of instinct and avoided the pick. However, the hatchet''s descent scored a cut down his arm, and the new wound poured with blood. His other, tattooed, arm began to gleam as the dull green script lit up into a bright, sickening radiance.

    Fritz looked away in time, but Rosie got a full face of the light and pulled her weapons close. She wrapped her arms around her waist before she stumbled to the floor and vomited.

    Bert was dazed by the awful green tattoo, but he seemed to throw off the nauseating effect quickly. He shook his head and angled himself closer to the distracted raider, then used his new charge Ability. Vaa''gur hadn''t the room to dodge this time as Fritz had also lunged for the man, activating Gloom Strike and aiming his shadowed blade for the raider''s leg. A skewering strike that he avoided, but created an opening in his dodging defence. Bert barrelled into Vaa''gur, slamming into him full force and throwing him across the room in a tangle of limbs and tumbling arrows as they fell from his quiver. He groaned, but was soon moving, glaring hatefully at his opponents.

    Taking the offered opportunity, George, with Lauren hanging limply in his arms, left through the right Door, while Cal stood there shaking, staring at his sister as she lay groaning on the ground. He glanced down at the flail in his hands, steeling himself against his fear.

    Fritz watched as the raider stood again and tapped on the side of his quiver, then pulled a bow out of it like the leather was a puddle of thick mud. In his daze, Fritz idly noted that one or both of the items had to be some sort of Treasure, and might make a nice gift for a certain bow-woman.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He didn''t have that sort of time to muse, the poison was already robbing him of his ability to focus, his moonsilver bones couldn''t keep up with the toxin entering his body. Vaa''gur put an arrow to the suddenly produced bow''s string, just as Cal rushed for him, swinging the flail in at his head. The raider spat out a curse and ducked under the whooshing ball.

    The flail''s head soared over him and missed completely, then it suddenly changed direction and circled around Vaa''gur''s body, wrapping him with the chain. The iron links poured endlessly from the flail''s haft and slithered over the raider, coiling around him, then squeezing tight like a constricting snake. Cal looked on in complete shock, then dropped the handle of his weapon as it continued to bind his foe. He ran to his sister and stored her weapons away in his Personal Pack, then lifted her. With an unsteady gait he fled through the right Door, as he''d been ordered.

    Vaa''gur struggled against the chains tying his arms and bow to his chest. Fritz saw his chance and attempted to rush the man, only to almost trip and fall from his leaden feet. It felt like his boots had turned to stone, and his hands weren''t much better, numb and unresponsive like they were carved of marble. Quicksilver wavered in his grip as he fought to keep its point up. He nearly dropped his trusty blade.

    Hissing out a string of insults, Fritz staggered away towards the Door, leaving the raider to fight with the Treasure flail''s binding chains while he made a hasty, stumbling escape.

    Bert, who was panting heavily and looked around dumbly, followed his friend. He was absolutely exhausted, likely as much as Fritz was. They leaned on each other, passed into the Door and plodded up the stairs. As the air around them cleared, the dulling effects of the poisonous gas lessened, and with each step they became stronger, Bert more than himself, and soon they were taking the stairs in twos.

    When Fritz lurched out of the Stairway and finally took stock of the new Floor, he found they they were in a lush, but strange jungle. Humid and hot, the wind washed over him and rustled the long red leaves while setting golden branches to swaying. Ferns and tall trees surrounded the clearing they stood in on all sides. He spotted his team, Lauren awake and standing, but dazed and holding her shortsword. George by her side levelling his long copper blade at them. Cal was administering a potion to the fallen Rosie, who had a bleeding gash in her gut.

    He hadn''t seen her take the blow, but Fritz was sure she had received it when she Interposed herself. The dagger had gone right into her, with her scales barely blunting the blade.

    Fritz winced and took a moment to centre himself and breathe. Even if the air was sticky and hot it was a good deal better than the dry numbing poison. Luckily, it seemed that whatever toxin was in that gas was short-lived, as he could feel his limbs tingle and come back under his control.

    "How long do you think we have?" Bert asked.

    "A minute or two, maybe," Fritz said checking the still active Door behind him. "Likely less."

    "Let''s go then," Bert said.

    "Wait," Cal said. "Let''s lay some traps."

    "Not worth the time. I think he has something like Trap Sense, otherwise he wouldn''t have beat us to the Well room," Fritz explained.

    "It could slow him down some, and George has caltrops. Just scatter them here and we run," he replied.

    "I agree, and as much as it pains me to throw away gold, we should also rub a bit of that eel venom on them," Lauren suggested.

    "Again, I think he has ways around venom and poisons. Seemingly he''s some sort of poisoner himself, what with how he seemed immune to the gas. Likely took an antidote beforehand," Fritz guessed.

    "It''s not normal venom remember," Lauren said with some exasperation. "It purifies."

    Fritz stopped and considered the woman''s words, and although he thought it was likely a waste of resources, it was better that than dead.

    He nodded. "Who has the vials?"

    "I do," Lauren said as Rosie stirred and looked around.

    "Where''s my pick?" She asked.

    "Those are your first words?" Cal groused. "Not ''thank you for saving me?''"

    "Thank you for saving me," she echoed, then added, "Where''s my pick?"

    "Here," He said producing the silver weapon from thin air and handing it to her.

    Fritz felt a pang of envy, that Ability was extremely useful, and wasted on Cal.

    "How''s the stab wound," Cal asked.

    "It''s better, but still feels wrong. It aches and burns," she said. "And I feel sick in my stomach."

    Fritz realised that his own cuts from that dagger felt the same, though the dull burning had subsided somewhat, the pain still lingered. It wasn''t poison and didn''t feel like a curse, but something that was definitely toxic, likely a property of the leaden metal of the blade itself.

    He shook his head, banishing his distractions. "Can you run?"

    Rosie nodded as she stood gingerly.

    "Good, we need to go," Fritz stated.

    In a flurry of movement, they hauled up their packs. Caltrops laced with clearblood venom were scattered behind them as they ran into the thick vegetation. Not wanting to pulse his Awareness and drain what little energy he had, Fritz pulled out the second, and last, Door dowser then Activated it. This time he was ready for the more powerful impressions it provided and was able to veer them to the left where he felt the Stairway.

    In a stroke of terrible luck this red-gold jungle seemed to be a huge Floor, likely one that was to test their ability to travel long, uncomfortable distances rather than a sprint over harsh or barren lands. That''s not to say it couldn''t be dangerous but he had the distinct feeling that this was meant to test their survival skills instead of their combat ones. That may have been fine, good even, in any other circumstance. But while being hunted by the raider, it seemed like this Floor was a cruel joke.

    The only thing that eased Fritz''s nerves was the knowledge that the trees, vines and other plants would lend them plenty of cover and would render them almost impossible to hit from afar. Much unlike the white desert floor with its open flat dunes. No, the raider would have to get close to loose on them. Fritz hoped that even if they could not hide from the beast-like man that they could eventually outrun or outlast him. A fool''s hope he knew, but he had to trust the curses he had put on the man, as well as the traps they had laid.

    What else could he do?

    Eventually, running slowed into jogging that slowed further into striding, then finally turned into trudging. Pushing through the undergrowth, the bright birds whistled and chirped above them as they panted, sweat and staggered forward. If they hadn''t already gone through a fire-aligned floor and knew how to pace themselves, he knew they''d already have fallen, succumbing to the humidity and heat. Fritz handed out the vigour pills he had bought from Naomi what seemed like months ago.

    They weren''t stamina potions but they would keep them on their feet for longer, or so the hedge alchemist had claimed. Fritz iterated this fact and none complained as they swallowed them down with mouthfuls of wonderful water. They had to use the re-filling water flask, as theirs were already all out and empty. Thankfully the pills did have an effect, one that accumulated slowly, revitalising them slightly and putting some strength in their strides again.

    For hours they trudged, handing the waterflask among themselves, trying to recover all the water they lost from sweating. Until Fritz heard the burbling of a creek and led them towards it. He thought it to be only a mile or two away, but he was wrong, both in the distance and about it being only a small creek. The burbling had become a roar as they got closer and closer to the promise of running water.

    When they reached the shore of the rushing stream they stopped, some sat heavily while others dropped their packs and plunged into the rapid waters. What he had thought was a creek was almost a river, it spanned over a hundred feet. He doubted they could swim it without being swept away or dashed upon some of the rocky islands that lay among the cascading, frothing waves.

    On seeing the insurmountable obstacle, Fritz despaired. Only for a moment though as he took control of his pessimism and turned his mind to solving the problem. If they had the time they could build a raft or some kind of bridge across. They had no such luxury. Any leeway they had bought with the patches of caltrops they had dropped or the distance they may have gained from their relentless march, wouldn''t help.

    Fritz turned and searched the canopy for the tallest tree nearby, spotting the largest, at around sixty feet high, no more than a couple minutes walk away.

    "George, Cal, Bert. Big tree in the distance, cut it down with Sever. Haul it back here, we''ll use it as a bridge to that stone bank in the middle of the river."

    "What about the rest of the way?'' Cal asked breathlessly.

    "We''ll cross that bridge once we''ve crossed the first one," Fritz said, too tired to scold the questioning. "Go. The quicker we''re across the quicker we can rest."

    "And what will you be doing while we do all the hard stuff?" Cal asked sourly.

    "Resting, and keeping an eye out for the bloody raider," Fritz said through gritted teeth, his anger rising. Once they were safe Cal would be getting an earful, maybe of words, but the way he was carrying on, more likely steel.

    Cal grumbled, but when Bert held out a hand he took it, lifting him to his feet and following the brawler into the jungle. George staggered up, joining the two, tired but eager to test his new sword.

    "What do we do?" Rosie asked cradling her side, her hand held to her wound.

    "Just keep an eye out, I don''t feel like he''s near us. But I could be wrong. Whatever stealth Powers he has counter my own Sense Abilities," Fritz explained.

    "That how it is, is it?" She asked.

    "Yes. As a Scout, he outclasses me, which is to be expected with his higher level. Though that doesn''t mean he can''t be beaten, he can be hurt as easily as I can. If he doesn''t have another defensive Ability, if he relies on evasion like I do," Fritz said.

    "A lot of ifs," Lauren observed wearily.

    "Well, we have to work with what we know. I was able to cut him and Cal''s Treasure was able to tie him up, so he likely doesn''t have much more to show us," he replied. "Now, give me a moment to think."

    Fritz knew he should stay alert, and should keep his eyes out for the raider. But he felt he had to, just for a moment, check the offerings that burned coldly in his centre.

    He dove into his Sanctum, appearing in his pavilion, right by the brazier of eldritch flame. It burned dimmer than usual, like it had lost some of its energy. Or perhaps, since it was merely a memory, he was already beginning to forget its terrible touch and warping weirdness. Maybe that was for the best, he didn''t want to be offered another false choice like he had before.

    Still, it made him worry, he didn''t want it to go out completely, not after all the pain he had paid for it. He willed it to be less diffuse, to pull in on itself some more. It twisted and disobeyed, as he knew it would, so instead he focused on the brass brazier. It groaned under his will and shrank slightly, forcing the fire into smaller confines. The eldritch flame did not like this. It roiled and reached for him, furious grasping for anything it could catch and alight upon. He could almost hear it shrieking with searing rage as its blue-green burned brighter.

    Fritz stepped back, easily avoiding it. He shook his head, he wasn''t here for the flame and could deal with it later. Even if it was grimly satisfying to torment the fire that had hurt him so, it was nothing but a petty diversion. One he couldn''t afford.

    Distraction always seemed to press on him and threatened to pull him away, especially when stressed, as he was now. He wondered if it was his lack of Focus, but being honest, he had always been somewhat distractible. As likely to read a book as to climb a tree, even when he had been tasked with neither.

    The offerings appeared before him, silvery glyphs humming subtly with their Power. He hoped dearly for something defensive or offensive. Something, anything, to tip a fight with Vaa''gur in his favour.

    ---------

    Passive Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Poison Sense

    Watch the wine glass, refuse the food. Could be poisoned, best be shrewd.

    Increases your aptitude in detecting poison and venom to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have been exposed to venom.

    You have mitigated the effects of venom.

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Ability (Trap Sense, Danger Sense).

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Trait (Door Sense).

    ---

    Quieted Steps

    Feet can slap, hooves must clop, boots will crunch, I do not.

    Decreases the amount of sound your steps produce to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Shadow, Sound.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have slain a foe without being seen.

    You have sprung an ambush while hidden.

    You attempted to be stealthy and were successful more often than not.

    Influenced by Technique ''The Observations''.

    Influenced by Shadow Aligned Ability (Gloom Strike).

    Influenced by Shadow Aligned Trait (Cloak of Dusk).

    ---

    Treasure Sense

    Is it pretty? Is it shiny? Is it made of jewels and gold?

    I can see it, I can touch it, it is mine to take and hold!

    Increases your aptitude in detecting objects of value and Treasure Chests to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Mind, Sense.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have discovered and acquired one Treasure Chest and aided in the recovery of one other.

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Ability (Trap Sense, Danger Sense).

    Influenced by Sense Aligned Trait (Door Sense).

    ---

    ---------

    "Spire''s spite. What am I to do?"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 31

    The offerings, while useful at any other time, did nothing but flare frustration in his chest while his Sanctum''s stormy sky thundered. Annoyed, he fixed his attention instead to his six Attributes left to align. Following through with his previous plan, he brought both his Focus and Dusksong to twelve. Knowing he needed more magical reserves and recovery, that and the Focus to help him reign in his Senses.

    He felt the changes wrought to his willow, and himself, as he had before. A subtle shifting of the light and shadows strewn across his Sanctum, somehow both brighter and darker then they had been before. Dusksong''s slinking power crept over and around his chest, and trilled in triumph as its cruel, cheerful chorus crawled over his mortal form.

    Before he could consider the odd, repugnant feeling, a sudden clarity grasped him. It was like being plunged in numbing cold water or like the world had been spinning and finally it had slowed and stopped, giving him a chance to sort through the myriad sensations from which he was under constant assault. Although the irrelevant sounds, sights and impressions were still assailing him, he could far more easily sort them or ignore them completely. He felt he had definitely made the right choice as far as Focus went, the easing of the constant pressure of sensations was a Godsend.

    With a relieved sigh, and without a clear choice of Ability, he returned to the real world. He had been gone too long, this had meant to be a short look not a long contemplation.

    His return greeted him with the roaring of the river and the chirping of the small brightly coloured birds as they flittered through the jungle''s red and gold canopy. Searching for his team, he found Lauren was sitting next to Rosie by the bank, both filling their waterskins while they rested, their bare feet splashing in the fast waters. For a moment he revelled in the peace and new clarity that Focus allowed him, soaking in the sights and sounds.

    Relaxing. Just for a moment.

    In the distance he heard the shriek of George''s Sever and the creaking of a falling tree. He watched as the tips of tall branches rustled, tipped and fell, then snapped and broke. The ground shuddered as the trunk struck the ground. Fritz lowered his eyes back to the dense jungle, thinking over the choices that were laid out for him in his Sanctum while also keeping an eye out for the raider.

    Poison Sense, Treasure Sense and Quieted Steps. The latter of the two he had been offered before while the former was new, if similar, to his other Sense Abilities. Of the three, Quieted Steps and Poison Sense were the most useful in this situation. Though he doubted how much use they''d actually be against the raider, with his keen senses, Awareness and stealth Abilities that thwarted Fritz''s own Powers.

    Still, he should go through the offerings. Even if, in his chest, he felt that he would have to take a terrible risk rather than pick one of the present choices. His hand absently went to a pouch on his belt as he considered the first of the offerings.

    Poison Sense could be useful, especially when foraging for food in a Spire, or attending a dinner with nobles. He chuckled, that couldn''t happen, that life was torn away and could never be returned. Not as he was.

    If he understood the Ability, it could also be used to detect venomous monsters or thugs with poisoned blades before they could strike, which was a far more pressing concern. It would have been, or should have been, perfect against Vaa''gur and his toxic attacks. Normally, hunted as he was by a poison wielder, he would have picked it in a moment. But seeing as his other Abilities, like Danger Sense, had been shrouded or suppressed by the raider, Fritz doubted its suitability in this dire situation.

    Then he thought on Quieted Steps. More stealth could hardly be a bad thing, however, his boots already had a similar set of properties. That and his Grace had been aiding his movements, making his footfalls smooth and near silent. Whatever benefits this Ability might confer he felt they were only marginal. And while a small advantage can mean the difference between life and death Fritz failed to see how this could help him survive his current foe.

    The next was Treasure Sense. There wasn''t much to assess here that he hadn''t already contemplated before. Though it occurred to him now that it might also help alert him to Treasure-wielding assassins trying to ambush him. If it worked that way. But, again, if he couldn''t feel the raider''s presence with his Senses it would be of little use. Sure, it was best in the long run but his major concern at the moment was his life and the lives of his team, even Cal.

    Fritz cursed the Mer Spire and its weak offerings. Just like the previous choices they weren''t enough. Nowhere near enough to keep him safe. A wave of dread and anxiety washed over him, pulling and swirling deep in his gut as he considered his very last option. He slipped his hand into the pouch, rested his hand against the gnarled surface of the Aberrant Seed. There was a shadowy, insidious energy within, one that called to him, whispering both vile threats and eager entreaties.

    His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Cal, George and Bert dragging the great tree. They heaved and hauled, panted and grunted, not caring about all the noise they made and scattering the birds in the canopy.

    If Vaa''gur didn''t know where they were from the felling of the tree then he would definitely know now. There was nothing to be done about that, they needed to get across. Staying on this side, waiting to be picked off, was a death sentence.

    Fritz went to join them, glad to put off his choice. He lent his own meagre strength to the efforts, and soon the trunk was on the shore. Fritz marvelled at his friends'' and fellows'' strength. Or more likely Momentum, as the tree was almost as broad as his shoulders and yet they were still able to move the enormous weight.

    "Rest, we''ll need to push it across at an angle, and all at once so it isn''t swept away," Fritz commanded.

    They agreed with exhausted waves, and plunged into the river, cooling themselves and drinking deeply. Impatience gnawed at Fritz, he wanted to be over this obstacle, hidden in the jungle on the other side, safe again.

    He shuffled, putting his weight on one foot then the other as he watched the gently swirling leaves. He knew he could use this time to select his next Passive but he couldn''t bring himself to choose any of the options laid out. The Abilities all seemed too lacking for what they, for what he, needed. And if he were to use the Hounds Seed, refined or no, then he wanted to warn Bert first in case something truly terrible happened.

    He knew what Powers you would receive from an unrefined seed would be largely random, dependant on the beast you took it from, a shadow or an imitation of its own Powers. It could even be completely useless, outright detrimental or potentially deadly. Some could even mutate you, change your form in unpredictable and often crippling ways. What if he gained sharper fangs, or became four-legged? Or, Spires forbid, grew a tail. Though perhaps a booming howl, or steely fur, like the beast had, wouldn''t go amiss. He wouldn''t even begrudge another coating of moonsilver to his bones.

    He shook his head.

    Gods, what am I thinking? Am I just going to ignore the tales of those who tried to do the same? And died horribly warped and screaming, begging for release. Am I actually going to risk using an Aberrant Seed while being stalked in the middle of a jungle? Of all the terrible ideas you had this would have to be the worst, Fritz.

    He needed advice before he went through with his plan, his last resort, but now was not the time for that. Now was the time to get this log bridge put into place.

    Six minutes, six minutes too long it seemed, but they leveraged the tree''s end onto the rock island. With grumbles more than cheers, they resignedly crossed the rough bark of the bridge. Although the water made the footing treacherous, it was something everyone in Rain City was used to and none fell. Only George teetered near the end, but with a leap, he landed next to the team gathered on the slippery stone.

    Without much need for orders, they immediately pulled the trunk further onto the island until it could bridge to the other side of the river. It took an immense effort and was only possible due to all the Abilities and Attributes the team possessed, but eventually, they had it set and ready to be crossed.

    "Before we go, wash a bit with this," Fritz said, handing out the no-scent soap he had grabbed from Bert earlier before they crossed the first time.

    Rosie seemed to want to ask a question and Lauren looked to scold him. But before they did he interrupted them, "Use it over your clothes. It''ll wipe out any scents, lessening the chance he can track us by smell."

    "Do you think that''s how he''s doing it? I mean how is this even possible?" Cal asked, taking the proffered soap with the rest.

    "I don''t know about how, but he is. As for how it''s possible: well, there are as many Abilities as there are drops of rain, there could be many that let you track people. Take Rosie''s pick for example: its Glow Strike leaves a mark of some sort," Fritz theorised.

    "What about the Well rooms? We''ve seen no one else so how''d he get in the same ones as us?" He argued.

    "I have no idea, all I know is that he has, and that you can encounter others sometimes. Though it''s not that common, apart from the sixth Well, and it is advised that teams not stick around in Wells. It''s a precaution of sorts," Fritz explained, cleaning himself as thoroughly as possible with the little time and soap they had.

    "A precaution?" Lauren asked.

    "In case another team Climbs up and robs you," Bert pointed out, lathering his arms, hissing a little when he rubbed the venom-stained cuts along them.

    "Or worse," Cal added darkly.

    "They wouldn''t," Lauren protested. "Only monsters like the Krakosi would do something so heinous."

    "Unfortunately, they would. It is against the law, of course, but there''s no guards in the Well rooms and no way to see what''s going on in a Floor from the outside. Might as well be the gutters for all the protection the guard are in here," Fritz said bitterly. "People die in Spires. Sometimes it''s the monsters and sometimes it''s Climbers settling grudges or satiating their greed. It''s nothing new."

    "I read the Spire punishes you for it. Ejects you if you intend harm on another Climber," Lauren stated as she applied soap to her lovely neck.

    "Only on the sixth Floor or the Precipice is what I read. And that matches our experience, no?" Fritz said. "What with that terrible beast-of-a-man hunting us. Although I heard harming others in a Well room does call down the Spire''s spite. Which is likely the reason we''ve been able to get this far without being caught... again."

    "So that''s why we''re rushing to the sixth?" Rosie asked, washing off the last of the suds on her legs.

    "Yes," Fritz said, letting hope ring in his voice. "We''ll be safe there."

    "Then let''s go," Rosie proclaimed, clambering onto the long log first despite being the clumsiest of the lot. She winced, put a hand to where she had been wounded by the raider''s dagger, and slipped straight into Bert''s arms.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    "You okay? You don''t look good," Bert said.

    "Just a little sick and dizzy. No worse than eating a squid pie that''s gone bad," she said, wiping her sweaty brow that was a shade too pale. "Think the knife got me worse than I thought. I''ll be right once we heal at the Well."

    "I''ll carry you across, can''t have you falling in the river," Bert offered which she gratefully accepted. "We''ll be at the Well in no time."

    Fritz grimaced, he had forgotten to tell his team that this floor was far too vast to cover quickly, that once they were across and had found somewhere to hide they would have to consider a different strategy. Still, that was a conversation for later.

    George went first over the bridge, then Lauren followed after taking it slower and steadier. Cal was behind them and then it was Fritz and lastly Bert carrying a sickly Rosie. Though the log rocked when slapped by any of the larger infrequent waves, none of the team tumbled.

    Once they were all across and on the bank, they dislodged the bridge, letting the log be pushed by the rushing water and roll into the river, swept away within moments.

    "Well... done..." Fritz panted, turning to his team then running towards the safety of the jungle''s dense undergrowth, waving for them to follow. "Get out of the open!"

    In a scramble they joined him, and he led them through the hanging vines and lush ferns, careful to not leave too much of a trail. He supposed it wouldn''t matter much, Vaa''gur likely had the skills to track their passage, though that didn''t mean they had to make it easy for him.

    They trekked through the rough terrain, gone was the reprieve of the river''s cooling waters and they felt again the stifling heat of the jungle. Rosie walked as far as she could, but would often stagger. After a third fall, Cal had to carry her rest of the way. While he looked angry at the burden it was apparent to all that he was just afraid for her safety. Some one would have to take another look at her wound once they had found a place to rest, once they had time.

    Fritz was tempted to climb a tree, to get a lay of the land from the high ground it would provide, but decided against it. He didn''t trust the look of the bright blue and green songbirds, especially the small beaks and talons that gleamed with a subtle sharpness. He was sure their pretty plumage and sweet songs were some sort of deception, and that if he were to encroach on their territory, high up in the canopy, they would swarm him like a nest of starving rats.

    He could see it in their evil, beady, black eyes. Or maybe he was paranoid, which made sense considering the last bird he encountered left him with a pale scar on the back of his hand. Still, this wasn''t the time to test it, he would let his gut feeling guide him for now, avoiding the risk entirely. Rather than take the high ground, Fritz instead searched the dirt, looking for stone and rock that might lead him to a cave, preferably one with only one entrance to watch.

    What he discovered, after following up a rocky creek, was better than he had dared to hope. A tall, thin waterfall shrouded in misting spray and a cave crowded with vines just behind.

    Fritz grinned. "Would you look at that! The Spires smile on us for once," he laughed pointing.

    "A cave!" Rosie cried.

    "A cave?" Lauren groaned. "I thought you''d found the Stairway."

    "Unfortunately, I think we have stumbled into a survival Floor," Fritz said.

    His assertion elicited a chorus of grumbling and grousing, but he didn''t listen to the complaining. Instead, he smiled blandly at them and walked towards the cave''s covered mouth.

    "Make sure there''s no bear this time," Bert joked.

    Fritz passed under the curtain of cool water, and slipped between the hanging vines, straining his ears for the sound of anything moving, and taking in the damp, verdant air. Nothing alerted his Awareness, nothing to hint at any dangers dwelling within. On the contrary, if anything, the smooth grey stone gave off the feeling of a hidden sanctuary. A place of peace and respite, free of predators and pains. With a sigh of deep relief, Fritz stuck a hand through the waterfall and motioned his team to join him.

    Whatever the group''s misgivings it seemed that they could also tell that this cave was safe, or at least safe enough for now. Still, unwilling to take the refuge''s apparent security for granted, Fritz set off and explored the depths once the team were situated and seated by the entrance.

    It only took him three minutes to find himself at a dead end, with no further exits and no bony remains to worry about. He returned swiftly and gave the group the good news.

    "Thank the Gods," Cal said.

    "Don''t thank them, thank me," Fritz said offhandedly, trying for a bit of levity after their hard march.

    "Do we also have you to thank for the raider?" Cal spat back vehemently.

    "No. I would rather blame the raider himself," Fritz said scathingly.

    "Or The Commands," Lauren added wearily.

    "Yes, but he''s chasing you, not us. And you''re the reason we''re all here," Cal argued.

    "Shut up, Cal," George nearly growled. "You knew it was dangerous when you agreed to Climb. Did you really expect it to be easy? That the Spires, that claim hundreds of Climbers a year, you''d be spared any of that same peril?"

    "I didn''t know we was going to be stalked by a bloody Krakosi raider," Cal retorted turning his oft-too-present scowl on the armoured man. "If I knew-"

    "There it is: If you knew. How could you when I myself did not? How could one possibly know what the future holds? I''m no oracle or sage, but I know this much: what you''ve gained here was well worth the risk of Climbing," Fritz interjected. His repressed frustration boiled over and he continued in a vicious tone. "In fact, you should be grateful. Especially seeing as I plucked you from the gutters, from your pathetic gang and an early death at the end of some thug''s knife. From a drowned future in a filthy ally."

    "That''s-" Cal began, his face reddening and a drumming anger beat from within his chest. "You''re wrong! I had no choice! We''re going to die! You''ve doomed us all!"

    The accusation stoked Fritz''s own fury, and his Dusksong sang with discordant indignation. How many times had he saved the ungrateful prick, how many times had he born his insults without reprisal? Cal didn''t fear him, and that would end here. One way or another. His hand went to his dagger''s hilt.

    "I gave you a choice, in a world that wouldn''t. And you blame me? Well here''s another choice: render thy grudge silent and end thy hate, or persevere in mean mind and seal thy fate."

    The words that had been composing in his chest for some time had been spoken, and echoed dreadfully off the stone walls. Booming, baleful and beautiful. A dark silence fell and he felt the regard of the others change subtly. They had thought him harmless, ever patient, and one who could be trifled with without concern. Another ending then. The dusk called.

    Cal paled, but Fritz could see that stubborn seed of pride that wouldn''t let him back down begin to sprout. His hand went to his shortsword, which jostled his sister causing her to cough and groan, clutching her side.

    "Cal, stop," she whined weakly. "He''s been good to us. Leave it be."

    He looked at her worriedly, glancing at where she had been stabbed. Again, that resentment was roused.

    "He just threatened to kill me. And you want me to stop?" He whispered his tone one of hurt as if she''d betrayed him.

    "I do. You''re being an arsehole," she said, taking in slow breaths. "You can''t be mad at him for things going bad."

    "It''s his fault you''re hurt, his fault you''re sick," He growled, then turning on Fritz shouted, "Rosie took a dagger meant for you! She nearly died, and you never even said thank you!"

    "That''s what teams do," Fritz stated coldly. "They sacrifice and survive. Together."

    "And its fine if Rosie makes the sacrifice is it!?" Cal yelled. "Fine to use us as ignorant shields and bait."

    "I chose to help, and I would do it again Cal. Fritz would do the same for us. Don''t you see that?" Rosie asked bluntly. "Get your head out your arse and stop being a grouch."

    The coarse and candid reprimand seemed to surprise Cal, and he searched the glares of those around him.

    "What of the rest of you? You think it''s fine for him to threaten my life?" He shouted.

    "Honestly, yes," Lauren admitted haughtily. "Right now, your irrational anger is making me want to set you aflame myself."

    "Quiet down, cool down and think about where we are and why we are here Cal," George said, smoothing over Lauren''s burning admonishment.

    After hearing the team''s opinions, Cal soon had his smouldering, grey-eyed gaze locked on Fritz''s own dimly-glowing purple-and-green one. Rosie''s lightly trembling hand grasped Cal wrist and she whispered a soft plea.

    "Don''t."

    His face fell and he reluctantly took his hand off his blade''s hilt then glared away muttering something about unfairness. Incensed by the man''s unrepentant demeanour, Fritz nearly drew his bone dagger and pounced forward to plunge it into Cal''s unprotected neck.

    "Fritz," Bert said, clasping his shoulder and shaking him from his mad thought. Fritz turned to his friend, and upon seeing the concern in his eyes felt guilt along with some small confusion at his sudden outburst and that deadly impulse. He quickly realised his issue: the tingling trilling of his faerie magic had been eagerly prodding him to punish the man for his disrespect.

    With a heavy sigh, Fritz let go of both his frustration and his dagger''s hilt. He pushed away the indignation and cradled his pricked pride. In only a few moments he felt his shoulders sag. He sat against the cool stone while he banished Dusksong''s influence and cleared his mind.

    He had to be more wary. Fritz had thought, because he had Aligned his Focus, that the increase to Dusksong would not effect him much. He had been mistaken. Fritz knew now that it had been goading him to react as he had. Though he didn''t chalk all his aggravation up to the shifting magic''s influence, that festering fury had been his as well not just a false feeling.

    Eventually, he would get used to it, as Lauren had said. But right now, he felt bone tired, and as wrung out as a skulg squeezed for its wax. In the damp quiet and lulled by the splashing of the waterfall he slipped into a daze, then a doze.

    Fritz came to when the smell of sweet, cooking crab graced his senses.

    Cal handed him a skewer of meat, begrudgingly and obviously still too embarrassed to properly apologise. Fritz took the gesture for what it was, a peace offering and show of cooperation. He took the crab-kabob and nodded an acceptance. He wasn''t satisfied, and it seemed neither was Cal, but they could set aside their fight for now. Until they were out of this peril.

    "What''s the plan?" Lauren asked after they had finished their, somewhat muted, meal.

    "We rest up here, then we''ll have to set up an ambush," Fritz said.

    "Ambush? I thought we were running," Bert said.

    "I don''t think we''ll outrun him with the distance we have to go. He can move surprisingly fast, even so far as to beat us to the Well on the fifth floor," Fritz espoused.

    "Won''t he just do that again?" Cal asked in a measured tone.

    "Next floor is the Sixth, no point," Lauren supplied.

    "Then we should still run," George said.

    "If we''re going to be caught I''d rather be caught when we''re rested and prepared rather than exhausted and on the run," Fritz said.

    George nodded at the point.

    "What if he spots our ambush?" Lauren asked.

    "He likely will, and we''ll fight all the same. Unfortunately I don''t think we have much choice. Though controlling where the inevitable battle takes place can be a great boon," Fritz stated, recalling the last bit from ''The Observations''.

    A hush fell over the cave.

    "A vote then," Fritz said. "A real one this time," he added with a sly smirk, which was returned with strained smiles.

    "For running?" No hands went up.

    "For an ambush?" All hands went up, but none as fast as Bert''s.

    "Done. I''ll scout a place in half an hour. If the bastard doesn''t stumble upon us sooner," Fritz said.

    "I''m sure it''ll take him a while to cross that river without a bridge," Bert said hopefully.

    There were muttered agreements, but none had the courage to meet Fritz''s eye or even look in his direction. His rant may have scared them more than he expected. A mistake, and one that sent another ripple of guilt through him. Bert beckoned to his friend and led Fritz away to the back of the cave so they could talk in private.

    "End thy hate or seal thy fate? What in the Abyss was that about?" Bert said seriously.

    "Sorry, I wasn''t myself," Fritz sighed.

    "Too much yourself, more like," Bert said. "Plucked from the gutters? Didn''t I do the same to you?" He added with a grin.

    "His constant griping was grating on my good will," Fritz admitted. "I thought I should teach him a lesson, make him respect the blades edge. And he who holds it."

    "Hmm," Bert hummed. "Doesn''t suit you, I''m afraid."

    "What?"

    "This whole scary faerie thing you''re performing," Bert said. "It''s well enough to terrify the rabble. But for the team, for me, it''s not needed."

    "You''re right. This whole bloody Climb has been a disaster since that raider turned up. I hate being hunted," Fritz complained. "Is it true that I never thanked Rosie?"

    "It is, but it''s not like we had the time for pleasantries," Bert reminded him.

    "I should''ve taken the time," Fritz said. "I will take the time, before we set up the ambush."

    Bert nodded and grinned at him, seemingly pleased with Fritz. Though that would always be the case, Bert would have his back no matter what, even if he was wrong, and he should remember that and strive to be worthy of that loyalty.

    They moved onto the subject of Fritz''s other frustrations, mainly his meagre choice of Abilities.

    "Are you sure Poison Sense won''t work?" Bert asked after Fritz had given him the gist of his offerings.

    "Not entirely. Though so far he''s been shrouded from my senses, so I can''t help but worry," Fritz said.

    Bert rubbed at an imaginary beard and hummed. "Hmm. And Treasure Sense is off the table?"

    "Need something to help in the fight," Fritz stated. "Any edge will do. Though this is a risk and it would be a disservice to not warn you."

    "A disservice? It would be a bloody stab in the back, Fritz," Bert said frowning. "How much of a risk? Will it kill you?"

    "I heard it can, or it can mutate you or send you mad," Fritz admitted, sure Bert would warn him off using the Aberrant Seed.

    Bert grinned. "No risk on that last one. Do it, use the Seed," he agreed, slapping Fritz on the back. "I''m sure your horrible, disfiguring mutation won''t be too bad. And you''ll get used to screams and cries of children when they see you."

    Fritz scowled at the man, but was heartened by his friend''s support. It steeled him further to go through with the mad plan.

    "In all seriousness," Bert said, his grin falling away. "Don''t die."

    "You know me. I would never die," Fritz said assuredly.

    Bert smiled at that, knowing it for the baseless bravado it was, and brought him into a brotherly hug with all the requisite too-hard back slapping that entailed. Then he left to distract the team while Fritz sunk into his rainy Sanctum with the Hound''s Seed clasped tight in his hand.

    He stared at the dark malshaped orb. It was different here in his centre. Unreadable black, silver and red glyphs roiled off its surface like smoke, incomprehensible and insidious. It whispered with babbling madness. Fear twisted in Fritz''s gut and it felt like his Sanctum was trying to warn him, or to reject the odious object outright. It was a black spot in his mind, dripping thick, stringy tar that sought to subvert him.

    With a shudder and a gulp, he pushed forward and he chose.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 32

    Pain. Three, no, five kinds of pain. Black, silver, white, dark-green, blue-green. They swirled in Fritz''s mind like solid plumes of smoke, gnawing at him like fanged worms. He screamed and bit down on the leather strip in his mouth. He fought the infectious energies as they tried to wrap him in terrible tendrils. With force of will he held them an inch, or was it a mile, away from his soul.

    The agony threatened to split his mind and break his hold, his Focus steadied his thoughts and steeled his resolve. He was not helpless, this was his Sanctum, and his was the storm that raged overhead. Fritz pushed back the pain, knowing that if he let the dark energies run rampant he would be twisted and changed, perhaps even killed, within moments. It was the same as the Eldritch flame, and without the tempering he received from that calamitous error he would have panicked and succumbed to the Aberrant Seed''s insidious intent in an instant.

    With an enormous effort, levering the entirety of his Control, Focus and will, he set his Awareness and Perception to sorting the strands of coloured Power. He first seized the searing blue-green, felt its terrible, warping heat and fed it to his own maleficent fire trapped within his brass brazier. The flame ate it greedily, cackling and burning brighter as the flickering line of light was consumed.

    To Fritz''s dread, the imprisoned fire chose this moment to riot again, to attempt to immolate his Sanctum as it almost had before. It was within his expectations, he knew the thing was merely biding its time but he had hoped it wouldn''t choose to strike now. He was reminded that hoping was a fool''s game, action was what mattered in the moment.

    Fritz grabbed the silver pain next, knowing it to be aligned to metal from the cold ringing of its cutting cadence. Brass was a base metal, not enough to contain the flame forever, but what of this energy that tasted of moonsilver?

    He pitted his mind against the brazier''s being, it belonged to him so it should yield, and after a heartbeat of terrible strain, it did. While it submitted, he poured the line of silver power into it, and the white pain of Purity flowed with it. Entwined, they cried, like the ringing of bells, as they slipped into the metal. The brazier bent and boiled beneath the surface, the brass dripping away to reveal newly polished moonsilver that held the flame fast in its eerie, flailing fury.

    It shrieked and roiled in its renewed prison, but Fritz couldn''t spare it a thought, or even a triumphant smirk. Not now, not with the Seed still eating away at him, trying to make his choice for him.

    Tired and trembling, but with still two pains to go, Fritz turned his attention back to the Aberrant Seed. Only to find the tendrils of black seeping into his arms, numbing him, draining him of his strength while the dark-green swept around him, snapping and jagged, stalking him like a beast. It was a small reprieve that the black was so slow and the green seemed content to hunt him. Now that he wasn''t being assaulted by all five alignments he took some moments to search the energies for recognisable glyphs.

    He caught them on the sides of his vision and at the edge of his comprehension, names or translations of what the Powers meant to convey to their hosts. Inaccurate, minimal and constrained by the magic''s incompatibility with human flesh. He pushed that impression out of his mind and searched the words rippling before him.

    In the wisping glyphs of green he saw the names of Abilities: Jagged Fangs, Bounding Legs, Razored Claws, Beast''s Strength, Pack leader, Pack Lord, Nightmare Fur.

    Useless or close to useless for him, he disregarded the obviously Primal aligned Abilities, and bent his search to the black glyphs next, praying for something better. Before he could focus his attention the Primal energies headed towards him, leaping toward his chest. He dodged, a staggering step, but enough to avoid the green pain''s fangs.

    Get rid of the Primal then sort through the Shadow, he told himself as he trembled from the exhaustion.

    The green power was elusive and wily, but it was still a beast and could be baited. He feigned weakness, falling to a knee. It pounced, straight into the waiting clutches of his will. He gripped it tightly, and with invisible hands of intent, threw it into his Eldritch Flame. The fire raged, seethed, and seared the foreign energies, incinerating them with glee and leaving nothing behind.

    Panting now, Fritz examined the last of the pains. The black pain, numbing and cold. Darkness and shadow. He searched the glyphs as he had before, these were easier to read and felt far more welcoming, or maybe that was his imagination. Shadow Meld, Gloom Strike, Consume Light, Howl of Terror, Quieted Steps, Subtle Presence, Bleak Aura, Shadow Shift, Black Bite, Shades Bloom, Shadow bolt.

    As he read, Fritz''s vision darkened as his heat slowed and skipped a beat. The shadows burrowed deeper. Creeping beneath his skin like new, icy veins, which was good, because one of the many Abilities within the shifting black would be useful for him. He sought for the Ability he wanted, he tore at the dark tendrils discarding the unwanted and unwelcome adding them to the flames.

    He steadily grew weaker, the world darker and duller, he could barely feel a thing and he was moving so slow. His hands, his mind, everything was sluggish. Then he seized the black thread he desired and claimed it. As he did, the power wriggled in his grasp and the rest of the smoky strands were consumed by it, pulled in by some inviolable force. Then, having chosen, it coiled around his chest and crawled into his Sanctum.

    It was agony. Cold and draining, though it was over in a moment. His body stopped trembling and numbness fled. He felt the new power take root and become his. He smiled as he saw the newly formed silvery glyphs and his Sanctum darkened all around him. He rejoiced at his wonderful new Passive. He tried to cry out his triumph but his vision went black and his mind became muddled, frayed at the shadowy edges.

    He could hear Bert''s worried voice calling to him.

    "I''m sorry. I lied," Fritz mumbled, then he died.

    ---

    Bert checked for his reckless, idiot friend''s heartbeat, placing his fingers to his throat, and as if with sense other than touch, felt the pumping of blood in Fritz''s veins.

    He grumbled. The dumb bastard was fine, he had just passed out. He searched Fritz''s sprawled form for any changes, finding the Seed had turned to dark dust and his fingertips were stained black. Apart from that, there were no other obvious changes. The lucky fool must have succeeded.

    "What was that noise? I thought I heard a muffled scream?" Lauren said, approaching with the lantern.

    "Scream?" Bert asked, playing dumb.

    "Scream," she reiterated frowning, not taking the bait.

    "Oh, that," Bert hedged. "Fritz yelled, then passed out... from the stress of the argument. He''s far more sensitive than he lets on you know. And being Captain is a terrible pressure."

    Lauren looked at him sceptically. Bert grinned, motioning to the gently breathing fool beside him.

    "Come, look for yourself. Completely overwrought, he is. Passed out from the strain."

    Lauren stepped closer, shining a beam of light on Fritz. He moaned.

    "Before, with the fight," Lauren said with trepidation. "Do you think he would''ve really killed Cal?"

    "Not a chance," Bert lied.

    She stared at him a while longer and he amended his statement and dropped his grin. "Maybe, but not likely. The raider is bringing out the worst in him. The worst in all of us."

    She nodded and bit her bottom lip in thought. It was very alluring. Bert flexed subtly, and upon seeing his powerful, sculpted muscles bulge and ripple, Lauren rolled her eyes.

    Too bad she has no appreciation for my mighty form. She''s beautiful. Ah! It''s too bad! Too bad indeed! But as they say: there''s plenty of fish in the barrel!

    Lauren continued, "He scared me, and I think he scared George too-"

    "I wasn''t afraid, just startled," George said, the armoured man having somehow approached without their noticing. "It was a sudden change."

    Bert sighed and rolled his shoulders. "It was building up, like a clogged gutter. You must know that we''ve been doing most of the heavy lifting. Me and Fritz could have cleared this Spire easily if we weren''t keeping you lot alive."

    There was the scratch of leather on stone and Bert could see Cal slinking in the dark of the cave, eavesdropping, his face a mask of contemplative contrition. The other two didn''t seem to notice him so Bert let him listen in, it might clear some things up for the idiot.

    "Is that so?" she asked.

    "Yes. Without breaking a sweat. This Spire is easy," Bert stated seriously.

    "You''d still need one more to ward off the spite," Lauren observed.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "But we didn''t need four," Bert countered. "Fritz saw you, and helped you."

    "And himself," George said.

    "And himself," Bert agreed, grinning again. "And me."

    "Mutual gain is the name of the game," Fritz groaned out as he sat and steadied himself.

    He was pale and tired, and without the self-satisfied smirk he usually wore, the dark shadows under his eyes cast his features in a wretched gloom. To the others he would have looked pallid and pitiable, a far cry from his usual charming, confident self. But to Bert, the sight was just nostalgic.

    "Whoa, you could be a poet with those kind of words, Fritz," Bert said.

    The comment slid right over Fritz''s rapidly reapplied smiling facade.

    "Do good, and good follows," he espoused.

    "How magnanimous," Lauren said sceptically.

    "Optimistic," George agreed.

    "You flatter me. Though I am merely what I am. Perfect," he professed.

    "You''re not perfect. Barely human. One step above a squid," Bert replied.

    "A squid? I''ve been promoted," Fritz smirked.

    "No! I take it back!" Bert cried.

    "Too late," Fritz smugly stated.

    "Enough! Be serious for a moment," Lauren demanded.

    Fritz looked to her and raised an eyebrow.

    "What?" He asked. "If you have something to say, say it. I''m listening."

    "You shouldn''t have threatened Cal. Even if he was out of line with his accusations," she said.

    Fritz shook his head sadly.

    "And you can? I remember someone else saying she''d set him on fire," Bert interjected.

    "That was- I didn''t mean it," Lauren said defensively.

    "No. We''ll not talk on this now. Once we''re safe at the sixth Well we can revisit this disagreement," Fritz said seriously. "For now we have an ambush to set up and I need you all to do your part. Give me some silence to consider the best approach."

    Lauren looked to argue, but upon seeing the cold, cruel glint his eyes seemed to think better of it. She shivered slightly. Bert knew that Fritz''s mind and malice were focused on the raider, but that terrible light in his eyes almost made him step back out of some instinctual fear.

    Fritz''s smile grew as he dwelt on his scheme. Wider and wider until after a minute of quiet contemplation he announced, "We''ll kill this bastard. I have a plan."

    ---

    Vaa''gur felt his fury flare through him as he came upon this last obstacle and he thrashed and slashed his dagger over the rushing river. Splashing and scattering the water with his outburst made him feel no better, no closer to calm.

    The hunt wasn''t going to plan, not at all, he''d thought that they''d be too weak to put up any fight, that he''d be able to stalk them at his leisure. But it was not the case. It was all going wrong. And worse if he gave up and left the Spire, Therima would know he''d failed. She always did. She''d scowl and spit, would tell the Captains back home that he was a pathetic hunter who couldn''t kill a team of fresh Rookies as a Journeyman.

    If that happened his dreams would be over in a heartbeat. He''d be mocked, they would jeer, and they would tell him to become a farmer or a stone hauler. They would ban him from the docks, and he''d never be allowed near the raiding ships again. Forced to till the stinking, bleak soil or tend the meskerane maggots as they shed their leathery skins. The fate of a slave, a weakling. Not of one worthy, like himself.

    He screamed at the birds behind him, their songs tinged with clear mocking scorn.

    It had all gone so wrong.

    First, it was his trembling venom not taking root in Bert and Fritz when he had pierced them with his arrows. A normal antidote shouldn''t have saved them, his Insidious Venom should have seen to that, having soaked into their flesh and reduced their resistance to poison while also extending the venom''s duration. They must have used some expensive cleansing potions to cure them.

    A waste of gold, since he would catch them. He''d marked them with his bittersteel dagger, and their cleansing potions would have a hard time purifying those wounds. He grinned imagining the pain they must be in already as its ruinous effects took hold. The weakness the sickness brought, the aches and pains, then the wounds burning and blistering. The hair loss and the rot of the entire body. Excruciating. Total suffering.

    But it would take time to set in, and he wanted to be there to see it. Idly he slipped the dagger back into its lead-lined sheath, the catch clicking and securing it tight.

    He seethed, remembering how he had caught them in the Well room, all healed and already fleeing into the next room. His own team and the movement restriction of his camouflage had slowed his ambush down. Then one of the spite shields had the idiocy to be burnt alive by the pretty woman, while he played with his prey.

    It had been fun at first, whittling the boy down, cutting his arms and seeing the terror grow in his eyes. Then, when he had Fritz''s soft neck in the palm of his hand, that cursed bone dagger had cut right into his arm. He should''ve seen it coming, but that despair had looked so real and wonderful.

    That bone-deep wound still bled. The bleeding had almost halted, but even now blood trickled and soaked the bandages. Though he had wrapped it with a poultice and had also taken a healing potion it never stopped leaking. He had little hope of it recovering while he was in this Spire as Minor Spire''s Wells did little to heal him at his level, and even then the two he had used had no effect on this cursed cut.

    He shook his head, the best way to get rid of a curse was to kill the curser, barring that he''d have to find a priest or healer to dispel it. Or maybe the Guide or Ceph Outpost might have something or someone willing to help, for a price.

    He had let Fritz and Bert go so he could tend to his wound, thinking it merely a deep cut and to be dealt with cautiously, lest it go bad or cripple his hand. But knowing what he knew now, he was certain he should''ve killed them right then and there.

    He sighed, the grueling nature of this hunt was beginning to weigh on him. With that hired Climber dying of his burns and Fritz escaping he had slaughtered the other hired man, if he wasn''t a shield against the spite he was just slowing him down. After that, he had followed quickly, snapped a Door Dowser and headed them off through the Trap floor. A lucky find for Fritz, Bert and his weakling crew.

    The Spire''s Spite had come down on him, it made him feel watched at all times. There would be moments where the world spun and he lost his sense of direction. All of his Primal Instinct Ability''s warnings were in whispers rather than shouts. The Ability was a fusion of Trap Sense and Beast Sense, allowing him to detect many dangers before they could harm him, with some other benefits besides. But now those sensations felt muted and dull, forcing him to rely on his baser senses of hearing, sight and smell.

    It was infuriating, but bearable, his Reflex, Agility and Grace saving him from the worst of the shrouded traps'' spikes, darts and barbs. Still, he took small injury after small injury even if he was able to find the real Stairway before Fritz could. Fighting in those cramped hallways and suffering under the Spire''s Spite wasn''t a risk he had been willing to take, not when he could wait for them in the Well. And he had after he had spooked them a little by flushing them out of the secret passage.

    Couldn''t have them sit around on the Floor while he slowly bled out and the shadows flickered strangely, teasing him with threats that weren''t there. Another trick of the Spite, and one that he knew would only grow increasingly more prevalent the longer he stayed.

    When he had caught them again, with a bottle of Serpenal Soporifica suffusing the air, they had been his to do with what he will. But again, to his fury, he had been thwarted. This time by a stupid flail of binding and Bert''s new Ability. That and a sudden fatigue that had struck him, a result of rushing through the trap Floor no doubt. He had almost had Fritz too, before that ugly woman had gotten in the way. But that had been a good hit, the dagger sliding right between her foul scales. It was a deadly wound, triply so for being one inflicted by bittersteel.

    But again they escaped, and it rankled that he hadn''t let them go this time, as he had the first. They had escaped using unfair tricks. This time though, when he got to them, there would be no playing around. Quick and close.

    He winced, his feet aching from small wounds he had taken. Caltrops left in his prey''s wake had pierced his sturdy boots as he pursued them with as much speed as he could. They had been slathered in some foul substance that his own remedies seemed useless to stop. Luckily, the venom was dry and had lost a lot of its potency otherwise he might be dead already. As it was, he bore the dull pain, letting it stoke the fires of his fury.

    That led him to his current predicament, standing on the river''s edge and searching for a way to cross the rapid waters. He''d already attempted to climb a tree, to use its high purchase to look for a ford, bridge or fallen tree as was usually the case on such Floors. But those bastard birds had set on him like a hive of hornets. They sliced and pecked at him with deceptively sharp talons and beaks, scoring him with hundreds of tiny cuts and gouges. Forcing him to cover his face and fall, lest they slash apart his eyeballs in their incessant attempt to to defend their nests and the gleaming blue eggs within.

    The cursed things wouldn''t follow him all the way down, though he did crush a few of the birds beneath him. He had also sprained his hip on his heavy landing, causing him to grunt with pain as he paced the river''s edge. He considered taking his last healing potion. Therima would tear him to pieces if he did, or worse, banish him from her team, leaving him stranded in this miserable city of weaklings.

    Vaa''gur panted and sweat as he stood, the air here was humid and hot, he usually didn''t notice such trivialities but he wasn''t in the best condition. Not anymore. Even with his Endurance and his many resistance and recovery remedies, his weariness grew by the hour. It was like he had small stones tied to all his limbs. He cursed this hunt and his elusive prey.

    He blamed Fritz and Bert for his trouble, if they hadn''t goaded him at their first meeting it wouldn''t be like this. If it wasn''t for their trespass he wouldn''t be here and riddled with so many annoying aches. He''d be drinking and whoring, and bored. But that would be far better than the burning fury he felt stuck inside him, with no way to be let out. Those stupid, ignorant wretches, he''d have their skins by the end of the day. He would hang their hides on his walls.

    With no more delay, he slathered on some gill grease and trusted in his Strength to swim across. It was the Krakosi way, after all: personal power above all. He dove into the cool water and swam, the river dashing him painfully on stones, hidden logs and eventually onto the other shore. His body screamed all over like he''d taken a beating, which he had, but now he was across. He stood and drank a stamina potion, a precious thing but something he could replace with his own Serpenal Brewing, unlike the healing potions.

    Vaa''gur searched the bank for signs of his quarry''s passing and found little. He could still feel them through his Boundless Mark. Even though they had hidden their tracks well enough and their scent stopped somewhere in the river, he could still follow them. As long as they didn''t split up; he had only marked Fritz and Bert.

    His prey weren''t far, but weren''t close either so it would be an hour or two of walking, maybe more before he caught up. He glanced down at his bandaged forearm and tried to clench his fist, finding it weak and sluggish. Vaa''gur growled and felt rage immolate him from within.

    He pushed into the red and gold underbrush and ran down his prey. When he found Fritz it wouldn''t be a clean kill with an arrow, no, he wanted to drive his dagger into the weakling''s heart and see the pain and terror in his infuriating eyes. He deserved it.

    Vaa''gur licked his lips.

    "I''ll get you. Just you wait."

    ---

    "Stay in your places until I lead him past you," Fritz reminded the team as they moved to their assigned positions.

    "We know," Lauren sighed.

    "Are you sure we''ll be able to hurt a Journeyman Climber?" Cal asked, more out of fear than actual challenge.

    "Yes. He may be twice as strong and fast as us, maybe even three times. But there''s six of us and one of him, there''s a reason teams exist and it''s not just the Spite. It''s because people are stronger together than one alone," Fritz said, borrowing some of the rhetoric in ''The Observations''. "No man is an island, let alone a fortress."

    Cal grimaced, but Fritz''s false confidence, brash bravado and profound-sounding statement seemed to steel the team, though few of them really took the words to heart.

    With them all hidden away and waiting, Fritz stood in the prepared clearing not far from the cave and focused on his Awareness. He drew Quicksilver, held it loosely at his side, and closed his eyes. He felt at the niggling, uneasy sensation that had haunted him during his Climb. He poured all his attention into it highlighting it in his mind and listening to its subtle drumming. Every minute the sensation was getting louder, clearer and Fritz knew the raider was getting closer.

    For almost an hour he stood there, listening.

    When the uneasiness suddenly spiked into fear Fritz opened his eyes and glared around for his assailant. He saw nothing, but on some level he knew Vaa''gur was there, invisible.

    "Why don''t you just come out, coward?" Fritz drawled out as if bored of the entire encounter already.

    His voice was a little too high to be entirely convincing, but it did get a low growl of frustration from his left, which Fritz turned to face.

    "Or are you going to sneak around like a quivering cat and stab me in the back?" He taunted. When it got no reaction he continued with condescension. "Huh. I guess being a pathetic, snivelling craven must be part of those Commands. No wonder the Krakosi are so despised."

    A blurring form lunged towards him with a feral yell, and the shifting red and gold of the jungle fell off of Vaa''gur''s form like he was doffing a cloak. His dagger came forward towards Fritz''s heart. Vaa''gur was no longer toying with him at all. Fritz met the dagger with Quicksilver, diverting it outwards and responding with a riposte. The raider snaked around it, and with a spin stabbed the leaden dagger, again, towards Fritz''s chest.

    Fritz contorted his face into fear and pain as he activated a Gloom Strike, shrouding the clay flask he pulled from a pouch. He smashed it on Vaa''gur''s head, drenching him with its contents. The raider could not be distracted or deterred, and the terrible dagger plunged into Fritz and into his heart.

    "Got you," Vaa''gur nearly moaned, his breath ragged. Small trickles of blood mingling with the concoction dripping off his face.

    Fritz''s own face held terror for only a second before his expression fell away and was replaced with a smirk. Vaa''gur''s blade passed through his suddenly shadowy form as if he were made of smoke.

    "That''s my line."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 33

    Vaa''gur''s grin of sadistic elation was replaced with a grimace of savage fury. Fritz slid back and out of his opponent''s reach, his shadowy body solidifying after a heartbeat. He could feel his newly acquired Passive take its due from his Dusksong mana.

    Three minutes until it refreshes, better flee to the others.

    The raider''s face scrunched, and he retched, spitting as the stench of the ghost potion overwhelmed his senses for a moment. The foul concoction within the, now shattered, flask had soaked into his hair, beard and armour. Vaa''gur retreated as Fritz took the opening with a swift series of stabs and slashes. Even with momentary distraction the raider was able to dodge most of the strikes, though some did cut bright lines of red across his arms and ribs. Fritz then wove in a Lethargy as he pushed the man backwards with his flitting blade.

    The raider turned his shoulders and brought his tattooed arm to the forefront. It suddenly lit with sickening green light, forcing Fritz to face away. Vaa''gur hissed as he stepped on another of the poisoned caltrops littered around the clearing. With a yell, he leapt backwards and into the undergrowth, disappearing into a swirl of red and gold and taking on the colours of the jungle.

    The raider likely thought himself invisible and untouchable. There were, however, a couple of small problems to the raider''s disappearing act. First, Fritz had seen it before. And second, tiny specs of silver glittered off his silhouette as he slowly stalked around.

    Fritz silently thanked Naomi, this hadn''t been the intended use of the potion, but it more than exceeded his expectations and perfectly filled a need in his plan. He pretended not to notice his stalker and paced backward cautiously while yelling out.

    "Come out knave! Stop hiding! You squid-fiddling, fish-fondling, fainthearted fool. Fight me like a man!"

    Fritz wanted nothing of the sort, of course, and the string of insults were a prepared code that signalled to his waiting crew that the potion had worked to make Vaa''gur visible. Fritz thought he could hear the bending of a bow and gulped. He had gambled that the raider wouldn''t use his arrows on first sight. Mainly due to thinking the vicious beast would want to kill him up close, so he could revel in his bloody, painful death. But it seemed now the raider just wanted him gone and an arrow to the heart was the best way to do it.

    Not taking any chances, Fritz activated the last cast of his barrier ring and continued retreating. He was moving towards the cave, passing by a large tree behind which Bert and George lurked. They were ready to spring forward and meet the raider with punches, kicks and a six-foot-tall copper greatsword should he come too close.

    The arrow was loosed and Fritz only had a moment to dodge. He was too slow and his barrier was struck, dissipating with a hum as the sticky, venom-soaked arrowhead bounced off and fell to the dirt. There was a blur in the jungle''s foliage and a second arrow was drawn and nocked in an instant, this one Fritz escaped with a desperate dive behind a mossy log. He ducked his head, put his back to the wood and listened for the snap of a string. He knew he had to stall until his new Ability, Umbral Phase, refreshed before he could take the raider on with any confidence.

    There was a yell and the shriek of Sever being activated as Vaa''gur''s outline circled into view, right beside the tree George was behind. The camouflage fell away and the raider raised his sturdy bow between him and the swift arc of the shining blade. For a moment it looked like the bow was about to be sliced in two, when suddenly its wood rippled and darkened as if it were now made of black metal. The sword clanged against the bow, sparking and screaming as they repelled each other, forcing their wielders backwards.

    Bert flanked the stumbling raider, slamming into him with that rush Ability, both crashing into a tree with a thud that rattled the branches overhead. He held him there, trapping the raider against the trunk. The bow fell from Vaa''gur''s grip and his other hand stabbed down, sinking his darkly-dripping dagger into the meat between Bert''s shoulder and neck. Black veins spread rapidly, pulsing thickly as venom crawled beneath his skin. Bert cried out and gripped Vaa''gur''s face, spraying acid on him at point blank.

    There was a sizzle and a bellow, a Treasure activated and a slippery sheen of what looked like water diluted and washed away the Corrosive Spray before it could melt the raider''s face. The strange sheen let Vaa''gur slip out of the tight grip and slide away, leaving his dagger buried in Bert''s flesh. George''s shining greatsword swung suddenly into his escape path, but the raider ducked and the Sever cut into bark and wood instead.

    Vaa''gur raked at the armoured man with venom-encrusted nails but found no purchase on the iron-hard surface. Quick as a viper, he pulled a paper packet out from a pocket, tore it, and blew its powdered contents into the closed visor.

    George screamed and clawed at his helmet, staggering back and abandoning his sword, lodged as it was in the thick of the tree. The raider kicked him away and George tumbled to the ground hard. Bert blurred forward again and Vaa''gur spun, meeting the charge with a throwing dagger, much like the ones Fritz had. It sank into Bert''s ribs and made him stumble before he collided with the raider with all the force of a rushing bull, sending them both tumbling.

    Bert landed on top, but was rolled over fiercely by the other man''s greater strength. Vaa''gur was panting heavily now, his breath coming in great heaves. Bert seized his leg and yelled, "Got him!"

    Lauren stepped out from her hiding place and let loose a great torrent of flame from her lips. It roared and the fire washed over the raider''s back. The watery skein appeared again, protecting him from the worst of the clinging flame, allowing him break free and stand again. The fire cut out, and Vaa''gur turned his vicious gaze to her. Only for Lauren to breathe more fire over him. Bert kicked at his leg, bringing him down, again, to the ground. Engulfed by an outpouring of flame the raider scrambled and screamed.

    In his flailing his hand seized upon a stone the size of a lime, and he flung it with unerring accuracy, right at Lauren''s head. With a crack and a thud she fell, and the stream of fire ceased with her toppling. Vaa''gur rolled, and even as he still burned with flames dancing over his body, he pulled out a vial and downed its contents. Fritz was up and moving, being the last one still standing he charged towards the raider. He passed by George, who lay prone and shaking violently.

    Fritz stopped, hesitated, the flames were being steadily smothered by the raider''s rolling, and he would lose his chance to slay him if he lingered. But George was in serious peril, he could see it in those jerky movements and hear it in the horrible wheezing. Dusksong was discordant within, wanting him to both slay his foe and fulfil his duty as George''s lord. It fought and he fought it.

    Duty won over malice, compassion over cruelty, because Fritz willed it. He ran to George''s side and lifted his visor open. He saw the blistered, bruised face and mouth beneath the iron and saw those terrified yellow eyes. Without another thought, he pressed the last healing potion to bleeding lips. Fritz had no more time to spare the man so he turned to Vaa''gur who was getting to his feet, the fire finally smothered.

    His black leather armour smoked and steamed, ash flaked off its surface, it was a sorry sight but it held. An even sorrier sight, however, was the raider''s melted face and skin. His left cheek was a patchwork of white and pink scars, his beard and hair on that side burnt away. Vaa''gur glared, hatred and agony warred on his twisted features. All sign of fear or self-preservation was gone, abandoned to madness.

    "Die!" He shrieked, pulling free two more long knives that had been strapped to his belt.

    Fritz looked to Bert, and saw him unconscious, and yet still clutching at the leaden dagger inside him. Then he searched for Cal, the last of the team meant to strike since Rosie was too sick to fight without being a burden. He saw nobody. He cursed the man. Another Toby or Jane, another cowardly traitor.

    Fritz hid his dismay. "No, I shall not heed thee, beast," he cried, standing straight and levelling Quicksilver at his foe. "Perish as the weak, just as your Commands decree."

    The raider twitched as the words landed, then he winced and screamed furiously. He lunged forward with his two blades, weaving a slashing, slicing storm. While Vaa''gur was a mess, burned and beaten, he was still strong, still fast and still deadly. Fritz''s reach advantage meant nothing against the raider''s own in-close all-out assault.

    In fact many of his advantages meant little against this foe, he had to discard his ideas of using his Illusory Shadow and Stone Pit. Both small trickeries would be less than useless against an enemy with as many Sense Abilities as this raider likely had. Fritz had to find his victory elsewhere, in his skill as a swordsman and his savvy as a strategist. He gritted his teeth and took up his guarded stance, Quicksilver in one hand and his bone dagger in the other.

    He met the man''s savage charge with both blades. They clashed, sword to dagger, and bone to steel. Droplets of sticky, dark venom flicked off the raiders weapons in the first flurries, splattering skin and leather. It itched where it landed, and unbalanced by the man''s Strength, Fritz had to take a step back in a cautious fighting retreat.

    Vaa''gur''s stance and strikes weren''t as disciplined or precise as Fritz''s, not in his current suffering state. But when the Attribute difference was so vast it didn''t matter. Quicksilver quickly became more a shield than a sword and it took all of Fritz''s skill to match even this weakened, exhausted and whittled-down foe.

    It wasn''t enough, even while parrying with both his dagger and sword, and only risking the most sure of counterattacks, he still took an envenomed cut here and there along his forearms. He narrowed his focus and slowly acclimated to his foe''s swift, slippery style. Fritz concentrated fully on defence, forcing his opponent to exert more effort into his attacks than he himself put into his deflections.

    Their clashes clanged and clattered. A parry turned into a swift stab easily dodged or beat away. A dagger''s tip aimed for Fritz''s heart only to be evaded with a last-second adjustment of his stance and a single step for space. A savage kick, thudding into Fritz''s shin. Followed by a thrust of steel only narrowly deflected and responded to with a swift slash of Quicksilver. On and on they fought. For what seemed like hours though was more likely only a minute.

    Fritz had to constantly retreat to keep the distance between them, but Vaa''gur came on relentlessly. He matched the man, drained as he was, his sword arm shaking from opposing the raider''s far greater strength over and over. He put every ounce of effort into enduring, watching for an opening that would have to manifest, need to appear, or it would all be for nought.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    In only another three clashes, Fritz was vindicated. The raider''s strikes steadily slowed. Finally, Lethargy, exertion, poison and wounds were taking hold, rendering Vaa''gur''s legs sluggish while his arms trembled ever so slightly. The eyes, that were so intent, so focused and furious, had taken on a dullness, a deep exhaustion. And now glanced around, glinting with fear and searching for an escape. Seemingly sensing the tide had turned out of his favour, and seeing as his battered prey still stood and still smirked. Vaa''gur disappeared again in a shroud of shifting colour.

    Fritz growled, they were so close to slaying him and now the bastard was going to flee? After all that fighting, all their suffering, the monster would escape? Just like that? He listened for footsteps and scanned for silver flecks. Nothing. The bastard had fled.

    He lowered Quicksilver to still his arm''s aching tremors and he yelled at the coward''s invisible back.

    "Krakosi cur! Craven scum!"

    Only for his accusation to be suddenly proven wrong.

    Fritz was struck behind the knees by a blurry kick and he was swept off his feet and onto his back. Vaa''gur leapt onto him, pinning Fritz''s arms with his legs and holding his two daggers high and roaring, laughing in triumph.

    "Got you, got you, got yoooooou!"

    It hadn''t yet been three minutes, Umbral Phase was still unusable, needing at least another nine seconds to refresh. Fritz had failed, his team either unconscious or fleeing and he was going to die in agony. He could see it all in those insane black eyes. Dread suffocated him and he despaired.

    A stone the size of a man''s torso soared through the air as if thrown by a giant. It whooshed over Vaa''gur''s shoulders, only just ducked under and missing his scalded scalp by a hair. Both men turned their heads in the direction it came from to see a terrified, pale Cal, Heave-ing up a head-sized stone from the rocky dirt and preparing to throw it, hefting it as if it were light as a leather ball. Fritz''s faint, flickering hope rekindled when he saw that mopey idiot still fighting.

    Another of the stones flew at Vaa''gur, and with a slippery shrug, he dodged out of the way while keeping Fritz stuck and struggling under his body. Cal ducked down and seized another stone, but Vaa''gur wouldn''t let him throw again. He hurled a dagger at the man''s skinny leg. It whistled through the air as it spun, which stopped when it stuck in his thigh.

    Cal screamed and fell, dropping the stone on his other foot.

    Vaa''gur turned his mad gaze to Fritz, still caught beneath him. He gripped his remaining dagger in both hands and plunged it down towards Fritz''s heart. It was over. Or was it? While Cal''s attacks hadn''t done any damage, they had done something even better. They had bought time. Time enough for Umbral Phase to refresh.

    The dagger slipped straight through Fritz''s shifting, shadowy form and stabbed into the dirt below him. In the moment the Ability lasted Fritz was free from all physical bonds or barriers and passed right through the raider. He was on his feet and levelling his insubstantial, wisping blade at the man''s back, waiting for the odd feeling of weightlessness to end so he could strike.

    Vaa''gur spun, his dagger coming up to parry. But it was too late for him. Quicksilver was solid, swift and razor-sharp, and Fritz thrust his blade into the man''s throat. Blood poured from the rent he wrought, but Fritz didn''t stop with just one stab. He placed another tearing thrust into the man''s chest, piercing, shredding a lung for good measure. The vile raider stared up at him with numb disbelief and blood gurgled from his mouth as he tried to speak.

    Maybe a too-late plea for mercy or surrender, or maybe an exaltation, knowing what little he did of the Krakosi''s foul Commands.

    Whatever it was the raider was attempting to say, Fritz didn''t want to hear it. He slashed the man''s hands that clutched his throat, trying to keep his blood in. Then Fritz started hacking at Vaa''gur. Revenge for all the harm he''d inflicted and the terror he''d put them through. For every great insult then for every small slight, Fritz and Quicksilver tore at the man''s flesh.

    Then Vaa''gur was dead. A mess of bloody gashes and scored bones, a violent portrait of red and white painted by a baleful blade.

    Hot tears ran down Fritz''s cheeks. His fury sputtered out, replaced with hollow relief and a bleak detachment. He slumped, falling to his knees in exhaustion, he dropped his blade and it lay by his side as he fell onto his back. Poison crept up his arms in agonising tendrils, it was already pounding painfully throughout his body. His vision darkened, and his ears rang with a dull whine.

    Cal crawled over to where Fritz panted, sweat and wept.

    "You got him," Cal said.

    "You helped."

    "I did?"

    "You did. Thank you," Fritz reassured. "Alas, this seems to be the end for me. The venom, you see..."

    Fritz was somewhat surprised to see tears in Cal''s grey eyes.

    "Don''t die," He pleaded softly, grasping one of Fritz''s sweaty, burning hands. All traces of Cal''s resentment and anger replaced with aching ripples of regret.

    Inwardly Fritz smirked.

    "Take... care... of... the... team," he wheezed out dramatically.

    "Don''t talk like that," Cal said.

    Fritz smiled sadly and coughed, closing his eyes and falling limp.

    Dusksong chimed cheerily.

    Dark grasped him and he felt no more.

    ---

    George awoke, he was lying down in his armour, his visor open to the humid air. Had he somehow fallen asleep in his uncomfortable iron plate and overwhelming heat?

    No, that wasn''t it. They were waiting in ambush, and then the raider appeared, and they fought. He had missed with his Sever. And he inhaled some kind of powder. That''s right. He got hit by the poisonous dust.

    George''s hand went to his throat from the vivid memory of it. His lungs burning then cramping so tight he couldn''t breathe. They felt better now, relaxed if still raw. His lungs still ached. They were uncomfortably warm and slightly itchy, but with a grunt he sat up and searched the battlefield. It seemed that he was too late to help, he had been unconscious for too long and the fight had been over for minutes.

    Bert was gripping the handle of the raider''s leaden dagger, struggling to pull it free with a shaking arm. Lauren lay on top of a fern, a lump swelling just over her brow. Cal was sniffling, wiping at tears and crouching beside Fritz as he lay still.

    Help who you can help, leave the dead for last, George told himself as he stood gingerly then trudged over to Bert. The trembling man looked up blearily with those amazing amber eyes.

    "Help. Pull it out. Poison," Bert said thickly.

    "The bleeding," George protested, not sure if the act of tearing out the dagger would do more harm than good.

    "Potent... Blood, Vitality," Bert stated, a shudder running through him. "Be fine. Pull it out."

    George hesitated for a moment and Bert frowned, then he obeyed, grabbing the dark ivory handle and using a portion of his Might to pull the dagger free quickly and cleanly.

    Bert grunted in pain, but sighed soon afterwards, slumping and twitching as his wound poured dark blood.

    "Can you get me a vial of that clearblood venom?" Bert asked, his voice more steady but just as tired. "A drop or two might help clean the wound."

    A venom to fight venom, it made sense, so George found and fetched a vial for the man.

    "Thanks, check on the others would you?" Bert said. "I''ll be along in a moment." He added after pouring a drop of venom on his finger and staring at it then adding another, then another for good measure. Worry constricted George''s chest as he watched on.

    Bert hissed when he plunged his finger into the bloody hole left by the dagger, but the thick, black blood and protruding veins did seem to lighten in hue.

    Bert waved George off. "Go, see to the rest."

    He nodded and went next to Lauren. She was breathing, but unresponsive, it seemed she had been struck in the head by something heavy. A lump on her left side of her forehead had steadily grown to the size of an egg. Her skull didn''t look shattered and he couldn''t see any other injury so he lifted her and moved her next to the last of the injured, or dying. Fritz.

    Bert joined the huddle, looking much stronger than he had been. He barely shook now, though he still had an ungainly gait when he had walked over.

    "How''s Lauren?" He asked.

    "Don''t know, head wounds can be unpredictable," George said. "Or so I''ve heard."

    Bert nodded seriously. "We''ll do what we can. Carry her all the way to the Well if we have to." He stated, easily taking over command of the team in Fritz''s unconscious absence.

    "George, you hurt?" Bert asked.

    "No, I don''t remember exactly what happened, but I feel okay," he replied, suppressing a cough.

    "Cal, how about you?" Bert said, turning to the next of the team.

    "No. Not hurt. I''m fine, but Fritz," Cal gulped. "Fritz said he''s dying."

    Bert burst into laughter, then shook his head and grinned wide. Obviously, he knew something they didn''t about Fritz''s words. Was it some kind of inside joke?

    Fritz was pale and just as unresponsive as Lauren, but he was still breathing shallowly. The black veins on his cut arms throbbed with his heartbeat, and while they weren''t fading they didn''t seem to be getting worse. He wondered what that was about. Bert had said something about bones on the second Floor and Fritz seemed to share in that secret. Likely some Treasure, potion or magic they shared. One that helped with poisons seemingly.

    He didn''t pry, not now, not when there were things to do.

    "What''s so funny?" Cal said indignantly. "His last words were ''Take care of the team''! Aren''t you worried about your friend or moved by his sacrifice?"

    That just made Bert laugh harder. Much to Cal''s chagrin and George''s own confusion.

    "Sorry, sorry," Bert said wiping a tear of joy from his eye. "Once you get to know him it''ll make sense. But for now, here''s some advice. If Fritz has the energy to be dramatic he''s likely fine, triply so if he actually says he''s dying. You should only really worry when he''s being quiet, that means he''s hiding something. Something dire. Or something stupid."

    Bert shook his friend''s shoulder.

    Fritz groaned, mumbling, "I''m dead, give me a minute."

    "See," Bert grinned. "But we''re still missing the last of our team. Cal, can you go get Rosie, it''s... safe now," He ordered glancing meaningfully at the mutilated corpse of the raider.

    Cal nodded and left to fetch his sister.

    "Made a mess of the bastard didn''t he? Can''t say he deserved better, but it is hard to look at," Bert commented, throwing a series of long fern leaves over the corpse.

    George had to agree, he was surprised that the foppish man had inflicted such gruesome violence. It was one thing to do it to a monster, but to a man... the thought made his stomach turn. They decided to move some ways away from the bloody mess, but kept the covered pile within eyesight, lest something disturb the body.

    It took some time, about half an hour, but eventually, they were all gathered and all conscious. Though Rosie, Lauren and Fritz were all still shaky and weak, slathering their many small injuries with that healing grease. George himself felt mostly fine, which he had thought something of a wonder until he had found the empty vial of a healing potion not far from where he had been lying. Fritz had fed it to him while he was choking, dying, from the poison. Fritz had saved his life.

    He didn''t know how to feel about it, or he did, but he didn''t want to fall in love with the fascinating man. It always happened in the tales, when the dashing prince saved the plain commoner from deadly peril. Fritz was handsome, he was charming. But underneath all that bravado, something dark and scarred lurked. They''d all seen it when he had snapped, and now again with this mangled corpse. It was cold, cruel and terrible. Such a man was not one to dally with lightly, even if it could be interesting, or wildly fun.

    On second thought, he pitied who ever might wind up entangled with Fritz. The man would be no end of trouble. He just knew it. Also he had a feeling his luck would be better tried with someone outside the Climbing team, the conventional wisdom being that romances in Spires tended to get chaotic and complicated.

    George''s cheeks heated, and he shook his head to ward off his straying thoughts.

    I''m on a Climb, I can''t be distracted.

    He returned to the present and listened to the conversation at hand.

    Lauren complained of a terrible headache and some dizziness, while Rosie said it was just more of the same weakness and nausea. Fritz, however, proclaimed his survival a miracle and that they were lucky to see such a thing in their lifetimes. Bert shook his head and chuckled, he obviously thought Fritz was exaggerating. But was he?

    They had gone against a foe they had no right to best. But they had won. And though they had been injured, and had much of the Floor to go, they all still survived. George supposed Fritz was right; It was something of a miracle. He hefted his copperchange sword and thought about what the future would bring. What decision he''d make at the sixth Well. Should he really continue with this team? He wiped his sweaty brow and his thoughts were interrupted by Fritz''s resonant tones.

    "I propose a toast," He declared holding aloft his waterflask. "To triumph and victory against all odds!"

    "Here, Here," Bert agreed raising his own water. He was echoed, if less vehemently, by the rest of the team.

    George himself found his own throat too raspy and weak to really give voice to the elation and relief he was feeling.

    "And now onto the best part," Fritz said with an avaricious smirk. "Loot."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 34

    On wobbly legs, Fritz strode through the small section of red and gold jungle. His whole body ached while his brain felt like it was trying to escape his skull with small, cold claws. Dark veins stood out on the too-pale skin of his arms and the cuts he had taken. The venom had soaked deep into his flesh, burning and cramping his muscles. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, the newly formed scabs, however, had an almost green tinge and the flesh around was bruised black. His heart would skip a beat now and then, causing him to sweat and shiver. Of course, he hid all these ailments and afflictions under a mask of affability and avarice.

    For all he had complained about the heaviness of his moon silvered bones, it was evident that they had saved him this day. Without the precious metal that lined his skeleton, purifying the muscles corded around them and the blood that ran over them, he was sure he would have died. Whatever he could say about the malevolent Sunken Spire, he couldn''t say its rewards were meagre. Though he did think he would still have to visit a Well to recover fully. Or maybe find an antidote. Perhaps he''d find one in the raider''s belongings?

    Fritz stood over the fern-covered corpse of Vaa''gur, or what remained of him. The copper stink of blood suffused the clearing. His face fell and he covered his nose. He didn''t want to look on the body, or the remains of it after his... rage fuelled revenges. But he knew that he had to. Had to face what he had wrought with nothing but hate and his own sword. Quicksilver lay not far from the dead man, so he recovered it, cleaned it and returned it to its sheath, before taking to his grisly task.

    His blade had done well and deserved to rest in its home. As did they all. If they had homes that was. He would have to see to that, maybe a large house that the entire team could reside in. It wasn''t uncommon for Climbers to pool their resources that way. But it also wasn''t the rule, many could only stand each other for so long after all. From spending all your time stuck with your team in a Spire only to be trapped with them at home as well would be a nightmare for some.

    Fritz didn''t think he was that type, but he had never really stayed in one place too long since being in the gutters anyway. He wondered how others, like Cal, Rosie and George, might take it, or how Sid might like it. He shook his head, his mind had wandered to a distant future, one not relevant for now.

    He looked over the bloody leaves and dreaded, again, to look under them. But he had to strip this man, no, this monster, of valuables. Bert had offered to do it for him, but Fritz had waved him off. He couldn''t have anyone else do it, it was his kill, his failure, that and they might miss something hidden.

    Gingerly he removed the coverings and saw the terrible sight below. What used to be Vaa''gur had been slashed to ribbons, skin and armour hand in tattered strips over notched bones. Blood pooled under the body and the black eyes stared blindly at the canopy above, where the bright birds flittered about and sang their joyous songs. It was a gruesome sight and Fritz confronted the guilt. He had taken another life. Though this one he knew was different to the others he had taken before.

    He had to remind himself that this thing would have done the same to him, if not worse. Then he would''ve done it to his friends. It did ease what little guilt he felt at causing so much agony, but he still worried. He didn''t want killing to become routine. An obvious answer to all his problems, like it seemed to become to those who abused their power. He straightened his back and gripped Quicksilver''s hilt.

    Vaa''gur had it coming. That and worse. He would spare no more grief, not even a passing concern, on the creature before him. This thing had given up its humanity long ago, and he hated it.

    He got to the bloody work of stripping the corpse of anything useful. A belt, a surprisingly heavy dagger sheath, pouches, the quiver, a waterflask, the rings and jewellery, he piled them all on an unfurled blanket beside the body. He left the torn clothes and the ruined strips of leather, and the boots as they were studded with holes and caltrops. He found the bow where it had fallen, still in good shape, but missing the black gleam it had before, and added it to the pile.

    What he was left with was a sizeable stack of objects, though Fritz suspected that more of the man''s wealth had to be in a pack or bag somewhere. Likely the raider had stashed it before springing his ambush. Fritz could only hope he''d been hasty and hidden it away poorly. His hope was soon realised as he circled the outskirts of the clearing. As he searched he spotted a tree and, just nine feet above the ground, a dark hollow within its tall trunk. He got a peculiar feeling about it and could see a flock of agitated songbirds chirping angrily in its branches.

    The birds more than the feeling convinced him to check it out, the raider had probably disturbed the pretty little things some time ago. Fritz could have made the climb easily if he was in good condition, unfortunately, he didn''t think his envenomed arms could take the entire strain of his weight. Luckily he wasn''t alone, he could get Bert to search it when he called for him. Which he did.

    Bert came running, already he had recovered much in the last couple of minutes, though he still looked shaky.

    "What''s wrong?" He asked as he slid to a stop.

    "Nothing. I need you to check out that hollow," Fritz said pointing. "Mind the birds."

    "Oh. Too lazy to do the real work," Bert teased. "Or are you afraid of birds now too?"

    "Yes to lazy, no to fear. Now get to it, we don''t have all day," Fritz ordered as arrogantly as he could muster, which wasn''t much. He was feeling more than a little off.

    Bert laughed and climbed the tree with ease, pulling a large, black-leather backpack from the tree''s hollow. The birds chirped indignantly, but didn''t swarm Bert as Fritz may have feared. He carried it down and hefted it from arm to arm thoughtfully.

    "Something strange?" Fritz inquired.

    "It''s light, too light," Bert said, grinning.

    Fritz grinned back, another weight reduction pack was a great find, not to mention all the wealth that might be within it.

    "Let''s go then. We can wrap up all the other stuff and relocate to the cave. We can sort it there and rest," Fritz outlined.

    "Yes, sir," Bert agreed with an extravagant, fist-to-the-chest salute.

    They returned to the clearing, wrapped up the items in the blanket they lay upon and made their way to where the team had been gathered. Only to find they had left, and must have had the same idea about regrouping in the cave. It annoyed him they hadn''t waited, but he could hardly blame them, it was afternoon and was getting excruciatingly warm. He himself was terribly sweaty, dripping like a leaky roof.

    Fritz and Bert walked through the slight mist, splashed through the cool waterfall and into the passage of damp stone beyond. With the dull roar of the falling water and its pervasive wetness, it felt almost like a hideout in Rain City.

    Cal and Rosie sat together, backs to the wall and near enough to the entrance to be the first to see the two enter. Rosie didn''t seem to be doing well, she was paler than she had been even an hour before.

    "Rosie, you okay?" Fritz asked as he led in Bert who carried in their well-earned wealth.

    "I''m fine-" Rosie began before Cal interrupted, "-still sick, and pissed off that you didn''t let her ''get a stab in''."

    "Sorry to hear that Rosie," Fritz said amiably. "Though maybe there''s an antidote to whatever was on the dagger."

    "I coulda helped. With the ambush," she whined, again.

    Cal released a worried, long-suffering sigh and met Fritz''s eyes for the first time since he had ''died.''

    Fritz smiled and the other man looked embarrassed, then annoyed. It brought him no small amount of mirth to know Cal had wept and even yelled at Bert on his behalf. He tried to stifle a smirk, but obviously wasn''t successful as Cal turned away, grumbling.

    "Bring the loot here, in front of the lantern if you would," Lauren said primly, her lens already set to one eye.

    "Yes milady," Fritz said, attempting a bow, but instead lurching forward and nearly falling over as his aches, pains and dizziness caught up with him.

    "Out of the way, lordling," Bert groused good-naturedly.

    "Squidling to you! I was promoted remember," Fritz said, sitting down and letting his body rest for a moment on the blissfully cool stone. "A far more esteemed title."

    "In what world is a squid more esteemed than a lord?" Lauren asked somewhat incredulously.

    "In any good one," Fritz supplied. "Alas, we live on Epsa."

    Bert slipped past his friend, ignoring the banter. He placed down his burdens, opening the blanket, and adding the raider''s leaden dagger to the top of the pile of mismatched objects.

    After only a moment of staring at the dark blade, both Lauren and George hissed, then looked to each other.

    "Is that what I think it is?" Lauren said anxiously.

    "I think so, would explain the wounds. We should get away from it," George said, a note of dread in his tone. Something seemed to occur to him and he quickly added, "A sheath, where''s its sheath? Cover that blade immediately!"

    Bert looked confused but did as George demanded, finding the heavy sheath and sliding the dagger into it, eliciting a strange click once it was fully secured.

    "What is it?" Cal asked, "What''s got you two so worked up?"

    "Bittersteel," they said together.

    Fritz had heard of it, but only in legend. The dark, ruinous metal was said to be a relic of a time before the Spires.

    "Oh," Bert said dumbly. "Dangerous?"

    "Yes," George grimly stated. "It''s among the most deadly materials to work with. Exposure to even the air around it will make you sick. Very sick. It''s incredibly hard to treat and cure."

    "Is Rosie going to die?" Cal asked with a small catch in his throat.

    "No, the healing magics of the Well should work to reverse the damage. One of the few things that will. And its toxic power is said to be slow and, unfortunately, very painful. But we have time, she''ll be fine," George explained. But Fritz could see the worry under those words, the doubt in his yellow eyes.

    "Will it be safe in its sheath?" Bert asked, peering closer.

    "Yes," Lauren said, staring at it through her lens. "The leather and the lead underneath is inscribed, as is the blade."

    "Not imbued?" Fritz asked.

    "Not imbued," she stated. "Likely protections on the sheath, and reinforcements on the dagger."

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "Maybe inscriptions that focus and refine the ruinous power the vile metal holds," George supplied. "Though such things could harm the wielder too."

    "It poisons even the wielder? Why on Epsa would anyone want to use such a weapon, it goes beyond insanity," Cal said.

    "Think of who, sorry, what we took it off," Fritz said. "A Krakosi. I knew they were bad and I had been warned. Still, I had thought the rumours an exaggeration, a fear of foreigners cultivated by the narrow-minded. Though it does seem that the monstrous reputation of Krakosi raiders exists for a reason."

    The team nodded solemnly.

    "Who wants the dagger?" Bert asked seemingly unperturbed.

    Fritz looked it over and decided against taking it. He already had a dagger, one with a deadly curse, and this one, which would slowly poison him, was not appealing in the slightest. It seemed that most shared his thoughts.

    "We can sell it when we get out," Fritz suggested. "Might fetch a decent price."

    There was a collective nod at the proposal.

    "Can I carry it? Maybe the magic on the sheath will help me," Rosie asked.

    "No. What if it just makes you sicker?" Cal objected.

    Rosie shrugged. "Sick either way."

    Fritz found no reason to deny her the dagger, so he threw it to her and it landed cleanly in her lap. She smiled weakly and hugged it to her chest.

    A dark mood had come over the team, so Bert, seeing an opening to distract them, upended the raider''s pack, dumping out the contents. There were vials and flasks, a mortar and pestle, many flasks and small boxes of herbs, monster parts and powders. A familiar iron flail dropped out with a thud, almost crushing one of the glass vials.

    "Hey, my flail!" Cal cried, snatching up his abandoned Treasure. "Wasn''t sure I''d ever see it again."

    "Rejoice, you have been rewarded for your bravery," Fritz said before turning to Bert and scolding him. "Stop! You might break something."

    Bert stopped emptying the pack in such a rough manner, but it was too late as one of the vials had broken, the black-green sludge within seeping out. A sheepish smile spread across his face as the others chided him.

    "That better have not been an antidote," Cal said.

    "Whoops," Bert said. "But it looks more like poison."

    Fritz had to agree, the substance, while not overtly caustic or acrid, definitely had the subtle scent of ruin and bitter toxin.

    "Probably poison, what with this raider being some kind of venom user," Fritz said.

    "I wonder why he didn''t use any of these on us," Lauren said, sorting through the unbroken vials, matching like to like into small piles.

    "Too deadly, too valuable, or maybe they don''t work on people but rather monsters," Fritz theorised.

    "Hmm, I can see that being the case," she conceded. "Oh look, more potion testers, and a Door dowser."

    Bert began to unload the pack more carefully, and Fritz heard him inhale sharply, seemingly in surprise.

    "Fritz, look," he said, proffering a head-sized pouch filled to the brim with gold triads. Though even more wonderful than the glut of gold was the small thumb-sized badge sitting on top of the coinage. Its clear raindrop-shaped gem glowed with flickering, pale-blue light. Fritz grinned, picking out the silver-backed badge.

    "Amazing, the idiot brought his Rain Spire badge with him," Fritz said reverently, staring at the precious piece of jewellery. "What a stroke of luck."

    "Hardly luck," Cal said. "We almost died, we still might die, if we can''t find the Stairway in time."

    "What I mean to say is that all this," Fritz waved over the piled objects. "Is an unexpected fortune. At least two Treasures. The bow and one of these rings respectively. All these poisons and potions, what I suspect is another re-filling waterflask. All that and a sack of gold and a bloody badge to enter the Rain Spire."

    George whistled at that, and even Lauren looked suitably impressed when he showed off the glittering gem.

    "Too bad there''s no no-notes," Bert groused.

    "It is, though you''ll be happy to hear that there are three Treasures," Lauren said. "The quiver is imbued as is the bow and this ring," she added, picking out the ring of pale bone and tracing its spiral pattern with her finger. "It looked dim through the lens, though I think that''s because it''s out of mana."

    "I suspect that the ring is a defensive Treasure, likely responsible for the slippery shield that blocked your fire," Fritz said. "It should go to someone without a way to protect themselves yet. Or I could swap it for my own barrier ring."

    "I think you''re slippery enough, any more would be wasted," Bert said.

    "Perhaps," Fritz hedged.

    "I''m happy with Lauren having it," Cal said, smiling at her, a gesture she mirrored prettily.

    "Yeah, don''t want her to get struck again," George agreed.

    "I got scales, don''t need to be slippery too," Rosie said.

    "And I don''t need it," Bert claimed, flexing his increasingly well-muscled frame.

    Lauren nodded, slipped the ring onto her finger, and held her hand out, admiring the band of white. "Lovely."

    "And Fritz will likely want the bow and quiver," Bert continued as the team looked to the rest of the treasures.

    "And why would that be?" Fritz asked.

    "Who else could use them?" Bert said. "George Cal? Rosie? Lauren? Do any of you want to use a bow?"

    "Not particularly," Lauren said while Rosie shook her head.

    "Sword," George stated as if that one word explained everything, which in this case it did.

    "I''ve never used one," Cal admitted. "But it could keep me out of danger."

    "How much Agility and Perception have you Aligned?" Fritz asked as he hefted up the dark wood of the bow.

    "Not much, does it matter?" Cal asked.

    Fritz shrugged. "It does. Though my Attributes are higher, I''m no marksman or hunter either. I know the barest of basics that ''The Observations'' taught me. You might have a talent for it that I don''t. We''ll test it later."

    Cal nodded.

    "And here I was sure that our mighty Hauler would want the raider''s magic pack instead of the bow," Bert lamented. "I''m disappointed."

    Cal perked up at that. "It''s magic?"

    "Oh, yes," Lauren said. "Looks to be quite the good one too. You don''t get many this fine in Rain City. You could go straight to the King''s Treasury with this one. And make a real fortune at the auction there. If you wanted."

    "Or you could keep it and become the great luggage boy you were meant to be!" Bert declared caught up in some fantasy.

    The comment got a chuckle from the team. Even Cal. Though Rosie''s laugh became a hacking cough quickly enough.

    "Are there any antidotes to the dagger''s poison?" Cal asked anxiously.

    "Right, yes we should test these vials," Lauren said. "Wish we had an alchemist or even a book that might help us identify these things.

    "A book you say?" Bert said, distractedly pulling forth and holding a long, stiff tube covered in snakeskin. He opened a clasp at the top and pulled off a lid of sorts, revealing yellowed, rolled parchment within. "How about these.... scrolls? They have pictures of potions and herbs on them."

    "That would help. Yes," Lauren said, taking the scroll case and gingerly handling the thick parchment she drew from the scaly cylinder.

    While she pored over the scrolls for anything useful Fritz turned to the rest of the far less interesting gear.

    "And here we have another waterflask if I''m not mistaken," Fritz said.

    "You''re not," Lauren provided absently.

    "George, here," Fritz said throwing him the flask. "You''ll need it the most, with all the sweating you must have to suffer through in all that armour."

    "I have my acclimation Ability and my cloak, but this is a welcome addition," he replied with a tired smile.

    The rest was truly the most mundane of things: rations, a spare set of clothes and undergarments, a bedroll and blanket, spare daggers, they were up to necks in daggers at this point. There was also a compass, a useful item for navigation, though prone to simply not work on some floors or behave oddly on others.

    "Aha!" Lauren cried. "These two vials are antidotes! This one is specifically for ''ruinous or caustic toxins.''"

    "Wonderful," Bert exclaimed taking the small vial Lauren held out.

    "Only one?" Cal said dejectedly. "What about Rosie?"

    "What do you mean?" Bert said, rushing to the sickly woman''s side and handing the vial to her.

    Cal frowned slightly. "Weren''t you also stabbed?"

    "What?" Bert said. "Yes. I mean, no. I''ll be fine, I have a Passive, or two, that makes me very hard to kill."

    "Are you sure?" Rosie asked tearily.

    "Of course," Bert said, rubbing at the base of his neck wound that still leaked thick dark blood. "The wounds look worse than they are."

    Fritz doubted it, and so did everyone else judging by the worried looks on their faces. But he wasn''t going to stop his friend from handing off the antidote. Not if that was his choice.

    She drank the clear liquid from the small vial, grimacing from its obviously vile taste.

    "As bad as them lobsters on the first floor," she complained. Though her eyes had already sharpened, losing some of that bone-deep malaise all those touched by that blade felt. Including himself.

    "How do you feel?" Cal asked sitting next to her.

    "Just drank it, didn''t I?" she scolded. "Don''t know yet. Idiot."

    Cal smiled, a bad mood was better than a sickly one after all.

    Fritz looked to his own wounds, covered in healing grease as they were, they still didn''t look like they were recovering well. They''d have to move on from this Floor soon. No chance to enjoy its relatively safe jungle or find any of the treasures or rare materials it concealed. He sighed.

    They watched, chatted and waited as Lauren sorted through the rest of the raider''s gear. She was a natural at that, easily grouping things and theorising their uses or identifying them with her own stores of knowledge or any provided by the scrolls.

    "I think," Lauren began with some surprise and a little awe. "I think that these scrolls are a Technique book."

    "Really?" Bert said. "Doesn''t look like one. It''s not even big, hard and red like mine." He added blandly.

    Lauren wasn''t impressed, but George and Cal snorted like children hearing a new curse word.

    "Techniques don''t only come in books, they can look like all sorts of things," she said. "And maybe it wouldn''t be so red if you handled it less often and less roughly."

    Bert seemed stunned for a moment, then he grinned while the rest laughed as their own shock wore off.

    "You got me there!" He cried.

    After the laughing had ceased, Rosie let out a yawn that was quickly echoed by Lauren and Cal. Suddenly they felt their weariness. The excitement for the Treasures and the fears for their injured slipping away.

    "I can sort through the rest tomorrow," Lauren said, her tone devoid of energy. "I need some sleep."

    "Should you sleep with a head wound like that?" George asked.

    She shrugged. "Can''t avoid it I''m dead tired. And I drank one of the remedies in the raider''s pack. It''s not a potion, but it was said to help those struck in the head."

    "If we sleep, what if Rosie gets worse?" Cal

    "I''m feeling better, much better," Rosie said. She looked better, she was less pale for one."I just need to rest. How long have we been running anyway? Feels like a week or a month."

    "Half a day at most," Fritz corrected, though he agreed with the sentiment and wasn''t exactly keeping track either. The last day had felt like a blur filled with terror and torment. "Very well, get some sleep. I''ll be at the front and on watch."

    "Oh no, get some sleep, Fritz," Bert demanded. "You can barely keep your eyes open. I''ll take the watch."

    Fritz didn''t even have the strength to argue, a sure sign Bert was right, so he acquiesced.

    When they had quieted down and set in to get some rest.

    Finally, some sleep. After all the running and the terrible march, then all the incredibly draining fighting. All the passions, fears, dreads and furies they had felt over the course of the two floors, three if you included the fourth. Looking back on even the last hours, Fritz wondered how they had pulled off their victory.

    He supposed his new Power had something to do with it. Not remembering quite what it did, he fell into his Sanctum.

    It was raining, and he yawned. His willow groaned while it swayed, seemingly joining him in exalting his weariness. He was sitting on a chair in the pavilion and right by his Eldritch Flame in its new moonsilver brazier. The carvings were different but Fritz had no mind to examine them now. Instead, he thought his Spire sheet into being.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 15

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    Sigil: Sunken Spire, Gold Award

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength:9

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 12

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 18

    Control: 9

    Dusksong: 12

    Grace: 6

    ---------

    Activated 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow''s grace, deliver foes, to night''s embrace.

    ---

    Lethargy

    Feeling tired? Getting slow? Take a rest, let it go.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it''s dire.

    ---

    Danger Sense

    Behind the boulder, up in the tree, lurking threats, can''t hide from me.

    ---

    Umbral Phase

    A shifting shadow, unmarred by blade, foes fail to harm, a formless shade.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Cloak of Dusk

    Wrap yourself in twilight''s cover, what''s one shadow from another?

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow -Evolution 1/3

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    He focused on the glyphs describing his newest Passive and a more detailed description hummed forth from the sliver lines and circles.

    ---------

    ---

    Umbral Phase

    A shifting shadow, unmarred by blade, foes fail to harm, a formless shade.

    When you are about to be brought to harm, you instead phase into shadow.

    Alignment: Shadow, Space.

    Cost: Two, Aligned, Near-Aligned Only.

    Duration: Passive, Suppressible. Effect: One Second.

    Refresh: Three minutes.

    ---

    ---------

    He stared at the fantastic Ability, though wondered what some of its description meant. It held secrets, but those questions could wait for tomorrow. He left his Sanctum and lay on his bedroll, placing his head on his pillow, listening to the calming crashing of the waterfall.

    He had won, he had survived, and he slept.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 35

    The creature stalking him sliced into his arms and disappeared into the bleak, grey forest. Fritz tried to flee but the monster followed. It had three faces, sixty faces, nine hundred faces. All faces of those he had killed, and had fallen to his blade. Quicksilver howled, it was like a thousand swords drawn all at once. Countless discordant tones in a sharp, cold song. It looked different, felt different, and yet it was the same. The beast pounced again, lamenting their deaths, blaming him with all those flensed faces and lying lips. Fritz scowled, his own visage cast in a vicious veil. It was their fault they died! Not his!

    He met the accusations with his blade''s edge. What else could he do?

    Fritz awoke, his arms felt as if they were burning. It was a bad way to wake. He stifled a small cry as he sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in the cave, not in the forest. He exhaled slowly and his heart began to settle out of its rapid rhythm. He wasn''t the only one awake. Bert was still on watch and glanced to Fritz''s moving form while he talked softly with George. Lauren was also awake, not wasting any time as she catalogued their treasure on a sheaf of paper, the slightly fishy, acrid scent of squid ink permeating the air around her.

    The siblings still slept, huddled close and snoring.

    "Bert," Fritz said. "I''m feeling better, you can get some rest now."

    His words weren''t entirely true, he still ached, felt weak and weary. His hands and forearms were as heavy as lead. Though he could deal with it, the pain wasn''t nearly as bad as when he had burnt himself with eldritch flame.

    Bert looked him over suspiciously, but nodded all the same and shuffled over to Fritz.

    "Shoo, let me have your warm spot," Bert said. "And your pillow, I get the best sleep with it."

    Fritz put on a performative sigh of long-suffering, but smiled as he let Bert take his place.

    Lauren turned to all the noise and raised an eyebrow. Fritz smiled blandly and crept over to where she crouched in front of all the Treasures. He kept an ear out for trouble, though there was very little to listen for. Even that uneasiness that had been plaguing him this whole climb had completely disappeared. Likely due to the fact that its origin lay, dead, defeated, maimed and mangled, covered coarsely, below branch and tangle.

    Fritz gently pushed down the humming Dusksong. He wondered how faeries dealt with the rhyming nonsense that was imbued in their magics. He didn''t remember the Duskmoth doing much of it, though he remembered little of what went on in that strange realm where she dwelt.

    He stopped reminiscing and glanced over the list Lauren was writing in a concise yet elegant manner. The handwriting was similar to the lady herself, constrained yet dotted with pretty, almost flamboyant, flourishes.

    "You''re good at that. I take it that you''ve handled ledgers and lists in the past?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes," she said nodding. "You know, I thought I hated it. But when I woke up and I saw all this equipment lying around I couldn''t help but organise it. It was like a mosquito buzzing in my brain."

    "Huh. Maybe it''s the head injury," Fritz smirked.

    She spun on him and slapped his shoulder playfully, and now that he was close he saw that her eyes were red. She''d cried recently.

    It makes sense, being attacked by a monster is one thing, a man is another.

    "Ow," he whined.

    "Oh, stop," she said smiling.

    "Ouch, that looks painful," he noted, pointing at her swollen, bruised forehead and the dark ring formed under the eye beneath it.

    "It''s not. Just feels tight," she said, poking it gently, then shrugging.

    "Find anything interesting in the raider''s gear?"

    "Compass," she said, throwing him the wooden disk.

    "Anything else?" He asked, catching it easily. He opened the hinged shell and peered at the small glass window and the wavering, metal needle indicating what was ''north'' on this Floor. He closed it quickly, it pointed nowhere near where he had sensed the Stairway.

    "Well, there are some venoms, potions and tonics that I''ve identified with the Technique scrolls. And some that I have tested," Lauren explained. "This one is quite odd," she added holding up a vial. "Potent, but odd."

    "What does it do?" Fritz asked intrigued.

    "It''s a venom, that makes blood flammable. Explosive even, if the scrolls are to be believed," she said.

    "It makes people explode?" He asked, a note of horror leaking into his voice.

    "No, you still have to start the fire yourself," she corrected. "Which is harder for some than others."

    Lauren smirked and Fritz mirrored it.

    "There''s also another bottle of that sleeping concoction," she said. "And something called gill-grease. Two more venoms, each specialised to kill certain types of monsters, and one for ''humans'' for a total of three. There was also a small trove of healing, stamina, pain-dulling and resistance remedies that will help us recover from or endure hardship."

    "That will be eminently useful in our current predicament," Fritz observed. "We should hand them out before we march to the next Well."

    Lauren nodded and she clutched her head from a sudden bout of dizziness, then she searched the neatly organised pile of vials, powders, pastes and pills. Seizing one box filled with tiny spheres that looked like dried peas, she took one and swallowed it down with a mouthful of water. For a moment it looked as if she were going to be sick but after a minute her sour face smoothed out and she sighed in relief.

    "Works fast," Fritz said, somewhat impressed.

    "It does," she agreed.

    "Valuable?" He asked, shuffling closer.

    Lauren held out her hand and tilted it this way and that. "Could be, they''re not potions, so their effects are mild in comparison. Though every small advantage can tip the balance between triumph and torment. Or so they say."

    "Who''s they? I''ve heard that sentiment. Though I haven''t heard that particular line before," Fritz asked.

    "And here I thought you were well-read in faerie tales," Lauren teased. "Though I believe it came from a rare book, not something a gutter-thief could get his hand on easily."

    "True as the rain," Fritz agreed. "My educations and entertainments, alas, were stalled. Replaced with scraping and surviving."

    A hint of pity entered her eyes and Fritz had to push down the sudden irrational indignation it sparked.

    "Well, the line was from the stories of the black-furred banneret, by the title character no less," she recounted, then quoted, "And thus Sir Geraldo spoke:"

    "Every lance and every stave,

    aid foe''s falls, the way is paved.

    Any boon could bridge the rent,

    between triumph, and torment."

    Fritz nearly choked when he heard the name of the black-furred banneret, irritation blooming in his chest.

    "That muddy mole?!" He burst out.

    Lauren''s brow furrowed.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    "He''s a great hare," she stated. "A brave knight and steed."

    "Yes. Of course," Fritz said quickly, covering his shock. "Never heard of him."

    "That''s the second time you''ve denied meeting a faerie," Lauren said suspiciously.

    "That just means I have never met one, and doubly so," Fritz espoused smugly.

    "Are you mocking me?" Lauren said, some heat entering her tone as her eyes flickered with embers in the dark of the cave.

    "No, sorry," Fritz said, dropping his self-satisfied smile. "Just put it out of your mind, this isn''t the time to delve into secrets. We''ll save such things for the precipice, when we get there."

    Lauren looked as though she wasn''t satisfied, though she seemed willing to let it go.

    "The precipice is it? And you''re sure I''ll join you all the way to the top?" She asked, changing the subject artfully.

    "Hah! I think I know you well enough now to say you''re one of us," Fritz espoused.

    "One of you?" she asked arching an eyebrow.

    "A madman?" Cal grumbled as he woke.

    "A madwoman, be mindful of the lady now," he chided affably. "Though I was more saying she''s a true Climber as Bert and I are. Ready to take any risk for Power and freedom."

    "A madwoman," Rosie agreed.

    "I''m not mad," Lauren stated hotly.

    "Didn''t mean no insult," Rosie said. "You''re the good kind of mad. And you got to be a little mad to Climb past your third floor anyway."

    Lauren huffed and returned to sorting the remedies into six pouches, one or two of every type into each small bag. One for them each to carry so they had them handy when needed. Rosie watched her and offered to help, which she begrudgingly agreed to.

    "Cal, my good friend," Fritz said.

    "Good friend now is it?" Cal moped.

    "What else could I call the hero who distracted the vile villain when he had me within his clutches?" He asked rhetorically, giving the man his most insufferable smirk, the one he saved mostly for Bert. "Who wept at my grave as I perished, proudly, from this plane?"

    "I think I hate you," Cal said without much heat, the corner of his lip twitching as he suppressed a smile.

    "That is merely the first step," Fritz proclaimed. "Down a great road of wealth, power and adventure!"

    As he spun up his boasting, Fritz noticed he was feeling much better, even with the burning in his arms. Though that was something he was all too used to by now. No, it felt as though a terrible weight had lifted off him after the raider''s demise, and now left him with a sense of airiness and hope he couldn''t quite describe. Like he were a bird whose clipped feathers had finally regrown.

    "I hope the second step is some breakfast," George added, seemingly feeling the same lightness that let him join in the jokes and joviality.

    "Yeah yeah," Cal, groused. It was a token effort to stay grumpy, Fritz observed. Only now did it seem that the fact that they were almost free and nearly clear begin to sink into their spirits.

    He was glad of it, they deserved a win. Nothing could have prepared them for the raider, even surviving the Sunken Spire had only given Fritz the slightest edge against his opponent. An advantage he had to leverage for all it was worth, and still only barely succeeded.

    "Go cut some wood if you want me to make something, can''t cook without a fire now can I?" Cal said.

    George obliged, always happy for an excuse to use his sword and Sever, and soon the scent of grilled crab and its fruity blood filled the cave.

    While there was cooking being done, Fritz checked on each of the team, asking them how their wounds were healing and if they felt they could walk for another day or two to the Stairway.

    "Is it that far?" Rosie whined.

    "I believe so," Fritz informed her.

    "I''m feelin'' much better, but I don''t think I could walk all day," she hedged.

    "Well, maybe Cal or Bert could carry you," Fritz offered magnanimously, as it wasn''t going to be his burden.

    "Bert please," Rosie said guilelessly, causing Cal to roll his eyes.

    "I''ll ask him once he''s awoken," Fritz said. "He shouldn''t need much sleep due to his Abilities and Attributes anyway."

    "Actually," he added, turning to Lauren as the thought occurred to him. "I''ve been meaning to ask, how does that work exactly?"

    "Hmm?" she asked distractedly, wrapping up the last of the raider''s items and storing them.

    "Sleep and Endurance," Fritz stated.

    "Ah," Lauren said, then she pitched her voice to reach the rest of the team. "The human mind needs sleep, this does not change. Though some Abilities, Traits or Strains may come close to eliminating the need for it. Without proper sleep, you will accrue a reduction to Stamina Recovery, and that''s to say nothing of the mental effects of being awake too long. That is to say: Endurance allows you to keep going and recover from effort or unaligned spell use quicker, but it does not remove the necessity of sleep."

    "Huh," Fritz said. It made a sort of sense. "You do need less of it though?"

    "Yes, a little less. Though I was taught that you''d need Endurance to be in the hundreds to start cutting off more than an hour or two without detriment. There are charts and graphs all about the ''diminishing returns'' of the Base Attributes. I never took the time to memorise them, it was all very..."

    "Boring?" Fritz supplied with a smirk.

    "Esoteric... but yes, boring," she admitted with a smile. "Very boring."

    "Yes, it''s so much better in this exciting, dank cave," Cal said while serving Lauren a skewer of crab first in a blatant show of favouritism.

    Boons of the beautiful, Fritz supposed. She took the proffered meal and began to eat.

    "Another thing," Frizz said. "I have an Ability that has a cost of Aligned or Near-aligned only. I get the gist, but is there anything else to it?"

    Lauren finished her mouthful of crab and delicately wiped away a spot of blue from the corner of her lip.

    "This is your new shadow form Ability?" She asked knowingly, having seen it in the battle beforehand. "It''s as it says, it can only use aligned, or near-aligned mana-types. So it needs to use shadow mana or any mana close to shadow like... well, I don''t know if there are any that are close. Maybe Chaos or Ruin? The Ability also can no longer take and convert Stamina or your own body to what it needs, which makes your magic attribute very important. As without mana, no Ability."

    "Oh," Fritz said, stifling a gulp. "That''s basically what I thought."

    He, of course, had thought no such thing. He believed Umbral Phase would just cost more to use, not that he''d be unable to use it if he had no Dusksong mana left. In the heat of the battle he had felt the drain but hadn''t been able to really gauge how much had been taken. He assumed it had been something like double the cost and planned around that, not using more Gloom strikes than the very first one on the flask.

    Knowing now that, without the shadowy mana available, his phase would no longer function made him reevaluate the risk he had taken on that last strike.

    Am I an idiot? He wondered for the first time. No, of course not, you''re brave and bold, unafraid to take risks. Enviable and handsome. Only a fool in this small case, and a couple of others.

    Fritz was shaken out of his thoughts by Lauren, she was speaking.

    "It is, however, unusual that you received such an Ability so soon. Normally a power would take an ascension or two to truly change like that. If they ever changed at all."

    Fritz shrugged. "Guess I''m just fortunate."

    "Unfortunate more like. That Ability is dead in the water once you''re out of Nightwell mana," she corrected. "Which, considering it''s a defensive Power, means you''ll be dead too if it fails."

    Fritz nodded, having come to the same conclusion himself. It was a very powerful Ability, but it was limited. He''d have to choose between using his Dusksong for offence and defence, and it made the odd Attribute far more appealing than it already was. Still, there was no use complaining, it was a perfect complement to his kit, synergising extremely well with his own evasive skills and his Danger Sense.

    If he was struck with something he couldn''t sense or avoid, it would slip straight through him, presuming the attack in question couldn''t hurt shadows. Which, now that he thought of it, might not be the case with a Light or Fire Ability, or something similar. His skin crawled as he imagined such a strike tearing apart his shadow form.

    "Well, I''m sure I''ll manage," Fritz said. "I have so far."

    "Because of me," Bert grumbled opening one sleepy eye. "Can you all be quiet? I''m trying to sleep."

    "Sorry," Fritz said, which was echoed by Lauren.

    "Not you, I could listen to your voice all night," Bert flirted reflexively.

    "Thank you," Fritz said, and Lauren rolled her eyes.

    Bert scowled and turned over, pulling his blanket tight.

    "You should refill your Treasures," Lauren suggested in a whisper. She hefted the softly clinking bag of gold. "Sixty-eight triads in here. Plenty to go around."

    "Wonderful," Fritz agreed, finally getting his own crab skewer. The lazy lout Cal had served him last. Even Bert had gotten one before him and snacked down on it in three mouthfuls, then returned to his nap.

    After eating, they filled the plentiful Treasures to full capacity. It was a great relief to finally have his barrier ring restored, even if he might need it less now, another layer of defence could never be bad. All in all, the refilling took a mighty toll on their fortune, fifty nine triads were consumed by their Treasures, leaving them with only nine left.

    "I''ve never even seen so much gold," Rosie said. "And now, poof! It''s gone. Just one triad is enough to live on for a year. Seems a waste."

    "Not a waste if it keeps us alive," Fritz stated.

    "Just a shock is all," Rosie said, mulling something over in her mind.

    She was right, it was a staggering amount of wealth to just disappear.

    "We might have gotten away with only partially filling the Treasures. Though I still think it''s best to be prepared for anything. Who knows, we might just run into an Aberrant beast," Fritz said, consoling their injured purses, his own most of all.

    While they waited for Bert to get enough rest to continue on their march, Fritz and Cal took the opportunity to test out the bow and quiver. They did so just past the cave''s entrance, and Lauren joined them, wanting a go herself.

    "Thought you were going to focus on the magic," Fritz carving a target into a large tree, finding that under its golden bark its wood was a pale white.

    "I am, this is for something to do," she said with a shrug. "A bit of fun."

    "Fair," Fritz said. "Think this gold bark is worth anything?"

    "Maybe as a base for paint or dye?" Lauren proffered. "Unlikely to be too valuable. Gold isn''t worth anything without its mana value."

    Fritz silently agreed, but put a couple of hand-sized pieces of bark in a pouch anyway. You never knew when fake gold might come in handy after all.

    They took turns loosing arrows, trying to hit the crude target as best they could.

    "Do we know what Imbuements these Treasures have?" Cal asked as Fritz bent the bow.

    Trying to sabotage me! The fool, I''ll show him, Fritz grumbled inwardly, loosing the arrow he held and missing completely. Sid made this whole archery business look far easier than it actually is.

    Affecting indifference to his failed attempt at a bullseye, Fritz said, "Hmm? Imbuements?"

    "I saw the bow go black and become hard enough to survive George''s Sever," Lauren said. "I don''t know about the quiver though."

    "I think the quiver is like your personal pack Cal," Fritz said. "We''ll have to test it."

    Fritz placed the bow to the quiver then Activated it. The bow was sucked in like it was gripped by quicksand, or rather, very quicksand, plunging into the dark leather and leaving not a trace. Though the weapon had disappeared Fritz still had a sense of it inside the quiver and was able to call it back with another activation.

    "Useful, it saves having to carry it around or having to re-string it when needed," Lauren said. "Me next, if you don''t mind."

    Fritz didn''t, so he smiled and handed her both the Treasures.

    They each took turns loosing the remaining arrows, a measly eight were left. Though Lauren did have a brilliant idea and discovered that the quiver could store arrows as well as the bow.

    "Wonder why the raider didn''t though," she commented.

    "Waste of gold I suppose," Fritz said with a shrug. "If each storage and then recovery even cost only one gold that''s two triads you''re throwing away. I could understand the cost when storing the bow, but for the arrows... It couldn''t be worth it."

    "I think I agree," Lauren said.

    After all was said and done, Cal dejectedly handed the bow back to Fritz. For as much as Fritz had little talent for the bow, Cal seemed cursed. Not a single of his loosed arrows struck the tree, let alone the target.

    "Well, you''ve still got your flail," Fritz said with a commiserating smile.

    Cal sighed.

    "That''s right!" Bert called out. "You''re not a complete flail-ure."

    All three turned to see Bert''s stupid grin and near boundless energy on full display. He looked much healthier, the venom and toxins must''ve been mostly burned out of his body by his bones, blood and Vitality. They groaned at his terrible joke, while George chortled.

    "Now, when do we make like the jungle and leave?"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 36

    The red and gold canopy was wet with dew and small droplets would fall when branches waved in the gentle wind.

    "It sure is hot!" Bert said, grinning, trudging through the humid jungle.

    The team grumbled, this was the third time he''d spoken that particular truth.

    "Must you?" Fritz said, grating at the reminder of the uncomfortable heat.

    "I must," Bert replied.

    the aggravating idiot

    excessively

    "They''re something like a mango," she explained, staring up at the high branches above that bore the ''mangoes''.

    "They''re so good," Cal said between mouthfuls.

    a

    "Listen to you," Bert said. "What a good impression of Toby."

    Fritz grimaced, even if he agreed he did sound a little sullen. Bert''s own face fell when he realised who he''d brought up.

    "Who?" Rosie asked, steadying herself against a trunk.

    They stayed silent for a moment then Fritz explained, "Former crew. Traitor. Don''t worry about it, they''ll get theirs. If we ever see them again."

    "I don''t think it''ll have to come to that," Bert argued, taking a bite out of another mango.

    "They should pay," Fritz nearly growled while fuzzy anger seeped from his centre and over his skin.

    He

    bringing

    "If you want to risk being swarmed by those birds," Fritz said, motioning to the flock of colourful songbirds flittering above them.

    "Are you absolutely sure they''ll attack?" George asked. "I could take a little risk, I really like these. They''re even better than the crab."

    "Look at those beady eyes, filled with hate and malice. Believe me, I know when I see spite," Fritz said. "And those beaks and claws? They''ll tear you to pieces. Though with your armour it might not be too bad."

    inging

    CB

    Mangoes fell like rain. The whole team threw their arms above their head or attempted to dodge, but none were successful. Even Fritz, who decided to rely on his Umbral Phase, was surprised when a fruit struck him and burst on his shoulder, splashing him with juice. Apparently, falling fruit didn''t count as harm. He should''ve known as much when his Danger Sense didn''t warn him.

    The small birds screeched in fury, their songs bent into indignant outrage rather than simple scorn. They swooped through the air but none were willing to soar lower than nine feet from the ground. Small, vivid feathers floated down from the tempest of tweets and tearing talons. The bright plumage alighted, then stuck, on the juice-drenched team.

    They stared around at each other, patches of blue and green feathers adorning their hair and shoulders. Then all eyes turned to Bert, who gave their accusatory glares a weak, abashed smile.

    "Whoops."

    Suddenly a dam broke and they all roared into laughter. Rosie fell to her knees shrieking while Cal steadied himself against a tree, holding his chest. George sat while rumbling out a guffaw, while Lauren struggled to contain her own cackle.

    "You fool, Bert!" Fritz laughed. "You absolute idiot."

    "Idiot!" Rosie cried.

    "Fool!" Lauren agreed through giggles.

    The team''s riotous mirth lasted for near on a minute.

    "We look ridiculous," Lauren bemoaned as the laughter finally died down. "And I''m sticky."

    "Agreed," Fritz said, picking feathers off of his shoulder. "We''ll have to find a stream or creek to wash in."

    "Or it could rain," Bert stated. "That''d get all this stuff off of us."

    "Oh, don''t tempt the Spire with talk like that," Fritz said, slapping his friend on the back. "Let''s get moving, pick up any mangoes you want but do it within three minutes. We can''t stand around forever, we have a Stairway to seek."

    The team obeyed, quickly scavenging the least bruised of the fallen fruits.

    Before the three minutes had passed they were moving again, plunging through the jungle as Fritz periodically pulsed his Awareness. As they walked, the scattered glimpses of sky overhead darkened, clear blue shifting into cloudy grey. Fritz cursed Bert under his breath as the all too familiar sound of rain began to pitter, then patter, then pour. They were drenched completely within minutes, and in only an hour the rain''s intensity was at a gutter flooding level.

    deadly

    An apology on both sides was necessary, but how did he do it while retaining his stature and pride as a wise and wonderful leader? He supposed he''d have to work it out. He had the time.

    Rosie slipped a couple of times and began to lag behind, slowing their trek. And true to his word, Fritz asked Bert to carry her on his back. He grumbled only a little, but soon the tired woman clung to him as he strode forward. She seemed to enjoy the march much more from then on.

    K

    ar

    "We need to talk," Fritz said.

    this

    "What about?"

    "About what happened in the cave," Fritz explained.

    ein

    Cal nodded. "You have a sister too?"

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    "You don''t want me to leave?" Cal asked. "Your not going to banish me from the team?"

    W

    Cal began to blush. Though Fritz knew any team would desperately want a Hauler support, be they brave or not. But he couldn''t just let the man leave, it might force them to face the spite or take on an even worse team member.

    Y

    Cal nodded considering his words.

    "I''ll think on it," Cal said.

    "You do that," Fritz said. "Talk to Rosie about it."

    Cal took his leave, sitting next to his sister and contemplating.

    hambition

    After they ate they slept, even as the rain endlessly fell. It was just like home, though he had to admit the food was better, and he didn''t miss the skulg either.

    The next day passed uneventfully, though the rain did ease somewhat, making their travel quicker. Within three hours of their waking they ''stumbled'' upon the Stairway. A knot of tall trees, all their branches and roots braided together in a chaotic jumble. There, in a particularly large hole in the tangle, were some stone steps up. Leading, as they always did, to the next Well.

    "Before we go up, we need to speak," Fritz said to his expectant, anxious team.

    "Can''t we do it after Rosie''s been healed by the Well?" Cal asked.

    "Cal, I''ll be okay, another couple of minutes won''t do me no harm," Rosie said.

    "Fine, but I want to be out of this rain," Cal grumbled.

    "Is there a reason you don''t want to go in just yet?" Lauren asked.

    SF

    "And?" Lauren said pushing a lock of wet hair from her face.

    "And, it''ll likely be crowded. I don''t want to be overheard," Fritz explained.

    "Overheard?" George echoed.

    "I don''t want to spread the word that we killed, no, defended ourselves, from a Krakosi raider," Fritz said.

    "Why?" Cal said shuffling from foot to foot.

    "Well, for one, we don''t want rumours of his death at our hands to be spread to the team he left outside the Spire," Fritz explained patiently. "For two I don''t want this badge to be ''confiscated'' or reported as being in our possession."

    "But why?" Cal whined.

    "Because I don''t want to be hunted down again," Fritz said, exasperated. "And if they come for me they might come for the whole team."

    "Fine, we stay quiet on the raider," Lauren agreed quickly. "Anything else?"

    "Just keep your cards close to your chest. No one needs to know how quickly we Climbed or any of our Abilities. Feel free to disclose your own, but the rest of the team''s are theirs to share," Fritz said.

    C

    "It was more for Cal and Rosie," Fritz said.

    "And me," Bert added.

    "And Bert," Fritz agreed, though he didn''t fear that at all.

    Bert had a way of lying straight to your face. He would seem guileless, but under that exaggerated thrill seeker persona he was as cunning and keen as they come. Anyone who took him for the idiot he portrayed himself as was just falling into his trap. Though Fritz had to admit, not all of his reckless abandon was an act.

    "There are codes?" Rosie asked.

    "Like laws?" Cal questioned.

    "They''re more like guidelines," Fritz said. "Or common sense, if there were such a thing."

    "Keep your team''s secrets. No romance. No theft or Treasure hoarding. Fill your Role properly. Stuff like that, there''s no exhaustive list," Lauren helped explain. "All things that could cause friction, discontent or resentment in the team."

    "Oh," Rosie said. "Seems smart. ''Cept for the romance, I could do with some of that."

    "Oh Gods, please no, Rosie, don''t say that," Cal groaned.

    "What? Nothin'' wrong with wanting a little fun," Rosie said eyeing up Bert, then George, then Fritz.

    shamelessness

    "Not cheap. Free," Rosie said, grinning wide and shrugging off another soft slap.

    "Stooop," Cal groaned further, covering his ears as his face became a mask of horror and disgust.

    "Focus, people," Fritz said, only a little perturbed by the undignified conversation.

    The team settled down and he continued speaking.

    "You all understand then? Say nothing of the raider or how swiftly we Climbed. Add a day or two when asked, say we''ve been at this for eight or nine days."

    The team nodded their agreements, glancing at the Stairway and wanting to be out of the rain.

    "It''s too bad we won''t be able to ask anyone about how the Krakosi managed to track us through so many floors, I thought they locked or reset behind us," Lauren said.

    "Some Floors could, though remember we''re only six instead of nine. And the minimum number of allowed Climbers is nine while the maximum may be more. It''s likely that the Floors we went through didn''t lock behind us," Fritz theorised.

    "Plausible," Lauren allowed. "Still difficult."

    "Still difficult," Fritz agreed.

    "He was Krakosi, maybe there''s a hunter Spire or something out there in the Countless Isles," George said.

    It seemed likely.

    "More likely a dumb, arsehole Spire," Bert countered, which got a laugh.

    "Well, let''s get to it, I''m sure you lot are looking forward to your next Abilities. Oh, and if you can Rosie, Bert, try and guide the Well''s healing magic toward the areas affected by the bittersteel dagger," Fritz said as the thought came to him.

    "How do you do that?" Rosie asked before Bert could.

    le

    Still, Rosie looked hopeful, but Bert merely shrugged, he looked mostly fine already.

    "Guiding mana?" Lauren said sharply.

    e on

    shape

    ef

    "Lucky," she repeated. "It''s one of the premier spell caster Attributes along with Intensity and Persistence. It''s much sought after in both Traits and Paths."

    However,

    T

    "Ouch!" Fritz said, clutching his heart as if struck by an arrow.

    "How many bloody Advanced Attributes do you even have, it''s like you''re cheating," Cal grumbled.

    "Now, now. You can''t cheat the Spires, you know that. Everything I got I earned through blood, sweat and tears," Fritz stated with great self-satisfaction, straightening his back and tilting his chin upwards.

    "I know you''re right about the Spires. But somehow, even when you say something true, it comes off as a lie," Cal groused. "I still barely believe you beat the raider, and I saw that with my own two eyes."

    beast.

    There was a moment of appreciation and consideration at the end of his sudden speech. But the silence was soon broken by Bert.

    "Come on, we can talk about that when we''re out of the rain," he said, striding up the Stairway.

    Fritz smirked and shrugged, then followed after him, leaving the rest as they stood around startled by the quick changes of pace.

    Gotta keep ''em on their toes, hey Bert?

    Fritz quickly caught up with Bert, striding beside him for a moment before his friend glanced then grinned at him and sped up his steps. Fritz matched him, and he sped up again. In moments they were racing up the stone stairs until they ran out into the Well room. They slid to a stop on the scaled stone and took in the sixth Well.

    This room was large, larger than even the landing floor, and made of that same scaled stone. In the centre was the Well, this one literal, just a cylinder of scaled stone containing glowing water. Crowding the room a series of tents of differing makes, colours and materials were scattered around.

    Though the most eye-catching of these temporary shelters, and taking up a considerable portion of the leftmost side of the circular room, was a silken pavilion of red and gold emblazoned with the symbol of the Empire. A tall white spire on a background of red and encircled in a ring of gold.

    Panting and suddenly aware of all the stares of the Climbers around them, Fritz and Bert scanned their fellows and other surroundings. There were three other obvious teams as well as well as others who seemed aligned with the Guides Guild according to their displayed heraldry.

    The first of the groups seemed to be experienced foreign Climbers, likely Ceph members. Their gear was well maintained if exotic or simply strange in appearance or material. They wielded long curved swords, enormous mauls or axes, and wore odd armours of silk, wood or bright metals. Even one that looked like plates of stone tied together by cord.

    C

    equipment

    Fritz nearly jumped, when one of the nearby local Climbers spoke, a loud rough voice breaking the hush that had come over the room when they had entered.

    "Alright?" The man asked. "You know monsters can''t follow you right?"

    Fritz turned to the speaker. The man was grizzled, a scar crossing his cheek and chin, forming a white line in his short brown beard. He wore grey leathers, a Rainsteel breastplate and a long coat of black scales over the top. At his side in a black scabbard was a longsword that looked to be made of glass.

    "Of course, we''re just somewhat injured as you can see," Fritz explained holding up his tortured arms. "Wanted to get healed as quick as may be."

    h

    Fritz nodded gratefully and continued forward with Bert. None barred their path and some would give small waves or nods of acknowledgement as they passed by. In fact, most of the Climbers moved aside, careful to open the way to the newly arrived team. There must be some reason for their caution but Fritz put it out of his mind for now.

    S

    Thankful that his team were safe and had arrived he placed a hand on the well''s stone and drew the cool power from within it. It rushed into him, and he guided the energies to his arms, making sure to soak the cuts as thoroughly as he could in the healing magics. It worked, somewhat. His skin''s colour improved and the burning receded as if soothed by cold water. And although the long, shallow slices on his arms didn''t close completely, the scabs were now more reddish than greenish, which had to be an improvement. He hoped.

    P

    "Feels good to be healed," he said, flexing.

    Rosie was there next, her face frowning in concentration as she tried to do as he said and guide the energies. She sagged and ground her teeth in frustration. Apparently, it hadn''t worked.

    Better

    "Better," she said. "But still achy and weak."

    Cal seemed saddened by the words, but was next in absorbing the Power within the Well.

    "You should dive into your Sanctum, see what you''re offered. Maybe it''ll help," Fritz suggested.

    She nodded and sat, plunging into the depths of her centre. Cal soon did the same.

    George and Lauren joined the team after some moments and soon they too were sitting and falling into their Sanctums.

    With the last of his team around him and no monsters or raiders on the horizon, in the safety of the Well room, Fritz finally relaxed.

    He contemplated aligning his own recently gained Attributes but decided against it for now. Instead, he sat on the lip of the well and glanced around the room and the Climbers, many of whom had gone right back to what they were doing. They had been eating, talking, reading, playing cards, sparring, or just taking a rest as he was.

    Fritz sighed.

    Safe, for now.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 37

    Breathing slowly, calmly, Fritz gazed around the Well room while his team chose their new Abilities. This time he carefully scanned and took in all the things he had missed before.

    While the circular stone room was filled with tents, wooden chairs and tables, there was also a two-storied structure of white stone and wood beams with an orange tiled roof. It didn''t belong and was incongruent in the extreme. He wondered for a moment how he had missed it in his first search of the area. But he soon realised why. Fritz didn''t want to see it or acknowledge its presence, due to the familiar black and yellow banners hanging over its door and from its windows that marked it as a part of the Guides Guild.

    It likely held a store, replete with information and potions, know-notes or other Treasures and useful items for sale. Maybe it was the strangeness of seeing a well-built house in a Well room or maybe it was just Fritz''s own bitter grudge, but somehow this outpost felt even more wrong than the landing floor shop. He wanted to tear it down brick by brick, then break those white bricks with a hammer. Pry away that revolting wooden door-frame, and burn it. Purge the parasitic demesne.

    He tore his eyes away from the open door, pushed away that sudden surge of hatred and continued his assessment of the rest of the room.

    This whole place had something of the air a tavern''s common room might have late in the night, if a little more guarded and a little less raucous. Though it was also a market of sorts, most voices were kept at a low volume, loud guffaws or outbursts being glared upon by the other Climbers or the Guides Guildsmen. It seemed that making trouble was frowned upon.

    And thinking of trouble, he wondered why everyone had stood away from them as they made their way to the Well. Something to ask someone. He didn''t have to look too long to find that someone, in fact, he didn''t have to look at all.

    "All recovered," the man in the black-scale coat asked. He looked to be in his thirties, rough thirties and had a short brown beard and hair parted with a few long scars.

    "Almost," Fritz said, displaying his scored and slashed forearms.

    The man grimaced. "Must''ve been something nasty, not many monsters in the Mer Spire should leave you so wounded after healing. Unless you were bothering some poisonous eels," he added, gauging Fritz''s response to his subtle probing.

    "Nothing of the sort," Bert interrupted. "Sure, we did bother some eels, but they were clearblood eels."

    "Clearblood, a lucky find," the man said, impressed and obviously a little jealous. His face then fell into a scowl, obviously chiding himself for his actions so far.

    He held out a hand. "Where are my manners? Must''ve left them on the last Floor. The name is Dayn."

    Bert took it and shook it, and Fritz followed each giving their names in return.

    "New to the Mer Spire?" he Dayn asked.

    They nodded.

    "Done well for a first time, without a Guide and all," he casually continued.

    "We''re lucky," Bert said grinning.

    The man grunted and nodded.

    "Good. Looks like you guys know not to blab about everything you find to the first person you meet."

    "Not without a few drinks at least," Bert said, getting a chuckle out of the man.

    "Just warning you before the Guides cheat you. Knowledge is gold, and the Guides guard both, we should too. And we Rainfolk should work together," he said grimly.

    Fritz and Bert nodded.

    "Speaking of knowledge. Was there a reason everyone stood back from us as we entered?" Fritz asked.

    "Mhm." Dayn cleared his throat. "Yeah. If you get in the way of someone claiming the Power of the Well, that they rightfully earned, then it will be seen as an attack by the Spire. It''ll throw you out and chuck the spite on you for good measure. And if that happens you''re better off Climbing a new Spire until the next Tolling."

    "Next Tolling?" Bert asked. "Why then?"

    "Well, it''s like a big reset for all the Spires, all at once," he explained.

    "Is it the same at the other Wells?" Fritz asked, knowing fully well the answer was no, but pretending to be ignorant to keep the man''s suspicions at bay.

    "Nah. I heard of many a Climbing team being ambushed or robbed in a Well room, it''s just the sixths Floors, and the Precipice, that''s different."

    "Sixths Floors? Like multiples of six? Twelfth and eighteenth and so on?" Bert asked, flabbergasting Fritz with the mention of multiples. He hid his surprise well and Dayn nodded, confirming Bert''s question.

    "And precipices are also different?" Fritz said.

    "Mhm. Each one is separate, no need to worry about others or intruders. Though I have heard that the king-" Dayn cut his words short as he saw a Guide, decked out in his yellow reversible coat, step out from the building and glare directly at them. There was a burning fury in those keen eyes aimed at Dayn. A not-so-subtle warning to shut up. He shuffled, then rolled his shoulders, turning his back on the Guide. He looked disgruntled but afraid, or at least unwilling, to cross the Guides Guild.

    "Anyway, I didn''t mean to bother you for too long. If you got anything good to trade, which it looks like you do, come see my team. We''ll be far fairer than the foreigners or the nobles," Dayn said, then added in a low whisper. "Or those gouging Guide bastards."

    "Thanks for the help," Fritz said with a genuine smile.

    "One last thing," Dayn said. "Guard your things. If it''s not on your person it doesn''t count as yours and it won''t count as an attack if someone tries to steal or destroy it."

    "Destroy?" Bert said.

    "It happens. Piss off a petty Climber and you might end up with a ripped tent or bags. You might want to be careful."

    "I don''t think we''ll be at risk of that. We don''t seek to make enemies here," Fritz claimed.

    "Sometimes, the enemies seek you," Dayn said, meaningfully glancing around the Well room.

    On those ominous words, they shook hands again before the man left to report to his own team.

    Fritz shivered, the warning resonating in his chest. He scanned the area, his sight alighting on the Guide still watching them. As they locked eyes, the Guide disappeared. The yellow vanished in the blink, leaving behind only an empty doorway. Was it actually empty? Something tried to tell him it both was and wasn''t and he felt a burst of vertigo. Fritz looked away.

    "Not a bad sort," Fritz stated, picking up where he and Bert had let off, pretending not to be perturbed.

    "I agree. I liked him," Bert said, noticing, but not commenting on, Fritz''s discomfort.

    One by one his team came up from their Sanctums, and when they had all surfaced to the real world Fritz announced, "We should set up somewhere to camp here, we can spend a day to relax and get some knowledge on the Doors, or trade Treasures and valuables."

    They agreed, and wanting to be as far away from both the red and gold Empire silk pavilion and the Guide house, they picked a small area between both where they could place their things.

    "Why don''t we have tents?" Cal groused.

    "Because we''re poor. And I didn''t want to carry them, or force you to, Cal," Fritz said offhandedly. "Be thankful, you''ve had to haul far less than you ought. I''ve basically spoiled you."

    Cal frowned and Fritz smirked.

    "What do you even want a tent for? Don''t you love sleeping in the open air?" Bert joined in.

    "No, I want some privacy, and some quiet," Cal groused, though Fritz could see he wasn''t truly frustrated as he had been on the last Floor.

    "Privacy!?" Bert blurted. "What so you can have some romance like your sister craves!?"

    "Gods! Don''t say sister and craves in the same breath," Cal groaned.

    "As much as it pains me to say, I have to agree with Cal on this one, Bert," Fritz said, his face scrunching as though he had taken a bite out of a lime.

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    "Can you three cease your bickering," Lauren said, glancing around and seemingly embarrassed at the stares and smiles of the others within earshot.

    Fritz soon realised that they had been causing quite the ruckus.

    One of the men in the small group of young nobles loitering outside the Empire pavilion stared on bemusedly. He was blonde, pale blonde, his hair cut in one of the sorter styles that was currently in fashion. The man was of average, maybe athletic, build and had a clean-shaven face and steely grey eyes. His clothes marked him out as wealthy and high-born, fine silk in blues and silvers. Apparently, he was forgoing armour whilst in the safety of the Well room, opting for comfort instead.

    He was the picture of peerage and privilege, handsome, smirking and arrogant. The only thing he was missing was the tell-tale signs of the Merfolk strain. Likely that was why he and the other nobles were here, climbing the Mer Spire to gain that boon at the precipice, since he had obviously not been offered it at the third Well. It must''ve been a great frustration to this man, or perhaps that lurking resentment was aimed at something else. Either way, Fritz could see a deep bitterness bubbling beneath his bearing and an entrenched self-entitlement etched behind his eyes.

    Fritz took an instant disliking to the man and his false sense of superiority.

    The noble''s eyes drifted to Quicksilver''s hilt then to Fritz''s face, meeting his gaze and holding it. Fritz had the distinct impression he had met the man before, though in another time, another place, when they were both children, at one extravagant event or another. Apparently, the other man felt the same as a ripple of remote recognition flew over his features and a slight frown alighted on his brow.

    He said a few words to his companions, and strode toward where Fritz was standing. The man kept his sure smile, the one all nobility wore, so certain in their excellence and exalted power. Fritz mirrored the smile, though he forged his one sharper, more jagged, just like the edge of Quicksilver.

    "Have we met? You look familiar," the nobleman asked.

    "Unlikely, lord," Fritz said, still figuring out how to navigate this particular encounter. This must be the son of some one fairly important by the way he carried himself. Though that wasn''t saying much, every one was important compared to Fritz and his team.

    "Please, the lord is my father. You may address me as Lloyd."

    Fritz was somewhat confused at the man''s approach and immediate, affable familiarity. Though he would never dare show it.

    "Of course, Lloyd," Fritz said with a smile and a small bow.

    Lloyd frowned, obviously not impressed with the slight amount of deference Fritz afforded him. Clearly he wanted more.

    "Lloyd Whiteship," he stated as if Fritz should already know who he was.

    Oh. A duke''s son.

    Then the realisation hit him like a falling rafter.

    The duke that I burgled. Who''s heraldry is still stitched into my undergarments.

    Fritz almost burst out into laughter, but covered it with a cough and a deeper bow.

    "I''m terribly sorry, I didn''t recognise you," Fritz said.

    They stood in silence for a moment before Lloyd said, "And you are?"

    "Oh, right," Fritz sputtered, feigning flusterment. "I''m-"

    Before he could give out a false name and house, another of the nobles had joined them and interrupted.

    "By the sorry look of him, he''s one of the Hightides," the new man said. "Likely the eldest. There are two of them. I believe he has a brother, though he''d still be too young to Climb if my recollection serves me well."

    This new noble was shorter and stockier than both Fritz and Lloyd. His hair was dark blond and he had keen brown eyes. He had the beginnings of a second chin, and underneath it a thick golden necklace with a gaudy ruby pendant that shimmered with an inner glow.

    "And here I thought I knew all the noblefolk of Rain City," Lloyd said. "It seems I was mistaken, I''ve never heard of any prominent Hightides."

    "That''s because there are none," the new noble explained dismissively. "They''re a defunct House, most of their holdings have been parcelled out a decade ago, in recompense for the damages they have sown. And what little is left is held in trust."

    "Damages? Pray do tell, Charles," Lloyd asked, seemingly interested, but watching Fritz like a hawk for any reaction.

    "Oh, you know the debacle. It was quite the uproar, though it was before our time," the other noble, Charles, drawled. "The Hightide Guide, who disappeared with both a scion of the royal family and the heir to house Wavesreach. Leaving the other six of his team to fend for themselves, only two of which made it out of the Rain Spire alive."

    Was that actually what had happened? Fritz had been young, too young, when that tragedy struck, and then there was the pillaging of his his estate, and subsequent brutal orphaning of himself and his siblings. A terrible death after a tragic disappearance. Fritz had only heard rumours and even then they didn''t say nearly as much about the original disaster.

    "Oh my!" Lloyd exclaimed, breaking Fritz from his stunned, stewing silence. "I have indeed heard of that. I believe the princess lost her dear older brother to that incident."

    "You are correct, it was an incredibly embarrassing catastrophe. For both the King and the Guides," Charles intoned scathingly, his lips turning up in disgust and looking upon Fritz as if he were a skulg. "Honestly, I''m surprised one of you Hightides would have the gall to show your wretched faces before us."

    Fritz''s stomach roiled with fury, and it took all of his control not to draw Quicksilver and gut the pompous man. He clenched his fists and jaw, sealing away his words and anger. Were they trying to bait him into attacking them or was this the classic social posturing the nobles engaged in? He couldn''t tell but he hated them nonetheless.

    "Gall?" Bert asked slipping into the conversation. "If it''s one thing Fritz has its gall. More than one of them! You''ve got a lot of galls. That''s what they say to him."

    The nobles'' sharp eyes turned to Bert, weighed him, then dismissed him as a commoner and therefore inconsequential.

    "Your servant is awfully rude. And dreadfully dull. You should take care of that. Perhaps get a new one that''s less ugly and has more sense," Charles said. "Though really, it''s probably the best help you can get. What can we really expect from a house that has sunk so low?"

    "Come now, Charles," Lloyd said affably, his eyes glittering with amusement. "We''re all Climbers here. You know. Equals."

    The way Lloyd smirked and said that last word made it entirely too obvious he didn''t mean it. That he was mocking them and they couldn''t do a thing about it.

    "Equals is it?" Fritz said, affecting disinterest. "I suppose we are equally unworthy of the Empire''s grace. That is why you loiter outside that branded tent, no? Not allowed inside? Unwanted? Unneeded?"

    Charles''s smirking expression fell into a calculating blandness. Lloyd''s friendly facade flickered for only a moment, but Fritz could see a spark of fury in his grey eyes.

    "Like muddy hounds not allowed in the house," Bert added, casting his own fuel to the flame.

    That curdled Lloyd''s smile, while Charles''s face reddened. It seemed they had struck a sore spot. Though before they could begin to trade insults in earnest, a well-dressed, strikingly lovely lady stepped out from the silk pavilion. She got caught up in its door flap for a moment before extricating herself, stepping forward and stumbling a little. She steadied herself, smoothed her exquisite, form-flattering dress of shimmering green, and scanned the area.

    The lady came forward, and pushing a lock of gold hair from her flushed face, called out, "Charlie. I mean Sir Seavine! The Prince requests another bottle of your family''s esteemed wine."

    "He''s not a real Prince. So what if he''s the great nephew of the Emperor," Charles growled under his breath, before turning and greeting the lady with a genial smile.

    "Lady Alice Blackbridge. It would be my pleasure to provide the Prince with more wine. Shall I present it myself?" He asked eagerly.

    "No, that''s quite alright. He''s very... content with our company. And he doesn''t want it to get too crowded," she answered smiling slyly and holding out her hand as if the man had a bottle on him.

    Charles''s smile was strained, but he obliged, retrieving a dark bottle from a too-small pouch attached to his belt and handing it to her with a small bow.

    She took it and sauntered off, back into the tent, where the faint sound of talk, the clinking of glasses and giggling emanated, before being cut off when the door flap closed again.

    "Wow, she was lovely," someone whispered from behind Fritz, to his slight surprise it was Lauren.

    He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged, giving him a small smile. "I like her dress."

    "And who is this fine lady," Lloyd said, noticing her for the first time. His eyes lit up with something greedy, unnerving, as he took in her obvious beauty.

    "I''m Lauren Nearshore, lord," she said, bowing deeply.

    "That''s not a house I''m familiar with," Charles interjected, looking her over with a discerning, lascivious gaze. "Though I''m sure I have heard it before."

    "I''m not of the peerage, lord, merely a humble merchant''s daughter," Lauren professed.

    "Merchant''s daughter? Nearshore. That''s right, you must be my betrothed''s sister!" He exclaimed happily. "I see it now. Under that ugly bruise, you two look quite similar. You''re both great beauties. In fact, you could be twins, and you will have to be careful, lest I mistake you for her," he chuckled.

    Lauren''s face was frozen in that polite, radiant smile, but her eyes flickered with embers.

    "And you will have to be careful, lest I mistake you for a hog and roast you," she replied prettily.

    The man was gobsmacked, then Lauren realised what she had said and horror entered her own eyes.

    Bert burst into laughter as did Cal and Rosie, who watched on. The noble didn''t take well to being mocked by commoners, especially those as rough as those three. Fritz had thought Charles''s face red before, but he had been wrong, now it was red, like the shell of a boiled lobster. His hand went to the extravagant gold hilt at his side before Lloyd caught his arm by the crook of his elbow and hissed, "Stop, sixth Well."

    Charles shook off his companion''s grip. Apparently, the Spire counted neither of the actions as attacks, and Fritz absently wondered what the criteria was to be thrown out. It obviously had something to do with intent, similar to how the Spires recognised teams as separate from each other.

    "That common whore called me a hog," Charles growled back. "My honour demands-"

    "Your honour demands that you escort the ''Prince'' as we were ''allowed'' to by the king," Lloyd said quietly. "You cannot do that if you''ve been ejected. Would you saddle the rest of us with the spite? Then the derision of the court for failing such a simple task?"

    The low, whispered words sank into Charles and his anger receded, or rather, was caged deep within. Hatred stirred in his glare as he levied it at Lauren.

    "I didn''t know the Nearshores were so vulgar. Maybe I should ask my father to reconsider our families'' arrangements for marriage," he said, tone dripping with venom. "Your sister will be devastated. I''m sure."

    Lauren, it seemed, had had enough. She straightened out of her bow and the fear left her eyes, replaced by a ring of orange light around her yellow-green irises. Lauren met his gaze with blank-faced fury.

    "Let her be devastated. I care not. Better that than being bound to a fiance as blind and as rude as a base-born, gutter-scraping beggar," she said.

    The noble was shocked at the swift change in her demeanour, Fritz himself was somewhat surprised as well. Though he wasn''t offended like the pampered man was. No, he took heart-deep delight that she was standing up to these spoilt men and getting her own sharp words in. Dusksong chimed giddily.

    "Good one!" Bert said, grinning. "Call him a squid-sucking, scab-eater next."

    Charles grasped at the air beside his sword, opening and closing his fist as he shook with barely contained rage.

    Fritz stepped sideways and stood between the bickering.

    "You''ll have to forgive my team," he said. "We''ve had a hard Climb."

    "I have to do no such thing!" Charles roared. "You cannot demand such from me! You cur of a broken house. Who''s disgrace is only equalled by your poverty."

    Fritz''s smile twitched and he had the distinct desire to run the noble through with Quicksilver, again.

    "A rich statement for someone so esteemed, yet must marry lowly merchants," Fritz said in a tone as polite as he could manage. "Are things so dire for your own house?"

    "Stop this this instant. You shame yourselves!" Lloyd ordered Fritz and his team.

    "Shame? I doubt they can even feel shame, one needs honour first. In which they are completely lacking," Charles said, regaining some of his composure as he reigned in his emotions.

    "Ah. Yes, the great honour of being the Empire Prince''s hound-hogs," Fritz said with a smirk. "I''m sure he much appreciates your protections. Matched only by the appreciation for your absence while he''s entertained by the esteemed ladies."

    Both nobles froze, their anger, which had been roiling and flickering like invisible flame, became something far colder and controlled. They looked away as if dismissing Fritz and his team from their minds.

    "Nevertheless, it is unbecoming to argue with the rabble," Lloyd said coolly.

    "You''re right, merely being in the presence of such scum is beneath me," Charles said turning and striding away.

    As the two walked away Fritz heard Lloyd''s low voice, pitched so no one could hear.

    "We can settle outside the Spire."

    Fritz relished the idea, he could absolutely humiliate them in a duel or some other confrontation. Dusksong crawled over him eagerly at the prospect. Then his stomach clenched and his blood ran cold when Charles spoke next.

    "Yes, we can. They have families."

    This would not do. Fritz clutched his fury before it took him. Pushing the screaming flame down, he reassured himself that it was idle words from idle men. That when the nobles finished their Climb and celebrated with the required balls and parties, they would forget all about the insults offered by him and his team.

    He doubted it. But he hoped all the same. And if they came for him and his family, he would pay them back three-fold, and be the ruination of their luxuriantly lived lives.

    "Well," Lauren said suddenly deflated. "That could have gone better."

    "Unlikely," Fritz said. "Nobles."

    "Think it''ll come back to bite us?" George asked, startling the team with his solid presence after having been silent the entire time.

    "Not in the Spire," Fritz said. "Though, outside, we should watch our backs."

    "Sounds like something to worry about later," Bert proclaimed. "For now, let''s check out the shop and see what we can sell for a drink or two. I could kill for a beer, if they have any. Oh, and don''t leave your stuff lying around, it could get stolen."

    George, Rosie and Cal nodded in agreement, and while Fritz didn''t want to have anything to do with the Guild he acquiesced to the idea. It wouldn''t do to avoid the Guides entirely, that was just suspicious behaviour.

    "A glass of wine wouldn''t go amiss," Lauren sighed.

    "Alas, I left my Merlot in my stash outside," Fritz bemoaned.

    "A pity," she replied.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 38

    The real pity was the prices listed by the Guides Guild. It was little more than gouging, just as Dayn had said. Everything from know-notes to rations were at least three times the price it had been on the landing. Though that was also exorbitantly overpriced.

    "Why does it all cost so much?" Rosie whined.

    "Because, intrepid Climber, we have to bring all these supplies up from the surface. And that is quite the perilous task," the clerk responded.

    "Likely because they can, and Climbers will pay it," Lauren supplied cynically.

    The clerk scowled at the remark, but soon smoothed his face and his mustard yellow coat and continued watching over the team like a storm hawk while they browsed what the Guides Guild offered.

    The storefront of the Guild had neat shelves covering the walls and a couple of glass display cases for the truly valuable items. It was similar to Lauren''s mother''s shop, save for the fact that the shelves were behind bars of brass.

    As the team were out of healing potions, that was the first thing Fritz scanned for, quickly finding them and blanching at the six hundred gold price embossed on the plaque below them.

    He went as far as taking a step back from the glass display case as if dodging an enemy''s swiping claws. The potions weren''t even high quality. He was shocked, disgusted, that the life-saving liquid was so monumentally priced over its actual value. But what did he really expect from the Guild? It was a precious resource and a death averting miracle when needed. Of course, they''d charge so much for them.

    With a sigh, he searched the rest of the display and the caged shelves around the small shopfront. Most of the items were merely magical and of limited utility or potency. Eventually, it was apparent to Fritz that the most precious Treasures and equipment were kept somewhere else in the building, likely only accessible to the nobility or the Guild itself. Fritz said as much and Lauren agreed with him.

    "Arseholes," Bert muttered loudly, much to the chagrin of the clerk.

    "Well, It''s not like we could afford any of the premium goods anyway," Lauren said.

    "What? Even with all the monster bits we grabbed?" Rosie asked.

    "Even then. That''s if they are going to give us a fair price for them," Lauren said.

    "Which you doubt?" Fritz asked, looking through some bars and at a set of dark blue silk gloves he thought might compliment his coat.

    "Which I doubt," Lauren agreed, also searching for something both within their ability to buy and actually useful.

    The fine, thin gloves were magical, or so the brass plaque professed, increasing the wearer''s grip to a minor degree.

    There was a cough from the clerk as another of the Guildsmen entered the storefront. Fritz had heard them coming but had decided to ignore them, thinking it was best he didn''t look too perceptive, especially in the Guides guild. Though he felt he had little reason to be fearful of getting uncovered, apparently, the only actual Guide on this floor was resting and already contracted to the ''prince''s'' team.

    Fritz looked up to see a woman clad in a functional, if pretty, dress the shade of pale butter. She was plain-faced, though cute, and had light, blonde hair that hung past her shoulders. Smiling, her soft blue eyes glided over them and keenly catalogued their gear and the obvious Treasures they wore.

    "Greetings, my name is Sapphire. I have been informed you desire an appraiser," she said in a sweet tone.

    "Correct," Lauren said slipping into the bored business-like tone she had used when Fritz had met her. She glanced over the woman, taking in her flowery jewellery and short, painted nails, seemingly sizing her up. Lauren must have seen something interesting because she smiled.

    "I take it you''re the Captain of this team?" Sapphire asked.

    "No, but I''ve been asked to negotiate," Lauren replied, her boredom replaced with warm attention. "And I''m not regretting taking on that task."

    Fritz thought was an odd change of demeanour, but assumed it was likely that Lauren had been missing the company of the more polite or feminine kind. He could hardly blame her, it had taken him years to become accustomed to the coarseness of character Bert, and now he himself, exhibited. And even then it still grated.

    "A task is it? Hopefully, it won''t be too much of a burden," Sapphire said, her eyes seemingly glued to Lauren''s face. Concern kindled in her gaze as it alighted on the mostly healed bruise.

    "I''m sure some bartering with a woman of your fine taste will be a delight, not a burden," Lauren said.

    "And how can you be so sure as to my taste?" The appraiser asked playfully.

    Lauren merely smiled, her eyes dancing with embers. The clerk coughed again, and startled the two out of their prolonged staring.

    "We have a room we use for determining the value of the Treasures and materials you have acquired, this way, if you please," Sapphire said, turning and stepping through a door behind her.

    "Can I come too?" Cal asked quickly. "I''d like to learn how to do that merchant thing."

    Lauren gave him a withering glance, as though he were a hound that had rolled in something foul and now wanted to be let into the house.

    "Fine," she allowed, with a sigh. "I need you to carry the bags anyway. Get the lobster eyes, the lizard horns and claws. Oh, and the clearblood eels. Leave the venom though, we want to keep that, it won''t go bad and it might be useful."

    "Thank you," he said abashedly to her turning back. She followed the appraiser, leaving him to collect the various materials she''d outlined.

    When she was out of earshot and he had gathered the bags and sacks, as she had requested, Cal asked, "See the way she glared? What was that about?"

    Fritz couldn''t help but smirk, even if he didn''t fully understand it himself.

    "It''s a mystery," he intoned.

    Bert shook his head and sighed while Cal left.

    Fritz had decided on not joining in the appraisal, trusting Lauren to get them the best deal. It was a show of confidence in her judgement, and it wasn''t really a risk. He also knew she wouldn''t cheat them or cut a deal with the Guides. After all, it was her gold too.

    They had also decided on keeping all the Treasures, at least until they were outside the Spire. There was no point selling or trading what could be useful unless they got something that gave them a considerable advantage in return. Especially seeing as the prices were as bad as had been rumoured. Worse even.

    Fritz grimaced and shadowed his way to Bert where he stood staring at some belts. However, when he looked closer he saw that they were of different colours, materials and sizes. Some were even small enough to be wristbands. That''s when he realised that they were not belts but rather collars. Collars for beast companions.

    "An odd interest," Fritz said, revealing his presence.

    Bert barely jumped, then stared at him blank-faced. "It''s a bedroom thing. You wouldn''t get it."

    "Don''t know why you''d want a beast in your bedroom. I can''t condone such a thing," Fritz chided, smirking.

    "I''m the beast," Bert said in that same bland way.

    "So it''s for you?"

    "No."

    Fritz sighed, this was part of Bert''s ill-kept secret, all the pieces were starting to fall into place. If Bert thought he was fooling him, he was dead wrong. Though it wasn''t in Fritz''s nature to ruin his friend''s big ''surprise'' to the others, so he''d keep quiet, for now. That and Bert might not be offered whatever Trait or Ability he was looking for. A companion Power might even be reserved for the generally more powerful Traits or Path Abilities.

    "So you''re keen on taming a beast companion?" Fritz asked.

    "No. Why do you ask?" Bert said, furtively. "Are you jealous?"

    Fritz graced that accusation with all the respect it deserved, which was none, and ignored it.

    "Though I do wonder what terrible monster you plan on chaining to your cause," Fritz continued.

    "We''ll be best friends," Bert argued. "Closer than blood brothers."

    Fritz scoffed. His friend was just saying that to rile him up, he couldn''t be replaced by a beast.

    "What are you looking at?" Cal asked, back from the negotiations.

    "Hmm, just browsing," Fritz said. "You came back quickly. Did you ask too many questions and were then promptly banished?" He guessed from the man''s somewhat dejected demeanour.

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    Cal nodded, then added, "I don''t think they wanted me there, but Lauren also said that she''d teach me the basics later."

    "Lucky you," Bert said, slapping the man on the back. "Even if I think it''s a waste for you to become a merchant. Just stick with us, be our luggage lad. We''ll treat you well, and pay you in grapes."

    "Grapes?" Cal asked, completely confused.

    "Grapes," Bert confirmed.

    "What?" Cal said.

    "Why?" Fritz asked.

    "Not why. Wine. But that comes later. After the grapes have been squeezed and aged," Bert concluded.

    Cal blinked slowly and Fritz smiled blandly. It was a classic ploy to distract via confounding.

    "But enough about that, see anything you like?" Bert asked.

    "It all costs too many triads," Cal hedged. "We have, what, nine gold? Barely enough to get one Know-note up here. Seems like a lot."

    "Yes, we''ve noticed," Fritz said. "Likely trying to trick us into trading away our precious Treasures for healing potions or other necessities."

    "I''ll stick with my flail then," Cal said, patting the weapon tucked into his belt.

    "What if we want to trade away our Treasures," Rosie said, joining in their impromptu huddle in the corner of the store. "This ring is bad." she added holding up a hand and displaying the coral loop around her index finger.

    "Oh. I''d forgotten all about that ring," Fritz said. "You''ll still get a better price down of the surface. Or you could leave this dangerous life behind, become a fisherman and never have to Climb again."

    Rosie scowled, as annoyed as he''d ever seen her. "I like Climbing, you get somethin'' for taking risks and facin'' danger. Unlike the gutters where it''s only struggling for nothin''."

    "An astute observation, Rosie," Fritz said. "Did you align more to Awareness?"

    "Nah. All Durability all the way," she said proudly. "Also got a Passive Ability called Ruinous Resistance. So my cut has been feelin'' much better."

    "A fortunate offering," Fritz remarked.

    "Not really. Had to get stabbed for it."

    "Huh, I got a selection of Actives," Cal said. "I took Guided Toss."

    "Well that will be very useful when packing a long wagon," Bert said.

    "Or perhaps felling a foe with a thrown stone," Fritz corrected.

    "Are we talking about Abilities? I thought that was for later," George said.

    "It is. Next floor when we''re not so surrounded," Fritz said.

    "If we keep Climbing," Cal said.

    "We''re not?" Rosie asked with a frown.

    Cal seemed conflicted for a moment before he was saved by the lively voices of Lauren and Sapphire.

    They came from the appraisal room laughing and chatting. Lauren spotted the team, huddled suspiciously as they were, and quickly said her goodbyes to the lady beside her with a hasty promise they''d see each other later. And she meant it. Lauren strode to them, waving at George to make room.

    "Why are you all lurking in this corner?" She hissed. "You better not be planning a heist, because that will go badly."

    "What?" Bert whispered, false outrage evident. "Just because we''re thieves doesn''t mean we''re going to burgle the place...but what would happen if we did?"

    "You would trigger the wards, which are ingeniously linked to the Guildsmen here and would burn them slightly."

    "Which would be an attack, and kick us out of the Spire," Fritz finished for her, following the logic.

    "Correct," Lauren said.

    Surreptitiously Bert stopped leaning on the barred shelves.

    "How much did you get for the materials?"

    "Let''s get out of here before we start discussing the details," she suggested. "It''s too crowded."

    The party readily agreed and regrouped at the space outside they had claimed. They set down the gear they had been lugging around the whole time, unwilling as they were to trust the other Climbers in the Well room.

    Sitting in a circle Lauren resumed their previous conversation, in a low, quiet tone.

    "I got about two-thirds of what we might have on the surface, the lobster eyes were worth around three to four silver a pair while the claws and horns were worth far more at around ten gold according to length."

    "Make''s sense they were a bastard and a half to carry," Bert complained.

    "I was the one carrying most of them," Cal complained harder. "My shoulders are still sore, even with the healing from the Well."

    "That means you''ll likely grow some real muscles, and join me and George in the bulky bachelor crew," Bert said.

    "Wait, why am I excluded?" Fritz asked as if his honour had been impugned.

    "Are you a bulky bachelor?" Bert asked condescendingly.

    "I''m well on my way," Fritz protested.

    Bert sighed and shook his head, putting a hand on Fritz''s shoulder.

    "At least you have hope. That''s the important thing."

    "Then there were the eels, they weren''t as fresh as they could be, but I was able to get a gold for each of them," Lauren interrupted, continuing her report while rolling her eyes.

    "We''re rich then?" Rosie asked.

    "Somewhat, the total came out to eighty-four gold," Lauren replied shaking the clinking pouch with a pleased, if tired, smile.

    "That much?" Rosie squeaked.

    "More than we spent refilling our Treasures, a great haul," Bert said.

    "How do we split it?" Cal asked nervously.

    "That is the question isn''t it," Fritz said. "With a few answers, depending on who''s continuing to the precipice with Bert and I."

    Cal nodded slowly.

    "We''d have to discuss the values of the Treasures and other materials you currently possess, including the raider''s pack," he continued. "Though why take all the pains of counting and arguing right now when we still don''t know what everyone''s intentions are."

    A quiet enclosed the group at the end of Fritz''s words, which he broke with a sudden, stern question, "Lauren, George are you willing to continue with us?"

    They seemed somewhat startled at his directness, but Lauren hefted the bag of gold in her hand. She looked at her white hide boots and she brushed her thumb over her lips, then she smiled wide and bright.

    "I will. There''s more to be gained and far more to see."

    Fritz turned his gaze to George, who was contemplating his response. Their eyes met and George smiled, then nodded slowly, stoically.

    "Rosie?" Fritz asked.

    "I''m all for it, beats the gutters any day," she stated. "And, I''m tougher than ever."

    Fritz smiled at that and slid his gaze to Cal. The last of the group to make a decision. This was, of course, on purpose. Leaving Cal for last and having everyone else''s approval first put him under a pressure of expectation. One that would be hard to ignore. It was manipulative, Fritz knew, to put the man in this position. But he could hardly countenance letting him leave with all that Treasure and gold they would have to split with him. Especially after all the suffering he and Bert had been through to carry him this high.

    Cal took his time answering, this wasn''t the same as the third floor. Too much had happened since then for him to be convinced by the begging of his sister or the pleases of the pretty. They all seemed to sense that, so they stayed quiet while he thought.

    Word of Courage might have helped here too, Fritz mused. Maybe I should take it as my Golden Seed reward. Although Treasure Sense is also a good choice. How do Golden Seeds work in that respect? Now that I have all my Ability Channels full, will it replace one of my other Passives? Or is there another way to use them?

    Fritz was broken out of his distracting thoughts when Cal sighed and shook his head slightly. He clenched his fist, steeled himself and said, "I''ll do it."

    The whole team voiced their approval with kind words. Bert, and then George, slapped Cal on the back before Rosie hugged him and he received a gentle pat on the shoulder from Lauren.

    "Wonderful! A Golden Climb for a Golden Team," Fritz said.

    The team seemed to not have remembered this fact, judging by their surprised, then elated, expressions. However, before they could chatter and cheer Fritz interrupted their small celebrations.

    "However, there is still the matter of mutinous manners. Cal, I need you to follow my orders, even if you doubt me. The same goes for all of you. I would have you all promise to obey me whilst we''re a team. I can''t Climb the rest of the way with those who don''t believe in my judgement. For if they don''t trust me how could I trust them?" Fritz channelled as much of his charm as he could into his voice and it resonated in his chest, ringing with Dusksong''s own tones.

    He could almost see his voice wash over them, enrapturing them one by one. A haziness entered their admiring, almost adoring eyes. Fritz frowned inwardly, but let none of his concern rise to his face. What was happening here? Were his words a spell? Was Dusksong''s power influencing them somehow and subverting their will?

    All their stares were wide and somewhat glazed over. All save Bert who had that same wild gleam in his amber eyes and a grin on his face. The others had relaxed features, and they smiled slightly as they prepared to give their oaths.

    Fritz couldn''t let that be, they had to promise freely, not enthralled by some strange faerie magic he didn''t understand. He clapped his hands loudly and pointed at Bert, they turned, stared, and the slightly dazed look in their eyes disappeared.

    "What?" Bert said.

    "You first," Fritz said, thankful that the subtle entrancement was so easy to break.

    "Why me?!" Bert protested. "I''m the most loyal!"

    "Because you''re second in command, you should set a good example," Fritz stated.

    "Must I?"

    "You must. Show them how it''s done, no need for fancy words."

    "Oh, Fine," Bert sighed. "I promise to follow your orders, wash your clothes, make your tea just the way you like it. I pledge my entire being to his lordship''s whims."

    "Be serious Bert, just for a moment. It wouldn''t harm your image any, for the team to see that you do actually have some sense and smarts."

    Bert grinned, then let his wide smile fall away to be replaced with a sensible, sober expression.

    "You are my captain, and I follow where you lead. I''ll obey your orders when you give them. This I swear," he intoned. And Fritz, somehow, could feel that promise settle around his friend''s shoulder like a mantle.

    "Who''s next?" Bert asked.

    "I will," George said with the appropriate amount of gravitas.

    Then he too swore the same oath, just as Bert had, word for word. Next was Lauren, who had no trouble with the words or promise. Surprisingly Cal vowed his support before his sister did, not having to be called upon last. It seemed that, finally, his loyalties lay in the right place. Rosie the last to swear, did so easily, eagerly almost. And then it was done.

    After each oath, Fritz had felt them all becoming closer, bound by more than just the words spoken. That same ineffable air he had felt with Bert''s oath cloaked their frames and sank into their Sanctums. Distantly Fritz thought he could hear the cold rustling of chains.

    Fritz wasn''t sure that all had spoken true, though somehow he felt he would know if they had lied. Perhaps it was another feature of Awareness, or maybe Dusksong.

    "Now that all that is out of the way, I should probably take a look at those Doors," Fritz said motioning to the three Doors to the Seventh Floor. "Or I would if I wasn''t so dead tired. We''ve had quite the day."

    The others nodded.

    "I guess I should get started on dinner," Cal said, slinging his pack from his shoulder and pulling out some extra firewood they were able to scavenge from the jungle. It was still a little damp, but with Lauren''s Fire Breath, it was no problem to get the fire going.

    "Huh, smoke''s just disappearing," Rosie said, following the thick grey plumes with her eyes as they seeped through the scaled stone roof.

    "That''s convenient," Fritz said.

    "Very," Lauren agreed.

    "Too bad there''s no baths," Fritz groaned.

    "There are actually, just behind the house and that high wooden fence. In fact, along with the gold, I also negotiated us a bath pass," Lauren explained, holding out a wooden token. "Though it was more for my benefit than yours."

    "Is that so?" George asked.

    "It is. Sapphire was kind enough to ask me to dinner tonight. And once I had protested that I simply couldn''t in my current state, she offered me the pass as a small gift."

    "I see," Fritz said, glad Lauren had made a friend, but also suspicious of the Guildswoman''s intentions.

    Was she trying to gather information on us, on me? Did they recognise me or my name? Am I caught? Fritz''s paranoid thoughts were quickly interrupted.

    "Does that mean you won''t be joining us?" Cal said somewhat dejectedly.

    "Indeed, your lessons will have to wait until tomorrow I''m afraid," she said, though she didn''t sound that apologetic. In fact, under all her weariness she looked like she was looking forward to a dinner away.

    "Take her some of the mangoes," Bert suggested.

    "Yes, and try and pull as much information as you can out of her," Fritz said. "She''s got to know something about the current Doors, or how to make a little more gold from our Climb."

    "Yes, yes. I''ll see what I can do," Lauren said as she pulled a spare robe and her soaps and perfumes from her pack. She sighed as she looked her robe''s blue wool over, "I wish I had something nicer, but this will have to do."

    "Mind my things while I''m away, would you?" she asked, though she didn''t wait for a response and strode away, keen to be clean.

    With a sigh, Fritz laid out his bedroll and set up his pillow and blanket, making sure it was all in contact with each other so it was still ''his''. The others followed his lead while Cal took care of the hearty stew he usually prepared.

    Lauren was back before they had even begun to eat another delicious meal of mango and crab. She dried her hair by the fire and brought a well-worn wooden brush to set right the tangles and knots. And while she applied some powder to conceal the faint blue of her bruise, she handed the token off to the victor of their most recent great game of selection, Fritz.

    It hadn''t been a true contest, he could intuit what hand sign they''d throw. That and Bert was his last opponent, and he always, always, always threw rock. The idiot.

    "You place the token into the impression and the fence will open," Lauren explained as she stared into a small polished steel mirror and painted her lips a brighter shade of red.

    Fritz nodded and ran off. Within minutes he was behind the wooden fence, stripping off his armour and soaking in a wondrously hot bath. Steam drifted around him almost making him forget he was in a Well room and only yards away were grizzled climbers munching on rations and cursing the Guides Guild for limiting access to the luxury of a good wash. There was even soap provided, which was good because he had used all of his up in the jungle.

    The heat was a soothing balm to his tired, aching limbs and he could feel his tension leeching away. For just a moment, even though this amenity was provided by his most hated foe, Fritz allowed himself to relax and let it all go.

    Only four more Floors to go. He didn''t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at the moment it didn''t matter. Worries melted away, and grudges old and new slunk back into the depths of his mind where they belonged. Right now he and his team were whole and of one purpose. Climbing to the top.

    Finally.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 39

    Once the team had eaten, and all had a chance to bathe, they set in to sleep. Though they didn''t abandon watches, even in the brightly lit Well room. It was one of the things ''The Observations'' suggested, that even in places where you feel safe you should still have that routine so as to not make the mistake on the battlefield.

    Bert had argued against the practise and said it was actually just setting up all of life to be a battlefield. A stunning show of insight from the man. Though Fritz quickly saw through it. Bert just didn''t want to take the first shift. They swapped watches and so it was he who was still awake and saw Lauren return from her dinner.

    She was smiling and humming a small song to herself. Walking slowly and carefully as if afraid she''d trip on the flat ground. The scent of wine reached Fritz and he waved to her. Lauren waved back and made her way to where he sat.

    "I take it you had a good time," Fritz whispered.

    "I did, it was nice," she replied, sitting on her own bedroll.

    "Anything interesting?" Fritz asked.

    She yawned and stretched her arms high. "I''ll tell you in the morning, too tired, and too tipsy right now."

    Lauren lay down and pulled a blanket over her head to block out the persistent light that glowed from a glimmering crystal set in the roof. She fell asleep immediately, snoring softly.

    Fritz''s watch went by rather peaceably, and he saw the nobles retreat to their separate, expensive tents and the other Climbers to their own far less impressive ones. Though every team still had someone, just like him, keeping an eye out for thieves or troublemakers.

    Huh, who ever thought I''d be doing a guard''s job?

    The hours passed and Fritz changed watch with Rosie when his time was up.

    He was asleep in moments.

    ---

    Fritz woke, it wasn''t a bad way to wake as Cal had set out a skewer of crab before him. He ate it ravenously, as the others, who were already awake, ate their own and listened to Lauren. She was regaling them with some of the knowledge she had been gifted or had guessed from her conversations with Sapphire.

    "Apparently three teams here all at once, four now including us, is considered a little crowded. It seems most Climbers take a day or two to rest and move along, but the Prince''s cohort had been here for at least three days. And the local team lost a member and is waiting to see if another team comes along."

    "Why?" Rosie asked.

    "Teams break up, get injuries or some just can''t stand each other any more. Swapping or poaching members isn''t exactly uncommon if you want to continue Climbing higher."

    "Fortunately, we don''t have any of those problems," Fritz said with self-satisfaction.

    "There''s still time," Cal said.

    When the team stared at him he laughed awkwardly. "It was a joke."

    "As I was saying," Lauren continued peevishly. "Having so many here at the same time is somewhat uncommon for the Mer Spire. Though really the most uncommon thing is the Empire ''prince''. Even if he''s not a ruler of one of the Principalities and their Spires, he''s still the great nephew of the Emperor."

    "Don''t care much about no emperor," Rose groused. "We''ve already got a king why do we need an emperor too?"

    "He''s not ''our'' emperor, he rules the continent to the west and controls the Grand Spire of Light and Law. Though the talk is that he''s pushing his reign outwards from the mainland. That he wants to bring Rain City and other independent kingdoms into the fold as his Principalities. Hence he sends an emissary from his very own blood," Lauren explained. "However, this is all rumour, and the king doesn''t seem to mind the Empire''s presence here, so it must all be under control. Especially seeing as he gave the ''prince'' an escort of those boorish, but important noble sons and beautiful, but disposable noble daughters."

    "That sound''s an awful lot like noble politicking," Fritz said, finishing his delightful, if somewhat rote by now, breakfast.

    "It is," Lauren agreed.

    "And therefore: boring," Bert said.

    She nodded at that as well.

    "It''s not so much that it''s boring," Fritz argued."It''s more a case of: why bother? We certainly don''t have the power to change things. Not yet at least."

    Though how long would that remain true? He wondered.

    "That''s also part of it. We common folk should just keep our heads down and batten down the hatches when noble fighting comes to the fore," Lauren stated. "My father said the whims of the powerful were akin to the sea like that. Waves you could ride on or drown under."

    "Part of the common folk are we now? Miss merchant''s daughter?" Fritz teased.

    "Closer to common than to noble. Even when my sister marries in, if my sister marries in, it will be her children who stand to benefit from having some peerage. Though I''m sure my mother will turn it to the good of the family, or rather herself," she said bitterly.

    The team was quiet for a heartbeat before Bert burst in with his usual vigour.

    "Anyway, learn anything good from your dinner with the guide-gal?"

    "A few things," Lauren said proudly, smiling slyly.

    "Anything about the Doors?" Fritz asked.

    "Never mind that, what do the Guides eat, was it fancy?" Bert interrupted.

    "It was actually quite varied, for the middle of a Spire, three whole courses. First a white fin soup with bread and butter, it was delightful. Then a slab of monster steak, that was the true star of the night. The dessert, however, was a cake that was not quite to my taste and a little dry. We ended up sharing a couple of those mangoes after that and much preferred those. Even if they were a wet mess to eat. All in all, it was an extremely pleasant night."

    "I''m glad you had some fun and that she was good company, but what did she say about the Doors?" Fritz said, aggravated at the aside and trying not to show it.

    "Oh, right," Lauren said a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. "She said that two of the Doors are Persistent Doors."

    "What''s that?" Rosie asked.

    "Well, they''re floors that so commonly reoccur with such little deviation that might as well be the same. Every time they lock, reset or the Spire shuffles these Floors are here, at this Well, in some fashion."

    "Huh. Two of them?" Fritz asked.

    "There''s another at the ninth," Lauren said. "Though I didn''t get much about that one except for a comment about vile bog-man-alikes."

    "Sound almost as bad as eels," Rosie said, as she absently scratched at her scales.

    "And the two Doors on this level? Did she give you any hints as to what dwells within?" Fritz asked trying his very best to keep the conversation going somewhere useful.

    "She did. One is easy to Climb. It starts you off on a sandy shore with hundreds of man-eating manatees."

    "That doesn''t sound easy," Cal said.

    "Apparently they''re slow and stupidly aggressive, easily surrounded or lured into traps. Their skin is like thick leather. In fact, it is leather. My armour, and yours, is made of it. The regular Climbers take that floor all the time, and seemingly it appears a lot, and not just here. They call it the grey leather shore, not a very imaginative name, but it was discovered by Climbers not poets. Sapphire found it odd that we hadn''t encountered it, nor knew of it."

    "And the other Door?" Fritz inquired, ignoring her pointed look. It wasn''t his fault they hadn''t encountered a grey leather shore. He''d led them well, and well on the way to greatness at that.

    "The other is far more dangerous, it''s where we can harvest, or rather, steal sirensilk," she explained.

    When no one gasped or exclaimed, like Lauren seemed to think they would, she continued with a sigh, "It''s a premium good, probably one of the best found outside of a larger Spire. Bolts of it are worth hundreds of gold."

    "What''s the danger?" Cal asked.

    "It''s in the name, sirensilk is woven from seafoam by sirens," Lauren explained. "Those fair maiden-monsters who sing sailors to their deaths. Then eat their flesh and carve their bones to make their tools and adorn their island nests."

    "They sound lovely," Bert remarked. "But I doubt they can contend with us and our might."

    "Well, I heard that they''re stronger and tougher than they look, with feathers as hard as steel and talons that can part flesh like razors."

    "Are you trying to talk him into it or out of it?" Fritz asked with a smirk. "You know he loves a good fight, you''re just getting him excited."

    Lauren shrugged. "I thought it would be put to a vote once you have searched the Doors. I was just telling you the tales I was regaled with."

    "Fair," Fritz said. "Anything else we should know?"

    "Well, apart from their enchanting song, which can be dealt with by deafening yourself, that''s it," Lauren said. "Oh, and they live on rocky islands so there may be some need for swimming between their lairs."

    "It is nice to have information about a Floor before we go through it," Fritz mused. "Much better than muddling about like we do."

    "Like you do," Bert corrected.

    "I thought you said you could sense danger-" Rosie began before Fritz hissed, "Shhhh."

    "We can talk about Abilities on the next Floor, away from eavesdroppers."

    Rosie tilted her head then shrugged.

    "I suppose I should go see these Doors for myself," Fritz said standing.

    "Good, leaves more breakfast for the rest of us," Bert said.

    With that Fritz left them to chat amongst themselves. He strode to the three Doors as he retrieved his increasingly ragged chapter about underwater Floors. He knew he should be treating it better, even though he felt nothing but disdain for it and the Guild''s practises regarding parcelling out such knowledge.

    He began his performance, flipping through the booklet as if he were interested in what it had to say while he paced.

    The leftmost Door was an arch of stone with a sandy ramp leading upwards. Cool air and dim light seeped down from the entrance. With his Door Sense, he felt a long, bleak shore and saw in his mind the great lumbering manatee beasts as they lay about, groaning their warbling cries. It was just as Lauren had said, a safe enough floor with some reward if they were to take on the messy task of slaying and skinning those grey creatures for their thick hides.

    The idea didn''t appeal to Fritz, as it was far too messy, gruesome even, and just thinking of the bloody task had an image of Vaa''gur''s remains flash before his eyes. Swallowing down the sourness in his mouth, he searched the next door.

    It was taller than the other two, and looked like a circular hole, cleanly cut, in a glacier. Freezing air, almost as cold as the blizzard blew out in a sudden gust and he could hear the sounds of distant shrieking carried on its winds. Fritz shivered, then alighted his Sense upon the icy Door. Beyond was some sort of maze of too-neat tubes of ice, crisscrossing and sprawling. He didn''t get many impressions that hinted at danger, but cold was an insidious enemy and he dreaded to test it.

    The last Door seemed almost idyllic compared to the others. A gentle ocean breeze, warm and salty, blew from the rocky ramp. Again he felt for what he could glean and found it much as he had been told. Winged man-alikes, or was it woman-alikes, sat on stony outcrops poking over a vast sea. He could almost hear their song, and almost took a step forward to listen closer to the alluring melody.

    Fritz shook his head and stepped backwards, forcing his eyes to read the boring chapter in his hand as his mind recovered from the all-too-subtle, all-too-literal siren song.

    It is easiest to tell when a Door leads underwater by its apparent moistness. However, this is not always a sure sign that you will find yourself in an ocean, lake or river. There are Floors that are extraordinarily humid or those where it rains constantly. A dreary prospect even at the best of times, and a complication that should be avoided when possible, as water will find a way into your equipment and few Climbers take the time to ensure their packs are properly waterproof.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    The material, make and maintenance are the next things one should be conscious of, as a Door made of coral or ice could easily lead under the ocean, as could iron if it appears to be rusted- Fritz stopped reading the annoyingly obvious advice now that his head had cleared, then he made his way back to his crew to report his findings.

    "What did you find? Oh, glorious scout-captain?" Bert asked.

    "Exactly what you''ve been told, except that I think the middle Door is some frozen wasteland. One we''re not suited to traverse without warmer gear."

    "Speaking of gear," George said. "Should we purchase some from the Guides or see if the other Climbers have some they would part with for gold?"

    "We should, though I''m loath to spend it all away when we have Treasures to fill," Fritz allowed. "Anything in particular that caught your attention?"

    "Maybe a shovel, hammer and chisel or some more rope,"

    "I have a chisel, got it in a chest, and Rosie''s pick has a hammerhead," Bert said.

    "You still have the chisel? I thought it would''ve rusted away by now," Fritz said, mildly curious.

    "Still got it, and it''s fine, only the hammer was ruined," he replied.

    "So a shovel?" Fritz affirmed.

    "Maybe a pan as well?" Cal asked. "I don''t want to make everything a stew, spit or skewer."

    "A pan as well," Fritz agreed, glad to see that even Cal was getting sick of the sameness of their meals.

    "How about we get a know-note or two to find out what our other Treasures do?" Rosie asked, pointing to her helmet and then to Lauren''s boots.

    "A splendid plan," Fritz said.

    "What about my flail?" Cal asked.

    "Don''t we already know what it does?" Bert countered.

    "It might have another Ability, you never know. Same goes for those Treasures we got from the raid- from you know who," Cal ended lamely.

    "How much were Know-notes again?" Fritz inquired.

    "Nine gold triads," Lauren said.

    "That''s preposterous!" Fritz exclaimed, almost throwing the chapter he still had in his hand.

    "It''s robbery," Bert agreed.

    "It''s business," Lauren said. "It''s all just gold to the Guides."

    "Damn Guides, hate them bastards," Rosie groused.

    "For once, I agree with you," Fritz said. "Though honestly, I''m surprised they would even sell Know-notes. Why not scam people by undervaluing their unidentified Treasures when they might have to trade them away for needed supplies?"

    "I think that''s a little too far, even for them. I don''t think Ceph or any other Climbers would allow them to get away with that sort of behaviour," Lauren said.

    "So how many should we buy?" Bert interjected before Fritz could complain some more.

    "Six? Might as well check them all," Fritz said. Then he sighed bitterly. Fifty-four triads was a lot of gold. It could keep their Treasures filled or could buy them so many things on the outside, it felt like a huge waste.

    "Don''t worry," Bert said, reading his mind. "I''m sure the siren Floor will more than make up for what we lose here."

    "I know. It just hurts losing so much wealth, especially since it''s to the Guild," Fritz admitted morosely. Even though he did know it was for the best, it was better to have knowledge of what they had than not.

    "So you two want to take the siren floor then?" Cal asked tentatively.

    "Of course," they said together.

    "Gold," Fritz said.

    "Lovely bird-ladies," Bert added.

    "Deadly bird-ladies," Fritz corrected.

    "Even better," Bert said, grinning.

    "I won''t vote for the siren Floor unless you have a plan to deal with the song," Lauren told them flatly, with an almost disgusted look at Bert.

    "We can use one of the remedies we found," Fritz said. "I believe there was one that would make you harder to fool by illusions."

    "There was. Though I don''t know how effective it will be," she hedged.

    "Well, I may have an Ability that lets me resist such things," Fritz said. "And I have Control, that''s got to help right?"

    "Another Ability?" Lauren said sceptically, but when Fritz blandly smiled and offered no more information she continued. "I suppose Control could work, though I read it''s unlike Resolve in that you need to actively use it rather than it being more of a passive enhancement. So you would have to be aware you were enthralled or enchanted to leverage its power."

    "Fortunate that I have Awareness then," he boasted.

    Lauren still seemed unsure but eventually shrugged.

    "You haven''t led us wrong yet," she conceded. "And I doubt the danger is nearly as deadly as the raid- as you know who."

    "True as the rain," George agreed. "If we beat him we can beat some song birds."

    "I''m in," Cal said, agreeing in an obvious attempt to turn over a new leaf.

    They all turned to Rosie where she sat playing with the ring on her finger, and she said, "I got''s no qualms about it. Siren Door is fine."

    "I was keen at ''more dangerous''," Bert said. "The gold is just gravy, and I love gravy."

    "Right, then let us make our purchases and Note our Treasures," Fritz ordered affably. "We''ll rest here for a day to recover. And then onto the siren floor."

    The team nodded and started heading away to purchase the Know-notes and other equipment.

    "Can I go talk to the other Climbers?" Rosie asked.

    "There''s no law forbidding it, go ahead and mingle," Fritz said. "While I may be your captain, don''t start thinking we''re a military or militia. You''re free to do as you will as long as it doesn''t harm the team."

    "Oh, okay. Yes sir," Rosie said with a lopsided grin.

    Before Fritz could respond he realised, she was teasing him, and that could only be a good sign for our team.

    He decided to play along, "Well, move along soldier! You''re dismissed!

    She laughed and headed first to the noblemen, who promptly shooed her off with cruel words. Rosie had merely shrugged and tried the foreigners next, who seemed surprised at first but welcomed her easily. Bert seeing their amiability decided to stride over and introduce himself too, and soon they were laughing, talking and boasting boisterously.

    They''re immediate acceptance surprised Fritz a little, and he contemplated joining in the talk and tales, but he eventually decided against it. He needed some time just to himself. He was still reeling from his use of the Aberrant Seed. His Sanctum was, for lack of a better word, sore. It felt raw, like a skinned hand, and the cold energy would spike into an icy burning for minutes at a time before abating.

    Fritz chided himself, what did he expect after exposing himself to such a dangerous power? Using the Seed had been monumentally foolish, even if it had been necessary and had saved his and his friend''s lives. If a little pain was the repercussion of such a valiant act then he could bear it, and would do so again in a heartbeat. He sighed, he knew it would get better in time, and with the Well''s recovery. Though he did think not to make taking such desperate risks a habit.

    After thirty minutes, Lauren, George and Cal returned with the know-notes and the other miscellaneous equipment they had bought. They called Rosie and Bert back, who reluctantly said farewell to their new acquaintances. Especially Rosie who had seemingly taken a liking to one of the exotically handsome men there.

    "Well, let''s get through them," Fritz said as the team took out their respective Treasures and Lauren handed out the small white cards.

    Glyphs were burnt into the pale paper as they activated them against their items. When they had read them they handed them off to another of the team.

    "It''s strange that we can read these," Cal said. "I never did learn my letters."

    "Not so strange, it''s just like the Sanctum squiggles," Rose countered.

    "Glyphs," Lauren corrected.

    "Right, those," Rosie agreed.

    "It''s because the first Know-notes originated from the Spire''s, and something we learned how to make from studying them. So their magic is written in Spire glyphs. Though I''m sure if you learned to read now you could do so easier, now that you have a Sanctum."

    "Because of Focus and Memory?" Fritz theorised.

    "I don''t know. I''m not really a scholar on such things, or have access to such restricted books," she replied distractedly.

    "Restricted?" Bert asked, confused.

    "The Guides," Fritz supplied as though that explained it.

    "They have help from the church and nobles too," Lauren said.

    "They do?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes, or at least that''s what I''ve heard. Now shush I''m trying to read what these boots do," Lauren reprimanded, staring hard at the Know-note between her fingers. "Hmm. Not bad for the next floor but not exactly ideal for my Powers."

    "May I?" Fritz asked holding out a hand. She nodded and gave the card over to him and he read:

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Icewalker Treads

    ---

    Alignment: Ice.

    ---

    Capacity: 6/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Icewalk

    Gripping ice, cold''s embrace, freezing footsteps, keep the pace.

    Steps you take with this Treasure freeze the surface below your feet.

    Alignment: Ice.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: One hour.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    "You think it''ll freeze water, letting you walk across it?" Fritz said.

    "That''s what I expect," she said.

    "Won''t the ice be slippery?"

    "I expect that a secondary property of the boots will be that allows you to walk on ice without slipping," Lauren predicted.

    Bert prodded Fritz and he swapped the Know-note he was holding with the one his friend was proffering and read it.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Flail of Inescapable Chains

    ---

    Alignment: Metal.

    ---

    Capacity: 6/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Chains of Binding

    Wrapping links, strong and steel, catch your foe, and bring to heel.

    This Treasure binds a creature with its chain.

    Alignment: Metal.

    Cost: Three.

    Duration: Five minutes.

    Refresh: One hour.

    ---

    ---------

    Cal''s flail seemed to have a mighty cost but five minutes of binding was surprisingly useful and had likely saved their lives against the raider. That and, it was still a hefty weapon with all the great durability of a Treasure. A good item, if not one he''d like for himself. Thinking on weapons, Fritz realised that he hadn''t refilled his dagger, nor remembered to get a Know-note for it. In fact, he couldn''t remember if he had ever refilled it with anything other than the bull''s gold heart.

    "Hold on!" Fritz said, standing and handing off the glyphed card. "Where''s the gold? I need a Know-note, for my dagger."

    "You don''t know what it does?" Lauren asked incredulously.

    "I never got around to it," Fritz admitted, putting on a proud face. "I''m a very important and busy man."

    "A fool, you mean," Bert corrected.

    "Perhaps. Though I still need that gold," Fritz replied.

    Lauren, who held their funds, gave him the bag of triads and he quickly entered the Guild shop and purchased a Know-note for a ridiculous nine gold triads. Fritz seethed inwardly, but made sure not to show it on his face. He also considered identifying his barrier ring as well, but decided against it, he already knew what it did, mostly. Fritz returned to his team and eagerly activated his own Know-note against the bone dagger.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Mortal Edge

    ---

    Alignment: Curse, Death.

    ---

    Capacity: 8/12

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Curse Strike: Mortality

    Cruelly callous, all life offends, wounds unmending, and bloody ends.

    This Treasure becomes wreathed in death, cursing a wound made by this strike. This curse resists healing and reduces health recovery.

    Alignment: Curse, Death.

    Cost: Four.

    Duration: Three days.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Three days. That''s the part that stood out to him most. For three whole days the wound this blade inflicted wouldn''t heal properly. Three days of bleeding would have definitely killed Bert if he had not risked the hidden door and taken the faeries deal. This dagger was deadly, he had thought he had known that already, all daggers were deadly if you put them somewhere vital. But now, with it written in black glyphs in front of him, it really hit him just how potent, how truly lethal, the blade was.

    Fritz shivered. How in the Abyss had Steve gotten something this powerful from a chest? A chest in a minor Spire.

    "What''s wrong?" George asked. "You look like you''ve seen a ghost."

    "Uh... I just wasn''t expecting the Imbuement to be so... strong," Fritz said.

    "Let me see," Bert said. "I want to know what I was stabbed in the gut with."

    Fritz hesitated for a heartbeat but handed it over.

    Bert whistled. "Whoa, that is nasty. I''m surprised I didn''t die."

    "As am I," Fritz said.

    "You survived this!?" Lauren hissed as she read the know-note over Bert''s shoulder.

    "With a little help," Bert said smugly.

    "A lot of help," Fritz groused. "My help, and favour to boot."

    "What''s this? A favour?" Lauren asked, looking at Fritz as though he were an oddity.

    "Secrets," Fritz intoned solemnly and although the whole team looked ready to pounce on him for an explanation they dropped the subject. It wasn''t wise to go shouting about such things, especially in a Well room with three other teams and the Guides as well.

    "Your dagger makes the rest of our Treasures look poor in comparison," Lauren sighed, changing the subject as skilfully as she ever did.

    "I doubt that, let''s see the rest," Fritz entreated.

    The rest of the Know-notes were still in circulation but they all came to him in time and he assessed each one in turn.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Clearbreath Helm

    ---

    Alignment: Air.

    ---

    Capacity: 6/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Air Bubble

    Clad in wind, free and clear, breathe in deeply, without fear.

    This Treasure is enclosed in a bubble of clean air.

    Alignment: Air.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: One Hour.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Rosie''s helm was more useful than he thought it would be, and likely the reason that she hadn''t suffered as badly from the poisonous gas of the raider. It probably had a filtering effect or something even when it wasn''t using its Imbuement, or so Lauren had suggested. The next card featured the raider''s bow.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Unbreakable Bow

    ---

    Alignment: Metal.

    ---

    Capacity: 9/9

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Adamant Shell

    Plated black, can''t be hewn, blocks all blows, and is immune.

    This Treasure is coated in a sheen of Adamant.

    Alignment: Metal

    Cost: Three.

    Duration: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz didn''t know what to make of this particular Treasure, its Imbuement seemed at odds with what a bow was meant to do. Though he supposed using it offensively as a club, or defensively as a staff, could come in handy if you were closed in upon and forced into melee combat. It wasn''t bad, but it definitely wasn''t ideal. The Know-note for the Quiver came around and he read it with pleasant surprise.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Deep Quiver

    ---

    Alignment: Space.

    ---

    Capacity: 6/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Hidden Compartment: Bow and Arrows

    It''s storage, simple, another space, where gear is kept, without a trace.

    This Treasure can store one bow and three arrows within a hidden space.

    Alignment: Space.

    Cost: Arrow: One, Bow: Two.

    Duration: None.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    He had to admit that this Treasure was good, it did just what you wanted for a quiver, and he knew you could keep the bow stringed within, allowing you to surprise people with a sudden bow attack. Fritz suspected Sid would enjoy this, and it would make a fine gift for her. The last of the glyphed paper made its way to him and he read:

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Sea-skin Ring

    ---

    Alignment: Force, Water.

    ---

    Capacity: 9/9

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Sea-skin Shield

    Slipping, flowing over skin. Splashing, saving who''s within.

    You are enclosed in a smooth barrier of water.

    Alignment: Force, Water.

    Cost: 3

    Duration: Nine seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    The raider''s ring was potent indeed. A more advanced, water-aligned, version of his own barrier ring. Fritz contemplated trying to trade his own ring for it but could see any attempts to wrangle this particular Treasure would be useless. Lauren was enamoured with the white ring of bone and she smiled at him prettily when he tried to broach the subject.

    "I think I''ll keep it for now. Don''t want my chest caved in again, you know," she said, much to his hidden dismay.

    "We don''t have any more Know-notes?" Rosie asked, looking at her own dry coral ring.

    "We can get that one done outside. Don''t you think? We''re already down to, twenty-seven triads," Lauren explained.

    "Hmm, I guess so. Doesn''t really do much anyway," Rosie said. "But it has grown on me. It''s the first piece of jewellery I ever got."

    Pity entered Lauren''s eyes for a moment before she said, "This is just the beginning, once we''re out we can get you something even nicer."

    "We''ll be rich. True as the rain," Bert said slapping Rosie on the back.

    She smiled at that.

    The time they spent in the Well room passed by in a restful, if watchful blur. Lauren had another dinner with her newest friend; Rosie, Cal and Bert mingled with the other Climbers while Fritz and George spent some time in silent contemplation and companionable silence. They slept another night and in the morning they had gathered their things and were ready to go.

    It seemed they were the only ones to do so, the other teams had other priorities, or so he had heard. The nobles were waiting on the ''Prince'' to decide when he was ready to ascend the rest of the way. Apparently, he was treating the Climb as something of an amusement, a chance to relax and cavort, away from the eyes of high society. Much to the chagrin of the noblemen stuck outside his silk pavilion, waiting on his whims.

    Fritz smirked at them while he passed by, delighting in their sour faces and enraged eyes.

    The locals he was more cordial too, giving them nods as they waited on some more Climbers to join them to replace their injured team members. The foreigners were still resting and recovering, and those awake bade their team a yelled farewell which they returned in kind.

    Fritz led his team to the rocky ramp that led to the siren Floor beyond.

    "Just four more floors."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 40

    "Whoa there!" Dayn called out, rapidly approaching Fritz''s team before they headed through the grey stone of the siren Door.

    "Dayn, what can we do for you? We were just heading off," Fritz said amiably.

    The man ruffled his brown hair and looked around at the expectant team. "I just thought I''d warn you before you went through,'' he said seriously. "You might want to reconsider and take the leftmost Door, that one is more suited to new Climbers. The Door you are about to take is deadly, too many experienced, overconfident teams are lost within."

    "Oh? I heard it was full of extremely valuable materials," Fritz intoned, fishing for more information.

    "It is, but the feathers and silk are not worth it," Dayn said. "The sirens within are powerful creatures, amongst the most perilous foes in the Mer Spire. Abyss, they even beat out some of the Rain Spire''s monsters too. And that''s to say nothing of traversing the floor."

    "Have you ever been in it? You seem knowledgeable about it," Lauren asked.

    "Once, and that was enough to make me avoid it. It was on a lower Floor and we still lost four people before we escaped. Then we had the spite to deal with until we lost two more. It was one of the worst Climbs I''ve ever been in," he recounted grimly.

    "We appreciate the warning," Fritz said. "However, I''m still resolute that this is the right choice for us. We have rags to stuff our ears, and water-breathing remedies for the swim. And other such equipment besides."

    Dayn looked them over again and seemed to see what Fritz felt from his team, a steady resolve to brave the siren Floor beyond.

    "Very well," Dayn exhaled resignedly. "I just thought to warn you, too many young Climbers needless fall on deceptively deadly Floors. Blessings of Alestria be upon you."

    "May your guidance be recorded in Ton''var''s archives," Lauren replied properly.

    When the local Climber had left, Fritz said, "I didn''t take you for the devout sort."

    Lauren shrugged. "You have to talk the talk when you''re a merchant. Can''t go offending the clergy or community. That, and it''s not like there are any other profound answers out there. Sure, there are other old scriptures, like the Krakosi Commands or the Jastili Way. But those beliefs aren''t widespread or entirely credible outside their respective cultures. The Gods existed, and that''s a fact. There are records of them and their teams, from when they were mortal Climbers, before they Ascended the Final Spire."

    "Yes, though is there any evidence that they still care about us mortals? That they watch us from on high?" Fritz argued.

    "More evidence for them than for faeries, I would say," Lauren said blandly.

    "Are we going to stand around discussing theology and myth? Or are we going to go see some, I mean fight some, sirens?" Bert interrupted.

    "Bert... who in the Abyss taught you the term Theology?" Fritz asked, scowling.

    "You did?" Bert said, eyes unfocused as if peering into the past.

    "What''s theology?'' Rosie asked.

    "You can get Bert to explain it to you later," Fritz deflected affably. "For now we have a Door to go through."

    "Are you sure?" Cal asked, shuffling from foot to foot. "I realised it was dangerous before but after hearing that man''s warning..." he trailed off.

    "Come on, think of the gold and the potential Abilities offered, maybe one of you could get your very own siren song, or feathers if you so wished. Just like the lizard floor that likely improved your selection of Traits and Paths," Fritz said in his most charming tones.

    "He''s right. I never would have got my rare Abilities without taking some risk," Lauren said.

    Cal finally nodded. "Sorry, just a bit of cold feet I suppose."

    "Cold feet! You should leave that to Lauren and her boots!" Bert said with a laugh.

    She frowned at him and George chuckled.

    "Right, unless there are any more misgivings we should get moving," Fritz proclaimed.

    There was no more dissent and the team readied themselves for the dangers beyond.

    Fritz strode up the uneven, wet rock of the ramp and into the warm wind. Upward until he breached the Floor''s boundary and found himself standing on a stone outcrop in the middle of an ocean. From twenty feet above the roiling sea, he took in the wondrous view, the pure blue sky and the bright sun. The clear air and high purchase let him see for miles despite the roughness of the waves. A welcome change from the previous Floors.

    There were hundreds of short and tall rocky islands all around. Among them stone pillars, bluffs and cliffs stood against the crashing waves. His own bleak refuge was no more than a hundred feet wide at his estimation, and the others in the distance looked to be around the same size. He breathed deep the fresh air and seaspray leapt and fell on him in a fine salty mist.

    His team soon joined him and stared out in appreciation, murmuring their own words of delight.

    Fritz pulsed his Awareness laced with Door Sense, and could feel the general direction of the Stairway. Unsurprisingly, it pulled his gaze towards the tallest peak of one of the largest islands. They would have to hop from island to island tens of times to reach it, and on its sheer slopes he could see pale specs of bleached bones and the brown of driftwood nests.

    There were also the birds, or rather not birds, but sirens, flying around its peak and sitting on the grey ledges. They would dive from their perches and skim the ocean before rising and swooping onto the jagged stone shelves where they made their nests. Unfortunately, the sirens were too far away to make out clearly, even with his own powerful senses, and he had to make do with guesswork.

    "What do you see, Fritz?" George asked. "Have you already found the stairway?"

    "What?" Fritz shouted as if he hadn''t heard him over the sound of waves.

    "Have you found the Stairway!?" George yelled back.

    "Maybe! That''s the highest point," Fritz said, gesturing to the largest island.

    "How do we get there?" George asked during a lull in the noise.

    "Swim. How else," Bert stated, stepping back, then taking a running jump over the cliff''s edge.

    Before Fritz could remind him of their heavy bones, he was gone, diving into the depths with a great splash. He was swallowed by the sea and Fritz looked on worriedly. He knew the fall wouldn''t hurt Bert, and it had looked like he''d already applied some of the raider''s gill-grease so drowning wasn''t an issue, yet. But still, what if he sank too far into the ocean and couldn''t swim back up?

    His fears went unrealised as Bert''s pack popped up like a cork followed by his grinning head. His expression seemed only a little troubled as he swam to the stony shore and clung to it.

    "Waves are a little rough!" He cried out. "There''s a cave here!"

    "I wouldn''t recommend doing as that idiot did," Fritz told the team. "We should just climb down."

    "Are we going to have to swim, that might be, difficult," George said, clearly talking about his armour.

    "Oh, right. Take it off, Cal can carry it in his new pack," Fritz ordered. "Maybe shrink your sword too."

    George wasn''t pleased, the first time Fritz had seen him in such a mood, but he obeyed without a grumble. What Fritz wouldn''t give for a team full of the man.

    Cal diligently packed away the armour in the black traveller''s pack and fastened it to his back. With that done, they clambered down the side of the stone cliff, it wasn''t easy though it wasn''t exactly difficult either. The stone, though wet, was porous and rough, with many handholds and footholds. The greatest danger was that a wave might sweep them away. Though that wasn''t likely either, with all of them, save Lauren, having aligned so many points to Strength.

    They made their way down with no troubles and gathered in the small cave where the sounds of the ocean were muffled and they could speak without shouting.

    "Bert, you moron, your bones, you imbecile," Fritz chided.

    "Whoops," Bert said. "Didn''t feel too bad though, I''m only a little heavier. It felt like the waves were less powerful than they should be."

    "Momentum," Lauren stated.

    "Oh!" Bert cried slapping his forehead and grinning. "Of course. You''re a genius, Lauren. I''m so glad Fritz dragged you along, without you all these mysteries would never be solved."

    "Don''t patronise me," Lauren said, scowling.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    "He''s trying to be earnest, I think," Fritz said.

    "I am!" Bert yelled, then dropped his grin. "In all seriousness though, each of you are a valuable addition to the team, even Fritz."

    Unsure what to do with Bert''s unusual change in demeanour the group stared on with mild embarrassment.

    Fritz coughed.

    "Thank you, Bert, I value your contributions, mad as they may be, as well." he said then turned his attention to the team. "And now that we have some time to talk, and you''re stuck with us for four more Floors we can answer some of your questions."

    Fritz and Bert had planned this out together the previous night, agreeing to give answer to some of the team''s lingering doubts.

    "Are you really a noble?" Rosie asked.

    "Yes and no," Fritz replied. "My House is gone, and I don''t expect to inherit. Though I suppose I have the blood, whatever good that does."

    "None," Bert said.

    "Is Bert also a noble or is he your servant?" Cal asked.

    "Gods no," Fritz and Bert said together.

    "I''m as common as they come, grew up in the gutters as an orphaned urchin. Don''t even remember my parent''s faces, if they had any," Bert said proudly.

    "He is uncommonly common, and would be a terrible servant," Fritz added.

    "How does a noble-born end up in the gutter and friends with an urchin?" George asked, keenly interested in the tale.

    "You heard most of it from that noble Charles, which I won''t reiterate. Suffice it to say, a terrible tragedy befell my family, then I committed some ''grave'' offence at the Guide orphanage. I was eight or nine at the time, and on the run, fleeing for my safety. The rain was particularly heavy, and I was swept up in a sudden flood. Bert caught my arm as I flailed and floundered, then he pulled me free of the rushing water."

    "Fished him right out," Bert said.

    "At first I thought he saved me out of kindness."

    "I did," Bert lied. "True benevolence runs in these veins."

    "Then I realised he wanted to rob me, as I was still in my sturdy, stately orphanage uniform and looked far wealthier than I actually was," Fritz explained.

    "He had a whole silver in his coin pouch! I was right," Bert said indignantly. "But the bastard wouldn''t let me have it, even after I saved him! Ungrateful! And like any noble, he clung his coin like it was his own life."

    "We fought," Fritz said in fond remembrance. "We were both skinny as starved rats back then."

    "You still are," Bert interrupted.

    "So the fight was a vicious struggle, I fended him back with a stick. But Bert fights dirty and soon we were tumbling on the ground, screaming, punching and biting."

    "Fights dirty!? You came at me with a broken chair leg!" Bert argued with a grin. "I only did what I had to do!"

    "Eventually, after much exertion, we were too tired to move, too exhausted to keep brawling. We lay there, and famished as I was I asked him where I could get a decent meal at that time of night," Fritz continued.

    "And I said, ''You''d need a decent place for a decent meal, but I know somewhere that won''t make you sick.''" Bert recollected.

    "And I said, ''lead the way,''" Fritz ended, smiling softly.

    A couple of moments passed where they were both quiet, caught up in nostalgic reminiscence.

    "And?" Lauren asked.

    "And? What? That''s the end," Fritz said, slicking back his hair. "Or rather the beginning of my life as a gutter thief."

    "What!? That''s it?!" Lauren said incredulously.

    "Huh?" Bert asked.

    "No blood oaths? Or swearing to take revenge on Fritz''s foes together?" She asked.

    "No, he bought me dinner though," Bert said. "Grilled seagull, if I recall correctly."

    "You do," Fritz agreed.

    "That''s... that''s..." she mumbled. "That''s anti-climactic."

    "That''s just how it goes," Fritz supplied. "This isn''t some grand tale. It''s just survival, and two young wretches wrestling in a gutter over a sliver of silver."

    "Where did you get the dagger?" Lauren asked. "An heirloom?" She added hopefully, obviously clutching to the vain wish that the story would conform to some adventure book she had read.

    "Hardly. Though that is, unfortunately, a secret I cannot reveal. The Nightshark forbids it," Fritz said.

    Lauren scoffed at that, "A rumour and a stupid one."

    "No," Fritz said vehemently. "Absolutely true."

    Lauren seemed taken aback by his tone and considered the implications.

    "Have you met him, the Nightshark?" Cal asked.

    "No, though Bert and I are likely to after this Climb. Unfortunately, due to our affiliations and activities while we scraped-

    "And stole," Bert interrupted.

    "And stole," Fritz agreed, "To survive. We have fallen under their rule and seemingly ever-present gaze. If the higher-ups are to be believed."

    "Bad luck that," Rosie said.

    "Yes. Unfortunate," Fritz replied. "Anything else?"

    There was a silence for a while as they searched for questions.

    "Now that we can ask, nothing seems to come to mind, "George observed with a wry smile.

    "I know, right?" Cal agreed.

    "I have one more, though it sounds mad," Lauren said tentatively.

    Fritz motioned for her to ask so she did.

    "Faeries," she said.

    "Faeries?" Fritz echoed.

    "You''ve said some odd things," she began. "Things that have caused me some concern, mind you, about meeting faeries."

    "Ah," Fritz said. "Well, I''m afraid that the answer is as mad as the question."

    When the group just continued staring at him, he continued, "You see, Bert was in a dire state, cut by the very blade I now hold. He was dying in the dark, and in that blackness I discovered a hidden Door. One that led to a faerie realm of eternal sunset, or sunrise, it was hard to tell. I sought help from the faeries dwelling within and received it. They broke the curse laid upon Bert''s wound. And then we left. Straight into a Well room. That''s about all I remember, even now the recollection is fuzzy."

    Obviously, this was a rudimentary summary of the events that transpired in that strange twilight world. But he also had not one mote of desire to tell them the whole truth of his bargain and the debt he still owed to the Duskmoth. No, that he would keep very close to his chest, and even now the thought of that favour being called upon unnerved him. Though he didn''t suspect he would be demanded to repay it any time soon. The call would come in the future, some dark, violent future. Somehow he knew that for sure.

    "Really?" George said sceptically, bringing Fritz back to the conversation at hand.

    "Really," Bert said. "I wouldn''t believe it myself if I didn''t have a latent Trait that says I''ve been touched by faeries."

    "So Bert never saw them and all we have are your words. They didn''t give you a token or anything else?" Lauren asked unconvinced.

    "I said it would sound mad, and no they gave me nothing," Fritz stated, knowing that it wasn''t exactly correct. His Cloak of Dusk could be considered a boon of sorts, even if he had to empower it with the Spire''s magic.

    "Nothing save your best friend''s and blood brother''s life you mean!" Bert exclaimed. "A gift beyond any Treasure!"

    "True as the rain," Fritz laughed. "A priceless gift!"

    "You missed the part about Sir Geraldo. You implied that you had met him," Lauren stated, not distracted by their laughing.

    "Oh, yes, he was ordered to pull the carriage and lead us to the Doorway out. He was extremely rude and kept calling me a muddy mortal. His manner truly belied his valour, I''m surprised he''s even a knight. Though maybe he just distinguished himself in battle, those antlers did look mighty deadly, triply so if he were on the charge," Fritz mused.

    "I see," Lauren said, those particular anecdotes seeming to give her pause.

    Again silence gripped the group the quiet broken only by the crashing of waves.

    "I don''t know what to think," she said finally. "Faeries were said to exist and would treat with humans, though it''s been centuries. Why break the silence now? Why you?"

    Fritz shrugged. "I don''t know."

    "Enough about that, what Abilities did you fine folk end up picking?" Bert asked. "I chose an Ability called Bull Rush but you''ve seen it in battle already. It makes me charge forward, stronger and faster than normal. And I''m plenty strong already."

    With that, the questions about their past were forgotten and the team got to gushing about their new Powers.

    Rosie reiterated her choice of Ruinous Resistance, mentioning it gave her some small protections against rot and corrosive or poisonous substances. Fritz thought it an odd Ability but couldn''t discount its versatile nature, and reasoned that anything that helped you survive was a great boon, especially as a Defender.

    "I took Sure Grip, a Passive that helps me hold onto things, like my sword. It also aided me while climbing down," George said. "I must admit, I was dismayed at my poor offerings and chose this one simply because it wasn''t water-aligned. But it has already proven more useful than I was expecting."

    "That''s the way of it sometimes," Fritz said. "You''ve all seen my Ability as well, it''s a Passive that lets me phase into shadow before I''m harmed. Though it has a long refresh and an Aligned-only cost."

    "Lucky," Cal groused.

    "Very unusual in a water and sea-beast aligned Spire," Lauren remarked. "Even with those particular downsides. Though I''m sure they could eventually be ironed out with Evolutions."

    "Indeed," Fritz said, giddy at the thought but not showing it.

    "I myself chose Heat Sense," she continued.

    "Oh, a Sense Ability?" Fritz asked eagerly.

    "Yes, it''s strange, it''s not like seeing or hearing, but in a small distance around me, I can feel how warm, or cool things are. I don''t think it''s very accurate, as you all feel around the same temperature. However, at least I can tell you apart from the cold stone and water," Lauren explained. "I suppose its more limited nature is because I don''t have very high Perception, or don''t have access to Awareness."

    "Likely so, but at least it''ll be harder for monsters, or hogs, to sneak up on you," Fritz said with his usual smirk.

    "It will at that, though like George''s choice, it was just the best of some bad offerings," she said, sighing.

    "Tell me about it, I was offered Conjure Water, Igniting Touch, or Guided Toss," Cal groused.

    "I would''ve taken Igniting Touch in a heartbeat," Lauren said and George nodded agreeing with her.

    "What?" Cal asked. "But it said it would only set flammable things alight? Like wood and stuff."

    "''Stuff'' including oil, rope and clothes," Lauren said condescendingly.

    "I''m no fire mage so it wouldn''t have been worth it to me," he retorted, blushing.

    "Yes, of course," she said drily. "You must have taken the throw ''stuff'' better one then."

    "Guided Toss, and yes, it will make my throws more accurate and able to predict how to hit a moving foe," Cal said, defending his choice but steadily growing redder.

    "An amazing choice," Bert said, slapping Cal on the back. "Especially seeings as our foes on this floor can fly."

    "That is a fair point," Lauren said half-apologetic half-thoughtful. "Perhaps you were right Cal."

    "Well-" Cal began.

    "Speaking of foes, we should get to finding them and stealing their silk," Fritz interrupted before Cal could blunder and blurt out that he had made his choice before he knew what Door they were taking.

    Fritz led them back to the entrance of the cave and pointed to the closest stony pillar. "We''ll swim from island to island until we find one with the signs of sirens. Then I''ll climb up and see what I can scout without alerting them."

    "Oh but first, water-breathing potions or gill-grease take your pick, there''s plenty to go around," Fritz said.

    He himself chose the potion, as he was more familiar with it. The rest tried out the gill grease. Apparently, it was painful, they winced as horizontal slits opened on their necks where they applied the substance.

    "More and more a merfolk every day," Cal teased Rosie.

    "That''s good, they can work in the palace and get much better pay," Rosie said.

    "Right, are we ready?" Fritz asked.

    "Ready," the team called out.

    Fritz stood by the sea, some apprehension bubbling in his chest. Most of the times he had to be submerged in water had been some of the most deadly trials of his life. And now he also had his moonsilvered bones to worry about with the distinct feeling and fear that he''d be dragged down into the depths. Though he had seen that Bert''s traveller''s pack was surprisingly buoyant and he hoped his would also be able to offset his heavier body.

    He drank down his disgusting potion and took a deep breath. He felt the heat in his lungs almost immediately, apparently the alchemist who had made this was more skilled. Even the taste wasn''t as bad, more like boiled cabbage than burnt boots.

    Pushing himself to take the next step, he leapt into the waves below. With a splash, he was embraced by the chill of the ocean. For a moment or two he sank, and Fritz had to admit the water wasn''t too bad, no muscle cramping cold or powerful currents assaulted him. He hung there, his descent suspended by the floating pack on his back.

    Fritz''s fear left him as his drowning became unrealised. He began to move his arms and kick his legs, swimming forward with little difficulty. It felt similar to the Sunken Spire''s lake, and that remembered terror threatened to subsume him, but he pushed away those memories and swam onward.

    The next island was only around two hundred feet away and it took him around three, maybe four, minutes to scrabble onto its rocky shore. He wasn''t the first to get there, nor was he the last. That dubious honour was reserved for Lauren who had obviously had the least experience swimming and the least aligned Strength. Even then it only took her five minutes to reach the stone and be hauled up by Bert''s strong, outstretched arm.

    The island they had landed on was completely barren and grey, so they skirted around its edge and swam to the next, and the next, until they had come upon one stony outcropping that bore the signs of habitation.

    A bleached skeleton hung from a tree that jutted from the cliff''s sheer face, its roots growing deep into the craggy stone. The bones were carved with strange symbols that resembled the ancient languages of old. Before the Spires, when such things were remembered, but were now unneeded.

    From the rock plateau above, at the very top of the island, there were the sounds of a song being sung. Rhythmic and melodious, a sound that could lull a man into walking for miles without noticing nor slowing in his stride.

    Fritz felt his Dusksong react, it shivered and hummed, its own low tones a differing dirge that nonetheless blended, no, elevated the song. Before he knew it he was climbing the cliff, the calls of his friend''s annoying voices, their harsh notes distracting him and ruining the delightful, sensuous voices drifting down from above.

    Further he climbed, focusing on the singing, the captivating music, the siren song that called him.

    Siren song?

    Why was that bad again?

 Arc 2 - Chapter 41

    Fritz ignored the jarring notes coming from below and continued climbing the stone cliff face. His graceful hands easily found the handholds and he pulled himself up, breathing in time with the thrumming beat of the enchanting melody. Something twisted and turned in the back of his mind, but he added that sensation to the things he was already ignoring.

    Nothing mattered but reaching the peak of this tall pillar and finding the singers. He needed to see them, behold them, up close. He was sweating from the endeavour, his hands ached and he would have been panting if he wasn''t still holding his breath. He persevered, redoubling his efforts, afraid the singers would flee or fly away before he got to see them with his own eyes.

    In the shadow of the bent branches of a small tree, stuck out at an angle from the peak''s plateau, he crested the last ridge and almost gasped when he saw the singers.

    They were beautiful, their chests and thighs were bare, their smooth skins shaded in hues from alabaster to oak, and anything in between. Lovely faces, regal, pointed, with yellow or blue eyes as bright and intense as a hawk''s. Those wonderful eyes weren''t looking his way, engrossed as they were in their weaving. That was fortunate, he thought. He didn''t know what he would do if one of their gazes locked on his, he would likely be struck as still as a statue.

    What captured him most of all, was the song, their song, that they sang to each other as they wove the handfuls of seafoam they scooped from driftwood baskets. That song was still pulling at him, drawing him closer as he slipped around the tree''s gnarled trunk, hiding and watching the sirens work. His own Dusksong complimented the rhythmic hypnotic tones, but couldn''t hope to match their peerless voices and the clarity of their high, soothing notes.

    The wonderful, rapturous song continued and he prepared to step forward and introduce himself to the beautiful monsters. However, something caught his eye, not their unblemished skin but their hair, it had an odd texture. Not braided but.. feathered? The twisting feeling in the back of his mind pushed at him again, and the world spun for a second. He focused on the strange feeling and found it slipped into the forefront of his thoughts.

    Enchanting. Sirens. Song. Monsters.

    Fritz stared harder at the women, this time not with appreciation, but with suspicion, squinting as though he were trying to see through a sheet of rain. Something creaked in his mind then there was a crack and his vision misted, then changed.

    Insistent incongruities he had been ignoring were evident in an instant. The creatures before him weren''t women and they weren''t naked. They were covered in feathers in similar hues to their previous glamour, save their strange too human, yet still beastly, heads and arms. They had wings sprouting from their backs and long, yellow-scaled legs that ended in four vicious black talons. Skilled hands with cruel nails wove the seafoam into strands of glittering silk and hung them from the branches of another tree.

    Fritz immediately slunk backwards behind the trunk of his own tree, and wondered why he was up here and where his team was. His palms felt raw and his arms ached. He soon realised what had happened and nearly slapped himself for his idiocy. He should have been more prepared, should have focused his mind far before he had got within hearing distance of the siren song. Peering over the cliff he saw his team still gathered at the bottom of the island, waiting for him to return, and thankfully unaffected by the siren''s enchanting voices and their song''s enthralling notes.

    Fritz had to stop himself from sighing in relief at the sight of his friends, safe as they were. Though he wondered why they didn''t find themselves climbing as he had. Were they just less sustainable to the influence? Did his, still humming, Dusksong cause him to be caught up in the enchantment easier? Maybe. Though he suspected that his powerful senses had been more to blame than his faerie magic. It was a subtle weakness of Perception, but a weakness nonetheless.

    Pulling himself free of his ruminations, Fritz considered his current predicament. Luckily he hadn''t been noticed as he had instinctively stayed in the shadow of the tree he now lurked behind, his Cloak of Dusk obscuring his presence. What should he do? Fight them alone? Could he slay some and drive the others off without his team''s aid? With his new defensive Passive, he felt sure he could make an excellent showing of his skill. Though it might drain him terribly, that and sliding into shadow was an uncomfortable, bitterly cold ordeal.

    For now, Fritz decided to wait and watch for a while longer while he drew his plans against these bird-like foes. And if he saw an opportunity he would leap on it like a starving blight hound. He made to motion at his team as he poked his head and hand over the cliff and found that they couldn''t see him, likely due to his Cloak of Dusk. He was loath to suppress the power lest he reveal himself to the monsters, so he settled on another course of action.

    Picking up a pebble he used his bone blade to carve a message, the glyph for safe on one side and wait on the other. It was surprisingly easy to get the lines right enough to be legible and he smirked at his small triumph. He dropped his stone signal to his team, who startled when it clacked on the rock in the midst of where they were standing.

    Bert picked up the pebble, read both its sides and quickly whispered something he couldn''t hear then raised his arm and gave a thumbs up. The team seemed to relax and sit or lean against the cliff, a sure a sign as any that they understood his orders. With his team''s fear allayed for now, Fritz turned back to the monsters behind.

    There were six sirens, one for each of his team, and they seemed to sense something was amiss even if they were unsure of what troubled them. Maybe it had been the clack of the pebble''s fall or perhaps it was just instinct that had alerted them. Often one would stop weaving and stare around warily before another would nudge it, and chidingly trill at it to resume its task.

    Why they wove the silk who could say, they didn''t seem to wear any of it, content to have their feathery hides keep them warm on these mild peaks. Soon Fritz''s interest in watching the sirens waned and he almost wished he could see their lovely illusory forms again. He shook his head, the thought was unbecoming of a gallant gentleman like himself.

    Soon one of the stick racks of siren silk creaked with the weight of the gleaming threads. Two of the sirens stopped their work and each began piling the thread into primitive baskets. They leapt, then flapped their wings and hovered for a moment. Gripping the basket''s thick handles with their talons, they soon took to the sky. Fritz''s hair was ruffled by the sudden gusts from their wings and he watched them as they flew towards a tall pillar of stone about a mile away from the large island where he had sensed the Stairway.

    When he searched the sky he could see another pair of sirens carrying baskets toward the same pillar. An interesting, if vexing, development. It seemed the true riches may be stored some distance away from the escape route. It became a choice. They could raid the pillar for the hoarded silks, or they could simply kill sirens and loot what they were weaving in the moment. Though something about that plan didn''t sit right with his thief''s heart. That, and he got the impression that maybe there was more to the making of sirensilk than just those long and wonderful lines of gossamer.

    Making his decision, he clambered down the sheer slope to inform his allies of his ideas, and perhaps hear their thoughts on the matter.

    Fritz slipped into view as he left the shadows, and his team greeted him with nods and waves.

    "What did you see?" Cal asked eagerly.

    "Why did you ignore us and start climbing without warning us first?" Lauren added huffily.

    "Sirens," Fritz stated. "As for ignoring you, I may have been caught up in their song due to my much-refined hearing. Fear not, I was able to break its spell on me, and now I should be able to notice its sonorous seductions far sooner."

    "What did they look like?" Bert asked eagerly.

    "Like bird ladies," Fritz said with a sigh, then he regaled them with his observations, and how they had woven the thread and flown it away. He pointed to the large pillar of stone that was seemingly serving as some kind of repository.

    "You said it was just threads?" Lauren asked.

    Fritz nodded.

    "Well, maybe they weave it into bolts of silk cloth there?" Lauren theorised.

    "Could be true," Fritz allowed. "The question is: are we happy just picking off sirens and gathering the thread or do we want to try to raid this supposed silk vault?"

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "Do we have an escape route?" George asked sensibly, putting the damper on the team''s greed.

    "I believe the Stairway is on that larger island, there," Fritz said with a vague wave. "I propose we raid the silk, stuff what we can in our packs. Then start a commotion, or say, start a fire and use the ensuing distraction to make our way to the Stairway."

    "Shouldn''t we at least test ourselves against the monsters, so we know what we''re up against?" George asked.

    "Might give our presence away," Lauren said.

    "We''re likely to be spot-" Bert began before he frowned and turned around. A sweet song drifted on the wind, enticing and entreating Fritz to look its way.

    There a hundred feet across the sea on a section of jutting stones were three women. They were beautiful and each waved their arm in the air in greeting, their mouths open and calling for the team to swim to them. Fritz had felt the song before and recognised its enchanting effect. Immediately, he embraced that twisting in the back of his mind and pushed with it. The world wobbled for a second and his compromised senses rioted before being restored to reality.

    Fritz cursed himself, they had been caught off guard and none had yet taken the remedy meant to help them. Neither had they deafened themselves with the earplugs of cloth they had fashioned the night before. He should''ve insisted they do so as soon as they started swimming from one island to another.

    After shaking his head, he quickly seized Bert''s shoulder and shook him. His friend had begun to walk towards the sea with one of the widest grins Fritz had ever seen plastered on his face.

    "Fritz, you fool, stop shaking me! There are some bare beauties in need of help," Bert exclaimed, scowling as Fritz tried to spin him away. "They''ve even lost their clothes, how terrible!"

    "Yes, we must help them at once!" Lauren said loudly, her eyes wide and an eager smile on her face as she stared at the singing sirens. "I can''t countenance leaving such lovely ladies in such a delicate state."

    Cal looked on mouth agape, nearly salivating, while Rosie and George stared on in mild confusion and placid calm. His whole team had been captured by the soft, song before he could even blink.

    "Bert, focus and take your tonic. All of you! Take the damn tonic!" Fritz commanded. His words registered but they all soon turned back to staring at the sirens. Bert even went so far as to shake Fritz''s hand off his shoulder and step forward into the sea.

    Fritz pulled on his humming Dusksong, though not to use one of his Abilities and forced it into his voice, hoping to give it a jarring cadence that broke through the song''s just for a second.

    "Take the tonic!" He repeated, his tone taking on a keening hiss that startled them out of their dazed states. Bert stopped in his tracks and his hand went to his now furrowed brow. Closing his eyes, he groaned, like he was recovering from a long night of heavy drinking.

    George frowned and his hand went to his pouch and took out the vial filled with a pale green liquid that was said to help with confusion. Rosie soon followed. They each grimaced as they drank, but soon their eyes cleared and they shook their heads, banishing the enrapturing music and seeing the sirens for what they were.

    The only two who ignored Fritz''s command and kept moving were Lauren and Cal, trudging forward as if sleepwalking.

    "Bert, grab Cal and feed him the tonic! George, same for Lauren," Fritz ordered as he sloughed off his pack and pulled the raider''s quiver from it, slinging it over his shoulder and preparing to retrieve the bow from its hidden space.

    His team acted slowly as if moving through mud and fog, while they had mostly shaken off the song it had still left them disorientated. Bert seized Cal by the arm and dragged him back from the sea while George stood between Lauren and the sirens while he scrambled for another of the vials.

    Shadows flitted overhead and with a gust of air and a terrible shriek, four sirens landed, surrounding him and his team. One was coloured like a dove with pure white feathers and pale skin. Another appeared more like an eagle with tawny feathers and tanned arms and face. The next resembled a seagull, all greys and whites, and the last a storm hawk, dark of feather and complexion with those same lightning blue eyes.

    Razor talons and sharp nails tore out at Fritz. He could already feel bloody slices cut through his flesh and he dodged backwards with his preternatural grace and prodigious foresight, foiling the swift raking assault. He abandoned his previous plan and stepped forward, drawing Quicksilver upward in a glittering arc, severing an all-too-human arm and bisecting the tawny wing behind. Bloody feathers fell and the siren screeched in fear and surprise. In its retreat, it tripped over a jutting stone, then toppled into the ocean where it writhed in the current pulling it away.

    He turned to the next monster only to see that although he was unharmed his team weren''t so lucky. Bert''s arm, raised to block, burst with blood as the pale siren''s nails carved through his Tough Skin and caught on bone. He grunted, but instantly replied to the monster''s blow with a right hook, roiling with nigh invisible waves. The punch caught the siren on the cheek and swept it off its taloned feet. It was flung sideways with immense force, straight into the cliff where it impacted with a sound reminiscent of cracking an egg.

    Sever screamed and the dark siren shrieked with it as its body was cleaved in half vertically by George''s copper greatsword. He wiped the blood from his eye, a gash on his forehead spilling red down his face.

    The last of the remaining beasts pressed long nails into Lauren''s shoulders and attempted to drag her into the ocean. She barely resisted as confusion and pain alighted on her face as she frowned at the hands digging into her and the blood trickling down them.

    "Ow, stop! Unhand me!" Lauren cried.

    The siren seemed to smile, baring its fangs like those of a shark, if much smaller. When Lauren began to thrash and try to throw the siren off it made to bite her neck, only to be met with the flash and roar of sudden flame. The siren was immolated, its feathers the perfect fuel for Lauren''s clinging fire. It barely got to shriek and stagger back before it screamed into a conflagration and its body blackened before their very eyes.

    With the four monsters close by dealt with, Fritz stared to the island for the ones who had been singing and had distracted them enough for the ambush. The singers had disappeared and he quickly looked up to see them diving. They were dark shadows against the blue sky, swooping with talons outstretched.

    "Duck!" Fritz ordered as he himself stood tall to trick them into targeting him rather than his team. A stupid proposition for a Scout normally, but with his Danger Sense he had full confidence in dodging the swiftly approaching talons. His team obeyed throwing themselves at the stone.

    As they dove the sirens screeched in unison, the high notes rattling his ribs and unexpected terror blooming in his chest at the soul-piecing wail. He fast threw off the fear and readied himself to slip past the strikes.

    Fritz could feel the talon coming, splitting his shoulder and scoring the bone. The wind whooshed as a siren passed him in a flicker of feathers. He had thought that he would be able to dodge, but the slicing strike came too swiftly. Fritz found himself immersed in a bleak chill as he shifted into shadow, his Umbral Phase activating as a talon slid through his body as if he were a shade.

    Spinning, Fritz tried to slash the beast as if flew by, but in that moment his blade was just as insubstantial as he was and didn''t so much as part its plumage. The other two sirens darted by in quick succession. Sparks flew as one of their talons struck Rosie''s helm with a clang. The other beast let out a cry as it thumped into Bert. He had leapt for it and its long claws buried themselves into his flesh.

    The siren tried to escape but found its talons stuck within the madman. He grinned bloodily and spat red into its eyes as he spun, throwing it at the ground and landing on top of it. The beast''s bones broke from the brutal maneuver and it soon died when Bert''s fist came down on its head in a solid hammer blow, shattering its skull.

    The two untouched sirens wheeled around in the air, coming back for a second swoop. Bert made to stand but found the monster he had recently killed was stuck to him, its claws still hooked in his flesh, and talons buried deep.

    Fritz rapidly planned as he turned to face the next assault.

    "Lauren get up and use your ring on my mark," Fritz ordered. "Then let loose. Everyone else, stay down!"

    Lauren nodded, frowning but steeling her resolve and watching the beast''s swift approach.

    "Now!" Fritz cried activating his own ring in tandem.

    The protective second-skins, his nearly invisible and hers of made water, slipped into place and within a heartbeat the talons collided with their barriers.

    Fritz was more ready this time and timed his slash nearly perfectly, hacking a wing right off the siren that had targeted him while a flash of flame billowed over the one focusing on Lauren. The de-winged beast tumbled out of the air and the other went up like an oily rag and joined its kin crashing into the sea.

    With the last sirens dying or drowning the shrieking had been silenced, leaving them in a sudden lull filled only with sizzling and the slapping of waves against stone.

    "Yeouch," Bert yelled as he tore the siren''s claws and talons from his chest and dumped the broken body on the ground. His wounds bled freely but already the flow was beginning to slow.

    "Everyone okay?" Fritz asked, looking over his team as they also searched the area for foes.

    There was a chorus of yes''s and Lauren grumbled under her breath and winced as she prodded the holes in her shoulder with a finger.

    "These better not scar," she groused, pulling a tin of healing grease from her pouch and applying it liberally.

    "I''m sure the Well will deal with it," Fritz said assuredly, throwing Bert another tin of the grease as he slathered the last of his own tin on a wound that went almost all the way through his side.

    "Are you sure you''re going to be okay, Bert?" George asked. "Those gashes look mighty vicious."

    "I''ll be fine. Take care of that cut on your head before worrying about me," Bert replied with a wan grin.

    The man did so and after the team piled the non-charred or lost-at-sea sirens in a pile.

    "Look a bit different without the illusion," Cal said sheepishly.

    "Far less alluring," Lauren observed.

    "Less naked you mean," Rosie stated with an attempt at a smirk.

    Lauren flushed minutely, but ignored the comment, instead explaining, "Apparently, the feathers are worth something. Though I''m not sure I have the stomach to pluck them."

    "Don''t you dare say a thing," Fritz said, cutting Bert off before he said something improper.

    "I wasn''t going to say anything," he replied innocently, which only made him sound more guilty.

    "I''ll do it," Rosie offered. "Pluck them, I mean. Won''t be too hard, they''re just big seagulls. With odd hands and heads."

    "Yes, of course," Fritz agreed, kneeling down with Rosie as she started to tear feathers from the tawny siren. "We should take what we can."

    With that the team got to work, although Lauren had been somewhat right, their human-like features did make him a little queasy as they stripped the feathers. However Rosie had been even more correct, they weren''t human and shared very little resemblance to people without their illusion. Even their faces, on closer inspection, looked wrong, far too avian. They were thin, almost skin and bone underneath their plumage, without the smoothness or curves of their disguises.

    They were monsters through and through and bore far more resemblance to birds than he had suspected. Though there was still some uneasiness, made even more apparent by Bert not suggesting that they cook the sirens up for lunch. Fritz supposed that was a step too far, for everyone.

    Soon they had three small sacks stuffed with feathers, and Fritz checked the island''s peak for silk threads. Finding none he climbed back down. With the grizzly work all done, they flung the sirens into the sea and discussed what to do next.

    "Are we still all for robbing them of their silk? Now that we''ve fought them and have some of their measure?" Fritz asked.

    The team nodded and agreed.

    "I''ll have them pay me back for these wounds," Lauren said, glaring into the distance. "And scar-erasing cream can cost a fortune."

    "It is lucky, then, that they possess a fortune," Fritz said. "Let''s go pillage that pillar and steal those silks."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 42

    Fritz surfaced at the base of the tall, wide stone pillar. He pulled himself onto the small craggy shore around it and quickly plugged his ears with wet rags. He stared around at his team, most of which had swam here much quicker than himself and had been waiting. They were deafened with rags just as he was and Bert signed a question at him.

    "Rest?"

    Fritz peered up at the daunting climb, sighed and signed back, "Rest. Nine minutes. Hide."

    When he flashed nine fingers at the rest of the team they seemed to get his meaning and took cover behind some of the taller stones on the shore, hiding while taking some time to recover from their swim. It had taken some time and some peril to get here. They had been set upon by two trios of sirens as they had approached. The new addition of cloth earplugs and the potency of the tonic had much reduced the threat of the enthralling song, and they were able to fend off and slay the beasts handily.

    Once the team was able to scramble onto land that is. When swimming from island to island they had to dive below the waves to dodge the talons of the swooping, screeching sirens as they were assaulted from above.

    Still, when they had sturdy, if slippy, stone under their feet the sirens stood no chance. Even if they were strong and fast, the team were Pathers and steadily growing into their new powers. Cal''s Guided Toss was incredibly potent, especially when combined with his Heave. He was able to throw head-sized rocks as easily as pebbles. Those soaring stones unerringly sought the sirens in the sky, flying straight into the beasts'' paths as they attempted to slip past, shattering wings or caving in chests or skulls.

    It was an absurd synergy and one Fritz couldn''t help but be envious of, even if he preferred his own ability to survive things he had no right to. In fact, many of the team''s powers were appealing in their own various ways and past the niggling envy he felt a kind of pride that he had dragged them this far. When they left the Spire, they would be golden Climbers, level ten and far more able to dictate the shape of their futures. He and Bert however would still have to tread carefully. Though level twenty was nothing to scoff at, Fritz knew that some rare few of the Nightshark''s enforcers were still at a greater level. He shook his head, dismissing thoughts of the outside and what he''d have to do to keep himself and his family safe.

    Leaning on the pillar, Fritz considered the current Floor, hoping that the team''s repetitive exposure to the enchanting tones of the sirens'' voices would help inure them to future mental or sound attacks. Or perhaps offer them an Ability that did so at the next Well. With his own Ability channels all filled, Fritz wondered what sort of evolutions he would be offered or how that even worked, he was in unknown territory as far as the next stage of Powers worked. Normally he would''ve asked Lauren about it as they rested, but alas, she couldn''t hear.

    The nine minutes passed by quickly, and Fritz planned a route to an entrance to what he supposed was a system of caves within. Surprisingly, he and his team weren''t spotted by any of the incoming or outgoing sirens delivering their silk threads and leaving with empty baskets. The monsters obviously hadn''t noticed their missing kin and must have thought the pillar completely safe and secure.

    Deciding to forgo scouting ahead for now, Fritz motioned for his team to follow. He climbed up the sheer face of rock, taking the easiest route so that Lauren wouldn''t suffer too much. After a gruelling six minutes of struggle, he clambered into the cave mouth he had noted before. His team were soon gathered around him and they looked at the passage''s walls with some wonder. He followed their gazes and realised that the dark of the cave was lit by glowing, grey lichen that grew in uneven patches.

    He had missed it due to his Dark Vision. It rendered everything as visible as if it were a cloudless day, something he was only now familiar with due to the Spires. He grumbled inwardly at the light, he would have to be careful where he stood to make the best use of Cloak of Dusk.

    Fritz bid his team wait with some more hand gestures and they nodded. He quickly assessed their condition. Bert was as healthy as ever. Rosie and her brother looked a little tired, but it''d pass soon enough. George seemed fine and nudged Cal, gesturing to the raider''s pack and then to himself. Getting the message that George wanted his armour, Cal quickly obliged.

    Lauren panted as she leaned against a wall, the climbing and swimming had been rather rough on her due to her lower physical Attributes. She hadn''t wanted to use her boot''s Imbued Ability, explaining it would make her an easier target for the sirens. Even if he agreed with the sensible sentiment, he was still a little disappointed he didn''t get to see Icewalk in action.

    Fritz considered his own reserves, he was half full on Dusksong, and although his body, especially his arms, ached from all the climbing and swimming he couldn''t say that he was truly tired yet. It had to be all the good meals he''d been getting recently, triply so to them being mostly monster meat. His nine Endurance didn''t hurt either.

    Turning and slipping into a shadowed nook, Fritz ventured deeper into the tunnel of stone. As he snuck closer to what he was sure was the centre chamber, he heard the soothing call of the siren''s song again. The sound was getting louder and louder as he slowly approached, overwhelming the protection of his rag-stuffed ears.

    He fumbled with his remedy pouch and retrieved the mind-clearing tonic, drinking its bitter contents down in one quick swallow. The intense taste of the tonic lingered on his tongue, sharpening his attention further on his own state. Immediately the strange fuzzing at the edges of his senses ceased. It seemed the enthralling, dazing power of the song had already been creeping up on him without him being aware of it.

    Fritz reasserted his Control and Focus, banishing the song from his mind, then with a twist of the shadowy magic in his centre forced his Dusksong to hum a different rhythm, wrapping himself in an opposing tone. The insideous calmness retreated, replaced with cruel conviction, and he pressed forward.

    The song grew louder still, the many beautiful voices resonating in his chest and ringing on his bones. He resisted and drew closer to an opening lit with fire light, then peeked within the chamber beyond, from which the calling chorus resounded.

    Great braziers illuminated the huge room, the coils of wood smoke floating into holes in the stone cavernous roof. The walls were covered, hung with long curtains of glittering silk that reflected, refracted the fire light, filling the chamber with scintillating radiance.

    Three glamorously feathered sirens, wreathed with bright sashes of shimming silk, worked the gleaming threads, weaving them into sheets of shining cloth. Their hands moved smoothly and their long nails were far more precise and practised than those of the ones Fritz had observed before. It was their powerful voices that led the song of their lesser sisters. Who were arrayed with bright ribbons and lent their help when and where it was needed, following the melody easily as if it were a stream of simple orders.

    All told there were twenty-four of the avian women, all in the colours of common birds, save the leaders whose bright plumage more resembled the rare parrots of Portus Hai and other lands with warmer weather.

    Having seen what he needed to see, and worrying that he would soon be overwhelmed by the insistent enthralling song, Fritz retreated back to his team. When he arrived he found them standing around some siren corpses in the process of being plucked and plundered. Apparently, the beasts had flown in while he''d been away and the team had dealt with them easily. Springing on them and slaying them as they swooped into the cave mouth.

    With a few hand signals, he proposed a plan. He had decided on simplicity as the key to easy victory. A frontal assault with Bert and himself leading the way to disrupt the song as best they could. Then, once the sound had stalled, the rest would charge. He also ordered Lauren not to use her flames, suspecting that the draped silks would ignite with but a spark, turning the chamber into an inferno in seconds. She nodded reluctantly but saw the reasoning behind his warning gestures.

    If the team wondered why he and Bert were to lead the attack they couldn''t articulate it in their current state of deafness. The answer was simple, but also a secret he couldn''t reveal. The Gold Award, Reignbreaker, would let them resist effects like the siren''s song and, now that he thought about it, the drizzler''s Bind.

    He had also considered the poisons and the sleeping concoction they had found in the raider''s pack but decided against using them. Even in such a large chamber, he felt that his own team would suffer more from the soporific effects of the gas than their foes would. And, unpractised as they were in the ways of envenoming weapons, they risked poisoning themselves when handling the various vials and the deadly substances within. Again, simplicity would be the way to win this fight. The less unfamiliar variables in their battle plan the better it would work. Or so Fritz hoped.

    He led them forward, deeper into the cave and stopped the team, ordering them to stay when he felt his Dusksong roil within him. A small sign the song was getting too strong for those without some kind of true resistance.

    Soon he and Bert were by the entrance to the lavishly adorned weaving room, and with a nod Fritz signalled his friend to rush in.

    Bert seemed somewhat dazed but obeyed nonetheless, activating his Ability and blurring towards one of the sashed sirens. He hit it with a monumental force, throwing it bodily into a long curtain of green silk that gleamed with a blue sheen. It hit the stone wall beyond, its wings and limbs snapped, broken it fell to the ground where it collapsed in a twisted heap. Fritz slipped into the chamber a moment after, when all the monsters had turned their gazes from the sight of one of their shattered leaders to the intruder in their midst. Even after such a shock, their song stuttered for only a moment, and they continued voicing the bewitching melody.

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    Another of the sash bearer''s beat its azure wings in Bert''s direction, buffeting him with a sudden gust. He endured it, keeping his feet, if barely. But the wind was so powerful it almost knocked Fritz down even though it wasn''t aimed at him. The hanging silks cracked and snapped in the sudden gale, and the last of the leaders, one festooned with scarlet feathers, took control of the song, directing its kin into changing their tone and rhythm to something far more subtle and seductive.

    The lesser sirens followed her lead, lending their voices to hers. Fritz was assaulted with powerful feelings of passion, and that illusory, bare, beauty became apparent again. A host of lithe lovely ladies all singing to him, calling him to embrace them and accept their caresses. Oh, how that would feel, to have those elegant claws, run over, tear into, his skin. Bert stopped in his tracks and near drooled as he stared over the beguiling host.

    Fritz pushed away the intrusive mental attack, slipped through the net it cast over his senses. As if he were looking through a heat haze, just underneath the seductive, wavering glamour, he could see their monstrous forms again. Fritz pretended to trudge dumbly toward the leading singer. He put on a stupid grin, trying to get as close as he could to the scarlet-clad, feathered, woman, siren. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately since he could feel himself falling under the sway of the music again, another of the lesser beasts swept a claw at his arm.

    His Danger Sense was delayed, likely due to the current deluge of illusory magic swirling his mind, but before his armour and flesh were rent he was able to dodge the blow with a graceful step to the side. He cursed and drew Quicksilver, stabbing a siren with his blade''s sharp point before tearing it out and slicing off the arm of another beast that tried to slash at him.

    It wasn''t long before he was being swarmed from all sides. He dashed forwards, slipping through the rain of raking claws and slashing talons and arriving before his silk sashed foe. He activated his barrier ring only for its protection to be dispersed by a swift strike from the scarlet siren. The sudden attack was more akin to a spear thrust than a kick and Fritz was able to slide around it, harnessing his Grace to slightly spin on one foot and bring Quicksilver down on the, still outstretched, scaly leg.

    He activated Gloom Strike for good measure as the black, razor-edged blade descended, coating it in sticky, smoking wisps of shade. He made the right choice, the siren only noticed his strike at the last moment, wasting its chance to dodge with a hastily aborted attempt to claw at Fritz''s throat.

    Quicksilver bit through scales and carved through flesh until it caught on strong, hollow bone. Fritz grimaced, then pulled, grinding, sawing the rest of the limb off. The leg fell to the silk laden ground, as did the siren. The beast writhed and shrieked, its song destroyed. Fritz put the siren out of its misery, leaping over a flailed talon and plunging his blade into the monsters heart, rendering its voice finally silent.

    The greater song didn''t stop, but without someone leading it the tones became discordant and muddled. Though he had slain one of their leaders, or maybe because of it, the remaining sirens renewed their furious swarming assault. Even as they did so the melodic enchantment faded away. Bert broke out from his stupor and Fritz could think clearly again. No longer dazed and dulled, and with his Senses restored to their full potency, Fritz raised his two weapons and began a deadly dance of black and bone.

    He slinked and spun through the storm of talons and claws, untouchable as an evening shadow. When he evaded he struck back if he had an opening, though they were hard to find when beset on all sides. Still, Quicksilver and Mortal Edge were taking their deadly toll on the sirens, beast after beast fell to his blades and his friend''s fists. For a few moments Fritz thought that perhaps he and Bert wouldn''t need the team''s help at all in this battle.

    Of course, as soon as he mused as such he was proven suddenly, horribly, wrong. The azure-plumed siren pulled in a huge breath, puffing out her feathered breast. Then it screeched and all the others echoed it. The sheer volume of the piercing scream shook his flesh and rattled his bones. His hands went to the sides of his head, shielding his plugged ears as he fell to his knees. his weapons clattered beside him but he couldn''t hear them. If his ears hadn''t already been protected, Fritz was sure the brutal waves of noise would have ruptured something deep within them.

    Bert also dropped, clutching at his head and bleeding ears. He struggled then stood, shrugging off the aural assault. Even as Fritz endured, he could see that Bert was both closer to the azure siren and the screeches were aimed at him. The terrible pitch reached an unbearable crescendo and Bert fell on his back. Writhing and yelling for three whole agonising moments, then he fell limp.

    The shrieking stopped, and though Fritz''s ears still screamed, everything stood still. Then the sirens turned their bird-like glares on Fritz. He cursed and reached for Quicksilver, dropped in his haste to save his hearing. They screeched again, stopping his movement dead. Waves of sound washed over him, drowning him. His whole body trembled and it felt like his heart would explode from the pressure. He covered his head with his arms and wrapped himself into a ball, screaming the whole time.

    Again the shrieking chorus cut off, and distantly, through his Awareness, he could feel the sirens surround him. His danger sense sought to warn him of all the talons and claws that would soon tear his flesh from his bones. But he could do nothing, his muscles wouldn''t listen to him and twitched uncontrollably. He managed only to roll onto his back, avoiding the descending talon of the azure siren as it bared its knife-tip teeth in an evil grin.

    A grin that was soon destroyed by a fist-sized stone colliding with it. Fritz could hear yelling, muffled as it was by that deafening ringing in his ears he couldn''t quite tell who''s it was. Maybe George''s yell? They were too late though he could already feel a claw ripping open his throat. Or he did until Rosie appeared by his side in a blur and slew the beast attacking him with a chop of her sanguine-hued silver pick. She took a few more slashes meant for him and though they would have sliced him to ribbons they only left small furrows on her scales or shallow cuts on her skin.

    George charged into the swarm, adorned in this iron armour. The sirens clawed at him but their strikes found no soft skin to part, only metal that sparked when they scratched it. Seeing the bulky man in their midst wouldn''t go down, they made to screech again. But their voices carried little of the power they held before and they were summarily sliced into pieces by a copper greatsword empowered with Sharpen Blade and channelling Sever. Limbs went flying, blood splashed and soaked the silks on the stone ground.

    Fritz ceased struggling, content with watching his team take on the last of their foes. There had to be about fifteen left after Bert and Fritz''s initial assault. His team took them on fearlessly and unmuddled, the siren''s song having been stifled by the deaths of two of the greater beasts. The four fought and they were making a good show of it.

    Rosie and George were able to easily take the sharp claws on armour or scales and return the blows with deadly strikes of their own. Cal, who had taken to carrying stones in his Personal Pack, threw appallingly accurate rocks at their wings and heads. Even Lauren, who had held back so as not to set anything alight, managed to slay a few sirens with her shortsword. She needn''t have been so careful, it turned out, as the sirensilk was surprisingly hard to set aflame. It made sense in retrospect, it was woven of the sea, why wouldn''t it have some resistance to fire?

    Fritz only got a modicum of strength back by the time the last beast was slain by a particularly brutal application of a warpick straight to its skull.

    "WELL DONE!" Fritz yelled as Rosie pushed the siren off the point of her pick with a kick.

    She said something back but he couldn''t quite make it out.

    "WHAT!?" Fritz asked.

    Rosie gestured to her ear and pulled the rag out of it. Fritz did the same, not showing any of the embarrassment he felt. To his mild terror, he found that the cloth was bloody. Fritz quickly took out a healing tonic from his pouch and drank it down. The weak remedy would likely do very little for his ears but he knew it couldn''t hurt.

    Rosie repeated herself but it sounded like he was underwater, the tone too garbled and low to make out the words.

    "CANT HEAR YOU," he said. "SIRENS SHATTERED MY EARS. WE''LL HAVE TO GET TO A WELL. I THINK."

    Fritz stared back to the team with a smile, hiding his fear over his injury. A debilitating one for a scout. Still, he had to console himself with the knowledge that his Awareness and other senses didn''t need his hearing. Though the thought gave him an idea on how to ''train'' his Awareness and Senses and become more refined at their usage. An interesting idea, for later.

    Lauren stepped towards him, raising her hands, talking. He could make out the words ''Soothe Burn'' from reading her lips. He nodded, letting her cup her warm palms to the sides of his head. The ringing dulled somewhat as did the sharp, dizzying pain. Alas, his hearing didn''t return, her minor healing was helpful, but seemingly not suited to the wound he had taken, limiting its effectiveness.

    Lauren asked him a question and he shook his head. She tried again, her shoulders sagging from the Stamina drain. Again, it helped a little but not enough to count for much. After the second attempt he waved her off, running the woman ragged for such slight recovery wasn''t worth it. With a tired nod she acquiesced.

    Switching to hand signs and pantomiming, Fritz ordered the team to start gathering the silks, which they took to quickly, after a small rest. Lauren took command of the venture, her experience as a merchant coming to the forefront. She had them separate the bloody silks from the pristine ones and even as they did they each marvelled at the splendour of the gleaming fabrics as they gathered them from the walls, floor or bodies.

    While Fritz couldn''t understand exactly what they were saying he could tell that they were loving the sirensilk. Parading around with all the differently dyed cloth draped over their frames, joking and laughing as they piled them on and over each other. Even the sorry sight of the sirens, where they were being piled by Bert and George, couldn''t put a damper on their mirth. Fritz himself was wrapping himself in purples, greys and blacks while Lauren went for greens and yellows. Rosie and Cal ended up with a hodge-podge of multicoloured madness and George stuck to golds and reds, though he had to compete with Bert for those.

    Sirensilk was a wondrous fabric indeed, it glittered and gleamed with many hues, the light itself seemed giddy to dance on its sleek surface. It was fine and tough, preposterously so, strong as boiled leather yet as thin as paper. Soft and smooth, it almost felt like cool water flowing over his skin as he let a pale-blue, nearly transparent length of fabric fall through his fingers. Already he could see why the nobles and the wealthy would pay so much for this. Even his own silken undergarments, which he had thought the height of comfort and luxury, felt scratchy and stiff in comparison.

    Once they had their fun with the silk and had stored, stuffed really, the absurd amount away in their packs, they got onto the far more grim task of plucking the sirens and stuffing their feathers in sacks. Fritz wasn''t too sure about how much siren silk was in a bolt, or how many bolts they had managed to gather. Though he was sure that they''d found a real fortune, and that wasn''t even counting the feathers. So much wealth. And it was all theirs, well, once they made it out.

    Soon they had taken all they could, leaving the chamber bare and bloody and carrying what they could of the sanguine-soaked silk. Climbing back down the pillar, they set to washing the bloodied cloth, trying to save what they could from staining. It was a somewhat amusing experience, beating the siren silk on the wet stone, like it was linen and they were merely commoners doing their laundry, instead of Climbers who were handling precious materials worth their weight in gold.

    They were done salvaging what they could of the almost ruined silk in an hour, and rapidly made the wise decision to leave the Floor with their current loot. Fritz especially was emphatic about wanting to move straight to the next Well to get his hearing back. Bert was of the same opinion and boomed it loudly, causing the team to wince from the sudden shout. Luckily, the team agreed easily, much buoyed by their sudden windfall. Before they left, they sent Bert back up the cliff and into the cave, his mission to ignite the pile of dead beasts they had left behind. Soon thicker, blacker smoke started to leak from the pillar''s many tunnels and Bert made his way back to them.

    He dived from the cave''s mouth and splashed into the sea before them before climbing back onto the shore. With the team gathered and their packs and pouches secure, Fritz led the way, as usual, swimming from island to island as they made their way to the cliff with the tallest peak. Though Fritz had suspected they would be spotted and attacked, hounded the entire way, it was not so. It seemed that the fire they had left behind had distracted enough of the flying beasts to make their staggered approach to the Stairways island an uncontested journey.

    From there it was easy, the dark caves and tunnels of the stone island couldn''t hinder Fritz one bit. In fact, it gave him a great advantage over any sirens sleeping or stalking the passages, he could easily slip behind them and cut their throats with his dagger without them so much as seeing him in the dim light, when there was any.

    After some pulses of his Awareness and a lot of winding through the mostly-deserted tunnels, Fritz eventually led them right to the Stairway. With a grin and a shout of joy, he was the first one up the scaly steps his fellows not far behind.

    He couldn''t help but think: It''s great when things finally go to plan.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 43

    Fritz strode up the familiar stone scale steps, two at a time, eagerly entering the Well room and searching for the font of Power within. He needed its healing energies. It was disconcerting, only being able to hear a high whine and the fast thud of his heart. The walls of room he had just stepped within were rimmed with many small alcoves set with statues or mosaics.

    He rapidly located the Well, it was part of the leftmost wall. A glowing mosaic of that same scaled stone as most of the Mer Spire was comprised of, painted with vivid colour and even more vivid depictions of women, sirens he realised, beckoning to the ships of raiders, pirates and sailors alike. Fritz didn''t look too long at the depicted scene and its rough rocks, sinking ships, flayed men and tempestuous temptresses. He''d had enough of sirens to last him a lifetime, maybe three.

    He placed a hand upon the mosaic, on the image of a sunken chest of treasure slipping from the hole of a ship''s hull. When the cool magics poured into him he directed what he could to the recovery of his ears. The ringing subsided and the low muffled tones of voices came back into sharp relief, back with full clarity. He revelled in his restored hearing, he could clearly make out what his team were saying, then was immediately annoyed.

    "The first thing you do is grope a chest," Bert said, loudly. "Right back to your old tricks, Fritz. I''m disappointed."

    He turned back to his team to see them all smirking at him. A bad habit, and one he would have to rectify.

    "It''s the Well, and it''s a wooden chest, see," Fritz explained, stepping to the side, allowing them a better view.

    "That''s why I''m disappointed!" He replied, which earned him some shakes of the head and a muttered "disgusting" from Lauren.

    Scowling but somewhat amused by the turnabout, Fritz moved out of his friend''s way as he strode to the mosaic and slapped his hand right on a painted siren.

    "Huh, it''s not doing anything for me," Bert said.

    "Try the one of the masts, I heard you''re fond of that too," Fritz said.

    Bert grinned. While the other began to crowd in and place their hands on the Well.

    "No power," Lauren said.

    "Nothing for me either," Rosie said.

    When George and Cal found the same, the team began to look around.

    "That one is glowing," George said, pointing to a depiction of a silver sword.

    "Doesn''t look like it to me," Bert said.

    "Must be split up," Lauren said, shrugging and strolling over to where her Well seemed to be. It turned out to be a statue of a regal woman in robes holding a stone star in one hand and a staff in the other.

    Each of the team moved to their own Wells, received their power, then reconvened in the bare centre of the room. Fritz thought this a good a time as any to talk strategy and go over the mistakes, and successes, of the last floor, of which there were plenty.

    "I think we should''ve been more prepared, the tonics, while helpful, were not enough to save us from the siren song," Lauren began.

    "I agree," Fritz said. "Though Bert and I handled it in the end."

    "Barely," Bert interjected.

    "There was no way those remedies would''ve helped against the greater sirens and their flock. That, and I didn''t expect the power of the shriek, the raw amount of sound was too much."

    "We almost died," Bert said. "If not for the timely arrival of the team. Just as planned."

    "Just as planned," Fritz echoed in agreement.

    "You planned to get deafened and almost killed?" Cal asked sceptically.

    "I was fine," Fritz lied. "My shadow mana was full, my barrier ring at the ready and my Umbral Phase was there to save me."

    While he was right about his layered defences, the fight had been decided on a knife''s edge. He didn''t know if his protections would have worked against that screech at the end. And eventually, all his tricks could be overcome through sheer numbers. Though he didn''t feel that he had been in too much trouble, not until he had been stunned by raw sound, and even then he couldn''t quite believe that he''d been in deadly peril. Nor did he feel that same deep weariness or raw nerves he had after his other near-fatal encounters.

    Maybe he was becoming numb to the constant danger? Or maybe he''d come to trust in his team? Or maybe the fear would come later, turning up as another nightmare? Perhaps, even though his power was still meagre compared to someone like the king or the Scale Guard, his newfound strength and triumphs had helped him steel his courage and resolve. Was this what all experienced Climbers eventually felt? His father had been fearless, or at least, portrayed himself as such. Was he destined for the same?

    Too many questions, but he was glad of one thing, that it did get better. Not all would be dread and despair, even in the brutal trials of a Spire.

    "Splitting the team worked," Bert said, pulling Fritz out of his thoughts. "You lot would have been instantly enthralled by the scarlet siren''s song."

    "Still, next time we fight sirens we should be more prepared," Lauren said. "We can''t have you two deaf and wounded for half a Floor."

    Fritz couldn''t disagree so he didn''t.

    "You''re right, of course, however..." Fritz said.

    "Look at all this sirensilk!" Bert finished for him, opening his pack and flinging some sheets of silk up and over the team.

    Lauren tried to scowl but she soon smiled, her eyes glittering with delight as the shining fabric floated in the air and fell across across her hair.

    "It is nice," she admitted, grasping a patch of silk and running it through her fingers.

    "What does it do?" Rosie asked. "Is it magic or just pretty and soft?"

    "That''s a good question. Lauren, you know things, what do you know about this wonderful silk?" Fritz asked wrapping a scarlet sash around his neck like a scarf.

    "Well, from what I learned in my mother''s store and from what Sapphire told me, this is quite the fabulous fabric, one that is much sought after even beyond Rain City," Lauren explained.

    "Really? I didn''t think our ''grand'' city had anything other kingdoms would want," Fritz said.

    "Every Spire, even minor ones, produces something valuable. Just how valuable that particular material is might be variable, depending more on its uses rather than pure rarity. The Mer Spire is one of the more consistent suppliers of sirensilk, and is one of the goods Rain City is known for," she continued. "There are other precious materials the Spires provide though. The Rain Spire is known to create Rainstones, that badge you found has one. It also supplies the water-aligned iron that can be forged into Rainsteel. And that''s not all, there are unique Treasures, such as Raincallers and Weather Watches."

    "Rain this and rain that, can''t they be more creative with the names," Fritz bemoaned.

    "Makes sense to me, comes from rain Spire put rain in the name," Bert said.

    "Climbers not poets," Lauren agreed. "And you wouldn''t want to get rainsteel confused with cloudiron or seasteel, which have far different properties even if they share alignments."

    "There''s a lot of water stuff like that?" Rosie asked.

    "More than I can remember without a list," Lauren replied. "Not just water either, the Rain spire has an air and cloud alignment as well. Along with some hints of lightning and weather."

    "Those alignments aren''t the same thing?" Cal asked.

    "No. Though I don''t know where the line is really drawn on these things. You''d need to find a scholar for that," Lauren sighed.

    "And the sirensilk?" Fritz reminded gently.

    "Oh. Yes. Sirensilk is stronger than other cloth, far stronger than mundane materials. It''s particularly resistant to being cut or stabbed, though it doesn''t do much against a club or a mace, you would need padding for that. And it takes to enchantment well, even if the silk is water-aligned."

    "Is that bad?" Bert asked, wrapping a long, red ribbon around his knuckles.

    "Not bad per se," Lauren said, tilting her head this way and that. "Though it does effect the efficiency and the kind of inscriptions it can hold. For example, it would be better at receiving water-aligned enhancements, like cleansing or waterproofing. Not that it needs the proofing, mind you. Water slips right through it, making it dry out almost instantly and nearly weightless when submerged."

    "Sounds wonderful," Fritz said.

    "I''ve heard it is, we should keep some for ourselves, get something nice made by a tailor, rather than sell it all off," Lauren suggested.

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    Fritz, and seemingly the entire team, couldn''t help by agree.

    "I''ll get me a dress," Rosie said. "All pretty and stuff."

    "I''ll likely have battle-robes made," Lauren stated.

    "I don''t have much use for new clothes, these are all I need," Bert said motioning to his pristine clothes, that he must have mended recently with its Imbuement. "But this stuff feels pretty good as a hand-wrap."

    "I''ll get a whole outfit done. Trousers, shirt, and socks," Fritz proclaimed. "As befitting someone of my noble station."

    "I might just have to do the same," George agreed. "Though I''m more inclined to have some underarmour clothes made of it. And get some cooling runes sewn in."

    "A grand choice," Bert said.

    "How much gold do you think we''d get for all this if we sold it all?" Fritz asked out of curiosity.

    "At least a thousand triads," Lauren said. "Maybe up to two thousand."

    The group were stunned by the statement, their eyes going wide as they stared at Lauren. Even Fritz was startled by the enormous estimation.

    "That much?" Cal croaked.

    "That much," Lauren stated, grinning as wide as Bert was. "With it being woven into sheets and shawls, rather than being simple threads, its value has soared like, well, a siren."

    "We''re rich?" Rosie asked dumbfounded.

    "I wouldn''t say that, but it could probably afford an estate in the upper ring," Lauren said.

    "That''s rich!" Rosie argued.

    "Very rich!" Cal added.

    "Moderately well-to-do," Fritz corrected. "The truly wealthy reside in the Palace Ring."

    "Was your old house in the palace ring?" Cal asked.

    "Yes," Fritz said. "On the very outer area though, right by the wall with the other lesser nobility."

    "Oh, right by the wall," Bert said unsympathetically. "With all the other ''poor'' nobles."

    "As it so happens, yes," Fritz admitted, shuffling his shoulders.

    Bert scoffed while Cal and Rosie simply shook their heads in some small derision as if he didn''t know how good he had it. He did know, and that''s why he would get what he could of it back, woe betide any that would deny him and his family.

    "How nice that must have been," Lauren sighed.

    "Alright, that''s enough bemoaning how right and proper my early upbringing was," Fritz said anger edging his voice. "Remember, I did lose it all. And tragically."

    "True as the rain," Bert said earnestly, which quieted the team.

    "Time to align some Attributes, I think," Fritz said into the sudden lull. "Keep an eye out?"

    "As you command," Bert said, grinning again.

    Fritz slipped into his Sanctum, evading the pitying and condescending stares of his team.

    It was raining, but he found himself in the grey, almost silvery pavilion. He was seated in a gracefully styled wooden chair of the same material, right next to the moonsilver brazier and the blue-green fire burning within. He spared the flame only a glance, his eyes instead drawn to the brazier itself.

    Gone were the fire-breathing, brass lizards of before, now there were moths sculpted in pristine silver. On their wings were glyphs that were difficult to read though Fritz could faintly make out the concepts of containment, purification, and disconcertingly, chaos. It was concerning, to say the least, but not really why he was here. Honestly, he was just glad the moonsilver held the flickering fire in place and seemed not to be under any strain. He noticed it wasn''t even hot to the touch when he ran a finger over one of the embossed moths.

    Even the eldritch flame, though smaller in size, looked brighter, more pure, likely a result of its imprisonment in the moonsilver. He wondered how this would affect his offerings at the precipice, or perhaps even the Ability evolutions he would have to choose next level. Thinking of choices he ruminated on his own. He had six Attributes to align, really he should have used them last floor, but he had been distracted, that and he didn''t exactly know what to increase.

    He considered his Attributes, and when he concentrated he was able to see the glyphs without viewing his entire Spire Sheet.

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 9

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 18

    Focus: 12

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 18

    Control: 9

    Dusksong: 12

    Grace: 6

    ---------

    Fritz knew he wanted to improve his Dusksong, what with his increased reliance on its mana. Although he worried about the effect it would have on his moods and impulses. He''d already snapped once at Cal and didn''t want to repeat that again. Focus should help stifle the fae influence, though he didn''t trust it to stop it fully. Really, he concluded, he needed time to adjust to the odd tune humming in his chest.

    Awareness and Perception were fine where they were, and perhaps were a little too high, so he had little desire to increase them at this time. Strength and Endurance hadn''t been dragging him down as of late. His Agility, while important, was far less appealing than the Advanced Attribute of Grace, which would allow him to both dodge and strike more precisely, more perfectly. To be able to refine his form into an inevitable, untouchable state would be a great boon and something he greatly desired. Though that could wait for the future, when he could truly take advantage of the Attribute and had time to practise his techniques and sword style.

    Memory might help his lapses in recollection, could assist in organising his mind, and perhaps let him grasp more of his father''s fencing. Though he found that unlikely right now, another Attribute for later. Control had helped him a lot, mostly on the last floor when he had to combat the siren song, and at other times with his shaping of his Abilities. It would only get stronger and it had already saved his life.

    As much as he wanted to increase his Dusksong, he knew he couldn''t risk its impulse warping effects, yet. He dismissed Grace, even if it would increase his evasive prowess it wasn''t essential at the moment. Eventually, he decided to pick the least interesting, but far more functional Attributes to align, increasing his Focus and Control. Raising them to fifteen and twelve respectively. Though they seemed boring compared to the others, he valued the sanctity of his mind and the clarity of thought both Attributes conveyed.

    Fritz stared around his Sanctum as he made his choice. His willow''s branches grew taller, and the beating of the rain calmed minutely as his mind was more able to handle the myriad sensations around him. With a sigh Fritz returned to the real world, finding himself the first to do so, the rest of his team, save Bert, deep within their centres.

    Bert noticed he''d surfaced and asked, "Grab more of that faerie magic?"

    "No. I''ve decided to be cautious, and add to my Focus and Control," Fritz said.

    "What!?" Bert cried. "Have you been possessed? Replaced with a changeling?"

    "Of course not," Fritz scoffed. "It is just that situations have arisen that have forced me to reassess my demon-may-dare attitude."

    "Are you trying to say you''re learning from your mistakes?" Bert asked incredulously.

    "What mistakes? Everything I have ever done has been well considered and completely correct, even in retrospect," Fritz espoused, smirking with all the self-satisfaction he could muster.

    "There''s the Fritz I know," Bert said, breathing out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

    "How about you, what are you planning on aligning? And are you still holding on to your last Passive choice?" Fritz asked, dropping his prideful act.

    "Yeah, still waiting on the next floor for the Ability. But I''ll split my Attributes between Strength, Vitality and Agility."

    "A balance of offence and defence?"

    "Exactly right."

    "What are your Attributes up to anyway?" Fritz asked.

    "I don''t remember them all, but my Strength and Endurance are twenty-four, my Agility is eighteen, and my Vitality is thirty."

    Shocked by the huge Attribute levels, Fritz stared at his friend in mute envy.

    "Oh, and six Bloodwell," Bert added with a smug grin.

    "How are your Attributes so high?" Fritz blurted out before the obvious answer came to him. "Wait, let me guess. You have nothing in Focus, Memory and Perception, like the idiot Brute you are."

    "Correct, well mostly correct, I have three whole points in Perception," Bert claimed with that same smug expression.

    "No wonder you''re near impossible to kill. All that Vitality."

    "Don''t forget my Traits and Passives," Bert reminded him.

    "How could I? And yet you continue with your stupid beast plan even with such a great set of Powers," Fritz groused.

    "I don''t know what you''re talking about," Bert said, yet his grin grew even wider.

    Fritz shook his head, but he couldn''t suppress his smile. While his friend''s obstinate denial could be frustrating, in moments like this it was just endearing.

    "What''s this about a beast?" Lauren asked.

    "Never mind," Fritz and Bert said in unison.

    "Increased your Focus as well?" Fritz asked Lauren.

    "Correct, the passionate nature of Essence of Fire has led me to some... irresponsible words and deeds," she admitted slightly sheepishly.

    "I don''t know about that. I thought it was a great lark when you said you''d light that noble on fire," Bert said.

    "Maybe in the moment. It''ll have consequences," Lauren said dejectedly.

    "And that''s why we''re Climbers. If we make trouble we can just Climb higher to outrun it," Fritz proclaimed. "Power is freedom after all."

    "I''m not sure that''s the truth of the matter," Lauren hedged, though it looked like she agreed far more than she liked.

    "We''ll deal with it on the outside," Fritz said. "I''ll help out if there''s any repercussions. Some of the blame for that particular encounter lies on me, even if those pampered nobles were spoiling for a fight."

    Lauren smiled weakly, then paled when considering what might happen once they were outside the Spire and the likely reactions of her family. Obviously, she''d been focused on the immediate Climb and not for the future after.

    Fritz felt for her but he also had his own problems on the outside, the insulted nobles probably being the least of them. The lurking dread of the Nightshark reared its ugly head and he quickly pushed away that worry. Burying his fear was easier than usual, perhaps an added benefit of Focus or perhaps Control, and one he was glad to have. Being preoccupied with the politics and threats on the outside was a detriment to survival in the Spires.

    When Fritz was pulled out from his thoughts, it was by Rosie''s boasting about how she''d aligned more to Strength, Endurance and Durability.

    "My scales as as tough as iron," she stated.

    "And your skin''s as tough as leather," Bert said giving her a playful punch in the arm before shaking his hand out as if he hurt his fist.

    She smirked, it was a brutal expression.

    "How about you Cal? Increasing your Strength like Bert?" Fritz asked.

    "No, I''m going with more Endurance and Momentum for now. Without a mana source, I use my Stamina a lot. Bringing out and putting away stuff from my Personal pack really take its out of you. And now that I store some rocks in it so I can throw them, it''s getting tiring," Cal explained.

    "Even with Tireless?" Fritz asked.

    "Yeah."

    "Still, that''s quite the synergy," Fritz complimented.

    Cal nodded, smiling self-assuredly, almost smugly.

    Bert really was a bad influence.

    "And George, what wonderful power did you decide to pursue?" Fritz inquired.

    "I''ve been splitting my alignments between Might, Essence of Metal, and Speed," George said.

    "You have a magic Attribute?"

    "Two, my Trait, Forgeheart, activated them," George explained. "Though I don''t have a use for Essence of Fire yet."

    "I guess Lauren wasn''t the only one that gained a lot from the Hidden Door," Fritz stated.

    "It was well worth all the heat and pain," George agreed. "Let''s hope I can still get something like Heat Blade, or Flame Strike."

    "You might, Influences are only cleared once you leave the Spire," Lauren casually explained while tying her hair back with a golden ribbon.

    Fritz had never thought to ask about that, taking it for granted. But he nodded along as if he knew that fact for sure anyway.

    "Well, take a rest, team, I''ve got some Doors to look at," Fritz stated, standing and striding over to the three Doors set between the artworks.

    The first door was carved of opulent white marble adorned with gold. For a second, Fritz wanted to chisel off the precious substance, but soon remembered that you couldn''t take anything from a Well room. He ran a hand over the smooth, cold stone, sighing at the unfairness of it all. There was no scent or breeze seeping through the grand arch, or none that he could feel at least. When searching with his Door Sense Fritz received a vision of an empty, pristine palace. He was swept down a seamless marble hall and into a deserted throne room. Well, deserted save the giant figure sitting the fifteen-foot-tall, gilded, white throne.

    The huge man-alike was plated with ornate armour of that same white marble as the rest of the palace and held a great black sceptre with a head of gold shaped with three cruel, grinning faces.

    Immediately his greed was stoked by the gold-adorned weapon and throne. However, he quickly put a damper on his avaricious impulses.

    Fritz pulled away from the Door, seemingly this Floor''s trial was a powerful singular monster, similar to the green glass bull he, Bert and Sid had fought. And he didn''t know if he had enough confidence in the team for them to defeat such a monster, not without casualties at least.

    The next Door was made of grey stone brick, and the smell of damp, dust and mould wafted from within. When Fritz applied his Door Sense he found himself in a library, its walls beset by some oppressive weight. He didn''t get the impression of any monsters, though there were faint traces of traps and other mysteries. That, and he felt that this particular Floor was large, or rather more allowing of more Climbers than the regular nine. There was also one other sensation, one Fritz hadn''t been exposed to before, but one he thought might be telling him there were other Climbers already within. As he studied the feeling he only became more sure of the fact, though couldn''t tell who or how many there were.

    Perhaps it was the Nobles? Having finally left the sixth Well and easily climbed to the eighth Floor with the aid of their guide? If so, Fritz could use that chance to head that problem off before it left the Spire. However, it was far more likely it was any of the other Climbing teams that had entered before them and it wasn''t worth getting entangled in either competition or outright robbery.

    Fritz turned to the last Door, the pale coral cave dripped with icy cold seawater and no wind blew from its opening. He immediately realised this was a sure sign this door led to an underwater floor. He searched its depths with his Door Sense and was appalled by what he detected.

    Long fleshless eels of animated bone and ghostly fish swam through the dead reef, seeking fresh prey, hungering for the blood and the warmth of the living. Undead and underwater, what a terrible combination. He immediately discounted this Door as a choice, there was no way he was going to risk encountering undersea ghost sharks or what ever other lifeless things lay within.

    The other two Doors held great risks, and he had no true preference for the middle or the left Floors. He would have to put this choice to a vote. The question remained, which should he choose?

 Arc 2 - Chapter 44

    Fritz took his time returning to his team, strolling a circuitous route around the Well room, admiring the various intriguing sculptures and mosaics in their evenly spaced alcoves. Though he liked some of the aesthetic of the arrayed art, they gave him an unsettling sense of the uncanny, and the more he looked the more small errors he saw. Alien Landscapes that flowed into each other like mixed syrups, alike and also completely unalike his recollections of the Twilight realm.

    The people depicted in stone or scale had too many or too few fingers, strange distortions in their faces and very little delineation between clothes and skin, like the artist couldn''t tell the difference or simply didn''t care. Deep in his chest he got the feeling that it all lacked intention... or reason to be.

    Or did it?

    Sadness spread through him, a sudden, ancient, sense of loss. It wasn''t his own, it was too vast for that. He pushed it away and felt the mountainous melancholy slither past him, he imagined it was like brushing against a leviathan''s slimy hide as it swam past, parting the sea with its enormity. And then it was gone, the pressure receding, though it left him with a sour taste in his mouth and mind.

    "Fritz, what''s wrong?" Bert called out. "You look like you''ve eaten a lime. Are the Doors that bad?"

    "Hmm, what?" Fritz said shaking his head free of the fog. "No, well, I mean, yes. The Doors are not great by any means. I was distracted, and somewhat disgusted by the art all around us. It''s... wrong."

    "Yeah, it is weird, this one''s shawl blends into its hair," Rosie said pointing to a statue. "And it has eyes all down its arm."

    "Revolting," Lauren said, scowling.

    "What''s this about the Doors?" Cal asked. "If even Fritz thinks they''re bad they have got to be nasty."

    "Unfortunately, that is too true," Fritz sighed, contemplating how to tell them what he saw without revealing too much of his Door Sense. "My Senses and Awareness have revealed some troubling things. Danger Sense especially warned me of the leftmost and rightmost doors. The rightmost''s deadliness is apparent, likely both an underwater and an undead floor. If the dead coral of the cave is anything to go by."

    The team looked just as horrified as Fritz had felt when he''d seen those bone-eels.

    "Absolutely not," George said, with surprising vehemence.

    "Scared of ghosts?" Rosie teased.

    "I am, and you should be too, can''t slice a ghost with a sword," he replied seriously.

    "You can''t? Not even with Sever?" Cal asked.

    "I don''t know, but I don''t want to test it. Not with lives on the line. Or underwater for that matter," George explained.

    "I read that light-aligned or life-aligned Abilities are effective against ghosts," Lauren supplied. "My Soothe Burn could harm them, theoretically. Though it is touch range, and like George, I''m not sure I want to risk getting close to a ghost."

    "Just cause it''s an undead Floor doesn''t always mean ghosts," Bert said. "Might be skeletons or zombies."

    "I am not willing to take that risk," Fritz said. "Even with the small chance there are ghosts, the risk of finding them is there. And the tales of their curses or ageing, withering touch are far too terrible to ignore."

    "Fair," Bert said. "Then what''s wrong with the next Doors?"

    "I''m not too sure about the leftmost Door, it looks grand, like the entrance to a palace," Fritz said motioning to the white marble with gold reliefs. "Though my Danger Sense warned me that it would be perilous. Very perilous."

    "Sounds right. It looks like it has Treasure so it must be guarded," George said, nodding thoughtfully.

    "I wouldn''t mind a straight up fight," Bert professed. "Something to get the blood pounding."

    "More like blood letting, I can''t help but feel someone in the team will die if we go through that door," Fritz admitted.

    Bert''s face fell at that, apparently he''d taken a liking to the current crew. As he had too, Fritz reflected. Even Cal.

    "The middle Door leads to some sort of maze, it has traps within. It doesn''t feel nearly as dangerous as the other two. Though there was also something else that I couldn''t quite quantify," Fritz said, running a hand through his hair and flashing Bert a subtle hand sign.

    "Might be other Climbers," Bert said upon catching the signal.

    Fritz put on a frown as if thinking on it, then said, "Maybe. Which might be troublesome."

    "And you think that adds to the danger," Lauren said sceptically.

    "Perhaps," Fritz allowed.

    He wasn''t at all sure which of the two Doors he wanted to take, while the promise of gold in the marble door was enticing they were already loaded up with enough silk to make them moderately well off. Though that same wealth could also make them a target of the other Climbers. He''d hear out his own team''s opinions and side with what they thought best, for now.

    "Are we actually likely to run into the other people?" Rosie asked.

    "Depends entirely on the floor and if we go looking for them," Fritz said. "Though I don''t think we should seek them out. If they catch wind of our stash of sirensilk we might have to fight."

    "It wouldn''t come to that, surely," Lauren protested. "Not everyone is a Krakosi raider or street thug. Especially in a Spire."

    The mention of the raider darkened everyone''s expressions, even Lauren who had spoken the words looked down dispiritedly.

    "Maybe not, still I much mislike the look of the palace, and the deadly danger within," Fritz said. "I''d take a fight with other Climbers any day over what may wait in there."

    "And they might be the ones carrying some Treasures and gold," Bert said.

    "We''re not going to rob them," Lauren stated sternly. George nodded at that.

    "I never said we would.... but if they tried to steal from us.... it would be self-defence," Bert stated non-convincingly.

    "If we run into them," Fritz added. "And you never know, they could have left by the time we go in. I suggest we sleep a night before taking the next Door anyway."

    They fell into quiet contemplation.

    "We''ll vote tomorrow," Fritz stated. "Let''s have something to eat. Cal, did you purchase some extra foodstuffs?"

    "I did. Also traded with the foreigners and the locals to up the variety in our monster meats and aligned vegetables," Cal said eagerly.

    "Wonderful," Fritz and Bert said together.

    "I''ve been sorely missing vegetables, a good find," Lauren said smiling, which lit up Cal''s own smile even further.

    "I have some stone-aligned potatoes and this," he said, producing an orange clamshelled melon, almost the size of his torso, from his personal pack. "It''s a saltwater pumpkin, or so they said. Meant to be a little sweet and somewhat salty."

    "Get to cooking then, I''m so hungry I could eat a horse, scales, hooves and all," Bert said.

    Cal nodded and got to work, slicing the vegetables on a recently procured cutting board of pale wood. Soon they were eating another delicious savoury stew of potatoes, pumpkin and some strips of smoked shark. The last of the crab meat had either been eaten or traded away before it went bad. They ate and talked, the danger of the previous floors near forgotten.

    Eventually, the yawning began, precipitated by Lauren, and they set themselves to rest. Though not before making makeshift pillows out of their newfound feathers and the larger of the unused sacks. None in the group had much mastery over sewing. Even Lauren, who Fritz was sure would have been forced in such domestic tasks, was unskilled with thread and needle, the use of which wasn''t befitting a woman of her station. Or so she had said.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "I''m common, but not so common as to mend my own clothes," she had stated, frustratedly setting down a steel needle that was taken from Fritz''s leather armour repair kit.

    "Never had much to sew. We had rags of course, though the twine was hard to come by and more suited to being fishing line than thread," Fritz said as he finished sealing a sack''s mouth shut. "Though I must say, I feel these stitches are rather neat," he added showing off his sack pillow.

    "You do seem to have a talent for it," George said, looking over his own creation which was sturdy if a little inelegant.

    "To make up for his other lacking qualities," Bert groused, annoyed at how much better made Fritz''s pillow was.

    "Or he''s just cheating with Grace," Lauren observed.

    "That''s it, he''s a cheater," Bert agreed easily, to the nods of the rest of the team.

    "How dare you. My good name has been besmirched. Will no one come in defence of my honour?" Fritz arrogantly entreated.

    "They would. If it existed," Bert said with a grin.

    Again the team seemed to agree, smiling along at the joke.

    Fritz acted affronted but soon let the performance go, and lent his aid to the others still struggling with their needles and thread. To his small surprise, the act seemed to garner him some new respect, or what he took for respect, or perhaps loyalty. He could see it in their eyes and hovering around them like small rays of strange light. His Awareness lending him odd insight into their hidden thoughts.

    With siren feathered pillows and siren silk sheets over their bedrolls, they tucked themselves in to sleep, with Bert on first watch as usual. In this unforeseen, and what Fritz felt was well-earned, opulence, they slept.

    ---

    The next morning, rested and refreshed, Fritz and his team stood before the doors. Unfortunately, that strange feeling of other Climbers on the middle Floor hadn''t changed.

    "Right, they''re giving me the same impressions as before," Fritz announced, and a few faces fell. "Vote. Left Door?"

    Lauren''s and George''s hands went up steadily, Fritz could read their reluctance to have to deal with other Climbers, specifically their fears of maybe having to fight and kill them. He shared those same reservations, though he was willing to do what was necessary. While the leftmost Door''s deadliness wasn''t certain, his gut told him in no unsure terms that someone would fall, fatally. He trusted his gut, and he was willing to trade the lives of others to keep his team whole. If it came to that.

    "Middle Door?" He called out. This was the safer route, and if they had to fight other Climbers then so be it, he wouldn''t hesitate, and so he had cast his vote for the middle door. Fritz was joined by the rest of the team who hadn''t voted yet, obviously thinking along those same lines. It didn''t surprise him much, those from the desperate district had seen enough death to tolerate it. Especially when it came to keeping safe and holding onto what you have.

    "Two to four," Fritz stated, keeping his face blank. He was glad the vote had gone this way as he had also felt some faint but deep pull, towards that Door. Though that didn''t bear thinking about, being just an odd intuition, the source of which he couldn''t quite comprehend.

    Lauren and George nodded, they didn''t seem angry or upset, and a weary resignation set on their shoulders. They didn''t want to fight other humans, but would do so if needed. Or so Fritz suspected.

    "Middle Door it is. Follow," Fritz ordered as he led them through the stone brick Door.

    Immediately the smell of dust, leather and paper surrounded him, tinged as it was with the slight scent of mould and a worrying dampness. He reached the end of the stairs where it opened into a corridor of grey stone brick. Peeking his head around the corner, then looking this way and that, Fritz stealthily stepped into the open, keeping an eye out for any danger, be they man or monster.

    There was nothing. Nothing harmful at least. Down the passage and to his left, a hundred feet or more away, was a curving staircase leading down. To his right, there was another leading up. Light appeared in his vision, not from either set of stairs, but from behind. He turned to see his team enter the passage, Cal held their glowstone lantern illuminating Fritz''s frowning face.

    "Stop scowling," Bert said quietly. "It''s pitch black up here, even I can only see about nine feet in front of me."

    Fritz smoothed his expression and smiled.

    "Oh, I hadn''t noticed. Look''s clear as day to me," he said smugly.

    "Spare a little thought for your followers," Bert chided affably. "It''s what a good Captain would do."

    "I''ll do as you suggest, later. For now, I have some stairs to search," Fritz said. "Stay here, I''ll be back as soon as may be."

    Bert nodded, and Fritz left his team behind. Pulsing his Awareness, he found nothing. It was like his Door Sense was being suffocated by a titanic cold blanket, or shrouded as if he were in a dense mist. The Stairway could be anywhere, though somehow he knew it wasn''t close. It was likely that this particular Floor was suppressing the range or potency of his Door Sense, similarly to the one in the Sunken Spire with its shrouded trap. He hoped that this Floor had only muddled one of his detection Abilities, if they were all taken away he would be of very little use.

    His mind, preoccupied with traps and doors as it was, nearly missed what was right in front, or rather, right below him. He directed his attention to the brick floor and he noticed that the sparse cover of dust had been disturbed. That, and he could clearly see the distinct impressions of boot prints. He didn''t know if the tracks were recent, though there was a visible trail leading both left and right.

    Maybe there are man-alikes with boots? He tried to argue to himself as his stomach dropped and his shoulders tensed. Suddenly a face flashed before his eyes. That of the raider, that raving, drooling, gruesome grin inches from his own. Involuntarily he trembled, recalling the feeling of knowing he was moments away from death. That powerlessness.

    No. It''s dead, he told himself.

    Ravaged, ruined, painted red. Slaughtered, slain, forever dead.

    Seizing the unexpected outburst of emotion, he buried it deep down, lulling it with Dusksong so it would sleep. Sleep with the other unwanted, unneeded hurts. A cold calm settled over him and he brought himself back to the present, exhaling a long, steadying breath.

    Shaking off his remaining fears, Fritz decided to check down the left side of the corridor first. He found that its curved stairs led down and to the left. The smell of mould intensified and from below a light breeze wafted. Cool and humid, like morning. He stealthily made his way down and noticed that some of the cracks between the bricks were dripping seawater. The leaking was only slight, though it reminded him, uncomfortably, of the Seawall. Still, he pressed on, further down and into the dark.

    At the end of the passage there was a tall set of double doors made of dark, hard wood. They were shut. A chest thick rectangular bar of wood held the door closed. The bar was heavy, but Fritz was strong, or stronger than he should be, and with some intense effort he was able to lift it out from where the bronze braces secured it to the stone door frame and the wood of the door itself. Lifted free from its supports, the length of hard wood thunked on the stone, then he dragged it from the door''s path.

    Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Fritz pulled on the bronze handles and the double doors easily glided open. The hinges didn''t even creak as the large space beyond was revealed.

    The room, or hall really, was large, had an open balcony, providing a view to a second floor. Both floors were filled with bookcases, they surrounded him, the gaps between them creating a maze of dark alleys and passages. And in those bookcases were, of course, books, hundreds if not thousands of them. A collection of writings in all different shapes and makes, some bound in leather, some carved of stone, others merely scrolls tied together with rotting ribbons. All covered in dust and some being eaten by creeping mould.

    Fritz clenched a fist, tore his gaze away from the mistreatment of the books and the chaotic jumble of shelves, and looked instead to the second floor of the room. He needed to get up there to get a better view of the area. Balustrades lined the overlooking balcony, making it an easy climb if he could reach it, though it was far too high for him to simply leap to.

    Seeing no stairs close, Fritz scaled the closest set of shelves, the frame remained sturdy but the planks of the shelves themselves creaked under his touch and snapped when he put his full weight on them, spilling their old dusty contents to the stony bricks below. It was an ordeal, but eventually he was able to scale a frame without it tipping and crashing into its neighbours. A relief, he didn''t want to start some sort of chain reaction that would collapse the shelves and block any routes to the other side of the room.

    From there he leapt, carefully, to the balcony and pulled himself up and over the balustrades. He wiped his hand afterwards, the off-white paint had came off in powdery chips at his touch. Fritz then turned his eyes to the floor below.

    Bookcases. Row upon row of them, sprawling, misaligned and seemingly placed at random. A sprawling mess of dusty, mouldy hallways. The stone floor was littered with, Paper and parchment, vellum and slates. Covered with writings in decrepit states. It was a dizzying, desolate sight. To see so much knowledge, all stacked so carelessly, haphazardly, as if rubbish, burned him somewhere deep in his chest.

    If Sid saw this she''d be furious.

    From where he stood, he could see a set of double doors opposite the ones he had entered from. He could see they were also barred. Fritz squinted, noticing something wrong and hoping what he suspected wasn''t true. Alas, the wood was curving, rotting and bending outward. And even from where he was standing, at least a hundred feet away, he could hear the wood creaking and see water pour from between the door''s seams.

    The room shuddered and the door groaned ominously as if under some great pressure. It likely was, all the signs led Fritz to believe that this library, for that is surely what it was, was under the ocean and sinking further and further into the dark waters. When that door broke, and it surely would, the entire room and everything within would be flooded and lost to the cold depths. Fritz decided that rather than let his curiosity potentially drown him, he would instead retreat, no, report to his team. He jumped down from his perch and with long, quick strides he made his way up the stairs out.

    He attempted, for a moment, re-barring the doors behind him. It was a lost cause, while he had enough strength to move the thick plank up and out of the braces, he couldn''t muster enough to lift it off the ground and cleanly set it back into place. Instead, he settled for simply shutting the doors and dragging the bar in front them, for all the good that would do. Then he continued back to his crew.

    Rather than spooking his team by simply appearing in their midst, Fritz decided to throw his carved pebble into the ring of light shed by the lantern. The clack of stone on stone still somehow startled Cal, causing the light to shake for a moment as he jumped.

    "Just me," Fritz announced softly.

    "Why not just say that?" Cal said both annoyed and embarrassed. "Instead of scaring us with rocks."

    "You''ll have to get used to it. Until I get a message stone, or something similar, these pebbles are the best way to send messages to you without revealing my presence," Fritz explained with an exaggerated sigh. "If only we were wealthy and could afford such things."

    "We are and we can. Once we get out," Bert reminded him. "Speaking of, what did you find?"

    "Right, there''s some bad news and some worse news."

    "I''m not sure that''s how the saying goes, but give us the worse news," Bert said.

    "We''re in an underwater building of some sort, likely a library or archive on account of all the books," Fritz said.

    "Books! How horrible, how terrible, it''s downright dreadful! Truly the worst news I''ve ever heard," Bert bemoaned.

    "That''s not the worse news, idiot," Fritz said, rolling his eyes which was mirrored by Lauren. "The whole place is sinking and the lower floor is likely to flood soon."

    "Oh, that is worse," Bert agreed seriously, while the others paled. "And the bad."

    "The bad news is that we have nowhere to go but up. And that''s probably where the other Climbers, if they exist, will be forced to go as well. Making contact with them all but an inevitability."

    "Damn," George said.

    "Well, all we can do is hope they''re friendly, and not a bunch of scumbags," Fritz said.

    Though he had little hope for that, the odd pull he had felt before had become more clear as he had neared the right staircase and now he had his suspicions it was some eerie effect of his Dusksong and Awareness working in weird concert. Working towards what he could only guess was revenge.

    Maybe it was the nobles who had finally ceased their dallying and Climbed past them. If so they''d have to prepare to fight. And kill.

    "Well, I''m glad to see that you''re still so hopeful," Cal said drily. Fritz realised his face must have looked pretty grim for him to comment such, and so he quickly plastered a smile over his dark expression.

    "I''ll scout ahead, it''s no use standing around and guessing," Fritz said, "If you hear a flood from the left, follow me up the right set of stairs as quick as you can."

    They nodded and Fritz left them. Within moments he was sneaking up far dryer steps and found himself standing in front of another set of double doors, these were also shut tight. The handle was still loose so Fritz surmised that it must be barred as all the others had been. Though this one was barred from the other side.

    Was this how this Floor was meant to be? Or was this interference of the other Climbers, locking the way behind them in some attempt to stay the flood? Fritz suspected it was the latter.

    For a moment he considered creating some Stone Pits so as to reach through the frame and knock the bar free. He soon abandoned that thought, such an act would likely weaken the walls. And underwater as they were, that had to be a terrible idea. His next instinct was to try and force it open, or rather, have Bert break it. From a glance, he knew his Strength wouldn''t be enough to shift it, especially if it could hold back the ocean for a time as the other had. He could hack at it with his two favoured weapons, though they weren''t made for such a task and that would take far too long.

    He tested one last trick, to slip a thin blade through its gaps, but the door''s seams were too small, too perfect to slide his dagger between. The tough wood seemed to mock him, standing smugly in his way. At an impasse and not having a way to breach the doors himself, Fritz made to return to his huddled team.

    Defeated though defiant, Fritz told the looming doors, "Wait ''til I get Bert, then we''ll see who''s the victor."

    The clack of the pebble''s fall didn''t surprise anyone this time.

    "Back so soon?" Bert asked.

    "Indeed," Fritz replied, stepping into the light. "I have been thwarted by a door, barred beyond my means to move it, and require a Brute''s arm to break open the way."

    "A barred door is it? George''s sword might be better for that," Bert said slapping the armoured man on the back.

    "Or my flail," Cal said eagerly.

    "Or my pick," Rosie added.

    "Truly, our team is filled with formidable fighters," Fritz said.

    Something trilled in the back of his head, and distantly he thought he heard a crack, then a low groan. Fear flooded him, which was fitting since he could hear the door below buckle and break, and the dull rushing of water.

    "Run!"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 45

    The team were quick to heed Fritz''s warning, their packs and bags already on their backs as they ran right, opposite the faraway roar of flooding water. Cal sprinted ahead of the team, leveraging his Speed to stay ahead. He held the lantern aloft, lighting the way up the curving stairs and into the blackness beyond.

    Fritz was glad they had reacted as rapidly as they did, he didn''t know if they had moments, minutes, or hours before being swept up and drowned. And as the saying went: ''There is no wisdom in waiting to see the wave''. At that point your fate was likely sealed and the whole team knew it.

    Fritz brought up the rear, catching George as he tripped in his haste and almost toppled back down the stairs. He pushed him forward with both hands on the man''s scaled cloaked back until he found his feet again. George tried to turn and to apologise but Fritz kept pressing him forward.

    "Thanks can come later. Get moving, we need to break the other door," Fritz ordered.

    The team fled up the stairs and the sound of rushing water finally reached the ears of the less perceptive, spurring them to be swifter. Despite it being only a minute of running it felt like far more. Each second could be their last and they stretched out from hard-taught fear. Finally, they found the barred double doors. Immovable and imposing, cutting off the path ahead and with it their lives.

    Bert immediately hit the hard wood, blurring forward and slamming into it with both his Bull Rush and Concussive blow overlaid over his shoulder. He bounced off with a thud and a loud crack. At first, Fritz thought it was the bar behind the door that had snapped, but was soon disappointed and distressed when Bert grunted in pain and held his broken breastbone. There was another, smaller crack and the sharp bump of protruding bone beneath the skin flattened in an instant.

    Cal struck next, he swung his flail in a devastating arc, denting the wood and causing the door to shudder slightly. However, that was the extent of the damage done. Lauren scorched the door with clinging flames, the fire caught and orange tongues licked at the wood, yet it quickly burned out, too quickly as if the door was treated against fire. It was likely they were protected against such things, few things were as dangerous to libraries than a fire.

    She scowled then joined Rosie in hacking at the door with her sidearm, it seared and steamed where its edge met wood. Rosie herself was a flurry of slashes and slicing, leaving furrows where she struck. Splinters flew and they all redoubled their efforts whaling on the door with what they could. Yet it stood defiant, and would not yield to their assault. Until George stepped in with Sever. His copper longsword glowed with a sharp translucent white light and its deadly edge seemed to pass right through the wood as if it were mud.

    "Out of the way, give George more room," Fritz commanded.

    His team retreated from the door, and George grew out his sword to its full length and Sever-ed again, this time angled horizontally rather than vertically, then with one last Sever he chopped down again, carving another straight line and forming an almost neat square in the wood. Bert struck the cut section of the door with full force, crashing against and driving the slab of wood out with a great thud. It skated along the stone for three seconds before it ground to a stop.

    Bert ducked into the new opening, then Rosie was shuffled forward and through by Cal, who was then was followed by Lauren. Soon they were all on the other side, discovering another labyrinthine library. Haphazardly arrayed shelves with stack upon stack of books, tomes and scrolls flanked and flew by them on both sides as they ran.

    Fritz swiftly took the lead, guiding his team as best he could through the cluttered alleys. Piles of books were scattered by their passing and Fritz desperately pulsed his Door Sense, this time not searching for the Stairway but just the very next heavy set of doors that had to exist. They had to otherwise they were drowned. To his great relief, he could feel their location vaguely and he steered the team towards the muted impression.

    From ahead, through many rows of shelves, he could hear a muffled yell, a man''s rough call, shouting an alarm.

    "Wake up! We have company. Draw your steel!"

    "We should arm ourselves too," Fritz said softly over his shoulder. "Just in case."

    "I''m always armed," Bert said, raising his fists.

    "We don''t have to fight them, let''s try talking first," Lauren whisper-yelled as they slowed their pace, to better wind through the passages and be on the lookout for any attackers.

    "We will," Fritz agreed, listening for the flood closing in on them. The sound of rushing water had faded considerably, perhaps he had been too prone to expecting the worst and they actually did have more time than he had suspected. Growing up in the gutters of Rain City had seemingly left some hard-to-break fears about floods. When he thought about it, didn''t they have water-breathing potions? And they would likely survive the crushing force of the wave what with their defensive Treasures or Attributes.

    He didn''t think he''d been panicking for nothing, however they were far more equipped to deal with being submerged than he initially feared. Taking a moment to breathe in slowly, Fritz slowed his and his team''s pace further, keeping them at a brisk walk rather than a jog.

    "Get your water-breathing gear ready," Fritz said, now that he had calmed somewhat.

    "I forgot we had that," Bert said slapping his forehead and reaching into his remedy kit.

    "You and me both," Fritz said. "Must be old scars."

    "Must be," Bert agreed.

    "I hear ''flood!'' I run, simple as that," Cal added and Rosie nodded along.

    Lauren and George kept quiet, weapons in hand and keeping their eyes and ears out for trouble.

    Fritz decided to take the time to climb one of the many shelves to get a better view of where they were in this maze. He spread his Trap Sense, attempting to pulse it like his Door Sense, and found it responded similarly, though it was not entirely alike the other Power. It was far more responsive, more malleable, more akin to water than the misty feeling of Door Sense. He should have been doing this all along, he suspected, and noted he should test his Danger Sense with this burgeoning expertise later.

    Rapidly Trap Sense responded, there were traps all around, some of the books and scrolls stood out to him especially. But that wasn''t what he was looking for, he wanted to leverage the second feature, the detection of natural hazards such as the weak shelves and frames around him. Soon he found a stable enough bookshelf to scale and he motioned for his team to wait while he crept onto its top. It creaked and dust fell from its old wood, but it didn''t break beneath him.

    Fritz searched the many paths and to his dismay saw the glow of three separate lights shedding their illumination within the dark passages between the shelves. Two of blue and one of amber. The lights were gathered together and were slowly making their way to another set of double doors on the other side of the room. They would likely arrive there before Fritz and his team, then, if they were the ones barring the doors, they would seal them in.

    He committed a winding path to memory, or as much as he could before he felt something off. Fritz heard a whistling softly splitting the air. Suddenly he shifted into his shadowy form. A soaring dagger, its edge subtly shining with red hues, slid harmlessly through his smoke-like neck. Cold washed over his body while his Dusksong was drained. Behind him, the blade bounced off a bookcase and clattered to the stone. Fritz dropped, riding the last seconds of his phasing to alight upon the ground without a sound.

    "Argh!" He cried as he solidified, stomping his foot as if he were a body falling to the floor.

    The team looked at him quizzically and he held a finger to his lips.

    Distantly, maybe through one or two sets of shelves, Fritz heard low voices that he could barely make out.

    "I got him, can''t believe the idiot would stand out in the open like that," a man said in a darkly mocking tone. "And you said Shadow Sight was useless."

    "I said it will be useless. Once you climb the other Spire again and get its bronze award," a rough man replied.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Why are you standing around whispering like fishwives, let''s get out of here," a woman hissed.

    Fritz''s stomach dropped and Dusksong''s hum spiked and spat. He thought he knew those voices, but he tried to convince himself that maybe he was wrong about his instinct. He shook his head, dispelling both his sureties and his doubts.

    "We''ll move as soon as we pack up the readable books," the rough man replied.

    "Let''s go now," she said again.

    "Calm your ti... er just calm down. We know the way out and we don''t have to rush. Some of these books could be Techniques. I won''t leave any behind," he growled back.

    "Don''t tell me to calm down," she spat. "There''s another team out there. They broke through the doors! What if they have nine? There''s only six of us."

    "Your man just killed one," the man grumbled. "They''ll be feelin'' the Spite soon enough. Even if they outnumber us we have already have the drop on them."

    "Fine," the woman conceded bitterly.

    Fritz stopped listening, pulling himself back to the wondering stares of his team, obviously, they hadn''t heard a thing.

    "I was seen and attacked. My Cloak didn''t hide me and Danger Sense, didn''t warn me," he whispered as loud as he dared. "One of them must have a stealth and a Sense Ability, like the raider."

    Of course, he would choose Powers like that, the cowardly traitor sneak thief.

    "Damn," Bert whispered as George picked up the fallen, familiar, dagger and slid it into his belt.

    "Fear not. My Sense was not completely suppressed so I don''t think this was as Powerful of an Ability. This Climber is likely not a Journeyman," Fritz reassured them.

    The team still looked worried about being dragged into another hunt, except Bert who frowned suspiciously at Fritz. Obviously reading something in his demeanour, or perhaps he had also recognised the dagger, and therefore its owner.

    "Let''s keep moving, we could still beat them to the doors out," Fritz whispered, leading them down an alley making sure to stay within the lantern light so they didn''t lose him.

    Wending and winding their way through the walls of shelves, they encountered no one. Fritz had been able to surreptitiously circle where he had heard the other Climbers and slip around their camp. The light that played upon the roof cast shadows in such a way that Fritz could vaguely divine when the other Climbers were and thus he was able to avoid them at every turn as they also slowly made their way through the maze.

    They were nearly all the way through, so close to the way out that Fritz could feel it reliably through his Door Sense. When the ever-ramping sounds of rushing water rapidly rose to a rumble like thunder. From behind, the shelves crashed against the floor and each other, and were shattered. A tide of wood and water surged. They could hear the flood sweeping forth, a cacophony of snapping timber and a tide of splintered shelves.

    "Run!" Fritz ordered, snatching the lantern from Cal so he wouldn''t disappear in the dark while he ran ahead. His shout was echoed by a coarse cry, somewhere to his left in another alley. There was more yelling, a woman shrieked, then all sound was suffocated by the roaring of the wave wrecking everything in its wake.

    Fritz was sprinting now and was joined by his trailing team. As they ran through the last couple of passages other unidentified Climbers appeared and ran besides them. Heedlessly they all raced to the double doors. Though Fritz was tempted to trip and tangle the other team up, he instead decided to focus on getting his whole crew out, forestalling any fighting for when they were safe from the flood.

    The doors were in sight when Lauren slipped on a scroll and staggered. Bert caught her before she could fall and hefted her over a shoulder, then he Bull Rush-ed forward. He was a white and blue blur as he sped past and he was soon tailed by Rosie who streaked behind him with her Interpose, dragging Cal along.

    Now that they could see the door, those who had mobility Abilities used them, speeding past Fritz and George and leaving their fellow teammates behind. One man, then a woman bounded by with great leaps, then another man, propelled by the stone beneath his feet, soared past. Fritz cursed and he redoubled his efforts, George looked back worriedly slowing his pace.

    "Go! Get through the doors!" Fritz ordered, seeing the doors ahead closing, being shut by the others.

    George winced, but nodded, then he harnessed his Speed and rushed ahead. When he reached the narrowing opening he was blocked by the bodies of a dark-haired man and a scarred woman ahead of him who filled the space. The two were having trouble slipping through the small crack left. George gripped the door and pulled it open enough for them to squeeze through then did so himself, holding the door open, shouting at someone behind him.

    Fritz and the sixth member of the other team ran beside each other, when Danger Sense flared. The man next to him swung a hammer, the brutal blow was aimed at his head and would shatter his jaw. Out of instinct, Fritz dived into a roll. It only cost him a heartbeat to slide back to his feet, but that was all the time the man required to barrel into George, through the gap and for the doors to slam shut.

    Fritz''s body met the wood with a bone-jarring thud. He bounced off, then stood swiftly, then beat on the door with his fists, yelling all the curses he knew. There were muffled shouts beyond the barrier but he paid them no heed, then there was a dreadful clunk. Fritz knew that was the sound of the bar being set down. He continued his tirade, drawing Quicksilver and hacking at the immovable wood. Small splinters flew from where he struck and his voice was soon drowned out by the oncoming flood, as he himself would soon be.

    With his free hand, Fritz rooted through his remedies, pulling out his waterbreathing potion, and drinking it down desperately. He ceased his yelling and breathed in deep. He glanced backward to see how much time he had left, just as he was assaulted by about-to-be agony from all sides. Bones would be broken, muscles pulverised to paste and skin torn to ribbons, all under that terrible cold and overwhelming pressure.

    Then the wave hit. Thunder then silence.

    Fritz was dead, and it didn''t feel too bad. Sure it was cold, bleak even, but there were nowhere near the pains his Danger Sense had predicted. He had many regrets, but the most pressing was that Bert wasn''t there. His spectre slid right through the door as if it were water, seeking his friend in his final moment. Then he was on the other side and he was surrounded by his team and the strangers.

    The shouting and menacing stopped dead. They stared at him in horror, as if seeing a ghost, which was appropriate.

    Serves them right.

    Then his heart beat, Fritz''s shadowy form fled, and he shifted back to normal.

    Oh, that''s right, Umbral Phase.

    "Fritz," Toby stated aghast. "Here to haunt us."

    "A ghost," Jane whispered in horror.

    Quickly Fritz got his wits about him and straightened his back, then smirked evilly.

    "I am back, from beyond the veil, hark and hold while thee quail," Fritz declared, lacing his words with his Dusksong''s terrible tones. His voice rasped and rang, like the grinding of stone coffins lid being slid open. "I seek my vengeance on cowards, traitors, all I hated. Only by thy pain can my thirst be sated."

    Jane and Toby stared, eyes wide with pure terror and bodies seemingly frozen. The opposing team around them quaked, one signalled the order to retreat, then they immediately ran up the curving stairs, abandoning the pair. Fritz let them flee, keeping his gaze locked on the two former members of his and Bert''s crew. They stood there too stunned to move.

    "Don''t worry. He''s not really a ghost," Bert said, ruining Fritz''s act. "Just very slippery."

    Their eyes turned to Bert.

    "Bert, you''re..." Toby began, pushing his shoulder-length dark hair out of his watering eyes.

    "Alive? Of course he is," Jane said dejectedly, gloom settling over her like a stormcloud. "Of course they are. They''re both bloody madmen who will never get their due. Surviving as they shouldn''t. Wrecking everything around them."

    Toby came to some conclusion and glared. His hands slowly went to his throwing daggers, he gripped their hilts though didn''t make to fling them.

    "How in the darkest depths of the Abyss did you two fools escape?" He asked scornfully. "Let me guess you murdered the girls and Sid then took their places."

    "Harsh words for our reunion, and even crueller accusations," Fritz objected. "And here I thought you''d be all sweet and sorry for your cowardly deeds."

    "Why bother apologising, you''re here to kill us," Toby said darkly.

    "We''re not here for you," Bert said, shaking his head.

    "Oh, it''s a coincidence then," Toby sneered. "How fortunate."

    "Liars," Jane added in a hiss her flame-scarred face contorted with distrust.

    "Traitors," Fritz replied just as scathingly, with Dusksong''s bitterness coating his voice coldly. Rage bubbled up, threatening to boil over. He gripped the hilt of his still-drawn blade so tightly it trembled. Yet he held himself back, cutting them and leaving a scar may be what he desired in the moment, but it wasn''t right, it wasn''t what they deserved.

    "Stop!" Bert shouted. "I don''t want to fight. And neither do you. Look around, there''s six of us and two of you."

    "If you don''t want to fight then we''ll be going then," Jane said quickly. "We have a crew to get back to."

    "Not so fast," Fritz said. "I want to know something."

    "What is it?" Toby asked as he shuffled uncomfortably. "It better not be about leaving you two, Bert told us to go. How can you hold that against us?"

    "That right, we were only doing what we were told," Jane said, her voice taking on a pleading almost whiny edge. "And we deserve to survive, no, to live. Like you said before we entered the Spire, Fritz."

    "Even after I joined the fight with Steve? You fled there, again. Left Sid and I to fight by ourselves, again," Fritz said, holding back the fury he felt from having his own words thrown back at him.

    The pair fell silent.

    "Fine, I don''t care about that," Fritz lied. "What I want to know is what you''re doing here."

    "Climbing, what else," Toby scoffed, unable to suppress his snarky nature.

    "How''d you get the coin?" Bert asked.

    "Nightshark paid, we met them after we left with our Paths, and they offered us a free Climb if we worked for them," Toby provided, falling into a more relaxed, though still guarded, posture now that it seemed that Fritz and his team meant them no harm, yet. "It seemed a good deal, so we took it. Jane needed some convincing though."

    "The Spires are deadly," Jane said annoyed, then she sighed. "But this one is much easier, as they said it would be, don''t even need a Guide."

    "This one?" Lauren asked quizzically, then her gaze sharpened. "There''s another?"

    Jane covered her mouth and shook her head. She''d never been a great liar, though she didn''t need to be.

    "Only the supremely secret Rain Spire," Toby said drily, rolling his eyes.

    "And you had badges for it?" Lauren said even more sceptically.

    Toby gave Fritz and Bert an imploring look.

    "Not important," Fritz interjected. "What is important, and my last question, before you two scurry back to your rat-fondling friends is this: Is there anything valuable on this floor?"

    "It''s all just dusty, jumbled books and papers filled with meaningless scribbles," Toby lied.

    "I see," Fritz said coldly.

    "If that''s all..." Jane said.

    "It is, that''s all," he said, sheathing Quicksilver and waving them away as if he were a king dismissing his court. His gut was roiling and he couldn''t bear to see their faces or hear their bold faced lies.

    "I''ll walk you out," Bert said, acting the butler for some reason. He also likely wanted to talk to them on his own. Reassure them that he at least bore them no ill will. If that''s what Bert wanted to do then Fritz wouldn''t stand in his way, no matter how much it pained him.

    Soon Bert was back, a sour, sad look to him. A look quite unusual to him, but absolutely understandable, given the circumstances.

    The team gathered quietly, then sagged and sat, the fatigue from their flight finally falling on them. A drop of water leaked from the barred door, trickling down the wood.

    Cal broke the silence, "What do we do now?"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 46

    "For now we stay together, avoid the other crew and search through the books for anything useful," Fritz stated to his team, gathered as they were behind the lightly groaning door.

    "What if they try to shut the next door on us?" Rosie asked.

    "Then we cut through it again. Hey, George," Bert said.

    George smiled proudly and nodded once from where he and his greatsword leant against a stone brick wall.

    "We''ll have to strike an accord with them," Fritz said with a sigh. "Should have sent those two with a message to their captain."

    He also chided himself that he hadn''t extracted a promise not to tell the Nightshark about all they knew about him and Bert. A mistake. He had been too preoccupied fighting with his cold anger, his deep desire for revenge. Though he did doubt that even if he had made them swear to secrecy, that those traitors would hold to it. What was another betrayal after all?

    "Lucky for you, that I, as the second command, have already done as such," Bert said, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated manner.

    Fritz blinked slowly, brought out of his dark thoughts by Bert''s voice. He put aside his plans of how to deal with the danger that the pair held, instead dwelling on the present, as he should. There were immediate problems that needed to be dealt with, and as for Toby and Jane, well, there was an entire Floor to explore and anything could happen. Even if there was a time limit in the form of flooding.

    "Good work, Bert," Fritz said donning his usual affability. "I knew I did right making you my right-hand man."

    "Best decision you''ve ever made, but that''s not saying much," Bert replied.

    "Well, let''s not dally in this hallway, we have books to find and sort," Fritz said. "Oh, and weapons ready in case they want to ambush us."

    "Is that likely? Won''t your ''friends'' dissuade them from such an action?" Lauren asked.

    "They''re not my friends," Fritz stated, somewhat harshly.

    "Then who are they?" she asked.

    "Former crew, we Climbed together for a time, but one floor went wrong, horribly wrong," Fritz explained. "The Spire tricked us, lied to us about how many exits there were. Tried to force us to fight amongst ourselves rather than search for the other, hidden, ways out. Unfortunately, it mostly succeeded. And those two turned traitor, fleeing rather than fighting, leaving Bert and I for dead."

    "Come on, Fritz, I was basically dead. I did tell them to go. We''re thieves, not knights, there''s no honour in fighting to the end. And holding onto that grudge will do you no good. Let it lie would you?" Bert said, and in his eyes amber eyes Fritz could read the "please".

    It was an earnest entreaty, one that sought to make sense of the traitorous actions. In this world of backstabbing and broken bonds, what more could you expect? What more could you demand? Even from crew.

    Fritz decided, that for now at least, he would heed Bert''s words. How could he refuse?

    "Fine. I''ll leave it be," Fritz sighed. "Though that doesn''t mean I''ll walk into a trap forged of naivety and forgiveness. Blades and flails at the ready, we set forth to treat with the others."

    "Are you going to talk to them?'' Cal asked anxiously.

    "Yes, who better?" Fritz replied. "Bert? George? You?"

    "No thanks," George said.

    "Dibs not it," Bert blurted.

    "Maybe Lauren," Cal suggested. "She''s great at negotiating."

    "When it comes to merchants and bartering I would agree," Lauren said. "However, I have little experience with these rough sorts. And could make some terrible blunder"

    "So that leaves me or Rosie," Fritz concluded.

    "Not me," Rosie declared. "Unless they''re fish I don''t think I could charm them as well as Fritz."

    "Exactly," Fritz agreed. "Now let''s stop the chatter and get moving. Eyes wide team."

    Cautiously, carefully, Fritz and his team stepped up the stairs, stopping in the arch of the still-open double doors, on the threshold of entering the ancient archive beyond.

    Fritz could see the six members of the other team lurking outside the lantern light, their own glowstones put away so as to hide in the shadows in the alleys between bookcases. He pretended his eyes couldn''t pierce the dark as easily as a cloudless day and stood there, waiting as they whispered amongst themselves. The members of the other team, save Toby and Jane, were at least a decade older than Fritz''s own team. They were likely veterans of the Mer and Sunken Spires by the look of them, their scars and stony faces telling a story of long-suffering and longer survival.

    Toby and Jane seemingly had the most to say, though he couldn''t make out their soft words. A breeze danced around them, sweeping up sound and dust alike.

    Through his Awareness, he could feel the wind was connected to an Ability used by a thin, tall man in dark leather armour holding a long staff of gnarled wood. He brushed shoulder-length dirty blond hair from his face as the wind played with the greasy strands. The air caster looked to have little interest in the conversation, as did the small woman beside him. She was athletically built, had violet hair and fit tightly into those same dark leathers the other crew wore, seemingly she had gone with a size too small for even her slighter frame. The woman was also armed with two mismatched daggers, likely both magical, possibly even Imbued.

    Fritz casually leant on Quicksilver as if it were a cane, and after a tense minute a man cut off their low argument and strode forward into the bright ring of light his team''s lantern cast. It wasn''t the man who took a swing at him while they were fleeing from the flood. That man stood back in the dark, his hand on the haft of his hammer.

    Fritz assumed the approaching figure to be the opposing Captain. He was on the shorter side, had a shaved head and face beginning to bloom with stubble. He was clad in dark leathers over his limbs while his chest was covered with a dull rainsteel breastplate. What little could be seen of his arms were corded with thick muscle and his face was grim, even when he attempted to smile, which he did. It looked brutal. Though not quite as brutal as the large, stone-grey, bone club he carried over his shoulders, one hand on its hide-wrapped handle.

    "Take it you''re Fritz, and you''re not a ghost," the man said, coming to stand before him just out of the reach of his blade.

    "You are correct on both accounts," Fritz began in polite tones before he noticed disdain of his noble speech creeping into the man''s dirt brown eyes. Abandoning his airs, Fritz continued in a more appropriate, coarser, manner. "I''m Fritz, not a ghost. Used to do jobs for Kind Ron. Who are you then?"

    "Larry," the man provided.

    "Larry legbreaker?" Fritz asked.

    "The very same," the man said with a smirk like a bludgeon. "Glad you''ve heard of me. I won''t need to tell you why you should do as I say."

    Fritz didn''t need telling, the man had quite the reputation, one almost as bloody as Jagged Nic''s. He was suspected to be one of the Nightshark''s most trusted enforcers and a brutal, effective way of sending a message to the gangs that displeased them. Fritz dearly wished for a way to be able to sense a man''s level or relative strength, while he knew the man was strong, he didn''t know if his reputation was just due to the power disparity between him and those he ''visited'' or an actual show of true strength.

    Larry couldn''t be a higher level than Nic, could he? And Fritz had been able to cut Nic, and now he was even stronger. Fritz was sick of being pushed around, especially in a Spire, where the eyes of the powerful weren''t able to watch. It was time to test the waters, see how far he could push.

    "I should do as you say? And why should I do that?" Fritz asked affably, which caused Larry''s gaze to harden.

    "''Cause if you don''t I''ll break your legs," Larry said, shifting the heavy club on his shoulders.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    "Yes, yes. It''s in the name, I get that," Fritz said feigning no concern. "However, it might be simpler and less painful to let us go our own ways, or trade information."

    "Less painful for you maybe," Larry said.

    Fritz smiled a charming, only slightly smug smile, and Larry bristled.

    "Fritz is right, Larry," Toby said. "Who''s knowing what kind of tricks and Treasure they all have. We already lost three on the last floor and two more just getting to the sixth. Best we just go our own ways."

    "Yeah, and we don''t want any needless wounds," Jane added. "If you make us fight here I won''t heal you."

    It was an unexpected call for peace, though it was one Fritz welcomed. As much as he didn''t want to be bullied and bulled over by Larry, he wasn''t exactly keen on fighting him either, even if the man could prove a good way to measure the progress of his own Powers. He looked like a Striker or perhaps a Defender, an interesting match-up to be sure, but one that might be a toss-up depending on their respective kits.

    "That, and Fritz is a pain in the arse and a half," Toby grumbled. "Triply so if he''s not on your side."

    "That so," Larry mused. "He''s the mad one that robbed the duke, yeah?"

    "We helped, but yes," Toby said.

    Larry smiled at that. "Good, I hate that prick. Upped the rent and got the drizzlers to chuck me and me ma'' out when we couldn''t pay. Lousy skulgspawn, throwing all us to the gutters like that," he spat.

    "Hate them bastards," Rosie agreed.

    "His son was on the sixth floor," Fritz provided.

    "Damn, must have got there after we left, woulda'' waited and followed if I knew," Larry groused.

    "You would have met resistance, they were with both a Guide and an important scion of the Empire," Fritz informed the man.

    "Damn, maybe it''s well that we didn''t wait too long on the sixth then," Larry sighed.

    After some thought the man seemed to come to a decision.

    "Right, you leave us be and we leave you be," Larry said.

    "Really?" Fritz said, letting some surprise show.

    "Yeah, after you show us what you got stuffed in those packs," Larry stated.

    Fritz stiffened and his team raised their weapons, it seemed there was no need to consult them on what they considered to be the right action. And they were right, show even a little bit of weakness and this team would roll right over them and take what they wanted.

    "No," Fritz said smiling sharply.

    "No?" Larry asked, frowning, then slinging his club off his shoulders. Its knobbly head hit the stone with a loud crack, sending up dust in a small cloud.

    "No," Fritz stated again, though he made no move to raise his own blade, instead choosing to project an air of casual confidence, and wrapping himself in Dusksong.

    "Are you sure? What''s in those bags ain''t worth your life kid," Larry warned. The team in the shadows shuffled, unsheathed their blades and prepared to strike if commanded.

    "We would rather die," Fritz declared, weaving his curse into his next words. "Take one step closer and I''ll cut your throat. Is that worth it?"

    Larry scowled while the draining power of Lethargy sunk into his body, making his shoulders sag slightly.

    "Larry, leave it," Jane hissed.

    A tense silence fell over the two teams as they stood off against each other, each glaring and waiting for the other to make a move.

    Larry sighed wearily. "Have it your way. We''ll go left, you go right, and hopefully, we won''t have this conversation again. And close the doors before you go, it''ll buy more time to search for the way out and Treasures."

    He motioned to his team and they lit up their magical lights, then he walked away, gathering his crew and leaving through an alley to the left. Before they set off, the hammer man approached smiling sheepishly. He was an average-looking fellow, with brown hair and blue eyes, and decently muscular. He wasn''t in the same dark leathers, instead, he wore armour of muddy scales.

    "Just thought I''d come make me introductions and offer me apologies," the hammer man said. "Name''s Fred. I know it''s a little late, but sorry for the whole hammer-to-the-face thing. In my defence, I thought you were going to do the same to me."

    Strangely enough, Fritz believed his words and the friendly demeanour didn''t come off as an act.

    "Good of you to apologise, though you needn''t do so. We were foes at the time, hard to hold a grudge for something like that," Fritz said.

    "Just didn''t sit right to leave without saying anythin''," Fred said with a shrug. "I''ll buy you a beer on the outside. No hard feelings."

    "No hard feelings," Fritz agreed, and shook the hand Fred offered.

    Then he turned and followed his team, leaving Toby and Jane who said a stilted farewell and quickly retreated.

    When the sight of the last grubby back had disappeared, Fritz let out a long relieved sigh.

    "That was close," Bert said.

    "Too close," Fritz agreed.

    "Did you have to antagonise them?" Lauren asked. "I thought we wanted to avoid a fight, yet you were basically taunting them."

    "That was the way to avoid bloodshed," Fritz explained. "You can''t back down in front of thugs like Larry. Like any predator if you show any hint of weakness they''ll pounce."

    "True as the rain," Rosie said.

    "If we gave into his demand to see our stuff he might have thought us easy prey and pushed further. I must say it was well done displaying both your metal and your mettle the moment he asked," Fritz said. "Really made him think twice about attacking right then and there."

    "Think they''ll try again," Lauren asked gloomily.

    "Certainly, though not right away," Fritz espoused. "Likely in one of the other rooms. Once we''re sure to have gathered something good."

    "Toby and Jane don''t want to fight," Bert said.

    "Yes, that was a surprise," Fritz mused. "Or maybe not, they are cowards."

    Bert rolled his eyes.

    "They''ll definitely try before the Stairway, if not right by the Stairway," Fritz said. "Now bar the door and let''s get to searching."

    "Searching for what?" Cal asked as he and Bert hefted up a thick wood plank that was conveniently leaning on a nearby wall.

    "Techniques," Fritz said with a wide smile.

    ---

    "Are we sure there are Techniques here?" Bert grumbled, pulling book after book off the shelves, perusing the pages for a moment before dropping them on the floor. "This is all nonsense."

    "Maybe," Fritz croaked, his throat clogged by the dust. "The other team seemed to think so."

    They had been searching through the piles of books scrolls and tablets for hours at this point, rooting through shelves upon shelves of meaningless scrawlings and unidentifiable diagrams.

    "I don''t even know many letters," Rosie said. "Don''t know what I''m looking for."

    "That''s actually an advantage here. If you can read it, it''s likely a Technique book," Fritz theorised.

    "Still, it''s like a needle in a haystack," Lauren bemoaned as she sorted through some scrolls.

    "Cal don''t touch that big leather-bound tome there," Fritz warned. "It''s trapped."

    He had been periodically pulsing his Trap Sense, finding and flagging the cursed or runed books and papers, saving him and his team from whatever miseries lay within.

    Cal pulled his hand back with a grimace, then selected another book beside it, this one having a stiff wooden cover.

    "How long will we search?" He asked, setting the book back when it proved to be unreadable.

    "A couple more hours," Fritz said. "If we find nothing we can change our strategy."

    "Wish you picked Treasure Sense," Bert grumbled.

    "You had the choice of Treasure sense!?" Lauren asked frustratedly, unfurling a scroll, then throwing it over her shoulder.

    "I did. Though it was either that or my Umbral Phase, which saved my life," Fritz replied flippantly. "And I have a feeling that it would be shrouded on this Floor anyway."

    "Shrouded?" George asked.

    "It happens, some Floors will have ''rules'' that affect Abilities or other properties, especially Senses," Lauren said. "Sapphire said that Floors in larger Spires are more likely to be affected in such ways. Like the Rain Spire, it will often suppress fire-aligned Abilities or shroud certain sight and sound based Senses."

    "Good to know," Fritz said, glancing over the covers of a whole series of books.

    "Annoying too, considering I have fire Abilities," Lauren said.

    "I''m sure your Fire Breath will still be potent on the other Floors," Fritz consoled. "More than potent, deadly, disastrous even."

    "You''re likely right," Lauren said with a small sigh that stirred the dusty air.

    "Oh ho! What''s this!" George boomed, uncovering what looked like a bound-up bundle of neatly cut sticks from beneath a stack of books. Immediately Fritz could tell something was different about the object, and soon the crew was gathered around the fortunate find.

    George unwrapped what seemed like a scroll made of small slats of thin pale wood tied together with lines of white, silk thread. It clattered as it was unfurled like a loosely packed bedroll and in the light of the lantern, Fritz could make out the writing and diagrams of a robed man moving through fluid stances, all depicted in black ink.

    "Mist Art: Mystic Forms," George read to the apprehensive team. Then he frowned, disappointed. "Damn. It''s not the sword forms."

    "No, it looks more to be a magical shaping Technique," Lauren said, she pointed to a section at the top of the scroll. "It mentions here that it can transform water-aligned Abilities to be more mist-like and give you far more control over already mist-aligned spells."

    "Too bad we have no water mages," Bert observed. "But those stances look exotic! Very eye-catching."

    "Don''t you dare learn a Technique useless to you because you think it''s aesthetically pleasing," Fritz warned.

    "Do you think it''ll work with my acid?" Bert asked.

    "Of course not," Fritz said. "Idiot."

    "Maybe," Lauren corrected.

    "Maybe?" Bert asked eagerly, pushing closer to the wooden scroll.

    "It may work, or it may have unintended effects, or it might just not affect your Abilities at all," she replied, shrugging. "I don''t really know, I''ve only heard about the Sword-style version. It''s rather famous, due to the tales of the peerless swordsmen that come from the Land of Mist."

    "Not exactly peerless, there are other great sword Techniques; The Inevitable Blade, The Scouring Sandstorm, The Mountain Splitter and The Sun''s Zenith all have a claim to being the most lauded or most powerful. But the Mist style is definitely one of the great or just the most mist-erious of the sword Techniques," George explained. Obviously, he had done some digging on the subject of swords and swordplay, although that did nothing to sharpen his sense of humour, judging from the pun.

    Bert grinned and laughed. "Hand it here, I''ll look it over later. Wouldn''t mind turning my spray into a mist."

    Fritz briefly thought on how the Mist Art may affect his own Abilities. He failed to see how it could change Stone Pit or Gloom Strike, though it might have some promise when paired with Lethargy or Illusory Shadow. A mist of darkness or stamina sapping could come in useful. The Technique could also highlight some interesting ways to use his Passives, but he only had one Technique Channel left before he had to start the painful process of forgetting the Arte Pugilist.

    He had decided to remove it some time ago. Not because it was useless, no it had likely saved his life a couple of times at least. But because he felt that it would be the easiest to part with when compared to ''The Observations'' and whatever other Technique he would choose to internalise. And now that he had Quicksilver and Mortal Edge the benefits it conferred to unarmed combat would be largely wasted.

    "Fritz, you interested in it too?" Bert asked as he rolled up the Technique and stored it away in his pack.

    "Perhaps," Fritz allowed.

    "I might have a look at it too," Lauren said. "Wonder if it could make my Fire Breath more mist-like, and as I have no Techniques yet I''m not worried about experimenting a little."

    "Remember it can influence the Spire offerings," Fritz reminded her.

    "I know, I think it''s worth the risk," she stated easily.

    "Fair, and if worst comes to worst we can always just sell it," Fritz said.

    "It''d be worth hundreds of gold, maybe thousands," Lauren said. "We''ve been incredibly fortunate so far. Are you sure you don''t have a Treasure Sense or maybe Attract Treasure Ability?"

    "Alas, I only have my Trap and Danger Senses," Fritz bemoaned.

    "Only," Cal grumbled, though he smiled while he did so.

    "Well, now that we know that there are Techniques hidden within these archives, we should get back to searching."

    The chamber shuddered for a moment, and after a minute something slammed against the double doors. The wood groaned under the new pressure.

    "Or maybe we should take our leave."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 47

    "Yes, let''s go," Fritz agreed. Another shudder shook the room, sending books to the stone bricks and a wave of fear through him.

    He didn''t want to risk the wrath of the flood again. Quickly he and his team were packed and moving through the winding bookcase alleys. Fritz followed his Door Sense''s impressions, he would pulse it and marvel at how little it strained him now, noticing as well how much easier it was to ''tune'' it to what he was searching for. It must be the higher alignment to Focus and Control, he concluded.

    Focus had truly freed up more of his mind, made it far simpler to concentrate on what he was doing, while Control seemed to give him greater power to manipulate his Senses and his Attributes. It seemed it wasn''t limited to just Ability shaping as he had previously thought. More and more the two Attributes showed their worth, and he felt like his previous self was a fool for disregarding them as he had. Though maybe he shouldn''t be too harsh, he''d only known the very basics back then, and even then theoretical knowledge was one thing and experience was another.

    Fritz brought his mind back to finding the path toward the doors. Though the multitude of shelves and the occasional broken displays or rotten murals were maze-like in their placements he was able to divine a sort of pattern to the chaos. Always the passage that seemingly led to the way out would be a dead end or loop in on itself while the circuitous route would often lead them, meanderingly, to where he desired to go.

    He supposed there was some lesson to it, some ''profound truth'', but he had no time for such things, this place would be underwater within the hour. That and the hidden meaning would likely be some worthless platitude about ''the way toward true understanding is long and winding, slow down and consider all before you rush by it''. Something completely at odds with his own path and purpose. He couldn''t wait, couldn''t slow down, he was afforded no such luxury. The moment he stopped swimming he''d drown.

    Soon the doors and the stairs beyond were close, as was the other team. He could hear them, shuffling through the corridors and stopping at intersections just as he was. Though they were lagging somewhat compared to him and his own team. Whatever Ability the others were using to navigate was effective, though not as effective as his own Senses. He thought it might be the Air-mage''s Ability, as he could hear a man whisper about ''the wind''s flow''.

    Reading the air currents to discover the way out was definitely a useful skill and something Fritz attempted to replicate only once before finding the breeze far too soft to feel. He suspected he might be able to accomplish the feat with high enough Perception and practice, but not as he was now.

    Fritz and his team came out of the library''s winding paths before the other team, gathering on the stairs beyond, panting slightly and waiting.

    "Should we close it on them?" Rosie asked.

    "They did the same to us," Cal stated. "It would be fair play."

    "It would be," Fritz agreed while his Dusksong chimed along, entreating him to return the disrespect.

    "We agreed not to," Bert said.

    "Did we?" Lauren asked.

    "I thought it was implied," Bert said with a shrug.

    "Implied or not, it would set a bad precedent," Fritz said, pushing down his Dusksong.

    "They set it first," Rosie grumbled.

    "We''ll close one side, and be prepared to bar it once they come through," Fritz decided.

    "Good idea, they''ll also get a move on if they think we''re shutting them out," Bert said.

    "We could just leave them to close the doors," Lauren said. "We don''t have to do everything ourselves."

    "Huh, you''re right. I think the other doors will take at least another fifteen minutes to break. Plenty of time for them to get here," Fritz said. "Good plan, let''s go. Scratch a message into the bar to say we''ve gone ahead."

    "Let me," Bert said, pulling out a spare dagger and carving an explanation and something appropriately rude into the wood.

    With that done, they left the doors and strode up the steps to the next section of the archives.

    "How many floors do you think this place has?" Lauren asked as they climbed.

    "Nine?" Cal guessed.

    "Too many," Fritz theorised. "This is the eighth Floor of the Spire, and I don''t think this library will go higher than that."

    "And it''ll want to be a multiple of three, so you''re thinking six?" Lauren asked.

    "Precisely. Just an intuition, mind you, though it feels right," Fritz stated.

    "I think so too," Rosie added. "Do you think that''s Awareness?"

    "Probably," Fritz allowed. "It''s an odd Attribute to be sure."

    "Yeah, it''s weird, not as uhh... real as Durability or Strength," she commented.

    Rosie was right. Awareness was definitely one of the more ineffable, esoteric, Attributes, rife with mysteries and vagaries. While the physical Advanced Attributes, like Grace, even if it had a smooth, slippery texture, felt far more solid. Absently he flexed his fingers, sensing Grace play across his hand.

    They stepped through the arch and into a far more organised floor, this one had only one level but its outer walls were lined with murals, mosaics and painted tiles. The bookcases had been replaced with tall wall displays, and flanking those were sculptures or plinths holding other various artefacts of pottery and carved wood. That''s not to say much of it was in good condition. The stored pieces were all still... old, ancient, chipped and bare. Dusty, dirty, beyond repair.

    Fritz shook his head, scaled a sturdy display and stared into the bright dark. On one outer wall, far away, he thought he saw a small inscribed figure holding a sword. The tiled surface could just be seen, its highest pieces peeked over the display walls and he pointed it out to George.

    "Can''t see, it''s too dark," George replied. "Can you lead us there?"

    "Indeed, and as it seems the best place to start our search we should get to it post haste," Fritz announced.

    Soon they were amongst the small walls and statues. Many were shattered and some had crumbled into rubble, though here and there there were stones that could be recognised as faces or limbs.

    "This is more like a museum, than a library," Lauren commented, as she ran a hand over a cracked bust. A monument to a long dead, or perhaps a completely fake, woman. Only a toga-clad shoulders and a neck remained, the head had broken off, likely now the gravel that lay at their feet.

    "A what?" Cal asked.

    "It''s an archive of objects, rather than books," she provided as the bust cracked down the middle and fell into chunks.

    "Looks like rubbish," Rosie said.

    "Keep an eye out for anything that looks valuable," Fritz reminded. Though he didn''t need to, his team''s gazes were keenly looking for potential Treasures and hints of Techniques. "And let me search for traps before you touch anything."

    "Yeah, yeah," Bert said, slapping Fritz on the shoulder. "We know what to do, let''s get going. We don''t want the others to catch up and steal our lead."

    "How right you are," Fritz agreed, then with no more words led them into the halls of shattered stone, lantern held high.

    They passed by many odd and broken histories, the prevailing themes presented, over and over seemed to be the fall of empires, great kings and wizard-lords. None were recognisable to Fritz and Lauren thought them to be false even if some of the stories seemed vaguely familiar. They had all the credibility and consistency of bedtime tales only half-remembered.

    "Just something concocted by the Spire," she said as they passed by a depiction of an oddly styled castle being split by lightning. "There''s no rhyme or reason, from what I can see."

    "Could be ancient, long-forgotten lore. From a time before the Spires," Fritz mused, though he didn''t truly believe it. These artefacts were like the statues in the previous Well, all subtly wrong, blending together like a fever dream.

    "No, none of that," Lauren warned sternly. "Men have gone mad trying to study the false histories provided by Spires. You can''t trust them to be real."

    "I know, I know. It would just be interesting if they could tell us something of the past world," Fritz sighed.

    "Why? The world is as it is," Rosie said. "What it was is gone."

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    "Mighty profound, Rosie," Fritz smirked over his shoulder. "Planning on a Path Evolution to Philosopher Guard?

    "I ain''t goin'' to be a fish-offer-sizer guard, the dock markets stink," Rosie said, scrunching her face. "Between Climbs I''ll be a bodyguard, protect a rich-handsome-man, a noble or somethin''."

    "Of course you would," Cal said with a sigh.

    "With the riches we''ve found I doubt you''ll need to work between Climbs," Bert said. "Unless you plan on spending up a storm like me."

    "Then I''m going to save my rich-handsome-man from an assassin, then he''ll fall in love with me," Rosie stated as if it were all planned out already.

    "Oh, and he''ll leave his lady wife and marry you?" Lauren asked, both intrigued and sceptical of the scheme.

    "Nah, nothing like that, but we''ll have a bunch of kids," she said, smiling and scratching at the scales on her shoulder.

    "Scandalous!" Bert laughed.

    "I know!" Rosie chuckled along.

    "Rosie! No!" Cal cried, grimacing.

    Lauren''s face warred between delight and disgust as if she didn''t know what to think. Eventually, she settled on a stifled cackle. George merely shook his head with a smile.

    Fritz ignored the chattering, letting his team, joke and jest. Soon they took to expounding on their ideas for spending the inordinate wealth they had acquired. They each had their distant dreams and far away fantasies, not all could be fulfilled right away but this Climb was the crucial first step towards a new life. One where they could choose. It was a freeing feeling, though Fritz didn''t dare share in it, somehow he felt his fate was tied up in some great storm.

    Eventually, they wound their way to where Fritz had seen the inscribed tiles of the swordsman. He held the lantern up so the rest could see what he had found. There, running up and across the wall, were around a hundred hand-sized slates of white clay, all carved with an armoured man holding a long sword in both hands. In each depiction, the warrior''s footing and martial form changed. The tiles detailed the solid, staunch stances and strong, sweeping strikes.

    "Whoa," George said, his gaze dancing all over the wall. "It''s beautiful."

    "It''s kind of blocky," Cal said, and Fritz had to agree with him, while the lines of the carving were bold and clear, artistically they left a lot to be desired.

    "Stiff," Bert agreed.

    "They are somewhat simple," Lauren observed.

    "Look how clean the lines are, the simplicity is the point!" George cried.

    The team stared at him, surprised at his sudden, heated outburst.

    "Sorry," George said, getting a hold of himself.

    "No sorrys needed, your passion for swords merely startled us," Fritz said. The rest of his team nodded.

    "Fritz... I dread the answer, but is this just art or is it..." George said, as if not wanting to get his hopes up.

    "Oh, that''s a Technique alright," Fritz said with a sly smile.

    George grinned wide, then his smile faltered as he looked over the hundred tiles.

    "I''ll need help prying them off," he said.

    "You heard the man, let''s strip this wall," Fritz ordered.

    ---

    "Pass me up the chisel," Fritz said as he sat atop Bert''s shoulders. He grumbled but handed up the tool of sleek black metal. Fritz took it and put the edge between the tile and the wall, prying up the depiction of the swordsman, catching it and handing it down. Not all the inscribed tiles were so hard to shift, in fact, most came free with just a pull. Though some, like this current one that was above Fritz''s own height, needed the attention, or rather the leverage, of the dark chisel.

    The work taking down the Technique tiles had taken fifteen minutes so far and they were close to two-thirds done. George was nearly prancing with each excited step, and humming a low tuneless song, so delighted he was at their discovery. Fritz had often thought the man needed to smile and speak more, and now he regretted those thoughts. A dumb grin hadn''t left George''s face the whole time they had been busy, and he would prattle on, trying to guess which sword style they had found.

    It was obviously one that was a two-handed Technique with a focus on devastating, singular, straight cuts. Meant to fight hordes of beasts, or lonesome large monsters, judging from the examples painted on the pale clay. What it had in sturdy substance it lacked subtlety or guile and likely wasn''t well suited to duels. Therefore, it was of little interest to Fritz who''s fighting style favoured more flash and flourishing.

    It was perfect, however, for George. Fritz cursed the man''s luck. Why couldn''t they find a sword style for him?

    "Can I use the chisel, this one is stuck fast," George said in a giddy, nearly singsong manner.

    "Sure thing," Fritz said, hoping his smile didn''t look strained. He flung the tool to his teammate.

    George caught it easily and gave it a glance before holding its point to a stuck tile. Then his grin fell away and he frowned, hard, staring, glaring, not at the wall, but at the black metal of the chisel.

    "What in the abyss?.. what?... where?" he said, then he turned his glare on Fritz and Bert and held out the tool. "Where did you get this!?"

    "Spire," the two said together.

    "What''s wrong with it?" Fritz asked.

    "Did you break it?" Bert added.

    "Nothing and no. I don''t think I could break it, even if I wanted to," George replied running a hand over his shaved head. "You don''t know what you have do you?"

    "A chisel?" Fritz said.

    "A rustproof tool?" Bert elaborated.

    George looked at them with intense yellow eyes that were almost annoyed.

    "What is it?" They asked, now interested.

    "Adamant," George said.

    "Like what the bow covers itself in?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes, but that''s just conjured material," George said.

    "There''s a difference?" Fritz asked.

    "Obviously, conjured materials disappear over time," George said with a roll of his eyes. "But what you''ve got here is a Gods damned sliver of pure adamant."

    "Okay, and that''s....rare?" Bert asked.

    "Very. Outside the Stone or Metal Spires it''s near unheard of," George said.

    "What''s so special about it," Fritz inquired. "I know it''s rust-proof and tough, but that goes for many magical metals."

    "It''s Adamant, it''s near unbreakable, immune to all attempts to destroy it," George proclaimed.

    "All attempts?" Bert mused.

    "Very few things can damage Adamant," George said. "A God could. And a Dragon. Or a Leviathan. Maybe, just maybe, a Master Climber."

    "I know there''s not enough for a sword, but do you think there''s enough that it can be reforged into a dagger?" Fritz asked.

    "Or gauntlets," Bert said.

    "Abyss, no! Are you not listening!? It''s so inured to heat and flame that you would need dragon''s breath or a lava forge just to begin to work with the stuff," George explained, near ranting. "Even then you would need an enchanted anvil, and hammer, to come close to reforging it. And those would likely need to be replaced after mere minutes of work."

    "Ah, too bad," Fritz said dejectedly, though he found Georges raving''s somewhat amusing and hid a smirk.

    George ignored him and continued his tirade. "And it''s this great, inviolable metal that has been used to make a chisel!"

    "A chisel!" He repeated. "What..a..waste!"

    With that the man seemed to run out of steam and sagged, sitting heavily on the ground, his head in hands, grumbling something about cruel, stupid Spires.

    "Pass the adamant chisel would you?" Fritz said nonchalantly.

    "We''ve still got to get these tiles off," Bert added.

    That caused George to lift his eyes, he stared at the two for a second, then smiled while shaking his head.

    "Right you are," he said. "One moment, I''ve got my own to pry up."

    With that they were back to work, Bert Fritz and George pulling the Technique off the wall while the others sorted the tiles behind them before stacking them in Cal''s black pack. Soon after that, it was lunch, more stew, and likely one of the last hot meals they would have unless they came across some edible monsters or plants. They were at least well provisioned with rations, having a full week''s supply of them, but no one wanted to go back to the mushy, flaky bland bars of questionable content.

    Again they were off into the winding halls, and although they looked for Treasures or valuable artefacts there were few to find. A few baubles here and there but nothing that was as downright magnificent as the Techniques they had found.

    "Think we''ll find another?" Rosie asked.

    "Two is already extremely fortunate," Lauren said. "Even if they turn out to be less powerful or more limited Techniques."

    "Less powerful?" Rosie asked. "Aren''t they all about the same?"

    "No, not really," Lauren said. "There are better and worse ones."

    "I''m not sure that''s true," Fritz said. "My father said all Techniques had different strengths and weaknesses, and not to discount the seemingly weak ones because they all gave an edge. So much so that even the Spires acknowledge it."

    "When you learn a Technique it should be specialised rather than versatile," Lauren argued. "There''s no use in a weapon master Technique when you only use a sword. You should rather go for a sword style. Specialisation over versatility. Even then, some Techniques are better than others, for example: Dantovi Dagger Dancing is far more refined and respected than Jim''s ex-stabber-ganza."

    "I know which one I''d pick," Bert said. "Jim sounds alright with a well-named Technique like that."

    "Refined and respected, sure," Fritz said, ignoring his friend''s comments. "Though the claim that it''s worse doesn''t hold. It might even be better in some situations."

    "Unlikely," Lauren said dismissively. "There''s a reason certain rare and secret Techniques are handed down through noble families. It''s because they''re more powerful than the rest."

    Fritz wondered at that. Was it entirely true? He had no doubt that powerful Techniques were kept by the nobles, but were they strictly better in all respects? Maybe they were. Although eventually, he''d try to find out. He''d have to research it on the outside, there were so many things he had left to discover. He was almost level eighteen, about to start Evolving his Abilities, and yet he still felt he had only scratched the surface and that he still had so much to learn about, well, everything.

    He let the talk die down, taking a left and striding down a passage in contemplative quiet. Out of the corner of his eye something tugged at his attention. There in the dark was a mural, mostly rotted away. This one, unlike all the others, held an oddity to it that was subtly different, and a little intriguing.

    What he could make out of the faded mural didn''t mean much to him. At the bottom, there were people, kneeling and holding up their arms in worship or perhaps defiance. Standing above them was a smattering of strange human-like creatures, one of which he recognised as a faerie with wings like a moth. Above them all was a rotted hole in the fabric, but from it three great, smooth limbs encompassed and enclosed the entire gathering.

    "What''s that? Why''d you stop?" Rosie asked.

    "No reason just got a strange feeling from this one," Fritz said. "It''s nothing."

    "Maybe the faerie reminds you of someone," Bert said, nudging him with an elbow. "Maybe a certain Duskmoth."

    "That must be it," Fritz said, turning away.

    "It''s false, completely meaningless, remember," Lauren chided.

    "Of course, it''s nonsense," Fritz lied.

    They moved on from the mural, and Fritz saw nothing else that unsettled him or piqued his interest. In fact, he was beginning to think that the Sword-style tiles were the only real prize to be had in this archive. How he wished he could''ve chosen Treasure Sense, this silent searching was starting to get boring and he could tell that his team were becoming restless. It also didn''t help that the traps were increasing in frequency, if not subtlety. The traps were no longer limited to cursed books and poisoned scrolls. They had encountered sudden pits and falling stones and they were getting increasingly prevalent, perhaps to make up for the ease of the maze. Fritz suspected the danger would only get worse from then on.

    Distantly he had the impression that the great library they were in was sinking sooner, flooding faster and the dripping of the outermost walls seemed to collaborate that conclusion.

    "We should leave this floor, quick as may be," Fritz announced to his following team.

    "Why? We''ve only been here a few hours at most," Bert asked.

    "There''s a time limit to this place, and I want to be as high and as close to the stairway as we can be," Fritz explained. "Even if it means we can''t comb through everything for Treasures."

    "Strange we haven''t seen a chest yet," Cal said.

    "It''s stranger that the Techniques were just part of this Floor''s materials," Lauren said. "Though we should have seen another bronze chest by now. Then again, I think our mad dash to the sixth Well might have cost us that."

    "I think the raider had better loot than a chest," Rosie stated.

    "True as the rain," Cal replied.

    They had to slowed to a walk and Fritz led them to the other set of double doors and up to the next floor. It seemed they were first this time as well, judging by the thick layer of undisturbed dust. Unfortunately, that same dust was kicked up as they walked up the stone stairs. Sneezing and spluttering, they took to covering their mouths and noses with sheer sashes of sirensilk.

    "Bloody dust," Bert snuffled. ''My Vitality does nothing against it."

    "I could burn it away," Lauren offered.

    "I''m very sure that''s a terrible idea," Fritz said. "Heard of a flour explosion? Seen a watermill blow up like an amateur alchemist''s lab? It''s quite horrifying, louder than thunder and as deadly, if not more so, than a bolt of lightning."

    "Oh, right, yes, that would be bad," Lauren said the embers in her eyes dying down.

    "I''m just glad there''s no cobwebs," Cal said.

    "Why''s that?" Fritz asked.

    "No cobwebs, no spiders," he said cheerily.

    They were nearly at the top of the stairs when Fritz stopped and held his lantern close to the arch of the double doors. There was a thick covering of thin gossamer threads, covered in dust and crisscrossing the entire entrance.

    "Damn you, Cal," Fritz said. "You just had to say it."

    Cal''s face fell when he stared up at the webbed doors.

    "Sorry."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 48

    "This must be your fault," Fritz proclaimed, motioning to the sticky webs covering the way forward. "Who brings up spiders in a Spire."

    "Don''t blame, Cal," Rosie said, puffing out her chest. "These webs must have been here far before we got here. And it''s not like the Spires listen to us."

    "The first is a fair point, the second is not," Fritz said. "Spires absolutely listen to us, and have sick senses of humour. Be wary of what you say within their walls."

    "That''s a terribly common superstition," Lauren said. "I''m surprised you hold to it."

    "I am a man of surprises," Fritz replied easily.

    "Are there any spiders or is it just webs?" Bert asked squeezing to the front of the team.

    Fritz took a closer look, leveraging his far higher Perception letting his eyes glide over the sticky threads.

    "I can''t see any spiders," Fritz said. "And there''s only one way to check."

    He pulled free Mortal Edge and slid its bone blade over the webs. The cut parted them like a set of thin, grey curtains, the sides sagged, falling to the floor with a soft thud, weighed down as they were by so much dust.

    The room beyond was completely covered in cobwebs, the bookcases and small displays looked as if they were layered in pale, gossamer sheets. Nothing stirred within, not even a light breeze rippled the grey blanket. Try as he might and straining his sight, Fritz saw nothing creeping or crawling over the countless threads.

    He passed the lantern to Bert and took a tentative, quiet step forward. His footstep was near silent and further muffled by the coating of thick dust. When there was no response from Trap Sense or Danger Sense, he moved into the room proper. There, after he''d made it about thirty feet in, something crunched under his foot. He stopped in his tracks and stood as still as stone, listening.

    Again nothing moved.

    He checked the underside of his boot and looked for what he had crushed. Unfortunately, he had reduced whatever it was to powder, only one shade paler than the dust. He continued forward, searching the bookcases and webs. Within he saw the small grey spiders. They were still, dead, their translucent, desiccated bodies the size of a fingernail. Fritz breathed out a sigh of relief and returned to his team.

    "Nothing alive, lots of dead, empty spider skins," he told them.

    "They might be undead," Cal said.

    The whole team scowled at him.

    "Sorry," he mumbled.

    "Honestly, my Senses are telling me that this room is mostly harmless," Fritz espoused, sheathing his dagger and drawing Quicksilver. He tested its black, jagged edges against the webs, finding that it cut through them with as much ease as Mortal Edge. "Though I''m not keen to search this room top to bottom, we should have better luck finding treasure on the next floor."

    The team were in agreement and they began to trek through the webbed maze, led by Fritz and George who sliced through the dusty sheets between the bookcases. All the books and scrolls were ancient, too frail to touch without destroying them. When they took the time to check a particularly sturdy tome, they found that as soon as it was opened the paper disintegrated and the pages poured out from it like sand.

    When they finally left the room, they carried out only frustration, annoyance and stuffy noses.

    "Hope the next room is better, it''ll be the fifth right?" Bert croaked.

    "I don''t know, maybe," Fritz said. "Might even be the last one."

    It was only when Fritz climbed to the very top of the stairs and pulsed his Door Sense that he got a faint response. Both from the double doors ahead of him and the Stairway beyond. Fritz wanted to sigh in relief, now that he could feel the vague impression that the Stairway to the next Well was nearby. But was distracted by what he felt from the new set of doors in front of him. They were locked and made of metal.

    Fritz strode up to the imposing slabs of steel blocking their path forward. They were similar in style, if not in substance, to the previous doors, save that they had another peculiarity; a key hole large enough he could put his finger in. And, of course, the doors were locked.

    "And here I was wondering why the loot was so unusually good, what with all the Techniques," Fritz said, then sighed in disappointment. "Now we know."

    "And what do we know?" George asked.

    "This Floor has both a time limit and a locked door," Fritz said. "Incredibly dangerous."

    "And therefore more reward," Lauren finished for him, taking off her siren silk mouth cover and shaking the dust off it. The team followed suit.

    "A locked door, so we''re looking for a key?" Cal asked.

    "Yes," Fritz said, trying to hide his annoyance at this setback.

    "Unless we can just break through," George said.

    "Be my guest, but both the lock and the door are some kind of steel," Fritz observed.

    "Out of the way then," George said, shooing the team from the doors.

    They parted, then gathered behind him.

    George''s copperchange sword lit up with a translucent white gleam around its edges. Sever screamed. He slashed, and sparks spewed with a terrible screech like nails on a chalkboard, except three times as loud.

    Fritz peered from behind the man''s armoured back and saw only the faintest line scratched upon the immovable doors.

    "No good, too tough," George said, then shrugged, "Worth a try though."

    "Chisel next!" Bert cried. Though his efforts also produced little effect, even when the tool was enhanced with Sharpen Blade. Which had been a small surprise to George as he didn''t consider the Ability''s use for tools other than weapons.

    "Acid next," Bert said, undeterred and still eager. He let loose, hosing the door down with a spray of misting liquid. It bubbled and hissed where it touched the steel, leaving behind tiny pinprick craters and a thin coat of rust. Nowhere near enough to get through the thick metal in any decent amount of time.

    "Well, it looks like we''re going to have to search for the key," Fritz said.

    "Do we know what it''ll look like?" Lauren asked.

    "Likely blocky and made of steel, like the lock itself," Fritz theorised.

    "Where there''s a steel lock there must be a steel key," Bert said sagely.

    "I don''t think that''s entirely true," George hedged.

    "It''s generally true," Bert argued, then turned to Fritz. "Have you tried picking it yet?"

    "An interesting proposition, and one that slipped my mind, why didn''t I think of that immediately," Fritz said, pulling out his fishbone picks and kneeling before the lock.

    "You''re forgetting the gutters already," Bert chided mockingly, shaking his head. "All this pretending you''re better than a sneak thief has gone to your head."

    "He is better than a sneak thief," Lauren professed. "He''s nobility."

    "She''s right," Fritz said over his shoulder. "It''s Sir sneak thief to you commoners, have some respect!"

    Bert chuckled and Lauren smiled with only a little strain.

    The picks went in smoothly, but he found that their rigid tips were pushed away from any tumblers or mechanism by a strange force that felt like the push of a lodestone. Soft at first, then unyielding.

    "It''s no good, some kind of magic is in the way," Fritz said while quickly devising a new plan.

    "Right, we''re going to have to form teams to cover the most ground. Bert and I can see in the dark, we''ll split up for solo searching so that leaves you lot with the lantern," Fritz said outlining his search plan. "We''re also looking for maps of the floor itself, which might provide the key''s location. Call out if you find it or are in danger, we''ll all run to where the noise is."

    "What if the other team have already found it?" Lauren asked.

    "Return to the locked door, then call out and we''ll come running," Fritz said.

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    "I don''t like it, spreads us too thin," Bert said. "And all the yelling won''t help anyone, it''ll just give us away."

    "I have to agree," George said, thoughtfully. "I''m not sure we''ll be much help in such a search either, even with the lantern."

    Fritz reconsidered, with two people doubting his plan, especially the quiet, trusting George, he was forced to concede their objections.

    "When you put it like that, it does feel rather a bad plan," Fritz said. "I must just be on edge for some reason. How about you four stay here, with the lantern, and Bert and I search the webbed floor together. As we''re by far the stealthiest here."

    "Much better," Bert said. "But won''t I just lose you in the dark?"

    Fritz sighed. "It looks like I''ll have to do it on my own then."

    "Such is the burden of a Scout," Bert intoned.

    Though Fritz wanted to argue, he found he couldn''t. It was the safest choice for him and his team, and apart from Rosie, he was the only one with Awareness or any Ability to help find this key, so he put on a smile and said, "Such is the burden. Though I bear its heaviness with true dignity."

    "That you do," Bert agreed, slapping him on the shoulder. "We''ll wait for your swift return," he added, then in a whisper, he continued, "Try not to bring any foes back with you this time."

    Fritz merely smirked and stepped into the shadows.

    ---

    Toby was quick to Jane''s side when she tripped, again, hefting and holding her light frame to his side tightly, saving her from another fall. Her foot had caught on the crumbling remains of a statue, one of the many they''d come across in the dark of these stony displays and plinths.

    "Not so rough," she hissed softly.

    "That''s not what you''ve told me before," Toby said, raising an eyebrow.

    "Shh," Jane whispered, smiling slightly, then punching him playfully in the ribs. "Not right now."

    "Can you two stop that constant flirting," Tara said, while spinning one of her daggers. "It''s sickening. It''s bad enough to have to camp near you, but we''re in the middle of a trapped Floor right now, so knock it off."

    "Don''t talk so much, you''re stirring up the wind," Jasper demanded, his tone breathy and distant as if he were paying attention to something else far away. Which he was. He was leading them through the stone maze with some sort of combination of Awareness, Essence of Air and a Trait named Wind Whisperer, or so he claimed.

    "They started it," Tara grumbled pushing her violet hair from her face and glaring at Jane as if it were her fault. Jane poked her tongue out at the woman who responded in kind.

    "Stop. Talking," Larry growled. And they did.

    In silence they walked through the tall displays, searching for anything of use. They still had to be wary of the traps, needing Tara to check suspicious things over with her Mana Sight while they looked. Unluckily, there was very little to find, just broken statues and shattered pottery. Even with their precautions, Toby still felt on edge, but he didn''t think it was entirely the trapped halls.

    No, seeing Fritz again, alive, unharmed and more irritating than ever, had seriously shocked him. Jane was suffering as well, he could still feel her stiff, trembling anxiety with the arm he still had wrapped around her waist. Though Fritz had claimed not to be a ghost, it was still as if they had seen one. He suppressed a shiver, even the man''s eyes had changed, the dull green mottled with purple and gleaming with slight twinkling light. Those eyes always had an arrogant look before, but now and when he had glared at them it was as if he were gazing upon wretched animals, not his fellow man.

    That, and his voice, his terrible voice.

    He didn''t know if it was just him, but he could almost hear the accusation of "Traitors" ringing at the edge of hearing. He could still feel the cold hate in that tone, like a knife tip resting against his throat. Would Fritz come for them? Bert said he''d have words with him. Could he sway the cursed fool? Would the madman listen?

    It didn''t bear thinking about, he''d just keep his eyes open and his daggers ready.

    Bert''s survival had, at least, been a relief to Toby. He and Jane had felt bad for leaving him, but they had done all they could do. The last health potion wouldn''t have worked. Or so Jane had believed. His remorse came from the fact that there was nothing that they could do, not that they had survived. They deserved to live as much as anyone else, more in fact. And Toby would cut down any who said otherwise, he had the power to do so now.

    "Jasper needs a break. Rest. Thirty minutes," Larry ordered, setting down his Borer-bone Club. Even though he lay the devastating weapon down carefully it still thumped the ground like a falling boulder. Nearby a piece of pottery slipped from a plinth and clinked to the ground.

    No one stirred from the thud, they were used to it by now. Toby was even thankful for the Treasure''s solid presence. He''d seen a brutal blow from the club save their lives when a house-sized crab had burst from shallow waters. Larry had leapt above the monster and the stone-like bone had come down like an avalanche, shattering the thick shell and scattering chitinous shards into the air. Splattering the beast like a bug.

    He couldn''t reminisce about their climb for long, the face of Fritz and his furious eyes flashed before him again.

    "Traitors."

    "Are you okay?" Jane asked, running a hand over the burn scar on her neck and face, then taking it away to rest on her stomach. She did that now when she was worried or stressed, it was a telling habit, but it was better than her biting her nails or pulling at her mousy hair as she used to.

    "Yes," Toby said.

    She stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

    "I have a bad feeling about Fritz," Toby admitted quietly. "He could come for us. But don''t worry. I think I can take him. I''m sure that Ghost Ability has a limit, and I''ve got a lot of knives. That and Tara''s been teaching me some tricks."

    "Is she now?" Jane grumbled, her face scrunching in that pretty, petty way.

    "You know what I mean," Toby said, bumping his shoulder into hers gently.

    They fell silent for a moment, then Jane asked softly, "Do you think he''ll spite us, try and screw us over?"

    "That''s a good question," Larry said, intruding on their conversation. Toby glared at the man, but the brute waited for an answer unconcerned.

    "I think, if he has the chance to, he will," Toby relented.

    "That''s no good. No good at all," Larry said. "Why''d you beg us not to fight then? Coulda'' been rid of the bastard. Can''t be out of love for that sneering prick."

    "I had a bad feeling about it, and I don''t think you should be swinging your club around on this kind of Floor. What with all the flooding," Toby hedged, though he suspected the real reason was that he had some lingering affection for Bert, he valued that friendship and had mourned its loss. Once his death had become real, on the outside, he and Jane had cried in each other''s arms when they had finally finished their ''interview'' and had been left alone.

    And now, Bert had come back, as healthy, as easygoing, as forgiving as ever. If only they had waited before attempting the Mer spire. Asked for a week or two of rest. Maybe Bert could have joined them. But the Nightshark had plans, and the opportunity they offered had a brief window, one that he couldn''t let close on him.

    "And Bert''s a good sort, he''ll curb the worst of Fritz''s fury," Jane said, interrupting his thoughts.

    "Or encourage it," Toby muttered. If Bert was one thing it was fickle, as likely to change his mind and his morals to suit him as the wind was to change courses. But he could also be stubborn about his crew or a mad plan, and triply so when it came to Fritz. It was a bad combination, he was like a tornado, or a typhoon... a love-typhoon.

    Toby stifled a sudden snort, and only just stopped himself from smirking at the recollection of a time before they had been tested by the Spire. A time when their crew had been whole.

    "That so," Larry mused, thankfully not hearing his comment or noticing his now bitter grimace.

    "Yeah, Bert loves a good fight, but not to the death," Jane explained, rubbing her scar again. "Not against people at least."

    "Hmm," Larry hummed. "Makes me want to test him, might be a good fit for my enforcers."

    "For what it''s worth, I also had a bad feeling about striking them right there," Jasper said, also rudely entering the conversation.

    "His voice was scary. I really believed he was a ghost for a moment," Tara said, piling in. "Was that an Ability?"

    Toby shrugged, unwilling to admit he had also thought the man was a vengeful revenant for a moment, before his Sanguine Sight had shown him the red glow of still flowing blood in the man''s veins, like a vivid, scarlet knot of pulsing roots. That and, he didn''t know what that strange power had been, or just how high Fritz had Climbed. No further than the sixth. Probably.

    "Do you two know what powers he has?" Larry asked.

    "Only his first two Abilities," Jane said, eager to divulge what she could to impress this new crew. It was the smart choice, a survivor''s choice. A traitor''s choice. "Trap Sense and Stone Pit."

    "Trap Sense is not bad at all, but fairly useless in a fight. Stone pit digs a hole I''m assuming?" Tara clarified.

    Jane nodded. "It has some uses, a tricky ability."

    "What about Bert?" Larry continued.

    This caused Jane to pause, unsure about spilling those secrets. No matter he''d do it for her. If you''re already in the boat you should row.

    "Concussive Blow and Tough Skin," Toby provided.

    "And how far do you think they Climbed the Sunken Spire?" Larry asked.

    "They''re Pathers, at least," Toby said uncertainly.

    "Sixth at most," Jane said surely. "Can''t see them going higher than that with only two of them. The spite would be too much."

    "So level thirteen at most, and Bert will be the Defender and the other will be the Scout," Larry summarised.

    "Yes," Jane nodded.

    "Won''t be a problem then, with all us level twenties," Tara said, returning a spinning, silver dagger to its sheath with a soft, satisfying thud.

    Jasper nodded at that, then seemed to sense something and glanced around. He glared into the shadows. Toby also looked but whatever had caught the mage-scout''s attention eluded his sight, though he thought he saw a faint pulse of red before it vanished. Jasper rubbed his brow and muttered something about chaotic currents, he rolled his shoulders, then relaxed them with a shrug.

    Toby was about to mention what he saw when he was rudely interrupted, again.

    "The rest looked like new Climbers," Fred said joining in the talk, just as it was beginning to lull. Arsehole. "Most of them Strikers."

    "Amateurs," Larry spat.

    Toby wanted to call them out, tell them that they were no different, worse even, using their Defenders as bait and losing them one by one on the past Floor. Those Defenders were hopefuls, men and women newly tolled, only rich enough to scrape together the one gold levy and some decent gear, but nowhere near enough for a guide. They''d lost some of their friends on the way but were determined to reach the top, set on a Golden climb. A fool''s hope.

    They''d have been better off leaving on the sixth where Larry had found them. Far better off fleeing and returning, more prepared and more practised with their Powers. They should have settled on a future Silver Climb. It would have been better than the fate they suffered. Larry himself crushed the last Defender''s skull when the spite had set in.

    Toby couldn''t remember her last expression, he hadn''t looked.

    "It was better than leaving them behind," Larry had said while salvaging, stealing, her gear. "This way nothing goes to waste. Would''ve been a drain on our supplies and speed with that broken ankle."

    He said it so offhandedly, so blithely, as if it hadn''t been Larry''s ''clumsy'' strike that had harmed her so. And no one had said anything. This team had merely nodded along. The veterans were obviously used to this, while he and Jane simply didn''t want to be next.

    "What''s got you so gloomy, Toby," Fred asked, bringing him from his thoughts.

    "Nothing," Toby said.

    "That''s just how he is" Tara laughed. "It''s cute. In a sad puppy kind of way," she added with a wink.

    Jane scowled, and slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers and gripping hard. Tara laughed and blew them a kiss.

    "That''s enough of that, back to business. And the battle plan, if things come to a head," Larry said. And from what Toby knew of the man, that ''if'' was a ''when''.

    "Tara, Toby, you hunt the back lines as usual. You don''t have to kill the two girls, holding them hostage will force a quick surrender," Larry continued. "Jane stand back and support where you can, a Water Bolt here or there won''t hurt seeings you have Lifewell, just don''t tire yourself too much. Jasper, Gust the one with the flail to separate them from the team. Then keep them back with your Air Bolts and watch out for the Scout with your winds. Me and Fred will strike down the middle, we''ll crush Bert and the armoured lad. Any questions?"

    "Are we killing them?" Fred asked casually.

    "Try to keep the girls, and Bert, alive," Larry said.

    "Always with the soft spot for women," Tara said, rolling her eyes.

    "What can I say, I''ve got a good heart," Larry said with a genuine, if brutish, smile. "And you of all people should be thankful for that. You''d be mulch floating down a gutter without my mercy."

    That made Tara snort derisively, though she didn''t contradict him.

    "And make sure you use your Treasures, that means Activate the Protective Dome and barrier rings. I don''t care about the cost. Whatever they''re carrying will pay for it," Larry added.

    And there it was. Larry suspected them of carrying something good, and now that he had better view of their relative strength there was no way he wouldn''t attempt to rob them.

    "We''ll jump them by the vault. And if they haven''t found a key they''ll be trapped with their backs to the door. It''ll be like pulpin'' skulg in a barrel," Larry grinned, patting a pocket that had the thick outline of a key pressing out of it.

    Again, no one argued. It was better for the others to die than him and Jane. The course was set, they were in the boat. And all he could do was row.

    Toby didn''t like it, but he nodded.

    ---

    Fritz slipped backwards, away from the still-talking voices. His heartbeat pulsed in his ears and fury bubbled within. He knew it, he knew he couldn''t trust them. They''d spilled his and Bert''s secrets, and agreed to ambush them and steal their things. Oh, and kill him, but he supposed he was used to that.

    It took Fritz some effort to stop himself from turning around and trying to plunge his bone dagger into their backs. But he knew that he''d get caught, and he''d be alone. A suicidal plan, so one he wouldn''t consider. He could possibly wait around, follow someone as they left their camp to relieve themselves. But, again, he didn''t want to be lurking around for so long, it only increased the risk he could get found. Like he almost had been by that wind-mage with the staff.

    Fritz turned the twisting maze of displays to his advantage, absently searching while his head cooled and his rage turned cold. No sign of a key yet, save the one Larry seemingly held, and what he dreaded that it might be the only one. Though he did mention ''a'' key not ''the'' key, so he held out some hope that there were more secreted away.

    He dearly wished that it wasn''t hidden on the webbed floor, which he had passed by so as to make the best of the time he had left to explore. It''s dusty depths were frustrating to cross, and impossible to hack through without leaving a trail. He did, however, theorise that there had to be a map on one of these floors, some clue to the keys'' location. It was usually the way of things. Floors couldn''t be impossible. Deadly, sure, but not impossible.

    Finding himself at a crossroads, Fritz felt a pull to the left. With no better hints at hand, he followed the intuition. Soon he was faced with one of the outer walls and he glanced up at a large stone mosaic. Some sections of its tiny tiles were missing, but on its grimy surface were the obvious lines of a map. On it, right on the eastern edge of the floor plan of the fifth floor, the webbed floor, was a small, secret room marked by the symbol of a key.

    Fritz sighed.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 49

    The longer Fritz searched the mosaic map, the more he worried. There wasn''t just one key room, from what he could make out there was one on each of the five floors below the sixth. His intuition had been right on the number of floors, though not his team''s position. It seemed they had come in between the second and third floor rather than between the first and second. The previous team must have been here for some time to have searched the bottom already. Or perhaps that area had very little in the way of obvious Treasures of materials and required far less time to loot.

    Either way, the other crew had a substantial lead in knowledge and keys, and his team was stuck in front of the steel doors of the ''vault''. Fritz did what he could to memorise the map, and felt a sudden breeze sweep past him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he had the keen impression he''d been discovered. He assumed that Larry''s crew was moving, and whatever air sense Ability their wind-mage employed was active again.

    Fritz wasn''t keen on being caught alone, and he had the distinct sense that his Cloak of Dusk wouldn''t work well against the searching caress of the magical wind. Taking one last glance of the map, he stealthily sped his way to the stairs and the webbed floor above. While he quietly ran he could hear the thudding steps of the other crew. Luckily, it seemed they weren''t actively hunting him but rather making their way towards the stairs just as he was. Though they were moving at a slower pace, for which he was thankful, it would give him time to warn his team and prepare them for the inevitable fight.

    He strode through the double doors and to the stairs, he considered for a moment whether to close the doors behind him, but pragmatism won out. It would take too much time to lever the bar into place and would likely alert Larry and the others to the fact that Fritz knew them to be foes. If they had to fight he wanted them to be as confident, and therefore as careless, as possible. That way his counter-assault, or ambush, would be all the more devastating.

    Slinking through the dust and webs, Fritz recalled what he could of the map and set off to find the secret room and its hidden key somewhere along the eastern wall. Unfortunately, his passage through the ancient archive would be obvious, he had to slice his way through the thick sheets of dry threads leaving a cut path in his wake. There was nothing to be done for it, so he abandoned stealth and, with Quicksilver''s razor edge, hacked his way down the passages, kicking up clouds of dust.

    Soon Fritz came to the wall where he suspected the hidden room to be, it was lined with bookcases filled with cracked leather-bound tomes. He pulsed his Awareness again and again as he walked beside them until he felt a small resonance from behind a particularly worn bookcase. The shelves were laden with small, lumpy figurines of what he could only assume were frogs or an approximation thereof. One in particular caught his eye, the misshapen rock was veined with some precious blue stone. He seized it gently and found it was stuck to the shelf it lay upon. He pulled it towards himself like a lever and from behind the bookcase was a click, then the whole bookcase swung backwards, opening silently on well-oiled hinges.

    Fritz peered into the cobwebbed-laced opening and again he pulsed his Awareness. He was glad he did, his Trap Sense trilled and he noticed a thin steel wire that was suspended around shin height, hidden among the harmless webs. Fritz stepped over the tripwire and into the small room beyond, finding only bare stone walls and an old desk of dry wood. Quickly, he opened the drawers, searching for the key that was meant to be there. He let out a sigh of relief when he found the blocky steel key in the second drawer.

    Fritz snatched it up without hesitation, sliding the cold, solid metal into his shirt''s front pocket under his armour. It had a reassuring weight to it. He then checked the last drawers for anything valuable. There was nothing but dust and decayed journals, unreadable and unremarkable. As he turned to leave the floor shuddered, this tremor far more powerful than any of those before it. Fritz''s gut lurched and he felt his Trap Sense react, a dull trilling in a slow, sharp rhythm, beating like a heart. A blanket of dread fell over him along with the sense that the Archives had begun to sink in earnest.

    He had to get moving.

    He sprinted to where he knew his team to be, gathered before the tall, steel vault doors. Fritz rushed this way and that, dashing and slashing the most direct route. He leant into his grace to slide around corners without tripping and leveraged every once of Strength to push him forward. It was in moments like this that he thanked his past self for aligning nine points to each of his physical Attributes.

    Soon he found his team''s previous path and after six minutes of running flat out, he slowed to a jog, entering his team''s lantern light. He panted, sweat and was absolutely coated in dust and hanging webs.

    "Fritz, that you under all that dust?" Bert said, lowering his fists.

    Fritz coughed but gave a thumbs up, then he pulled away the sash of sirensilk he''d been using to cover his mouth and catch the flying dust. He shook it out then motioned for his team to make way while slipping the steel key out from his pocket and into the lock.

    It fit in with a satisfying clunk and he turned it. With a dull clank and a small tremor from behind the thick steel, the doors ground open. Fritz, pulsed his Awareness then after feeling nothing, ushered his team through the still-opening gap.

    "You four go ahead. Lauren, come with me," Fritz wheezed, gripping her wrist so she didn''t lose him in the dark. "Bert keep a look out."

    Bert looked at him suspiciously but nodded slowly.

    "What? Where are we going?" She asked as he pulled her gently along into the darkness.

    He led her until they stood before a particularly dense nest of webs and dead spiders and waited, watched, for the telltale light of glowstones and mana lanterns. He easily spotted the brightness and the shadows it cast on the roof, it was still far away but slowly creeping towards the vault doors.

    "Burn them," Fritz ordered.

    "What?" Lauren asked as if she hadn''t heard him clearly.

    "The webs. Burn them," Fritz repeated.

    "That will set off the whole room, didn''t you say something about a dust explosion?"

    "I did. Do it," Fritz said coldly.

    She looked to the light, realising that the enemy team were still walking through the maze of grey sheets and threads. Lauren hesitated. Fritz stared at her.

    They locked gazes for a heartbeat, embers danced lazily in her eyes. She turned away, faced the ancient archive and breathed in. Lauren pulled down the siren silk around her mouth and blew. A great heat bloomed, a torrent of orange fire splashed over the bundled webs. They caught alight in an instant, and suddenly Fritz felt they were far too close to the oncoming devastation.

    Danger Sense warned him, and he activated his barrier ring, it dulled the roar and thunder of the spreading conflagration.

    "Use your barrier!" Fritz yelled, and she quickly complied, cutting off her fire breath while her body was encompassed in a second skin of rushing water.

    Fritz was about to order her to run when a mighty boom sounded from the inferno, and he was thrown from his feet as he was sent soaring. His barrier broke, and he reactivated it mid-air as he hurtled towards the vault door. He slammed into the stone wall next to it, the second protective bubble cushioning his impact and letting him fall to the floor without any bones broken.

    Fritz staggered to his feet, grimacing at the slight sting of light burns down the right side of his face.

    Lauren had also been blown away by the explosion, though she hit the door itself before falling. She gingerly got to her feet and looked to have fared much better than Fritz himself, her ring''s Imbuement was seemingly far more suited to absorbing the intense heat and brutal force. He limped over to where she stood transfixed at the destruction she had wrought, the wave of fire spread, consuming all before it. Ash and embers floated to the ceiling, all was burning save a distant dome of clear, swirling air that soon spun into a tornado of roiling flame.

    Fritz cursed, it had been too much to ask to kill all the bastards in one fell swoop. He turned away, the heat was steadily rising, the air was getting hot enough they might be cooked like squid pies in a stone oven. He slipped an elbow around Lauren''s own and dragged her through the vault door with him. When they were through he was met with a furious glare, not from Lauren but from Bert.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    He was livid. Amber eyes gleamed darkly, reflected flames flickering over them. Bert turned and signalled sharply for Fritz to follow him up the stairs.

    "Close the door," Fritz ordered the rest of the team, striding to catch up to Bert. He knew his friend would be angry, but now he suspected that he had misjudged just how mad he''d made him. Small streams of roiling fury emanated from around Bert''s shoulders like a haze of transparent steam. Internally, Fritz winced.

    This might be a rough conversation.

    When they were far enough to talk without eavesdroppers, Bert spun and seized Fritz by his collar. He didn''t attempt to dodge and his Danger Sense was silent even as Bert''s eyes bore into his own.

    "What was that!?" Bert growled. "You said you''d let it lie. Then you went and murdered them?"

    "I did let it lie," Fritz protested, making no attempt to escape. "I chanced upon them whilst searching for the key."

    "Chanced upon them? Don''t give me that, you sought them out to spy on them," Bert stated.

    Fritz scoffed at the all-too-true accusation and continued his tale.

    "I heard them plan an ambush, they were going to rob and murder us."

    "What?" Bert said sharply.

    "Exactly what I said. Larry asked Toby and Jane what powers we had, and those two told them everything they knew."

    Bert stared into his eyes searching for any deceit, then he scowled. Fritz could see the stream of emotions twist subtly from boiling rage into bitter disappointment.

    "Damn," Bert sighed, letting go of Fritz''s shirt, then sweeping his hand through his mop of blonde hair. "That didn''t mean you had to resort to murder so quickly. Without even talking to the team. Without asking me."

    Fritz felt a pang of guilt and a sharper sense of regret. Bert was right, he should have warned him first, he more than deserved it. He had been rash in his actions, going so far as to use Lauren''s Ability to enact his assault and not considering it would be her hands also that would be bloodied by the action. It was on his orders, but that might not matter when she would have to wrestle with what she had done.

    "If it makes you feel any better they had some kind of protection. And I''m sure some of them survived if not all of them," Fritz said with a sigh.

    "It does, and it doesn''t. And you also tipped them off that we know they''re coming," Bert said. "Coulda'' feigned ignorance, have a chance to turn the ambush on its head with a solid scheme."

    "That''s true, I just saw the opportunity to take them out in one sudden blow. Without having to see their faces. And I took it," Fritz admitted, he left unsaid his desire for not wanting to burden Bert. He tried to spare his friend from having to fight and potentially kill his former crew. He could bear that all himself, he was the Captain after all.

    "We had the time and I should have talked to you first," he added earnestly.

    Bert nodded. "That''s right. Now you''re getting it through your skulg-shell skull. I shouldn''t have to remind you we''re in this together."

    "Again, you''re right," Fritz said with a small smile. "I''m glad you''re with me."

    Bert grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. "Me too."

    "So what do we do?" Fritz asked. "About our ambush problem."

    "I don''t know," Bert proudly proclaimed. "Thankfully, we have a whole team of idiots who might have some ideas."

    "True as the rain," Fritz agreed. "Let''s get back to them then, and ply them for any insights they may have."

    With that, they strode right back down the stairs with almost identical smug smiles.

    Rosie noticed them first and nudged Cal, who looked at them with some trepidation.

    "Why does it look like you''ve got some mad plan?" He asked.

    "We have no such designs, it time for you lot to show some initiative, cunning and guile," Fritz stated pompously. "Unfortunately, from what I saw the other team survived my small trick. They''re maybe a little worse for wear but likely still healthy, and even more likely to be angry."

    Lauren sighed quietly, seemingly she had been struggling somewhat with what she''d done.

    "And why did you want me to incinerate them?" She asked.

    "They had planned to ambush us, to rob us, to kill Cal, George and I," Fritz explained, then rapidly briefed them on what he had heard.

    When he was done explaining the whole team was scowling and Lauren seemed to have little regret left for trying to burn them all. The fact that they wanted to keep only the ladies, and Bert, alive had led them to some dark conclusions, and Fritz didn''t bother to correct them.

    "Bastards," Rosie muttered.

    "Thugs and ruffians," Lauren agreed.

    "Hey now, some of us are proud thugs and regal ruffians and would never do such things," Fritz said.

    Lauren merely rolled her eyes at him, she really was getting rather familiar with them, soon she''d be as coarse and cynical as they were. Or maybe not, conventions and politeness fell away with this group due to it lacking a true formal structure and her proprietary would likely return on the outside. He''d been trying to lead them as he would a crew of thieves and found it to work as well as may be expected, which is to say, well enough.

    Somewhere down the line, he might have to look into real styles of Captain-ship, but for now, he seemed to be doing fine, except for a couple of small instances with Cal. Fritz shook himself from his thoughts, he was getting ahead of himself.

    "Any ideas?" Fritz asked. "Anything that would keep us from having to fight them? I have little doubt we''d win. Though they might have some surprises, and my conscience couldn''t bear the thought of you suffering from the mistake of misjudging their strength," he added confidently.

    Fritz, of course, had many doubts about their capacity to fight them evenly. He didn''t fear this group like he had done the raider, whose enormous strength and skill eclipsed them in every way, and who had both exotic Abilities and Techniques from far away Spires. No, this group posed a different threat, a lesser one, but still not to be overlooked. They were survivors, just as he and Bert were. Willing to take any means to victory.

    "Wish this door could be barred like the others, but it only has a lock," George observed.

    "Unless we can find something heavy to put in front of it I don''t think we''ll be keeping it closed," Fritz said. "They also had a key."

    "Why were there two keys? That seems odd for a vault," Lauren said.

    "There were more than two actually, one on each of the floors before us," Fritz explained.

    "Very odd," Lauren said thoughtfully.

    "Yes. Though so is this whole Floor," Fritz said waving away the small worry that crept into her face and his gut. "Any other ideas?"

    "Sleeping gas?" Cal suggested.

    "They have a wind mage, gas won''t be much use," Fritz pointed out.

    "Caltrops and poisons?" Cal proposed.

    "We can do that," Fritz said.

    "We can ruin the hinges, or block the doors from opening, fill the lock with molten metal," George said thoughtfully.

    "My flames did nothing to the steel," Lauren said. "I can''t harm the hinges."

    "Think you could melt one of these daggers into the lock?" Fritz said, handing her one of the raider''s spares.

    "I''ll try," she hedged.

    "Don''t bother, you''d need a furnace and more time to melt the iron of that blade," George said.

    "As for hinges, leave that to me and my acid," Bert boasted.

    Suddenly the floor shook, again. They all looked to one another, the same nervousness etched on each of their faces.

    "Quickly then!" Fritz commanded.

    "Give me space," Bert said, raising a palm and pointing it at one of the door''s solid hinges. Fritz and the others rapidly retreated up the stairs watching intently. With a hiss, misty liquid spouted from Bert''s outstretched hand and soaked the metal. The fluid foamed and sizzled on contact and within moments the hinge was caked in a thin coat of rust.

    "Again," Bert cried, spraying down the same spot, further encrusting the hinge in rust. He looked over his handiwork and nodded in satisfaction before blasting the upper hinge on the other side in similar fashion.

    "Those hinges aren''t moving easily any more," Bert said. "Better get the lock too, just in case," he added as if to himself.

    Another hiss, but also a cry of shock from Bert as his acid was forcefully spit out by some magical protection the keyhole possessed.

    "Ouch!" He yelled, shaking his hand and glaring at where the returned acid had splattered him.

    "Right," Fritz said, "Cal drop what''s left of the caltrops."

    "Not going to poison them?" Cal asked as the Floor shuddered under their feet. This time however the tremors didn''t subside completely. Instead, Fritz could feel a dull vibration from all around.

    "No time," Fritz declared. "Bert come on, we''ve done what we can."

    Bert ran up to where they were and together they fled up the stairs.

    "Wonder what''s in the next room," Rosie said taking the stairs two at a time. "Must be good seeings as it''s called a vault."

    "It''ll be all the most shiny stuff," Bert predicted.

    "Filled with old books more like," Cal bemoaned, emptying the sack of their very last caltrops down the stairs. They clinked off the stone like dropped cutlery.

    "Get your packs ready, grab anything that looks valuable," Fritz ordered, anticipation warring with greedy excitement in his chest.

    They crested the top of the stairway and found themselves in a large room, though it was far smaller than the labyrinthine floors before and far more organised. It had a glass-domed roof, through which Fritz could see a black ocean filled with glowing specs of blue and pink light. He could see that the bright pinpricks were some kind of luminescent jellyfish, floating like stars in a moonless night and filling the room with an ethereal light.

    "Wow, look at the sky," Lauren breathed.

    "Whoa, look at the gold!" Bert blurted.

    Fritz tore his eyes from the ceiling and looked to where Bert was pointing.

    What he saw shocked him. There, in the centre of the room was a nine-foot-tall cage with bars made of gold, within were a small section of bookcases and a smattering of richly carved tables and chairs. Surrounding the walls of this room were gilded bookcases and extravagant displays of all kinds. Shelves were stacked with vibrant, well-preserved, leather tomes, while plinths were presenting all manner of precious artefacts. Even the floor was covered in a thick burgundy carpet that only accentuated the appearance of abundant wealth.

    Across and opposite where he stood, Fritz could feel the Stairway up, it was barely a hundred yards away. No longer was the shrouding strong enough, or the Door far enough away, to escape his pulses of Awareness. Still, he didn''t sigh in relief just yet, his Door Sense was picking up something troubling, something he had to check.

    "I can''t sense any traps. Start looting," Fritz ordered, though he didn''t really need to as the team had started salivating while looking over the opulence of the archive vault and were soon running this way and that to various things that had caught their sight.

    Fritz didn''t get lost in his avaricious ambitions and instead searched for their way out, that feeling that something was wrong with the Stairway out steadily intensifying as he drew closer. Within a minute he was standing before the Stairway, hidden behind another set of thick steel vault doors.

    A heavy weight draped around his shoulders as he took in the terrible truth of the way out. Where the previous set of doors had one keyhole, one lock, this set had two.

    "We need another key."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 50

    "That''s not fair! We got here late and we still need two keys!" Bert yelled. A predictable reaction if a little more exaggerated than the rest of the team, which Fritz had gathered, having halted their frantic looting.

    When he had interrupted them, Lauren had been looking for a way to drop the barriers while George and Cal had taken to prying off the gold gilding on many of the plinths. Bert and Rosie had been trying to break the glass cases, and when that hadn''t worked they had turned their attention to the huge cage, which was just as indestructible if not more so.

    "When have the Spires ever been fair," Fritz espoused bitterly. "They set the trials, and you pass or you die."

    "So where do we get another key?" Lauren asked.

    "The key will come to us," Fritz announced arrogantly, then changed his tone to something more sober. "The other team will have one."

    His crew shuffled uncomfortably, looking to each other and waiting for someone to object to the murderous implication.

    "Now, I know what you''re thinking," Fritz began, trying to assuage their anxieties and comfort their consciences. "The raider was bad enough, but fighting a full team of thugs, some of which are Climber veterans, would be a death sentence."

    Fritz took a moment to let his words set in while he searched their faces. When he saw he had hit near the mark, he continued, "It is not so. These blackguards won''t be higher than level twenty, save perhaps Larry. They''ll be nothing like a Journeyman from Krakos with exotic Powers gained from the Spires of the Countless Isles. They''re weaker by far and thrice as ignorant."

    "I don''t like the idea of hurting fellow Climbers, again," Lauren said sourly. "Though you have said that they''re coming for us one way or another, and I for one won''t suffer, or let anyone in this team suffer, any indignities at their hands."

    "Well said, Lauren, I could have hardly put it better myself," Fritz said.

    George sighed resignedly, "Who knew that the monsters and traps would be the easy part of Climbing."

    "Don''t let it shake your faith in mankind too much," Bert said. "We''ve just been unlucky."

    "True as the rain," Fritz said, then muttered quietly, "unlucky my entire life."

    "You gotta do what you gotta do, and I won''t let them rob me," Rosie declared, her eyes as hard as flint.

    "Same here," Cal agreed, his own expression just as grim.

    Again the richly decorated chamber shook.

    "How''s the treasure on this floor?" Fritz asked.

    "Terrible," Rosie spat.

    "That bad?" Fritz asked, somewhat surprised.

    "Yes, all the books are behind invisible barriers, the cage bars are only plated gold, and all the displays are encased in glass," Lauren provided.

    "Tough glass, likely the same kind as the roof. My blade did nothing," George added dejectedly.

    "I only manage to crack one with Concussive Blow," Bert supplied with a smug smile at George, who took the taunting gesture gracefully, smiling back himself. "I would have kept pounding on it but I held back. I need to preserve my Stamina after spraying so many times."

    "Disgusting," Lauren scolded, while Cal choked down a laugh.

    "A wise choice. We''ll need you at full strength to fight our foes, your job will be tying up Larry," Fritz explained. "As for the rest of you, well, let''s go through the plan. We''ll get back to looting, if we have the time."

    ---

    Larry trudged through the ash, boots thudding and parting piles of still-hot soot. The room had gone up in flames only minutes after they had stepped into its webbed passages. Nothing of that maze was left, all was blackened or burned away along with any riches that may have been found.

    "Those backstabbing bastards," Larry said, spitting to the side as a tendril of smoke slipped through Jasper''s wind dome.

    "They''re dead, every single one of them," Tara fumed. "Especially that fire-breathing bitch."

    Larry had never seen the woman so angry. But she had good reason to be. Her left arm all the way up to her elbow was wrapped in runed bandages. And although Jane had done what she could with her healing magic and soothing grease, the woman''s hand and forearm would be a mess of burn scars. Much like Jane''s face and neck, but worse. At least the Healer''s power leant some amount of pain dulling, otherwise, Tara would be whining far more.

    She wasn''t the only one to suffer from the sudden inferno, Fred lost all the hair on his left side as well as his ear, and Larry himself lost his eyebrows and suffered some minor singing. Only Jasper''s quick activation of both his staff''s Dome of Protection and his wind Abilities had saved them from being incinerated. Larry might have been alright, his Tough Skin, Durability and Grit would have seen him through. Bruised, battered, seared for sure, but not broken, his steel-laced bones could endure.

    "I shook his hand and he took my ear, I''ll kill him," Fred growled, his friendly demeanour abandoned and his Liar''s Face inactive.

    "Look, it''s not worth it," Toby explained exasperatedly. "The man''s as wily as a stinging eel, nothing good has ever come from chasing him."

    "Or crossing him," Jane muttered darkly, her mounting regret obvious on her face.

    "That so," Larry said, stiltedly.

    "It is," Toby said sourly.

    Normally Larry wouldn''t have carried such cowardly Climbers, but the Nightshark had ordered him to. It turned out the girl was a Healer, a rare and precious thing in Rain City. And she and her man were inseparable, so he''d been forced to bring him too, up this Rookie Spire to get their Gold Awards and Powers.

    And it wasn''t like Toby was a bad blade, he was ''fine'', according to Tara who was a good judge of such things. But the man''s moods were dark, and he had that shifty look you couldn''t trust. Larry shrugged inwardly, everyone in the crew had that look, except Fred, and that was only because of that damn Trait.

    It chafed to be babysitting like this, but what the Nightshark wanted, they got. And Nic, the lazy bastard, had named him to do this task instead.

    "There are doors ahead," Jasper predicted. "Not wood."

    Soon they were in front of some tall steel doors and Larry pulled the matching key from his pocket. He was glad they took the time to find the hidden room. Without Jasper''s insistence that they find it, they may have been locked out. He stared at the thick metal and concluded his Borer-bone Club could definitely batter down the doors with a couple of strikes, but he may as well use the key. No use wasting the Treasure''s mana, or accidentally collapsing the stone frame and maybe flooding them all.

    The key slid in with a satisfying thunk and he turned it easily. The mechanism behind the metal clunked, and Larry pushed on the door with one hand, expecting it to open as easily as all the others. He was proved wrong, the steel was solidly stuck in place. Larry pushed harder, leveraging more of his Strength and Momentum. He could hear hinges creaking, groaning, as he applied more and more force.

    "What''s wrong," Jane asked.

    "The arseholes messed with the doors," Larry spat. "Fred, help would ya."

    Fred stepped forward and leant his Strength and Might to the effort. Slowly the doors ground open, creaking and cracking the whole while. Another shudder shook the floor, and Larry activated Crushing Blow, driving the magical force into a punch that beat the door open another inch. Even though he was striking with bare knuckles he felt no pain, just a heavy resistance.

    "Watch it," Fred whined. "You almost got me."

    Larry ignored the man and slammed the door again. With a clang and a screech, the door swung back, whatever was gluing up the hinges finally giving way to brute strength.

    "There we go," Larry said leading the way through the door. "Just needed a bit of elbow grease."

    "Almost got me again, prick," Fred grumbled.

    "What was that?"

    "Nothing, good work captain," Fred said with a cheery smile. Larry nodded.

    Fred is a good lad there''s no way he''d call me a prick. Must have misheard.

    "Alright, let''s get through this. And be on your guard. They''ve broken the agreement, so there''s no trustin'' them," Larry reminded his crew. "Kill them outright if you have to."

    "Really? Even the girls?" Fred asked and his smile faltered.

    "Yep, even the girls," Larry said. It was all well and good to keep them alive before, but now they''d acted against him and his crew he had no use for them.

    "Good," Tara hissed, readying one of her daggers in her good hand.

    "What''s up ahead, Jasper?" Larry asked.

    "Stairs up into a room, not as large as the previous one, there are people within," Jasper said, almost dreamily. "They are scurrying about. Maybe looting? It''s very... chaotic."

    "Not waiting to ambush us?" Toby asked.

    Jasper nodded. "Not waiting."

    Toby frowned and glanced at his woman, who scowled, whispered and shook her head slightly.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "Got something to add?" Larry asked the pair.

    "No," Toby stated in that sad tone.

    "Nothin''" Jane added.

    Larry stared at them, but just as Jane was about to speak Tara let out a yelp.

    "Bastards!" She cried stepping off the stairs, sitting on the stone and prying a piece of metal from her boot. "Stupid thing went right through."

    "I told you that you should wear heavier boots," Fred said.

    "And I told you to shove your opinion up your arse, where it belongs," Tara said scathingly.

    Fred was about to retort when Larry put an end to the talk. "Stop. We''re going up quiet like, and that means silence. You can fight once we''ve dealt with the others and we''re in the safety of the Well Room. Jasper, is it close?"

    "I can''t say, but the map suggested this was the last floor, so it can''t be that far," the man responded.

    "Then let''s go show these bastards what messing with us gets them," Larry growled, and his team nodded, following up the stairs.

    ---

    Fritz and his team were in position around the entrance, hiding behind the various bookcases and plinths only thirty feet away. They were only able to spend ten minutes looting before he had sensed their foes and had to take their places and enact his plan. Though he felt they had been lucky with their finds.

    "This is stupid," Rosie muttered, as she and Bert continuously waved makeshift fans of siren silk in wide arcs, stirring up the wind.

    "Shh," Fritz hissed from his place behind a stone pedestal that held a precious piece of pottery behind a dome of glass.

    He tapped nervously on the bow in his hand and made sure to be careful with the arrow he held, especially its venom-slick head. Periodically he would pulse his Awareness, but he was relying more on his ears, he heard the clang and the clunk of the door below and soon a stifled cry of pain. Someone had found the caltrops.

    Fritz waited for a moment before signalling that their foes were close, and when he did Rosie and Bert dropped their fans and took cover, slipping into the hidden formation. They watched the stairway, ready to spring their ambush.

    Larry crested the stairs first, all grim confidence and stony fury, the great bone-club held before him in both hands. The bulky, grey weapon was nearly as big as the man himself, and blocked any clear angle for an arrow to speed through.

    Fred was the next one up, behind and to the left of Larry. He still had that confident, friendly smile, even though his face had been burned, and he held his single-handed hammer loosely. His other hand was empty, but his forearm was armoured with an inscribed bracer of some dull grey metal. Apart from that they were both armoured as they had been, Larry with the leather and breastplate and Fred with the muddy scales.

    Neither would be a good target. He had to wait until someone far less durable came into view. Fritz didn''t have to wait long, as the two front liners strode forward Jasper cleared the stairs and peered around with a bland stare. If they could take him out first this entire fight would be far easier.

    The Scout-mage took only a few steps forward before halting and saying, "Stop. There''s something wrong."

    Fritz took his chance, he activated his Gloom Strike, bent the bow while pouring in the shifting shadows into the arrow he nocked, then loosed it at the wind-mage. The shadowed shaft sped through the air, unnoticed and whistling as it sought his foe. Fritz''s aim was off, he was no great archer, but it still struck Jasper in his thigh and he let out a yell of pain.

    Immediately, the air mage wrapped himself in some kind of shield that enclosed him in a bubble of spinning wind. He then reached for a pouch at his side, grasping for some potion. Quickly Fritz pulled another envenomed arrow from the quiver, nocked it and loosed, this time the arrow met the shifting winds and was flung away harmlessly. Unfortunately, that was all the attention Fritz had to spare for the man, from the corner of his eye a dark shape darted from shadow to shadow, seeking to slip around to the back of his team.

    Another figure, this one blurry and indistinct, leapt over and past Larry and Fred. It looked like they were made of a multicoloured mist, translucent and in the dull hues of their gear. They headed straight for where Lauren lay in wait. Fritz saw a hint of violet in that human-shaped cloud and concluded it must be the dagger-wielding woman.

    Lastly, he saw Jane lurking in the arch of the entrance, staying back and out of danger, worry writ plain on her scarred face.

    Fritz felt a dagger enter his throat and his heart, one after the other with barely a moment between. He rolled away from his sudden attacker, Toby, whose daggers slashed through the space he''d just been in. Fritz activated and swung his bow like a staff, its, now black metal, limb cracked against Toby''s leg with a bone-jarring force and the man fell to a knee with a grunt.

    "Come and get me!" Larry roared, and Fritz felt his gaze be pulled to the brutish man.

    Fury welled up in his gut, and even if the anger felt wrong, false, he couldn''t help but think everything was this man''s fault and that he should rush at him and kill him. For a moment he saw red, and while distracted he ignored the thrown blade that was spinning towards his shoulder. The cold of Umbral Phase washed over him and doused some of his fury, he used that second of intangibility to gather his wits. He pushed at the irrational, intrusive anger, and its coiling grasp broke. He realised he''d been in the grip of some kind of taunting Ability, and his shadowed legs were still striding forward to face the grinning man, leaving his back open to Toby.

    He was not the only one affected, the whole team had rushed from their places, with Bert far in the lead as his blurring form streaked toward Larry with thundering footsteps. The man met him with an all-too-fast swing of the enormous club that, with a terrible crunching, sent Bert soaring, then falling to the red carpet in a tangle of bent and broken limbs.

    As much as Fritz wanted to run to his friend''s side he knew it was the wrong decision, he had to do what he could to defeat his own opponents and trust in his team. Even as he concluded this Bert''s bones began to snap and crack back into place, and the yellow glow of The Amulet of Repose suffused his body.

    Three blossoms of pain sprouted over Fritz''s spine, and he stopped in place and spun, drawing his two blades in a single graceful motion and battering two throwing daggers from the air with ringing clangs. The last he simply slid under as he rushed his foe with a flurry of stabbing strikes. Toby''s own blades were swift and troublesome, catching his blades and diverting them just enough to dodge.

    To Fritz''s dismay, Toby was fast, faster than himself by far, the man must have Aligned a lot to Speed. He also had a tricky style where he would interweave dagger throws and feints while stepping back, then he would lunge forward with straightforward stabs for the eyes, throat and gut before hopping back again and taking a defensive posture.

    While Fritz was saving the remaining half of his mana for the fight to come, Toby wasn''t bothering with such considerations. He constantly used his Abilities, his dual daggers would shine with the blood-red glow of Lacerate or would suddenly be sticky with what looked like the Power of Venom Strike.

    Even though Fritz could see every blow coming, it was difficult to keep up with the man''s blades. Though he still let none of the daggers touch him, they simply couldn''t, not with his Danger Sense warning him and his Grace honing his movement to such an incredible degree. However, he couldn''t dodge every blow, yet, and he was forced to parry. Their blades sparked and clanged as they met, as each sought to gain an advantage.

    They clashed, once twice, then thrice. Fritz found the rhythm, saw right through his former crewmate''s style. Quicksilver caught Toby''s dagger, and with a flick of his wrist, Fritz slipped the long blade around his foe''s defence and towards his heart. It was as close to a perfect riposte as Fritz had ever performed, but it still wasn''t enough to kill. At the last moment, Toby managed to spin slightly, the blade took him in the chest, passing by his most vital organ by an inch and instead piercing a lung.

    Toby spat blood, wheezed and immediately attempted to flee, throwing himself back recklessly and letting Quicksilver''s edge tear through him as he pulled himself off the bloody, black blade. Fritz wouldn''t let him go, not again. He smiled, revelling in his victory and pounced forward, catching up to Toby''s fleeing back and the ridiculous, black cloak he still wore. Mortal Edge sliced right through the fabric and cut a long line of red into his back.

    Toby staggered into the shadow of a plinth and darted away as swift as an arrow in flight into another spot of shade right beside Jane. It had to be some sort of Ability and Fritz couldn''t help but be envious of such a power. Toby fell, clutched at his wounds, and Jane laid her hands upon him. Tears streamed from her eyes as a soft, green-white thread speared through his wounds and sewed them shut.

    Fritz halted his pursuit, caught off guard by a sudden swell of sympathy that caused his spite to sputter. He didn''t have time to dwell on it, there was a high-pitched cry to his side which forced him to turn his attention to the battle around him.

    "Stay away!" Lauren screamed, her water barrier slipping over her form while the knife-wielding woman stabbed downwards with a crystal dagger shimmering with a wavering white luminescence. It parted the seaskin shield like a hot knife through butter, cutting through Lauren''s long sleeve and the skin below with ease.

    Flame bloomed, but the blurry dagger-woman leapt over the fire breath with a startling back flip, landing behind Lauren. Fritz tried to run to them, but he was too far away to help.

    Just as the woman was about to strike again, Rosie was there, Interposed and flailing madly with her shining pick and red-rimmed hatchet. The woman was too quick and her body too indistinct to be hit cleanly, but a chop from the pick glanced off her shoulder and left a bright mark. Around the seal of white light, the woman''s form became clearer and more solid, revealing the bandaged state of her left arm.

    Rosie saw the obvious injury and grinned, she didn''t need to be told how to fight dirty. She targeted all her attacks to that crippled side, suddenly forcing the woman back. Unfortunately, this dagger wielder was a far more practised, skilful, fighter than Rosie, or even Toby, in fact, he recognised some of the man''s new tricks in her style. She was also faster, and more precise, and even wounded as she was, her strikes were deadly and she was on the attack again. Rosie started taking cuts that sliced right through her scales.

    Though it seemed the tide had turned against his two teammates, it didn''t stay that way for long, Lauren spun and turned hateful, tearful, burning eyes on the woman who had cut her. Then stepping out from Rosie''s protection she breathed a torrent of flame. The dagger wielder was caught mid-way through dodging a scarlet-hued pick when the fire engulfed her left side, searing again what had already been seared.

    She screamed in terrible anger and agony, then fled, leaping away as the fire clung to her flesh and smoke coiled from her scorched armour and burning bandages.

    Two down, four to go. Fritz thought as he turned to the desperate fight George, Cal and Bert were embroiled in. His team-mates were already battered, obviously having traded some blows with the foes before them in the seconds he''d been preoccupied.

    Cal charged and swung his flail at Fred, but before he could reach the man, he was sent flying by a sudden gust of wind. He was blown away to the other side of the room where he landed with a distant thud. Bert was on his feet again, contesting his might against Larry, trying to meet another of the powerful swings with his Bull Rush and Concussive Blow and being knocked back again, only for George to step in with his shrieking, shining greatsword.

    The attack was aimed at Larry''s arm but was blocked by the mighty grey bone. Club met sword with a shower of sparks, and George was driven back a whole six feet by the opposing force. Then Fred was on him, striking the armoured man on the back with his hammer. A great boom echoed from the impact, far more than was normally expected and the metal bent inward and seemed to ripple, tolling like a bell. George groaned and staggered forward, almost into another swing of the club, but fell to a knee just in time for it to whoosh over his head.

    Fritz darted forward to help George while Bert attempted another charge. He predicted something would slam into his chest and quickly dodged around Jasper''s wind-bolt. Sprinting now, Fritz closed in on Fred who held his hammer over George''s head and prepared to swing down and collapse the man''s helmet and the skull beneath. Fritz couldn''t let that happen, but he was still too far away.

    Activating Mortal Edge and wrapping it in Gloom Strike''s shade he threw his dagger. This time his aim was true, the curved blade spun end over end through the air, on a collision course for the man''s throat. Only for the man''s bracer to glow with a dim blue light, a round shield of rippling water gushed from the metal, rising up and getting between dagger and neck. The blade sunk into the hovering disc of water, then was washed away like it had merely stabbed the ocean.

    Though the attack didn''t injure it distracted the man. When the bracer had activated it yanked his arm up, throwing off his balance and stopping his strike.

    Mortal Edge fell to the floor, and Fritz kept moving. Fred turned to face Quicksilver, blocking it deftly with his shield made of water, which seemed attached to the bracer. Stabbing that shield was odd, it tried to pull his blade from his grasp and send it tumbling. Luckily, Fritz maintained his grip.

    The hammer came down and his Danger Sense felt the blow land in multiple locations, which was wrong, it should only hit one part of his body and break the bones there. He looked into the man''s face, watched his eyes, trying to predict where the man would strike. He saw a glance at his arm and stepped so it was no longer within Fred''s reach. Though Fritz took no chances and activated his barrier ring just in case. It was good that he did, the hammer came down at a different angle than he had predicted, his earlier guess being proven false.

    He twisted out of the weapon''s path, but was still clipped by the pulsing hammerhead. The boom thundered again, shattering his shield and sending him sprawling. His head struck the cushioned ground and his ears rang while his vision swam. His hands were empty, he must have dropped Quicksilver. Another strike was coming, again he couldn''t tell where he''d actually be hit, Fred must have had some ability that messed with your senses, one that ruined Fritz''s evasive defences.

    Instead of trying to figure it out he went with intuition, relied solely on his Awareness to roll out of harm''s way. Any moment he thought his skull would be crushed, but he fought on through the haze. There was nothing else to do, his Umbral Phase wouldn''t be refreshed in some time. Again he rolled, trying to get to his dagger or his sword. Fred wouldn''t let him, the man was toying with him, keeping him away from both his weapons while raining blows that he had to dodge or he''d be killed.

    Dread built within Fritz, desperately he rolled again, completely at the man''s mercy. He hoped his friends were fairing better against Larry, but from the sounds of it that wasn''t the case. Larry laughed, and bellowed, while Bert yelled back in fury and Rosie was shrieking her battle cry. Metal clashed against stone, bones broke and gusts of powerful wind kept blowing past, repelling thrown rocks and Lauren''s flames.

    All Fritz could do was keep Fred from the other fight, surely they could take down Larry through sheer numbers. Just as he thought so, Fritz rolled over a long, thin stick, his arrow. It snapped under his weight and he snatched it up by instinct.

    Looking around, he saw Larry, who had been surrounded, raise his club. It began to thrum with power, the stone beneath the carpet echoing its drumming pulse. He swung it down at the ground and it crashed into it like a falling mountain. A terrible tremor rocked the entire floor sending Fritz''s whole team to the ground and throwing Bert, Rosie and George like rag-dolls. The glass case nearest the shockwave shattered, a shower of glass rained to the floor with the display''s contents. The fist-sized, glittering, rose-red gem rolling away.

    The wind was driven from Fritz''s lungs and he wasn''t even that close to the impact. Still, the moment gave him an opening as Fred staggered from the enormity of the blow. Fritz lunged, tackling the man about the waist in his moment of distraction, bowling him over and to the floor. The other man was stronger and Fritz let himself be grabbed and tossed bodily, he''d already achieved his aim, having driven the broken arrow into his opponent.

    Fritz rolled backwards, got to his feet, retrieved Quicksilver and retreated. Fred stood groggily with a perplexed expression on his face and a thin shaft stuck in his leg.

    Fleeing, Fritz called out an order, and those of his team still standing heeded his words, disengaging their foes, then trudging to his side. Cal, Rosie, George and Lauren gathered around him, bruised and bloody, then as one they turned to their opponents. Bert lay some distance away, face down and unmoving. There was a momentary lull in the fighting as each side surveyed the battlefield and what was left of the teams glared at each other.

    Larry panted and sweat, his armour was scuffed and his arms shook slightly, likely from the strain of swinging the ungodly heavy club. He saw the losses his team had taken and worry flashed in his eyes.

    "Dome!" Larry yelled.

    A transparent bubble of power burst forth from Jasper''s staff, enclosing the space around him and his team.

    "You got us good, I''ll give you that," Larry panted. "But you''re out of luck, ''cause we came prepared."

    Cal threw a stone, and it bounced harmlessly off the spherical wall. Lauren tested her flames against it, splattering the dome with crackling orange. Soon the fire dissipated, leaving not even a scorch mark.

    Larry laughed, "Won''t come down til I say so." The statement had the ring of truth so Fritz signalled for his team to stand down.

    The brutish man rooted through some belt pouches, pulling out a red and a yellow potion, he drank them down one after the other. Jane helped the burnt woman, pulling, prying really, the charred armour from her skin. She whined piteously and bit down on a strip of leather, writhing in agony. Toby stood gingerly, healed, though with some obvious lingering injury.

    This was a terrible predicament, Fritz had hoped to take them by surprise, and beat them in one fell swoop, but they had only managed to wound half of them. And now they were healing, restoring their Stamina and refreshing Abilities, while his crew looked on exhausted and without similar resources or respite.

    Bert groaned, then struggled up from the carpet. He was a mess of purple, swollen flesh, and his bloodshot eyes stared dazedly from a puffy misshapen face. Standing again, he rolled his shoulders and stretched his muscles, the bones beneath cracked before sliding back into place.

    The enemy team looked on in disgusted, horrified awe and Fritz''s own teams'' expressions weren''t much different.

    "Bloody skulg," Fred spat, his face growing paler by the second.

    Fred was right, the shelled creatures were absurdly hard to kill, and in his current state Bert much resembled one. Truly the man should be dead, not slowly getting better by the minute like he was.

    Bert grinned bloodily, spat and said, "You''ll have to do better than that."

    "Jasper, throw me the Juggernaut elixir," Larry ordered, his face contorted in concern.

    "Are you sure?" Jasper asked warily, "You know it''s a last resort."

    "I ain''t takin'' no chances," Larry retorted. "These folk have to die."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 51

    "Wait! We can talk about this," Fritz entreated, hoping his voice reached through the clear dome that separated his team from the other crew. He sheathed Quicksilver in a show of good faith, displaying an honest desire for diplomacy and hiding his duplicity.

    Larry stood in front, a brutal expression on his already brutal, slightly burnt face. Behind him and holding the staff projecting the protection, Jasper glanced around tiredly. And further behind, Toby stood in the door''s shadowy arch and Jane was kneeling. She fussed over the wretched-looking dagger-wielder woman, applying grease and bandages to her blackened skin. Thankfully, the woman had passed out or had been put to sleep with some medicine or tonic and no longer cried out in agony.

    Toby and Jane stole swift stares at each other, having some silent conversation with only their eyes and glances. Larry and Fred stood at the edge of the barrier, glaring and glowering. Fred pulled the arrow from his leg with a grunt, then drank down a thin red potion.

    "I don''t care what you have to say," Larry growled.

    The floor shook again, stronger than before.

    "The flood is coming, let''s work together to loot this room rather than squabble amongst ourselves," Fritz offered.

    He was happy to make the bargain, he and his team had already opened the golden cage earlier. There had been two doors built into the bars, both were locked but it was a simple problem to remedy with Fritz''s lockpicking skills. They had not been magically protected like the vault and stairway doors. Inside, on a desk, they had found a chest and had quickly stored it away in Cal''s black pack, not wanting to waste what little time they had to themselves sorting through its contents.

    After all, they had an ambush to plan. Too bad it hadn''t worked.

    "Give them a chance," Toby said, who''s words were followed by Jane''s, "Yeah, this place is sinking, it''s not worth fighting over if we all drown."

    Larry''s face scrunched into a scowl, but a thoughtful glint entered his blunt stare.

    "You couldn''t get all the treasure with your head start?" He asked.

    "No there''s plenty left, though it''s locked up in these displays and behind barriers like your wonderful dome," Fritz said. "Your club shattered a case, far more than we''ve been able to manage," he added untruthfully. They had the time to smash the glass and grab the contents of three of the displays before preparing their attack.

    "Hmm," Larry hummed in consideration, greed and his dull desire for revenge seemingly at odds.

    Suddenly, Fred staggered, then fell face down on the red carpet with a thud. Larry turned to see the man convulsing and spitting bloody foam.

    Fritz winced internally, of all the times for the raider''s poison to actually work it had to be now when he was negotiating. He had hoped that whatever potion the man had drank would stall the venom''s progress. Too bad the Krakosi had such skill in brewing deadly things. Too bad it acted so fast, just when he almost had Larry agree to a truce.

    For a moment they watched in mute horror as the doomed man twitched violently. After several heartbeats, Fred finally fell still, silent and dead as a stone.

    "Nope, time to die," Larry said bitterly. "Jasper, the elixir."

    Jasper looked at his fallen crew, worry creeping over his features and with one hand began to search through his pouches.

    "It''s not here, it must be in my pack," he said in a higher-than-normal pitch, all that breathiness stolen away by the stress of the confrontation.

    "I''ll get it," Toby said darkly, his eye were like daggers, cutting from Jasper to Fritz and his team beyond.

    "It''ll be in the bottom-left outer pouch," Jasper directed.

    Fritz seethed, his legs wanted to pace and his mind wanted to scream. He tried again for diplomacy, he needed that key and having to fight the ridiculously, strong man who held it was the worst possible situation.

    The floor rumbled again.

    Okay, not the worst situation, he conceded internally.

    Every moment the pulsing of Trap Sense in the back of his mind grew quicker, more urgent. Ten minutes, five? Another devastating swing from Larry''s club and maybe they would have even less than that.

    Toby walked to the packs hidden somewhere down the stairs and was back within moments, hefting a bottle filled with what looked like liquid iron. With an exaggerated limp, he strode towards Larry, but was stopped by an order.

    "That''s close enough, throw it."

    "What?"'' Toby asked, halting beside Jasper who eyed him warily.

    "Throw it," Larry ordered again, caution and mistrust written plain across his brutish features.

    Toby glanced around furtively and his eyes met Jane''s. There was a flurry of movement from the pair. Toby spun, stabbing a throwing dagger into Jasper''s throat, the blade gleamed with a red outline and was quickly buried up to its hilt into the man''s neck. The wind mage looked surprised, then he fell, gurgling and pouring out a tide of blood which soaked the already red carpet.

    Jane raked the burnt woman''s own dagger across her defenceless neck, slitting her throat neatly without a fuss and without a fight. The woman died without even waking. In a moment of stunned silence none made a move. Larry stared at the two incredulously, his face a blank mask until it twisted into a grimace of absolute fury.

    "Scumsucking traitors!" He bellowed, turning his back on Fritz to face the pair and raising his huge club over his head.

    The protective dome still stood somehow, and with a quick glance, Fritz found the cause. Even without Jasper holding it the staff hovered stiffly in the air, it glowed subtly while still maintaining the protective field.

    "Toby, the staff!" He cried, and Toby, seemingly by reflex, acted, grabbing the pale glowing object and deactivating it.

    The dome fell away and Fritz moved, followed by his whole team. There was a burning roar from behind him and he stepped out of the path of the torrent of flames, then had to duck a spray of acid that arced over his head. Both streams splattered Larry''s back and his bellow became a scream as he sizzled and was scorched. Smoke and steam cascaded from him and the club he held above his head began to hum with that brutal force again.

    Fritz picked up Mortal Edge from where it lay by Fred''s corpse, and sprinted towards Larry, activating his dagger''s curse. He needed to stop the man from striking and potentially breaking the walls or bringing down the glass roof. Sprinting, and joined by a Bull Rushing Bert and an Interposing Rosie the three were within a foot of the man before the club came down.

    Larry must have been holding back before, this swing felt like the very sky was falling. Bert and Rosie were blown away, crashing into the golden cage and bending the bars with their bone-breaking impact. Fritz himself was rendered intangible, the bleak cold of shadow washing over him as his friends and the floor were devastated. Even in his phased form, Fritz could feel the wave of force flow through him, leaving his insubstantial body trembling.

    Great cracks could be heard, snapping from the stone below his feet. Water sprayed from under the carpet like a fountain. Jane and Toby had also been blown backwards, however they had already been retreating and suffered far less than the others. Though Fritz could also see a transparent barrier dissipate around Jane, she likely had some kind of protective Treasure, which made sense, you had to keep the Healer safe.

    Larry raised his weapon with one hand and pointed at Toby, yelling, "Fight me, coward!"

    Again that false rage boiled in his chest and Fritz had to stop himself from striking while he was still a mere shade. Instead, he floated above the man, it was an odd, eerie feeling to move himself so without leaping. He poised himself to fall upon Larry with Mortal Edge gripped in both hands, ready to plunge into his unprotected neck.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    His second was up, and adding Gloom Strike to his blade, Fritz plummeted the small distance, the tip of his dagger finding its mark just between the man''s shoulders and neck. Mortal Edge cut into tough skin but was soon stopped by the density of the muscle beneath, it stuck fast, the blade buried only halfway while blood spilled from around it. Fritz tried to press it further, but it was impossible, like trying to split a log with a kitchen knife.

    Larry bellowed and spun, swinging his enormous club horizontally without looking. The sweeping blow would have splattered Fritz, but he had felt it coming and easily ducked below it, leaving his dagger in the man''s flesh. Panting, and feeling the drain on his stamina from having no Dusksong, Fritz conjured a black orb of shadow around Larry''s head, then wove Lethargy into the mans body.

    Fritz staggered as he retreated from the man''s reach, and leapt into a dive as the club reversed its path. Larry had swung again, this time lower, and the huge bone whooshed just over Fritz''s head by an inch.

    "What did you do!" Larry cried out blindly, obviously not realising he could just walk out of the Illusory Shadow''s effect.

    "You''re forever blind! You will never see the light again!" Fritz lied, yelling over the noise of rushing water and signalling to Bert who had struggled back to his feet. Surprisingly Rosie also stood, blearily and bloody but not nearly as injured as Fritz thought she''d be.

    "Bastard!" Larry yelled. Turning this way and that, sweeping the club wildly. From the corner of his eye, Fritz could see Toby and Jane collecting bags and packs, then move on to looting their former team.

    Fritz glanced to Bert who nodded, spat a glob of thick dark blood and prepared to rush again.

    "Over here you blundering, blowhole botherer," Fritz cried out as Cal pelted Larry with another fist-sized stone that bounced off his breastplate with a clang. Larry turned to the noise and Fritz continued levelling insults to distract him while making sure to not to get so much as brushed by the club''s terrible, thrumming arcs.

    Bert thundered into the stocky man, a low tackle that nearly took the both of them off their feet, but only succeeded in locking them both in a scuffling stalemate. Bert pawed at the man, trying to find some purchase with which to throw him to the ground, quickly he found Fritz''s blade still stuck in the man and with a grunt of effort leveraged it to nearly pull the man to the floor. Larry had to drop his club to fend off Bert''s grip. Even while blind and cursed, he was able to grab Bert by the shoulders, then with arms rippling with force, he pulled him off his feet, into to air and tossed him away.

    Bert crashed into a plinth, spun like a top and slammed into the floor, he lay still for a moment before lifting his head, standing up, and winking one swollen eye at Fritz. Cal threw a stone that disappeared into the false darkness and thudded wetly, likely striking Larry''s head. The orb of black vanished to show a pale face bulging with veins, incensed and insane. Larry shouted wordlessly and made to leap at Fritz.

    It was time to go.

    Fritz shifted the cracked stone beneath the carpet Larry stood upon, and a gout of saltwater sprayed forth at high speed, blasting the man a step backwards and covering their escape in a haze of mist.

    Waving the retreat, Fritz spun and ran, followed by the rest of his team, Bert limped along before a bone snapped back into place and he Bull Rushed past them in a streak of bruises and blood. The glass dome overhead cracked and both Lauren and Fritz were sprinkled with seawater, they grimaced and redoubled their pace, leaving Larry behind. Only when he saw a glint of red did Fritz alter his path, scooping up a glittering gem the size of his fist and slipping it into a pocket, before resuming the most direct path out.

    The rushing and roaring grew in volume, the floor shook like a ship''s deck in a storm, threatening to trip Fritz''s tired legs. The activation of his Abilities had left him as wrung out as he had been in the Sunken Spire and the terror that he had felt then, when he was weak and wretched, returned. He screamed as he sprinted to the Stairway doors. He wasn''t the only one.

    Behind them, there was more cracking, and geysers of water blasted from the floor, accompanied by shards of shattered stone. Fritz nearly bounced off the steel doors still blocking their way, in the distance he could hear Larry bellowing and slamming the ground with his club in some mad fit of rage. Obviously he''d realised he couldn''t catch them.

    Larry''s lost it, he wants to take us all with him.

    Bert was already by the steel doors, waiting for Fritz, the key he had stolen while wrestling with Larry firmly in the left lock. With shaking hands Fritz rummaged in his pocket pulling free his own steel key and plunging it into the other keyhole. Together, without even glancing to each other, they turned the keys. Fritz couldn''t hear the clunk and the clank of the tumblers and mechanism, and for a moment he feared that they had failed, that they had the wrong keys or had somehow broken the doors.

    As his stomach fell as if weighed down by a stone the size of the moon, then the doors swung open. Just in time, as his Traps Sense screamed to a crescendo. He heard the vault door buckle and saw the glass above spiderweb with long cracks. The greatest tremor so far threw him and his team to the floor as the room tilted sideways.

    They scrabbled and scrambled, crawling and climbing into the stairway beyond, his whole team cursing, yelling or crying as they piled in and up the stairs. When he was through the doors, Fritz glanced behind, watched the flood come, swallowing Larry, the cage and washing everything away. The unstoppable wave surged toward them, the edges of the archway fuzzed and blurred.

    The Stairway''s opening and the view to the Floor beyond flickered between grey and black. Then suddenly, it stopped. The thunder of water was silent, the tremors had stilled and the light snuffed out. The archway had been sealed with scaled stone. Or perhaps it had always been such and the portal had closed?

    Fritz shook his head and lay amongst the panting bodies, wet with seawater, blood and sweat.

    "Everyone alive?" Fritz croaked.

    There were grumbles and some sniffling whines.

    "Roll call," he ordered.

    "Lauren!" Lauren said tearily.

    "Rosie!" Rosie grumbled.

    "Bert!" Bert laughed.

    "George!" George groaned.

    "Cal!" Cal called.

    "Fritz!" Fritz ended, relief flooding through him. Then in the quiet, he noticed that there were too many bodies. They had intruders, trying to be as quiet as possible, yet stuck in the press of people piled in the stairway.

    "Toby? Jane?" Fritz asked, too weary to summon any anger.

    "We''re here," Toby said morosely as Jane cried and blew her nose into a handkerchief.

    "Of course you are," Fritz groaned. "Bloody rats. I should kill you both where you stand."

    "We''re not standing," Toby argued.

    "It''s a figure of speech," Fritz stated, struggling to stand from under an armoured arm and a scaled leg. He quickly gave up, slumping and deciding to rest and revel in his and his team''s survival. So what if they had a couple of stowaways? They could be dealt with. Later.

    Slowly, after a minute or two of everyone catching their breaths, they began to disentangle themselves. Once standing they trudged up the stairs, letting Toby and Jane stay in the rear. Fritz felt it was safe to do so, not sensing any animosity from the two, they were just as, if not more, tired as his own team. They didn''t look up to another fight.

    They stepped through the doorway to enter the Well room, fittingly it had taken the form of a sitting room or quiet private room in a library. Armchairs, tea tables and desks were arranged neatly around a hovering sphere of blue and green shapes. It glowed with an internal light and Fritz immediately knew it to be the Well. Instead of being covered in bookcases the walls were bare stone and, surprisingly, across from where he stood were four rather than three doors.

    That mystery could wait for later, as could his other problems, for now, he needed the promised recovery of the dimly glowing sphere. Again, he was not alone as he walked wearily to the Well and placed a hand upon it, pulling in its cool, refreshing Power, letting it soothe his aches and pains away.

    When he had taken all he was due, he strode to an armchair and sat heavily, breathing out a sigh and contemplating the current situation, or rather, situations. He had many choices to make, the least of which was his new Ability now that he was level eighteen.

    What really wracked his mind was what to do with Toby and Jane, they had also healed up some and were whispering together, as they always did. It was somewhat nostalgic and a bitter pang ran through him amplified by Dusksong''s hiss.

    "Jane, can you do anything for my team?" Fritz asked, seeing that some of them were still somewhat scuffed and bruised, especially Bert who had taken the worst beating he''d ever seen.

    "I could," Jane hedged, her eyes shifting slyly, as cunning as a cuttlefish.

    "Then do it, would you?" Fritz said exasperatedly.

    "What do I get out of it?" Jane asked.

    "We''ll decide your fate later when we''ve had time to rest," Fritz said, already tired of her bargaining. "I''m sure helping us will sweeten some of the sourness held for you."

    She hesitated for a moment, but soon walked briskly to Bert''s side and began to sew some lingering cuts together with her Ability.

    Fritz watched, but when he saw nothing untoward, he levelled his gaze on Toby who was searching the room with his customary grumpy frown. His eyes hovered most on the doors out and he seemed to be contemplating an escape.

    "Go through, I won''t stop you," Fritz said easily. "Though you never know what lies beyond. It could be far worse than staying here with us."

    Toby shuffled on his feet and shrugged.

    "Unlikely," he disagreed, but he made no move to flee. Instead, he set down his burdensome packs and bags and sat opposite Fritz in a near identical armchair.

    "I see you''ve managed to scavenge more than your share of packs, and treasures," Fritz noted.

    "Found them lying around. No one will miss them," Toby said.

    "The bags or the crew?"

    Toby shrugged, his lip quirking.

    "I''m sure the Nightshark would though," Fritz posited. "Larry was respected."

    "Feared," Bert corrected, joining the conversation by pulling over a desk chair and sitting on it backwards.

    He looked far better now, even if he had distinctly plum-coloured patches all over his body. Though Fritz knew those would fade in time and would likely be gone after a good night''s rest. Oh, how he could do with a short nap, those Abilities really took it out of him. Now that he''d had Dusksong for some time he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be draining his own Stamina to use his Powers.

    "Both," Jane added, after leaving Lauren''s side. She had mended the fire mage''s cut arm as best she could, which was actually quite well. The long, deep cut was now a light scar rather than the nasty scab the Well had left it. Fritz was annoyed that he was impressed.

    "Either way, they won''t be happy you helped murder him," Fritz stated.

    "Blackmail is it?" Toby summarised.

    "Maybe. I''m still deciding if you two can be trusted any further," Fritz said.

    "We helped you out by bringing down the dome," Toby said.

    "By betraying them," Fritz said offhandedly. "Hardly trustworthy."

    Toby and Jane looked to each other. Sometimes, like now, it felt like the two could read each other''s minds, it was nauseating.

    Fritz sighed, they really were impossible to trust, but he couldn''t just attack them, kill them in cold blood. Not right now, even if his Dusksong wouldn''t stop pestering him to punish them.

    "We keep quiet about you and you keep quiet about us," Jane offered. "Seeings you don''t have any of the Nightshark''s men with you that means you must have lied and schemed your way here."

    Internally Fritz scowled, though on the outside he maintained his blandest smirk. Jane was always something of a conniving witch, it didn''t surprise him that she had guessed some of his and Bert''s predicament.

    "Blackmail is it?" Fritz repeated flatly, and Bert scowled. It seemed he was also at the end of his rope with these two. Even if he didn''t speak Fritz could see the anger and a spark of hurt in his friend''s amber eyes. Truly his friend had finally had enough of defending their former crew.

    "Both ways, mutual disclosure," Toby stated. A bitter taste washed over Fritz''s tongue, fury he thought burnt out, burst back into being, white-hot and wild.

    "Or I could kill you right now," Fritz said, standing suddenly, letting his Dusksong run rampant for a moment before reigning it in and glaring down at their startled faces.

    Wrestling with his anger, he found that Quicksilver was in his hand, he must have drawn it on instinct. Its black blade was inches from Toby''s throat. The traitor didn''t dare move, his wide, terrified gaze was locked on the jagged edge, and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

    "Don''t!" Jane cried.

    "Why!?" Fritz yelled. "You''re traitors, we can''t trust a thing you say. Give me one good reason not to be rid of you. Right here and right now."

    "I''m with child!"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 52

    "What!?" Fritz, Toby and Bert cried in unison, staring at the young woman.

    "I said: I''m with child," Jane repeated, blushing furiously and wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively.

    Fritz and Bert looked to Toby incredulously, his face had gone as pale as a sheet and he started to stammer.

    "Wa-wa-what!?" He finally enunciated.

    "You heard," she said, getting redder by the second.

    "You weren''t taking precautions?" Lauren asked agitatedly. "The herbs are cheap, far cheaper than a child."

    "Cheap or not we can''t afford them," Jane protested.

    "You went into a Spire in your condition, what if you got hurt?" Lauren fumed, apparently taking this obvious lie seriously.

    "I didn''t know. I wasn''t sure until a couple of days ago," Jane admitted.

    "If you didn''t know for sure, that means you suspected earlier," Lauren insisted. "How long?"

    "I was late, before I got my Path, a week or two before I''d even seen the inside of a Spire," Jane near whispered to Lauren. "At first I thought it was just from not being able to eat enough. And then, in the Spire, I thought it was all the fear and danger. But now I''ve started getting sick in the mornings, and that''s one of them signs."

    Lauren huffed out a supremely annoyed breath, obviously she thought the woman should know better and Fritz agreed. That, and it all fit too neatly.

    "We were in the Well room only a day or two ago, we could have left," Toby said his sullen demeanour stripped away and replaced with a coat of worry and helpless anger. "Why didn''t you say anything!?"

    "Because it''s a falsehood," Fritz stated, completely unconvinced, but letting his blade fall from Toby''s neck and sheathing Quicksilver all the same. "A scheme to stir our sympathies."

    "It''s not, you bastard!" Jane spat. Fritz turned his eyes away, not wanting to look at the embarrassing outburst, not wanting to see the motes of truth hovering above her unkempt, mousy hair.

    "Listen to me!"

    "No, you''re liars and traitors," Fritz stated for what seemed like the ninth time. "And we should be done with you. All things must come to an end."

    Those words had dreadful finality to them that startled all around, even himself. Yet he held onto the bitter grudge as hard as he could, so he could do the safe thing, so he could protect himself and his team. If he slew the two here his secrets would stay secret.

    It was logical, it was rational, it was callous and cruel.

    It was brutal, it was bloody, it was needed to rule.

    Bert tapped him on the shoulder and with a dark expression handed him Mortal Edge. He could see in his friend''s eyes that this was his decision to make, that Bert would follow him wherever he went. Even to the Abyss. The bone dagger was cold in his hand, as it should be, and he wished he could be so as well. It would make this easier. Fritz searched his team''s faces, their scowls, apprehension and fear, but none moved to block him. None would gainsay.

    He wished they would.

    "Fritz! Don''t! At least look at me! I''m not lying!" Jane begged. And he did, tears streamed down her puffy face and Toby was by her side, terrified, vicious and full of fury. His daggers were drawn and he was ready to fight until the end. Around them truth and lies mingled, swirled, like the morning fog, obscuring the words'' sincerity, rendering them unreadable.

    He couldn''t be sure. He could only trust the two to do what was good for themselves. And he knew what that felt like.

    Dusksong spat and screeched for him to harm them, to rain vengeance upon them, but should he listen to that call, that beautifully bleak song? Was it to be more murder by his hands? More screaming faces in his dreams? More blood, an endless tide of red drowning him in both in his nightmares and in his waking.

    No.

    Something inside Fritz slipped, all his cold cruelty, all his righteous rage, fell away, suddenly filling him with a grave grief. The raw hurt of their betrayal finally burbling to the surface, finally needing to be addressed.

    "Damn you two," Fritz sighed, sliding his bone blade back into its sheath and turning away, hiding his own streaming tears. Striding, he left the circle of people and hid in the shadow.

    ---

    Bert stood by. He watched Toby and Jane collapse into each other''s arms and rain each other with light kisses and soothing words. Now that the decision had been made and the danger had passed their sudden joy was infectious. Smiles spread from face to face and even though he felt nothing but annoyance at the two, he too soon began to grin in earnest.

    With a shrug he embraced it. No use holding on to the past when there was some happiness to be had.

    "Toby," Bert said slapping the man on the shoulder "Jane," he added putting a hand on her shoulder too.

    "Congratulations!" He said pulling them both into a hug and laughing.

    "Ah, get off," Toby said struggling against his indomitable strength for a moment before giving up and returning the gesture. "Thank you."

    "Yes, thank you. I don''t know how you did it, but thank you for convincing Fritz," Jane said with a small sniffle, wiping teary eyes into his vest.

    Bert had done nothing of the sort, but these two wouldn''t believe that Fritz was good, deep down. Deep, deep down. So he let them continue to believe that he himself was the ''good one.'' They had to keep up their respective roles, even If Bert had to prod Fritz to live a life he wouldn''t regret. That bone dagger had reminded Fritz of all the death they had inflicted, as Bert knew it would, and had stirred his brother''s kind heart into beating.

    That''s where he and Fritz differed. Fritz would regret the killing, the suffering, he was sensitive. Bert wouldn''t regret anything, he''d noticed that long ago. But that was who he was. No use complaining about that lack. Worry is waste.

    "Hah! There''s no way I could let you die, not when you''re going to be a family," Bert said. "But if you''d like to thank me you could always name it after me."

    They both smiled, but something about their faces told him it was forced.

    "Of course," Jane said.

    "We''ll think about it," Toby added.

    "Anyway, come join us for dinner," Bert said. "Cal, when''s dinner?"

    "Lunch," Cal corrected. "As soon as you want me to start making it."

    "I''m pretty hungry after that battle, so now," Bert insisted.

    "Give me five minutes and I''ll start, I''ve got to align my Attributes anyway," Cal said.

    "I should do the same," George said, taking off his helm and setting down his sword. Lauren and Rosie nodded, eager to align as well.

    "Get to it, I''ll keep an eye out," Bert allowed. "Toby, Jane, I''m watching you," he added jovially as if believing them no threat, which they weren''t. But he was still watching them, Fritz was right about one thing; they couldn''t be trusted.

    Absently he wondered if he had been offered what he needed yet, the power he hadn''t used was starting to strain his Sanctum. The crowd inside was roaring so loud, they wanted to see his next armaments and foes, having grown bored with the large quartz orb nestled in the sands. While they anticipated great things from the shining sphere he had brought into the arena, he too was frustrated he still hadn''t been offered the power he waited for.

    He hoped what he desired wasn''t limited to a Trait as his current slots were filled. One of them was that latent faerie trait, Twilight Touched, the other, Blighted Blood, had been eaten by his Potent Blood, which was fitting considering they both had blood in the name. Maybe something similar would happen with the other latent Trait?

    George surfaced from his Sanctum, a muted self-satisfied smile pulling at his lip. He caught Bert''s gaze, and asked, "Want to check on your Sanctum?"

    "You''re a good man, George. I''ll do that," Bert replied. "This is Toby and Jane. I don''t think they''ll make any more trouble, but keep an eye on them."

    The armoured man nodded, swivelling his solid stare to the two still hugging and holding close each other.

    Bert fell into the arena, the cheers greeted him, drowning the jeers and boos. Immediately he accessed his next choices. His previous offerings were terrible, Water Acclimation, Deep Lungs and Slick Skin. If pressed for power he might have taken the Slick Skin, but he didn''t desire to be slimy all the time, no matter what he professed. So it was with some excitement and trepidation he looked over his choices.

    ---------

    Passive Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Supple Muscles

    Stretching fibres, will take and take. Springy, spongy, will bend not break.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Your muscles become more resistant to force, strain and snapping.

    Alignment: Body, Primal.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have been bruised many times.

    You have recovered from bruises many times.

    Influenced by Path.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    Influenced by Body Aligned Abilities (Bull Rush, Tough Skin, Corrosive Conditioning).

    ---

    Vital Bond

    Help each other, to any lengths. Beast is brother, share your strengths.

    You and one bonded beast share Health Recovery to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Bond, Primal, Life.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have cradled and protected an unbound beast for many days.

    You have Climbed with an unbound beast for many Floors.

    Influenced by Trait (Twilight Touched).

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    ---

    Slick Skin

    Slipping, sliding, slimy skin. Glisten, gliding, snail''s twin.

    Your skin becomes slick with slime.

    Alignment: Body, Primal, Water.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have been submerged in water for many hours.

    You have cradled and protected an unbound beast for many days.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    Influenced by Body Aligned Abilities (Bull Rush, Tough Skin, Corrosive Conditioning).

    ---

    ---------

    Let''s see, Supple Muscles, Vital Bond and... Slick Skin, again! No way, not unless it was suppressible.

    But the other two... interesting...

    ---

    Fritz wiped his face clean with a patch of sirensilk, it took to tears just as well as any other water, the salty drops swiftly slipping through it and down to the carpet. He hadn''t expected the outburst and terrible pain. He had thought that his anger at the betrayal had been one of besmirched honour, not honest hurt from being spurned by those he had, in some hidden corner of his heart, considered friends.

    Now though, now he knew. He was better for it, even if it was awful in the moment, he felt like another of the weights cast about his shoulders had been lifted. He rolled his shoulders stretched his back and turned his mind to another pressing issue. Power. Cold energies circling his centre seeking to be incorporated into his Sanctum.

    He wouldn''t let it wait. He fell into his Sanctum. The rain felt lazy, dreary and drumming. It was likely due to his rung-out emotions, or so he suspected. He was in his pavilion, right by the eldritch flame. It crackled and cackled, having obviously enjoyed his turmoil.

    Bastard. Maybe I should tighten its cage.

    Fritz discarded the thought, he had a new Ability to choose, and with his slots all filled he didn''t know exactly what was next. The books he had read suggested something about Ability Evolutions but he didn''t remember reading anything about the process.

    Nothing for it, let''s see the offerings.

    ---------

    Ability Evolution

    Choose One

    ---------

    ---

    Lethargy

    ---

    Trap Sense

    ---

    Danger Sense

    ---

    ---------

    Three choices of Abilities, split over both Actives and Passives. He wondered what the criteria were for these specific offerings to be presented with Evolutions, and soon theorised that they were the powers that he had either used the most or found the most success with. How his Sanctum judged such things he didn''t know, but with no real information on the subject he was forced to make his decisions in the dark. Something he was all too used to.

    Fritz searched the Abilities within himself and considered which would be most useful to empower. Unfortunately, it seemed that he had to choose one to Evolve before he could see what changes could be wrought, which made the task of selecting one far harder. Especially since all the Abilities were ones he valued highly.

    Lethargy was powerful and had aided him in many fights, going so far as to be instrumental in fighting the Raider. If the beast hadn''t slowed due to his exhaustion it was likely that Fritz would have died within the first few clashes.

    Trap Sense had saved his and his Team''s lives many times over and any improvement would be a boon. Danger Sense was similar, it had also saved his life, over and over, and made him nearly untouchable when combined with his Grace and Agility. Though he did concede it was less needed now that he had Umbral Phase.

    This was an important decision so he didn''t intend to rush it, instead, he resolved to gather some knowledge about the next Doors. Perhaps that would help him make his choice.

    He drifted from his Sanctum and plastered a smile across his face as he strode into the firelight. The team had taken to smashing a few of the desks for firewood, an ingenious use of the Well room''s resources, and a pot lay on the flickering flame its contents bubbling away merrily.

    Despite the team''s victory, there was little in the way of celebration. In fact, the mood was muted, tense, around the two traitors, even as Bert attempted to build some kind of acceptance of their presence. He was joking and jovial, but nothing could cover the stares of naked mistrust sent their way.

    It was good to see that they had some sense.

    Fritz waved to the team and when they saw his light expression they relaxed somewhat.

    "Well, I''m glad to see you''re all settling in," he said.

    "As well as may be," Jane said. "Considering the circumstances."

    "There are indeed some circumstances to consider. Such as yours," Fritz said. "What are your intentions? You can''t leave the Spire until you reach the precipice, and you''re only two people. You''re in quite the predicament."

    "Do you really care, Fritz?" Jane asked dejectedly.

    Strangely enough, Fritz did. He knew he could no longer wrap himself in apathy, not now.

    "I do," he stated.

    "We don''t know what to do. We''re stuck between the flood and the sea here," Toby said, looking as though he had given up.

    "Chin up," Bert said, between mouthfuls of stew. "It might not be so bad, depending on the Doors up."

    "With the spite it''s all but certain we''d die," Toby grumbled.

    "It''s not," Lauren said offhandedly, taking a bowl from Cal. "It makes things harder, but not impossible."

    Toby shrugged. "About the same for us."

    Jane looked to Lauren who smiled gently, and then to Fritz. He could see the calculation in her grey eyes and hear the desperation in her voice when she spoke, "Take us with you."

    Fritz expected his team to call out in incredulity, to tell her in no uncertain terms that they would not. But they were silent and staring down into empty or half-filled bowls.

    "Please, if not for me, then for the child."

    Fritz knew it was coming, knew she would say such manipulative words as soon as she had found his unwillingness to harm them. What he didn''t expect was the audacity of her next argument.

    "If you don''t bring us, you''ll be abandoning us to die," Jane said pitiably.

    "Like you did to me and Bert," Fritz noted cuttingly.

    "Exactly, you''ll be just as bad as us," Toby countered.

    Fritz nearly rolled his eyes at the accusation, there was no way he was as bad as these two, he dismissed that insult as what it was, as a desperate ploy.

    "Hardly," Fritz drawled.

    "We''ll give you the stuff we''ve found so far," Jane offered, not mentioning that they''d looted it from their former crew''s corpses.

    "We could take it from you ourselves," Fritz said with a yawn.

    "You would rob a mother-to-be, leaving us nothing to protect ourselves?" Jane said as if appalled, glancing around to judge how much sympathy she was seeding. Annoyingly it seemed both Lauren and George were taking the bait, they frowned at Fritz as if he were some cruel tyrant.

    Fritz shook his head. You had to give it to her, she was cunning. It was impressive that despite their pitiful situation she was able to turn it to her advantage. You had to respect it. And in some small way, all her claims were correct, and it did feel wrong to leave them here or rob them, no matter what they had done before.

    The longer the two were allowed to speak, allowed to mingle with the others, the more they would worm their way into his team''s good graces. While they didn''t have Fritz''s raw charm, Toby reminded one of a kicked dog and Jane wasn''t so bad once you got to know her. He couldn''t let them sway his team further, though maybe it was already too late.

    "We''ll take a vote on it, once I''ve checked the doors, once we''ve had some time to consider," Fritz decided. "My team have as much right as I to accept or decline your request."

    This route also had the added benefit of casting the blame on others rather than himself. It was an act not exactly befitting a gallant captain such as himself, but exceptions had to be made in such situations.

    "Finish your bowls, and scurry off to some dark corner while we confer. I''ll not have you undermine our council with your conniving and your whining."

    Jane looked to the team, entreating them with wide teary eyes. They avoided her gaze, a sure sign that they had already started considering her an ally, or at least an acquaintance, rather than an enemy. The pregnancy ploy had been inspired, it really had shifted their view in mere moments. Still, if it were true, slaying someone in such a condition wouldn''t sit well with him, not well at all, he didn''t need a wailing child to be added to his nightmares.

    Fritz shuddered, and when no one spoke up for the two turncoats they finished their food and fled to a dark corner. They even went so far as to leave their obvious weapons, though Fritz knew Toby would always be carrying a hidden knife, it was just who he was. With them split from the team, Fritz made his way to the doors, four doors.

    The first thing he noticed was that the Hidden Door wasn''t all that hidden. The second was that the Hidden Door was covered by those same steel double doors as the previous Floor. The Third was that it had three keyholes. Thrice locked and thrice blocked. He tried his lock picks and wasn''t surprised when he was thoroughly thwarted by more tumbler protecting barriers.

    "You two didn''t find another of the keys did you?" Fritz shouted before he realised it didn''t matter. He and Bert hadn''t taken the two they used on the Stairway door.

    "No," Toby yelled back.

    Fritz shrugged like it didn''t affect him, even if he was supremely annoyed at finding a locked, Hidden Door. He didn''t even know they existed, his father had never bothered to mention it. With nothing to be done, he turned and strode to the leftmost Door and started his investigation. He pulled out the tattered chapter and pretended to read, as was usual, though he thought that maybe the game was up, as Lauren had taken a seat by the Doors and watched him suspiciously.

    "Need something?" He asked the staring woman. "I''m afraid I''m courting another if that was your intention."

    Lauren scoffed. "Woe to them, they''d have to be insane to reciprocate your affections."

    "Harsh!" Fritz cried exaggeratedly. "However, I doubt you''re the bastion of sanity you think you are and I didn''t hear a no."

    She smiled politely. "Also, you''re a man."

    "Ah, is that how it is," Fritz said.

    "It is," she said.

    Fritz nodded, then smirked. "Then why are you watching me if you care not for my dashing, handsome bearing?"

    "You barely read that thing, and it''s falling to pieces," Lauren said, pointing to the chapter in his hand.

    "I''ve memorised most of it, and the Guides Guild are a bunch of cheap bastards. Not my fault they use such thin paper," he said, waving the paper so a page fell out. "See."

    "Sure," Lauren said sceptically. "And there''s no secret Spire?"

    "No," Fritz said.

    Lauren frowned.

    "I see you are not convinced, however, you should remember that not all secrets are safe to hold," Fritz warned. "It would be best you dropped this line of enquiry if you value your freedom."

    "I see," she replied. "And if I still want to know?"

    "That''s a conversation for later, for the precipice or even the outside," Fritz said.

    "I''m not happy about this, but I''ll trust you further," Lauren said. "You''ve earned that much."

    "And here I thought bringing you great power and wealth would earn the undying loyalty I deserve," Fritz bemoaned.

    Lauren laughed at that. "You know you may actually be close, even with all your lies and secrets. I know the others would likely throw themselves in front of an arrow meant for you."

    "What? Even Cal?" Fritz said somewhat surprised.

    "Even Cal. Bert would, no question, and you saved George''s life, he''d want to repay that. He''s that sort you know, honourable. Rosie already has taken a blade for you and I... well, I appreciate what you''ve done for us. Thank you."

    Fritz was somewhat shocked by her observations and reflected that maybe he had been doing the right thing by them, even if he sometimes felt that he had tricked them into a Spire under false pretences. He had by all accounts lied to them, but hearing Lauren thank him was an odd feeling. An odd note of pride rang in his chest and a tone of righteous joy hummed through his body. Fritz smiled.

    "You''re welcome."

    Lauren stood there for a moment longer, coughed, then excused herself, which left Fritz to his previous task. Checking the Doors.

    The leftmost Door was an arch formed of twisted trees, with a ramp and tunnel made of thick muddy soil. The air that seeped down was sour and stank of rot. His Door Sense alighted on the entrance and he felt the impressions of a swamp, or rather a bog, in which tall man-alikes wearing hats of woven reed and wielding weapons of gnarled wood strode the waters. These creatures, he knew, were not friendly, they had an air of cruelty around them. That, and they wore the skins of their own kind as armour.

    Must be the bog-man-alikes and therefore this is the persistent Floor that Lauren had mentioned.

    He turned to the middle door in all its sandy glory. A ramp of fine, white grains with a chill breeze blowing over it. When he pressed his Awareness to the Door he was granted visions of cold atolls in a freezing sea and connected to one another by sand bridges. Beneath the waves, there were sharks and fish. Powerful, but not dangerous to their current group, as long as they didn''t go swimming.

    The last Door led to another beach, this one of harsh yellow stones beside an ocean of deep purple. Amongst the rocks, Fritz could feel the crabs and lobsters that blended into the landscape, their rocky shells nearly indistinguishable from the shore. Again, these beasts felt weak, or rather weaker than many of the other they had faced, maybe around the same strength as the leaping lobsters. Though there were more of them, he could tell that much.

    With his scouting completed, he returned to his group only to find them laying out the loot they''d recovered, including, but not limited to the bronze chest they had found in the cage. He had completely forgotten about their fortune, the Treasures and Techniques they had found. He had been far too preoccupied with his thoughts and navigating the traitor situation to pay it much heed.

    But now, smiling wide, he entered the circle of his friends and added his own forgotten spoils to the pile on the tea table. The fist-sized, multifaceted gem gleamed and glittered as it joined a silver chalice and a wide-brimmed, yellow hat adorned with a long, tapered feather of emerald green.

    "Guess we didn''t do so badly after all," Fritz noted.

    "I doubt we were meant to sink the place," Lauren said. "Must have rewarded us."

    "Rewarded us for doing something stupid?" Rosie asked.

    "Something risky," Bert corrected.

    "Stupidly risky," Cal summarised.

    "It wasn''t even us who did it," Rosie said, though she licked her lips as she looked over the pile.

    "I don''t think the Spire cares," Fritz said. "Do you think any are Treasures?"

    "Let''s see," Lauren said, pulling out her lens, cleaning its cloudy glass on her robe and setting it to her eye.

    "Oh, wow."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 53

    "Wow? What?" Cal asked eagerly as Lauren perused the pile of precious objects on the long, wooden table.

    "They mostly seem to be magical items. Not Imbued, mind you, though that''s not so bad," she stated. "Some merely magical items can be just as useful as true Treasures."

    "Even the hat," Cal asked, leaning forward in his chair.

    "Even the hat," she agreed, sitting back down in her armchair. "All except the gem."

    "Too bad we have no no-notes," Bert said, then turned to the corner where Toby and Jane were skulking. "You guys got any no-notes?!"

    "No," Toby replied.

    "Let''s open the chest," Fritz suggested, dragging a stool and joining the team''s circle. "It might have some."

    "Are those two far enough away not to affect the treasure?" Rosie asked, scooting closer.

    "I think it''s more about intent," Fritz said. "As we don''t consider them part of the team they probably won''t benefit."

    "Do you think that would work with the spite? Two teams Climbing, not together but close to each other?" Bert asked hopefully.

    "I don''t know. Though I think if cheating the spite could be done it would be common knowledge. And we would see the Guides Guild take advantage of such things," Fritz theorised.

    "Fritz is right," Lauren said. "The Spire''s have a way of judging such matters, and don''t look kindly on breaking the one rule they impose."

    "They have other rules, like the meritocratic conditions," Fritz said offhandedly.

    "Very rarely encountered, and I''ve heard that''s only invoked to tilt an unfair floor back into the Climber''s favour with some free information," Lauren said.

    "Unfair?" Cal said. "Aren''t all the Floors unfair?"

    "I think the Spires believe that unfair means borderline impossible, or something else equally absurd," Fritz said. Though he suspected that the one time he had heard the term it was used to mislead him and the other Climbers, pushing them into conflict. He felt it was a complete abuse of whatever rules the Spires followed, but there was nothing to be done about it, it''s just how the Spires were.

    "Who cares," Bert interrupted. "If Toby and Jane aren''t going to affect the chest then let''s open it."

    "Agreed!" George said. "Who should do the honours?"

    "Fritz, he picked the locks and led us to victory," Bert said.

    The team nodded, with no further talk Fritz strode to and opened the chest. Multicoloured light streamed then coalesced within the silver-banded wood and he slowly took out the newly created objects.

    Six vials, three with thick red fluid, three with bubbling yellow. One Know-note and three Door dowsers. A dull metal ring that was the twin of Fritz''s own barrier ring. Another refilling water flask, though this one was fashioned like a metal hip flask. Then there was a bag of fifteen gold triads, and lastly a necklace of cloudy glass beads.

    "Not bad," Bert said.

    "Not bad at all," Lauren agreed. "The ring and necklace are Imbued."

    "A goodly amount of potions too," George said nodding sagely.

    "Now how do we split this stuff?" Fritz asked.

    "Well, the last chest''s Treasures went all to us, so however we split it should be up to you," Lauren proposed.

    "That''s right. We''ve already got our stuff haven''t we Cal," Rosie agreed elbowing her brother.

    "Sure do," he responded forlornly, staring at the stupid, yellow, wide-brimmed hat with the green feather.

    Fritz sighed and shook his head with a smile. He snatched up the fashion monstrosity and tossed it to the man. It spun through the air and landed cleanly in Cal''s lap.

    The man immediately brightened, and stuck it on his head, smiling like the idiot he was.

    "What do you think?" He asked Lauren, who smiled politely.

    "It''s... extravagant," she said, though she obviously didn''t like it, not one bit. Fritz had to agree, it was ugly as sin and clashed with everything. Its only saving grace was that it was magical, otherwise he may have had Lauren burn it and spare them from its garish presence.

    "Looks good," Rosie said, revealing herself to be completely blind to fashion.

    "Enough about the hat, what about the rest of the stuff?" Bert said, tearing his envious eyes away from Cal and back to the pile.

    From there, the potions were handed out, one of each to Rosie, Bert and Fritz. The second barrier ring was a difficult matter to decide, as Cal, George and Rosie all had need of it, but it eventually ended up on Rosie''s finger as she was a Defender and was most likely to make use of it. George and Cal said they would rather have her have it anyway. The refilling hip flask went to Bert, who called dibs.

    The door dowsers went to Fritz as he was the Scout, which left only the necklace of glass beads and the Know-note as the last of the chest''s rewards.

    "Should we Note the necklace?" Fritz asked, holding up the beads.

    "I don''t see why not," Lauren said.

    "Go ahead," Rose said, shrugging. "We already know what my coral ring does."

    Fritz shrugged and pressed the white card to the beads, then read the black glyphs burned into paper.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Sea Mist Beads

    ---

    Alignment: Cloud

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Sea Mist

    A cloudy cover of salty spray, fogs and flusters eyes in grey.

    Conjure a dense cloud of salty sea mist around this Treasure.

    Alignment: Cloud.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Five minutes.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    "Creates a mist," Fritz announced, unimpressed.

    "Another mist-based Treasure or Technique," George noted. "Is the Spire trying to tell us something?"

    "I think it''s more likely that one influenced the other to appear," Bert said thoughtfully.

    The whole team turned to him with some incredulity, unused as they were to his sparks of clever cunning, and he nodded sagely, smugly, at them.

    "Bert may be right," Lauren allowed, nearly shuddering at the admission.

    "Still, doesn''t seem useful unless you can see through or control mist," Fritz said.

    "Maybe it will give you some ability to see through the fog?" Rosie said. "Also can''t you Sense Heat, Lauren?"

    "I can," Lauren said.

    "Let''s test it, it only costs two gold," Fritz said, tossing the beads into Lauren''s lap.

    She took up the beads and stood, then mist billowed from the necklace and blanketed most of the room of grey fog.

    Fritz found that he could see his team quite easily, the grey haze barely impeding his vision. Apparently, the same couldn''t be said for the others as they turned this way and that, trying to peer through the fog. It seemed this mist was far less blinding than his Illusory Shadow, though it did cover a far larger area.

    "I can see about nine feet around me, from there it''s too hazy," Lauren said. "Though my Sense Heat does work better in this cool mist. I assume because it gives me more contrast to work with."

    "It''s about the same for me," George provided. "I can see where Bert and Fritz are sitting clearly but everyone else is shadowy."

    "I can see everyone just fine," Fritz boasted.

    "Of course you can, you''re the Scout, idiot," Bert grumbled.

    "Does the mist follow the necklace?" Fritz asked ignoring his friend''s chiding.

    Lauren walked to an unaffected corner and left the fog.

    "No, you just activate it and it lingers," she observed.

    "It''s like squid ink then," Bert summarised. "Could be useful in an escape."

    "Or to sow confusion," Fritz added.

    "Who wants it then?" Bert asked the group. Unsurprisingly, none seemed to have any interest in it. Fritz sighed.

    "I might as well take it," he said, striding out of the cloud and holding out a hand. "I''m hindered least by its fog, and although I have a similar ability this can be used if I''m out of mana. It''s a good fail-safe."

    Lauren placed the necklace in his palm, its beads tapping together with a sound reminiscent of pattering rain. He slipped it around his neck, hiding it under the collar of his shirt where it rested coolly against his skin.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Eventually, the fog faded away and they eyed the other objects. The chest had disappeared, as Spire chests do, and left on the table were four curios they had managed to loot before and during the ambush. There was the red gem, the silver chalice, a black glove and an empty crystal decanter.

    "So this is magical?" Cal asked taking up the chalice and inspecting the glittering white gems set into its elegant face.

    "Yes, except this gem, as I said before," Lauren espoused, picking up the rose-red stone and peering at it.

    "Is it a ruby?" Bert asked eagerly.

    "No. Not a ruby," Lauren stated.

    "Oh. Is it at least valuable?" He asked with some disappointment.

    "I think it''s garnet," Lauren continued, ignoring the man. "And the faceting is weird, like it''s cut and polished on the inside as well. Though it''s not hollow either, very odd."

    "Will that make it worth more?" Fritz asked, feeling again that there was something interesting about the stone, something hidden.

    "I can''t say. Perhaps," Lauren said shrugging. "I think how it''s cut will ruin any of it''s capacity to hold mana. Making it purely ornamental."

    "Oh, so it''s basically a pretty rock," Bert summarised.

    "Basically," Lauren agreed.

    "I''ll take that too, if you don''t mind," Fritz said.

    Lauren shrugged and handed the gem over.

    He stared into its red depths, turning it slowly in his sight watching it gleam and glitter. When he held it to the light the lines within shined in odd patterns, and he knew that there was some secret message sleeping, scintillating, in the geometric spiderweb.

    Fritz was brought out of his musing when there was a gleam of new light, illuminating some lines, but not others, within the gem. He tore his eyes away from the stone and looked to the source of pale brightness. It turned out to be the silver chalice, its white gems were lit up with cool light.

    "What did you do? You better not have broken it," Rosie blurted.

    "It''s not broken, I just put a drop of poison in it," Cal protested.

    "Why did you do that?" Lauren asked.

    "I remembered that some nobles have poison-detecting cups and had a hunch," Cal admitted sheepishly.

    "Seems you were right," Fritz observed. "A very good deduction. Any thoughts on the glove, decanter, or hat?"

    Cal shrugged and the team began proposing theories, none of which could be proven or displayed, leaving them with little idea of what the remaining objects really did.

    The decanter and the chalice were stored away in Cal''s Personal Pack, joining the majority of the sirensilk. The singular black, cloth glove was soft to the touch and had a texture similar to velvet. Try as they might, they were unable to discover any of its properties and settled on another game of paper-scissors-rock to decide its ownership.

    Fritz, of course, won it easily, and slipped the soft glove over his right hand, admiring its dark shimmer.

    "Looks stupid," Bert grumbled enviously.

    "You''re stupid," Fritz replied offhandedly. "And now that all that is out of the way, shall I regale you with what I have discovered of the Doors?"

    "Only if you can do so without sounding so pompous," Bert grumbled further.

    "Impossible," Fritz smirked.

    "Fine, but we should let Toby and Jane listen in," Bert said. "They might need the warnings."

    Fritz rankled at the suggestion, but soon realised it wouldn''t really matter, the two were either coming with them or taking another Door, it couldn''t hurt to let them hear what he had found.

    The pair of turncoats joined them after Bert called to them, George offered his seat to Jane while Toby dragged his own chair over. Fritz waited for them to settle, sitting in studious silence.

    "Now, the first thing you may have noticed about the Doors is-"

    "There''s four of them?'' Toby interrupted drily. "A little obvious."

    Fritz merely stared at the man blandly and stated, "If you don''t want to hear my wisdom you need not."

    "Sorry," Toby said, after Jane punched him lightly on the arm, and he realised the rest of the team were frowning at him.

    "Anyway," Fritz continued. "There are four doors, one of which is what I assume is a Hidden Door. Unfortunately, it''s locked and beyond our means to break it, if their steel is the same as the doors below us. Which means there''s only three real choices."

    "The first is a swamp, likely filled with the bog-man-alikes Sapphire mentioned to you, Lauren. The other two are beaches, one cool and one warm. I felt more danger from the rightmost Floor, so I believe that Door has more monsters. It also had a similar feel to the first floor with all the leaping lobsters."

    "I would take the vote on which Door to make now, but there is a more pressing vote to cast," Fritz announced gravely. "Whether we are going to take Toby and Jane with us, risking the spite. Or leave them here, potentially leading to their deaths."

    The team knew this decision was coming and had to be made, but he stated the obvious anyway, to drive home the ramifications of their votes.

    "They need not make their case again, we''ve heard it all already," Fritz said dispassionately. "If you want to let them Climb with us, spite be damned, speak now."

    Lauren Raised a hand, saying, "I can''t countenance leaving them here, not in her condition."

    George joined her, "It wouldn''t be right to leave them both behind."

    Surprisingly Cal raised his arm next, "Without them, we may have died in the fight, they turned it in our favour. They deserve some reward for that."

    Rosie, seeing which way Cal was voting, added her own hand to the air. "I agree with the others. And she''s a healer. That could save us in a pinch."

    With a sigh, Fritz reluctantly joined with his own vote, "Leaving them here would be almost the same as murdering them. Indirectly. And I can''t do that. No matter if they deserve it or not."

    Bert raised his hand just a moment after Fritz and when they looked to him for his explanation he just shrugged.

    Fritz heard a loud sniffling and turned to find that not just Jane was weeping, but Toby too. He was heaving like he had run a race while hot tears ran down from his puffy red eyes.

    "Tha- tha- thank you," he choked out trying to speak between sobs as Jane buried her face in his chest and he wrapped her protectively in his cloak.

    Fritz was startled at the reactions, he had thought they''d take it in stride, keeping up that hard front, not break down, baring their true feelings. The sight before him forced him to face his hurt heart, nearly shedding tears of his own, and he was glad he hadn''t had to kill them.

    Fritz reflected that if he had actually wanted to leave them behind he wouldn''t have included them in the circle, or let everyone see their pitiable, scared faces, or see them as Climbers just like them. It was too late for that though. In fact, considering that the great stone that sat in his gut had seemingly vanished, he was proud that his team was filled with such upstanding individuals who would risk their lives when it was the right thing to do. Betrayal or no.

    Even as he thought that, he hardened his heart, and sharpened his gaze. Just because he''d chosen to let them join didn''t mean he wouldn''t watch them, wouldn''t be ready for a sudden shift in loyalty. This really was their last chance, and looking into Toby''s eyes it seemed he knew that too.

    "Before you can join us, you must swear oaths," Fritz declared, once the tears had died down.

    "What?" Jane asked.

    "Are you a king now?" Toby asked.

    "Merely a lord doing his due duty," Fritz said smugly, and was surprised by a joyous trill from his Dusksong. "I must have your promises to do no harm to the team and enact no further treachery."

    "I don''t know why you''d bother. If you don''t believe us already our words won''t do much," Toby argued.

    "Maybe not, but it would reassure us," Fritz replied. "Isn''t that right?"

    The team nodded.

    "Fine," Toby said. "I swear."

    "You can do better than that," Fritz scoffed.

    "Fine, I promise not to harm you or your team," he elaborated, though Fritz felt none of the sincerity he had felt when his own team had sworn their oaths.

    "Not good enough," Fritz said, some agitation laced with Dusksong creeping into his tone. "You have to mean it."

    "What do you want us to swear to?" Jane asked softly.

    "Bert, repeat your oath, it should do fine," Fritz said.

    "You are my captain, and I follow where you lead. I''ll obey your orders when you give them. This I swear," he recited with a grin. Fritz was somewhat surprised the man had remembered the whole thing, he didn''t even have any points aligned to memory.

    Jane and Toby looked to each other, the doubt in their eyes glittering. After a moment of intimate staring and invisible conversation, they nodded solemnly and repeated the oath.

    This time the words rang true and promise took hold, he could nearly feel the weight of it settle over their shoulders, around their necks, like manacles. With a small flex of Dusksong those ephemeral bonds grew barbs, hooks that set slightly around their Sanctums, ready to cut and puncture should they seek to shirk their vow.

    Then the feeling was gone, like smoke in the wind and the light after sunset.

    Now that it had been done and their fates settled in truth, Fritz relaxed and asked, "Did you take anything good from your former crew?"

    "Some things," Toby hedged.

    "We had to leave some stuff behind, like the books," Jane added. "They were heavy and we didn''t know if they were really worth anything, so we only took the supplies we needed and the obvious Treasures."

    "Did you get that water shield bracer off of Fred?" Fritz asked offhandedly.

    "I did," Toby said. "But his hammer was flung away, couldn''t find that, and his armour would have taken too long to strip off of him."

    "Well, put the Treasures and anything useful on the table, we need to divide the spoils," Fritz ordered.

    It looked as though Toby and Jane wanted to argue but the two looked at each other and sighed.

    "Come on, stop being so greedy," Bert chided jovially. "Anything you looted from them belongs to all of us, we all fought."

    "We''ll be fair," Lauren reassured them, though her eyes did glint with embers and avarice, something the two noticed right away, being greedy sneaks themselves.

    Soon they were laying out all they had ''found''. The first item set down was the rainsteel bracer, next was the burned woman''s daggers though Toby looked loath to part with them. After that, there were two rings and a pendant attached to a coarse line of twine. Lastly, there was Jasper''s staff, thankfully saved from being swept away.

    "That''s a lot of gear, is there a limit to how many we can wear and use?" Rosie asked, in a show of unusual curiosity.

    "Yes and no," Lauren said. "Some magics interfere with one another, especially if they have opposite alignments. And some Abilities serve the same purposes and will clash if both are activated together, such as two barriers trying to use the same space or two boons that enhance the body in similar or differing ways."

    "Say something like Aspect of the Bear and Aspect of the Hare used together could interfere with each other, reducing their effectiveness. Or a Fire Barrier and a Water Barrier being so opposed might just explode with steam. The energies produced from the magical friction can be...volatile. This causes duplicate and similar Treasures to be somewhat redundant or downright dangerous," she lectured to the rapt attention of the team.

    Then Lauren shrugged. "Though, after taking that cut, another barrier to use after the first wouldn''t go amiss."

    "Greedy," Fritz said with a sly smile, which she returned.

    "Is this also true of our own Abilities?" Jane asked.

    "Somewhat," Lauren said. "Though as they are made of your own mana, most Abilities wont interfere unless they''re oppositely aligned. And even then, that could be remedied by a Trait or Technique. Take the Fire Barrier and Water Barrier from before, if you were careful, and well practised, you could create some kind of Steam Barrier rather than an explosion. You might even create a Technique for doing so, though that''s very rare."

    "Very interesting," Fritz said, meaning it and contemplating on how to do something similar with his own Powers. Though he soon realised he might have already been doing so with his Senses. The rest however didn''t serve the same roles at all and wouldn''t be able to be used in such a way as Lauren''s example.

    "So do we know what these do?" George asked, waving a hand over the pile and drawing the team''s attention back to the important subject of Treasure.

    "The bracer is some sort of water shield, has a reactive element too from what I saw," Lauren said.

    "Reactive?" Cal asked.

    "Activates on their own when certain conditions are met," Lauren explained. "Like this bracer did when its wielder was in danger."

    "Sounds very useful," Jane said.

    "They are most of the time, sometimes though they can be a liability, like all predictable things," Lauren said.

    Fritz nodded at that, it could be easy to trick such a Treasure if you knew exactly how to make it react, possibly forcing an opponent off guard. Which is why he didn''t contest the bracer going to George.

    As was pointed out by Cal and Bert, the bracer didn''t conflict with the man''s fighting style and the water disc complemented his copperchange sword, allowing him to switch stances quickly, from greatsword to sword and board in a moment, if the situation required it.

    George grumbled a little about being made into a pseudo-Defender, but was soon mocked for his stubbornness. He took the good-natured jeering in stride, replacing his iron bracer with the Treasure as he scowled in an exaggerated manner.

    "It''s for the best, George," Fritz consoled the armoured man. "You can''t just Sever everything."

    "You don''t know that, we haven''t tried," George said with a wry smile and a twinkle in his eye.

    Fritz laughed.

    Next to be assigned was another dull barrier ring, which went to Cal, who was the last one without a defensive Treasure. The second ring, a small band of carved wood, was handed to Bert as, according to Toby, it had an Ability to attract spears and arrows in flight while also rendering some resistance to puncture wounds.

    "No shaft shall pass me by, I''ll take them all," Bert boasted.

    Fritz rolled his eyes, while others shook their heads or choked out laughs.

    "What''s so funny?" Bert grinned, knowing full well what he had said. "This will save lives, and keep me from becoming a pin cushion. It''s very serious."

    "Very serious," George agreed, smiling wide.

    The pendant was taken from Jasper, and Toby and Jane had no idea what it did, having never seen it in action. It was also devoid of mana and must have been drained dry beforehand. The team decided not to test it out as they were already running low on gold, even with the addition of the twenty gold triads Toby and Jane had found in the packs not belonging to them.

    Eventually, they just stored the pendant away in Fritz''s pack.

    The largest of the Treasures and likely the most powerful, save the club that was drowned with its owner, was Jasper''s gnarled wooden staff. They had at least seen this powerful item in action, being the origin of the protective dome. Again this Treasure was drained, completely empty of mana due to its use during the firestorm and fight.

    "I heard this is expensive to re-fill," Jane hedged.

    "Yeah, Larry was furious when we had to use it," Toby added darkly. "After the fire, he said he''d have the sixty triads from your hides."

    "Sixty triads!" Bert exclaimed, which was echoed by Fritz and Cal. Rosie hissed and Lauren''s eyes bulged.

    "Per activation," Toby nodded morosely.

    "Where did he even get something like this," Lauren asked.

    "It''s not from Rain City," Jane said. "I think it was smuggled in by the Nightshark, part of their collection to be loaned out to those with ''high prospects''."

    "Explains why it''s so powerful. We shouldn''t get too attached to it, we''ll likely have to hand it back," Fritz predicted.

    Toby and Jane nodded vehemently at his statement.

    "It''ll buy you some favour if you return it, that''s for sure," Jane agreed.

    "For now, Cal, you can store it away, safely," Fritz ordered.

    Cal took the staff gingerly, then the air around its gnarled wood twisted and in a blink, it disappeared.

    "Secretly," Fritz said drily, glancing meaningfully at Toby and Jane.

    Then he sighed.

    "Whoops," Cal said abashedly.

    Toby and Jane looked to each other, but didn''t ask any questions about the Ability they just witnessed. Still, it looked like that cat was out of the bag, and soon they were on to deciding what to do with the very last Treasures.

    The two daggers, while valuable and deadly, weren''t particularly desired or needed by Fritz or his team, so they let Toby and Jane split them between themselves. Though it made him uneasy to arm them with such powerful weapons, without them they wouldn''t even have the daggers. And they were being gracious about the other Treasures being distributed to people they didn''t know. Not a word of complaint, which did make it feel like they were joining the team in truth.

    One of the weapons was a blade of shining silver with an elegant hilt holding a single sapphire. It had a Sever-like Ability, and must have been the one Lauren had been caught on the wrong side of. And the other dagger was merely magical, it was made of dark, polished wood rather than metal, though it was none the less sharp and strong for its odd material. Toby, of course, took the Imbued blade while Jane took the other, though she handed it right back to him anyway, which was to be expected.

    Finally, there were the Techniques, but they had no room to practice them and little want to dwell in the Well room for more than a day of rest. Obviously, the sword tiles went to George and he laid them out, studying them to glean their mysteries while the team talked.

    The other Technique required the use of magic to truly grasp it, and in the small confines of the sitting room, any spell cast would likely splash someone. And so it was left in Bert''s pack for now. Though Fritz did have the thought to use it in conjunction with the sea-mist necklace, he rightfully didn''t as it would burn up their stash of gold, which would be needed to re-fill more important Treasures on the next floors if his gut was to be trusted.

    With the loot dealt with, and the decision to bring Toby and Jane along, braving the spite, the conversation soon turned to which Door to choose. Fritz reiterated what he had felt, being his usual, vague self so as not to reveal his Door Sense.

    "So, a swamp and likely those bog-men, an easy beach, or a rocky one with danger like the leaping lobsters?" Cal summarised, helpfully.

    "You''ve got pretty good senses, Fritz," Toby observed.

    "What? Jasper wasn''t able to do the same?" Fritz asked.

    "He could, but it was all wind this and wind that. He couldn''t tell the relative dangers. Like you can," Toby said.

    Fritz shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."

    "Sure," Toby said darkly.

    There was a small lull in the talk, which Fritz broke with the important question.

    "Before we choose which Door. What do we know about the spite?"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 54

    The mention of the spite soured the expressions of Fritz''s entire team, save Bert who merely seemed interested.

    "Makes the floors harder," Rosie stated simply, from where she sat in their circle of armchairs and desks.

    "Yes but do we know how it does that?" Fritz asked.

    "More monsters?" Cal hedged.

    "More traps?" George suggested.

    "New rules, sense shrouding, and the beasts will be more aware of our presence," Lauren provided.

    "Oh, is that all?" Fritz asked drily.

    "No, though those are the most reported effects of the spite," Lauren said, not missing his sarcasm but ignoring it completely.

    "So with that in mind, we should take the safest Door?" Jane asked.

    "I have to agree," Fritz said. "At least until we know what the spite can throw at us."

    "It''ll be good practice," Bert said. "Accidents happen, crew die, we''ll have to face the spite sooner or later."

    "A bit morbid, Bert," Fritz said. "Fatalistic even."

    Bert shrugged. "It happens."

    "It does," Rosie said. "Sometimes life just puts the screws to you."

    "True as the rain," Toby agreed.

    Rosie smiled at him and Jane shifted her chair closer to his, giving the scaly woman a warning glance that she completely missed, or ignored.

    "So it seems we''re all agreed with the middle Door then," Fritz summarised. "Unless we want to brave a swamp filled with man-alikes or a rocky shore infested with monsters."

    His team shook their heads, save Bert who nodded eagerly.

    "Well, it''s settled then. We''ll rest the night before taking the middle door. We need it after that fight, or at least I do," Fritz said, leaning into his green armchair and letting out a sigh.

    "Agreed there," Toby said. "I could sleep for a week."

    With that, the team separated, finding space to place down their bedrolls, maintain their gear and sort their equipment, new and old.

    From the corner of his eye, Fritz spied Toby secret away the ''Juggernaut elixir'' he had meant to give to Larry. Somehow it had not been offered up with the rest of the Treasures.

    Fritz wouldn''t let this lie, and approached Toby and Jane''s corner with a bland smile plastered across his face. They looked up apprehensively, more fear than hostility.

    "The juggernaut elixir," Fritz requested amiably, holding out his hand.

    Toby narrowed his eyes for a moment, before sighing, pulling the thick, glass flask out from a pack and handing it to Fritz.

    The elixir was surprisingly heavy, like the metallic fluid within was made of liquid lead in truth. Fritz hefted it thoughtfully, appreciating its weight.

    "Any reason you didn''t present this before?" Fritz asked.

    Toby scowled, but he soon smoothed his brow and replied. "Honestly I forgot. I was distracted by all the other Treasures and only just found it in my pocket."

    "And the reason you decided to hide it after you discovered it again?"

    "Old habits die hard," he stated darkly, truthfully.

    Fritz could empathise, he himself had many secrets and a deep desire to hide away precious things born of the fear of losing them. However, that didn''t mean that he could be lenient, especially to these two.

    "Well, learn to be better," Fritz said seriously. "You two can''t afford to look suspicious, not if you want to stay on for more than one floor."

    Toby gulped down some biting retort, and instead said, "Sorry. You''re right."

    "I know," Fritz said. "Though let''s not dwell too long on that. I need you two to tell me what kind of Abilities you have so you can aid the team properly. Jane, are you still a healer?"

    "Yes, Medic Path. I have a Path Ability, Salve Pain. It does what it says and since I evolved it it also increases stamina recovery. I also have increased Lifewell from a Trait," Jane easily revealed. "Oh, and a Passive that increases Reflex. And for offence I have Water Bolt."

    "A wonderful set of Powers," Fritz said, not having to lie. "Toby? What sneaky skills did you pick up?"

    Toby glanced to Jane and she nodded sternly.

    "I took the Shanker Path," Toby admitted. "Still have my Lacerate, but now I also have Venom Strike and a Technique Tara taught me that shrouds my daggers from Senses. Got a movement Ability, Shadow Slink, that lets me dart quickly from shadow to shadow and I also have Dark Vision and Sanguine Sight."

    Fritz considered for a moment, tossing up whether to ask to be taught the Technique, but decided against it. While he wielded his dagger well and often, he was more comfortable with the sword and saw himself mastering it in time. A Technique like the one Toby knew would just muddle his fighting style even further. That, and there really wasn''t the time to train it.

    "Sanguine Sight sounds fearsome," Fritz said, with only a hint of envy.

    "It''s... interesting. I can see a creature''s veins and heart through their skin, good for finding weak points," Toby explained with a smirk.

    "You also have Speed," Fritz said, trying to confirm what he had guessed during their fight.

    "Yes, and Reflex, not that it helped much," Toby grumbled rubbing at his chest. "Ran me right through even though you''re slower than me. You''re a slippery bastard you know that. Couldn''t even touch you, no matter how quick I stabbed. How''d you manage that?" He added wryly as if praising him. Though the words could only be considered a compliment by his dark standards.

    "The benefits of high honour and great gallantry," Fritz said, soaking his tone in self-satisfaction.

    "Just how high did you climb?" Toby asked.

    "Never you mind," Fritz said. "Now, any other Treasures and potions you may have forgotten to mention?"

    Jane held up her hand, showing off a dull ring that was a twin to his own.

    "Fairly common, aren''t they," Fritz said displaying his ring as well.

    "One of the most common Defensive Treasures," Lauren said, politely barging into the conversation. "Though that doesn''t make them any less valuable. For one, the king pays a good price for them. Each of his Scale Guard are equipped with one, or something better. For two, there are still fewer of them than there are Climbers, which means we''re lucky to have them, especially seeing as we''re all Rookies."

    Jane eyed the other woman warily, glancing between her and Toby. When Lauren didn''t so much as look at her man, she narrowed her eyes.

    "What do you want?" She asked Lauren flat out.

    The striking, if a little frazzled, fire mage frowned only slightly and smiled prettily. She put one pale hand into a robe pocket and pulled out some ration bars, these of far better quality than Fritz and the rest of the team were suffering through.

    "Just something to pad your diet," Lauren said. "You''re eating for two."

    "Why do you care?" Jane asked acidly. "Is this some ''us women should stick together'' skulg-slime? Trying to cosy up to me so I''ll heal you or something?"

    If Lauren was offended she didn''t show it, much, the small crease between her brows deepening only slightly.

    "I just want to keep you healthy," Lauren stated. "These are, by all accounts, better than the rations the rest of us will have to eat. More nutritious and easier eating."

    "Less sawdust," Rosie added, shouldering in to stand beside Lauren. She smiled slyly at Toby, who deftly ignored her and her stare.

    "A quick question, Lauren," Fritz said.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Yes?"

    "Children don''t have Sanctums and can''t enter Spires," Fritz continued. "Why-"

    "Why can Jane enter?" She cut him off. "It''s because the Spires don''t count the unborn as people. Not until they''re... out."

    "What if they''re born in a spire? Are they ejected?" Fritz asked.

    "Then they''re born as normal," Lauren shrugged. "And when they reach a Well room they are ejected with whoever is considered their guardian."

    "Huh," Bert said, revealing his eavesdropping to all.

    "It''s frowned upon to enter a Spire with child, if outright forbidden in other kingdoms," Lauren explained. "Though there are also some cultures who view it as the height of honour to be born within a Spire, despite the terrible risk, or rather because of it. I''ve heard that there''s even a Spire Born latent Trait, though that''s mostly rumour."

    "Who would do something like that? On purpose?" Jane asked aghast.

    "The Krakosi would," Fritz grumbled, which caused his team to flinch.

    "I''ve also heard rumour of select noble families possibly partaking in such a ''tradition''," Lauren hedged. "Though it is kept quiet, and not spoken of in public."

    "I''ve heard similar," Fritz said. "It could account for the prevalence of the Merfolk Strain in Rain City''s nobility."

    "Perhaps," Lauren allowed.

    "No Spire Born trait for you?" Bert teased.

    "No, nothing of the sort," Fritz sighed.

    "Just all your Guide''s-son benefits," Toby groused.

    "All too true I''m afraid," Fritz said smugly. "That, and the great privilege of not having one half of my heritage be skulg."

    "Arsehole," Toby murmured.

    "We''ve meandered away from my initial question," Fritz said smiling at the insult. "Were there any other potions and Treasures you managed to loot?"

    "There are two healing potions and there are some heating potions to ward off cold," Jane said.

    "No water breathing?" Fritz asked.

    "Oh, there are plenty of those too," Jane said.

    "What sort of materials did you manage to scavenge on your Climb? Fritz asked.

    "Not much, Larry and Jasper wanted to get through as quick as possible for some reason," Toby said. "And what we had gathered was rather heavy, we didn''t grab the packs full of leather and shells. But we did snatch this," he added, opening a head-sized stack three-quarters filled with shimmering pearls.

    "Nice find," Bert said greedily.

    "Apart from that and what you''ve already seen, that''s it," Toby said, and Fritz got the impression he was being truthful. This time.

    "Got what you needed from us?" Jane asked. "Because if you''re satisfied I''d like to get some sleep."

    "Very well," Fritz said, "No more questions, for now."

    He turned and left, beckoning the rest of his team to follow. They did; Rosie reluctantly and with a small limp; Bert with a shoulder slap for Toby; and Lauren with a few soft words while handing a wrapped bundle to Jane, who nodded thankfully.

    "Rosie," Fritz said suddenly as they strode away.

    "Yes?" she asked confused.

    "Are you okay? You''re limping," Fritz said with some concern.

    "I''m fine, I''m tough," Rosie said proudly, hammering a fist over her breast.

    "Of course, just thought I''d ask," he said "You took a powerful strike in that fight. I''m surprised you''re still walking."

    "As I said, I''m tough. Got a Trait for it and everything," Rosie replied nodding. "I''ll be better soon, we''ve got two healers now they can patch me up before we leave. Once they got some rest."

    "How very gracious of you," Fritz said, meaning it.

    "That''s me, gracious," Rosie said. "Want to sleep in my bedroll tonight?"

    Fritz almost tripped and he felt heat crawl up his neck at the sheer forwardness of the offer.

    "I must decline," Fritz said smoothly. "I am spoken for. That, and it wouldn''t be wise."

    "Neither is braving the spite," Rose said with a shrug. "If we''re already not being wise there won''t be no harm in a bit of-"

    "I appreciate the offer," Fritz lied. "However, no thank you, Rosie."

    She smiled and she shrugged again, obviously not hurt by the rejection at all.

    With that, they walked to his armchair in awkward silence and he was saved by Cal waving at him over.

    Relieved he quickly made his way to his favourite Hauler.

    "What''s the matter?" Fritz asked.

    Cal smiled, and from out of thin air a bow appeared and fell into his hand.

    "Picked this up while we ran, you must have dropped it," Cal said with a smile, slight smugness lurking at the edges of his lips.

    "I must have," Fritz agreed taking the wooden haft back and slipping it into the quiver hanging on his back. An intriguing thought came to mind. "Say, Cal, up for a test?"

    Cal nodded with only some hesitation.

    "Do you think you could try storing this quiver in your Personal Pack?"

    "Sure."

    He reached out to the object, laid a hand on it, and then winced. He took his hand away rapidly, placing it on his forehead and groaning, "Ouch."

    "Are you okay?" Fritz asked worriedly, he hadn''t meant to hurt the man.

    "Yeah," Cal said. He squinted up at Fritz and continued, "Painful. It was like with the bronze chest, but worse."

    "I see," Fritz said. "Well, thank you for trying it, and sorry for the...result."

    "No complaints here captain," Cal said. "For once," He added with a self-deprecating chuckle.

    "Now, now, none of that," Fritz said. "The past is the past, you''ve been nothing but loyal, which is more than I could say for some."

    "You don''t trust ''em, but you''re still bringing them with us?" Cal asked, catching his meaning.

    "That''s right, we voted after all," Fritz replied proudly, then he sagged and spoke soberly. "It would feel wrong to do anything else."

    "A surprisingly emotional decision," George said from where he sat organising his tiles into the right order. "Not very pragmatic."

    "I think we shouldn''t confuse pragmatism for cowardice." Fritz quoted from ''The Observations'', finding its words meeting his mood. "When we have the power to do good, we should. And if doing good was easy, we wouldn''t suffer so."

    "Very nice," George said with a smile. "I like that."

    "It''s a bit high-minded for me," Bert declared, sitting heavily. "But who am I to argue with the esteemed Theodore Flynte."

    "Yes, we are merely sparks to his bonfire," Fritz exaggerated. "George, how''s the sorting going?"

    "It''s going well," he replied. "Should have it done in an hour or two."

    "Good man," Fritz said. "And Bert have you had any success with the Mystic Arts of mist?"

    "Not yet," Bert grinned. "Just trying out the stances and forms, they''re very..."

    "Delicate?" Fritz guessed.

    "Flighty and flimsy," Bert corrected. "Really they''d suit you far better. The Arte Pugilist doesn''t fit well with the Technique."

    "Ah, too bad," Fritz said reconsidering the mist Technique and feeling it might be a good placeholder until he found his own sword style.

    Ideally, he''d want to create a Sword Technique himself, but knew in his heart that he was no prodigy or great genius. Sure he was cleverer than most, and intensely witty, if he did say so himself, which he did. But it wasn''t hard to be better than the dregs he''d found himself associating with. No, his advantages mainly lay in his upbringing, before the tragedy. Everything else was built upon the teachings of his father and the charms he inherited from his mother.

    He wondered what she''d think of him now, and a deep, heavy melancholy rose from his gut, creeping and pulling him towards the ground.

    He wasn''t allowed to dwell for long, he was suddenly startled back into the conversation by the mention of his name.

    "Fritz, are you listening?" Rosie asked.

    "Hmm?" Fritz hummed, returning his attention to his team around him.

    "I said: did you feel that?" She stated.

    "No, I didn''t feel anything," Fritz admitted. "Though, I was distracted."

    "Are you sure you''re entirely suited to being a Scout?" Lauren asked. "Sometimes you get...distant."

    "What else could I possibly be suited for?"

    "You''d make a good jester," Bert provided.

    "What?" Fritz said, feigning offence.

    "Yeah, I could see that," Cal agreed. "Just strap some bells to him."

    "Or I could wear your ridiculous hat," Fritz retorted. "Would make me look quite the fool."

    "Don''t be mean," Rosie said, punching Fritz lightly on the shoulder. "It''s his first nice hat."

    "Yeah, Fritz, don''t be jealous," Bert said.

    Fritz rolled his eyes internally, but upon seeing Cal''s badly hidden hurt he decided to apologise. Not because the hat looked any good at all, but because Rosie was right, it was one of the man''s first ''nice'' possessions and it wouldn''t do to tease him for it even if he hated how bright it was and how the feather swayed stupidly.

    "My apologies, it wouldn''t be a hat suited to a fool at all," Fritz said.

    Cal nodded in acceptance and smiled.

    It was then that Fritz felt what Rosie must have been talking about. An odd sensation of almost imperceptible vertigo or rather a similar smothering of Senses that he had felt in the Floor below. It seemed the spite worked fast, it had barely been nine minutes and already he could feel some slight effect.

    "One moment, I need to check something," Fritz said frowning, standing, then striding towards the Doors.

    He brushed his Awareness and Door Sense over them and could already feel the resistance, the clouding, of his impressions. He could still feel the Floors beyond, but it was more difficult to picture, hazy. And he noticed things had changed, the rocky shore for one tried to hide that it was filled with monsters, while the swamp door''s bog-man-alikes looked more frail and less fearsome.

    A trick to make me underestimate the dangers within.

    "Has to be the spite," Fritz muttered to himself.

    "Already?" Toby asked, nearly causing Fritz to jump. The man was as quiet as cat when he walked.

    "Already," Fritz said, grimacing. "The shrouding is not so bad right now, though I heard it grows worse over time."

    Toby mirrored the grimace, though his was more profound. That of an expert malcontent rather than a dabbler in doom like Fritz.

    "So we need to get moving, and quickly?" Toby asked.

    "We''ll rest. Pushing ourselves right now would harm more than help us," Fritz said absolutely. "Make sure Jane gets some sleep, her healing will be invaluable."

    Toby looked like he wanted to say something scathing, but he held his tongue. Seemingly he''d learned to keep his mouth shut or rather, and far more likely, he realised his precipitous position.

    "I''ll do that," he said, turning and leaving Fritz by himself.

    With a sigh, Fritz returned to his team and ordered them to rest.

    "Bert, you''re on first watch," he declared, slipping into his bedroll and into the comfort of the sirensilk.

    While he lay there he fell into his Sanctum, there was one last choice to make.

    It was raining, he was standing before his willow, its long grey branches and dark, whispering leaves shading him from the falling water. Glyphs hovered in front of him and he considered what would be needed through the next Doors and the spite.

    ---------

    Ability Evolution

    Choose One

    ---------

    ---

    Lethargy

    ---

    Trap Sense

    ---

    Danger Sense

    ---

    ---------

    Improving Lethargy wouldn''t help much in their current spite-fuelled predicament so he discounted Evolving that potent Ability for now. With that out of his way, he was torn between the two Senses. Though he had to concede that the more general warnings of Danger Sense were more appealing than the more limited scope of Trap Sense. While both were life-saving Abilities he felt he had to err on the side of versatility for now.

    He chose Danger Sense and the glyphs changed and hummed softly in a new tone.

    ---------

    Ability Evolution

    Danger Sense

    Choose One

    ---------

    Warden''s Instinct

    Danger Sense may be anchored to one ally, you will sense harm done to them as though you were in their place.

    ---

    Shrewd Sense

    Danger Sense is less susceptible to shrouds and deception.

    ---

    Discerning Sense

    Danger Sense''s warnings will reveal more about incoming harm.

    ---

    Each of the Evolutions had their uses, two of them just made Danger Sense better at what it did while one added a new utility to it.

    Being able to Danger Sense for someone else was intriguing. Very effective for keeping a vulnerable member of the team safe or perhaps serve as a rudimentary message Ability if the anchored person was willing to stab themselves. Though it was an interesting addition, he decided against the Warden''s Instinct Evolution. He wasn''t comfortable putting someone in the position of harming themselves, that, and he didn''t exactly want to be someone''s bodyguard either.

    It was a toss-up between Discerning Sense and Shrewd Sense. He quickly landed on taking Shrewd Sense, as the most trouble he''d been having when fighting was from strikes shrouded by Abilities, Traits and Techniques. And it would hopefully help him against the spite.

    He chose, and the power seeped into his Sanctum, his willow''s branches stretched, the twigs and leaves splayed outwards, creeping and caressing the rainy wind, like fingers subtly searching for secrets.

    With his Evolution taken care of, he turned to his last task before he could rest in truth.

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    With the spite in effect, Fritz felt he would need to align more to his sensory Attributes to fulfil his role as Scout. And now that his mind was clearer than it had ever been, due to his Focus and Control, Fritz decided to progress his long ignored Awareness and Perception. Though he did so with caution aligning one to Focus, Awareness and Perception so as not to skew his Attributes too much.

    The world bent for a moment, before coming into slightly sharper relief. There was barely any vertigo from the change, likely due to his reserved approach to his alignments, but also the fact his Attributes were already high in those particular areas.

    Finally, he relaxed, then flew out from under the branches, escaping the rain.

    He stretched his body, inhaled deeply and lay his face on his wonderful, siren-feather pillow. It only took seconds for sleep to claim him.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 55

    Fritz awoke to the hustle and bustle of breakfast, or dinner, it could be either. The outside time really didn''t bear much relevance on the rest and meal times of Climbers. He knew it was good to set up routines for the team to go through so as not to lose their daily rhythms. But eventually, with an hour here and an hour there slipping by unnoticed, they would be completely out of sync with the world beyond the Spire''s walls.

    He groaned and stretched, feeling strangely groggy, and was somewhat surprised no one had woken him. He sat up and inquired to the closest team member why they hadn''t.

    "Scouts and Healers need their rest, or that''s what Bert said, and Toby agreed," George said.

    "I don''t remember elevating Toby to any rank of command," Fritz yawned.

    "What?" Cal asked, handing him a bowl of stew.

    "I mean, I didn''t put him in charge of anything," Fritz rephrased.

    George shrugged. "He seems to know what he''s doing."

    "That''s the problem. Seems to. He might be completely clueless or trying to sabotage us," Fritz posited.

    "Isn''t it too early for paranoia," Bert said as he strutted over.

    "It''s never too early for paranoia, you know that. How many times has my profound prudence saved us?"

    "Once, maybe," Bert allowed with a grin.

    "And that''s all it needs to do to be worth listening to," Fritz said, trying his bowl of bland-looking ration stew. "Oh, Cal, this is dreadful. It tastes like equal parts fish guts and sawdust."

    "With a hint of overripe mango, I know," Cal said matter-of-factly. "Don''t bother complaining, Captain. It''s the best I can do with what we''ve got."

    Cal was really starting to come into his own in the role of the team''s cook. So much so, that he was now berating Fritz rather than the other way around. It was good to see, the man needed to build his confidence, otherwise, he might end up as sour as Toby. And no one wanted that.

    "All so formal, is this another of Toby''s suggestions?" Fritz asked.

    "No, it was mine," Bert said, his grin fading a little. "It''s all well and good to have some camaraderie, however, we really should be tightening ship."

    When Fritz looked at him questioningly Bert continued in a whisper only he could hear.

    "It''ll help keep the other two in line, make us feel more like a solid team. Less cracks for them to pry at."

    "We are a solid team," Fritz whispered back.

    "We are," Bert conceded. "But it''ll also be good practise for the Rain Spire. We don''t want to Climb that one while looking and sounding like first-timers. We should be planting those habits, just like it says in ''The Observations''."

    Fritz mulled the suggestion over for a moment before agreeing. "True as the rain," he said, nodding once. "We should also change up our formations, now that we have two extra hands."

    Bert nodded.

    After Fritz finished his breakfast, he got to work packing and sorting his gear while also refilling his barrier ring with two triads. He made sure each of his team used their limited gold on their Defensive Treasures. They didn''t need much convincing, having faced great danger already and being aware of the peril the spite could bring.

    It was unfortunate that they had such little gold left, with sixty-two triads between them they couldn''t fill all their Treasures to full capacity. And while they could fill the empty ''dome stick'', as they had come to call Jasper''s staff, they decided against it. The team had concluded that, no matter how useful and powerful the dome was, that it would be more beneficial, and cheap, to restore their personal Treasures. So they made do with what they had, leaving them with twelve triads, and most of their Imbued items with at least two thirds or one activation remaining.

    Soon they were ready to take the middle Door, brave the cold atolls, and perhaps, if the spite wasn''t as oppressive as they were led to believe, they could catch some fish. Even if the sharks and deep denizens he had felt through the Door may not be quite the level of monsters, their meat would still be fresh and far better eating than the frankly foul stew he had for breakfast. They might even be monsters, might even be delicious, though he didn''t dare to hope as such. That would make the Floor harder than he predicted.

    "Toby, you''re something of a striker-scout?" Fritz asked rhetorically.

    "About right," Toby agreed without snark.

    "Then you''ll come through just after me, we''re the vanguard. Skirmish and flee back to the team if we can''t handle what we come across."

    He nodded.

    "Jane you''re in the middle with Lauren, between the two of you, you have quite a bit of healing and magical devastation. Rosie, you watch their backs. George and Bert, you''re the Defender Striker tag team. Cal, you''ll be in the middle but lend you support where you can."

    The team split into their pairings, and while Fritz was no tactician he thought that he''d covered their weakness as well as could be. And with their collection of Treasures, there wouldn''t likely be much that could harm them. In their current, rested, powerful state Fritz would even feel confident taking on the Great Hound again. Maybe.

    Fritz strode forth, up the soft sand ramp and into cold air. He shuddered slightly but continued his ascent, breaching the surface and stepping a couple of steps forward, waiting for Toby to appear through the hole in the sand. He didn''t have to wait more than a minute, just as they had planned.

    Toby glanced around, pulled his cloak close and nodded once in acknowledgement.

    "Bleak," was all he said.

    He was right. The sky was a dark, dull grey, threatening rain and the ocean around the pale, sandy shore sloshed with slowly crashing waves of deep blue. The water roared softly and the wind blew over it with a light shriek. Nothing else moved, even the sand was reluctant to be swept away by the freezing breeze. Fritz wished he had a warm coat, but settled for pulling out and tying a length of blue-grey sirensilk as a cape. It fluttered in the wind, rippling like the ocean in the distance, and surprisingly it took the edge off the chill despite the fabulous fabric''s thinness.

    The bank where they stood stretched for miles, connecting sporadically to the other islands and atolls. Fritz flexed his stifled Awareness and pulsed his Door Sense, to his mild excitement he felt a resonance, a distant response from over the waves. He knew vaguely which direction to go, if not the distance. However, the route would be winding and likely treacherous if the spite had anything to say about it.

    "Want to use one of these dowsers? " Toby asked. "I heard that they work better for those with Awareness and I have some to spare. There were these two left in Jasper''s pack," he added producing one of the navigational items.

    "I might as well," Fritz said taking the outstretched wand of wood.

    He activated it and the thrumming trill of the response was far more clear. He let the dowser pull him so he faced the Door. Using his amplified Awareness, he was able to guess the distance to the Door, roughly thirty miles away. With some effort and fortuitous weather, it could take only a days march to reach it. If they could swim straight to the Stairway it could be even less, though Fritz knew that the cold water would drain them far more than walking, and they would be easy prey for the sharks.

    The wand snapped in two. Toby scowled when he saw the direction Fritz was facing and the rough, sea beyond.

    "We''ll have to cross the water?" He asked. "Swim the whole way?"

    "Maybe," Fritz said. "Let''s check the water first, once the crew come through."

    As if summoned by his words the rest of the team shuffled up the stairway and gathered around in a circle. They shivered, and upon seeing Fritz''s makeshift cape soon emulated him. In a minute they were all adorned in sirensilk. Bert in red, Cal in green, Lauren in gold, George in yellow and Rosie in silver. Jane shuddered pathetically and Bert was quick to wrap her in a shawl of orange.

    "Thank you," she said marvelling at the silk. "Is this what I think it is?"

    "If you think it''s sirensilk then, yes," Fritz said with a smirk.

    "No wonder you wouldn''t let us look in your bags," Jane said. "Just the bit you''ve given me is worth a fortune."

    "Lent to you," Bert corrected, but he was grinning.

    "Thank you all the same," Jane repeated pulling the luxurious cloth around her.

    "And now that you all stand out like squids wearing shoes. I will check the shore while Toby keeps a watch," Fritz declared. "Try not to find any trouble while I''m gone."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    With a smirk on his face, Fritz turned his back on the chorus of scoffing and lighthearted jeers, and strode to the shore.

    Three minutes later, he was by the choppy waters, testing them with his hand. Freezing, though not quite the numbing cold of a blizzard. Within the waves, deep within, Fritz thought he could see small shadows, differing outlines in the familiar shapes of sharks.

    Fritz pulsed his Senses and found that his impression of the Stairway had faded, the direction was still guessable but the distance was unknowable. Chiding himself for his forgetfulness, he pulled out the small wooden box containing his compass. He opened it, not expecting any real aid from the object but was, for once, pleasantly surprised. The needle pointed unerringly to his right, leading the way north.

    He wondered why the object''s ability to navigate wasn''t shrouded by the spite, but reserved that question for when he returned to his team. Deciding to see what the shore to the north held in its waters Fritz made his way there and peered into the waves. Again, small sharks circled in schools, or packs, which, from what he knew of the beasts, was unusual. Were these monsters then? Or was this another effect of the spite? Or both?

    Having learned what he could, Fritz quickly reunited with his waiting team and began to speak.

    "The water is freezing, and infested with small sharks."

    "How small is small?" Toby asked.

    "Uh, depends how deep they were, couldn''t be longer than nine feet," Fritz hedged.

    "And that''s small?" Lauren asked with some small incredulity.

    "Definitely," Bert said.

    "Much smaller than that horrible armoured shark," Jane added with a shudder.

    Fritz smiled at that, remembering his triumph in slaying the monstrosity.

    "What are you smirking about? That thing almost took my hand off," Toby groused, showing off a long scar around his wrist. "Only Sew Wounds kept it on."

    Fritz just smiled wider while Bert grinned.

    Toby scowled.

    Before they could start bickering George cut in, "Are we swimming again?"

    "Not if I can help it," Fritz said. "As you can see, all these islands are connected, we''ll just take the longer, safer way."

    "Best thing for it, considering the spite," Rosie agreed.

    "Doesn''t the spite get worse the longer you remain in a wrong-numbered team?" George asked.

    "It can," Toby provided darkly. "I don''t know how fast though."

    "I still think we take it the slow, safe way," Fritz said. "Sprinting won''t do any good, the Door dowser gave me the impression that the door was far away. This could be another survival Floor, like the jungle. So we should consider this a test, eventually one must bear the spite, and there''s no reason to rush and get ourselves killed."

    "Yeah, I don''t really want to be eaten by sharks either," Rosie said.

    "We should turn it around, do some fishing and eat the sharks instead," Cal suggested.

    "Not a bad idea," Fritz said.

    "A great one!" Bert corrected.

    "If we have fishing line or something similar," Fritz said.

    "Could use the silk," George theorised.

    "No, let''s not do that," Lauren retorted sharply. "It''s good for many things, but not for making nets and ropes. Or at least, I''ve never heard of it being used as such."

    "There''s no need," Cal said. "Dayn gave me some fishing line and some hooks when we traded with his group. Said we should have some and we were fools for not bringing any. He would''ve also lent us a rod but his team didn''t have any to spare."

    "Will it be strong enough to pull in the sharks without snapping?" Jane asked.

    "It''s made for use in the Mer Spire," Cal said. "Made of some tough stuff, so it should be enough."

    "What a nice bloke," Bert said. "I''ll have to buy him a drink if we ever see him again."

    "The question is: do we fish now or fish later?" Fritz asked.

    "Now," Bert voted. "I don''t think I could stand another ration stew, no offence, Cal."

    "I did what I could," Cal said dejectedly. "But you''re right, let''s try now."

    "Might be able to gauge how threatening the beasts are," Toby said.

    "It would be good to know what our enemies in the ocean can do," Fritz agreed.

    The rest of the team had no problems with the proposition so they headed to the nearest shore, and prepared their lines and hooks. Without rods, they''d have to fish by hand, but with their enhanced, greater than human, strength it shouldn''t be too hard to reel in the sharks. Especially with Bert and Cal''s Momentum Attribute. It should be easy to tear them from the sea, or so Bert professed.

    That''s not what Fritz was worried about, he was worried about getting them on the hooks at all. With only the terrible rations to entice the beasts, he wasn''t sure the sharks would take the bait. This opinion was also voiced by Rosie who had tried her hand at being a fisherman before being summarily dismissed for stealing unwatched bait to take home and eat.

    They cast the ration laden lines into the sea and waited for a bite.

    "They''ll want fresh blood," she stated sagely when the lines went undisturbed for an hour. A cold dreary hour.

    "Where''s a bucket of blood when you need it," Fritz sighed.

    Bert smiled, though it was strained, and stated, "I have an idea, but you''re not going to like it."

    Fritz read his friend''s expression and quickly arrived at Bert''s idea before he spoke it aloud.

    "You want to use your blood and abuse your absurd health recovery," Fritz said. "You''re right. I don''t like it."

    "Let''s give it a go anyway," Bert said, grinning wide. "Get the pot!"

    Hesitantly Cal pulled out the iron pot from his pack and set on it the fine white sands.

    Fritz frowned but didn''t stop his friend from pulling out a knife and cutting a gash down his forearm. It would have been a waste of effort to argue, and considering the man''s Vitality it wouldn''t hurt him in the slightest.

    Less than ten drops of red trickled into the pot before the blood running down his arm darkened, thickened and slowed. Then the cut stopped bleeding entirely.

    "Huh," Bert said looking at the pitiful amount of blood spilled. "Guess I didn''t think this through."

    "You never do," Fritz said, shaking his head slowly and smiling a small smug smile.

    "I can help," Toby offered. "With Sanguine Sight and Lacerate, I should be able to slash something not vital, but enough to get some blood pumping. Though I can''t promise it won''t hurt."

    "As always, you''re surprisingly helpful when it comes to cutting things, Toby," Fritz asserted scowling at the man.

    "I don''t have to, just thought I''d offer," Toby grumbled.

    "Do it!" Bert cried, proudly bearing his arm. "Test your Lacerate against my Vitality and we''ll see who''s the victor!"

    "It''s not a contest," Fritz said exasperatedly.

    "It is to me," Bert declared arrogantly. "My pride as a Defender must be appeased."

    For all his disdain for Fritz''s arrogant acts, Bert himself also had something of a dramatic streak. Another bad habit he''d picked up somewhere.

    "This is stupid, but I can just heal the cut if it''s too bad," Jane said with a shrug.

    The rest of the team looked on as though the three were mad. Which they were, but there really wasn''t much risk to Bert, and the longer they waited without catching anything the more the spite would oppose them.

    "Go ahead," Fritz said. "But don''t say I didn''t warn you."

    Bert grinned and stood proudly as he held out his arm and awaited a slash from one of Toby''s daggers.

    The sliver blade''s edge flickered with jagged, red light and with a precise cut Toby drew the dagger down and across Bert''s skin. For a moment the wound was only a line of red ran down Bert''s forearm, then it poured blood like a red wine out of a bottle.

    Bert grimaced as the pot began to fill with sticky, sloshing blood.

    Toby was also frowning.

    "I know why Bert''s making a face but why are you so grumpy Toby?" Fritz asked.

    "Thought it''d gush more," he admitted. "Usually it sprays like an overflowing gutter, not like this."

    Bert''s grimace curved into a grim grin, as the flow of blood started to slow.

    "That''s enough blood, I think," Rosie said when the pot was a third full.

    Jane quickly applied her Ability, the wound was stitched together miraculously by pale green threads.

    "Good as new," she said.

    "Right, let''s soak these rations and get them in the water," Bert said. "Can''t wait to have some fried shark."

    Tentatively they proceeded, it was a morbid task and not for those of squeamish make, but as most of them had been raised in the gutters a little bit of blood didn''t bother them too much. Fritz was only a little queasy at the sight himself, though George and Lauren still looked mortified at the very concept.

    Soon the lines were cast with bloody chunks of the soaked rations on their hooks and within minutes the waters stirred with something other than waves. Bert and Cal grunted as they pulled the sharks in, only to fall backwards as their lines went slack. It wasn''t because the tough, thin threads had snapped, no, they were far too durable for that, but that the sharks were now speeding towards the shore.

    "Step back," Fritz ordered, an ominous feeling building in his gut. "Fighting formation. Spears and blades."

    The team quickly fell into position as Fritz led them into a slow retreat from the shore. The sharks rushed through the waves like a pack of starving hounds, biting and beating the water, leaving white foam in their wake. Fritz got the distinct impression they would have been howling for his team''s blood if sharks could howl.

    When he and his team were fifteen feet from the ocean, he halted their retreat and the sharks threw themselves from the waves, leaping high into the air. The sleek beasts were around six feet long, as he had guessed, and were coloured a matt, dark blue with silvery white underbellies. Their jaws were lined with three rows of sharp, hooked fangs and their gills flared white, spraying water as if spitting in fury. Mad, blue eyes stared out from both sides of their unnatural, spade-shaped heads.

    And most of all they were fast and they were deadly.

    "Back!" Fritz commanded. "Out of their range, let them fall on the sand."

    They backed up another five feet, then the first of the soaring sharks struck the shore. Fritz expected the monster to slap against the sands and then proceed to writhe around helplessly on dry land as any fish would. What he saw instead sent a shiver down his spine. The shark''s eyes flashed with clear blue light that expanded and slid over its long fins and powerful body, wrapping it in a translucent, slippery force.

    It plunged into the shore as if it were water, swimming through the sand as easily as if it were the ocean it had just leapt from.

    Fritz gulped as he saw the rest of the pack arc down gracefully through the air, all gleaming with their own shimmering force and plummeting like a shower of falling knives.

    "Sand Sharks!" Toby yelled.

    "Turtle!" Fritz ordered and his team quickly obeyed, rushing into the rehearsed formation. Jane, Lauren and Cal moved to the centre while those with greater defences and melee ability encircled them, facing outwards and prepared to meet the oncoming foes.

    Switching formation at the last second wasn''t a great idea, but Fritz was sure they''d soon be surrounded and he couldn''t risk the back line against such a swarm. He activated his barrier ring and around him, those of his team with such Treasures did the same.

    Though he knew his Danger Sense should feel murky, shrouded, like his other Senses, Fritz could feel the approaching tearing teeth rending the meat of his calf. He was glad he had chosen the evolution he did, and swiftly stepped out of what was the first of many to-be bites coming for his flesh. Within a second the shark spat out from the sand and snapped at where his leg had been a mere moment before.

    Fritz thrust Quicksilver''s razor point forward. It met the rough yet smooth hide of the shark, and with little resistance, it skewered the overgrown, over-fanged fish. He drew the blade out in a smooth motion and the beast fell to the shore, flailing in agony and attempting to dig below the white sand. It spilled red blood onto the pristine white, and its shimmering coating had disappeared with Fritz''s strike. It struggled and shuddered, but soon it died. He must have struck it somewhere vital.

    Fritz wasn''t done, another shark leapt from the ground only to meet Mortal Edge and have its side split open. Orange light and warmth blew over him from behind and the smell of burning fish permeated the air. Fritz took the time to glance around at his team, only to see them handling themselves with skill. A calm fell over his shoulders as he saw Bert kick a shark straight out of the air while George sliced one in two with his shining blade.

    Rosie was a flurry of hacking and stabbing, and even when a shark bit down on her its teeth ground against her hard scales without breaking them. Cal and Jane wielded spears from the protection of the circle, piercing the sharks that somehow slipped through the defensive line or came through from under the sands. Lauren of course, waited and watched for whenever she could catch more than three together with her fire breath.

    Though they were swarmed, and they were outnumbered by at least thirty sharks, his team, Fritz included, didn''t waver. More to-be bites rasped over his flesh and Fritz returned his focus to taking down as many sharks as he could. Gracefully he dodged and ducked the leaping monsters, slashing and stabbing them as they attempted to strike or pass him. Sever screamed, fire bloomed and Bert laughed. The sounds of flesh being slapped and sliced filled the air.

    After a minute of fighting, there were only three fins circling the panting, bleeding team. Fritz, Bert and George, as the least hurt, stepped forward to meet the last of their foes, and dispatched them with ease when the sharks attempted to lunge for their throats.

    After it was done, Fritz and George wiped their blades clean of the bright blood while Bert kicked a still-twitching beast, putting it out of its misery.

    "That wasn''t so bad," Cal said as Jane repaired a cut down his arm.

    Fritz was about to contradict him out of reflex, but when he took in the condition of his team he had to agree with his statement. While no one, save himself, had come out completely unscathed their wounds were minor and easily taken care of by Jane''s healing Ability. Even Bert who had thrown himself into the fight with wild abandon only sported a couple of bite marks, none of them deep enough to scar that man''s Tough Skin.

    "You''re right," Fritz said, leaning on Quicksilver and peering over the battlefield, littered with dead, dying and burning sharks. "Well done team, you handled the unexpected charge with great skill."

    "Let''s get these fish ready to be fried," Bert said, hauling up a shark onto his shoulders. "That fight made me hungry."

    "That''s fitting," Fritz said. "Bite for bite."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 56

    After a short rest, Fritz and his team stacked the non-charred sharks in a pile to be processed into flaky fillets.

    Then they got to cutting.

    It was bloody work, but a suitably satisfying task, there was a grim triumphant pleasure in carving the creatures. Toby, in particular, was a genius of gutting the beasts. His daggers darted, parting skin and extracting bones in a blur. It was repetitive, rote, almost hypnotic, the way he laid out the cleaned flesh in long strips on top of a flat stone. The meat was wet, pink and shimmered like pearls when held to the light.

    The strips were soon added to Cal''s simmering pan and the wonderful smell of frying fish filled the air. Fritz forgot himself, pausing his own cutting for a moment to savour the scent. His mouth watered and he could see Bert skulking near the cooking fire, holding a bowl and waiting to be first to try the monster meat.

    While watching, Fritz noticed something to Bert''s side, out in the distance. Without his incredible sight, he may have discounted the small, triangular shapes peeking above the sands as a heat haze, or would have if it weren''t so cold. But he soon realised they were the fins of another pack of sharks, around nine of them if his eyes could be trusted. They would reach them within minutes, likely before they even got to have some lunch.

    Fritz cursed under his breath, then scanned his surroundings, noting another pack of six heading their way from the other direction, swimming through the sands stealthily. He wondered what had caught the shark''s attention, what had drawn them from the sea? Was it the blood? Was it the Spite? Or maybe the scent of their own kin dying and sizzling on the wind that had stirred them so?

    It didn''t matter right now, Fritz stood quickly and called out to his team.

    "More sharks incoming. Ready yourselves, turtle!"

    His team took only a second to follow his commands, and Fritz took his place in the protective circle. They gripped their weapons and waited for the assault. Luckily, the two packs didn''t strike at the same time, instead, their separate attacks were staggered. Nine sharks sped in and were slain or repelled. Then six spilled over their formation only to suffer the same fate. Cut, slashed, hacked and burned the sharks fell to Fritz and his team.

    When the last of the beasts fell to Quicksilver''s shadowed edge, Fritz wiped his brow and searched the sea and shore again. There were no signs of any more packs approaching, so he signalled an all-clear.

    Shoulders sagged and many exhaled. They''d taken fewer wounds than the previous fight, but already Fritz could see his team''s weariness build. That, and he knew that they were likely running low on mana after that latest clash. Jane only reinforced this notion when said she could only heal one more bite when she finished healing a nasty cut down Toby''s arm.

    "Rest a bit," Fritz said. "I''ll keep an eye out."

    "I see what you''re doing. Anything to keep you from fish duty," Bert accused, pulling out a fang lodged in his calf.

    "Speaking of fish," Fritz said, staring over the sands. "Lauren, anything good on these sharks?"

    Lauren stood from where she had been sitting and set her lens to her eye, she searched the sharks for almost a minute before speaking.

    "Their skin is magical. Likely the source of their Ability to swim through the sand," she theorised. "Could be useful to a leather-worker."

    "And here I thought we could just eat it," Bert said. "I guess we can''t if it might be worth something."

    "It would have been like eating a grinding stone, with all the softness of boiled leather," Cal said.

    "So we''d just need to chew carefully?" Bert asked with a grin.

    "Let''s just hang them to dry, they can be treated properly on the outside," Lauren said. "As for now throw some of this preservation powder on them."

    "Powder, where did you get that?" George asked.

    "I always had it," Lauren stated primly. "There was a small box of it behind the counter of my mother''s shop. It''s good to have a supply of it, in case the other local stalls and stores run out and some Climbers are in need of it."

    "Ah, of course," George said.

    Fritz and Bert looked to each other, the same thought occurring to them. They hadn''t prepared well for their Climb. Though considering they had gone from one Spire to another in such a short span of days maybe it was to be expected. Fritz could only shrug at his friend and resolve himself to plan better for the next Spire. The Rain Spire, if he could manage to secure enough badges.

    George took the proffered fist-sized box of powder and set to work as he had little to do at the moment, what with the other tasks being taken up by the rest of the team.

    "Does it work on meat?" Cal asked.

    "No, and the powder itself is a poison," George said while he applied the powder sparingly to the shark skins.

    Cal shrugged and returned to his smoking pan, scowling at the blackened shark strips within, poking and prying the, now charcoal, off of the dull metal.

    "Damn," Bert said looking over the man''s shoulder. "I take it lunch will be late?''

    Cal sighed. "Yep."

    "Boo," Bert complained, and Fritz agreed silently, he could really do with a meal. His arms ached, mostly in the elbows, and his legs were sore from all the dodging. Still, he didn''t sheath his blade or relax any as he kept watch.

    Soon the sound of sizzling and the smell of frying suffused the air, and it was hard for him not to be distracted as the others received their lunch before him. They praised the food when they ate it, which just made his hunger worse. He contemplated enacting a rule that declared that the Captain should be served first... at all meals. Fritz quickly abandoned the thought.

    They would label me a food tyrant and oppose me, Bert might even call a mutiny, he mused.

    In fifteen minutes it was his turn to eat and he had Rosie take over the watch for him. She was a guard after all, and her Awareness would make her the most likely to spot another attack.

    When he bit into the succulent seared shark he found it was chewy and closer in taste to seagull than fish. It was also fairly flavourless, though hearty and heavy. The salt and pepper applied to the outside elevated the relatively bland meat to a passable meal. In the Spires, conjuring such a good dish was an achievement and should be thoroughly enjoyed. And so Fritz did, taking his time to savour his lunch. However, on his next Climb, Fritz decided he might invest in some proper herbs and spices.

    After he had finished he congratulated Cal on another successful lunch.

    "Wasn''t hard, just fried them up is all," he replied modestly. "Truthfully, I don''t really know what I''m doing, could do with some learning once we''re out."

    "I thought you wanted to be a merchant," Fritz said.

    "I can do both, can''t I?" Cal asked.

    "Of course, you can," Fritz stated. "You could be a purveyor of monster meats and Spire spices."

    "You think so?" Cal said hopefully.

    "I think so," Lauren interjected. "It''s best that you know the quality of their goods and what their uses are. Knowledge of commodities and where and when they''re wanted is all part of being a successful merchant."

    "That, and running once you''ve cheated your customers," Bert said.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    "What''s a commodity?" Rosie asked.

    "Anything that can be bought or sold," Lauren replied easily.

    "So... everything?" Rosie hedged.

    Lauren merely smiled politely. "Exactly."

    "Not all things have a price," Fritz protested.

    "Is that so?" Lauren asked raising an eyebrow. "Could you name such a unique material?"

    "Honour," Fritz proclaimed and she rolled her eyes, so he added. "Love."

    "A more tangible, real, example please," she said as if bored.

    "Why, Lauren, I never took you for such a cynic!" Bert cried, then Fritz dramatically took over after him, "Didn''t you come Climbing for such intangibles, like adventure, excitement and escape?"

    When she smiled and shook her head slightly he continued his performance.

    "Not for all the gold in the world could one buy such precious things."

    "Depends where you look. There''s many a street down in the districts that sell a lot of uh... love," Rosie said. "And honour is always able to be bought. Just need enough gold."

    "Or leverage," Lauren agreed.

    "That''s not what I''m talking about and you know it," Fritz argued.

    "I take your point, though it doesn''t matter. What you''re not willing to sell, someone else will," Lauren said.

    "Especially when you''re starving," Bert added.

    Fritz sighed, knowing the truth of the matter, intimately. "I suppose you''re right, we all do what we can to survive. And food isn''t free. Such is the state of our drowning city."

    "And that''s a true shame," Lauren muttered to herself and Fritz found himself agreeing.

    "So... you liked the seared shark?" Cal asked, changing the subject awkwardly.

    "Great for the limited supplies and tools you are working with," Fritz said cheerily. "Another serving, if you could be so good."

    Cal nodded and transferred some more strips into Fritz''s outstretched bowl.

    "What about the rest, can''t fry it all, should we smoke it?" Toby suggested.

    Fritz''s mouth was too full of food to reply, so Cal answered, "Do we have the time to do that?"

    "I don''t think so," Rosie said, squinting into the distance. "I can see more coming," she added pointing off into the distance.

    "Barely a moment''s rest," Lauren bemoaned.

    "Must be the spite," Jane said, standing quickly and preparing to either flee or fight. The rest of the team took her lead, packing their bowls away.

    Cal held the still-hot pan by its handle and was struggling to know what to do with it. It would likely burn the things in his pack, but he was obviously loath to leave it behind. With a conflicted expression, he ran to Bert who upon seeing the man''s plight handed him his refilling flask.

    "The water will cool it. Fritz, what are your orders?" Bert asked.

    Fritz barely had time to chew through the last of his second helping before Toby also called out a warning.

    "More, coming from right below us!"

    He was staring at the ground, his eyes slowly moving, tracking the sharks through the sand with his Sanguine Sight. Not for the first time, Fritz wished he''d received such an Ability, though it didn''t bear complaining about. Well, at least not at that moment.

    Fritz swallowed down what was left in his mouth and barked his orders, there was no use fleeing when the beasts were so close, so it would have to be another stand.

    "Turtle formation, grab the skins, but leave the meat Cal," he yelled. "We might be able to sate them with their kin''s flesh."

    Rapidly the team took their places, though this time Fritz directed Toby to the centre to watch out for sharks submerged below the sands. Annoyingly, the monsters were not at all tempted by the flesh of their fellows, they ignored the strewn carcasses and swam doggedly towards Fritz and his team. The sleek creatures hit their formation and were met with steel, fists and fire.

    This wasn''t the kind of fight the monsters were made for, their pack tactics, surprising leaps and stealthy approaches were thwarted by superior Senses and the rapid responses of their team''s Defenders. As such, the sharks were cut apart, skewered and speared as soon as they left the sand, their blood sprinkling over the shore in a red drizzle.

    "Use as little mana and stamina as possible," Fritz ordered during a lull in the battle while the sharks circled ominously. "We''ll need to conserve our strength if more packs keep coming for us."

    As he finished his words, a shark leapt at him, while the other burst out in the centre and the last three all singled out a bloody Bert. The one coming right for Fritz sprung out of the sand as if it could fly, but he was already used to this kind of assault by now. He sidestepped easily and chopped down with Quicksilver, right between its spade-shaped skull and its body, rending a terrible gash in its side and ruining its gills.

    Toby drove both his daggers into the other shark''s underbelly, gutting it, while Bert''s brutal punches and compact kicks sent the beasts that came for him tumbling away through the air or skipping off the sand like tossed stones. From there, the defence went as well as could be expected, and now another fifteen sharks were left bleeding and dying, around and in the circle of their formation.

    Panting, bloody and tired, they scanned the red splattered shore for more foes. Finding none, Jane got to work healing the worst injuries. Rosie sat heavily as her various bite wounds were sewn shut by pale green threads. She grunted out a thanks that was waved off with a thank you in return.

    "Did you notice they focus on Bert?" Toby asked Fritz as they both cleaned their blades.

    "It''s the blood," Bert grumbled. "My Potent Blood must make me more tasty or something."

    "I was going to ask about that, your veins and heart are much brighter than anyone else''s," Toby said. "Is it a Trait or something?"

    Bert nodded tiredly, then a pulse of yellow light washed over him from his amulet and he perked up.

    "Do you think the whole floor will be like this?" Cal asked. "Shark attacks, over and over."

    "Yes," Fritz admitted.

    "It has to be the spite," Toby stated. "It''s worse than we thought."

    "About what I expected," Fritz said. "Though I thought we would get more than thirty yards away from the entrance before the danger found us."

    "The true danger will be the exhaustion, tripled by the need for constant vigilance," Lauren said. "We''ve barely been here an hour and already we''ve had to slay so many sharks. We may have to re-adjust, the slow and steady plan could be impossible."

    A thoughtful silence fell over the team, punctured only by the scraping sounds of packing and the storing of equipment, shark skins and meat. Fritz used the time to consider a new strategy. He didn''t know if they could make it to the Stairway with any good speed, but if their rest was interrupted every time they lay down it would be a slow, grinding death by a thousand bites.

    "Everyone, take your stamina remedies, and apply your healing grease," Fritz commanded. "Lauren''s right, we cannot take our time here as I had hoped. The sharks would wear us down before we found our way to the Well. Take what meat and skin we can from this pack and we''ll get going. I don''t want to have to stop once we''ve started, so we''ll leave the corpses of the next sharks we encounter behind."

    The team nodded, there was some grumbling from Bert but the complaint was mostly about his wounds. Though the madman could duck, dodge and weave around most of the bites, he couldn''t abandon his position in the formation leaving him little room to maneuver, forcing him to take cuts he could have otherwise avoided.

    It was also something Fritz had struggled with, and he had to rely on his barrier once and his Umbral Phase twice to keep him from injury. And he alone of his team had remained completely unscathed. Danger Sense, Grace and his talent for evasion had mitigated the majority of the maws that came his way.

    There was a rumbling below the sand and Fritz turned to Toby who was already staring hard around them. Subtly the shore shifted and the waves of the ocean grew taller by inches, the water crept closer to where they stood. With the small changes a sudden sense of vertigo assailed Fritz and he nearly lost his lunch in a brief bout of nausea.

    Thankfully, he was able to keep his roiling stomach under control and the sensation faded away in a couple of seconds. Only one other of his team looked effected by the shifting of the floor, and surprisingly it was Rosie. Fritz quickly came to the conclusion that it must have been the Awareness Attribute they shared, which he theorised to mean the Spire, or rather, the spite, had done something to try and confuse them.

    It didn''t take long to discover what had changed. Their tracks, the blood and the footsteps, they had left in the sand had been covered and some of the sharks they had slain had simply sunk beneath the fine white grains. There was also a lingering dizziness and the oppressive feeling that he was lost and out of place. He turned to face the direction he thought the Stairway had been and noticed that the shoreline''s shape had been altered and he wasn''t quite sure if he stood in the same spot as before.

    Incongruity warred in his mind until his dizziness subsided, the impression lasted less than a minute, but that was far longer than he had patience for. He tapped his foot on the sand and pulsed his Door Sense in time with it, for a moment there was no response but soon he felt a small, clouded resonance and knew he was facing the right direction, even if he was a little off.

    "What was that?" Rosie asked.

    "Tremor," Toby said.

    "No not that, the spinny feeling," Rosie stated.

    "What do you mean?" George asked. "I didn''t feel anything of the sort."

    "The spite," Fritz said. "It''s trying to muddle us. So we walk the wrong way."

    "How?" Toby asked, having looked up from the ground, obviously seeing no further sharks.

    "Look around, the Floor''s changed," Fritz said. "And seemingly it was able to do so without alerting those without Awareness."

    The team all wore frowns as they looked over the area, their expressions quickly turned to scowls as they noticed all the changes.

    "How did I not see that, even some of the sharks are gone," Cal said.

    "And the ocean is closer," Lauren mused. "Strange that I only felt the quake and didn''t realise all the changes until you brought my attention to it."

    "You would have noticed in time. I don''t think the spite can hide things like that from your mind for very long," Fritz espoused, even though he wasn''t quite sure of his theory. "Though by then you might already be lost, maybe have to use another Door dowser. And if you ran out, well, you''d have to hope you''re not on a survival, maze or navigation floor and had a clear way to the Well Room."

    "Well, we are on one of those floors," Toby groused. "And I''m down my last dowser."

    "Don''t worry we have a couple more, it shouldn''t be too bad," Fritz said with a reassuring smile. "And I didn''t get turned around, thanks to this," he lied while pulling out and opening his compass.

    The needle still pointed north, just as it had before, it was right where he expected it to point, which was a relief as he had no way of being sure it hadn''t changed. Coupled with his Door Sense though it reaffirmed his belief that he knew where to go.

    "It works on this Floor?" Lauren asked mildly, though he could see her shoulders relax somewhat.

    "It does indeed, perfectly, I might add," Fritz said continuing to smile confidently. "The Stairway is to the west. So even if we run out of dowsers, if we have this, we can still find our way."

    "And it''s not shrouded?" Jane asked worriedly. "Or being messed with by the spite?"

    "I don''t think so," Fritz said.

    "Make''s sense it wouldn''t be," George stated.

    "And why is that?" Fritz asked.

    "Well, the spite can''t shroud everything," he responded, though there was some doubt in his tone. "Those meritocratic conditions you mentioned would forbid the floor from being impossible even with the spite on us? Right?"

    "I think you''re onto something," Fritz mused, there was a certain ring of truth to the words he couldn''t quite identify. Like the statement spoke to some larger reason, some great purpose, that Fritz had neither the knowledge of nor the clarity to grasp anything but the edges of.

    "Though we shouldn''t be standing around trying to divine the Spires'' secrets," he continued. "Pack up and be ready to leave, we''re getting out of here quick as may be."

    The team quickly finished up the last of the gutting and filleting, made all the easier by there being far fewer sharks lying around, and were soon ready to leave.

    He considered ordering them to wash their clothes and bodies of blood, so as not to leave as much of a scent behind, but he dismissed the thought immediately. The oceans cold water would suck the very warmth from them, leaving them shivering and weak. Not at all the condition they would need for the long walk ahead.

    Fritz shouldered his own pack, checked his direction, and strode forth.

    He led the way and his team followed.

    "You won''t get us, spite. We''ve been through worse."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 57

    The cold grew worse over the coming hours. Even the flush of heat from the sporadic battles with the small packs of sand sharks couldn''t keep them warm. The breeze was biting and their sweat served to chill them further as they trudged over the white sands.

    Fritz led them, his three-piece pole now in full use as he prodded the metal length into the ground before him in rhythmic intervals. It was slow going, but necessary as they had soon discovered patches of quicksand in the stretches of shore ahead. George had been first to find one such patch, his heavily armoured bulk doing him no favours as he had been pulled down below the sand, up to his waist within a moment.

    He had flailed, and he had yelled in surprise and horror, but Bert had been able to catch him by a wrist and arrest his sucking descent. From there, he and Cal had hauled the man up and out. At the time, Fritz had the distinct desire to pace worriedly, but he forced his legs to be still and his face to be stoic. It wouldn''t do to reveal to his team that his Trap Sense had failed them. Though from their expressions it seemed that they had already guessed.

    It was the spite, of course. Shrouding his Senses at all times, and trying to turn him around with another one those brief moments of vertigo every couple of hours. And then there were the sharks, the relentless sharks, a pack of six to nine almost every half an hour. It was the smell of blood that attracted them, that much he was sure of now. Exacerbated by the spite and the swiftly drifting winds spreading the iron scent far and wide.

    Over the past couple of battles, they had refined their tactics. As they had noticed the beasts'' base craving for Bert''s blood, he now was to intercept the packs before they could encircle the whole team. The sharks would all but ignore the rest of the team just to taste him. Whatever it was that drove them to swarm the man it didn''t matter, they turned it to their advantage.

    They had him distract the monsters, weaving, kicking and punching. A powerful enough strike would break sand shark''s swimming sheen. So while Bert would fight defensively, he would still risk the occasional Concussive Blow to send a shark tumbling to the sand. Once he had secured their attention, the team would strike the pack, cutting, burning and stabbing them out of the air as they leapt, or finishing the fallen sharks before their Ability refreshed.

    Meagre minutes were spent in much-needed rest after such a battle, but they would soon move on, leaving a trail of matte-blue and gleaming white corpses in their wake.

    Although their new stratagem for dealing with the monsters was far more effective and less wasteful, the constant battles were taking their toll. Bert was covered in bites, cuts and bruises, his shirt and pants were torn, ragged with bloody holes, but he strode on all the same, blessing Jane and her Salve Pain Ability.

    "Ah, Jane, where would I be without you?" He asked.

    "You''d probably be fine, already in the Well Room, since we wouldn''t be fighting the spite," Fritz grumbled, though he did so halfheartedly.

    Toby and Jane glared at him darkly. Fritz expected the team to do so as well, but their dissatisfaction was also directed at the two newcomers. Now that they were all enduring the spite, the team didn''t seem all too impressed with the two either.

    "A joke," Fritz sighed. "We chose this, we''ll see it through."

    Another wave of vertigo fell on him from the sky and Fritz reflexively grabbed for his compass. He''d been relying on the thing more and more as his Door Sense became cloudier by the hour. He faced west as the needle indicated and signalled for Toby to give him a Door dowser.

    The man complied, even if he was sulky about it. Cal scowled, Fritz could see there was a mutual enmity building between the two. Maybe it had started when Jane had complimented the man''s cooking, or perhaps when Toby had insulted Rosie when she had attempted to talk, or rather, flirt, with him.

    Or maybe Toby and Cal''s budding vendetta was due to the fact that the two were similar souls, grumpy, grouse-y, and groaners through and through. There was a fight brewing there, and already the exhausting trek was taking its toll on them, on all of them.

    Fritz activated the dowser and felt the wand being pulled towards the stairway, though that was not what he focused on. Instead, he concentrated on the feeling of distance, trying to gauge how much further, how much longer they had to go. His Awareness and Door Sense resonated and he could tell that they were maybe halfway to the Stairway. He breathed out a sigh of relief, they weren''t going nearly as slowly as he had feared.

    His estimations must have been off, which made sense considering they were all Pathers and could keep a brisk pace without much strain, even when loaded with all their bags and packs.

    "We''re halfway there," Fritz announced.

    The statement didn''t bring about any cheers, instead, the faces of his team were set into grim masks. Determination, weariness and worry painted plain to see.

    "We''ve already walked for six hours," Cal complained.

    "Then we''ll walk for six more," Toby retorted, glaring at the man.

    Fritz nearly rolled his eyes, had Cal not already spoken the whining words it would have been Toby saying the exact same thing.

    "I know that," Cal argued, scowling. "And don''t glare at me like that. It''s your fault we have the spite."

    "I didn''t force you to take us on," Toby stated, redoubling his glare.

    "No, but I assumed you''d be more grateful," Cal growled.

    The two locked eyes, clenched their fists and looked ready to pounce at each other when the tense moment was broken by Fritz bursting out into laughter, followed soon by Bert.

    The absurdity of Toby''s argument, the sheer audacity to suggest they hadn''t pulled every trick in the book to infiltrate the team. All the idiot posturing had been too much stupidity to watch, that, and the fact that they were both getting a taste of their own medicine tickled some deep love of irony within Fritz.

    Dusksong chirped and chimed, and he couldn''t help but laugh at the two fools.

    "What''s so funny?" Cal asked, obviously annoyed.

    "What are you laughing at?" Toby asked darkly.

    "Oh, this is too rich," Fritz said, stifling his manic glee but smirking wide all the same. "As if you didn''t beg to be brought along, Toby. And Cal, demanding someone be grateful, how delightful!"

    "It is funny isn''t it," Bert agreed, slapping a knee.

    Rosie chuckled and smiled, though she was one of the only ones who found it amusing. Jane was standing stiffly, staring daggers at Toby. Lauren put on that polite false smile and George''s expression was unreadable, covered as it was by his helm, though he didn''t look happy.

    Cal and Toby broke off their argument, staring anywhere but at each other. Fritz could see embarrassment bubbling, boiling around them, even though the two were too prideful to show it. It was a strange thing to think that even gutter rats like themselves had such capacity for pride. All he could think was that: all pride and no honour was a bad combination.

    "Come, let''s leave the grumbling and groaning by the wayside," Fritz declared. "Another six hours is more than doable. In fact, with our powers all aligned to one purpose, I would say our survival is inevitable. The swifter we''re moving the swifter we''re there. The safety of the Well Room awaits."

    "Well said," Bert agreed. "All that lies between us and sweet rest is a couple of miles around three thousand sharks."

    "It''s likely less than three thousand," Fritz countered with a smirk. "Maybe. Let''s go."

    With that, he faced the Stairway in the distance and plotted their course. They would have to hug the shoreline and cross the sand bridges, as the sea still stood between them and their destination. But that course was far more safe than trying to brave the freezing ocean.

    Fritz shivered, stretched his shoulders, fastened the straps of his pack and strode ahead.

    Hours passed, they were accosted three more times before they had to stop. Not from exhaustion or the injuries they had taken, but from the lack of a way forward. The Door was closer than ever, and yet to Fritz, still felt further out of reach than when they had begun traversing this floor.

    The ocean''s waves had roughened considerably, and grown far taller, they crashed against the narrow span of sand that connected the island they stood upon to the next one they needed to reach. The surging tide drowned their path forward, and Fritz called a halt before it.

    "Rest a moment, we wait for the sea to fall, then we sprint across," he commanded.

    "I wish we could''ve saved the bottled boat," Jane said with a sigh.

    "You had a bottled boat?" Fritz asked, intrigued.

    "Larry did, just a rowboat, not a ship or galleon like in the tales though," Toby explained. "His pack was too heavy to take though."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    "Trapped too," Jane said. "But he might have been bluffing."

    "Damn," Bert said. "Damn!" He repeated.

    "Sharks!" Toby cried out.

    "Damn," Bert grumbled, striding towards the newest pack, wincing as he stepped into the sea and the salt soaked his calves.

    "Is it just me or are the sharks getting bigger?" Cal asked, staring at the dark shadows swimming toward them.

    Fritz frowned, but could see what he meant, these specimens were at least half-again longer than the very first ones they fought.

    "If they are, that would be good," Bert said.

    "How on Epsa could that be true, you bloodmad brute," Jane snipped.

    Bert shrugged and grinned, "More shark, easier to strike."

    "True as the rain," George agreed, readying his blade.

    George had been getting a lot of practice with his weapon on this floor, in fact, they all were. Though more and more during the fights, George seemed to be slipping into the stances and strikes he had read from his Technique tiles. Fritz hoped he was close to learning it, as, despite his feigned calm and confidence, every edge was needed to help them survive.

    The first of the sharks leapt at Bert and he deftly avoided its teeth, then returned its attempted bite with his own bone breaking uppercut right into its pale underbelly. The Concussive Blow stunned the creature and it fell into the shallow water, twitching and twisting. George took a rigid stance and sliced downward with his greatsword, almost decapitating the shark in one fell swoop. It was an impressive cut, seeing as he hadn''t used Sever as he usually did, only the clear white sheen of Sharpen Blade lingered on his weapon''s copper edge.

    Fritz didn''t have time to watch and marvel though, the next shark was in the air and he was needed, they all were. With Quicksilver''s edge he met his foes. Back to battle.

    ---

    The last of the sharks fell to a spear thrown by Cal. Why the man hadn''t been using his weapon in such a manner before Fritz couldn''t say. Perhaps he didn''t want to damage or lose it. He''d ask him later, because it didn''t matter right now, all that mattered was catching his breath and getting the gash in his arm seen too.

    Fritz stumbled over to Jane on shaking legs, but she was already tending to Toby, and then Bert needed her attention, covered as he was in bleeding bites. Fritz no longer envied the man''s monstrous recovery, it seemed as much a curse as a blessing. It couldn''t be fun being torn apart over and over.

    Yet Bert bore the pain without complaint and not a bit of blame in his bloodshot eyes. Jane soothed him with Salve Pain and he sighed.

    "Jane you''re a goddess," he groaned.

    "You''re right, she is. But don''t try to steal my girl," Toby groused, though he softened the words with a sly smile.

    "I wouldn''t dare," Bert proclaimed, but winked at Jane mischievously. She smiled and shook her head.

    Fritz let his wearied team rest for longer this time, that particular fight took more out of them than he had expected. He was beginning to worry that maybe his plan to push through this Floor as quickly as possible was coming back to bite him. Much like those larger sharks.

    "I''m out of life mana," Jane stated as she made it to Fritz''s side. "We''ll have to do it the old fashioned way."

    Fritz nodded and held out his bloody arm. He kept his eyes on the ocean and held his face steady as she applied some healing grease and began to sew him up with needle and thread. The prick and pain reminded him of his first hour within a Spire. It was a keen reminder of how far they had come, but also how far they still had to go. And he couldn''t help but think, that even with all the Power they had attained, there was no guarantee that they were strong enough to survive.

    In all likelihood, it would be the same on the outside. They would be made thralls to the Nightshark''s whims. Fritz wouldn''t fall into line easily though, no, he would fight. Fight for his freedom. That wasn''t to say he''d be stupid about it though. He would obviously flatter and charm, while he set up his schemes, biding his time until he could escape the rule of any tyrant, be they crimelord or king.

    Absently he pulsed his Door Sense and felt the reassuring resonance.

    After nine minutes had passed, and they had regained some of their spent energy, they stood before the currently drowned sand bridge. The water finally receded, revealing the way across, and in the distance another wave gathered, leaving his team only minutes to sprint across to the next safe shore. Those with Abilities and Attributes that could carry them over the sand quickly didn''t use them, reserving their Stamina for the next fights.

    And it was good that they did, another pack had picked up their bloody trail and was following them. The team had long since determined it would be impractical if not impossible to hide the scent of blood from their accruing injuries, and they wouldn''t risk the draining cold of the freezing waters just for the chance it would throw off the beasts.

    Fritz made a decision then and there, "We''re picking up the pace. Ignore the sharks, we''re going to run as long as we can. If you can''t run any longer call out and someone will carry you."

    "Are you sure about this?" Toby asked. "If the sharks catch up we''re fish food."

    "We can''t just keep fighting them," Fritz said. "We''re almost at our limits. It''s best to push on now, while we still have some Stamina. The Well awaits."

    Fritz expected the man to scowl and argue, or even to share a meaningful look with his beloved. But he did no such thing, Toby sighed, nodded once, and set his back straighter, grimacing at the thought of the slog ahead.

    His expression was echoed by the rest of the team, but there was no dissent. They trusted Fritz''s call and would give their all. Their lives depended on it, on him and his judgement. With no further words or stirring speeches, he nodded back to the team and began to run, metal staff out and poking the ground ahead, pulsing his trap Sense with every third step in the vain attempt to detect banks of quicksand before they ran into them.

    They ran. The fine white sand barely crunched beneath their feet as they fled from their pursuing foes. Drops of blood fell, leaving a spotty red path for the sharks to follow.

    After three minutes Fritz was puffing, after nine he was panting, after eighteen he was struggling to breathe in full breaths. His lungs burned and his legs ached. His feet thudded and his head rang with the high-pitched whine that he could only assume was caused by the overuse of his pulsing method.

    He didn''t dare stop though, the sharks behind had kept up, but they weren''t gaining, yet. He didn''t know whether it was the sand slowing their swimming or that the sharks were simply hounding them to exhaustion. He supposed it was the latter, tired prey was weak prey after all, and an easy meal might be preferable to an early one.

    They pressed on. Lauren was the first to fall and was soon scooped up by Bert and carried forth like a sack of potatoes. She was so tired she didn''t even have it in her to complain. George was next to stumble, and they had to wait for a tense couple of minutes while he, with help from Cal stripped off his armour and stored it in Cal''s black pack.

    "Drink," Fritz commanded. And he felt his legs wobble as he drank from his flask and wet his dry throat.

    His team huffed and puffed. Toby was bent over and heaving, Jane looked weary but steady. Cal''s Tireless Ability seemed to be coming in handy and he only looked weary. Bert, with his Potent Blood and enormous Endurance, could have likely run for days. Or he could have if he wasn''t covered in cuts and carrying a thoroughly disgruntled Lauren. He looked pale, and for some reason he looked less muscular, like he''d gone hungry for a week. A sure sign that Vitality had a side effect if you relied on it too much, it must have been burning his body''s reserves for some time.

    Bert caught Fritz scanning him, and he grinned. His smile was strained, this only made Fritz worry more. But before he could say anything, Bert pulled a stamina potion from a pouch. He held it up and shook it, asking permission to drink it. Fritz nodded and Bert downed the liquid in one quick swallow. Immediately, he perked up, jostling his burden, who yelped in surprise.

    "Sorry, milady," he apologised insincerely as he placed her down.

    She began to grumble something but Fritz cut off any talk that might start up.

    "No more stopping, take your remedies again, this time take the little brown pills," he ordered.

    What they knew of the small oval pills was that they were potent. From what they had gathered from the raider''s scrolls, they would fill you with boundless energy for three hours. But they would also make you jittery, jumpy and restless, then when they wore off you would be drained to the bone. That made taking them a last resort, when a burst of stamina was needed, like now.

    This time there was no argument, though they only had enough of the pills for three. Fritz took one as did Rosie and George. Fritz was tempted to offer his to Jane, but she would likely refuse as she had with all the other remedies. She didn''t know how the various herbs would affect her condition and didn''t want to risk any complications. It was a frustrating if understandable choice. Luckily Lauren was able to reassure her that at least the potions were safe for her to drink.

    As a precaution, a prudent one in Fritz''s mind, Jane had been handed one of the stamina potions from the chest they opened. It was better to be held by a healer anyway.

    Fritz swallowed down his pill with a mouthful of water and felt a strange pressure building in his chest and aching legs. His headache fled. He opened his eyes wide and knew he needed to move, to run. There was a prickling on his skin and waves of energy ran up his limbs right to the edges his fingertips and toes. His body became as light as a feather and his worries soared away, his thoughts formed flightily and drifted if he didn''t hold them tight.

    "Let''s go," he said as his teeth nearly chattered from the barely contained excitement that rode on those pleasing, powerful waves.

    They set off again, and Fritz picked up the pace further. Poking and pulsing as he ran ahead, almost laughing as they began to outpace the sharks behind. Then he was laughing in truth as he dodged around a bank of quicksand. He embraced the wild joy beating with his heart. For an hour the giddy delight ran through him, as he sped over the sands, his team were beginning to lag, well except for George and Rosie who could keep up and who''s faces were bared in rictus grins, the same as the one he likely wore himself.

    "Come on!" He yelled. "We''re almost there!"

    He wasn''t exaggerating, they were close, so close, he could sense the Stairway now, and thought he could see it. There in the distance, maybe another ten minutes of running away was a jutting scaled, standing stone. One side glowed with a soft light, it couldn''t be anything else but the stairs up.

    "There! See the stone, it stands alone. Its scales, its size, can''t hide from our eyes!" He cried. "Catch up, fast, the die is cast. Follow, run, we''ve almost won."

    Even in his haze of overwhelming joy and relief Fritz noticed something. Something that might normally deter him or hurt his spirit but was drowned by the flood of fine, frenetic feeling. Between his team and the way out, there were no less than three packs of sharks. They were large beasts and they were numerous, too many to count, not that Fritz could be bothered to do so, not when their goal was almost within reach. Not when he had so much power.

    "Sharks!" He laughed. "They are barring the way! Fear not, fret not, I''ll lead them astray!"

    Fritz didn''t even bother to look behind him, nor deign to listen to his team''s protests. He had a mission. A task to draw away the sharks! No one else could do it, not like he could. He disassembled his staff, then he quickly put it away. George and Rosie flew past him, their eyes focused on the Stairway in the distance. Something occurred to Fritz. The sharks would need some incentive to follow him and only him. He drew Mortal Edge and cut a line down his forearm. He began to bleed and he giggled at the stupid sight.

    Then he ran. Right for the closest pack. He would lead them on a merry chase. He would dodge and dance, stab and sway, slashing, hacking, in bloody spray. Quicksilver was in his hand and his bone dagger in the other as he slipped between the sharks and they swarmed him.

    Fritz laughed, spinning and slaughtering. Danger Sense proved its worth in seconds and again in another three. His blades cut in graceful arcs and he dodged around sleek bodies. He sprinted through the pack as they leapt for him, and he swiftly left the sharks behind, running to the next. He''d tricked them, taunted them with blood and battle, and they followed, but they were too slow in the sand. Far too slow to catch Fritz as he sprinted away.

    The next pack was just as unprepared for his ploy of dashing through their ranks, as was the last pack. Soon all the sharks were in pursuit, and although the giddy waves of energy flowed over him, Fritz could feel his legs beginning to lag, and he staggered once despite his Grace.

    All at once his dire peril came crashing down on him. He nearly tripped, and he realised he was soaked in sweat and blood. Snarled with countless small cuts where the sharks'' teeth had nicked him. Fear assaulted his suddenly sensible senses and his legs shook from overuse, they felt loose, as steady as a jellyfish.

    Luckily, he had a lead on the monsters, and he was able to get his feet moving again, he stared around, searching for his team. They were running for the Stairway as he had ordered, all except Bert, who was rushing towards Fritz. He was almost furious he had disobeyed him, but as he staggered and nearly fell to the sand again, he reasoned that it wasn''t such a terrible dereliction of his duty. And really, what could he expect from his brother?

    Bert roared and Fritz yelled out his own scream as he pushed himself forward, towards the stairway. A thundering rumbled from behind and Bert was beside him, scowling and speaking.

    "Idiot! What are you doing!"

    "I''m a diversion," Fritz declared.

    "A dumbarse!" Bert argued, "You''re going to be ripped to pieces."

    "We!" Fritz countered and laughed finding the situation absurdly funny. "We are going to be ripped to pieces!"

    "Idiot!" Bert repeated. "Madman!"

    Fritz stumbled again, then came to a stop, realising he couldn''t keep up his running any longer.

    "Ah, my legs, they can not carry me any longer," Fritz panted. "Carry me to safety, Bert."

    Bert grunted once and hefted Fritz like the sack of squid guts he felt like. Then they began to move, slowly, too slowly, the sharks were gaining on them by the second.

    "Bert, my brother, faster!" Fritz yelled. "The sharks are almost upon us!"

    "Can''t, too tired, and you''re too damn heavy," Bert replied in kind.

    "Then we must turn and fight," Fritz proclaimed, and he felt Bert nod.

    They slowed and Fritz was set down on his feet. His legs ached terribly but weren''t as shaky as before, which was a relief. He drew his weapons and turned.

    In the distance, he could see his team retreat into the Stairway, and he sighed, glad he no longer had to worry for their safety.

    "Looks like we have to face these fish alone," Bert stated, shaking out his shoulders, dropping his pack and raising his fists. "Just the two of us against everything, huh."

    "I wouldn''t have it any other way!" Fritz cried. "Us against all the sharks! Let''s kill every single one of them!"

    They grimly grinned, and faced the horde together.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 58

    Fritz and Bert stood back to back, blades drawn and fists raised to meet the sharks swimming through the soft, white sand. Though Fritz was tired, though he was fearful, he held strong and rallied his raucous nerves, attempting to still the waves of wild energy still washing over him. That stamina pill he had taken was still working its magic, though now the manic mood he had succumbed to earlier was waning.

    What had he been thinking? To jump into the literal jaws of his foes to lead them away was tantamount to suicide. And yet here he was, and he''d dragged Bert into it, again. Though it''s not like the man would ever leave him. He could hear Bert shuffle his feet and take his stance. Although Fritz couldn''t see him, he knew he was grinning.

    This was going to be one of those fights then, they would be pushed to their limits and Bert would revel in the challenge, the carnage, they were to endure and enact.

    Rather than let his thoughts spiral, Fritz kept his eyes on the approaching dark-blue fins, activated his barrier ring, and waited for their foes to strike.

    Spade-headed sharks leapt, each was almost nine feet long and they were many. They were a storm of teeth and fins but Fritz was a fleeting shadow after the lightning and Bert was the thunder.

    Fritz lowered his stance and lunged forward, both blades in hand. Quicksilver slid down the exposed underbelly of a soaring shark and Mortal Edge plunged into the gills of another as he sidestepped its open, toothy maw. Bert weaved, he ducked, he dived and dodged, through the pack, slamming them with compact punches and solid, straight kicks as he slipped between the falling fish.

    Without having to maintain the protective circle of their former formation it was easier to maneuver, far easier to avoid the brutally powerful jaws and terribly sharp teeth. They could each focus on their own defences without worrying about the others. It was a freeing feeling, that they could trust in each other and their powers. That, even if they were surrounded and swarmed, nothing could slay them while they were in their element.

    Chaos.

    Stepping, sliding, slashing and slicing, Fritz spun and slaughtered his way through the sharks. He found himself speeding out of the other side of the swarm, then he turned and dived right back in. Blood flew through the air, a warm scarlet drizzle. Not all of it was their foes. No matter how gracefully or precisely he moved, it wasn''t enough to evade such numerous enemies.

    Fritz misstepped more than once, his Umbral Phase had kept him safe for his first mistake, but for his others, he was rewarded with long, shallow gashes across his armour and sometimes over his skin. He bled, but not as badly as Bert. His brother-in-arms was a maze of light cuts and crescent bites. His clothes were ragged and riddled with holes, dyed red.

    Bert didn''t falter, didn''t flinch. His fists struck out, shattering the magic that let the sharks swim through sands and leaving them stranded and spasming. It was obvious the sand sharks could breathe both air and water so they wouldn''t suffocate if left to flounder, which is why Fritz took great pains to target their gills where he could.

    Over their many battles with the sharks, they had found it would take thirty seconds for the sand swim sheen to refresh. While half a minute wasn''t long in the real world, in a battle it was an age and more than enough time for Fritz to finish their flailing foes. That''s not to say he was the only one killing the creatures, no, many of them had broken spines or crushed skulls, inflicted by Bert''s ridiculous strength and the occasional Concussive Blow.

    Together they were a whirlwind of death, sharks fell by the dozens. Yet still more came, drawn by the battle and the bloodbath. After committing too much momentum to a lunge, Fritz felt a deadly bite, and the terrible teeth tearing out his throat. He was forced to stagger back, out of the peril''s path and abandon Quicksilver, stuck as it was in a particularly large shark''s spine. His and Bert''s backs met, they were both panting, heaving great breaths. Sweat and blood trickled into Fritz''s eyes and he wiped it away.

    "Can you keep going?" Fritz croaked.

    "Can you?" Bert groaned.

    Fritz scoffed outwardly, but inwardly he wasn''t sure. His whole body felt sluggish, weak. He wobbled, and his arm trembled as he tried to hold up Mortal Edge. Bert didn''t seem much better, even with all his Vitality and Endurance, he could only bleed so much before it would take its toll on his body.

    Still, he expected to feel fear, that overwhelming terror that his life was about to end. But he felt nothing of the sort, there just wasn''t that pressure. These sharks didn''t scare him, they weren''t the hounds, nor the raider, and he wasn''t the same untried man that had fought them. Instead, he was tired, calm, ready to finish the fight. He steadied his hand and his bone blade stopped shaking. He let out a long breath, then plunged forward again, dodging between biting maws and taking up Quicksilver again.

    Bert roared and Fritz could hear wet thuds and meaty crunching coming from behind.

    The next minutes, or perhaps hours, were a blur of blood and blade. Fritz was in a kind of trance, darkness closed in around the edges of his vision, but he didn''t fret. He relied on his Danger Sense to see. It was like he was in a pitch-black ocean, in which he could only see those serrated teeth swim towards him, illuminated by deadly light.

    Weighed down and weary beyond belief, he fought, he struggled and stabbed. And when he could see no more, hear no more, feel no more, he fell to his knees, dropping his blades. They clattered silently. His whole world was numb, but he heard one thing through the black haze.

    "I think that''s all of them," Bert whispered.

    "It better be," Fritz said. "I''m dying."

    ---

    Bert turned to see Fritz pass out.

    "Hah, softy," he breathed out.

    The word spun, and the sickness in his stomach grew worse, so he sat. He meant to sit on the ground but his buttocks slammed into something more squishy, a dead shark. The sands were littered with them.

    Bert spat, clearing his mouth of blood and phlegm. He stared around, though there wasn''t much to see, nothing stirred on the horizons and all their foes lay still. Fritz coughed, whined something incomprehensible and he knew he should check on the man. Fritz didn''t have Vitality after all.

    It was too tiring to stand, so Bert crawled on hands and knees towards his fallen brother. Fritz wasn''t looking well, he was pale and his breathing was soft and shallow. Blood trickled from countless wounds, long and short but not very deep. They were mere grazes compared to the heroic injuries Bert had earned and still endured.

    Fritz, however, was not nearly as sturdy as himself, and he might really be in peril. If not for the proclamation of dying, Bert might have fed him a healing potion. As it was, Bert took some time to recover, lying beside his brother and breathing deeply.

    Sleep called to him, weighed on him like a heavy blanket, beaten away only by the pounding of his heart. Bert blinked his gritty eyes and groaned before struggling up and standing. All the wounds he''d taken throbbed and his head swam again, yet he kept his feet. He only had to push a little longer before he could rest, just nine more minutes of torment.

    "This is your fault," he told Fritz. "Crazy bastard."

    Fritz didn''t respond.

    Bert sighed, grabbed both his and Fritz''s packs and slung their straps over his shoulders. They were so light he could barely feel them, a product of all his prodigious Strength. The same could not be said of Fritz, it was the bones, Bert knew, but his brother had also been packing on some wiry, dense muscle. It didn''t show much in his frame, only in his surprising weight.

    Bert grunted as he threw Fritz over one shoulder, then he seized the tail of the closest shark, gripped it tightly and began to trudge toward the Stairway.

    ---

    When Fritz awoke it was to the familiar rocking motion of being carried, and none too gently.

    "Bert, are we okay?" Fritz croaked out.

    "Not really," Bert grumbled. "But the Stairway is close, do you think you can walk?"

    Fritz kicked his legs weakly, they barely moved.

    "No," he admitted.

    "A shame. I might have to leave you here then," Bert said, still ambling forth.

    "A shame indeed, and a pity," Fritz sighed, not at all concerned that Bert would actually leave him.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    His real concern was his team that had gone ahead and had obviously encountered a pack of their own, judging from the dead sharks. From where Fritz hung limply, he couldn''t see any human corpses, but they may have been dragged down under the sand by the sharks, something he and Bert had to avoid many a time in their battle.

    His other worry, though, was more potent, if less pronounced. What if they were left behind? Without him and Bert, they would no longer have to bear the spite. They could proceed more safely, if blindly, into the tenth and last Floor. Would it be another betrayal? Would Toby and Jane convince the rest to leave them behind? Was he going to get what he deserved for trusting those two traitors?

    Fritz sighed, there was no use worrying right now, no use in predicting the catastrophe that hadn''t come to pass. Though it''s not like it would be too terrible to be left behind. He and Bert could take on the world, would take on the world, if it came to it. The only truly terrible thing would be losing all the hard-fought loot.

    Fritz shook his head, or tried to, and dispelled the morbid, distrustful thoughts. He was getting all too used to suspecting the worst of people. It was a bad habit, and one he''d been meaning to break.

    Fritz heard the sound of scraping, and saw Bert was pulling one of the larger sharks along with him.

    "Why would you have to leave me behind? Just drop the shark instead," Fritz complained.

    "I like the shark better, despite it biting my backside it''s still less of a pain in the arse than you," Bert said with a small chuckle.

    "Just come up with that or have you been waiting to say it?" Fritz asked,

    "Waiting," Bert stated proudly.

    "Could have waited for an audience, the team will love that one. If they''re still there that is," Fritz said darkly.

    "They will be," Bert said confidently. "And don''t worry, this joke is good enough for a repeat."

    "I''ll ruin it," Fritz threatened.

    "You won''t," Bert countered.

    "I won''t," Fritz agreed, smiling.

    Soon a shadow was cast over them, and Fritz saw the scaled stone steps beneath him as he was hauled up the stairs.

    "Another successful floor," Fritz said.

    "Another win," Bert said.

    "I don''t say this enough but, good job, Bert. Couldn''t have done it without you," Fritz said letting some of his affection slip.

    "You don''t say it, because it goes without saying, idiot," Bert said, but from his tone, Fritz knew the man was grinning.

    They fell into companionable quiet, broken by the sound of talking coming from above. The voices didn''t seem to be argumentative, just worried. And when Bert walked them into the well room they went silent.

    "You''re alive," Lauren stated as though she didn''t believe it.

    "Told you so," Rosie declared.

    "As did I," George added.

    "Me too," Cal agreed.

    "Like always," Jane sighed.

    "Why''d you bring a shark?" Toby asked. "Seems a pain."

    "It is, but even though this shark bit my backside it is still less of a pain in the arse than you," Bert declared.

    There were some chuckles, but Fritz got the impression that the team was too harrowed for humour.

    "Huh, maybe it wasn''t worth the repeat," Bert muttered.

    "The Well," Fritz coughed.

    "Right!" Bert cried. "Make way for your glorious captain. He endures many wounds he took ensuring your survival. And I''m hurt too."

    The team parted and Bert dropped his shark, then lumbered forward, towards the Well, Fritz assumed. He wasn''t wrong as soon he was placed beside a thick, coral column that was grown in a spiralling pattern and glowed with a soft blue light. Fritz quickly placed a shaky hand upon the Well and drew in the cool, soothing power.

    His cuts burned icily as they closed, Fritz didn''t bother to guide the healing energies instead letting the Well decide where recovery was most required.

    Fritz let out a sigh that was echoed by Bert''s own as colour returned to his skin.

    Although not all of Fritz''s cuts closed, they had stopped bleeding for now and his fatigue had been eased somewhat. He was still tired, exhausted even, but now he could stand, and no longer did he feel under the threat of slipping into unconsciousness.

    Now he was healed, he took in the Well room. He was disappointed by its simplicity and its small size. The walls were made of that stone scale he''d come to expect from the Mer Spire and those walls were close, cramped, there seemed barely enough space to set up all their bedrolls.

    That was going to grate on their nerves, though it seemed everyone else was also too weary to care about such things, yet.

    "Toby, you can get started on the shark. Cal, I''m starving, cook up something to eat, would you?" Fritz ordered amiably.

    "I uh, would, but there isn''t any room for a fire," Cal said.

    "No problem," Lauren said with a wide smile. "Get out the pan."

    "Whoa! Wait! You can''t breathe fire in here," Cal protested.

    Lauren scoffed. "Of course, what kind of idiot do you take me for? We got new Abilities remember."

    "Oh, right," Cal said sheepishly, then retrieved the iron pan from his pack.

    Lauren stared at the metal, and after a moment frowned.

    "It must be touch-based," she murmured and reached out, putting one slender finger on the pan''s lip.

    A small spot where she touched iron glowed a dull red before dissipating when she removed her finger.

    Cal checked the pan, with a finger of his own. "It''s warm," he observed.

    "Heat Metal," Lauren stated proudly, even if there was a little disappointment in her voice.

    "Lucky," George said enviously. "The best I could take was Harden Metal."

    "I took Piercing Shriek. It was the best of my choices too," Rosie joined in. "Don''t know why it was offered, must be because of them sirens."

    "Of course it was," Cal agreed reluctantly. "My choices weren''t great, Deep Lungs, Water Resistance, and Sure Footed. I ended up picking Sure Footed. It boosts my balance and the ability to stay on my feet and well... steadies me against being pushed around. Like with that damn wind mage."

    "Good choices all around," Fritz said, not at all annoyed that they seemingly no longer needed his advice. Though he could hardly fault their choices, except maybe Rosie''s, that was going to be a pain in the ears.

    "How about you two?" Fritz asked Toby and Jane. "Get anything good?"

    Toby shrugged and Jane said, "Toby got Quiet steps or something, not that he needs it, and I took Bloodletting."

    One of those Abilities sounded familiar, he had definitely been offered Quieted Steps before, but the other seemed to be some offensive power, not suited to a healer.

    "Why take that? An odd ability for a Healer," Lauren professed before Fritz could.

    "It''s both, it creates a cut that draws out poison and disease," Jane said. "It was either that or Cutting Strike or Calm. Bloodletting pairs well with Sew Wounds, and gives me some offence if I''m in trouble."

    Fritz couldn''t fault her logic so he didn''t speak up.

    "How about you two?" Toby asked.

    "Didn''t get anything this Well," Bert said. "Apart from attributes and that sweet, sweet healin''."

    Jane frowned, then her brow lifted. Obviously, she''d deduced something about their actual level, which was frustrating, though not entirely surprising.

    "You didn''t," she muttered.

    Fritz had to stop himself from scowling at his brother for giving so much away, especially in these small confines where every one could hear them. He almost wanted to punch Bert, but he knew it was an honest mistake, these things were bound to happen, there was only so much you could hide and be trusted at the same time. And they''d been walking that tightrope for too long, a slip was all but inevitable.

    Best to play it off for now, pretend the words didn''t hold anything too significant.

    "We did," Fritz said self-assuredly. "But you shouldn''t speak of it, not right now, not here."

    "What''s going on?" Lauren asked. When Fritz merely turned his blandest smile on her she sighed. "More secrets is it?"

    "Correct, as usual, Lauren," Fritz affirmed.

    "Now, if you could aid Cal with dinner, that would be much appreciated," Fritz entreated.

    "I''m no servant," she protested, but there was little heat to her words.

    "Well, it''s the only way we''ll get something warm, unless you''re keen on eating raw shark," Fritz argued affably.

    "Fine," Lauren huffed.

    "You just have to heat up the pan, I''ll do the rest," Cal said as he took out one of the soggy bags filled with shark flesh. He started layering the pan with the fillets and Lauren placed her hand on the underside of the pan and soon the sound of sizzling could be heard.

    "Thanks," Cal said.

    The team watched on hungrily, Bert licked his lips while Fritz''s mouth watered. Rosie nearly drooled and George''s stomach rumbled, which he bore stoically.

    "Jane, could you heal Bert, then me?" Fritz asked so that some of the starving attention focused on the increasingly nervous Cal would be diverted.

    "Sure thing, I got some of my mana back, I can use one or two Sew Wounds," she replied. "Wish I knew how mana recovery works. I asked Jasper about it, but he was always too ''busy''."

    "Oh, that? I thought everyone knew how Magic Attributes worked?" Lauren said. "Weren''t you taught that?"

    "No... we weren''t," Toby admitted bleakly. "Not much in the way of tutors, unless you count Fritz."

    "I wouldn''t," Bert said, grinning.

    "Harsh, but it wasn''t like you lot wanted to listen to my lectures anyway," Fritz argued, somewhat sulkily. "Though we''re getting off track already, and I''m also burning to know how mana recovery works. Lauren, would you grace us with your wealth of education."

    She glared at him as if he were mocking her, but soon noticed the lack of artifice and the honest desire for her lessons.

    "Of course," she said primly. "I won''t go into the greater theory, like how there are certain Traits, Advanced Attributes and Passives that can increase recovery. But here is the basic formula. Every hour a third of a third, or one-ninth of that Magic Attributes mana will recharge. That is to say, every nine hours your mana should be filled completely, barring more magic uses, penalties or select poisons. And so, every nine points you have in a Magic Attribute will regenerate one mana per hour, until you''re full that is."

    Fritz blinked.

    "Why?" George asked.

    "Who knows," Lauren said with a shrug. "It''s just what''s been observed. You''d have to go to the Grand Spire of Knowledge and Magic and ask the city of wizards and great scholars to get an in-depth explanation. They''re the ones who would know."

    "And here I thought it just recovered over a night''s rest," Bert said.

    "It does, sort of. One of those penalties to magic recovery includes sleeping well. If you don''t rest you regain less, just like with Stamina," Lauren provided.

    "And just how much rest should we be getting?" Toby asked.

    "Six hours," she stated.

    "I could sleep for twelve," Fritz yawned.

    "Me too," Rose said, laying out her bedroll.

    Soon everyone was doing the same, it was like some sort of puzzle trying to fit them all together in the confines of the tiny Well room. Especially since no one wanted to be within rolling distance of the three Doors up, lest they awaken trapped in a stairway without the team.

    Fritz shuddered at the thought, and while he was waiting for his meal to be ready, he stared at the Doors and gleaned what he could. His Door Sense responded sluggishly, no longer did it feel like it was blanketed in mist but rather it felt like it was being held down by some pressure from above.

    I get it, you don''t like us Climbing as eight, Fritz bemoaned inwardly. The Spire didn''t answer, not that he thought it would.

    Still, he received vague impressions from each of the Doors. It was far more than he''d been expecting though far less than he''d been hoping.

    The leftmost Door was another shore, with a warmer breeze carrying the scent of limes. Danger lurked within, many monsters, eels maybe.

    The middlemost Door was a cave mouth of pale stone, a plane of water wobbling between its ceiling and floor. It was cold, and again there were monsters though of what type, he couldn''t tell.

    The last Door was a circle of glossy, pink, pearl-like substance. A smooth ramp of the strange material flowed up and beyond his view. Fritz felt both a sense of bleakness and heaviness from the Door, though no monsters.

    With his inspection done, he sat and pondered his choice of Door.

    With so little to go on, and with the spite as bad as it was, he felt as lost as he''d ever felt. It was just like when he''d chosen his very first door, any of these could lead him and his team to an early grave if he chose wrong. If he misjudged the deadliness of each Door.

    He sighed. He knew it wasn''t all up to him, they could always vote. But this time he had no idea which way to steer their approval.

    It would be sheer luck.

    And if Fritz could call himself one thing, it wasn''t lucky.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 59

    Fritz had intended to inform his team of what he had felt from the Doors, but he felt a sudden, vicious twisting in his stomach. Then his heart shuddered. All the energy leaked out of him like water through a sieve. He staggered backwards, and tripped on an unfurled bedroll, tumbling to the ground and onto his back.

    breathing hard

    There was a chorus of exclamations and questions, mostly along the lines of "What''s wrong?" and "Are you alright?"

    "Calm down. It''s those pills," Lauren stated over the hubbub. "The scrolls said the withdrawal would be intense. Remember?"

    Even if Fritz hadn''t remembered, this awful weariness would have reminded him. He tried to struggle up, but his bones were heavier than lead and his muscles had the all solidity of a squid''s spine.

    "Urgh," Fritz complained eloquently. "Bert... get... me... to... my... bed."

    His brother quickly marched to his side and lifted him, then strode over to and placed him in his bedroll.

    "Foooood," Fritz croaked, trying to make it sound as pitiable as possible while his stomach gurgled.

    Bert grinned. "Wait your turn. We''ll get ours together."

    The other two assailed by the sudden terrible tiredness were also escorted to their own beds.

    Even through Fritz

    After about six minutes, Bert approached with two bowls filled with fired shark fillets. In his starving, weakened state Fritz almost cried. The shark was the same, chewy and bland, but right now, it was the most divine food in the world. Without decorum he ate, scarfing down the meat. Over the next hour, he received another two servings of the stuff, which he was not begrudged. They had plenty of shark flesh left.

    ate

    When Fritz felt full he pulled his sirensilk sheet up to his cheek and nodded off, letting his weariness claim him at last.

    ---

    "Will they be okay?" Bert asked.

    she

    "They should be fine after some rest. It was all in the scroll. It described a burst of long-lasting energy followed by a sudden, extreme weakness when it wears off."

    "I wouldn''t worry," she added when she noticed the concern written on the faces of Cal and Bert.

    Rosie let out an indelicate snore and a snort, while George''s chest rose and fell smoothly, the man was quiet even in sleep. It was one of the things she liked about him, that, and he didn''t attempt to flirt with her as Cal and Bert did. A rare find.

    "Are you sure?" Cal asked.

    She wasn''t one hundred per cent sure, but she nodded anyway. She was no alchemist, though that didn''t mean she had been completely untutored in potions, supplements and remedies. While she knew not how to make them, she could at least recognise and categorise them as any good merchant should. Not that she wanted to be a merchant any longer, that much had been made clear to her over her Climb.

    Even now, exhausted as she was, the thrill of the adventure burned brightly in her chest. Or perhaps that was simply Essence of Fire, it could sometimes be hard to tell the difference. Not that she cared, both flames were a welcome, warming intoxication.

    Cal sighed in relief and Lauren scanned the small room as she puffed up her pillow. Just across from her, the two newcomers set up their own beds, Jane lay down to get some sleep while Toby sat beside her, watching over her.

    She

    was simplyto be expected,

    At first, being surrounded by the scroungers and scavengers had rankled. She and Fritz were far beyond their station she was surprised they even dared talk to them. Over time though, seeing the way they began to shine in their respective roles, and noticing that they had a backbone born of struggle, she began to doubt the conventional wisdom about the low-born and the working folk.

    much trouble.

    Was that why Fritz almost treated them as equals? To try to bring out that hidden worth? Or was it to foster powerful servants that owed him more than they could ever repay, ensuring their eternal loyalty?

    his T

    C

    m

    "Jane," Lauren called gently before the woman fell asleep.

    "Yes?" Jane replied, tiredly.

    "How are you feeling?"

    "Tired. How do you think?" Jane grumbled.

    Lauren didn''t reply right away, instead, she removed her boots, slipped into her own bedroll and covered herself in the wondrous sirensilk.

    "That''s good to hear, sleep well," she eventually said. When her head met her pillow she was out in seconds, before she could even hear the muttered reply.

    ---

    "Sleep well," Jane said softly.

    Lauren seemed not to hear her, but that was fine. Toby looked down and gave Jane a rare smile. She smiled back.

    "What''s got you smilin''," she whispered.

    "It''s good to see you making a friend," he whispered back. "You need one."

    All I need is you, Toby, she thought as she grasped his hand and held it.

    "I can''t work out her game," Jane admitted.

    "What?"

    "Her scheme."

    "You think she''s after something?"

    "The pretty ones always are."This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "Oh, she''s pretty? I hadn''t noticed," Toby said, quickly dropping down and kissing her cheek.

    grin

    "Don''t lie to me. As if you haven''t noticed,"

    Toby shrugged.

    "But she doesn''t seem interested in you," Jane observed. "Unlike that scaly slut. So I don''t know what she wants from us."

    "If she doesn''t care for me she must be after you," Toby said.

    "Idiot," she said squeezing his hand. "But I don''t think it''s that."

    "Maybe she''s just lonely," Toby said thoughtfully. "Surrounded by men, like you are."

    "I don''t care about that," Jane argued.

    "But she might," Toby said.

    He was likely right, this time, mostly though he could be rather dense about such things. It came with his moods, he was always most observant when not in one of his dark depressions, like now. He almost looked happy. Was it because of the baby? Or maybe that Fritz and Bert still lived? She hoped it was the baby. Though she was afraid, deep down she was giddy at the thought of being a mother.

    She''d be a better mother than her own, she wouldn''t throw her child to the street or try to sell her. She''d be loving and good, not a drunk, bitter whore.

    a

    Under Toby''s watchful, sad gaze, she let herself relax, then she began to drift off.

    ---

    Rosie woke up, she was starving. There was a hole in her stomach that needed to be filled.

    "Cal," she said. "I''m hungry."

    "I saved you some shark," Cal replied handing her a bowl.

    She sat up, her whole body hurt.

    She took the offered food and chomped down the fried shark.

    It was great. Much better than rat.

    "Mmm," she groaned. "Good stuff."

    "Thanks," Cal said. "How are you feeling."

    "Still hungry," she replied through a mouthful of shark. "And achy."

    Cal put his hand over her bowl and another fillet fell out from thin air.

    "Thanks," Rosie said, beaming. "The hurt isn''t bad. Not as bad as when I was stabbed."

    "That''s good," Cal sighed. "Now that you''re awake, I''ll get some sleep."

    "Okay. I''ll make sure you''re safe," Rosie said proudly.

    "Night," Cal said.

    "Night."

    Rosie ate until she felt full, then ate the last three bites. She had never been so well fed, but now she was bored. She had also never been so surrounded by handsome men. And they were all so close, stuck together in this small room. Noticing that made her feel a different kind of hunger. Another ache added to the others with nowhere to go.

    She turned her gaze to Toby, who was still awake and looking around. Their eyes met and a shiver ran down her spine. She winked at the man, but that deepened his scowl. She quickly licked her dry lips and he looked away.

    That was fine. It was what she expected, she knew she was ugly. If she was a beauty like Lauren they''d all be lining up to have a tumble. It was unfair, good looks were wasted on that stuck-up bitch. Too prude and proper. But when was anything fair? As the saying goes: life is hard and then you die.

    Rosie scanned the room, everyone but Bert and Toby were asleep.

    Maybe Bert would be up for it. She doubted it, everyone else had rejected her. But you never knew until you asked and offered. She crawled over and sat before him, he turned his amber eyes to her and grinned. His clothes were clean and whole again somehow. They were probably magic.

    "Rosie, how are you?" He asked softly.

    "Hurt, but okay," she said. "How ''bout you? You torn up bad by the sharks?"

    "That''s right, ripped to shreds," Bert boasted, showing off a big, tasty arm, covered in still-healing cuts.

    Rosie stared for a moment, or three, before returning her gaze to his.

    "Are you up for some wrestling?" She asked, raising one eyebrow as she''d seen the working girls do.

    It was some kind of signal that would let men know what you were offering, or so she had been told when she''d asked. As coming right out and saying it had failed so far she thought she''d try to be sly.

    "What? Spar? Right now? When we''re still recovering?" Bert asked.

    She stared at him. Raising her eyebrow again. Maybe she wasn''t doing it right.

    He grinned wider. His smile made him look so good.

    "It doesn''t have to be that hard," she hedged.

    not what I''ve been toldh

    Was that a joke? It was always hard to tell. She decided to stop being sly.

    H

    "Oh," Bert said, looking her over with a glint in his eye. He was giving her offer some thought. No recoiling, no flinching or harsh words. That was a good sign.

    "We can''t, we''re too hurt, it''s too crowded," he said. "And we''re in a Spire. Fritz would have a fit."

    Rosie''s shoulders sagged. She was sad, but it went just as she knew it would.

    "On the outside," he mused. "That''s another story."

    H

    "When we get out, let''s get a drink," He said, his grin gaining a lusty edge.

    She nodded, she nodded so fast and hard her neck cramped.

    ---

    H

    He let out a groan and his stomach rumbled.

    Staring around blearily, he searched for his pack, he needed to eat something, even if it was those terrible rations. Fortunately, he spotted something far better, a bowl piled with three strips of fried shark. It was cold, and even more chewy than when it was hot, but they would fill him and fuel him all the same.

    He ate slowly, making sure to not make himself sick by shovelling everything down. He saw the noise makers, Bert and Rosie sitting together as they talked quietly. Or what passed as quietly for those two.

    t

    George pulled his bag to himself and began pouring over the tiles, trying to memorise the stances and sweeping strikes. It wasn''t effective practice but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing. That, and the Technique intrigued him, not just for the power it would confer, but for the love of swords and the sublime art of swordplay.

    Every time he used Sever it felt wonderful to carve cleanly through beasts, however, more and more it felt like cheating. Even if he knew to wasn''t.

    "What have you got there?" The man named Toby asked.

    George didn''t bother to look at him, he''d done so already. He could admit Toby was handsome, but not his type, too thin in the body and too long in the face.

    "Tiles," George said.

    "From the library?"

    George nodded.

    "A Technique?"

    George shrugged.

    Toby nodded, then he moved closer, inclining his head as if asking permission to look them over with him.

    George nodded.

    poured

    s

    "How''d Fritz rope you into all this?" He asked.

    George shrugged. "He said he was Climbing, and I asked to come."

    "You volunteered?" Toby said with some small shock.

    "I did," George agreed.

    "Why? He''s mad," Toby said.

    George frowned, it was one thing to think so affectionately, but this accusation irked him. "It''s worked out so far. Better than I could have wished."

    George didn''t reply, there wasn''t anything to say to such words.

    "W

    "If that leads to the top, then that''s fine," George stated, annoyance creeping into his tone.

    "It''s your skin," Toby said.

    Fritz had saved these two, forgiven their betrayal and still they spoke ill of him. Some part of him wanted to berate the man, set him right and defend Fritz''s and his own honour. But he could see that would do nothing but start a fight and wake the sleeping.

    Tthese days

    Toby shuffled away, leaving George to his tiles and his beating, bottled anger.

    unyielding

    This time something was different. The stiffness and rigidity he felt in his muscles when he tempered his temper, compressed within his body, his muscles felt like corded steel. He stood swiftly, holding onto the feeling, reducing his blade''s length to that of a longsword. He took his stance, legs wide, and slightly bent, then he straightened his back, bracing himself.

    His sudden rise and the brandishing of his sword caused a stir. Toby quailed, Bert and Rosie looked on with glinting eyes.

    George ignored them all, focusing only on this copper sword and his body. He concentrated on the tension within, holding on with furious strength. From his study of the tiles, he knew he had to stay tense throughout the entire movement, that he had to maintain the solidity of stone through the entire cut. Attempting to stay still and swing at the same moment.

    His surroundings felt thick

    Then he swung.

    It was only an inch of movement at first, then another, then, with all the power of an avalanche, the blade cut a horizontal arc in less than a heartbeat. His blade sparked off the Well, clanging like a bell and starling everyone awake. Jane sat up quickly, Toby sprang to his feet, Fritz was a flurry of graceful motion and Cal rolled over to look at the, now notched, column. Bert and Rosie simply kept watching.

    They all stared at him and he grinned.

    Normally George would be embarrassed by such attention. But he had no time to feel that, not with the tremor that rolled over his Sanctum. It must be the feeling of a Technique taking root if the descriptions from Bert were true.

    "What was that?" Cal complained, looking around wildly.

    Fritz was on his feet, Quicksilver bared, he glanced over George with hazy eyes, noticed his smile and yawned out, "Congratulations."

    Then he went right back to bed.

    The team were no longer shocked and staring, they were glaring. Except for Bert of course, he was grinning like he always did.

    He

    "Sorry," George said.

    Cal glowered and rolled over grumbling something, while Toby shot him a filthy look and draped himself around Jane whose eyes were daggers. Lauren, who was between himself and Jane, had a stormy expression and her eyes were alight with a ring of orange flame.

    "Sorry," he said again. "I didn''t mean to wake you all, I was just so close to understanding the Technique. And I couldn''t let it slip by."

    "Did you learn it at least," Lauren seethed. "Or did you wake me for no reason?"

    "I think I did," George hedged, having not checked his Sanctum and spire sheet yet.

    "That''s great!" Bert boomed.

    "Shhh," Cal hissed.

    "Quiet," Fritz groaned. "Trying to sleep...have you no manners?"

    "Sorry," Bert said. "That''s great," he added in a whispered yell.

    George smiled and the rest of the team grumbled and tried to get back to sleep.

    "No more swords tonight," Lauren warned.

    "Of course," George said.

    She lowered her head to her pillow, pulled at her robes to smooth out its bunching fabric and pulled her sirensilk sheet over her head.

    "What''s it called?" Bert asked softly.

    "Yeah, is it one of the famous ones?" Rosie added quietly.

    "I''ll have to check. One moment."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 60

    George dropped into his Sanctum, felt the heat of the forge, and saw the orange glow reflected on the swords he proudly displayed on the stone brick walls.

    He didn''t let himself get distracted by the different shapes and makes of his blades, instead, he called upon his Spire sheet.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: George Anchor

    Level: 9

    Path: Swordsman

    Strain: Human

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 15

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 18

    Perception: 9

    Focus: 6

    Memory: 0

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Might: 12

    Speed: 9

    Essence of Fire: 6

    Essence of Metal: 9

    ---------

    Activated 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Sharpen Blade

    With some honing, an edge can sing, sheathe in sharpness, and set to swing.

    ---

    Harden Metal

    Stronger, tougher, surely lent, braced and bolstered, never bent.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    Armourclad Acclimation

    When wearing iron, mind your gait, walk with purpose, to ease the weight.

    ---

    Sure Grip

    Fingers rigid, clutching on, a grip like iron, holding strong.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Forgeheart

    Pumping, pounding, hammer''s beat. Scorching, striving, brutal heat.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Sever

    The razored edge, the sword''s sharp call, the brightest blade, cleaves through all.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Peak Splitter (Novice)

    Mountains, monsters, all the same, mete out slaughter, be titan''s bane.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    There it was, and the Technique was one of the renowned styles. It was an enormous boon, a wondrous find.

    He laughed, he leapt, he swept a sword off the wall and swished it around in great gleaming arcs. He spun like he was dancing. Suddenly he stopped, he had to share the good news. He placed the sword back on its hooks and made to leave his Sanctum.

    "What is it? Is it the mist style?" Bert asked as soon as George opened his eyes.

    The mention of mist style dampened his mood somewhat, he had been hoping the same, even if the stances and sweeps felt nothing like mist would. Or so he had guessed. But nothing could suppress the joy in his heart at discovering the amazing Technique he had learned.

    "No, not the mist style," George said, drawing out the silence, letting the two stew in the anticipation.

    "Come on, tell us already," Rosie hissed.

    "Peak Splitter," he announced quietly.

    Bert grinned wide and Rosie tilted her head.

    "Is that a good one?" She asked.

    "Must be," Bert said "Look at his grin."

    "It is ''a good one''," George explained. "It comes from the Eternal Kingdom. I heard that there''s a Mountain Spire and that the mountain peaks around it grow like trees. This Technique was devised to cut the ever-growing peaks down like wheat for harvest. It also worked ruin on their local monsters, and titans."

    "That''s absurd," Bert said. "Now I want to use a sword. Lucky bastard."

    With those last words an old hurt stirred and George frowned.

    Bert winced.

    "Sorry, George," he said. "I didn''t mean anything by it. Most of us here are bastards one way or another."

    apology

    BC

    That was neither here nor there, again, not anymore, he was well on his way to further, loftier, heights. One more Floor and he''d be able to show everyone what he was worth. Some petty part of him wanted to rub their faces in it, including his father''s ever-disappointed scowl.

    "So what does the Technique do?" Rosie asked.

    "I... uh... didn''t look at it," George admitted.

    "Got too excited?" Bert said.

    "What? No, I just-" George protested.

    "I understand," Bert interrupted soberly, leaning over and laying a hand on George''s shoulder. "Fighting is fun."

    Bert squeezed and George laughed at how serious the man looked. Bert broke into another grin and laughed with him.

    There was an annoyed grunt and Cal turned over and glared at them.

    "Sorry," Bert and George said in unison.

    Cal glowered.

    "Now that you''re up, how about breakfast?" Bert asked hopefully.

    Cal

    "I guess that''s a no," Bert said.

    "Just give him a couple more hours," Rosie said. "He''ll be right by then."

    "But I''m hungry now," Bert complained insincerely.

    "I''m going to check my Technique," George stated, retreating into the heat of his Sanctum.

    He strode away from the forge and into the armoury, where barrels and tables held various armour and armaments. Though most of the items within were swords. He brought up his Spire sheet again and focused on the Technique glyphs.

    ---------

    Technique

    ---------

    Peak Splitter

    Mountains, monsters, all the same, mete out slaughter, be titan''s bane.

    Gives minor benefits to Strength and Might when striking with swords.

    Armour and Durability are less effective against your sword''s edge.

    These benefits increase when you are standing in place.

    These benefits increase when you fight foes of greater size.

    These benefits increase when you fight foes who outnumber you.

    Abilities gained and Evolved are more likely to be influenced with these effects.

    ---

    You read, practised and understood the Techniques in the replicated tiles of The Wall of the Peak Spitter''s Instructions.

    ---

    ---------

    Amazing. Truly powerful. With this Technique, his strikes would be devastating even without using Sever. And with it, he would be a true terror.

    He couldn''t wait to test it.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    He left his Sanctum and explained what he had read to Bert and Rosie.

    "Wow," Bert said appreciatively.

    "I know," George said, letting some pride seep into his voice.

    "Wish I had somethin'' like that," Rosie said.

    "What?" Bert said putting on an air of affront. "Is the Arte Pugilist not good enough for you? Was all our training wasted?"

    "Not wasted," Rosie said, grinning. "I like wrestling. It''s fun."

    George coughed as the two grinned at each other.

    "I could teach both of you the Technique if you wanted," he offered.

    "Nah," Bert said. "My style requires mobility, I can''t afford to stay still. And I don''t use swords."

    "Now that you say it, I don''t use swords either," Rosie said thoughtfully. "And I have to move around to protect the team. No good for me either."

    George could understand their reasoning, but it was a little disappointing not being able to share his new Technique. Perhaps Fritz would be interested, and it might be fun sparring with the man.

    was acting

    Though he felt drained himself, his mind was aflame with curiosity. He went back to his tiles, the replica tiles he now knew, and began to pour over them again.

    Hours passed, and finally, Cal woke, he didn''t start on breakfast right away as the pan needed to be heated and Lauren still slept. The woman slept as still as a doll, she made not a sound as her chest only barely rose and fell. It was somewhat eerie, and somewhat at odds with his impression of what a fire mage should be like. Though she wasn''t typical, none of them really were.

    Cal would also glance to her, obviously afraid to wake her. There was more than a little affection in his eyes, but he no longer stared at her like a gormless fool. It was only a slight improvement. George shook his head, that man was as blind as a skulg. There was no romance to be had in that harbour.

    Eventually, Lauren awoke, and she was almost happy to assist in heating the pan.

    Soon sizzling could be heard and Bert didn''t even have to be roused, he was up in moments. In fact, all of the team, save Fritz, were up and waiting to be served.

    "I''m going to need a bigger pan," Cal groused.

    ---

    Fritz woke to the sound of retching, which wasn''t a good way to wake. Though at least it wasn''t his own sickness being splattered over the distraught and disgusted Toby.

    "Does anyone have a bucket?" Toby cried.

    "Here," George said, handing him the iron pot which was quickly given to Jane.

    She clutched hard it with pale fingers, and retched further, losing what remained in her stomach.

    Fritz grimaced, reconsidering how true her claim of being with child was. It could still be a scheme, she could have induced this bout of sickness. But it didn''t match what he knew of her, and anyone who had faced starvation wouldn''t waste a full belly in such a way. It wouldn''t even occur to them.

    No, it looked like she hadn''t been lying about that. He more was sure of it now. And it made him glad he hadn''t punished them as his Dusksong demanded. He knew there wasn''t much logic to it, no rationality, but the raw disgust he felt at the thought of slaughtering a mother and child made him feel as sick as Jane looked.

    Maybe it had something to do with losing his own mother-

    No, none of that, not now.

    "Fritz, you''re awake. Good morning," George said.

    "Fritz!" Bert cried. "George learnt the Technique on the tiles. Oh, and are you feeling better?"

    "I am, and I know," Fritz stated, he turned his gaze to George and added, "Well done, I knew you could do it."

    He, of course, did not believe what he said, but the man smiled a lot and blushed a little. It must have been the heat. It was getting rather stuffy in the Well Room, what with the whole team bunched up as they were.

    The smell of sick reached Fritz''s nose, and he almost refused the bowl of shark strips presented to him. He didn''t as he couldn''t afford to pass up a meal. Not with what was ahead of them.

    He listened to George expound on his new Technique, Peak Splitter. Fritz had heard of it in passing and was interested before he heard the benefits it conferred. It would be basically useless for his own style of combat. He required something fast and flighty, graceful, like the mist style was said to be, not something that was made to cut mountains. Though the image did appeal to him.

    Fritz sighed inwardly, he wasn''t that kind of stalwart hero, he was another sort entirely, gallant and guileful.

    He did agree, however, to sparring with the man, perhaps at the precipice or perhaps after. It would be good to test his skills against such an opponent and seemingly George wanted to continue in this team. Fritz would be glad to have him, the man was solid and strong, even if he was not one to talk much. Though that could be an advantage in a Climbing team, especially as people began to get on each other''s nerves.

    Like Cal and Toby were right now.

    "Just cook another," Toby said sourly.

    "What so she could spit it up again?" Cal argued.

    "We have enough shark don''t we?" Toby replied.

    "We do, but we shouldn''t waste it," Cal stated.

    "It''s not a waste," Toby growled.

    Fritz was about to intervene when Lauren did for him.

    "Cal, be a dear and do it would you," she said sweetly. "You wouldn''t really deny someone in her condition, would you?" She added with a sublimely subtle pout.

    Cal sighed.

    "No, of course not," he said, setting another fillet of pale flesh on the pan. "Heat please."

    Lauren acquiesced, then glared at Toby as if he should know better.

    Cal

    When all had eaten breakfast, Fritz called a meeting. He needn''t have, it was impossible to speak in such small confines without including everyone in the conversation.

    "We have a choice of Three Doors, though I think we should rest up a little more before going through the very last Floor," Fritz declared.

    "What about the spite?" Cal asked, glancing darkly at Toby who glowered back.

    "It seems to have levelled off, somewhat," Fritz said. "I haven''t felt any bursts or changes and the Doors feel the same to my Senses for now."

    "I wonder why that is," Lauren said while brushing her dark hair absently. "Do you think it will get worse when we go through the next Door?"

    "I don''t know," Fritz said. "Maybe."

    Lauren frowned, she looked down at her brush, noticed something amiss and pulled out a hair from its bristles. "Does this look...redder to you?" She asked holding the strand out.

    It did. Or at least it did to Fritz, and he said so while the others merely shrugged.

    "Damn," Lauren sighed.

    "What''s wrong?"

    "It''s Essence of Fire. I think it''s changing my hair colour," Lauren explained.

    "It can do that?" Bert asked.

    "I''ve heard rumours, tales really, that it can," Lauren said.

    "Why is that bad? You''d look great as a redhead," Cal said eagerly.

    Lauren frowned, seemingly unimpressed by the compliment.

    "It''s just so..." she began.

    "Cliche," Jane and Lauren said together, then they shared a smile.

    "What''s through these Doors, Fritz?" Bert asked, turning everyone''s attention back to him.

    "Another shore, with monsters, and some sort of limes, which leads me to think of jungle," he explained.

    "Got some sort of Citrus Sense now?" Toby asked drily.

    "If only," Fritz said, feigning despair. "I merely scented them on the breeze."

    "Mmm, some lime juice would go good with the shark," Bert said. "I vote that Door."

    "Maybe we should hear about the others first," Jane said. "Rather than vote with our bellies."

    "Quite," Lauren agreed.

    "The middle Door is underwater as you can plainly see," Fritz continued. "It is also riddled with monsters."

    "No good. We may have the potions and gill-grease, but our Powers don''t work well underwater," Lauren stated.

    "I agree," Cal said.

    "As do I," Fritz said. "The last, and my least regarded, Door is the right one. There seems to be no monsters within, but something about it makes me uneasy. Like there''s some invisible weight beyond that would press upon us, unyielding, as we traversed the floor."

    "I don''t like it. Just lookin'' at it makes me feel like my clothes are too heavy," Rosie added.

    "That would be your Awareness divining some of the hidden signs," Fritz stated, nodding in agreement.

    "It''s also pink," Bert said as if it offended him.

    "Is that a terrible crime now, is it?" Lauren asked.

    "It is for a Door," Bert espoused.

    "So we have monsters and limes, monsters and water and a heavy walk?" Toby asked, ignoring the absurdity.

    "That''s right," Fritz said.

    The team went quiet, considering the choices before them.

    "Any idea what kind of monsters?" Cal asked hopefully.

    Fritz hesitated but quickly decided to tell them what he knew. It was the last floor, and with the spite looming over them, he could see no reason to be as guarded with them. He''d rather put off his death for the outside, if it could be helped.

    D

    "Eely?" Jane asked sceptically.

    "You mean eerie," Toby said.

    "I mean what I said," Fritz protested. "Eely, eelful, as in full of eels."

    "Eels you say," Bert said. "That rings a bell."

    "Does it?" Fritz asked blandly.

    "Yes. Remember Therima and Sertine?" Bert said.

    "No," Fritz said.

    "The Raider''s team?" Bert provided.

    "Oh, right, those two," Fritz said, feeling only slightly annoyed he needed the reminder.

    "They said their last Floor had eels on it," Bert regaled him and the team.

    "I didn''t catch all that," Fritz said. "I was more preoccupied with the crazed raider glaring at me. You see, I had the strange sense he was plotting my murder. I wonder why."

    "Yes, yes. I get it, you were distracted by the strange, scowling, bearded man," Bert said.

    rrived

    "And they mentioned eels," Toby said.

    "They did... lightning eels," Bert said.

    The Fritz grimaced and the rest of the team frowned.

    "That''s not so bad," Rosie said. "They''re harmless, just a little shock. Unless they bite you, they hold on like bastards."

    "These would be monstrous eels," Lauren said with a sigh. "I suspect their ''small shock'' will be far more intense."

    "Deadly even," Fritz posited.

    "The pink door is starting to sound more appealing," Jane said.

    "At least with the eels we''ll know what we''ll be up against," Bert said.

    "If it''s the same Door," Fritz countered. "Which is unlikely."

    "Probably impossible," Lauren added.

    "You''re right," Bert sighed. "And here I was getting excited to fight an aberrant eel."

    "Aberrant!?" Most of the team cried.

    "Oh, I must have missed that. Yeah, there was a really big one that loomed above the water and loosed bolts of lightning," Bert explained. "Sertine said he used his swords to draw the lightning away. Turned them to slag!"

    o

    ! N

    "Alas, my foot," Fritz grumbled.

    "If, as you say, there was an aberrant and it wasn''t slain. It changes things," Lauren said.

    "It does?" Fritz inquired.

    "It does!?" Bert blurted.

    "Yes. Apparently, Doors with aberrant beasts are ''sticky''," she explained.

    "Sticky? Feels rough to me," Bert said, rubbing a hand on the Door''s sandy edge.

    Lauren rolled her eyes.

    "That''s not what I meant, and you know it," she said.

    Bert grinned.

    "And what does ''sticky'' mean?" Fritz asked.

    "I''m not entirely sure, but doors with an aberrant are like persistent Doors," she explained. "Spires keep them open until the aberrant is destroyed, though sometimes they move the Doors around."

    "And change them?" Fritz asked, thinking of the Hound''s Floor and the strange ageing he had witnessed.

    She shook her head. "I haven''t heard that."

    "And where did you hear all this? Are you some sort of Guide''s child? Like-" Toby asked, cut off by a soft elbow from Jane.

    "No, I''m not. I heard this from a friend," Lauren said primly, smoothing her robes.

    "From Sapphire," Bert grinned, a teasing gleam in his eye.

    Lauren ignored the man.

    "My friend works with the Guides Guild. She''s an apprentice," she espoused.

    "I thought she was an appraiser," Cal said.

    "That''s part of the Guide training," Lauren said.

    "Makes sense. The best way to grab the best loot is to know what is most valuable," Toby said.

    "Another way to cheat the Climbers," Fritz groused.

    "Sapphire assured me that they wouldn''t do so. It would damage the Guild''s reputation," Lauren said, tilting her chin slightly upwards.

    C

    "They''d find out once they get to the market," Lauren said.

    "If they''re not cheated there too," Jane said.

    "All of you really are cynical. Paranoid. Not a scrap of trust to be had between you all," Lauren observed, frowning.

    "Thank you," Fritz said, smirking.

    "It wasn''t a compliment," she replied.

    "Nevertheless, you can''t tell me that you or your mother haven''t tricked some poor Climber. Paid them far less than what the item was worth," Fritz said. "How does the saying go? An honest merchant is a poor merchant?"

    Lauren didn''t answer, her face a mask of indifference.

    D

    "So it might well be the Door filled with lightning eels," he stated.

    "It might well be," Lauren agreed, seemingly glad that the conversation had moved on.

    "Anyone notice anything else or have any ideas?" Fritz asked.

    The team waited for some moments before Rosie spoke up.

    "My ring makes eels like me, or could lure them to me, that should help if we go with the left Door."

    "Huh," Fritz said. He had never thought the thing to be useful.

    "Another point for the eely Door," Bert said eagerly.

    "Speaking of rings, I should recharge my barrier ring," Fritz said, mostly to Lauren, who held the gold.

    She quickly took his meaning and handed him the sack with their triads within.

    He fed his empty ring triads until it could eat no more, which turned out to be six of the remaining twelve triads. He grimaced as the meagre coins clinked. To his finely tuned ears, it sounded like poverty.

    "Didn''t you lot pry off some of the gold gilding in the vault? What happened to that?" He asked.

    Bert glowered. "It was fake. Fake! Can you believe that?!"

    "I can," Fritz said. "Probably some stupid lesson about how knowledge is the true treasure."

    "That is stupid," Bert agreed.

    "Can I fill my ring too?" Rosie asked. "If we''re going to fight eels the bait power could group them together for a roastin''."

    "Very tactically astute, Rosie," Fritz said. "If we pick that Door, we should absolutely do so."

    Again the team went quiet.

    Fritz retreated into his thoughts, pondering the way forward. He immediately discarded the thought of taking the underwater floor, it was as Lauren said, their powers weren''t well suited for the depths. So for him, it was between the leftmost and rightmost Doors. He considered the impression of heaviness he had sensed from the pink Door. It would be tough, but bearable. Unfortunately, there was no telling what the spite would do on a Floor with no monsters. The effects might even be worse, and he suspected the Spire would increase the heaviness, gradually increasing it until they fell or were crushed.

    It almost pained him to agree with Bert, the eel Door seemed the best of their options, even if it contained the aberrant. At least they would know what they were going to fight, and if it was a different Floor entirely that would still be easier to handle than the unassailable weight. It just wasn''t something you could fight with weapons or their meagre magics.

    With his own thoughts aligned, he called the vote.

    "Right Door," he announced.

    No one raised their hands.

    "Middle Door," he stated.

    Again, no votes.

    "Left Door," Fritz sighed, putting up his own hand as Bert''s own flew into the air.

    The rest of the team''s arms went up, tentatively.

    And so the way was chosen.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 61

    With the vote settled, Fritz gave out his next orders.

    "We''ll rest up, get all of you healed, and make sure you have at least one activation of your defensive Treasures," he stated.

    "Rosie, your ring will also need to be filled," he added. "The tactical value is too great not to use."

    Those with such Treasures approached and the very last of their gold was spent.

    "There it all goes," Bert bemoaned.

    "We''ll be rewarded heavily at the top, especially since this will be a Golden Climb. And as long as this isn''t your fourth time here, you''ll get the Silver Climb chests," Lauren said. "So don''t complain so much, I hear the reward is quite generous."

    "How generous?" Toby asked.

    "Well, bronze gives out fifteen gold triads, Silver rewards thirty and Gold are said to hand out sixty. That, and the seeds, which can be very lucrative," Lauren explained.

    Fritz almost frowned, sixty triads was thirty less than what they had received from their Golden Chests in the Sunken Spire.

    "Seeds? Like from aberrant beasts?" Toby asked.

    "Yes, but these come pre-refined with the choice of an Ability. The better the quality the more choices you can pick from to store within the Seed," Lauren said. "Though I''ve heard Bronze Seed''s don''t even give you a choice, just give you something random. Usually related to the Spire in question."

    "Do you get these same rewards if you Climb the same spire over and over?" Cal asked, seemingly wondering if he could make a fortune on seeds.

    "No, repeat climbs only give the bronze reward. Without the Seeds," Lauren said. "I''m surprised you don''t know all about this. It should be common knowledge for Climbers."

    "We weren''t all set to be climbers," Jane said. "Didn''t have that hope, or even the comfort of that hope."

    "And it''s easy to miss these things when you''re focused on survival," Toby added.

    Lauren considered this and nodded once.

    "Anything else we should know about the precipice Well?" Fritz asked.

    Lauren shrugged.

    "There are the Awards, but I don''t know much about them. I think one of them gives benefits to swimming, that would be the bronze one. As for Silver and Gold, we''ll just have to find out."

    "What are Awards?" Jane asked, quirking her head.

    Lauren looked like she was going to chide them on their lack of knowledge again, but seemed to think better of it and explained, "They''re like Abilities. Passives mostly."

    "Will it be a choice like the others?" Cal asked.

    "No, you just get them all. Though there are only three slots, one for each ranking, Gold, Silver and Bronze."

    "What happens if you already have Awards?" Bert asked, as innocently as he could.

    Fritz could see Lauren suppress an eye-roll at the almost admission.

    "If one already has Awards, say from Climbing another, perhaps secret, Spire," Lauren began sweetly.

    "Hah, as if something like that exists," Bert blurted. "Right, Cal."

    "Right," Cal hedged.

    This lie might have worked if the team didn''t already know him so well and have their own suspicions, as it was it just served to make him, and by extension Fritz, look more guilty of hiding such a secret.

    Lauren ignored them both and continued in that same saccharine tone, "If someone had such Awards, you would still receive them and have the chance to swap them out immediately. If not they''re added to your store of Awards and become inactive."

    "Are they stuck like that? Can you change them up if you wanted to?" Bert asked.

    "You can swap them out. Though you need a Well and there''s a refresh period of nine days between each," Lauren said.

    "For someone that claims not to know much about Awards, you do seem to know a lot," Fritz noted.

    "Thank you," Lauren replied.

    "No. Thank you," Bert said.

    "So if you keep Climbing different Spires you''ll eventually hoard a bunch of useless inactive Awards?" Fritz asked.

    "Not useless, they''re used for Ability Ascension. Like seeds can be," Lauren explained. "Though we''re far away from that, you need to Evolve an Ability to its limit before you Ascend it."

    This was news to Fritz, and he wondered at the implications, even if, as she had said, they were far from such things. Did he make a mistake using his Golden Seed as he did?

    It didn''t really matter, what was done was done. Though it still felt frustrating to not have all this information that Lauren seemed to take for granted. Not for the first time, he despaired, knowing that, if his father had lived, these truths, and more secrets besides, would have been his.

    "What does that all mean though?" Rosie asked, scratching at a small patch of scales on her neck.

    "You get a bunch of free passives," Cal summarised.

    "Ah, that''s good!" Rosie said.

    "Yes," Lauren agreed. "It is good."

    "Can''t wait to see what our first Awards will be," Bert said, fooling no one, save, perhaps, Cal and Rosie.

    Inwardly, Fritz sighed, he''d have to draw an oath from each of them regarding those secrets. Even if they could simply go back on it, it might give them pause. He knew it would, were it him.

    "I wonder what it would give us, are they always the same for each team?" Cal asked.

    "Everyone on the same team will get the same Awards. The Bronze Award is always the same as well. As for the Gold and Silver ones, I heard that there''s some small variation depending on what Floors and trials you triumphed over," Lauren provided.

    "Maybe we''ll get a fire one, due to the hidden door," George added.

    "Unlikely to be fire," Lauren said with some disappointment. "Though you may be right in that we could get some odder Awards than the usual."

    "All thanks to our expert Scout," Bert proclaimed. "And his heroic companion."

    "Don''t thank me all at once," Fritz said. "In fact leave all the worship I''m due for the precipice. I''ll be happy to hear it then."

    "So beneficent," Lauren said blandly.

    "What?" Rosie asked.

    "Nevermind," Lauren sighed.

    "Jane, your Lifewell should be all filled up by now, can you heal the team''s lingering wounds?"

    "Sure," she readily agreed.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Soon what injuries remained on he and Bert were healed with that pale, green thread. Then Jane aided the others, soothing the minor cuts and scrapes that hadn''t been closed by the Well and they had been bearing with little complaint.

    They really were shaping up, hardened by the Climb, just as he was.

    When the healing was done and there was nothing left to address, the team took their rest. Occupying themselves with whatever distraction they could find.

    Lauren and Jane struck up a stilted conversation. Fritz could tell Jane was intimidated by the striking woman, suspicious of her intentions, but she soon lowered her guard at a nudge from Toby. In minutes they were chatting amiably, about this and that, small gossip and tales of the streets seemed to intrigue Lauren when it was told from Jane''s perspective.

    Fritz wasn''t sure how he felt about this development. It was good that Lauren might find a friend. He had a notion that she was lonely, as sometimes an ephemeral, cold breeze would blow around her. But did that friend have to be Jane? That could end messily.

    However, he quickly noticed a friendship that had the potential to be even messier. Bert and Rosie were sitting together and talking about some nonsense. Fritz could see faint, red sparks flitting between them.

    He frowned. That wasn''t love or even affection, just lust. It was said that there was no accounting for taste, but that didn''t apply to Bert, for he had none to speak of. Fritz had half a mind to interfere and split the two wanton wretches up, when he spotted something else in the corner of his eye. He spun on the darting shadow and found... nothing.

    Again, he frowned.

    "What''s wrong?" Toby asked.

    "Thought I saw something," Fritz said.

    "What did you see?"

    "It''s gone," Fritz said. He shook his head. "It doesn''t matter."

    Toby shrugged. "If you say so."

    Fritz sat and quickly found himself bored. He glanced around the room and discovered that none of the conversations going on were interesting. Looking for a distraction, he started rooting around in his pack. He pulled out the red gem from the library. He''d seen something in it before and now he wanted to take the time to intensely investigate it.

    Thankfully, no one interrupted him as he studied its fine, fascinating facets, both inside and out. There was something to the lines, the angles and the shapes within. He felt like he was missing something, some crucial secret that when discovered would reveal all the knowledge hidden away in the gem''s scattered scarlet depths.

    There was a puzzle there, one he could solve, given time. Hours passed and Fritz grew frustrated that the secret eluded him, he had only grasped it had something to do with light. Perhaps it needed a certain kind, like moonlight or firelight, or maybe the shining light of the sun. All kinds of illumination he had no clear path to.

    Fritz heard a whisper right behind him. He turned to the speaker and found nobody there.

    Fritz frowned and put the gem away, the long period of focus had strained his eyes and his patience. He wished there was some space to move. He needed to pace. He always thought better while on his feet.

    Fritz stood and stretched, glancing around the room only to see similar restlessness suffusing Bert, Cal and Rosie. They tapped feet and fingers, looked around aimlessly and sighed long weary sighs.

    "Is it time for food yet?" Bert asked.

    "Sure," Cal said sullenly.

    "What''s got you down?" Fritz asked.

    Cal shrugged and Fritz waited for him to speak.

    "Feels like we''re wasting time," he eventually said.

    "We need the rest," Fritz said, even if he felt the same. "We need to be at our best before we take on the last Floor."

    "I know, just a feelin'', it''s probably wrong," he replied, pulling out his pan and waving at Lauren.

    The fire mage approached and heated the iron of the pan.

    "It might be the spite," she posited.

    "Can it do that?" Fritz asked.

    "I don''t know," she admitted. "Though it wouldn''t surprise me if it could mess with your emotions. If it can shroud Senses why not cloud our minds and spirits? We should ignore it, and Fritz is right, we need the rest, my legs are still killing me."

    Before Bert or Cal could make the ill-conceived offer of a massage, Fritz spoke up, "I think you have the truth of it, Lauren. We''ve barely been in this Well room a day and we''re already itching to get out."

    She nodded.

    "I just wish we had something to do," Bert complained. "A game of dice or poker would keep our minds off it, even if we played for no stakes."

    "I have some cards," Toby piped up.

    "Why didn''t you say so!?" Bert cried. "Bring those beauties here."

    Toby obliged and soon most of the team had set up in a circle and cards were being dealt. Only two of them abstained. Lauren claimed she didn''t know the rules and would watch and learn for now, while George said he didn''t hold with gambling, that it was a path to ruin. Bert suggested it was because he always lost, which the man didn''t gainsay.

    They decided to distribute the pearls Larry''s crew had gathered and use them in place of coin or chips. Swiftly, through skilful play and dastardly deceptions, Fritz began to gather a sizeable pile of the gleaming pearls. He bragged and boasted even as they accused him of cheating with his Senses, which he denied, though he was sure his Awareness was lending him an undeniable edge.

    Even through the spite''s shrouding, he could see sparks and streams of near-invisible emotions hover around the others. Excitement glowed, disappointment dripped and giddy anxiety bubbled as they played their hands and bluffed boisterously or benignly.

    Soon Lauren joined in the game, and Fritz was forced to split his share with her, mostly to allay the annoyance he''d attracted from all his wins. He gained the pearls back quickly though, as his only true opponent was Toby. The sneaky bastard could always tell when Fritz was bluffing or had a good hand. He must have been cheating with his Sanguine Sight, spying on Fritz''s very heart and its treacherous, rapid beat.

    Fritz began to think of the game as practice for hiding his reactions, slight as they may be. If he was ever going to face another member of the Guides Guild he would have to sand away all those tells and still any tics. Poker was as good a way as any to hone those instincts and daring deceptions. Especially when he saw that it wasn''t just he and Toby abusing their Abilities for advantage. The whole team was cheating in one way or another.

    The most obvious was Rosie, she would close her eyes and rely on her Awareness to judge whether to play her hand. Jane and Bert were employing their sleight-of-hand skills, empowered by enhanced Attributes, secreting cards on their person. Cal did something similar, depositing aces and face cards into his Personal Pack when he thought no one was watching. Even Lauren was attempting to gain an advantage using her Heat Sense, though she didn''t seem to have much luck with it.

    Fritz let the cheating pass, only speaking up when it was too egregious, too obvious and could be caught by a Scout with any modicum of ability. If he was training, they would be too.

    The hours passed, they ate, relaxed and rested as they needed.

    Eventually, it was time to move on, they had recuperated as much as was reasonable and the restlessness had reached a peak that had them all on edge. The talking had taken on a dark tone and the various games of poker had nearly sprawled into full-blown fights. The already cramped quarters seemed to feel smaller and smaller, picking and poking at their resentments.

    When Cal and Toby had almost come to blows over some stupid argument about whether eels were fish or snakes, Fritz had called them to pack up and prepare to move out. When the team was distracted he fell into his Sanctum and quickly aligned his three Attributes. One to Perception, Focus and Awareness.

    In six minutes the team stood before the eel Door, prepared as much as they could be.

    "This is the last Floor," Fritz said. "We only have to endure the spite for this very last stretch. We want to be through here as swift as may be. That means taking as few fights as is feasible."

    "Yeah, we don''t want to be stalled by snakes," Toby seethed.

    "They''re not snakes- " Cal began before Fritz cut them off.

    "Silence!" He ordered. Toby glowered and Fritz continued, "This is serious, leave the petty squabble behind. Toby keep your mouth closed or we leave you two here. Got it!?"

    Toby nodded darkly.

    Only one more floor, Fritz told himself.

    He thought he heard a whisper and he spun on his team, glaring at their grim faces.

    "What was that?" He asked.

    "No one said anything," Lauren said.

    Fritz frowned. He''d been noticing these whispers and his team jumping at shadows, they seemed to be getting worse and he could only attribute them to the spite. Unless his team really were plotting against him. He shook his head, that was paranoia, and not his own, it felt different, somehow wrong.

    Fritz turned and faced the brown, almost muddy, sand ramp, then he led his team forward. His boots sank into the wet sand and squelched as he ascended. Toby followed close behind, though his steps barely made a sound.

    When Fritz surfaced into the floor proper he was somewhat surprised by what he saw. They stood on a small island of dark sand amidst a shallow, still, muddy sea. Surrounding them on all sides there were pale, wiry trees, with tall, splayed roots that almost resembled hands, digging their fingers into the silt and salty water below. Branches creaked in the warm wind, and their yellow leaves rustled with their subtle swaying.

    It was quiet, oppressively so, and even though he was finally free of the Well room''s suffocating smallness, he felt that this forest''s heavy air was only marginally better.

    The rest of the team appeared, staring around in mute disapproval.

    "Mangroves," Lauren whispered, though in the silence of the forest it sounded like a hammer striking an anvil.

    Fritz winced, but turned and asked, "What''s that?"

    "A kind of forest, as you can see," she said softly. "Grows by the sea. It''s said that there were mangroves on the west shore of Rain City before the sea rose, drowning them."

    "Really?" Fritz asked.

    "A hundred years ago," she replied with a shrug.

    "Do mangroves also grow mangoes," Bert asked quietly, licking his lips in anticipation.

    "No," Lauren said. "Or maybe. Who knows what the Spire has concocted for us."

    Fritz scented the air, and could definitely smell the sour pang of citrus, it came mostly from his left. He turned to face the smell, and through the skein of shadows cast by the overhanging branches, he could see bright scarlet and pink fruits in the distance, hanging off some far away trees.

    "Over there," Fritz pointed. "Fruit."

    "Forget the fruit, where''s the way out?" Jane hissed.

    "Right, of course," Fritz said, realising he''d been distracted by his explorer''s spirit.

    He pulsed his Awareness and felt... nothing. It was like he was in an impenetrable fog as far as his Senses were concerned.

    Fritz reached for the Door Dowsers tucked into his belt and pulled one free, then he activated it. He let the wand turn him in a sluggish circle until it pointed the way. His Awareness and Door Sense barely reacted, revealing nothing more than the direction of the Stairway. Fritz knew it to be the spite stifling and smothering him, but he didn''t despair, they had a way forward and he had two more dowsers.

    Once he had the facing, he checked his compass and found its metal needle spinning erratically. He sighed and put it away, it would be of no use on this Floor. And although it irked him to have to rely on the dowsers, he tried not to show that or his dawning doubt.

    "This way," Fritz declared, hearing some sighs of relief.

    "Good to know, I was worried that the spite would stop the dowsers from working," Lauren admitted.

    He was glad she felt that way, but he himself was more than merely worried about the dowser''s lethargic response.

    "Nothing can stop us," Fritz proclaimed. "Now let''s grab some of those tasty-looking fruits and set off towards the Stairway."

    He led them forward, striding into the muddy water, the shallow sea almost came up to his waist and he soon tripped on a buried root. He caught himself easily, Grace allowing his slip to look almost intentional. He smiled back to his team and put together his three-piece staff, which he used to prod the murky waters ahead of himself.

    He was surprised at the thing''s usefulness. When he had first taken the item he had thought it to be merely a prop, a falsehood to deceive his fellow Climbers so they would not suspect him and his Senses. He had intended to sell it on the outside, but now, experiencing its unexpected utility he knew he''d hang onto it.

    Fritz gripped the reassuringly solid metal and continued forward.

    Sloshing rather than striding they made their way through the mangroves, stopping before the tree bearing fruit. Bert climbed it and began throwing down the strange bumpy red things. The team caught them but didn''t dare eat one until Bert bit into one.

    "Hmm," Bert hummed thoughtfully.

    They waited to see if there were any ill effects and for the man''s judgement.

    "Not poison. But weird," he admitted, taking another pensive bite.

    Without further encouragement, the team tasted their own fruits. They had a thick, sweet rind, chewy like dried meat, and the flesh below was sour and stringy. The syrupy juice stung Fritz''s lips slightly and left the sensation of a light tingle coating his mouth.

    "Oh!" Rosie said. "I like this!" She chomped down on the fruit forcefully, then there was a crack and crunch. Rosie winced, and Fritz hoped what he had heard breaking wasn''t her teeth.

    It wasn''t. The woman spat out a two-inch stone into her hand, then kept spitting. "Ah yuck, that''s foul! Ah ouch, it hurts!" She cried and began to rinse her mouth with her waterflask. After some seconds, she stopped swishing and spitting.

    "All better," she croaked,

    "I guess you shouldn''t try and chew the seeds," Toby observed.

    Lauren wiped her lips with a handkerchief of sirensilk, and seemingly on a whim, pulled out her magic lens. She peered down at the fruit, and a flash of slight surprise lit her face.

    "Definitely don''t, the seeds have mana within," Lauren said. "More than those lobster eyes."

    "Are you saying they''re magic fruits?" Bert asked.

    "That is what I''m saying," Lauren said.

    "Lucky us!" Bert cried. "Lucky, lucky us, a food that rewards you for eating it, this must be paradise!"

    "Yes, yes. Very lucky," Lauren said, still studying the fruit.

    Fritz thought he saw some shadow dart through the water and he spun to face it. There in the kicked-up silt was... nothing... again. Just the spite playing tricks on him. Or so he thought until he heard Toby yell.

    "Watch out!"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 62

    Something sped through the muddy water, a darting, glittering beast. Fritz and his team instinctively drew their weapons as the eel slipped right through the middle of their circle. He only caught sight of it for a second but what he saw chilled his blood. The monster was long, at least nine feet, and was almost as thick around as his torso. It was covered in fine lattice of blue-silver scales, the metallic sheen cut with gills of bright blue.

    Fritz barely had time to dodge, his Danger Sense wracked his body in brilliant burning before he leapt out from the water and alighted on a section of pale roots. Bert, who had leapt onto the monster, wasn''t so lucky. There was a flash, then a crack like a branch snapping. He spasmed, lost control of his legs, and fell, splashing into the water, while steam rose from his skin.

    The eel, quick as the lightning it conjured, bit into the stunned man and attempted to pull him away. A red cloud bloomed in the murk as Bert thrashed and seized a root to stop himself from being taken by the great, glittering eel.

    Fritz was first to his aid, leaping from his vantage and lunging at the beast with Quicksilver. Some strange sense must have alerted it to his strike and it coiled its massive body to avoid the worst of the attack. The blade''s edge cut into the eel''s side, slicing into scales. Thankfully, the beast let go of Bert, instead spinning on its new assailant. Its entire body glowed with blue-white hues as its tail swept towards Fritz.

    Although he was forewarned of the danger, the slippery, silty nature of his footing prevented him from evading, and the tail struck him, or would have if not for the cold embrace of Umbral Phase. The bulk of the strike slipped through, but the lighting shroud tore at Fritz''s shadowy form, burning, searing across his chest. It was an awful agony, where the tail passed his very being violently vibrated.

    He screamed and it came out like a whisper. His vision faded, darkened, as he drifted backward.

    After a heartbeat, he solidified, the water sloshed and his feet failed to catch him. As he fell he heard another loud crack and another splash. His head fell into the murk. With a force of will he took control of his limbs, not with his unresponsive muscles, but instead seizing on his Grace to guide his arms and legs.

    It was an intensely odd feeling like he was a puppet dancing slowly on deliberately drawn strings, but he couldn''t focus on the sensation, not when he was drowning in barely three feet of water. Eyes stinging, his hand gripped a root and dragged him upwards. He moved like syrup, Grace wasn''t meant for speed, merely precision, and in this moment its weaknesses manifested.

    The water around him surged and his head breached the shallow tide. He coughed and spluttered, blood spraying from his mouth. Fritz couldn''t breathe, his lungs failed to fill with air. He realised he was hurt far worse than he thought, his head spun as a Grace steadied hand searched his pouch for potions.

    Another crack and a scream, Jane''s scream.

    Fritz unstoppered a vial and poured its red contents down his throat. Immediately the healing set in, easing the terrible aching and countering the cramping of his chest. He staggered, slouching on an outcrop of roots and breathing in a deep, glorious breath. The sound rattled raggedly in his ears, but life and strength flowed back into his limbs.

    Around him it was chaos, Toby was floating face up in the water and Jane sloshed to his side, potion in hand. Bert struggled to his feet, his eyes were bloodshot and his shoulders were twitching. The eel itself had a spear stuck through its middle, and Rosie tried to assault the beast with her pick and hatchet. The eel ignored her until the pick, wreathed in scarlet light, impacted its coiling body and pierced its scales. The beast slithered in a circle, and she was shoved away and under the water by a powerful tail slap.

    Fritz had to act, and he looked for his blade. Somehow Quicksilver was still in his gloved hand, he gripped it so tightly his fingers ached. He dashed forward, wrapped his sword in Gloom Strike''s shadows and lunged. This time the eel didn''t dodge and the point of his black blade stabbed deep into its gills, just behind its overly fanged head.

    It turned a hateful eye on him, hissing a stream of blood from its maw. Again that shroud of lightning surged over its body and Fritz was too slow, too surprised, to not let go of his sword. Danger Sense hadn''t even warned him. Instead of the crack and flash he expected a sizzling and a crackling reached his ears. Quicksilver''s long blade lit up with arcs of blue-white energy that swiftly dissipated or was drawn into the sword''s centre.

    Fritz didn''t take the time to ponder what had happened, he pulled his blade free then stabbed and slashed at the reeling eel, slicing jagged furrows into its flesh. It flailed and floundered, blood pouring from its plentiful wounds. Bert looked like he wanted to charge the dying eel, but his twitching body was fighting him the entire time.

    "Retreat! Let it bleed out!" Fritz commanded, backing away from the increasingly sluggish monster.

    "Get on the roots if you can!" He cried, following his own order and clambering up and onto a bed of roots.

    Jane tugged Toby''s body away, aided by Lauren, while George and Cal retreated from the spitting, sparking beast, climbing out of the water. Bert begrudgingly obeyed, walking away on stiff legs.

    From their root refuges they watched the monster thrash and bleed, as Jane tended to Toby, forcing a potion into his mouth.

    Fritz finally let himself go limp as eventually the eel died, hissing out a final, high whine, then going sill and floating belly up.

    Toby gasped, groaned and grimaced as a healing potion took effect.

    "Jane, can you see to Bert," Fritz groaned.

    "It''s not that bad," Bert croaked, trying to grin, then coughing terribly. "Nevermind. Can I get some healing?"

    Once Jane saw Toby was better and he nudged her with his elbow, she complied, sloshing over and stitching Bert''s bite wound.

    "Can''t do much for the lightning wound, it''s more a burn than a cut," she stated hesitantly.

    "I can help with that," Lauren said swiftly. Joining Jane and applying her Soothe Burn Ability to Bert''s chest.

    "Ahhh, that''s good," Bert moaned. "You''re a goddess."

    "Oh? Which one of us?" Jane asked playfully.

    "Both," he replied, eliciting two sets of rolled eyes.

    Once Bert''s recovery had been seen to, the healers turned their attention to Fritz. He still ached so he let them see to him. He had to remove his leather armour vest and his shirt, so they could assess the damage. He was surprised to see a whole section of his chest was discoloured, and bruised a brown-red, almost like rust.

    "Ouch," he muttered to himself. His skin wasn''t painful, but it was raw and the flesh beneath ached like he''d been beaten with a hammer.

    "Just when did you get muscles?" Jane asked incredulously, poking him just below his stomach. "Why do you look like a prizefighter?"

    "What?" Fritz asked. "I don''t know what you mean. I''m still lean."

    "You''re lean, compared to someone like Bert or George, but this," she said prodding him again, "is dense muscle."

    "Do you have the Dense Muscle Trait too?" Cal asked.

    "What? No, this is simply the result of monster meat and hard work," Fritz professed.

    "Hard work?" Bert scoffed.

    "And some points to Strength I''d wager," Toby said.

    "Perhaps," Fritz allowed.

    "This bruise doesn''t look like something my sew wound is good for," Jane stated. "Lauren, you should see to him while I re-check Toby."

    "Very well," Lauren agreed taking a step towards Fritz, "No moaning like Bert, if you would."

    Fritz agreed and let the woman apply her Soothe Burns to his chest. Immediately he could feel the effects, his skin stopped prickling and breathing hurt far less.

    He sighed softly and thanked her, she waved him off and went to tend to Toby who was similarly burnt by the lightning, even if the damage seemed to be more on the outside than inside as Fritz''s had been.

    While the team recovered, Fritz recalled the fight and considered the small mysteries and how they should change their tactics to deal with this foe.

    The most obvious peril came from that lightning Ability, it had scorched and stunned both Bert and Toby while being able to injure, maybe kill, Fritz even through his phase. The arcing shroud was both an offence and a defence, you couldn''t touch the creature without risking harm so they would need some way to dispel or discharge it. As without that power, the beast was just an eel. A quick, large and deadly eel, but an eel nonetheless.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Fritz looked down to where he still held Quicksilver. He remembered the sizzling and the bright arcs dancing up his blade, he wondered if it could be the same as when his sword had eaten the eldritch flame. The faint crack down the length of the blade glowed softly, blue-white tinged with that same blue-green hue of before. He brought the sword to his ear and heard a humming. He tapped the flat with a finger. The sword stung him with a tiny bolt, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

    Fritz frowned, touching the hilt with his free hand and was shocked again. He pulled his stinging fingers into his mouth reflexively and looked at the hand still gripping the sword''s hilt. He wondered why the lightning wasn''t biting him there. The question only lasted for a moment, because the reason for that hand''s inurement was plain to see. The soft black glove, though it still steamed slightly, was completely unharmed. He could still feel the energy through the thin material, but it didn''t spark at or try to strike him.

    "How are you holding up, Fritz?" Bert asked. The still-shaky man had wandered up to him while he was distracted.

    "Fine as can be. That lightning shroud felt like it tore me apart."

    "Even through that ghost Ability?" Bert asked surprised.

    "Even through my Umbral Phase," Fritz affirmed.

    "That''s no good. You''ll have to be more careful," Bert grinned. "We don''t all have the toughness to survive those shocks."

    Normally Fritz would have waved his brother off with some affected assurance, but instead, he just agreed with him.

    "You''re right. I''m not sure on my Ability''s limits, but on this Floor, it seems I''ve met one of its weaknesses," Fritz stated.

    Bert''s grin dropped and he spoke soberly, "I''m starting to think the same of my own powers here. That bolt stopped me from moving, even if I wasn''t as badly hurt by it as you were."

    "Yes, we might be in some trouble," George observed, joining the conversation.

    Fritz was about to berate the man for sneaking up on them but he hadn''t. George had just been sitting there, thoughtfully, the whole time.

    "I held back after seeing the lightning," he admitted morosely. "Covered in metal as I am I thought I''d do more harm than good if I struck. I feel a coward."

    "You''re not, George," Fritz said and Bert agreed with a nod adding, "It was the right call, it would have cooked you in your half-plate."

    George nodded, then sighed heavily.

    "Another Floor where I have to take off this armour of mine," he complained halfheartedly.

    "A shame," Bert said.

    "Better than the alternative," Fritz said as George began to pull off the pieces of his armour, save his Treasure bracer which would likely hold up to the lighning.

    "True as the rain," he agreed. "What''s going on with your sword?"

    "Hmm?" Fritz hummed, holding his blade up for all to see. "It seems my blade has eaten some lightning."

    "It can do that," Cal asked, having wandered over to them.

    "It can," George said. "My father mentioned it had something to do with the natural matrices and metals within the sword."

    "What?" Cal asked, his face blank.

    "Sometimes monster parts have wild glyphs within, they''re like enchantments or runes that grow with the beasts, granting them their Abilities and other potential powers. It''s called a natural matrix and it can be a boon or a bane when it comes to enchanting, as it might strengthen or interfere with the property you''re trying to inscribe into the item."

    "I see," Fritz said, though he was still sorting out the information and its implications.

    "That sword, for instance, has a strange combination of matrix and material that allows it to store and channel certain energies, or so it seems," George said.

    For a man of few words, once he got talking about swords or their making he would chatter their ear off.

    "Why didn''t your father tell me this?" Fritz asked a little annoyed at the withheld information.

    "He didn''t know for sure what it did, he''s not a runesmith proper," George said. "He said it was just a hunch and he couldn''t go telling you something that might have gotten you killed if he was wrong. Say if you tried to stab a lightning eel and were struck and shocked instead of it being safely stored."

    "I see," Fritz said. "Though it would have been easy enough to mention."

    George shrugged and espoused, "If you''re not sure: don''t speak."

    Fritz considered the saying and discarded it. If he followed that ethos he''d never be able to say another word.

    "Well, that''s good to know, but why is it... leaking?" Fritz asked as he tapped the blade and was shocked again.

    "Those wild runes must not be fully compatible with lightning," Lauren provided.

    George nodded at that and added, "You should sheath it right away, maybe that will stop the rest from escaping."

    Fritz did so, sliding the blade into the sheath with the pleasing ring of metal on metal.

    He could still feel the hum of the power trapped within, but would have to check later to see if the lighting remained as potent.

    "What will be our strategy going forward?" Lauren asked.

    "We''ll have to avoid the eels, and if we must fight we will do so from range," Fritz said. "Stay on top of the roots if we can."

    "What about the aberrant? Are we going to fight it?" Bert asked.

    "If we come across it we''ll decide then, but I''d rather we survive this floor rather than risk everything to fight such a beast. If the base lightning eel is this deadly I can only think that the aberrant will be far worse. A massacre in the making."

    "Its seed would be worth a fortune," Lauren said absently, almost dreamily.

    "Oh?" Bert inquired.

    "Oh, yes. Lightning aligned seeds are rare, not to mention it''s from an aquatic beast making it more compatible with Merfolk."

    "More compatible?" Cal asked as he pulled his spear free from the floating eel carcass.

    "The Ability offered could fill a Strain channel rather than the far more versatile Passive, Active and Trait channels," she explained.

    "What do you mean?" Bert asked.

    "Like Paths, Strains follow a set, or rather theme, of power selections," Lauren said. "You''re far more likely to gain Abilities that conform to their natures. Water powers and passives are common for Merfolk. As are Primal Abilities of the sea beast variety. Body powers are also very common with all Strains. Which goes without saying as a Strain changes your physiology."

    "Huh," Bert said. "Sounds powerful."

    "They are. Though their Abilities still require Climbing, as everything does. You''re not born a Merfolk after all, even if some may have been granted the latent trait from their noble parents."

    "Fritz, you''re a noble, right? Were your parents Merfolk?" Cal asked, quite rudely.

    "No, they were both human," Fritz said. "As I said, we were a small, out of favour, house. And having no Merfolk in our line for a few generations likely led to our decline."

    "Huh, why is that?" Cal asked.

    "There are many reasons, which I won''t go into as I barely grasp them myself. But suffice it to say, there were noble politics at play," Fritz said. "As there always are," he added, sighing.

    "I don''t care about that stuff," Bert said. "It''s boring and stupid."

    "And completely irrelevant to our predicament," Fritz said. "Back to tactics. Any novel ideas?"

    "Do you think this thing''s scales will protect against the lightning?" Cal asked, kicking the eel. "We could use it as armour."

    "How nostalgic," Fritz said.

    "It''s barely been two weeks," Toby groused. "How can that be nostalgic?"

    "Feels like an age ago," Fritz opined.

    "It does, a little bit," Jane agreed, placing a hand on her stomach. "A lot has happened this past span of days."

    "Yes, yes. We''ve been very busy," Bert said. "Let''s get these scales off."

    "Any magical materials on the eel?" Fritz asked, turning to Lauren.

    She looked the creature over with her lens.

    "The scales are magic and there''s a larger, more potent, mass of mana within, near the middle," Lauren stated.

    "Even more reason to get these scales off," Bert said. "Toby, get to cutting!"

    Toby approached the eel tentatively as if he were afraid it would light with white-blue arcs and scorch him again. When his fears went unrealised, he, Jane and Cal got to work processing the carcass while the others collected more red fruits or kept on the lookout for more eels.

    Surprisingly, no beasts came in search of them. The muddy waters flowed slowly, yellow leaves floated on the surface and nothing monstrous stirred. It put Fritz on edge and he waited for the other shoe to drop. Again, it never came, and he nearly jumped when his name was called.

    "Fritz, hurry up and test the lighting on the eel''s scales," Bert said, holding up a tall length of the blue-sliver skin by its scaleless edges.

    "Very well," Fritz said. "Move aside vagrants and vagabonds, lest you also taste the lightning."

    Fritz drew Quicksilver and placed its still-humming point on the patch of scales. It sparked, and a tendril of white-blue bounded into the silver-blue, causing the scales to glow subtly. He pulled his sword away before it could be completely drained.

    Bert seemed fine, and he peered at the eel skin.

    "Ooo," he said, then he touched the scales and cried, "Ouch!" as he was shocked.

    "Seems the scales store the lighting as my sword does. While the skin itself protects from the lightning," Fritz theorised.

    "So don''t touch the scales?" Cal asked.

    "Yes. Though we could also separate the two. Keep the scales in the bags and use the skin for some vests of lighting protection. That would reduce their effectiveness against bites and blades, but would stop us from accidentally shocking ourselves with a careless touch," Fritz said. "Would that work George?"

    "Yes, a full suit of the scales would need to be perfect to make sure you never hurt yourself with it. Preferably with multiple layers of skin interposed with leather just in case the armour is ever damaged," he said, talking himself through the process.

    "We''ll go with just the skin," Fritz decided. "Can''t make it perfect in a mangrove, and we can''t risk hurting ourselves, even if we have two wonderful Healers."

    "I''m not really a Healer," Lauren protested halfheartedly.

    "Though you are wonderful," Fritz said, smiling.

    She returned the smile tiredly.

    And with that, the team got to work. Soon they had enough coverings for two people and gloves for George and Bert. Rosie and Lauren were chosen to be the lucky two who were to have the fishy-smelling, soggy skins draped over them. Lauren because her healing was more useful for this Floor, and Rosie because she was to intercept any eel that got past the front line.

    The last use for the skin they found was to handle the odd organ, or rather, stone, they had discovered within the eel''s body. It almost looked like a Seed, as it was vaguely spherical, black as coal and run through with twisted lines of copper. It hummed with power and it tried to shock any who touched it, so potent was the lighting mana stored within.

    "These will fetch a pretty price," Lauren said happily.

    "Wonderful news," Toby groused, flexing his recently healed hand.

    "It is," Lauren agreed. "This climb will be more than merely profitable, all that we''ve found so far will make us well off indeed. Though that''s mostly because of the sirensilk."

    "Lucky us," Fritz said, meaning it. "Though let''s not dally, we have to survive to enjoy this well-earned wealth."

    They packed away the lighting stone, the gathered fruits and the glittering scales and readied themselves for the trek ahead.

    "Will this be another long walk?" Bert asked absently.

    "No, it shouldn''t be more than a couple of hours before we find the Door," Fritz supplied, more hopeful than sure. "As long as we don''t have to detour or we don''t walk into anything too dangerous."

    He pulled out his trusty pole and transferred it to his gloved hand, then when he was satisfied that they were ready to go he set off in the direction of the Stairway.

    Hopping from root bank to root bank, they traversed the mangroves, only daring to brave the water when there was no other choice. As they progressed, Fritz spied an eel lurking in its lair. He guided his team around its territory, deciding that caution was the watchword for this Floor.

    He soon spotted another eel, not six minutes away from the last, hiding in its cave of roots as the other had. It seemed the beasts had a preference for their lairs and they stuck to it. Again, Fritz led them around their foes without alerting them. It was lucky that these beasts had such poor senses, they likely relied on ambushing their prey as they moved past.

    Idly, he wondered what the eels ate, if they ate anything, but he soon spied what must have been their favoured food. There out in the distance he spotted big, leech-like creatures, and there were three of them.

    Rubbery and black, the things slowly crept up the fruiting mangrove trees and ate their fill of the red limes. They had an almost amorphous quality to them, being both eyeless and boneless. Sticky tendrils leapt from their bulging, sack-like bodies, catching, then yanking the fruit into their fangless maws.

    "They''re stealing our fruit!" Bert cried. "We must stop them!"

    Fritz turned to see his team postured in full agreement with the call to action, they almost looked annoyed at the dumb beasts, gulping down the flavoursome fruit so mindlessly. Though he found that he misliked them too.

    "Fine, let us fight these foul fruit thieves."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 63

    It was almost offensive how defenceless and clumsy the ugly beasts were. They couldn''t leap or dodge, they were slow and graceless. When cut, their slick skin parted as easily as a hessian sack, spilling out thin, stinking and sour orange blood. The leech things burbled and thrashed disgustingly while they died.

    Fritz almost felt foolish for approaching the beasts so cautiously, they had posed no danger at all. Even when Bert let one entangle him with its tendril-like growths he could easily snap their repulsive appendages. He grimaced while he ripped one apart with his bare hands as if it were made of toffee.

    "They don''t even have any Abilities," Bert said, his voice soaked in as much disappointment as his clothes were in the monster''s blood. "So weak. Awful. Boring."

    "Hey, the fruits in their uh...bellies... haven''t been uh.. chewed," Cal noticed.

    "If they''re still in good condition, collect them," Fritz said.

    "That''s foul! I''m not eating something that''s been inside one of these... things," Lauren protested.

    "Gods, neither am I," George said.

    "We''re not eating them, we''re selling them," Fritz said. "Put them in separate sacks, and make sure you mark them with ink or something so we don''t confuse them with the untainted ones."

    "Oh, yes, of course," Lauren said.

    "They''re stuffed full of them," Rosie said, cutting one of the creatures open with her pick''s point. Its blood poured into the water below. "Yuck."

    "Don''t spill the blood like that, we don''t want to attract the eels," Toby groused.

    "Too late, too arms team!" Fritz commanded, drawing Quicksilver and watching two waves weaving towards the team.

    "Damn it!" Toby cursed, his voice joined by Jane''s.

    "Whoops," Rosie said. "Sorry."

    "Throw the tree leeches in the water, hopefully, the eels attack them, not us," Fritz ordered.

    His command was followed, and soon the dark silt was mingled with slicks of orange. For once Fritz''s plan worked, the eels seemed to love feasting upon the awful, bobbing, black bodies. They tore into the leeches with abandon, completely ignoring the team standing on the root banks around them.

    "Like sitting ducks," Toby said, grimly grinning and pulling throwing daggers from his belt.

    Cal hefted his spear and Lauren watched the carnage, while Fritz and the others waited for the first barrage.

    Red-wreathed daggers leapt from Toby''s darting hands, striking and stabbing into the two eels.

    The creatures shrouded themselves in lightning. Fritz threw his pole at one of the beasts, thumping it in the head. Bright blue-white arcs jumped into the metal, causing it to glow a dull red as it fell into the shallow sea and began to boil the water around it. Next Cal threw George''s unused bracer, it caught the lightning like they had thought it would, and it also sank, red hot, into the shallow depths.

    That was George''s cue to attack, with the lightning shrouds dissipated, Sever shrieked, as did Rosie. The raw sound of her scream almost stunned Fritz even though it wasn''t directed at him. The Piercing Shriek did stun the eels, allowing George to leap down, steady himself in the silt and swing his greatsword in an overhead chop.

    Both huge eels were cleaved in two, their halves splashed and flailed ineffectually before they eventually went still.

    "Damn, George!" Bert shouted. "What a strike!"

    George bowed awkwardly at the sudden praise, muttering something about it being luck.

    Fritz couldn''t help but be impressed himself, the man had truly grown into a potent striker.

    "Quickly now, skin the eels, and take their stones before more seek us out," Fritz said, sheathing his blade and going to search among the murk for his pole. He quickly found it, and luckily it had cooled enough that the metal was merely warm to the touch. He also retrieved the bracer and lobbed it to Cal for use again should they encounter more eels.

    "That was surprisingly easy compared to the last battle," Cal observed.

    "The benefits of being prepared, and knowing what our foes can do. It''s why Scout Captains like me are so prized," Fritz said a little smugly.

    "I thought teams wanted Enhancer, Defender or Sage Captains," George asked.

    "They do," Lauren said. "Scouts are rarely made captains, as losing one of the two Roles is bad, and losing both is a disaster. That, and scouting is a dangerous task, a solitary one, fraught with peril, not suitable for a regular captain."

    "Duly denying that deadly peril is merely what makes me exceptional rather than regular," Fritz proclaimed.

    "Oh. Have you stopped getting caught now?" Toby asked drily.

    "Yes," Fritz lied.

    "Mostly," Bert answered more truthfully, earning him an exaggerated scowl.

    "Never mind that, get a sack for this eel meat," Toby said, proffering a strip of the grey flesh.

    The stuff didn''t exactly look appetising, to Fritz''s eye it looked none too fresh, on the edge of too rotten to eat. But having starved before he would never turn up his nose at free food, even if it looked a little suspicious.

    "I wonder what the eel will taste like," Bert mused.

    "Like biting into a stormcloud, I''d wager," Fritz said. "Though that''s neither here nor there, we should get moving."

    The eels were skinned and sectioned in minutes, their parts stored in sacks and packs respectively. Fritz led them forward, he didn''t bother using another dowser as he hadn''t felt the sudden vertigo that came with the spite''s alterations. He suspected that this Floor had different challenges entirely, and he could only hope that they were prepared, powerful, enough to meet them.

    They had done well so far, excepting their first encounter with the eel in which they had to use two healing potions. Though that was to be expected when dealing with an enemy of unknown strength. He only wished he''d noticed it earlier, but knew that its quiet approach was aided by the oppressive spite.

    They resumed their trek, walking on the roots where they could, avoiding the water and the eels that might be lurking within. It was slow going, not all of the team had Fritz''s Grace, Agility or innate sense of balance honed by many nights sneaking on rainy roofs. George and Lauren especially had trouble, lagging behind while trying not to slip.

    Fritz set Rosie to stay by Lauren''s side, it was her job to protect the mage, while he had Bert be Jane''s protector. Toby bristled at the presumption that he wasn''t enough to take care of her. But he was soon set right when Fritz reminded him that Bert could survive a blast from the monster''s lightning, while Toby would be knocked out and needed to be revived by a potion if he was struck. He grumbled, but let it be.

    An hour of walking, leaping and sloshing, they made their way closer to the Stairway. They had taken to ignoring the sightings of fruit and the tree leeches. Wherever they were eel nests were close by too, and the beasts they saw were getting larger. Fritz wanted no more quarrel with the eels, sure the team could handle them, but one mistake and it could all go as sour as those red lime''s syrup, which could leave them seriously injured and waste their precious potions. They only had two healing potions left, carried by Jane and Rosie respectively, and they had to save them for a mortal wound.

    It was quiet, the breeze had fled and only the scraping and splashing sounds of their passage broke the silence.

    Darting shadows appeared more frequently. At first, Fritz had thought perhaps it was flitting birds, flying from tree to tree, but he eventually recognised them as what they were, a trick of the spite. He wasn''t the only one affected, the distracting apparitions had caused many a slip, fall or sudden stumble. It was making the trek tedious and tortuous, even if Fritz had explained his theory that the shadows and whispers were imposed by the spite.

    "Hate this spite," Rosie grumbled. "Better be worth it."

    "Worth it?" Lauren asked.

    "Don''t we get more Treasure ''cause it''s more dangerous?" Rosie asked.

    "What? Gods no," Fritz stated. "The spite is a punishment, it won''t reward us for breaking the rules."

    "Oh. I hate that even more," Rosie said, turning an annoyed glance over Jane and Toby.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Jane scowled and Toby grimaced, "Sorry, our lives aren''t ''worth it''," he muttered angrily.

    "They''re worth it to me," Fritz stated, attempting to head off any argument, while also trying to believe his words.

    Fritz had his back to the two but he could feel their stares. Plotting stares. He looked over his shoulder to catch them in the act, only to see them both wearing faces of guilt and genuine gratitude. His suspicion fled, the two were tired, terrified and teetering on the edge of despair, but they weren''t scheming some subtle treachery, nor did they look like they were going to flee.

    The sight filled Fritz with complicated, warring, emotion. A loud whisper crept from the canopy ahead, instinctively he scanned the leaves and branches above.

    Nothing.

    Fritz let out a long sigh, relaxing his tense shoulders. The constant disturbances were wearing him down, which, he supposed, was the intention. To keep him on alert, but also ready to dismiss what he had seen or heard as a figment of the spite. It was insidious and deeply tiring.

    He almost shook his head, but suppressed it, it wouldn''t do to have his crew see him attempting to clear his mind. It would only increase the collective paranoia they were all suffering from. Instead, he moved on, stepping from one root to the next.

    After another fifteen minutes of traversing the mangroves, the trees ended, revealing the open sea. It was still, save for the soft rippling on its surface. In the distance there were more mangroves, like islands of pale roots. The sky above was clear purple and a dull orange globe lit the world, its light dancing on the water''s near non-existent waves.

    There were three distinct mangroves ahead of him, one of them he knew was the Stairway, and it was obvious which one. It had a great tree, far taller than all the rest, its branches reaching high, grasping at the sky as if it were attempting to seize the dim sun. It was surrounded by a ring of trees and twisting roots.

    Just in case the huge tree was a misdirection, Fritz used his second-to-last Door dowser. It responded slowly, but it did confirm his guess that the Stairway was hidden by the enormous tree. Or perhaps it was the tree, it wouldn''t surprise Fritz in the slightest to find that was the case.

    The thing that really concerned him was the large likelihood that the aberrant beast was skulking around the stairway, as the others he had encountered had. That''s if there was one on this Floor and it wasn''t merely a coincidence that they''d found lightning eels. He hoped that maybe it was, though he knew it to be a vain hope.

    "Big tree?" Bert inquired.

    "Big tree," Fritz confirmed as the dowser snapped in two.

    "Anything in the water?" Jane asked.

    "Yes," Toby said. "More eels, lots of them and big ones. I can see their veins."

    "What do we do?" Cal asked.

    "Should I use my ring to call them?" Rosie asked as she reached the treeline.

    "I need to think," Fritz said. "I''m not sure bating or riling them up is the best course of action. I''d prefer to sneak past them if we can."

    "It would only take half an hour to walk to the outlying mangroves," Lauren observed thoughtfully. "My boots last for an hour, I haven''t used them yet. But if I walked slowly perhaps we could make a frozen bridge."

    "Interesting proposal," Fritz allowed.

    "I don''t know how stealthy that would be," George said. "We don''t know how they will react to ice."

    "We can test it," Lauren proposed. "They''re full of mana."

    "It''ll be dangerous," Fritz said.

    "Bert can protect me, can''t you?" Lauren asked mildly.

    "Of course I can," Bert proclaimed proudly, pounding his fist on his chest.

    "Well, there''s no time like the present," Lauren said, handing her pack for Cal to carry. "Let''s go."

    Lauren''s white hide boots glowed a subtle white and the air around her cooled.

    "Oh, that''s quite nice," she remarked with some surprise. "Wish I had these on that hot floor."

    She tentatively stepped onto the water, as her boots met the sea''s surface it immediately began to freeze creating a floating, icy foothold. She tested her weight and found it held her easily, so she set her next foot down upon the water. The sea froze below her feet and she stood there as the ring of ice grew around her. The icy encroachment stopped at around a foot and a half around her in all directions.

    "Well, that''s much larger than I''d thought it would be," Lauren stated, smiling.

    "Not the first time I''ve heard that," Bert said, which garnered some laughs, but went mostly ignored.

    "Look''s like it would be well suited for a bridge," Fritz continued.

    "Again...not the first time I''ve been told that," Bert said widening his grin.

    Lauren gave the man a withering glance, while Cal and George stifled laughs and Jane hid a smile behind her hand. Toby and Fritz hid their own mirth while Rosie just looked confused.

    Lauren tried to keep her composure, but eventually, she smiled, chuckling herself. Like a dam breaking, laughter burst forth from the entire team. The fit only lasted a minute or two and soon they were quiet again, not that tense quiet of before, but a lighter, more free-feeling air entirely.

    "The next thing to test is to see how the eels react to the ice," Fritz said, breaking the smiling silence. "Does your seaskin ring still have enough mana?"

    "Yes," she confirmed.

    "Bert, go with her," he ordered.

    "Yes, Captain," Bert replied, giving a fist over heart salute.

    With that Lauren began to walk over the water, freezing where she stepped and leaving a trail of floating ice. It took a moment for Lauren to get used to the sensation, but soon she was striding confidently across the sea. Bert attempted to scramble onto the bridge, but it broke apart as soon as he put some weight on it. The already melting chunks scattered around him, undeterred he decided to keep following the woman, sinking into the sea up to his chest as the open waters seemed to be deeper than the mangroves.

    Lauren kept striding onwards, the ice behind her breaking away and melting as she moved on ahead. She didn''t get too far, only after a minute of walking did Fritz see the ominous glow of lightning. Luckily, Lauren noticed it too, and before the flash and crack of the oncoming bolt, she activated her Seaskin Ring.

    Belatedly, he worried that the water-based protection might not be effective against the eel''s Ability. And maybe it wasn''t, he wouldn''t know, because something strange happened. The slippery second skin of water slipped across Lauren''s body, but quickly froze over, locking the woman in place. An eel lunged from out of the sea and the lightning came with it. The coating of ice was blasted apart like it was struck with a mighty hammer, spraying shards in all directions and conjuring a cloud of steam.

    Fritz worried for the woman, but needn''t have, a torrent of flame spilled out from the cloud and over the still-exposed head of the beast. It shrieked and ducked back into the water, and the clinging flame was extinguished in a moment. Lauren might have been in trouble had Bert not been there, his rippling fist struck the beast in its skull, stunning it. While it floated flaccidly, he grabbed its jaws with both hands and pulled them apart, ignoring the long fangs that sunk into his hands.

    With a yell and an incredible display of strength, he tore the creature''s lower jaw off, then held the eel up and out of the sea for another scorching. Lauren complied quickly, and soon the beast was covered in flame, struggling in the air as Bert held it aloft.

    After twelve brutal, burning, seconds it eventually died and Bert and Lauren made their way back to the team, with some swiftness to their strides. When they arrived Bert threw the charred eel in front of Toby. He then strode up to Jane and presented his punctured hands, which she healed without a word.

    "The ice bridge didn''t work and the eels don''t like the cold," Lauren summarised.

    "Unfortunate, but not unexpected," Fritz said. "That interaction with your ring was though."

    "Yes, I can''t believe I didn''t think of it beforehand," Lauren said. "If I wasn''t broken out by the lightning I would have been stuck for as long as the shield persisted."

    "Maybe you should hand the boots or the ring to someone else, that interaction could be a danger," Fritz observed, again making a feeble play for the ring.

    Lauren tilted her head this way and that while thinking. "It''s a trade-off, a more solid defence for being unable to move," she posited, then she smiled. "I''ll keep them both for now."

    "Fair enough," Fritz sighed. "Back to the plan. Any ideas?"

    "We could build a raft if we really wanted to stay out of the water," Cal suggested. "There are trees all around us."

    "After seeing the eel blast the ice I''m not sure I''d want to risk our lives on a wooden raft," Fritz said, thoughtfully.

    "We will just have to cross as we are," George stated.

    "I''m afraid you''re right," Fritz agreed.

    "We could throw some of those tree leeches to distract the eels," Toby said. "Sneak past them while they eat."

    "Good idea," Fritz said, as he had been thinking along the same lines as well.

    "Won''t that just attract the eels," Rosie asked. "Same as my ring."

    "Yes, but Cal can handle hiding them away until needed. Can''t you?" Fritz said, smiling at him.

    "I can," Cal said.

    "Well, that''s the plan then," Fritz declared. "Let''s go get some leeches."

    ---

    It took them an hour of searching and scrounging but they were able to discover more of the rubbery black things, kill them and store them in Cal''s Personal Pack.

    "Hope this doesn''t get their blood over everything in there. Inside of you," Bert teased.

    "It''s not inside of me. It''s next to me, but also exactly where I am. It''s hard to explain," Cal said.

    "Weird. But what about the blood? Is everything going to be stained orange?" Bert asked.

    "It won''t be. Everything is sealed off like it''s in its own bubble," Cal explained. "Or that''s how it looks in my mind."

    "Could you store liquids the same way?" Fritz asked.

    "I don''t know. Maybe?" Cal hedged.

    "Try it!" Bert demanded.

    Cal did, sticking his hand in the water. A small slurping, sucking sound gurgled from the sea and he grimaced.

    "It does, but it''s draining, each pint seems to cost as much as any other thing," Cal said.

    "How do you know it''s a pint?" Rosie asked.

    Cal shrugged, "Just feels that way."

    "Can you spray out the water like a gutter?" Bert asked eagerly.

    Cal held out his hand and a globe of murky water appeared, lost its integrity in a moment and fell into the sea, splashing like an overlarge raindrop.

    "No," he said disappointment heavy in his tone.

    "Boo," Bert said. "Thought you might be able to knock someone down with it or something."

    "Guess you''ll just have to stick to throwing spears and sending stones our foes'' way," Fritz said, cheering the man considerably when he was reminded of the other benefits of his incredibly useful power.

    Soon they were back to the tree line, ready to make their wading way across the chest-high sea. Only the shortest of them, Jane and Rosie, had to swim, while the others walked over the silt seabed or above it, like Lauren did with Icewalker.

    Around them, there would be the occasional flash of white-blue, as the eels seemingly warned each other away with their lightning. After three minutes Toby warned them of an approaching eel and Cal threw the first of their four leeches to intercept it. It soared far further and straighter than it had any right to, a consequence of Momentum and Guided Toss. The black carcass caused first a splash then a swarm as eels sparked and swam towards it.

    They passed straight by the team, though they had to dodge those bright, barrelling bodies before they could accidentally slam into them. Flashes sparked in the water, and snaps filled the air. It smelt like a storm as the eels coiled and congregated. The team picked up the pace, leaving the beasts to tear into their little treat and each other as they fought over the leech meat.

    It was only another three minutes of fast wading before Fritz and his team had to employ the tactic again. It was just as successful as the last time and soon they were halfway to the ring of trees. It wasn''t until the third time they had to repeat the leech bait distraction that things went wrong.

    George was clipped by the shroud of a passing eel, the lightning leapt at least a foot from its scales and struck him. Steam streamed off the man, and he stopped in his steps. Lauren ran to his side, kneeled on her platform of ice and lay her hands on his twitching chest. Pale green light suffused him but he still wasn''t able to move or breathe.

    "Rosie, your potion, give it to George!" Fritz ordered.

    She nodded and sped to his side with Interpose, then she pulled out a vial and poured the red liquid into his mouth.

    George gasped and another eel slipped close. Bert moved between it and the team and was rewarded with a bolt. He caught it on his bracers, which seemed to lessen the severity of the shock, but the blast still rocked him backwards and he fell below the water.

    "Cal stay, everyone else go!" Fritz commanded, drawing Quicksilver and stowing his pole.

    "But-" Jane protested.

    "Go!" Fritz said. "Get to the trees, we''re so close."

    She and Toby nodded and followed after Lauren and Rosie who didn''t need to be told twice.

    "Cal, can you carry George?" Fritz asked.

    "I''m a Hauler, of course I can," he replied.

    "I don''t... need... to..." George began to wheeze out, but Cal simply got under one of the man''s arms and began to haul him forward in an unsteady run.

    Fritz didn''t spend any time watching their escape, he ran to Bert who had suddenly burst up from the water.

    "Need help?" Fritz asked, though he ignored his brother''s protests and began to haul him as Cal did with George.

    Fritz had to start and stop as he made room for the beasts swimming past, relying on his Danger Sense to warn him of incoming eels. For some minutes he had to thread between the sinuous stragglers, though eventually, the beasts stopped slipping by.

    When the tail of the last of the eels he could see rushed away, relief flooded Fritz and he let out a long sigh.

    "This feels wrong," Bert complained.

    "What?" Fritz asked exasperatedly. He kept an eye out for monsters, though it seemed that the danger had passed in truth. He could see his crew gathered in the ring of trees, slaughtering an errant eel with ease.

    Bert grumbled something that he was too distracted to hear.

    "What?" Fritz asked again.

    "I''m meant to carry you," Bert stated glumly.

    "We carry each other, idiot."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 64

    Fritz let Bert lean on him. The man was heavy, but not too great a burden. They sloshed through the chest-high sea, towards their team who were in the ring of trees ahead, sitting and standing on the roots and carving into an eel, skinning it and splitting its length to get to its lightning stone.

    "Those damn bolts. Everything aches," Bert grumbled as Fritz pulled him along.

    "I know, I know," Fritz reassured.

    "That''s not the worst thing. No, not the worst thing," Bert grumbled.

    "What is the worst thing?" Fritz asked, humouring his brother, letting him vent his frustration.

    "The worst thing is how it turns your muscles weak, like a jellyfish," Bert groused as they reached the roots and the team amongst the trees.

    "And leaves you all shaky," George added.

    "It''s painful," Toby stated. "And my hands are still a little slow after my shock."

    "Well, we''ve left the eels behind, there shouldn''t be much more of them. Far less likely to be struck again," Fritz said. "Do you see any around, Toby?"

    "No, only this one chased us here. And I think that''s because some leech blood dripped on us when Cal threw it," Toby explained.

    "Sorry," Cal said.

    "It was bound to happen eventually," Fritz consoled. "The first two throws were perfect, mistakes happen."

    Cal nodded. "I''ll do better next time."

    "I''m sure you will," Fritz said. "Team, did we take any injuries?"

    "Apart from what you saw yourself, Rosie got bitten which I''ve closed up already," Jane reported.

    "Wasn''t too bad, but it got me between the scales, the bastard," Rose said.

    "Good, great even," Fritz said. "Glad no one was hurt too badly. George, how are you holding up?"

    "Legs are still a bit stiff, but I can walk. And fight," he replied solidly.

    "We''ll take a small break then. I''ll scout ahead," Fritz said. "Maybe we should have something to eat, regain our Stamina. Where are those fruits?"

    "I propose we call them tingle fruits," Bert said as Cal proffered one of the more full sacks.

    "Absolutely not," Lauren said.

    "How about blood limes," Toby said.

    Normally Fritz would have teased the man for such a needlessly morbid name, but it seemed to fit, the flesh and syrup did somewhat resemble an open wound dripping with gore.

    "I''ll agree to that," Fritz said. "Even if it is a bit grim."

    "Boo," Bert complained, but he was the only one, most of the others were biting into their own blood limes and enjoying them. He soon joined them, chewing exaggeratedly.

    "Hmm," Fritz hummed.

    "What?" Rosie asked through a mouthful of red.

    "I was deciding if I like them or not, they''re very strange, sweet on the outside yet sour on the inside. It should be the other way around really," Fritz mused.

    She just looked at him like he was mad.

    "They''re delicious," she stated.

    It made sense to Fritz that she''d think so, these fruits were as close as one could come to confectionery without some baking and sugar. They must be divine to someone who had never eaten well. He decided he liked the fruits, though they were odd, especially the tingling.

    "You''re right," he agreed, taking another syrupy, sour bite.

    "They might be even better if cooked into a tart or pie," Lauren added.

    "Maybe I should take up baking," Cal mused.

    "Maybe you should," Bert said. "Everyone loves a baker."

    Fritz finished a third blood lime then washed his tingling hand.

    "I''m off for some daring scouting. Toby, keep an eye out. Bert, you''re in charge," Fritz said. He leapt onto the shadowed roots and cloaked himself in dusk.

    Jane gasped, he''d forgotten she hadn''t seen him pull this particular trick, it was getting rather difficult to remember who he''d told what with all lies he had spun. He shook his head, that would all have to be worked out later at the precipice, where they would all have to agree on some sort of story, were they to stay alive on the outside.

    Fritz slipped from root to root and soon was through the ring of trees, standing before a small, still sea surrounding the titanic tree. The water was deeper here, he could tell that much at a glance. It was as clear as a plane of glass. He could see no great aberrant eel within, nor could he see the Stairway''s entrance, though it had to be close. He pulsed his Door Sense and, even as close as he was, only felt a minute resonance.

    Fritz counted that small signal as a win, the Door was here somewhere and they hadn''t been led astray. Something he''d be happy to take full credit for. He didn''t let this sudden elation distract him from the danger. Somehow he could feel it, the aberrant, its presence was an eerie feeling that coldly crept up and over his spine.

    He searched the still sea for his foe, nothing stirred save the whispering leaves. Slowly Fritz traversed the edge of the ring of roots, keeping his eyes on the water.

    Then he spotted it. Lurking deep below, an enormous lightning eel. It bore more than a passing resemblance to its lesser kin, though its discolouration and great size revealed its aberrant nature. Its scales were as dark as storm clouds, blending with the silt it lay upon. The Eel was as still as a stone, he would have thought it asleep if its glowing eyes weren''t wide open.

    Those bright silver-blue eyes stared into nothing, perhaps it was asleep and it merely didn''t have eyelids. Many, if not most, fish, didn''t. Now that he had come to the conclusion it hadn''t spotted him, wasn''t watching him, Fritz''s rapid heartbeat slowed. He tried to gauge how big the creature was, it was at least twice the size of the other eels, it rivalled the armoured shark, at around thirty feet in length, though it had little of its width and none of its bulky plates.

    What it did have was a sleek, unscarred body that positively hummed with hidden power. Having seen his foe, Fritz made to retreat, but his stomach lurched and his heart leapt in his chest when one of those glowing eyes locked onto his own. Lightning crackled through its silver-blue irises, and Fritz felt the Eel''s hunger. Its pupil narrowed and he felt its hate as a cold, cruel spike right through his chest.

    Dusksong chirped in mocking notes, and the aberrant noticed. Confusion mingled with disdain and fury in that great eye. Light seared Fritz''s eyes as arcs of lightning burst from the eel, they split out and bounded all through the clear water of the basin, striking outlying trees. Roots sparked and were scorched by bolts of blue-white, loud cracking filled the air followed by plumes of white smoke that poured from the pale wood.

    Fritz ran, leaping back and away from the beast''s thunderous threat, for that was what this bright display was, a warning to all who attempted to cross its territory. To all who tried to escape before it itself could finally be free. How he knew all this, he couldn''t be certain, in fact, he wasn''t even certain if it were true at all, and was rather his own fears for himself attributed to the aberrant eel''s actions.

    It wasn''t the time to muse on such things, he swiftly returned to his team, leaping and bounding, careful not to touch the sea.

    He was greeted by muttering and whispering, obviously they had heard the Eel let loose its lightning and worried for his, and their own, safety.

    "He''ll be fine," Bert reassured, likely not for the first time.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    "Indeed I am," Fritz professed, shedding his ephemeral cloak.

    "See, told you so, "Bert said not missing a beat.

    "What was all that noise?" Jane asked.

    "Was it the aberrant?" Toby added, finishing the question.

    "Correct, it was the aberrant," Fritz said solemnly, letting the silence that fell from his words stretch on.

    "And!?" Lauren asked after some moments.

    "And it was large and dark, and its lightning could cover the whole basin in which it dwells," Fritz explained. "Worst of all it guards the way out."

    "Then we''re doomed?" Cal asked morosely.

    "No, not if I can help it," Fritz proclaimed. "You see. I have a plan."

    ---

    The team took their places in the ring of trees overlooking the clear sea between them and the way up. Not one of them spoke or made a sound, they knew the plan, and they had their orders.

    Fritz signalled and Cal threw the last of their leeches where he pointed. It soared through the air in a too-smooth tumble and splashed to the right of where the aberrant Eel lurked. For a moment Fritz worried that the beast wouldn''t take the bait, but like its lesser kin, it couldn''t seem to resist the call of its preferred prey''s blood. It sped to the surface and its massive jaws closed over the leech. It gobbled all the black, rubbery flesh down in seconds, and with hungry eyes, it looked around for more food.

    It raised its head and part of its long body above the waterline, turning its massive face slowly. It found nothing but an arrow, that clinked off its scales harmlessly. Throwing daggers, glowing red, glanced off its massive bulk just as ineffectively. The Eel hissed, searching this way and that trying to spot its assailants as they hid behind trees and out of sight.

    Inwardly Fritz cursed, he had only expected the poisoned arrow to do little more than cut the creature, though it seemed even that was too much to ask for when pitted against the creature''s steely scales.

    Nevermind that, onto the next step.

    He wove Lethargy into the Eel and it shuddered strangely, its eyes darting around with more intensity than they held before. Fritz signalled again, this time to Bert, who grumbled and strode out of the cover of the trees. He was wrapped in eel skin, covered head to toe in the stuff and as insulated as they could make him.

    "Over here!" He cried. The sound came out muffled from his mostly hidden face, and the Eel turned its eye to gaze at him.

    For three seconds it just stared, then it lunged, fast as an arrow. Its sinuous movement was startling for a creature of its size, but Bert was able to avoid its first bite with a leap backwards. The Eel followed with another snap of its jaws and it missed the man by an inch. The monster was within the ring of trees and roots so it was time to enact the part of the plan Fritz was most worried about.

    "Now!" Fritz ordered, his heart pounding and hoping their idea would work.

    The team threw glittering sticks at the beast and Bert stopped backing up suddenly. Bert sped forward, striking the Eels elongated snout with a combination of his Bull Rush and Concussive blow. The sheer force of the attack rocked the massive creature backwards and seemed to stun it for a moment before its scales glowed with terrible blue-white light.

    Lightning arced in many bright tendrils, cascading off of trees, off of Bert''s form and into the branches they had sewn with scales beforehand and thrown on Fritz''s order. The lighting catchers floated on the water and absorbed most of the loosed energy. Some were set alight, but most merely glowed and sizzled. The burst of lightning left Bert smoking and shaking, but he could still move. The man charged again, slamming a fist into one of the Eels eyes, bursting it like a rotting melon. It screeched in agony, its cacophonous cries causing Fritz to wince.

    "Go!" Fritz called out, motioning widely so his order was still clear even through all the noise.

    George leapt and Sever screamed, cutting a furrow in the creature''s middle. From the other side, fire flowed out in a torrent catching the dull scales and clinging on with a searing grip. Another terrible shriek hissed from the Eel and a spear stuck straight into the beast''s left gill, adding a gurgling whine to its cries. Rosie joined the fray, jumping in with the bittersteel dagger and warpick in each hand. She landed on the beast''s scaly back and sunk both her red-rimmed weapons into its hide, piercing the scales with ease.

    The aberrant thrashed and shook her off in an instant, then it searched for the fire wielder, its eyes flashed with power and lighting bounded between its fangs. It found Lauren and she only had a split second to activate her ring, covering her in ice before a bright, white bolt leapt straight to her from the monster''s mouth. The sound was louder than any of the bursts Fritz had heard previously, more a boom than a crack and it nearly sent him to his knees.

    Lauren fared far worse than that, the armour of ice burst apart in chucks and steam. She herself was flung from where she stood and fell into the sea. She made no sound as she did so and Fritz was worried that she''d died from the strike.

    There was no time to help her though, the Eel was conjuring another bolt in its massive maw. Fritz gripped the flame rod in his hand and waited, now that Lauren was unconscious, maybe drowning, he would have to fulfil her role.

    The Eel turned its head to the next deadly threat, George and his mighty greatsword. The man had heaved himself out of the sea and back onto the roots, and was readying himself for another leaping slash.

    "Rosie!" Fritz called out to the woman still scrabbling onto solid wood.

    An invisible wave of almost-blue bloomed from her in an expanding bubble and the Eel''s head snapped towards her violently as the energy washed over its head. There was another boom as another bolt was released. The lightning caught Rosie, but she was also bundled in eel skin. Thin smoke streamed from her, but she held onto the roots, frozen in place.

    Again the beast began to gather lighting in its mouth as it was pelted with stones by Cal. Toby tried to disrupt the oncoming bolt with a throwing dagger, but it clattered harmlessly off its fangs, only succeeding in soaking some lighting. His face contorted in fear, and he stepped back a few paces. For a second Fritz thought he would flee, but Toby sprinted forward, stepped into a shadow and darted darkly to a point on the Eel''s exposed back.

    He stood upon the monster, his silver dagger glowed with white light and jagged red, while the wooden one, was slick with dark goo. He plunged both his daggers down and raked them through the aberrant''s flesh, parting the scales like paper. The monster thrashed, and Toby was thrown off. There was a flash of light and the boom sounded.

    Fritz uncovered his eyes and swiftly assessed who had been struck this time. He exhaled in relief, the bolt had shattered a tree rather than one of the team.

    "Die!" George cried as he leapt for a second time, Sever and his sword shrieking through the air.

    This time the Eel was ready and coiled itself backwards, swiping its tail at the man. Scale met the copper blade that was wreathed in white light, and with a splash the end of its tail fell into the water, having been sliced off cleanly by the wickedly sharp sword.

    Blood poured from the wound, and the aberrant coated its scales in small arcs of lightning. Then it fled from the ring of trees. Or it tried to, it stopped suddenly and raised half its bulk out of the water like it was stretching for the sky. Its body shuddered violently and it began to writhe in place. Lighting leapt from its body erratically, striking aimlessly, though most of the errant bolts were absorbed by the scale-wrapped branches they had scattered.

    George fled as fast as he could, his water shield activating reactively and protecting him from the worst of the damage. Toby was already on the root tops, having used his Shadow Slink to gain distance. And Bert, well Bert was fine in all his eel skin.

    "Take cover," Fritz ordered. "Bert, find Lauren. Over there!"

    His commands were followed and he himself hid behind the trunk of a tree as the Eel danced and lighting rained. Among the cracks and booms, there was a high whine, a scream of agony. Then it all stopped all at once, the Eel lowered its head, its entire length undulated. It opened its maw, but instead of blue-white light a black torrent of sticky sludge sprayed from it.

    The team stared on for three seconds, until the beast ceased pouring out the contents of its stomach. It looked around dully with its good eye, though that only lasted a second, as again it shuddered violently and more dark stinking, chunky liquid issued from its mouth.

    It seemed the poisoned leech had worked and the raider''s toxins had finally taken effect. Now to see if the other poison worked. Cautiously Fritz snuck into position, aimed the flame rod at one of the Eel''s open wounds and activated the Treasure. Burning tar spat from the rod''s tip and splattered the beast''s body. The Eel shrieked and ducked under the waves to extinguish the fire, but it was too late, Fritz could see lines of orange ember stretching like veins under the dull scales.

    Smoke began to pour from under the Eel''s skin, and even though the monster plunged deep into the water, the smoke still bubbled to the surface. It was as though the aberrant''s blood had been turned to fire and it was being cooked from the inside out.

    And that was fitting, because it was, due to one of the Raider''s poisons. Specifically, the one that made blood flammable. He''d been unsure if it would work, but it had been worth a try. Very worth a try as it turned out.

    Fritz grinned as the sea boiled. He watched the water, at first there were merely clouds of steam, but soon that steam formed a fog too dense to see through.

    "We did it?" Bert asked, waddling to Fritz''s side and setting down an unconscious, soaked, but still breathing Lauren.

    "We did," Fritz said.

    "Are you sure it''s dead?" Toby asked as he joined with Jane.

    "Not really, though I''m not sure there''s much that could survive having their veins set to burn like oil," Fritz stated.

    "I could," Bert boasted.

    "No you couldn''t," Toby argued.

    "We''ll never know, none of that stuff left," Bert said sagely.

    "Where did you even get such a thing was it in a chest or something?" Toby asked. "I could do with a deadly venom like that."

    "Don''t you have Venom Strike? Why would you need an additional poison?" Fritz asked.

    "Yeah, but you know you can never have too many poisons," Toby stated and Fritz almost agreed.

    Lauren groaned.

    "Nevermind all that, you two have another potion, give it to Lauren," Fritz ordered. "She may be fine, though I''m not willing to risk it."

    Toby looked to Jane, his face a mask of worry. She slapped his arm gently and brought out a vial of red liquid and fed its contents to the unconscious woman.

    After nine seconds Lauren awoke, and Fritz let out a long exhalation.

    "Did we win?" Lauren asked.

    "Yes," Jane said, smiling. Lauren returned the smile.

    "Any potions for me?" Rosie asked, shuffling over. "I hurt all over."

    "I''m afraid that was the last one. Though as you''re up and about, I doubt you need it," Fritz said.

    "Well done taking that lightning bolt," Bert said. "I''m starting to think that you''re as tough as me and that''s saying something."

    "Hah, thanks," Rosie said, then spat a bloody glob to the side.

    "Where''s the Eel?" Lauren asked seriously. "Are we sure it''s dead?"

    Fritz pointed to the clouds of steam still spewing from the sea.

    "If it could survive that we would have been in serious trouble,"he espoused.

    "We were in serious trouble," Lauren stated rubbing her head. "I take it the poisons finally kicked in."

    "Yes," Toby said. "Might have been overkill really," He added sadly.

    "Definitely not overkill, that thing had to die and quickly. We couldn''t risk it hiding and fighting off the poisons somehow," Fritz explained.

    "True as the rain," Bert agreed.

    "Anyone else hurt?" Fritz asked.

    "I took a stray bolt at the end there, but it was weak," George said. "Nothing the Well can''t heal."

    "Speaking of, where''s the Stairway?" Toby asked.

    Fritz glanced at the man suspiciously, but he was sitting casually with an arm around Jane. Not about to try to head them off in some plan to rob them or leave them behind so they could spin some tale to the Nightshark. Still, it was best to be vague, just in case.

    "Oh, somewhere in that tree," Fritz said with a wave. "Don''t worry about it, it''s not going anywhere. And we still need to scavenge what we can from what remains of the Eel."

    The crew grumbled and groaned but they knew he was right. There was no way they could leave behind an Aberrant Seed.

    "Who''s up for a swim?" Fritz asked blandly.

    They looked at the still boiling water and most scowled at the thought.

    "Me!" Bert said. "Slap some of that gill-grease on me and I''ll go take its Seed."

    "Wait until it''s cooled down," Lauren sighed. "I don''t want to be wasting all my stamina to heal you because you leave the water as red as a cooked lobster."

    "Fair enough," Bert said and all returned their gaze to the steaming sea.

    "While we wait, how about some lunch?" Fritz asked. "Cal, some fried shark and perhaps some Eel if you would."

    "Yes, sir," Cal said drily.

    "Add the fruit, make sauce or something," Bert added.

    Cal looked like he was going to argue something but Lauren spoke before he could get out whatever he had planned to say.

    "That would be lovely, you can do that can''t you Cal?" She asked with a strained smile.

    "Of course," he said, grinning.

    "Good lad, get on it," Bert commanded boisterously.

    As they sat there and the sounds and smells of cooking filled the air, the sense that they had won, that they had succeeded slowly set in. Soon they were all smiling all chatting and once food was served they were eating happily.

    The spite bore down on them and they ignored it, they had already beaten it. This spire had been conquered. Their triumph was true. All they had to do was Climb the last Stairway and then they were free.

    Absently Fritz smirked up at the sky, at the sun and the spite.

    "We won."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 65

    The lunch Cal cooked up for the team as they waited for the sea to cool was a fine feast. Or could have been, Fritz supposed, as he himself couldn''t focus on the flavours. It seemed he wasn''t alone in his distraction, even as they praised the food, especially the sand shark in blood lime sauce, they found themselves trailing off as they spoke or just staring at the steaming water.

    Cal was less than enthused by the lacklustre praise, but he too kept looking over his shoulder and almost burnt a portion of their meat. Though no one but Fritz seemed to notice that. He gave the man a sympathetic smile which he returned with a slight shrug as if to say, "What can you do?"

    It took six minutes for the boiling in the basin to stop, but it was almost thirty minutes before the steam ceased rising from the sea''s surface. Once the warm fog had cleared, they quickly concluded it was safe enough for Bert to swim down to rip anything of value from the Eel''s charred corpse. Lauren also offered to perform the task, stating that perhaps her Fire Resistance would make her more suited to the task.

    "You might not be strong enough to get to the good stuff, like the Seed and the lightning stone," Bert said.

    Lauren nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you''re right."

    "Why not just drag it up?" Cal asked.

    "What?" Bert asked.

    "Drag the whole corpse up," Cal repeated.

    "A brilliant idea," Bert proclaimed. "You can come with me, between the two of us we can haul the thing up easily."

    Cal paled a little, but nodded in agreement once Lauren assured him she''d soothe his burns if he suffered any. Bert dived in first, resurfacing swiftly only to beckon the still reluctant man to follow with an insistent gesture.

    "Its hot, but not too hot," Bert claimed. "Get in here!"

    Cal sighed, then leapt from the rootbank, splashing then sinking below the water. A minute later the two appeared with the Eel''s blackened, massive skull.

    They heaved it onto the roots and George whistled.

    "Where''s the rest?" Fritz asked.

    "You''ll get it in a minute," Bert replied, sucking in a long breath.

    "It was too awkward to move the entire thing," Cal explained. "We broke it into chunks."

    "Oh, good, I was afraid it had all turned to ash or something," Fritz said.

    "Most of it did," Bert said. "But you''ll see that soon. Come, Cal, let''s gather the rest for our lord."

    They dived again, and after three trips into the depths, the whole Eel had been brought to one of the large rootbanks where the team began to break apart and salvage what they could of the creature''s charcoal carcass.

    "Most of it is ruined," Lauren observed. She sighed. "I guess that''s the cost of using that poison."

    "Or overkill in general," Toby added.

    "I, for one, consider overkill to be far more preferable to underkill," Fritz proclaimed. "Need I remind you what that thing could have done to us if we didn''t throw absolutely everything we had at it?"

    "For once, you''re right," Toby allowed.

    "I''m always right, you just haven''t seen the whole scheme yet. My great plan has been years in the making. Its myriad mysteries and countless complexities would shatter your minute mortal minds," Fritz lied easily.

    Jane snorted and Toby shook his head, smirking slightly.

    "Is this about your conspiracy to throw Rain City into chaos?" Bert hissed in a loud whisper. "I thought that was a supreme secret."

    "Quiet, fool! Don''t let the non-conspirators hear you, some might be the king''s spies," Fritz said replying in his own false whisper and glancing around with exaggerated suspicion.

    "What are you two blathering about? Even in jest, why are you playing with treason?" Lauren asked, seemingly annoyed. "And why aren''t you searching for the Seed with the rest of us?" She added, wiping a soot-stained hand over her brow and leaving a long, black smudge.

    "That''s a good question. Must be all the excitement. Let''s get to work," Bert said. "Fritz, come on, you too."

    "Must I?" Fritz sighed, only mostly putting on the weariness in his tone.

    "You must," Bert stated. "You may be a lord, but I won''t let you be a lazy one."

    Fritz smiled and joined the team in picking the corpse clean of anything valuable.

    He discovered that there really wasn''t all that much to pick, it was as if the Eel had been placed in a forge and left to burn for hours. Its body had been reduced to charcoal and broke apart in tough chunks. Its bones had suffered the same forge fire fate and only the monster''s spine remained. The outside of that bony length was as black as the rest of the body, but below that brittle, baked, surface there was a long, intertwined rope of copper and gold cords that ran down the entire spine.

    "Makes me almost want to go back and check the other eels," Bert said hefting the rope of precious metal.

    "We could do the same thing as we did with the clearblood eels," Rosie suggested.

    "Gods! No!" Fritz cried and his vehemence was echoed by the rest of the team. The last they wanted to do was fight another lightning eel.

    "If I ever see another one of those bastards, it will be thirty years too soon," Lauren said with uncommon vulgarity.

    No one noted that breech of etiquette though, instead they merely nodded in agreement.

    "Ah! I think this is it," Bert cried, spotting something.

    Before Fritz could remind and warn the man about the lightning stones there was the familiar crack and flash of blue-white light.

    Bert was sent sprawling as he yelled, "Ouch!"

    Lauren rushed to the man as did Jane.

    On his back, Bert began to laugh as pale green light eased the burns on his smoking hand.

    "Found the stone," Bert stated. "It''s got a little more bite than the smaller ones. Maybe I shouldn''t have taken off those gross gloves."

    "Serves you right, and don''t call the gloves I sewed for you gross," Jane sniffed.

    "Cal, have we got any more eel skin?" Lauren asked. "To wrap the stone?"

    "Only what they''re wearing," Cal said motioning to both Bert and Rosie.

    "Just shove it in that foul glove," Fritz said.

    "What did I just say?" Jane asked.

    "I didn''t call them gross, I called them foul," Fritz pointed out.

    "You know what I mean," she said though there was very little heat to the words, in fact, all the bickering had quite a light tone to it. Something Fritz was glad for, it meant that the precipice conversations, contracts and conditions he would have to contrive were likely to be well received.

    Without further blasts of lightning the stone was carefully removed, this one looked less like coal veined with copper and more like an orb of obsidian set with smooth lines of copper. It was potent, far more potent than the lesser stones of the lesser eels, and it hummed with a deep, deadly power.

    "Whoa," Bert exhaled as he held the head-sized stone up for the others to see.

    Some murmured in appreciation, but most stepped back from the man and the stone lest they suffer the same sizzling fate of being shocked. It was put away swiftly, but not before being stuffed into as much eel skin as they could spare.

    Eventually, they discovered what they were truly looking for, the aberrant Seed. It was similar to the lightning stone, if twisted and malformed and more an oval than a sphere. It was also of dark stone and riddled with odd, erratic lines of gold and copper.

    "Wow," Cal said.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "It looks weird," Rosie stated.

    "Of course it does, it''s aberrant," Lauren said.

    "So you can use this like other Seeds?" Rosie asked, eyeing the thing greedily.

    "No," Lauren said seriously. "It needs to be refined first. Using one raw is the height of foolishness, all kinds of things can go wrong. Magical stunting, mutation, madness and even death await those who would attempt such a thing."

    "Oh. Yeah, I''ve heard that," Rosie said scratching her head and thinking.

    "Yes, only a fool would do such a thing, a complete idiot, a cretin of the highest order," Bert said, grinning the whole time.

    "Don''t you dare use it, Bert," Jane accused.

    "I won''t," Bert said. "I was just saying that you would have to be feeble-minded to do such a thing. A real moron."

    Fritz smiled blandly, hiding his annoyance and smoothing his frown.

    "What do we do with it?" He asked, diverting the conversation.

    "Depends, if someone wants lighting or ''eel'' powers: we have it refined. If we can afford it. Or we sell it for quite a lot of gold," Lauren said. "If we take it to one of the Treasury''s auctions we might get thousands of triads for it."

    Toby and Jane hissed in surprised breaths.

    "That''s a lot of gold," Jane nearly whispered.

    "It is. Though let''s talk about gold and its division once we''re actually at the precipice," Fritz declared. "Did we find anything else useful on the eel?"

    "Just it''s fangs, there''s a lingering hint of lightning on them," Lauren said.

    "Too bad the rest of the beast was burnt away, no scales or meat," Bert bemoaned, and not for the first time.

    "Well, if that''s it, we better get moving," Fritz stated. "The precipice awaits and new power is ours to seize."

    There were excited smiles and nods at the proclamation, and soon they were all packed up and ready to swim over the basin and to the great tree.

    With splashing and sloshing, they waded into the water and began to swim. While they did so something in the clear depths caught Fritz''s eye. A glittering of bronze. He stopped suddenly, treading water to stay afloat, aided by the buoyancy of his traveller''s pack.

    "Hey! I see something!" Fritz called out, causing them all to similarly stop and stare around.

    "What!? Bert cried. "Is it another eel?"

    "No, can you see that glimmer of bronze?" Fritz asked motioning to the hole, actually more a cave, tucked under the great tree''s roots.

    "Maybe," Bert hedged. "Is it a chest?"

    "Could be. Slap on some gill-grease and go check," Fritz ordered "We''ll wait for you at the tree."

    "Yes, captain," Bert said, then after applying the fish guts scented stuff he handed off his own travellers pack to Fritz, letting him sink to the bottom with surprising speed.

    "No use waiting," Fritz said. "Let''s get to that tree."

    Soon they were gathered on the tree''s great roots and waiting for Bert to appear with what could be a chest, though it was likely something far more mundane.

    After a couple of minutes, Fritz started to get nervous.

    "Do you think an eel got him?" Rosie asked with unusual worry in her voice.

    "No," George said, but he didn''t elaborate on his reasoning.

    Then Fritz could see him, kicking mighty legs and holding not one but two objects one under each of his arms.

    "There he is," Fritz said pointing out the man''s swimming figure.

    "Oh, yeah, I see him!" Cal shouted.

    "Is that two chests?" Jane asked eagerly.

    "It might just be," Fritz confirmed though he doubted his own eyes.

    Bert broke the surface with a splash, then yelled, "Catch!"

    He threw the first chest clumsily with one hand, and the second one easily with both. Cal only just caught the one thrown to him while the other fell neatly into Rosie''s outstretched arms.

    "Whoa!" George cried. And he wasn''t the only one to yell in excitement. All save Fritz, who was maintaining a calm yet delighted facade, made some kind of exclamation, be it an excited scream or wordless whoop.

    Both the chests were banded with bronze, and Fritz thought it a shame they weren''t silver or gold, though the fact there were two of them reduced his resentments.

    "Two whole chests. What a delight," Fritz tried to say mildly, but he was grinning ear to ear just as Bert was.

    "That''s not the best part," Bert stated.

    "Oh, and what is?" Fritz enquired.

    "There''s another one, and something even better," Bert claimed.

    "Where is it?" Fritz asked, searching the man for hidden treasure.

    "I left it down there, only have two hands," Bert chided smugly. "Not a squid you know."

    "You''ve the brains of one," Fritz reflexively retorted. "Now use the arms you do have to go get the last chest."

    "As you command," Bert laughed, diving again.

    Fritz and the team waited patiently, or as patiently as they could with two bronze chests basically begging to be opened. They held fast, not letting their greedy natures get the best of them and soon Bert appeared again, bursting out from the water with another bronze banded chest and something that looked like a clear orb with some blurry substance in its centre.

    He threw the chest without much care, handling the stone far more gently. He cradled the thing under one arm as he clambered up the roots. Fritz held out a hand and Bert took it, letting himself be pulled up.

    "What is that? A gem?" Fritz asked.

    "An egg," Bert corrected, and as if he had planned it the cloudy ball within the clear sphere sparked slightly.

    "The aberrant eel''s egg?" Jane breathed her face one of surprise and sudden calculation. "That''s perfect."

    "Perfect for what?" Lauren asked sceptically. "None of us are beastmasters. They are exceedingly rare outside of the Primal Aligned Spires."

    "Though this Spire is technically a Primal Spire if very weakly so," she added, correcting herself. "I''m afraid it wouldn''t fetch a high price unless maybe a Jastili merchant would buy it. Even then the cost of keeping it alive, unborn and unbonded might make that too much of a liability."

    "No, nothing to do with selling it," Jane said. "Or holding onto it."

    "Then what?" Lauren asked.

    "It''s ahh, uh... a secret," Jane said, lamely.

    "Nevermind that, let''s drag these chests to the Stairway," Fritz said, cutting off any more inquiries. Convinced as he was that it had something to do with their predicament on the outside and didn''t want to have that conversation there and then. "We can open these chests in the safety of the Well room, we''ve spent too much time lingering on this floor already. I for one will be happy to be healed and receive our well-earned rewards."

    "And be out of the spite," Cal added hopefully.

    "That too," Fritz said.

    There was a smattering of agreement and a lot of nodding, so they gathered up their packs, the chests, and began the treacherous route over the roots. It didn''t take long before they were in front of the Stairway.

    The sight of the Door and the stairs brought with it a swell of sublime elation, there were cheers and much backslapping. Some nearly cried in happiness and many did.

    Weeping openly, but saying not a word George wiped away his tears with a patch of sirensilk and he wasn''t the only one. Fritz and Bert, as experienced veterans of such extremes of emotion merely grinned on as the rest of the crew, especially Toby and Jane, trudged up the stairs in teary relief and giddy triumph.

    Fritz was first into the Door as was proper, he led them going in so he''d lead them going out. And so it was he who had the honour to be the first to gaze upon the Well room. He strode across those scaly stone floors, passing by pillars in that same ever-present pattern. As soon as he set foot in the room he could feel the spite retreating, that heavy blanket and irrepressible ire lifting away from his shoulders and leaving him feeling as free as a bird.

    He hadn''t realised just how much the spite had been weighing on him, it was like he had been carrying a great stone on his back and only now had it fallen away. Every stride came quicker, easier, and soon he was strutting rather than striding, revelling in the release. There were sighs of relief behind him and mumbles that varied from thanking the gods to cursing the spite.

    As Fritz walked, searching for the Well, he took in the room. It had a roof of scaled stone held up by pillars and walls of glass. Those clear window-walls revealed a grand view of Rain City in all its sunken grandeur and drowning disgrace, but he didn''t let the sight distract him. There, in the centre of the room past all the ordered pillars, was the Well. It was a great fountain carved in the likeness of a merfolk man in ornate robes and holding a staff that sprayed water in a high, thin dome around it.

    Fritz vaguely recognised the merfolk''s regal, handsome features, but didn''t know exactly where he''d seen them before. He supposed it was likely from some ball or party he''d been forced to attend to by his parents. With a shake of his head, he cleared his thoughts, denying his mind as it attempted to dredge up old, sharp memories from the mud of his past.

    Steadily, he made his way to the fountain and was soon overtaken by the rest of the team running past him, trying to be the first to lay their hands on the merfolk statue. The Well pulsed with gold, illuminating the room with lustrous light. The dome of falling water shimmered, catching the bright brilliance and looking as though there were a protective sphere of radiance around the sculpted man.

    The team ran into the fountain''s shallow basin, but stopped on their heels before they touched the scintillating spray cascading from the slender staff.

    "Go on, go through it''s just a trick of the light, it won''t harm you," Fritz stated surely.

    They didn''t need much more encouragement and they slipped through the sheet of water and waded their way to the splendid sculpture, touching it tentatively with outstretched fingers, some of which trembled in excitement.

    Fritz was able to catch Bert before the two of them partook in the Well energies, whispering to him while the rest were distracted.

    "When the Golden chest appears put it straight into your pack, don''t let the team see we also got them," Fritz said.

    "Isn''t it a bit late for all that," Bert grumbled. "They probably know about our levels already, or have guessed. And Jane and Toby will know for sure. Why keep up the lie?"

    The comment gave Fritz pause, and he wondered if there was much point to keeping up all the deceptions he had woven. Some part of him wanted to be done with the lies, but a greater more paranoid part of him knew he had to hide as much of his power as possible lest he be scraped away like a skulg by the rulers of Rain City. Either to be used until useless or killed if he proved too pernicious.

    "Just do it for now," Fritz said. "Their ignorance is a shield for both them and us. The less they know the better."

    Bert considered it and shrugged.

    "Now, let''s go grab our rewards," Fritz said, smiling wide.

    Bert grinned and they made their way to the Well.

    The team were already sitting in a loose circle, seemingly not minding they were almost up to their shoulders in the basin''s water. They were obviously deep within their Sanctums and considering their choices, completely entranced.

    Fritz sloshed past Jane and Toby, and placed a hand on the sculpture, and although he felt he really should know the carved man he ignored that feeling and instead focused on the energies pouring up his arm and into his centre. The Power burned coldly, but he was used to that freezing heat by now and it brought him pleasure rather than pain.

    He stepped back, then found somewhere more out of the way to fall into his Sanctum, Bert joined him and together they sat. With one last smile and grin, they closed their eyes and fell.

    Fritz found himself in his drizzling garden, standing in shadows below the slowly waving branches of his willow. Rain dripped from dark leaves, spattering his face and clothes. In the sky, bolts of energy danced in hues of gold, silver and bronze.

    Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, getting his nerves under his control he let the offerings come to him. They appeared in his mind as glyphs, humming with power and purpose.

    ---------

    Ability Evolution

    Illusory Shadow

    Choose One

    ---------

    ---

    Adhesive Gloom

    Illusory Shadow will be able to adhere to a physical surface.

    Cost increase: Two.

    ---

    Long Night

    Illusory Shadow''s duration will be increased threefold.

    Cost increase: One.

    ---

    Vast Dark

    Illusory Shadow''s radius will be increased threefold.

    Cost increase: One.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait or Strain

    Choose One

    ---------

    Strain: Merfolk

    Born to water, with scale and gill, to rule the seas, with ocean''s will.

    Activate and Align six points to the following advanced attributes: Essence of Water, Durability.

    Evolve into Merfolk Strain, changing your body in many ways, including, but not limited to, growing scales and gills.

    Increases resistance to pressure and cold.

    Alignment: Body, Primal, Water.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Permanent.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have spent many hours in the water.

    You have slain many sea-beasts.

    Influenced by Spire.

    Influenced by Authority. (Decree)

    ---

    Hand of Eldritch Flame

    A touch of chaos, a gift of pains, the burning hand, chars the chains.

    Coat your hand in Eldritch Flame.

    Alignment: Chaos, Fire, Ruin, Shadow.

    Cost: One per minute.

    Duration: Channelled.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have slain a powerful foe with fire.

    Influenced by Refinement.

    Influenced by Shaping.

    Influenced by Sanctum.

    ---

    Venomous Fangs

    Sharp and sudden, a viper''s bite, fangs flush fully, with all your spite.

    You grow glands that produce venom and fangs capable of delivering it.

    You gain resistance to poisons you produce.

    Activate and Align twelve points to the following Advanced Attribute: Venomwell.

    Alignment: Body, Poison, Primal.

    Cost: None

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    You have slain a powerful foe with the aid of venom.

    You have endured and recovered from being poisoned.

    Influenced by Path (Spy).

    Influenced by Spire.

    ---

    ---------

    Attributes Gained

    +3 Unaligned

    ---------

    Fritz looked them over carefully, he saw what was offered, and he sighed.

    "Well, looks like I have some interesting choices."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 66

    Fritz looked over his offerings with brow furrowed. Water dripped from his willow branches and he decided to take his contemplations to his pavilion. Out of the rain and under the silvery-grey wood he sat by the bight, moonsilver brazier, its eldritch flame still burning. The blue-green fire flickered and crackled, the hateful light glared and cast twisting shadows where it couldn''t reach.

    He leaned back in his chair and thought about what he should do. From his previous experience, he knew the Awards and Seed were granted after he chose his Trait and Evolution. Idly he wondered what would happen if he simply didn''t choose and left instead. Would the Spire stop him or would it simply not grant him the golden Seed and Chest?

    He shook his head, that didn''t matter, there was no way he could simply not pick his Powers, not when the energy burned so coldly in his chest. He considered then what he needed, what trials he would face outside. He had a feeling it may be some time before he would climb the Rain Spire. It wouldn''t be a sprint from one Spire to the other like they had done previously.

    Start with the Evolution, he told himself. That was the choice that would narrow the path ahead of him the least. He hadn''t found as much use for Illusory Shadow in this Spire, though it had come in handy here and there. Fritz considered why it hadn''t been as useful as many of his other Abilities as he looked over the changes offered and summarised their benefits.

    Adhesive gloom would let the shadow stick to a foe or perhaps something they carried which he knew would make it more effective against a swift opponent, or in a running battle. Long Night and Vast Dark made the illusory darkness last longer or cover more area, increasing it threefold, which just made it better at what it already did and not nearly as exciting as the first choice.

    Fritz suspected that it was both the cost and the static nature of Illusory Shadow that made it less flexible than he would like, and so it was that Adhesive gloom appealed most to him. Even if it did add more cost than the other two choices, the power to cover a foe''s face in sticking shadow for a whole nine seconds could be invaluable. That, and the fact that Vast Dark had appeared in his evolutions a second time meant he was likely to be offered either it or Long Night again.

    Now if suppress sound was a choice, like it had been the first time the Ability evolved, it might have been a harder decision to make, but he was confident in selecting Adhesive Gloom.

    He chose. The freezing energy within his centre shifted, the bolts of power in the clouds flowed down and into his willow. The dark leaves on the shadowy branches took on an odd sheen, their edges seeming to grow small tendrils of clinging shade. It wasn''t an ascetically pleasing change, but it was one Fritz could live with, as he suspected that, with the growing of his shadow powers, there was likely worse to come.

    It was time for his next choice, this one looking to be far more important, the last of his Traits and one that would likely shape the rest of his life as a Climber, and as a person.

    First was the offering of a Strain, the Merforlk Strain which would elevate him in the eyes of the nobility and grant him some other benefits such as being able to live underwater comfortably. That''s not to even mention the Activation of Essence of Water and Durability, which were useful Advanced attributes in their own right, especially Durability. There were even more advantages, Fritz knew from his lessons that a Strain wouldn''t take up a Trait Channel which would leave him at two Traits out of three.

    The Merfolk Strain was powerful, it would let him gain another Trait sometime in the future, when he reached level thirty. If he reached level thirty. But there were the downsides. A Strain could never be removed; only advanced, and he was unsure that this one was suited to him. Essence of Water. while a boon to any water mage, would be wasted on him and he could easily get by underwater with potions, greases or Treasures.

    Then there was the thing that caused him the most concern. At the bottom of the Influence clauses was the line "Influenced by Authority". Those particular glyphs were strangely faded, translucent, and had a slight hum that gave him the impression that they were meant to be hidden.

    There it was, that word again, ''Authority''. It was mentioned in ''The Observations'' as a passing concept, and he had thought it had contained some secret meaning then too. Here it was written in clear, grey-ish glyphs, not as an idea or a thought, but as a part of the magic of the Spires. Fritz didn''t know what to make of it, not yet, but it raised a lot of questions.

    What was Authority? Who held it? And what does it do?

    Fritz sighed, now wasn''t the time to be dwelling on such things, he had to choose his Trait quickly, lest the others return from their Sanctums swifter than he and spot his Golden chest appearing.

    He turned his attention back to the present, and the next choice. Hand of Eldritch Flame. Fritz felt many things upon seeing this offering, first was a deep annoyance, a flash of fury and a near-instant dismissal of the Trait, just like he had with its previous iteration of Eldritch Immolation.

    He glared at the eldritch fire. It danced in what he suspected might be malicious mockery, whispering wounding words in some unknowable tongue. Of course, it would ruin one of his Trait choices, more and more he was beginning to regret bringing the flame into his Sanctum, even if it had saved him a lot of trouble when absorbing the aberrant seed.

    Again he sighed, there was no use getting angry at the thing, it was his prisoner and in its place he might just do the same to his gaoler. In fact, he knew he would, they were alike in that way. He searched the description and it gave him pause. It no longer burned his entire body or Sanctum, just his hand. The fire could spread, he knew that fact intimately, but maybe, just maybe it could be cast without harming him too badly.

    There were a few ways he could think of to lessen the effects: his new glove for one had some sort of property that protected against lightning, maybe it would work as well against the eerie fire? He doubted it, but it was worth considering. The more obvious defensive measure was his Umbral Phase, would his shift into shadow let him slip out of the flame''s grasp? Again it was unlikely, as the eldritch flame was also aligned to shadow as well as fire.

    The last and most appealing solution to the problem of being engulfed in terrible, twisting fire, was Quicksilver. It had eaten the flame before and held it perfectly, could he perhaps set his hand alight and have his blade immediately consume it? Saving himself from scorching his hand into charcoal.

    "Maybe," he muttered.

    Too many maybes though, he thought.

    Unsure but not willing to spend too much thought on the Hand of Eldritch Flame, he concentrated on the last Trait offered: Venomous Fangs.

    This was another alteration to his body, though not quite as potent and pronounced as the Merfolk Strain. Or at least he hoped so, supposing the promised fangs would be able to be hidden. The resistance to poison it created was interesting and he wondered if that applied to poisons he mixed rather than ''produced'' in the granted glands. If so then if he dedicated himself to the raider''s poisoner technique it might make a deadly combination.

    The benefits didn''t stop there, it also activated Venomwell, likely some kind of poison Magical Attribute. A shame seeing as he had no poison-aligned Abilities. He wondered why he was even offered such a Trait but those clauses did explain it somewhat. He had relied on using poison to take down many of his foes, including whittling down the raider with clearblood venom.

    His view of the Trait was that it was powerful, but unsuited to compliment the Powers he already possessed. That, and he didn''t really want to grow fangs, even if being able to bite his foes could be a surprising tactic, if risky. Too risky really, even for himself.

    He was torn, none of the Traits offered appealed to him and his mind turned to the aberrant Seed, stuffed securely in one of Cal''s packs. Could he risk it again? His Sanctum felt far better than it had after his use of the Hound''s seed, but he could still feel some straining at the edges of this small world.

    Would it even work the same as that previous Seed? He suspected not, his intuition warned him that Lightning was not as compatible with his Sanctum as Shadow seemed to be. What if his willow was struck and set alight?

    Fritz supposed that maybe he could feed the lightning to the eldritch flame as he had with those other unwanted energies. He glanced at the moonsilver brazier.

    "How do you feel about eating lighting?" He asked it, not expecting a response.

    To his great surprise, it shuddered and shrank.

    "Oh, really?" Fritz mused. "That afraid of a little shock?"

    The flame burst back into a roiling and raging inferno, swinging a twisting tendril at him. Fritz pushed backwards, gracefully sliding away in his chair and easily foiling the attack, smirking the whole while. The fire rapidly receded to its confines, seething and softly shrieking.

    Outwardly Fritz stared on smugly, though inside he was disappointed at the flame''s reaction. From the corner of his eye, he could see a shadowy branch sway and stoop as if it shared his dejection. Which it did. It was him after all.

    Fritz eventually dismissed the idea of using the Seed. If it were for another Ability he might have risked it, but for something as powerful as a Trait, especially one he had no previous alignment to, be it lightning or simply ''eels''. He knew in his gut the risk was too great. The Trait gained might not even be a positive, or might have any other number of horrible consequences.

    Absently he wrung his hand, thinking of the agony the Hound''s Seed had wrought on him.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "No. No Seed," Fritz muttered into the rain. "Not this time."

    Admitting that had narrowed his choices down to the three offered, so he went over them again.

    Merfolk was the most useful, in his opinion, but he felt a certain revulsion to changing his form, especially into one favoured by the true nobility. While he didn''t find scales and gills off-putting as some did, in fact, most Merfolk ladies he''d seen were staggeringly beautiful, he felt that those alterations weren''t what he wanted. No, he didn''t want that, no matter if growing gleaming scales would grant him and his family some prestige.

    What was some amount of favour in the royal courts if he didn''t want to participate in their plotting and politics or even stay in Rain City anyway? Instead the transformation might actually bring him notoriety he, and by extension his family, couldn''t afford.

    It was also ''Influenced by Authority''. An odd anger bubbled in his gut at those words, while Dusksong mocked in a merry tune. Although it had also seemed disgusted, roiling and spitting when he considered the choice as a whole.

    Fritz didn''t completely trust the shifting, shadowy magic, but here he had to agree with its repellent impressions.

    No, the Merfolk Strain wouldn''t work. Not for him.

    The next was Hand of Eldritch Flame, it was powerful, he''d seen that terrible fire destroy a horde of hounds and force an Aberrant to retreat. But there was a risk he couldn''t use the Trait without harming himself. Though he also conceded that maybe, with his Control, he could shape it in such a way as to keep himself mostly safe, or even pour it straight into Quicksilver''s blade.

    With that in mind, the choice became far more appealing. The sheer destruction at his disposal could make him a true terror. Slyly, he listened to Dusksong, eavesdropping on his own magic. It held itself back as if not trying to make a sound, but he could hear jarring notes of spite and of a long held rivalry much-reviled.

    An interesting occurrence, he had thought these powers might be more amenable to each other as strange and otherworldly as they were. That was neither here nor there, so Fritz moved on to the last Trait.

    Venomous Fangs had the least drawbacks, however, it also had the least potential power, well, unless he were to gain some venomous Abilities or become some kind of master poisoner. The latter would likely involve learning some alchemy which could require months, perhaps years, of study and practice, not to mention the price of the various potent plants and magical materials he would need to go down such a path. Though, with the profit from the sale of the sirensilk maybe that wouldn''t be such a concern.

    No, this one wasn''t right for him either, he couldn''t spend all that gold and time studying, and the bite just wasn''t at all useful with his current style of fighting. One he was loathe to abandon completely.

    So it was that he considered this Trait to be the least risk and the least reward. And most of all, he didn''t feel strongly about this power or its potential. Even Dusksong seemed ambivalent to the offering, which wasn''t a great sign. He felt that he wanted to be excited for his Power, not begrudgingly bear it because the risk of taking what he really wanted was too great

    Stretching in his chair, Fritz went over each one last time, questioning their value and thinking on the two that Activated Attributes.

    Normally any Activation and allocation of Advanced Attributes would be a great boon, but he already had four. He was already struggling with their emotional effects and the burdensome bent of their prodding and poking. Sure he could benefit from a bit of ostensibly free Durability, but what would adding something as obviously poisonous as Venomwell do to him?

    There was also the consideration of his Attribute Alignments, again, a point here and there for Durability may be fine, but he had no use for Essence of Water and there was the chance he would spread his Attributes too thin and be pulled in too many ways.

    With an intense frown of concentration, Fritz eventually, finally, came to a conclusion.

    In the end, it came down to Hand of Eldritch Flame, not only because the Trait changed him the least and he had some feeling of closeness to the twisting energy, but because the last words in the rhyme called to him.

    "Char the chains," he intoned softly, making his choice.

    Power rained down from the sky, the brazier before Fritz shuddered and the blue-green flame within burned bright, its crackling, cackling form growing in height and heat. Fritz''s heart heaved, and his centre exuded incandescence, searing him. For a moment, he thought he''d made a terrible mistake, that his entire Sanctum would become a blue-green inferno.

    The terrible fire threatened to leak over the silver edges of its moonsilver cage, but was beaten back as the metal gleamed and the patterns on it shifted in shining scintillation. The lines took on new, wilder forms, branching and bending, though sealing the flame all the same.

    Sinister smoke poured from the brazier, small embers of eldritch light carried in its tortuously, twisting plumes.

    A sudden cool gust bore the smoke away, taking with it the tiny motes of fire. They flew on that breeze like a stream of glittering moths, soaring, sailing, into the swaying, shadowed boughs of his willow. In that breath of wind''s cold wake, the pain faded and the eldritch flame ceased its flailing, falling back into its unpredictable, flickering dance.

    Although the smoke had cleared, the embers remained, sitting in the shade of the branches like cruel, beautiful stars set against the empty night.

    Twisted and twinkling, blue and green, all those hues, and those between.

    For a second he was enchanted by the sight, and Dusksong halted its hidden hatred, accepting the new magic as it settled in Fritz''s Sanctum. Now it sang a different melody, one of petulant tolerance. The flame didn''t care one way or the other, it was beyond such things, it just needed to burn, and with the claiming of its power, it would get its wish. When the time came.

    Fritz found himself standing right before his willow. He wondered when he had stood up and strode to it, but dismissed the thought, instead taking some more moments to admire the sight.

    He was interrupted when gold pulsed, both in the sky and the new golden sigil engraved upon his willow. Glyphs of that same lustre lit up in his mind and in front of his eyes while the sigil chimed out potent notes of proud praise.

    ---------

    Gold Climb Achieved

    Congratulations

    ---------

    ---

    No Power conflicts detected.

    Awards Detected, Choices Pending.

    ---

    Seed Selections Pending.

    ---

    Gold Manifesting.

    ---

    ---------

    Spire Sigil Accepted.

    Mer Spire Awards Pending.

    ---------

    Bronze Award

    Activate or Reserve

    ---------

    Swift Swim

    Move through the water, as you wish, swim through the seas, like a fish.

    Increases swimming speed to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Boon, Water.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None.

    ---------

    Silver Award

    Activate or Reserve

    ---------

    Deep Water Acclimation

    Ignore the freezing, and heavy tide, search the seas and what they hide.

    Increases resistance to pressure and cold to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Boon, Body, Water.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive.

    Refresh: None

    ---------

    Gold Award

    Activate or Reserve

    ---------

    Tenacious Heat

    Warmth will linger, as fire fades, holding hotly, as cold cascades.

    Any heat you produce is harder to suppress and dispel to a minor degree. Increases resistance to heat to a minor degree.

    Alignment: Boon, Body, Fire, Water.

    Cost: None.

    Duration: Passive

    Refresh: None

    ---

    ---------

    ---------

    Seed Stored Ability

    Choose One

    ---------

    Word of Courage

    Lacerate

    Water Strike

    ---

    Poison Sense

    Quieted Steps

    Treasure Sense

    ---

    Deep Lungs

    Sound Resistance

    Venomous Conditioning

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz only glanced over the Seed abilities, including the appearance of Abilities he hadn''t seen before, far more interested in the Awards still hovering in his vision. If Lauren was to be believed, which she was as she hadn''t been wrong on anything so far, he could swap these out with his own Awards. He swiftly suspected that Activating them would switch them out and Reserving them would keep his current Awards in place. He went through each, weighing them against their respective competitors, bronze against bronze and gold against gold.

    Already he could see that his current set were more valuable, but he would give this decision the due diligence it deserved.

    First were the Bronze Awards: Swift Swim against Night Vision. It was an easy win for the Sense award, even if his Perception was high he doubted he could see through darkness well enough yet to compensate for its loss.

    Next were the Silver Awards: Deep Water Acclimation or Marbled Bones: Moonsilver. Again he favoured his previously awarded Award, its purifying nature had saved him more times than he could count and the resilience it lent to his, no longer delicate, frame was invaluable.

    Last were the Gold awards, this wasn''t much of a choice either. Tenacious Heat conferred some interesting comforts, likely keeping its user toasty warm even in the rain, but it just didn''t compare to Reignbreaker''s power to shrug off magic or mundane bindings.

    All in all the Awards weren''t too impressive, but what was to be expected of a Rookie Spire.

    With a sigh, he reserved all three of the Awards. The glyphs gleamed and pulled themselves into separate orbs of bronze, silver and gold. They darted towards his willow and sunk into the trunk, just where the Mer Spire''s sigil was carved. Their energies slipped into the odd lines and strange circles, the light fading slowly until only bright, beaming gold remained.

    There was one last choice to make, his Golden Seed Ability. Although his Ability channels were full, he knew, mostly from Lauren''s explanation and disparate memories, that Seeds could be used for Ascending, whatever that meant. And if the kind of Ability stored in the Seed affected the outcome of the Ascension at all that meant he had to choose carefully.

    There was also the chance that evolving an Ability or Trait might subsume another Ability into it, leaving a newly cleared channel empty, which made the Seed still valuable to him.

    He could also just sell the Seed, though the thought was anathema considering all the trouble he personally went through to earn it. No matter how much gold and favour he could gain from such an action. The sale of a Golden Seed with the right Ability might even be able to restore some small legitimacy to his House. He could return home with his sister and his brother.

    Fritz wiped his annoyingly aching eyes, as the warm, comfy fantasy flared then flitted away like the dream it was. He had enemies, both old and new, and they would need to fall before he could truly embrace that cosy life. Even then, would such an existence satisfy him?

    Fritz realised he was being distracted by thoughts of a faraway future, so he returned his attention to the long list of Abilities not chosen.

    He was immediately drawn to Treasure Sense. There were other useful Abilities listed, Word of Courage and Sound Resistance were tempting for varying reasons. The former would be great for keeping his team determined while the latter would hopefully protect his ears from incidental damage and accidental deafening, as he had suffered on the siren floor.

    Venomous conditioning also had a certain appeal, he might have taken it if he had chosen the Fangs Trait. If it was anything like Bert''s conditioning, where the resistance increased with exposure, the synergy would eventually make him immune to the poisons he exposed himself to. The rest of the choices, however, were not exciting enough to examine too closely.

    "No, I can''t pass it up again," Fritz announced to no one.

    He chose Treasure Sense, and golden light pulsed from the sigil engraved on his willow, flooding forth in a great wave and washing over his entire Sanctum before dissipating. He felt a thud on his knees and knew the golden chest had appeared outside.

    A spike of nervousness stabbed into him and he quickly flew out from his centre. From where Fritz sat, behind a pillar, he looked around to see he wasn''t the first to leave his Sanctum. Bert was no longer sitting in front of him and there were voices echoing around the room.

    Fritz cursed inwardly and quickly stuffed his golden chest into his pack, hopefully before anyone noticed. With his chest hidden away, he stood and strode around the pillar, listening to the raucous ravings of Bert. It seemed the man had made his choices far swifter than most and was distracting those who were currently awake. Fritz was grateful for his brother''s quick thinking and captivating charisma as the team''s attention was completely caught and they had none left to spare on other occurrences.

    Fritz approached, stopping before the edge of the fountain''s basin where the others gathered.

    "And this, here, is called a Dale Stone," Bert stated, holding out a quartz orb the size of his fist for all to see.

    "And what, exactly, is a Dale Stone?" Lauren asked as she rose out of her Sanctum and the fountain''s water, making her way to the edge with a golden chest in her arms.

    "A good question," Fritz said, watching inquisitively. "What have you got there?"

    Bert grinned.

 Arc 2 - Chapter 67

    Bert didn''t speak for almost six seconds, a bright burst of golden light manifested, surrounding Cal and solidifying into the shape of another gold banded chest. The man opened his eyes, they were filled with joy and eager avarice. Bert frowned, annoyed that his moment had been interrupted, apparently he''d been waiting some time for this.

    "As I was saying, this is a Dale Stone," Bert stated, again.

    Before any one could ask a thing, Rosie began to glow with pale blue light and her body began to change. Scales shifted, forming symmetrical ridges on her cheekbones, chin and jaw. Her entire forehead was covered in those same grey-blue, metallic scales up to where her hair sprouted. Those dark, knotted seaweed-like locks smoothed slightly and took on hues of deep green. Then between her shoulders and neck, her flesh split, revealing three-slitted gills on both sides.

    Her fingers elongated slightly, the nails darkened and sharpened. The backsides of her now webbed hands were covered in scales as were her arms and what they could see of her legs, leaving only her palms and parts of her face exposed with pale, blue-tinted skin.

    Rosie opened her eyes and they were dark, almost black, then she stood and stared wildly at her hands and arms. She grinned and they could see her uneven teeth had become pointed and slightly serrated, almost like a shark''s.

    She cackled, dancing in place before she noticed everyone watching. Cal''s mouth hung open and he worked his jaw as he tried to find words to match his obvious surprise.

    "Guess what power I got?" She boasted, grinning wide at all the shocked onlookers.

    "The Merfolk Strain?" Fritz asked blandly.

    "What!?" Rosie cried. "How''d you know?"

    "It''s rather... apparent," Fritz provided.

    Bert looked on annoyed at another interruption. His great reveal of his long hidden scheme wasn''t going quite to plan. Fritz had to stifle a smirk.

    "Oh, is it?" She asked before she wheeled on Lauren. "Can I borrow your mirror?"

    Lauren stared, too stunned by the woman''s transformation to speak straight away.

    "Please?" Rosie asked pitiably, shaking the woman out of her shock.

    "Yes, of course," Lauren said. "It''s in my pack, let''s go get it."

    Lauren led the way out of the fountain''s basin and towards where the bags, packs and bronze chests had been placed haphazardly, before the sudden rush to the Well. Fritz decided to join the two, setting down his pack with the rest, casually, as if there was nothing odd about him already having stored away his chest awarded for his climb.

    "Wow," Rosie whispered as she knelt and peered into the small mirror. "I look so...pretty."

    That wasn''t the word Fritz would have chosen, and judging from Lauren''s controlled expression she wouldn''t have either.

    Rosie wasn''t the same as before, she wasn''t as ugly, that much was true. Her bulging eyes complimented both her new complexion and the scaled ridges high on her cheeks. In fact, Fritz would go as far to say that the changes suited her, and although she was still no great beauty she now looked more unusual than ugly. Almost exotic in a way, especially in the right light where her scales glittered gently.

    "But I''m so shiny, and my eyes are so dark," Rosie said, sniffing quietly, then beginning to weep. They were joyful tears, he could tell, spying the motes of sparking white and yellow that swirled around her hunched-over form.

    "I''m sorry," Lauren mumbled, misjudging hope for despair. "There are ways to hide the worst of it."

    "Hide?" Rosie asked. "Why?"

    "The scales¡­" Lauren hedged, perplexed.

    "Are pretty! Look how shiny they are. I love them," Rosie stated.

    "Oh. Ohh," Lauren said, finally catching on. "Yes, they are quite nice. You could probably even polish them to make them brighter."

    "To a mirror sheen," Fritz added, smiling.

    The words made Rosie grin wider than he''d ever seen, even as tears still dripped from her eyes.

    "Ahem," Bert coughed, trying to gather their attention again. "As I was saying: this is a Dale stone."

    He held the orb of quartz aloft for all to see. The team were quiet for the moment, all waiting on his next words with expressions varying from mild interest at best to eager impatience at worst. Obviously, the others wanted to check their chests or boast about their new Powers as well, but they held their own tongues for when Bert was done with his performance. They could tell it was important to him.

    Fritz knew it was his turn to speak, and so he did, supporting his brother''s act, "And what does this beautiful bauble do?"

    He had, of course, seen the stone before, here and there, but Bert had been cagey with the sphere, secreting it away whenever Fritz drew close. He knew not where Bert had found it, even if its pale white colour seemed familiar.

    "This Stone is not just a ''beautiful bauble''," Bert scoffed. "Look!"

    Bert glowed with a pale yellow light, pulsing slowly as if in time with his heartbeat. The orb in his hand shined, illuminated into a globe of bright white. The radiance it shed was warm and brought with it an ethereal hum laced with a feeling of beginnings and new hopes. The team stared on enraptured while Dusksong vibrated within Fritz''s chest.

    The dark, cold tones called out in greeting, then in callous challenge. It cried in joy and jealousy, excitement and envy, longing and loathing. Fritz pushed it down, suppressing the song. Stifling the strange magic didn''t require as much effort as he thought it would, Dusksong soon settled into its standard subtle, nigh-silent singing. Seemingly it knew the power Bert currently exuded and reacted raucously in recognition rather than obstinate opposition.

    The shining light dissipated within moments, leaving Bert holding the pale orb. He frowned, then glanced around at the expectant faces.

    "Was that it?" Toby asked. "We already have glowstones."

    "It''s not a glowstone," Bert protested with annoyance. He mumbled something under his breath, then his face lit with an idea and he called out, "Cal, get me the salt!"

    "Why?" Cal asked.

    "Just do it, you''ll see," Bert said.

    Cal looked to Fritz for confirmation, receiving a smirking nod in return.

    The hauler rushed to his pack, placing down his own Golden chest while he searched through his things.

    "Get the pot as well!" Bert ordered.

    Cal muttered something unpleasant, but did as he asked, while the requested items were being dug out, those of the team still sitting or standing in the Well''s water left it, sloshing onto the scaled stone all around. Only Bert remained in the basin, though he did come close to the edge to take the pot and small box of salt.

    He filled the iron pot a quarter full with water, then poured all the salt in after it, much to Cal''s chagrin.

    "Hey, that''s all we have. It''ll be expensive to buy more," he whined, but Bert didn''t even give him a look as he was far too focused on the salty water.

    He placed the pot on the stone before him, then dropped the orb gently into the liquid. A sizzling sound burbled forth and the team crowded in, peering over the iron lip and trying to get a good view of what was happening. Within the pot, the quartz bubbled. Foam, thick and white poured out from the pale crystal and crept up the iron.

    Where the foam touched iron rust blossomed, quickly coating the entire interior in brown-red hues. There was a small cracking sound, like the breaking of a porcelain teapot and the orb took on a less smooth shape as its surface melted away. Bert reached into the foam without fear and took up his precious stone, looking upon it with sickening affection.

    "Look," he whispered as if trying not to wake a sleeping child, presenting the hunk of quartz on his upturned palm.

    Now the stone was was rough, had strange ridges and an odd hole on it''s bottom half. Fritz nearly hissed when he recognised it for what it was. Slimy red flesh, covered with white cracks slid out of the shell tentatively. Tiny, needled tendrils soon followed along with three stalks topped with mustard yellow orbs for eyes. The goggling stalks swayed this way and that taking in the team in their complete silence.

    "What in the abyss is that?" Lauren blurted out, incredulity warring with disgust in her tone and on her face.

    "It''s Dale," Bert said smugly, as the small salt snail wrapped an exploring tentacle around the man''s thumb. "My beast companion."

    "What?" Cal asked dumbly.

    "My beast companion, isn''t he cute?" Bert said as the creature continued to sit in his palm. Viscously.

    "It''s vile," Lauren said somewhat affronted. Bert frowned and shielded Dale from her scornful gaze with his hand.

    "It''s foul," Jane agreed.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Shh, don''t be cruel," Bert said softly, pretending at offence.

    "It''s almost a skulg," Toby observed darkly.

    "He''s not! He''s Dale, and he will be my loyal beast," Bert proclaimed, scowling slightly, though his lips twitched at the edges as he suppressed an annoying grin.

    "Really?" Fritz asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

    "Really," Bert confirmed.

    "You managed to be offered an exquisitely rare beast bond Trait and you took it. Only to use it on one of those things?" Fritz reiterated.

    He had, of course, suspected Bert of trying to get a beast companion, in fact, he was sure of it. But the fact he had found an egg of one of the rust snails had blindsided him, he felt foolish. Or would have if the idea wasn''t so stupid it didn''t bear thinking about.

    "That''s right. He''s perfect," Bert said, his big, dumb grin breaking loose.

    "Perfectly awful," Fritz said, though he only half meant it.

    "It ruined my pot," George observed, giving the snail a wary glance. "Is it some kind of rust-aligned creature?"

    "Yes, and when he grows older and stronger, he can spray salt acid," Bert said. "Just like me," he added proudly.

    "It is kinda cute," Rosie hedged, she stepped closer and held out a finger which caused the snail to retreat into its shell.

    "It''s a coward," Rosie said.

    "He''s just been born. A baby, of course he''s scared," Bert protested, patting the shell and mumbling gentle reassurances to the sticky beast.

    "You could have bonded the aberrant Eel''s egg," Fritz pointed out. "Why go with this?"

    "An eel?" Bert asked as if the thought offended him.

    "A lightning eel," Cal corrected.

    "It would drown in the open air," Bert said easily. "Can''t take it everywhere, like you can with this lil'' fella."

    "Still, there are far better beasts to bond," Lauren said.

    "None that interest me," Bert sniffed smugly.

    "What was your bonding Trait called?" Fritz enquired, accepting his brother''s odd choice but curious why his Dusksong had responded as it did.

    "Dawning Friendship," Bert said.

    "It''s not," Fritz argued, refusing to believe the man.

    "How do you know?" Bert retorted.

    "There is no way that it''s a pun," Fritz stated.

    "Fine, it''s called Dawn''s Bond," Bert responded. "But I like the other name better."

    Fritz merely nodded. It made sense now, though he should have suspected it sooner. The Trait must have evolved from his Twilight Touched Trait, gifted to him by the Dawndove after she had healed him. The memory felt like it was from an age ago and still had that dreamlike quality that made it hard to recollect any small details.

    He wondered if Bert also gained a Magic Attribute, maybe a Dawnsong that stood opposite and equal to his own Dusksong.

    His musings were interrupted when Dale crept out from its shell again and began to slowly turn, intent on sliding up Bert''s arm.

    "So it can spray acid and rust metal, what else can it do?" Cal asked "It doesn''t look very dangerous."

    "It''s also a little small," Toby noted, a hint of mocking in his tone.

    "Oh don''t worry about that," Bert said, waving away their concern smugly. "They grow to be big, very big. Isn''t that right, Fritz?"

    "Huge," Fritz confirmed.

    "Where did you find such a monster?" George asked.

    "I uh... found it. You know... lying around," Bert said. "But enough about that, look how smart he is! He already knows we''re going to be best friends."

    Dale had crawled all the way to Bert''s shoulder where it turned forward and waved its tendrils awkwardly in the air. It let out a high, happy whistle.

    Fritz was somehow reminded of a parrot, an ugly parrot. No, a horrible, hideous, parrot.

    "Awful," Jane said.

    "It''s not so bad," Fritz allowed, attempting to lend his brother some support. "I''m sure it''ll be a.. great... boon on our Climbs. They''re surprisingly tough beasts, a perfect pairing for Bert really."

    "That''s right! We''ll be indestructible together," Bert said, grinning.

    "Two peas in a pod," Fritz said.

    "Three," Bert protested. "Fritz, get over here and greet our newest crew."

    Fritz smiled and waved a hand at the creature, which, to his horror, waved back. He almost grimaced.

    "That''s not right, come shake his hand," Bert said, grinning ever wider.

    "It doesn''t have hands," Fritz noted.

    "It''s tentacle," Bert corrected.

    "Maybe later," Fritz said. "Rosie, how wonderful it is that you gained a Strain!"

    "Yes!" Rosie agreed, then she snorted. "Maybe I can become a noble lady now."

    "You''d have to be recognised by the king," Lauren stated. "Though, now that you''re...the way you are it would be easier."

    "How do I do that?" Rosie asked.

    "You''d have to do him some great favour or serve faithfully for years," Fritz supplied. "Though a gift of thousands of gold could grant you a noble title."

    "If only it were that easy," Lauren said. "If the gift only had to be gold my mother would have been a baroness decades ago."

    "Hah, I was jokin''. I don''t want to be no lady," Rosie said.

    "So, Rosie now has a Strain, Bert now has a... companion. Does anyone else have anything they''d like to share?" Fritz asked the group at large.

    "Before we go into our own secrets shouldn''t you be more clear about your own," Lauren said. "We are at the precipice, and you did say you''d explain more."

    Fritz stifled a wince, she was both right and wrong. He had promised to spill something of his secrets but not all of them.

    "Is that really relevant now?" Fritz asked, trying to put her off for the moment.

    "Yes, we followed you here, and you lied to us about your experience," Lauren argued coldly.

    "I''m not sure I lied. Not outright," Fritz said blandly.

    "Very well, not lied then. Though you weren''t honest," Lauren pressed.

    Fritz sighed. "You''re right. I wasn''t totally honest. Though it was for safety, both yours and ours."

    "Is that so?" Lauren said.

    "It is, the secret we keep is one kept quiet by the Nightshark," Fritz said, even though it felt like they''d been over this before. "It''s incredibly dangerous. Isn''t that right? Toby? Jane?"

    "He''s right," Toby stated. "We can''t even speak it." He added, pulling on his shirt and revealing a dark fang tattooed just below his collarbone.

    "What''s that?" Fritz asked at the same time as Lauren.

    "You don''t have one?" Toby asked, scowling. "You never met them?"

    "What? No. Didn''t meet who?" Fritz asked, puzzlement coursing over his mind.

    "You know who," Toby glowered. "I was wondering why you used the name so easily. You don''t even have the..."

    "The what?"

    "I can''t say," Toby said, glancing down at the black fang meaningfully.

    "Does Jane have one too?" Bert asked.

    "No," Jane said, nodding and showing off an identical mark below her shirt.

    "What does it do?" Fritz asked, not expecting an answer and receiving none from the two.

    "Cursed ink perhaps?" Lauren answered.

    Fritz nodded. "Set to activate if they talk about... secrets."

    The two were silent.

    "Why did you agree to such a thing?" Lauren asked, though Fritz thought he knew the answer.

    "Not much choice and it was a condition for our Climb," Toby said. "Meant to keep you loyal."

    "Didn''t stop you from turning on Larry, and the others," Bert pointed out.

    "Loyalty to uhh... you know. Not the whole outfit," Jane offered.

    "I don''t know exactly how such things work," Lauren said. "But the conditions to activate such a mark have to be specific. If they were too vague they would simply not work, or work right away doing...whatever they are meant to do."

    "Kill or maim. I suppose," Fritz said.

    Again the two remained silent.

    "I wonder why Nic didn''t drag us away to get marked," Bert thought aloud.

    "I think our ruse saved us," Fritz theorised. "Why waste gold branding two weakling non-Pathers?"

    "Won''t save you for long," Jane said seriously. "They''ll know you''re a Pather now."

    "And they brand the Pathers," Fritz said, finishing the sentence for her.

    Silence fell on the team, and belatedly Fritz realised they had been speaking of some fairly sensitive subjects right in front of everyone.

    "Right, if you want to know our secrets you must be prepared to never speak about them to anyone else. It''s your lives on the line as well as ours. And another oath swearing secrecy will be required."

    "I don''t want to know any more than I already do," Toby professed darkly.

    "I''m content with not knowing as well," Jane said soberly.

    "Sounds like a hassle, and I don''t really care," Rosie said with a shrug.

    George shuffled uncomfortably. "I trust you, Fritz, Bert. You may have secrets, but so does everyone. I won''t pry."

    "I''m with George," Cal said. "And I don''t want to be in on a secret the Nightshark kills for."

    That left only Lauren, who bowed her head thoughtfully.

    "I want to know," she eventually said, brow furrowed in concern and eyes alight with that ring of ember.

    "If that''s what you want then you shall have it. You deserve as much for following even when you had every reason to leave," Fritz said. "However, before we start spilling I will still need a promise from each of you regarding our Climb."

    "What kind of promise?" Cal asked tentatively.

    "Well, as we were all party to the murder of Larry and his team, we should agree to stay silent on that matter," Fritz suggested. "If that little fact were to get out we would all be in some trouble."

    "Some trouble," Toby groused. "You mean dead and drowned."

    "Some trouble indeed," Lauren agreed.

    "I think the easiest agreement we could make would be not to talk about the specifics of our Climb. Never mention the eighth Floor, or what happened there," Fritz posited.

    Toby and Jane nodded eagerly at that. They seemed to know that if it ever came out that they had betrayed their team, murdered two of them themselves, they would not be shown any mercy.

    "I got my tiles there," George said.

    "Then say you got them on the ninth," Toby said.

    George sighed, lying didn''t sit well with that man and that could be a problem.

    "Oh, and Toby, Jane, you''ll need to come up with a plausible story why you''re alive and your team are not," Fritz stated.

    Jane''s face fell and Toby grimaced.

    "Don''t worry we''ll work on something together," Bert proclaimed stepping up to the two and placing a hand on each of their shoulders reassuringly. The snail whistled. "And Dale can help."

    They nodded, giving strained smiles and eyeing the monster warily.

    "Well, before we get into any long talks, perhaps we should move on to much more exciting endeavours," Fritz said.

    "Like what?" Cal asked.

    "Like opening the chests!" Fritz ordained.

    "Oh! Right!" Cal said, a grin shattering his worried expression.

    "Let''s get to it! Three bronze chests," Bert agreed. "Bound to be full of loot!"

    The team soon hurried over to the packs and bags, lugging over their Gold Climb chests and placing them by their other things. They then gathered around the three bronze-banded Treasure chests.

    "Should these two really be getting a share of the treasure?" Cal asked. "What with all the harm they''ve caused us."

    "We helped kill the Eel," Toby argued.

    "I''ve mended your wounds," Jane added.

    "Wouldn''t have got the wounds without the spite," Cal grumbled.

    "Yes you would have," Toby said. "And it doesn''t matter. We fought, we should get a share."

    "No," Fritz said.

    "No?" Toby asked incredulously.

    "No, we suffered through the spite for the two of you," Fritz stated. "Our climb would have been far easier without you. Your reward is what you carry, your Gold Climb chests, and most importantly your lives."

    He wove a hint of Dusksong''s finality into his words, let it sink into their souls. Even with this small flex of magic, he expected them to argue, to wheedle and whine. Though that wasn''t to be, they looked at each other and something passed between them, sadness and surety soaking into those gazes.

    They turned back to the team sombrely.

    "You''re right. I''m sorry," Jane said softly. "You risked so much for us."

    "I''m sorry too. Greed was getting to our heads," Toby said, this time without a hint of falsehood in his usually sarcastic tone. "You''ve done us a great turn, one some could say we don''t deserve."

    When no one contradicted him, he coughed, then continued, "We owe each of you a great debt, our lives. If we can do anything for you on the outside, we will."

    "We will," Jane echoed.

    Normally this is when Fritz would have scoffed and would have mocked them for daring to lie so brazenly, but he could see the sincerity solidly surrounding them. The odd field almost reminded him of his barrier ring''s shield. He held his tongue, waiting for their next words.

    "Thank you," Toby finished, his face flushing slightly as they all stared at him.

    "Thank you," Jane said in hushed tones, a tear running down her scarred cheek as she looked at the ground. "You won''t regret it."

    They stood quietly and Fritz let himself accept their thanks. His grudge against them still held, heavy and cold, but something about it''s weight lessened.

    "What a good speech!" Bert proclaimed, breaking the awkward silence. "Who knew you had it in you."

    "Yes, well done," Fritz said. "And, you''re welcome," He added with the most infuriating smirk he could conjure.

    The rest of the team, nodded along and said their own versions of "You''re welcome," ranging from the humble, "It was nothing," from George to the dismissive shrug of Rosie.

    "We''ll step back as you open the chests. We''ll be over there," Toby said, pointing to one of the window-walls.

    They grabbed their things, packed their packs, and set off to sit together. Like that, whatever Spire magic had bound them all as a team for those terrible two floors dimly dissipated, cut cleanly like twine meeting a razor''s edge. Fritz only barely felt the sensation brush over him, but noticed that the others had sensed something similar, even if they knew not what they had felt.

    Once the pair were far enough away from the gathered loot, all eyes turned to the three chests.

    "Now, time for some Treasure."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 68

    "I want to open one," Rosie declared, her strange, dark eyes glinting greedily as she stared at the bronze-banded chests set upon the scaled stone.

    "I wouldn''t mind the chance to open one either," Lauren said blandly, though her casual tone belied her eager avarice.

    "Well, there are three of them. Who here hasn''t had the honour of throwing open chest?" Fritz asked.

    "Me, me, me," Rosie said.

    "I''ve opened two," George admitted.

    "When did you open a second one?" Bert asked. "Have you been Treasure hoarding?"

    "No," George denied, frowning slightly. "I had to open the silver chest when the raider was hunting us and Lauren was wounded."

    "Ah. Right," Bert said, nodding along as he recalled the event.

    "So it should be Cal, Lauren and Rosie," Fritz said.

    "Why not me?" Bert cried.

    "You can open the next one," Fritz reassured. "We''ll Climb far more than this Minor Spire. Taller, more rewarding ones."

    "Are the chests in them better?" Bert inquired, raising one golden eyebrow.

    "Yes. The Abilities, Awards, and Treasures that are granted are generally greater in power," Lauren provided.

    "Are they?" Bert asked. "Why did we bother climbing this one then?"

    "The taller the Spire the more dangerous," George stated.

    "And we don''t have the badges required. I''ve heard that they''re hard to attain," Fritz said. "Even if you don''t have to pry them from the cold, dead hands of a vicious raider. Though I can''t say that was easy either."

    "Oh, right," Bert said. "I knew that, Therima said as much."

    "Can we open the chests now?" Rosie asked impatiently.

    "Go ahead," Fritz allowed.

    The three chests were opened at nearly the same time and their multicoloured light poured, pulsed then solidified into items within the wooden confines.

    Rosie reached into her chest excitedly, shouting and nearly crying again when she pulled out a hatchet. Cal pulled a bulging sack of something, likely triads, from his own chest, hands trembling with trepidation. Lauren, however, was calm and collected in her retrieval of the objects, smiling serenely while placing down all she found into neat piles.

    ,

    "Don''t need that anymore," she muttered under her breath as she stared out over the arrayed objects.

    Her eyes began to glow dimly in soft white vibrancy that highlighted the flitting, orange embers within her irises.

    "Is that your new Trait, Lauren?" Fritz asked as she began to look over the chests'' rewards. "Is it some kind of mana sight?"

    "A good guess," she replied proudly.

    "Not much of a guess, seeing as you always use the lens," Fritz said. "You were bound to be offered a similar ability, like you were by using the flame rod."

    "You can see magic now?" Cal asked, intrigued. "Is it better than the lens?"

    A

    "That is potent," Fritz said. "Would be great for a Scout. Not sure how effective it is for a Striker though."

    Tguide, or ''shape'',

    "Oh, really?" Fritz asked.

    "Mhm," she replied distractedly as she looked over everything they had piled. "And once I do get Control it will work even better."

    "What? How does that work?" Cal asked. "I thought Advanced Attributes worked differently from the normal ones."

    Though

    though

    Among the many things they had pulled out were no fewer than six Know-notes.

    thoroughfare

    T

    and more interesting were

    "Shame that one of the chests wasn''t silver or gold," Bert complained jovially.

    "I''m not sure we''re in any position to complain," Lauren chided politely. "We found five chests this Climb, that''s plenty."

    "There''s thirty gold in each of the bags," Cal said. "If we split that it''s...uh."

    "Fifteen gold each, on top of our golden chests," Lauren stated.

    ai

    "And we haven''t even sold any of the Treasures or Sirensilk," Rosie said, her mouth slightly agape as the realisation sunk in. "We''re so rich."

    "Yes, we''ve done well," Lauren agreed, beaming. "Oh, look. The second of the pair," she added picking up a dark glove and tossing it to Fritz.

    He caught it causally and went to put on the second of the black, velvety gloves on his free left hand, but found that it was right-handed. He frowned.

    another

    immediately

    "What''s got you so gloomy?" Bert asked, having seen Fritz''s scowl.

    "They''re all right-handed," he replied, somewhat bewildered.

    Bert laughed.

    "Spire got you good," Cal said, joining in with a chuckle.

    "It''s not that funny," Fritz protested, even if he did find it rather humorous and there was a smile on his lips.

    He tucked the spare gloves into his belt, thinking they might come in handy later. His face twitched at the inadvertent pun, but he soon shrugged off his dismay and applied a Know-note to his ring, activating the card, then reading the lines as they burned into being.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Barrier Ring

    ---

    Alignment: Arcane, Force.

    ---

    Capacity: 2/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Barrier: Minor

    Block an arrow, and stymie steel, the blade''s edge, is brought to heel.

    This Treasure shields its user with a skin of force.

    Alignment: Arcane, Force.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Thirty seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    on

    - written

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Contingency Charm

    ---

    Alignment: Body, Boon, Space.

    ---

    Capacity: 0/9Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Contingency: Liquid

    Predict the danger, or deadly deed, protect from peril, in dire need.

    Store a liquid within this Treasure. Stored liquid will be instantly absorbed via skin contact reactively when the conditions you outline when storing are met.

    Alignment: Body, Boon, Space.

    Cost: Nine.

    d

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz frowned, this wasn''t an Ability effect he''d come across before. He thought he knew vaguely what it did but he wanted a second opinion. One he trusted almost as much as his own when it came to Treasures.

    "Lauren, can you take a look at this?" Fritz asked. "I''m not sure I grasp it completely."

    She looked up and he flicked the card to her. It spun through the air and fell into her lap. She took it up and read it swiftly. Her beautiful brows rose with appreciation.

    "I can see why you''d be a little confused, these sorts of Treasures are rare," she stated.

    "What''s it do? Bert asked.

    "To be succinct, you can store a liquid in it. Most notably a potion or remedy, and command it to react when certain events occur. Such as telling it to Activate ''when I fall unconscious'' or ''when I say heal me''."

    "Or maybe delivering an antidote if you''re poisoned?" Fritz asked, thinking back on the envenomed arrow that he had loosed at Jasper, and how the man hadn''t been affected as badly as he should have been.

    team''s

    "Very useful," Fritz said, tucking the charm into a pocket.

    "You could store hard liquor in it," Bert said.

    "Why?"

    Bert shrugged. "Might be fun."

    "Not at nine gold a use it won''t be," Fritz remarked, rolling his eyes. Though Bert''s suggestion was a terrible idea, it did give him some pause, perhaps the Treasure could be filled with less than beneficial substances and inflict some sort of harm.

    movedmusings

    "Must be a Technique then, lucky you," Fritz said.

    "Lucky us, you mean," Bert stated. "Having a proper cook on our Climbs will be great!

    Cal looked a little nervous at the proposition, but held the book tight anyway.

    Perhaps the man didn''t want to Climb anymore and didn''t want to say so yet. Though maybe it was something else, Fritz couldn''t see any rabid rejection in his face or in his emanations of emotion. Likely he was unsure of his place and what they would be doing after the Spire. Fritz himself didn''t know entirely, but felt he wanted to keep the group together. Without Toby and Jane, of course.

    Those two could figure their lives out on their own. He wanted nothing to do with them if he could help it.

    Fritz was distracted from his bitter thoughts by Rosie''s muttering.

    "What was that?" He asked.

    t

    "Can I see?" Fritz asked.

    Rosie shrugged and handed him the Know-note. It read:

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Ring of Allure

    ---

    Alignment: Primal, Mind.

    ---

    Capacity: 0/3

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Allure: Fish

    A compelling cry, a charming word, a curious call, and interest stirred.

    This Treasure attracts fish around you and calms their aggression.

    Alignment: Primal, Mind.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: None.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz could see why she was annoyed by the Treasure. It really was quite weak, unless you were fighting fish. And that last bit about calming aggression might have been helpful to know on the sand shark floor, perhaps it could have saved them some pain and exhaustion. Though remembering how blood-mad those beasts were, he supposed that it might have mattered little in the long run.

    removedrecollecting

    He stared at the man, he was reading a know-note, one that had presumably been used on the sleek belt in his hands.

    "What did you know?" Bert asked.

    "Just read this," Cal said smugly handing off the card.

    Fritz strode forward a couple of steps and peered over Bert''s shoulder to glimpse whatever was written that had made Cal so self-assured.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Eelkin Belt

    ---

    Alignment: Boon, Primal, Water.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Aspect of the Eel

    Slick and toothy, hides in the lake, sly and bitey, is not a snake.

    minor increase

    Alignment: Boon, Primal.

    Cost: Two.

    One Minute

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    Grow Gills

    Breathe the ocean, brave the seas, swim down deeper, and be at ease.

    You grow gills, allowing you to breathe underwater.

    Alignment: Boon, Body, Primal, Water.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: One hour.

    Refresh: None.

    ---------

    "What?" Bert asked as he finished reading the Know-note. "What were you right about?"

    "Look at the rhyme," Cal said, pointing at the glyphs and quoting, "''Is not a snake!'' See! Eels are fish."

    Bert laughed, then yelled, "Hear that, Toby!?"

    "What?" Toby replied scowling.

    "Come, look at this!" Bert said waving the know-note.

    Toby sighed and paced over to where they stood, obviously annoyed by his summons. He snatched the card and looked it over before glowering.

    "Doesn''t prove anything," Toby stated.

    "What?" Cal said. "It''s right there. ''Is not a snake.''"

    y''re

    "They have gills and scales, they''re fish," Cal protested.

    "Rosie has gills and scales, is she a fish?" Toby asked sarcastically.

    Cal seemed taken aback by the question.

    "I''m not a fish," Rosie said. "I think."

    Her brows furrowed in intense thought.

    "You''re not a fish," Fritz said. "Don''t let him confuse you, he''s just saying that because he hates being wrong."

    "I''m not wrong," Toby said. "Just cause they''re not snakes doesn''t mean they''re fish."

    "See," Fritz said.

    "Who cares!?" Lauren blurted. "We have all these Treasures and you two are still fighting over Eels? Can we focus on sorting the contents of these chests?"

    There was a pause in the argument and after some moments Cal apologised softly.

    Toby slunk away, and the team returned to the piled loot.

    The last two of the Treasures was noted, though they didn''t produce quite the stir of some of the more powerful items. Fritz looked over the two know-notes.

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Tide Rod

    ---

    Alignment: Water.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Water Bolt

    A ball of water, hurled at speeds, will match a stone, at deadly deeds.

    This Treasure releases a bolt of water.

    Alignment: Water.

    Cost: One.

    Duration: None.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    ---------

    Treasure

    ---------

    ---

    Ring of Echolocation

    ---

    Alignment: Sound, Sense.

    ---

    Capacity: 3/6

    ---

    ---------

    Abilities Imbued

    ---------

    ---

    Echolocate

    In the dark, or blackest night, a shill cry, can act as sight.

    This Treasure releases a wave of sound that will map the space around you.

    Alignment: Sound, Sense.

    Cost: Two.

    Duration: Three Seconds.

    Refresh: None.

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz could see why no one was particularly excited about the rod, but he was surprised no one had anything to say about the ring. It seemed to be a useful Treasure, though maybe it only seemed that way because he was a Scout. Though really, Fritz only had eyes for the Eelkin Belt. If Aspect of the Eel was as potent as the Aspect of the Serpent it would make him a more deadly fighter and a far harder target.

    Soon all the items were laid out, sorted and set. In the magical pile, there was a hatchet, a cooking pan, a patch of cloth, another refilling waterflask, two traveller''s packs, a pewter cup that was cold to the touch and a stone that radiated a constant, comfortable warmth.

    S

    The team spent some time merely looking over the items in quiet appreciation before Cal breached the subject they were desperate to ask.

    "So, how do we split it all?"

    "How indeed," Fritz said stroking his chin in thought. "How about we keep what we already have on us and take turns picking from the piles? We keep going until it''s all gone or no one wants anything else. Then we sell off what''s left along with the sirensilk we''re willing to part with."

    "Sound''s good, "Lauren said.

    "Might be a little unfair. Depending on the order," George said.

    "I think any method we use may have someone getting the slimy end of the skulg," Fritz mused.

    "True as the rain," Lauren agreed.

    "We''ll just have to make do. If anyone has any grievances we''ll have to talk it out once we''re done. Maybe they can get a bigger share of the gold from the materials," Fritz said.

    "Who should go first?" Cal asked.

    "Paper, scissors, rock?" George suggested.

    "No way, Fritz always wins that," Bert said.

    "I do not," Fritz protested.

    "He cheats!" Bert accused.

    "Never!" Fritz lied.

    "Perhaps the Captain should go first," George said before the bickering could break out in earnest.

    "Sound''s great," Fritz agreed, smiling wide.

    "How about we draw cards, high card wins," Cal suggested.

    "Another excellent idea," Fritz agreed.

    Everyone else quickly agreed on the card method, happy enough to leave the order to chance.

    "Toby, we need those cards!" Bert yelled.

    They waited impatiently as Toby trudged over while shuffling the deck. Then they all took a turn pulling from the cards. Fritz himself pulled the king of clovers, which turned out to be the highest card drawn.

    "Damn," Bert groused, revealing the jack of the same suit. He was only putting on his dismay, Fritz could see his hidden grin.

    The rest of the team organised themselves in order and soon they were picking through the piles.

    Fritz immediately grabbed the Eelkin belt, and as the team grumbled he bowed and stated, "Blame the cards, not I."

    "I for one think you should have it," George stated, breaking through the jeers. "It''s because of you that we''re all here. It''s because of you that we made it to the very top. It''s because of you that we''re all Golden Climbers now. You''ve led us well and you deserve it."

    The impromptu speech lulled the team into sober musings, then nodding as they eventually all agreed with his statements, and to Fritz''s great surprise and George''s embarrassment they started to clap and cheer.

    Fritz almost cried a tear of pride. He held it back and revelled in their adoration for a moment before cutting off their applause with a gesture and beginning to speak himself.

    "Though I will claim this Treasure. I won''t claim all the credit for our success."

    "Just most of it," Bert interrupted, which got a laugh.

    "That is to say," Fritz continued. "You all played a part, an integral role in our Climb''s great triumph. Yes, we struggled, but we survived, and in doing so we have gathered wealth we could only dream of. Through pain and peril, we persisted. We were hunted and hounded. We suffered far worse than we should have. The spite sought to stop us from doing the right thing, saving our fellow man."

    "And woman," Rosie said, nodding along.

    "But we, the heroes that we are, persevered, pushed through and proved our mettle. We have won, without cowardice and compromise. I''m proud to call you my team, and most of all my friends," Fritz finished, smiling wide without guile or grift.

    felt theose

    The six were a team, Fritz could see it as plain as the rain. He knew he didn''t have to order them to follow any further, he could simply ask and they would.

    He stood there basking in their respect. Before it was all ruined.

    "I get to pick next. Out of the way, Fritz," Bert said, shouldering Fritz affectionately and grabbing the Tide Rod. He held it up for all to see what he claimed, though many, including Fritz himself seemed to wonder why he had chosen what he did.

    "Why did you grab that?" Cal asked.

    "Just wanted something that can strike from range. Just in case I can''t punch it," Bert said. "Who''s next?"

    "Me!" Rosie cried, stepping forward and immediately seizing the magic hatchet.

    George was next, and he sensibly chose one of the Traveller''s packs, seeing as he had to sometimes store his armour away.

    bly

    T

    Lauren

    "That''s two things," Rosie protested.

    "They''re obviously a set," Lauren said haughtily. "You can''t separate them, it would be like splitting you and Cal up. A tragedy."

    "Huh. Okay then," Rosie said, smiling.

    Fritz was next and snatched up the small patch of magical fabric, stuffing it away in a pocket.

    Then he admired his new ring, and adjusted his slippery belt.

    Then it was just the mundane goods, there was little bickering and only a smattering of bargaining as things were swapped around and gifted to others. Soon the distribution of loot was settled, everyone getting something they desired, if not everything.

    There were some things no one wanted, such as the articles of clothing that wouldn''t fit or were "horrendously ugly" as Lauren described them, and they decided to sell them along with the sirensilk.

    the sirensilk

    "I thought we were," Lauren said. "Why shouldn''t we?"

    "Well, I know a tailor," Fritz stated. "Actually one might say I owe a tailor. Colette, A lovely lady, she made my coat if you remember it."

    "I do," Lauren said. "It was nice."

    "How could I forget," George mused.

    "I could take some of this to her and have some things made for us," Fritz said, though he also meant to gift her some of the fabulous fabric as well.

    "Is she any good?" Cal asked.

    s

    "Does she do battle robes?" Lauren asked, seemingly interested in the prospect.

    "Perhaps," Fritz said.

    "I wouldn''t mind having one nice shirt," George said thoughtfully. "Something light and smooth to wear under my armour and padding."

    "I want a dress," Rose demanded. "A pretty one that goes with my scales."

    "I''m sure that can be arranged," Fritz assured. "In fact, she might be delighted. She made dresses for my mother after all."

    "I''m all for it," Cal said.

    They all agreed and split the sirensilk into two piles, one for personal use and one for sale. Although it would cut into their potential profits none seemed to be upset about the prospect. In fact, many were more eager to wear such finery than he had expected.

    C

    "We''ll be rich on the outside," Bert professed.

    "Yeah, but what do we do after that?" Rosie asked. "Are we going to Climb again? Together?"

    "I don''t see why not," Fritz said.

    "The Mer Spire again?" Cal asked.

    "Well, not if all goes to plan," Fritz stated slyly.

    "You have a plan?"

 Arc 2 - Chapter 69

    "I''m working on the details, there''s much to do on the outside. But within some months we''ll be climbing the Rain Spire," Fritz proclaimed.

    His team, who had been eagerly listening, nodded seriously.

    "We? All of us?" Cal asked somewhat surprised.

    "Yes," Fritz said. "Do you not want to?"

    "No, I do," Cal said quickly. "I just wasn''t sure what we''d all be doing after this Climb, now that we''re you know... done... for now."

    "We''re merely done with this Spire," Fritz boasted. "The next awaits and I want you all to Climb it with me. You''ve all proven yourself brave, bold and beyond reproach."

    "What if I don''t want to climb?" Cal asked, seemingly worried about Fritz''s reaction.

    "Is that really true?" Fritz asked, meeting the man''s eyes.

    "I don''t know," Cal said, then quickly looked down and away.

    "And how are you going to procure six badges?" Lauren asked primly. No doubt in her words, but some trepidation.

    "Five," Fritz corrected. "We have one from the raider."

    "And what if his team comes to get it from you?" George asked.

    "We have a safe place to hide it for the time being," Fritz said reassuringly.

    "Months? That long?" Rosie asked, scratching at her scaly neck and wincing when one of her sharp nails accidentally caught in one of her gills.

    "Yes," Fritz said. "We''ll need some time. And as much as it pains me to admit it, we need to rest and recuperate. Bert and I also have to lay low for a while, make sure everything is settled in the gutters. And we also need to gather more gear and get new weapons and armour."

    "We also have to sell all our treasure," Lauren added. "It would be better, and more profitable, to sell it off a piece at a time. It''ll also be easier than selling it all at once, especially if you need to ''lie low'', as it were."

    "A good observation," Fritz said. "I take it we can trust you to handle most of that?"

    "Sure," Lauren said easily. "Though I''ll need some help."

    "I can help," Cal offered eagerly.

    Lauren looked like she wanted to argue, but held her tongue and nodded, acquiescing amiably.

    "And I can be your guard, make sure no one tries to rob us," Rosie stated.

    "I don''t think there will be much chance of that outside the districts," Lauren said.

    Rosie shrugged. "Gotta'' be prepared for anything. It''s rough out there."

    "It''s rough in here," Bert said. Dale warbled, drawing awkward looks from the team.

    "Don''t worry about him, he''s just hungry," Bert explained, patting the slimy snail with a finger. "I''ll get you some nice rocks of sea salt when we get out."

    "You can tell what it wants?" Fritz asked.

    "Sort of, it''s the bond," Bert said. "It''s like I can feel a shadow of its hunger."

    "A shadow of its hunger?" Fritz repeated, raising an eyebrow.

    "What? You can spout off poetry and rhymes and no one blinks an eye. But I speak a little fancy and suddenly you look at me as if I grew a second head?" Bert huffed.

    "Yes," Fritz said. "You''re a Brute, it behoves you to act like one."

    Dale whistled.

    "See, Dale agrees with me," Fritz claimed.

    "He does not," Bert grumbled. "I told you, he''s just hungry."

    "Can the snail understand us?" George asked as the beast''s three stalks goggled over him.

    "No," Bert said. "Not yet."

    "Not yet?" George asked.

    Bert shrugged. "They say it depends on the beast, and the bond-type."

    "And who is they?" Fritz asked.

    "I asked around at the sixth Well. The foreigners had seen more of beastmasters than anyone else in Rain City," Bert explained. "But I know that Dale will be a smart one, I can feel it."

    Dale warbled, shuddered slightly and touched Bert''s stubbled chin with one slippery feeler.

    He smiled at it gently.

    Fritz almost rolled his eyes, but George soon brought up an important topic.

    "Where will we stay?" He asked.

    "I''d offer you someplace at home, but I''m afraid I will no longer be welcome there," Lauren said with a sigh. "I''m possibly going to be disowned."

    "What? Why?" Cal asked.

    "I ran away to join this climb," she admitted.

    "That''s not so bad," Fritz said. "Happens all the time, even in noble families. It''s frowned upon, but it''s not such an offence. In fact, one such family might even throw a party for your successful return, especially if you come back with a Golden Climb."

    "Unfortunately, I may have taken things into the Spire that didn''t belong to me," Lauren said sheepishly. "I could be labelled a thief."

    "The rod?" Fritz guessed.

    "The rod," she agreed. "And the lens. Though that was a spare and not likely to be missed."

    "Who''d you steal the rod from?" Bert asked, grinning.

    "My family, or rather, my sister," Lauren said. "It was a betrothal gift. From that noble."

    "Who gives a Flame Rod as a betrothal gift?" Bert asked. "Not very romantic."

    "Marriage isn''t about romance," Lauren declared scathingly. "It''s about the consolidation of wealth and power."

    "Still, seems an odd gift," Bert said.

    "Well, sister dearest asked for it," Lauren explained, her voice rife with barely concealed frustration.

    "Why? Did she want to become a fire mage too?" Fritz asked.

    "No. Well, yes, but no," Lauren said.

    "What?"

    "She knew I wanted to be one. So, of course, she suddenly wants to be one too," Lauren said, as she clenched her fists and started to rant. "Then she gets to rub it in my face when she''s a Climber, well married, more pretty, more proper, and also a fire mage. All while younger than her failure of a sister. It''s always a competition with her! She won''t let me have anything! I hate her! I hate her so much!"

    Lauren''s eyes were bright with rings of flame, and Fritz thought she was about to breathe fire in her sudden fury. He was right. She spun and let loose a torrent of flame, spraying the Well. The water boiled and steamed as fire clung to its surface. The flame lingered for almost three seconds, far longer than it should have without any fuel. Fritz theorised it wasn''t quenched immediately due to their new Gold Awards.

    Lauren also seemed to notice that and she calmed herself quickly while a small smirk crawled up one side of her face.

    "Something of a sibling rivalry then?" Fritz asked.

    "No," Lauren denied vehemently. "Ever since she was born she hated me and wanted to ruin my life. The bitch."

    Fritz doubted that was the case, or at least he could never imagine such a thing. Just the thought of his brother or his sister hating him made him feel sick to his stomach.

    "Me and Cal don''t have anywhere to stay either," Rosie said into the, now awkward, lull.

    "I only have a small room, near the forge," George said.

    "We shouldn''t stay in the districts, not with all the treasure we have," Lauren stated.

    "We can rent a suite of rooms in one of the Climber Inns," Bert said. "That''s what they''re there for.

    "There''s also small estates or houses in the upper ring we could rent for a time," Fritz added thoughtfully.

    "We should try for a house," Lauren said. "While we sell off all our treasure."

    Fritz nodded, hoping he could find one close to the orphanage so he could visit his brother and sister more easily. Though he didn''t know if he would be spending much time in the Upper Ring or much time out in the open, considering the trouble he could have with the Nightshark. Still, the fleeting fantasy flashed through him.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    With those immediate matters dealt with for the moment, Fritz''s mind turned to what he was going to tell the Nightshark once they met. He knew it was inevitable that he''d be dragged before them, willingly or no, and after hearing what little Toby and Jane had to say he thought he should plan for a more courteous visit if he could help it.

    They''d have to go along and give their story, a flatly false one that could bear some scrutiny, though shouldn''t have to suffer such observations. Something believable and benign.

    "Bert, we need to come up with some convincing lies," Fritz mused.

    "What?" Bert asked.

    "Toby and Jane are walking out without their team, and we will likely walk out with them," Fritz said.

    "We should talk this over with them," Bert said, gesturing to the two. "See if they have any ideas that aren''t going to be the complicated mess that you''re likely to dream up."

    Fritz wanted to argue the characterisation, but knew it to be all too accurate. Instead, he nodded solemnly and began to stride to the isolated pair.

    Toby nodded once in greeting.

    "What do you want?" Jane asked, exhaustion grinding in her tone.

    "What are we going to tell the Nightshark and the others?" Fritz said.

    Toby shrugged.

    "I don''t know," Jane said.

    "We could say we lost our team person by person, then we waited on the sixth floor where we joined up with your team," Toby said. "We lie about how many we were and the spite."

    "No good, there were witnesses at the sixth Well," Bert said.

    "Right," Toby said, his face falling.

    "Maybe we shouldn''t all leave together. We stagger our exits," Fritz said, knowing it had worked before with Sid.

    They nodded.

    "You two will leave ahead of us. Your story should be simple, something close to the truth," Fritz said. "On the last Floor you betrayed your team by running. They were fighting some great beast, and fearing your lives you fled."

    Toby scowled and Jane''s face fell.

    "They might murder us for that," Toby growled.

    "I don''t think they would," Jane said, her features creasing in calculation. "I''m valuable. My healing is valuable. There are barely any healers in Rain City and none that aren''t already affiliated or protected. Once we''ve had our words with our ''patron'' we could seek out some better conditions."

    "They won''t let us get away," Toby grumbled, sick worry plain on his face.

    "True as the rain," Fritz agreed. Once the gangs had their hooks in you it was nigh impossible to escape.

    "Then we work for them, as we were going to anyway," Jane stated. "They can''t prove we killed them, and murdering us would be a loss upon a loss. It wouldn''t be worth it to kill us out of hand, just for some thugs."

    Jane''s skin went a little green when she realised she was talking about their own potential murders. She lowered her head, covering her face with her small, pale hands. Toby wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

    Fritz didn''t know what to say, there really was no scheme he could think of to keep them all safe, there was only deadly risk and deadlier risk. He even felt that his own secrets were likely to be pulled out of him on his meeting with the Nightshark and all he could do to protect his team and his siblings was to be honest about this Golden Climb.

    At level twenty he and Bert might prove to be too much of an asset to be thrown away, just as he assumed Jane''s healing was. Especially considering he had his Door Sense. Although he was loathe to admit he had such a protected, profitable power, he would spill that secret if it meant his or Bert''s life.

    There were too many variables, too many witnesses and conflicting stories. Their ruse may have bought them some time, but it was at the cost of credibility. The Nightshark could just believe they were too dangerous to be left alive. Though he suspected they would be given a chance to prove their worth, especially if they took the cursed fang-mark without complaint.

    After all, the Nightshark didn''t get where they were just by mindlessly murdering everyone that opposed them. There was a lot of murder, he was sure about that, but it was premeditated and precise. Always for careful consolidation rather than creating chaos, filling the gutters with guarded dread rather than senseless fear.

    They cast a shadow as ever-present as the one the clouds did.

    "We''ll have to rely on their greed then, that we''re worth more to them alive than dead," Fritz summarised.

    "I think that''s right," Jane said. "It''s by far the best angle. Anything else will make things messy."

    "You''ll have to leave all the treasure you stole from Larry''s team, it''ll give away that you had the time to rob their bodies," Fritz said.

    Toby grumbled an assent, glancing at his daggers forlornly.

    "And you need to promise to keep all the stuff you took from them hidden, if they ever turn up in the market, black or otherwise, they will know," Jane said seriously. "Don''t even try to sell them to the Jastili. You''ll be caught."

    "Why? Jastil merchants never sell out their customers. It''s just about the only thing they don''t sell. You know that," Bert said.

    "They''re watched. Out there, we all are," Toby said darkly.

    "What do you mean?" Fritz asked.

    Toby was about to speak but was interrupted.

    "Toby!" Jane hissed. "Don''t say so much."

    Toby paled, looked down to his tattoo, then sighed in relief.

    "You''re right. Have to be careful," Toby said.

    "Just how much are you allowed to say?" Fritz asked.

    They both shrugged.

    "So we can''t sell them and we have to hide them," Fritz said.

    "Exactly," Jane agreed.

    "We''ll use Cal''s Personal Pack to hide them for now," Fritz stated.

    They nodded, handing over the offending objects.

    "Now, I shouldn''t have to say this, but if you betray us we''ll tell the truth about you two. You''ll be dead. You only survive if you stay true to us," Fritz threatened.

    They both nodded, understanding their plight.

    "I need another oath," Fritz said.

    "Why? If you don''t believe us already what''s the point?" Toby groused.

    "Just do it, it will set my mind more at ease," Fritz said.

    "Fine," Toby said. "What do you want us to swear to?"

    "Swear that you won''t betray us or spread our secrets," Fritz ordered, lacing his voice with Dusksong''s coldest tones.

    "I promise to keep your secrets and not break your trust," Toby said while Jane echoed the same words with the same sincerity. Those invisible, barbed bonds of their former oath tightened as this new one was added. For a moment, Fritz could see the ethereal weight of their promise press upon their spirits, then it was gone.

    "That it?" Toby asked.

    "That''s it," Fritz allowed.

    "We''ll leave after we''ve slept," Toby said. "No use facing tomorrow dead tired."

    "You''ll leave after us, a couple of days after tomorrow. If you can," Fritz said.

    "Why?" Toby asked.

    "For some reason, it feels right," Fritz explained. "It might be Awareness."

    Toby huffed but didn''t argue. It wouldn''t matter much who was out first, they''d face the Nightshark separately and Fritz would rather his story was the first told.

    "Also I need food for Dale," Bert stated. Dale burbled and waved its feelers.

    "Ah, of course,"Jane replied with a yawn. "If I''m asleep wake me before you go, I want to say farewell to Lauren. She''s been good to me."

    "You all have really," she said, her eyelids drooping and her voice losing most of its vigour. "Thank you, again."

    Fritz said nothing, he turned and Bert followed him back to their team where they''d draw up their other plans.

    He handed the two incriminating daggers to Cal, and along with all the other treasures and loot they had taken from Larry''s team, had him store them in his Personal pack.

    "I''m glad I took the Evolution that increased my Ability''s size threefold," Cal piped up cheerily.

    "Very useful," Fritz agreed enviously.

    "Won''t that start to get heavy?" Bert asked.

    "Yeah, but it''s not so bad. I have been aligning points to Momentum and Strength which helps. And I got a Trait that increases my ''maximum stamina'' whatever that means."

    "An interesting effect," Fritz said, trying to wend his tired mind around the implications of such a Trait.

    "Yep," Cal grinned. "Soon enough I''ll never have to sleep."

    "That sounds like an agony," Bert said with a yawn.

    Cal shrugged. "Gives me more time in the day to do things."

    "What kind of things?" Bert asked suggestively.

    "Like cooking, like relaxing, like... uh... anything I want, really," Cal said.

    "Wonderful," Fritz said, wandering over to his pack and taking out his bedroll. He thought he should get some rest in as well.

    "Fritz," Lauren called.

    "Hmm?" He absently answered.

    The striking woman strode up to him and said, "Secrets."

    "Oh. Yes. Can it wait?" Fritz entreated.

    "I''ve waited long enough, don''t you think?" She stated, arching an eyebrow.

    "Not a word, Bert," Fritz said, cutting off his friend''s impending, inappropriate joke.

    "I wasn''t going to say anything," Bert said innocently. "Whatever you thought came from your very own mischief-making mind."

    "Uh huh," Fritz said.

    Dale gurgled horribly.

    "Let''s discuss this away from prying ears," Lauren suggested, then whispered, "and vile snails."

    "Very well, lead the way milady," Fritz said, straightening. "Bert, do you want to join?"

    "Nah, you tell her what you want," Bert said without concern.

    Fritz shrugged then smiled to Lauren, gesturing for her to start walking.

    Lauren returned the smile, though it was strained and turned, walking away with a quick purposeful gait.

    Fritz followed and soon they were tucked away behind a pillar. Fritz sat and Lauren joined him on the hard, scaly stone.

    "Should have brought a pillow," Fritz complained.

    "Maybe, though that could make you too comfortable," Lauren said.

    "Nothing wrong with a little comfort, or a lot of comfort, for that matter," Fritz said.

    "Perhaps," she agreed. "Though I don''t want you to fall asleep in the middle of our conversation."

    "Very well," Fritz allowed. "What did you want to ask me?"

    "What level are you really?" Lauren asked.

    "Twenty," Fritz said.

    "How many Spires have you climbed?"

    "Two."

    "Both Golden Climbs?"

    Fritz nodded.

    Lauren brought her thumb to her lips and bit it lightly while she thought.

    "There''s another Spire in this city?" She asked.

    Fritz nodded again.

    "Something like that is hard to keep secret, impossible even," Lauren stated. "How could there be a secret Spire?"

    "That, I don''t know," Fritz admitted. "A reign of terror can keep the commoners quiet, mostly. Though, really, the more I think on it, I find it''s likely there''s someone else working with the Nightshark behind closed doors. Someone powerful and connected, somehow keeping it from the king. Or maybe his majesty simply feigns ignorance of it."

    "Interesting theories," Lauren mused. "Though not something we can figure out right now."

    Fritz nodded.

    "Will you tell me of your Climb?" Lauren asked.

    Fritz smiled, then he told her the tale. He told her of the Sunken Spire''s location in the tunnels under Rain City, then he told her of its strange alignment, treacherous Floors and odd monsters. He told her a little of Sid, though he didn''t mention her by name, and she teased him, saying he had the stupidest smile on his face as he talked about her.

    He took the jest in stride, and eventually, he spun into his story''s end, speaking about how they had slain the Hound, claimed their Awards, fooled Nic, and secured their fortune in a hidden vault.

    "Then, we found all of you," Fritz espoused. "And you know the rest from there unless that lighting bolt scrambled your mind."

    "My mind is perfectly fine," Lauren professed. "Not something I can say about you, and Bert, and this mysterious woman."

    Fritz smirked.

    "Not that I''m judging, mind you. You were in a hard place, between the tide and the storm," she added gently. "Though you really have made things complicated"

    "It''s the world that''s complicated. I''m simply trying to survive," Fritz opined.

    "You say that, but I''m not sure I believe you," Lauren said, smiling. "If you were simply trying to survive you wouldn''t push so hard to get powerful."

    "You''re right, of course," Fritz agreed, though he wanted to refute the accusation. "I do want something more than just survival."

    "And what is that?" Lauren asked.

    "Something better," Fritz said.

    They sat in silence for a minute, thinking their own thoughts.

    "Now knowing the depths of my deceptions are you still willing to climb with us?" Fritz asked.

    Lauren gave the question some more consideration, then she smiled, bright and beautiful, eyes blazing with a ring of fire.

    "Yes," she said.

    And so it was.

    Fritz stood, offered a hand to the woman, which she took easily. They returned to the team and Fritz thought it the best time to talk to each of them, one on one, discover their intentions and reaffirm their oaths.

    George was easy to talk to, his response was as straightforward and solid as the man himself.

    "I''ll follow you. Until you give great reason not to," he stated. Fritz patted the man''s powerful shoulder and left him to his tasks, confident that George would keep to his word and stay silent on the secrets.

    Rosie was next, and he found her surprisingly eager to go along with whatever he had planned.

    "You helped me a lot. And when it was dangerous you didn''t abandon us, coulda'' left us as bait three-hundred times. But you didn''t. You''re alright, Fritz. I''m glad to join your crew forever."

    "It needn''t be forever," Fritz protested, but when Rosie shook her scaled head he stopped and let her speak further.

    "You''ve done me more than one good turn, more than anyone but Cal has," she said. "Ain''t nothin'' wrong with forever."

    Fritz''s eyes began to water at the words, struck as he was by her absolute trust. He discovered that he''d become fond of the strange, off-putting woman and that he considered her a friend. He stifled his tears and smiled, which she returned with a grin and then ended with an awkward hug.

    Cal was the last Fritz had to speak to, and the one he considered the most difficult. They had their problems, their arguments, and those small threats of murder between them. Although it seemed much of what had transpired lay forgotten and forgiven. Apparently, it was hard to hate the man who had raised you from the gutters and showered you with wealth, Treasures and powers beyond your wildest dreams.

    Cal''s agreement to climb with them further was less emphatic than the others in the team, though that wasn''t to say that he wasn''t eager.

    "I''ve gained so much here. And you didn''t lie about making us rich and strong," Cal mused. "We survived impossible odds together. But you did threaten to kill me."

    "For that, I''m sorry. In my defence, at the time, we were under some stress. What with the raider hunting us in his mad game. I was as worried as you were," Fritz said sombrely.

    "I know that now," Cal said sadly."But it wasn''t the first time I''ve been threatened. Not even the first time this week," he added in a lighter tone, trying to play off his lingering hurt.

    "It won''t happen again, Cal," Fritz said seriously.

    "The words or the raider hunting us?" Cal asked wryly.

    "The words, I can''t promise anything about raiders," Fritz smirked.

    Cal laughed, but the sound soon subsided.

    "I''ll follow you," he said simply, but not without thought.

    With that Fritz stood and looked over his team, scattered around as they were. Talking, counting coins, resting or reading. For a split second, he could see again those bonds that bound them, stronger and tighter than ever. The densest and most potent of which were wending their way to Bert.

    Fritz strode over to his brother and sat beside him as he played with his snail beast.

    "We''ll need to get Dale some salt soon," Bert said, not even looking at Fritz.

    "We will," Fritz said. "I think we''re all set to leave tomorrow, then we''ll have Toby and Jane leave a couple of days after us. Just as planned."

    Bert nodded.

    "Aren''t you going to ask me if I''m going to follow you too?'' Bert asked blandly.

    "You don''t follow me, we walk together."

 Arc 2 - Chapter 70

    Biki perched high upon his favourite ledge. He watched the alley. He watched the door. That was his task. It was very important. He fluttered his lovely, dark feathers and stretched his wings. They didn''t hurt anymore. Which was good. Those bad, mean walkers had been rough with him.

    They had wrapped him up and stolen him! But then they fed him fish and let him go. He tried to fly to master, but the winds were bad that day and his wing hurt and wouldn''t work. He was meant to tell Master that walkers had gone into the door. Lots of walkers. More than three. But their faces were cloudy now. All of them except for the one with the orange feathers on its head.

    That one came clearly, but he wouldn''t tell Master about that one. That one didn''t go into the door anymore. That one gave him fish every day!

    Yummy, yummy fish!

    Biki loved fish. But Biki also loved Master. Master had given Biki the smarts and a task. Master had made him better than the other sky lords and had promised a mate. But Biki also loved fish.

    Something bubbled in his breast and Biki cried out into the rain. It was high and sharp. His call was perfect. No cry answered. He shuffled from foot to foot. He was mad and sad at the same time. He didn''t know why.

    Down the stone alley, there was movement. A walker, it was running. It tripped and fell. It got up again and looked behind it. It was scared. It ran some more. The wind changed, something whistled, and the walker fell. Blood poured from its back where there was now a stick pointing out of it. The walker yelled. It was harsh and ugly.

    The fallen one crawled. It reached up with its not-legs and touched the door.

    Another walker walked down the alley. It had red feathers around its neck and a big stick with a string. Was the stick one of the sticks the walkers used for catching fish? Biki loved fish. But no, it wasn''t one of those sticks. He figured that out because the red-plumed walker put another small stick to the string then the small stick soared like a sky lord. Into the fallen walker''s leg. The big stick wasn''t for catching fish. But for catching walkers.

    Biki had learned something today.

    "You can''t do this to me!" The walker yelled. The other closed in.

    Biki knew some words but not all of them. He listened anyway. Maybe he could learn more and become smarter.

    "I can do what I want to you, when I want to," the red-marked walker said as it got closer to the fallen one. This walker''s voice was nicer than the other''s. It was still rough on the outside but underneath it was smooth and sweet. The walker also had blue eyes, just like Biki. Very pretty.

    "No, don''t! Please I''ll do anythin'' you ask, don''t kill me!" The fallen one wailed.

    "Not much ''fun'' when you''re on the other end, huh?" The walker warned. It put down its stick and pulled out a shiny talon. It waved the sharp edge in the fallen''s face.

    "Please. No. I ain''t done nothin'' to you," it coughed.

    "It''s not about me."

    The wind changed again and the red walker plunged its talon into the fallen''s breast. It was fast! There was blood! Lots of blood! Spraying all over!

    The rain washed it away into the streams.

    Biki shuffled his feathers and puffed up his breast. He let out a cry. The red-marked walker spun.

    Their alike eyes locked.

    The walker hissed out its breath and it shrank. "Bloody bird. Almost scared the piss out of me."

    It looked up again at Biki and bared its teeth. "No squawking, you hear."

    Its chest rumbled and its mouth grew wider as it made a strange noise.

    "Ha ha ha."

    The sound cut off when the walker looked down at the fallen one again.

    Biki had a task. Someone without the brown over-skin had touched the door. He hadn''t gone into it, but Master might give Biki fish if they were happy with him.

    Biki let out a cry. This one was to signal his flight. To warn the other flyers to stay out of his way. He opened his wings and took to the sky.

    He flew on the wet wind. Soaring was so fun and the sky was his home. He loved it.

    Biki forgot he had a task, but remembered it before he circled back to his favourite ledge. He flew into the high area and to Master''s nest. It was big and made of stone. It had a pretty dark blue roof. He swooped into the open window and onto a perch made just for him. He gripped the soft wood with his talons and small flakes fell off it.

    Biki cried out his perfect call. Then he waited.

    The wind was changing outside. He ruffled his feathers and kept waiting.

    It was a long time before Master appeared.

    "Hello, Biki," Master greeted, its voice so smooth, low and sweet.

    Biki looked at Master. They were a smaller walker, covered in a not-skin of shiny red. They had dark scales like a fish. But they weren''t a fish, they could walk, but they had neck lines like a fish. Where they had no scales they were pale-skinned, and they had long wavy black feathers growing from their head. Master''s eyes were deep red and dangerous.

    "Have you seen something?" Master asked, and he knew exactly what they were asking. It was easy to understand the words when Master spoke them.

    Biki puffed out his breast and chirped. "Yes!" He was very proud of being able to speak this word.

    Master''s small talons caressed him and scratched his head. Just where he loved it. He chirped again. It wasn''t a word, but it meant, "I love you."

    A soft light glowed, and all feeling went fuzzy, everything was blurry. It felt so good.

    "What did you see, Biki?"

    Biki remembered and he could see the walker with the red feathers hunting the other walker. It all happened again, right in front of his eyes and it looked just the same as before. Then it stopped.

    Master didn''t bare its long fangs. Not this time. And Biki was afraid that Master was mad at him. And that he wouldn''t get fish.

    ''There, there. I''m not displeased with you," Masted said softly.

    Master was scratching his head again with its talons. Very good.

    "You''ve earned a treat."

    Out of nowhere, there was a fish in master''s glittering talons. A red one that he had never seen before.

    Biki chirped and took his treat in his mouth. It tasted very good. He ate it.

    Yum. Yum. Yum.

    He loved Master.

    He loved fish.

    ---

    "On your way. Back to your post," the Nightshark said. Shooing Beaky with a ring-encrusted hand.

    The bonded bird levelled its lighting blue eye on her and the Nightshark could feel the love it sent through their link. She smiled, even if the news Beaky brought was troublesome you couldn''t blame the bird. It was merely the messenger.

    The stormhawk shuffled its beautiful black-blue feathers and chirped, begging for another fish.

    She obliged, summoning another one from her ring, then giving him the exotic ruby herring. They were a delicacy from Portus-hai and too oily and pungent for her taste, even when cooked by the best of chefs. She had been gifted a great number of them and she would have disposed of them if not for her bonded beasts'' love of them.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "Go on," she chided gently as Beaky gulped down the herring. He chirped again, he really was greedy. If only all her subordinates were so simple.

    She frowned and the bird shuffled on its silvery, taloned feet. When he realised he wasn''t getting any more treats he took to the sky, his dark form quickly lost in the rain.

    The Nightshark turned and left the perch room. She made her way to one of the lounges, one without distractions. She needed to make sense of the raucous recollections she had just pulled from Beaky''s brain with her Share Memory Ability.

    As she sorted the bird''s blurry thoughts, and what it had seen and heard. She considered assigning more of her power to the stormhawk, improving its Memory and Focus, but she couldn''t truly spare it, as her other bonds were far more important to keep keen and clever.

    She strode through the rich, mana-lantern-lit hallways of her estate, past rooms entertaining nobles and merchants alike, plying them with wine and women, or mead and men, according to their tastes.

    She must have been scowling because one of the estate''s guards, in the presence of guard captain no less, asked, "Is something wrong, milady?"

    The impertinence. He wasn''t one of her thugs and should know far better than to presume her mood, much less comment on it. He hadn''t even used her proper title.

    She spun, her arm slid through the air and in less than a heartbeat her hand was around his neck, sharp nails pierced skin and stopped, resting just above an artery. Even though the man was a Pather, he was nowhere near quick enough to react to her overwhelming Agility.

    When he struggled, foolishly, she merely gripped a little tighter, the tips of her nails pressing deeper. He paled as she held his life in her fingers. She could tear through his throat as easily as paper, and if he were one of the rats she dealt with daily she would have. A trickle of blood dripped down the guard''s neck. She could feel the rapid beat of his pulse pound like a great drum through her supernaturally sensitive fingertips.

    "Captain Tarn, dismiss this... man," she said, taking her hand away. She had thought better of slaughtering the guard right then and there. His blood would stain the soft, green rug they stood on. It would be a waste of wool. "Make sure I never see him again."

    "Yes, your grace," her Captain said.

    He was an older man, in his late fifties, his stride was youthful and his back was as straight as an arrow. He wore the finest rainsteel full-plate armour gold could buy and was armed with some powerful Treasures that The Nightshark had either bought or found in her past Climbs. The Captain took the impertinent guard by the elbow and began to escort him away. He didn''t fight.

    "Oh, and fetch a servant, preferably a butler," she ordered. "I will take some tea in the blue lounge."

    "Yes, your grace," Tarn replied, offering a respectful tilt of the head as he pulled his captive away.

    She only watched for a moment as their heavy boots thudded down the hallway. Absently she considered getting her loyal, unquestioning captain another elixir of rejuvenating vitality. She was due for one too, she was looking on the edge of thirty again. About the age when she had been returned to Rain City and taken her place as head of her house after a bout of ''wasting sickness'' had killed her father and his wife, then ravaged what was left of her half-siblings.

    No magic, remedy, Treasure or potion had worked on that quick, pernicious disease and soon she had been the only one left of her line, and a Journeyman Climber on the cusp of Expert at that. The fortune, the prestige, were all hers, as was her right. She had ruled her house''s affairs now for fifty years, and the gutters for forty-seven.

    So many prosperous years of butchery, brutality and blood. Yes, she would need more of that life-prolonging, youth-restoring elixir, no matter the cost. She still had a city to rule.

    The Nightshark took her time striding to the blue lounge, named as such due to its colour scheme. Blue fabrics, silk and paintings of the oceans and isles decorated the room in casual opulence, as was her preference. She sat upon the luxurious couch and began to sort through the hazy memories she had collected from her watcher, Beaky.

    The clearest were those of a thug she recognised all too well, one of this generation''s rising powers, the first Golden Climber of the Sunken Spire in thirty-three years. And the ''boy'' had done it all himself.

    That Sid had all the makings of a deadly assassin, he didn''t flinch at death, was some kind of prodigy with the bow, and had some potent Wind powers that would only grow as he Climbed higher. With that, he also had a heart of stone carved from struggle, a willingness to serve, and a protective streak born of grim hope.

    While that youthful weakness may get him into some trouble it would prove a simple lever to control him with. She''d let him gather his wards, those young rats he sheltered in the square he claimed as his own down in the desperate district. Through him, she could recruit those thugs to her own cause. There was the problem that they would be loyal to him, but that could be easily remedied with enough gold, the pleasures of her harem and a choice couple of alchemical tonics and powders.

    They were rats after all, and rats ate and cavorted when they could, forgetting their original allegiances.

    Sid could be a sure threat to any of her foes and a deadly deterrent to those who might cross The Nightshark. An arrow buoyed on magic winds could strike any in the open, the threat of which would blanket the districts in terror. Every miscreant gang would view the sky with fear because the Nightshark would own it.

    But first, she''d need to handle Sid.

    She''d known, of course, about his little crusade against the least savoury of their criminal kind. A gang of rapists murdered here or there were no scales off her nose. In fact, she''d been meaning to clean up a few of those crews for some time. It always just slipped her mind, also it would be a lot of hassle and no matter the image of the all-seeing shadow she cultivated, she was not in fact all-seeing. She merely saw a lot, knew a lot, and heard what needed to heard.

    The Nightshark had thought the ''boy'' would soon burn himself out, have his fill of blood and be done with it. It seemed that was not the case. She''d have to have a talk with him, punish him and reign him in. And if he didn''t bend, she would break him.

    There was another strangely clear face in Beaky''s memories. For some reason, there was much affection tied to this recollection, and the Nightshark could see why. The visage was that of a lovely young woman with delectably smooth, pale skin and fiery red hair. Yes, she should invite that young lady to meet her as well.

    Tea was served by one of her butlers, he had scars on his knuckles, was a poor pourer and as graceful as a bull. But my, was he handsome. She knew he was chiselled and well-muscled under his black coat, he was one of those thugs that had risen through the ranks and now served her personally, in her harem and out. Maybe she''d have him join her and this new girl. Or maybe she should just have him now.

    She watched him for a moment, then dismissed the thought. Business first then pleasure. She waved him away, took her tea, had some delectable biscuits and called one of her closer bonds, pulsing her intent through the threads that bound them.

    Something swooped in through the open window and a scaled pigeon landed beside her, hopping from one foot to the other, eager to serve.

    "Hello, Oscar," she said to the cooing, grey bird.

    Feelings and thoughts came clear through this more potent bond. Absently she scratched his head, though not too hard, her nails were as sharp as razors. Then she took up paper and quill and quickly conveyed her commands with precise strokes, adding a perfect sketch of the lovely face she had seen in Beaky''s memories.

    She was done within a minute, slipped the paper into a waterproofed envelope and sealed it with the wax emblazoned with the black fang of The Nightshark.

    "Straight to Nic," she said. Though she needn''t have, Oscar knew already through their link.

    Oscar flew out the window and her eyes wandered to the door the handsome butler was standing behind. She could hear the thud of his heart and the soft exhale of breath through the wood.

    She had some time before she had to attend to business. She unbuttoned the top of her red, silken dress.

    "Servant, attend me."

    ---

    Sid stalked through the alley, soaked to the bone and shivering. She had left the body behind, but not before scoring the arrow holes with her blade to obscure the wound''s original shape. They would be too telling to leave as they were and she didn''t want to be caught. Not yet.

    Sid knew she would be, eventually, but she would have made her mark on the gutters, delivered her warning to the vile beasts that prowled the districts. It had been satisfying seeing her foes so fearful. They were getting jumpy, looking over their shoulders, not turning their backs lest the ''Scarlet Storm'' slash them to pieces.

    She tugged on the ragged, red wool of her scarf. The rumours were a double edged sword. Sure they had the gangs fearful, but anyone with half a brain could put the pieces together if they just took a look at her scarf. Sid couldn''t bear to part with it, and anyone who had made an accusation violently had been repaid in kind.

    She took as much pleasure as she could in her cause, but killing was a cold calling and even that contentment that came after her vengeance, righteous as it was, faded. The slaughter was starting to weary her.

    How many more would she have to kill? Why couldn''t they just stop their evil? She knew living in these gutters were a struggle, especially to the poorest and the weakest. But when you were strong or rich, was it really so hard to be good?

    Head full of bitter thoughts and chest churning with countless grudges, she made her way towards her tenement. Or tenements, she should say.

    The Nightshark had gifted her an entire block for her own use. It was a refuge of sorts, or at least it was becoming known to be one in the week she''d claimed control of the territory. The other gangs knew not to cross the borders, but they lingered close, picking at the edges and catching the abused runaways from the brothels or the other brutal work.

    Cold fury burned in her chest when she thought of those thugs lurking around her land and denying those who sought sanctuary. She longed to break their petty siege, but murdering them so close to her territory, when they weren''t technically breaking any of the gutter''s ''rules'' would bring down the Nightshark''s ire. And she couldn''t afford that.

    It was another case entirely if any of the gangs stepped into her demesne, as one Jolly Joe had found out just earlier that week. He''d come strolling in with eight of his men, demanding to see the new gang boss who''d been sheltering his lost whores and child thieves. He had stood in the open square, and Sid had appeared before him, standing across from him and his men, bow held lazily to one side.

    "I''m sure it''s a misunderstanding," he had yelled, smiling through one long scar down his face. "But you have my property and I wish it returned."

    "No. Leave," she had warned him.

    "I ain''t askin''," he''d warned back, that smile dropping like a stone. "One last chance, upstart."

    Sid set an arrow to her bow and the man had scoffed. He was at least a Pather, and his followers were likely a mixture of Levelers or Pathers as well. Obviously, he thought he had the upper hand.

    "There''s no need for that, just hand them over and we won''t be too rough on them," he had said.

    When she didn''t reply, he scowled and signalled to his crew.

    "Boys, get hi-" his words were punctured by an arrow''s flight, as was his lung. A hole half the size of his fist had been torn right through his chest, and belatedly he''d activated a barrier ring before falling to his knees.

    Then the man to Joe''s right was struck, an arrow passing cleanly through his neck as he charged.

    Sid had thrown her bow down and drawn a shortsword as the remaining men had charged her and quickly closed in. One had some sort of Ability that let him leap, unfortunately, he leapt right onto her wind-wreathed blade.

    With her shortsword stuck in the man the others surrounded her, with weapons covered in water or fist''s or clubs made of stone. A boom of thunder rang out, flinging the men around her off their feet and off her blade. She leapt onto one of the sprawling thugs, plunging her sword into a throat before he could recover from the blast.

    With an activation of her goblin ring, and a shout of, "Stay!" Another of the men was struck still as if bound in chains.

    From there it was a blur of rain and red. Of the seven that had charged her six lay dead at her feet with terrible, gaping wounds and the last one left had fled with minor injuries.

    Sid could have pursued or picked them off with her bow, but she needed them to tell the tale of what happened here. That the ''upstart'' was not to be messed with. Nine men, all Levelers, some Pathers repelled by one man, who didn''t take even a scratch from the fight.

    That last part wasn''t exactly true, one of the Pathers had slashed her along her chest and ribs, just under her left breast. She''d been caught with a knife that had been shadowed with something like Gloom Strike. But no one was left to see it by that point, save the dead man himself, and she had hidden the blood quickly.

    After being stripped of its coin and Treasure, Joe''s body was thrown in one of the gutters, face up so all knew his fate by the end of the day, adding to the rumours.

    Shaking off the memories, Sid passed by the lurking thugs on the outskirts of her territory. They gave her a wide berth, scowling and spitting to the side as she strode confidently down the cobblestone street. She returned their glares, but none could hold her eyes for long and none would challenge her. Cowards.

    She soon strode into the square and into the tenement she called home, for now. She could hear the chattering of conversation, children running down the creaking hallways, laughing and screaming while they played. She could smell food being cooked, squid stew and fried rat. A woman with a swollen face and a black eye offered her a skewer of mysterious meat as she passed by.

    Sid was starving, so she took it gratefully, grumbling a thanks, then biting into the hot, greasy chunks. They were stringy but filling. She took the stairs up to the sixth floor, the highest of this structure and the buildings surrounding it and entered her damp, dreary room.

    Sid scanned the dark, dank corners and found nothing amiss, so she lay down on a makeshift bed of rags. She used her cloak as a blanket, and within moments she was asleep.

    Sid was woken up what felt like minutes later, but the sun had set so it must have been at least a couple of hours.

    "Sid," a small voice said.

    "Mister Sid," the voice said again as she stirred.

    There was a young boy with sandy hair, he was dressed in rags and couldn''t be past his second Toll. Sid checked her pocket to make sure she wasn''t robbed while she slept. Her goblin ring and her triad pouch were still there.

    "What?" Sid said, and her tone was harsh.

    The child winced, afraid of a punch that wasn''t coming.

    "What?" Sid said, more softly.

    "There''s a man looking for you," he said. "He''s standing in the square."

    Sid nodded and grasped her bow, then crawled to the window. She pushed the wooden slats open an inch and peered out and down to a man in a brown coat. Her stomach fell. She would recognise that hunched figure and scarred face anywhere. Jagged Nic.

    Had she been discovered? Was he here to harm her or scold her?

    For a moment, she wondered if she could simply strike him down with an arrow. She soon dismissed the idea. It would be like declaring war on the entire gutter. More so than she had already had. No, she needed to see what he wanted. She let out a groan and stood.

    "Are you okay, Sid?" A young woman asked, having joined the boy by the door and laid her hand on his small shoulder.

    "I''m fine."

    They looked scared.

    "We''ll all be fine. I''ll protect you."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 1

    Fritz awoke from his nightmares, it was a rough way to wake, but it could have been worse. He was lying on his bedroll, wrapped in a spare sheet of sirensilk scavenged from a previous floor. He let out a sigh. His back ached. The padding of his bedroll, while tough, couldn''t protect him from the worst of the scaled stone''s cold ridges.

    He decided not to dwell on it too much or groan groggily as Bert did in the distance. His blood-brother tossed and turned, his golden hair flopping this way and that. It got in his drooling mouth and covered his nose, he spat it out and tossed some more.

    Fritz''s own dark locks were dangling into his purple and green eyes, he''d have to see to it that he got a haircut once they left the Spire.

    Left the Spire?

    Fritz shook his head, willing his foggy brain to clear. He took a sip from his re-filling flask, and let the cool water wet his dry mouth. He searched the Precipice Well Room and saw his team splayed out around him. Lauren, George, Cal and Rosie. All sleeping as deeply as the dead. Then they were the other two, Toby and Jane, huddled together by one of the clear walls. No longer a part of the team.

    It was good to see them still there, it meant that they were likely to follow his plan for them.

    So many plans, he complained inwardly as he stared out the window-walls and over the sprawling Rain City. He stood, yawned and stretched, then he strode to the edge of the room to see more fully from this rainy vantage.

    The Mer Spire, which they had conquered and now dallied in the Precipice of, stood on the western side of the island. Opposite it, in the east, was the taller, more imposing Rain Spire, from which the city got its name. The two Spires were Rain City''s tallest peaks, and from where Fritz looked he could see the sprawling gutters, streets and structures. He could even see over three circular walls that separated The Districts, The Upper Ring and The Palace Ring.

    Fritz had heard that the Palace was closer to the Rain Spire than the Mer, but he hadn''t known just how unsymmetrical the city looked from above.

    A lot of the wealth was concentrated in the Palace Ring, but it was lopsided, with the most opulent estates collected in the east and the palace itself no more than a mile away from the walls that enclosed the Rain Spire. The palace and many of the estates were below water. Not because they were abandoned and ruined, but because they were inhabited by the Merfolk nobility, or the true nobility as many of the ''only'' human nobility would whisper behind scaly backs.

    The palace''s largest tower peeked above the veritable lake it resided in, the rest of the finely carved, stone structure lay beneath. That white tower was tipped with silver, and its large doors allowed entry to or egress from the unflooded halls and rooms for those unsuited to the deeper depths. Guests from afar, or those humans that had business with the king would be allowed to stay here until his majesty granted them an audience.

    The palace could be raised out from its lake, but it was seldom done. Only rare or auspicious occasions would merit such a monumental task and the gold that would be required for its enchantments to activate.

    And the king was loathe to part with his coin.

    Fritz had only seen the raising once in his lifetime, and he was lucky. In fact, he was luckier than most in that regard, he''d walked the white halls of the palace when he was young and didn''t quite understand the significance. Most of what he remembered was bright and brilliant, stifling in its pristine beauty and overbearing awe.

    Tearing his eyes away from the tower, Fritz turned to the Upper Ring and its many markets and manors. Here was where the well-to-do lived, sandwiched between the palace ring and the districts, surrounded by the two circular walls that separated them from both their lessers and their betters.

    Nine great gutters ran through the Upper Ring into the Districts, corralling the overflowing water from the ever-present rain in gurgling streams and rivers that eventually flowed out into the sea. There were boats on these outlets, of course, carrying goods and people when the wet streets wouldn''t suffice.

    And then there were the Districts in the Sunken Ring, nine of them all with their respective roles. He could vaguely see the flooded plains of the three food Districts that farmed fish, wet-wheat and vegetables. There was also the cloud of steam that marked the District of the same name. It was harder to make out the rest in the rain, but the one that was downing, desperate, still stood out to him. Sid was down there somewhere, doing whatever it was she was doing.

    He hoped she was safe.

    "What''s, got you so sulky?" Bert asked.

    "Hmm, nothing much," Fritz said wistfully.

    "Better not be your lady love," Bert said, putting on a disgusted face as amusement danced in his amber eyes.

    "It is," Fritz admitted, smiling.

    They stood there peering over the city.

    "It all seems small from up here," Bert said.

    "It is," Fritz said.

    Bert glanced to Fritz one inquisitive eyebrow raised.

    "Rain City is merely the beginning for us," Fritz said.

    "Level twenty and already too big for Rain City," Bert said, grinning.

    "We were too big for Rain City as soon as we were born," Fritz proclaimed proudly.

    Bert laughed at that. "True as the rain!"

    "In all seriousness, now we''re level twenty we''re are some of the strongest people in the Districts," Fritz said more soberly. "We''re likely to be more powerful than most of the storm guard as well."

    "Are we?" Bert said. "Don''t the drizzlers climb both the Spires?"

    "No, that''s reserved for the king''s Scale Guard I believe. Though the Captain of the storm guard might be an outlier in that respect," Fritz said.

    "Makes sense," Bert said.

    "That''s not to say we can go flaunting our power," Fritz warned. "There are still the noble''s Climbing teams and Cephers from beyond the seas. And, well, we still have to lay low lest we attract too much attention from The Nightshark."

    Bert grumbled in agreement, and the rust snail perched on his shoulder whistled, then goggled with its mustard yellow eyes on red and white stalks.

    "Dale''s hungry," Bert said.

    "I know, you''ve told me three-thousand times," Fritz said with some exasperation. "I know they eat salt, but have you tried to feed it anything else? I distinctly remember that there were the bones of other creatures where we discovered those snails. Perhaps ''Dale'' would like some delectable eel meat?"

    "How did I not think of that," Bert cried, slapping his forehead.

    "I''m sure it was the excitement of becoming-"

    "A father. Yes, that must be it," Bert interrupted.

    "I was going to say beast-bonded," Fritz said.

    "That too," Bert agreed.

    He turned and strode towards their packs and bags, specifically the soggy, smelly ones full of shark and eel meat.

    Bert pulled open the packs at random, then began to peel and offer small strips to his beast. It took the raw fish tentatively with eager feelers and set it to a tiny, fanged maw. It nibbled, then burbled.

    "He likes it!" Bert cried, waking Rose and Cal.

    Rosie sat up quickly and stared around with her dark eyes, then down at her hands, seemingly surprised at their scaly appearance. The reaction made sense, this was the first time she''d woken as something other than human. She marvelled again at her grey-blue, metallic scales, baring her shark-like teeth in a grin.

    Cal''s grey eyes groggily locked onto the source of noise. He scowled, pushing dark hair out of his boyish face.

    "Why are you yelling?" He grumbled.

    "Ah, Cal, just the man I wanted to talk to," Bert said. "Get started on breakfast. I''m starving."

    "Is that the way to ask that?" Cal groused.

    Fritz himself was feeling quite hungry, so stepped in quickly to weave his own demands. "Cal, my good man and mighty Hauler. Surely you want to try out that new pan of yours. A spot of breakfast is the perfect test of it''s magical properties."

    Cal perked up somewhat at the reminder, then while pretending to be reluctant, stood and wandered over to their packs.

    "We got any wood left from the jungle? Don''t want to wake Lauren," he said as he looked over their stores of food.

    "A good instinct, she might burn your hair off. There''s some wood in there," Bert replied, pointing out one of the packs.

    Fritz left Cal to his cooking while he took stock of his own equipment and Treasures. On his fingers, he had his two rings, one of echolocation and one of barrier. Around his neck was the necklace of misty beads that could conjure a cloud of sea spray. His waist was buckled with his new Eelkin Belt that held a potent boon that increased Reflex, Speed and Agility. Its other power was more situational, allowing him to grow gills.

    In its sheath, and now looped on his belt, was Quicksilver, and on his other hip his curse dagger, Mortal Edge, rested. Lastly were his merely magical items, his wonderfully comfortable, quiet boots and his luxurious, lightning-proof glove. He also had two spares of the velvety black glove, though both were right-handed.

    His dark-green swamp-buck armour was looking the worse for wear. Torn and cut in many places, shredded by the sand-sharks he had fought and other holes from other foes besides.

    He sighed at the sight of its ruin, he''d likely have to get new armour. Though the thought occurred to him he could get some made, either out of the eel scales or shark skins they had scavenged. Both could have useful properties. Maybe he could even have two sets made, one of each material. The eel scales might even complement what he had commissioned from Anchorwrought Smithy. He would have to pick that up when he could, after he''d also collected his things from his various secret stashes and checked the hidden safe in the drowned district.

    He patted his pockets absently, making sure he didn''t miss anything and found that he had two, or rather three, things left he had almost forgotten. He really had acquired a lot on this Climb. There was the juggernaut elixir, the magical patch of cloth that Lauren couldn''t identify and the contingency charm.

    He felt a little bad about not adding the potent elixir and the charm to the pile when they took their picks from the loot, but he had honestly forgotten about them. He could remedy the guilt by offering up the items, but some greedy, paranoid part of him wanted to keep them. Fritz very much desired to keep the contingency charm, and was about to tuck them away into his pack when it again occurred to him that he couldn''t keep either the potion or the charm anywhere on his person for the time being.

    They had belonged to Larry''s team so wearing them was as good as shouting that they''d had a hand in killing them.

    "Cal," Fritz said, as he approached the man busying himself with breakfast.

    "What?"

    "Store these would you," Fritz said offering the elixir and the charm. "Can''t have the Nightshark see them."

    "You likely to meet the Nightshark?" Cal asked.

    "Very," Fritz admitted. "And I don''t want to incriminate myself too much."

    "Incriminate yourself to a criminal?" George asked opening one yellow eye and smiling slyly. He sat up slowly, stretching his broad shoulders and well-muscled frame. He ran a hand over the stubble of his used-to-be-shaven head and looked around.

    "Maybe incriminate is the wrong word. Though I''ll be killed if I displease them, so let''s not argue the semantics," Fritz said smiling back.

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    "Anything else you need stored?" Cal asked as the air bent and items were sucked away into his Personal Pack.

    Fritz thought a moment then looked down to his boots. He grimaced, he didn''t know how much the Nightshark had valued Kev, but Fritz had murdered him and Kev had been one of the browncoats all the same.

    "It''s best to store these too," Fritz sighed, sitting and pulling off his boots.

    "You killed a man for those boots?" Cal asked incredulously.

    "Among other things," Fritz said blandly.

    "Anyone we know?" Rosie asked.

    "I''d rather not talk about it," Fritz said, searching for his spare set of ill-fitting boots in his pack, finding them and putting them on. Internally, he bemoaned the loss of comfort.

    "Fair enough," Rosie said with a glittering shrug. "Knowing you, I''m sure he was right bastard."

    "A real mean one too," Cal agreed, nodding his head.

    It gladdened Fritz, to hear his team say as much, even if they had only his word on the matter. He pretended at remorse for a moment longer before thinking of the other things they might give them away to any of the foes lurking in the streets and gutters.

    "I''m not sure if the Raider''s team will track us down, or if they left to Climb without him. But we shouldn''t flaunt what we looted from his body either. Maybe we should hide his stuff along with the rest."

    The last of the team announced their wakefulness at that comment.

    "I''ll just wear gloves," Lauren yawned. "It''ll keep the ring I took covered."

    "This pack won''t stand out too much, there are plenty like it," Cal said.

    "It''s just the Technique scrolls and bittersteel dagger then. They''re very uncommon are they not?" Fritz asked.

    "Very rare in Rain City," Lauren agreed as she sat up, brushing her currently messy dark brown hair from her face.

    "When''s breakfast?" She asked as she stared around at them with her yellow-green eyes that sparked with tiny embers.

    Even in her dishevelled state, she was so striking that Cal''s mouth fell slightly agape as he watched her waking.

    "S-soon," he stuttered.

    The fool.

    "Are we leaving after we eat?" Lauren asked as she pulled a brush from her pack and started to tame her hair.

    "That''s the plan," Fritz said.

    "Speaking of plans, yours is fairly vague," Lauren said absently. "We leave and then we find accommodations?"

    "And then we slowly sell off the sirensilk and other materials. Yes," Fritz said. "I can''t really make too many plans with what and who is looming over me and Bert."

    "I guess that''s just how we''ll have to do it," Lauren agreed. "Without a forecast, you could be sailing into a storm."

    "Exactly. Once we have more knowledge to work with we can start making proper plans," Fritz said. "And we''ll need the downtime anyway, to rest, train and practice our new Techniques or learn any ones we may purchase."

    "You want us to get some more Techniques?" Cal asked as he peered through his cookbook and tried to find a recipe to suit the produce he did have.

    "Can''t hurt. Or it can, but having a Technique channel free seems a waste of potential power," Fritz explained. "And improving a Technique is one of the few ways to strengthen yourself outside the Spires."

    "I thought only Climbing made you strong," Rosie said.

    "That''s mostly true," Fritz agreed. "Though there are things you can do on the outside to give you an edge. Such as training your personal skill or your body so your Attributes have more ''base'' to multiply."

    "Huh. Okay," Rosie said. "So we should do push ups and stuff?"

    Fritz nodded, smiling amiably.

    "You''ll need some training too, won''t you, Dale," Bert said to his fist-sized beast. It slurped down a strip of raw eel, not answering.

    "Does that thing-"

    "Dale," Bert interrupted.

    "Does ''Dale'' count as a Climber?" Rosie asked.

    "No," Lauren said. "It counts as part of Bert."

    "We''re best friends," Bert proclaimed.

    "I thought you said you were its father?" Fritz said drily.

    "What!?" Bert cried in mock offence. "Preposterous! Are you saying I slept with a snail?"

    "We all know your tastes are eclectic and expansive, and don''t deny you''ve been inside one," Fritz replied flippantly.

    The team looked at Bert with disgust.

    "It wasn''t like that!" Bert bemoaned. "We were fighting! It was a great struggle!"

    "Uh huh," Fritz said blandly "And then you just so happened to find a snail egg. What a coincidence."

    "That proves nothing," Bert said.

    "You know, Dale does look a bit like you," George said, a smile tugging at his lips.

    "What? You too George?" Bert groaned as if wounded by some betrayal.

    The team laughed and Dale whistled, joining the mirth.

    Bert looked at them aghast before breaking his act and laughing along.

    "How''s the new pan?" Fritz asked as sharkflesh began to sizzle.

    "It''s bigger," Cal said.

    "Anything else?'' It''s meant to be magic right?" Bert asked.

    "It is magic," Lauren stated.

    "I don''t know what it does yet," Cal said. "Just started cooking."

    "Maybe it makes food taste better," Bert said.

    "Smell that?" Fritz asked.

    "Only some smoke from the fire," Bert said sniffing the air.

    "Exactly. There''s no scent of fish, it''s not smoking or steaming either," Fritz observed.

    "Huh, hadn''t noticed that," Bert said.

    "What?" Cal asked. "I can smell it just fine."

    Bert and Fritz crept closer until they too could smell the frying.

    "Must suppress the scent," Fritz theorised. "Combined with Heat Metal, Cal could cook in peace without monsters finding the smoke or scent."

    "And here I was hoping it was self-cleaning," Cal sighed.

    "The wish of any cook, I''m sure," Fritz said.

    Soon they were eating. It was quite a good meal and there was much chattering and laughing. They talked about what they were likely to spend their gold on when Rosie shuffled over to Fritz and handed him a gold triad.

    "What''s this for?" Fritz asked.

    "For the Spire levy," Rosie said. "I''m paying you back."

    "Oh, you don''t have to," Fritz objected, pocketing the gold. "It''s merely a drop in the bucket compared to the wealth we procured together. That and I did claim many of the Treasures we''ve found."

    Rosie shrugged. "It just doesn''t feel right to leave a debt like that. And it''s like you just said, it''s a drop in the bucket. I''ve still got seventy-four gold."

    George looked on thoughtfully as did Lauren. They also pulled out some gold triads and tossed them to Fritz. He snatched them from the air easily.

    "You really don''t have to," Fritz protested, smirking and tucking away the coins.

    They smiled back, amused by his false generosity.

    Cal was next, handing him two triads, muttering, "For the other stuff too."

    Fritz nodded seriously, matching the man''s sincerity.

    After some minutes more breakfast was served, attracting the attention of the other two lingering in the precipice with them.

    "Toby," Fritz said nodding at the sour-faced, if handsome, fellow with black hair and dark eyes.

    "Fritz," Toby nodded back, a tilt of respect hidden in the gesture.

    "Jane," Fritz greeted.

    The round-faced and burn-scarred woman with shoulder-length mousy brown hair nodded back. She didn''t speak, instead, she kept her dull grey eyes on the ground. She swallowed heavily. It wasn''t a snub, he realised, as she looked sickly and pale, and she sweat a little.

    "George we''ll need the pot," Fritz called.

    George looked over and nodded once when he saw Jane''s face. He placed the rusted iron pot in front of her and she tried to wave it away.

    "Take it unless you want to be sick in the fountain," Fritz said. "Though that might not be so bad, that statue is all-too-smug for my liking. A little defacement wouldn''t go amiss."

    Jane looked up and around before her sickness wracked her and she undulated. She picked up the pot and fled behind a pillar. She retched and hacked. Fritz and Toby grimaced. Her condition was taking a toll on her, and Climbing with child likely wasn''t great on the body either.

    "Toby," Lauren said sharply. "Go help her. Hold her hair or something."

    "Right of course," he agreed, following her order.

    Lauren sighed, shaking her head slightly.

    "Who is that meant to be anyway?" Bert asked, motioning to the fountain and the carved, robed stone man, holding a staff that poured out water in a glimmering dome.

    "I don''t know, but they look familiar. I''ve met them before I''m sure of it," Fritz stated, looking over the regal, angular features and carved scales of the statue.

    "It''s the king," Lauren said. "How can you not know that?"

    "One noble looks like any other to me, I''m afraid," Fritz said with arrogant indifference.

    "You''ve met the king then?" George said.

    "Must have," Fritz agreed with a shrug. "I''m very important you know. Noble and dignified blood runs in these veins," he added, tilting his chin regally.

    Bert scoffed, Lauren rolled her eyes and George smiled.

    Fritz laughed, dropping the airs.

    "Still, do you remember anything about it?" George asked.

    "About what?" Fritz asked.

    "About meeting the king," George pressed.

    "Bits and pieces, I was very young. I think I was there for his daughter''s birthday celebration, she was turning six at the time. I was likely about that age too, maybe younger, now that I come to think of it," Fritz mused, trying to remember the distant, locked-away memories.

    "My mother wore a pale blue dress, and my father wore a suit the same green of Portus-Hai''s shore," he continued wistfully. "I remember the king greeting them in resplendent blues and greys trimmed in silver. He was tall. His crown was a circlet of bright silver set with Rainstones, he was blonde and blue-eyed, and his scales glittered like gems. He talked to my parents like they were old friends, and greeted me like a grandfather might. Then as soon as he''d said his polite words he left. I recall he had a magnificent voice, rumbling like thunder, clear as cold rain."

    "Did you meet the princess too?" Lauren asked, intrigued.

    "I don''t remember. I think she had dark hair..." Fritz said, the memory slipping out of his grasp. He found that his eyes ached and his vision was beginning to blur as they always did when thinking of what he had lost. What had been taken.

    "Enough of that I think," Fritz said with a cough and a surreptitious wiping of his tears. "Tales of like that can be told on the outside."

    Lauren sat backwards, realising she''d been leaning forward in her interest.

    The team fell quiet and concentrated on eating. Toby and Jane joined them and Cal cooked them some more meals to eat while they waited behind for the agreed-upon two days.

    "What kind of beast should we tell them killed Larry and his crew?" Toby asked.

    "I don''t know, not an aberrant eel that''s for sure," Bert said.

    "Or a snail," Fritz said pointing at Dale.

    "I don''t think a snail could defeat anyone," Toby commented.

    "Oh, ho ho. Just you wait ''till Dale''s all grown," Bert retorted.

    "Just how big will your beast get?" Lauren asked.

    "Big," Bert said unhelpfully.

    "You''ll need to get a badge for him," Lauren said.

    "What?" Bert asked through a mouth of shark meat.

    "You''ll need a badge from the king, or rather, one of the royal officials," Lauren explained. "They can''t just let a beast walk around. It scares people."

    "Oh, okay, I''ll get one," Bert said, feeding Dale a small strip of cooked food. He ate it and warbled happily.

    "Anything else we have to worry about as we leave?" Fritz asked. "Like laws, taxes and levies?"

    "No," Lauren said. "We should stick together until we find a place to stay. Apart from that we should be free and clear."

    "What no shakedown at the gates?" Bert asked.

    "No, nothing like that," Lauren said.

    "Then how does the king take his cut from the Climbers?" Fritz asked.

    "Apart from the levies to enter the Spires, merchants and nobles pay the taxes," Lauren said. "It would be a nightmare searching all the Climbers with their various powers and Treasures. And it would stir even more resentment. He just taxes the trade of Treasures and materials, as well as the noble houses."

    "Then he''s relying on merchants being honest?" Fritz asked suspiciously.

    "Gods no. His taxmen have truth-finding powers," Lauren said. Then with a small smirk, she continued, "My mother would complain incessantly about them. Though she also impressed upon me that trying to fool them wasn''t worth the hassle. If they thought your documents were suspicious it would only increase their intrusive oversight. Which is undesirable to say the least."

    "Huh, guess that makes some sense," Bert allowed. "But there are still ways to trick powers like that right?"

    Lauren shrugged. "I''m sure there are. Though they''re few and far between. Also the king also owns the Treasury, which means he earns a lot from the auctioning and trading of Treasures. Among other ventures."

    "Fair enough," Bert said, the conversation thankfully coming to a close.

    "When we''re done with breakfast, we''ll pack up and go," Fritz said.

    The team nodded.

    Within fifteen minutes they were packing all their Treasures, magical items, monster parts and fabulous fruits. And within thirty they were ready to leave.

    They stood around listlessly, eager to leave and reap the other rewards of their Climb.

    Fritz had one last thing to do, align his Attributes. He had them wait a while longer while he dived into his Sanctum.

    It was raining, his willow waved shadowy branches in the light wind. He sat in his grey, silvery pavilion, watching the gossamer purple curtains ripple. Eldritch flame burned in a moonsilver brazier writ with chaotic patterns that could almost be butterflies. It greeted him with a crackling cackle, mocking but merry.

    He sat in his chair and considered his choices. While he could put this choice off for later his Sanctum still ached and he wanted to be rid of that slight pressure of unaligned power pulsing through him. He knew that the longer he held it the more it would burn and he couldn''t afford to be distracted by pain.

    Control and Dusksong stood out to him the most, they were powerful and could help him in many ways, though making his magic stronger would affect his emotions and he still needed to find the limits and uses for his Control. Study and training would be required and he''d seek them out in time.

    In the end, he decided to add another point to Awareness, Perception and Focus as they didn''t feel right sitting at their current numbers of Twenty, twenty and seventeen respectively.

    Something about the values themselves irked him and he knew that Awareness and Perception would benefit him in Rain City, where he would have to be looking for plots and traps before he blindly stepped into them. Focus was needed mostly due to the strain of his mental and magical Attributes so he couldn''t neglect that either. He Assigned his points, felt the cool power wash over him then brought up his Spire sheet for one last look at all his progress.

    ---------

    Spire Readout

    ---------

    Name: Francis Hightide

    Level: 20

    Path: Spy

    Strain: Human

    Sigil: Sunken Spire, Gold(10), Mer Spire, Gold(10).

    ---------

    Attributes

    ---------

    Strength: 9

    Agility: 9

    Endurance: 9

    Perception: 21

    Focus: 18

    Memory: 9

    ---------

    Advanced Attributes

    ---------

    Awareness: 21

    Control: 12

    Dusksong: 12

    Grace: 6

    ---------

    Activated 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Stone Pit

    Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.

    ---

    Gloom Strike

    Weapon writhes, in shadow''s grace, deliver foes, to night''s embrace.

    ---

    Lethargy

    Feeling tired? Getting slow? Take a rest, let it go.

    ---

    ---------

    Passive 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Trap Sense

    Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it''s dire.

    ---

    Danger Sense - Evolution 1/3

    Behind the boulder, up in the tree, lurking threats, can''t hide from me.

    ---

    Umbral Phase

    A shifting shadow, unmarred by blade, foes fail to harm, a formless shade.

    ---

    ---------

    Trait 3/3

    ---------

    ---

    Door Sense

    Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?

    ---

    Cloak of Dusk

    Wrap yourself in twilight''s cover, what''s one shadow from another?

    ---

    Hand of Eldritch Flame

    A touch of chaos, a gift of pains, the burning hand, chars the chains.

    ---

    ---------

    Path 1/3

    ---------

    ---

    Illusory Shadow - Evolution 2/3

    Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.

    ---

    ---------

    Technique 2/3

    ---------

    ---

    The Observations (Novice)

    Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.

    ---

    Arte Pugilist (Novice)

    Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.

    ---

    ---------

    Strain 0/3

    ---------

    ---

    ---------

    Fritz grinned. He''d come so far and in just over two weeks. He was more than thrice the man he had been. Far more.

    Just reflecting on that lightened the weight that had settled on his shoulders, the fear he still held, instinctively, of the Nightshark and their minions. He didn''t know how things would turn out in the end. Who could? But Fritz felt sure of one thing. He was more prepared than ever to face the trials ahead.

    He flew out from his Sanctum, stood, searched his team''s excited expressions and nodded once.

    He was powerful and he would not waste his chance. He would use everything, even his noble name, to his advantage. He would pass through the peril and prevail. Nightshark or no.

    He strode forward, towards the stairs down.

    There was much to do.

    "Onward."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 2

    Fritz and his team stepped out onto wet stone and into cool, morning rain. Another team of Climbers were trying to enter the Mer Spire, but stepped to the side to let Fritz through. He walked forward, leading his own team, finding that the leaving line was far more sparse than the entering one. They were at the gates out within a minute, or would have been if not for an obstacle before them.

    There was a group of Scale Guard waiting within the walls enclosing the Spire. They wore their ubiquitous, pale-green scale armour and watched the Spire''s Door, hands resting on the deadly Treasures they were armed with. Fritz and his crew passed by them without word or acknowledgement. Those steady, stern glares were not ones they wanted to attract.

    The team nervously trudged towards the exit and through the tall gate''s open doors, Fritz could see there was a milling crowd of non-climbers waiting for something or someone and chattering excitedly in the courtyard outside the walls.

    "What''s going on?" Cal asked one of the gate guards. A grizzled-looking woman in the dull-grey rainsteel breastplate.

    "There was the flash of a Golden Climb yesterday. They''re waiting to greet the Empire''s Prince and cheer him," the storm guard explained.

    "Oh. You could see that?" Cal asked

    "We can," the guard said.

    "What if it wasn''t that Prince?" Rosie asked.

    The guard shrugged. "Then the crowd will be disappointed. It could be some foreign team. That happens from time to time. But really, it''s probably the Prince."

    "What if it was us?" Rosie asked.

    The guard looked them over with a discerning eye, it lingered on Rosie in her ragged leathers. She scratched at her scales nervously, then the guard scoffed.

    "Get out of here, you scamps. Go enjoy being Pathers," she said, not unkindly, but incredibly condescendingly. "And you, you lucky young lady, should go straight to the palace. They pay a good wage to newly changed Merfolk like yourself. At least nine times what a normal servant could hope to earn."

    "Really?" Rosie asked.

    "Really," the guard assured. "Now move along, you don''t want to be in the way when the Prince eventually appears."

    They obeyed, quickly walking under the gate''s arch and into the waiting masses, finding their way to someplace they could talk.

    "That way," Lauren said, pointing over their heads. "There''s some vacant houses, or at least they were empty before we left."

    Fritz nodded and they trusted Lauren to lead them through the Upper Ring. She was the most experienced in navigating its busy streets and canals, having lived there all her life. Soon they found themselves in front of a row of nine three-storied houses. They weren''t wall to wall like Fritz expected them to be, but they were close together as space was hard to come by in Rain City.

    "Wait here," Lauren said, she was about to stride away when she stopped, turned and added, "Fritz, Rosie, you better come too."

    "Why?" Fritz asked. "I thought you could handle all this."

    "First impressions, you''re a noble and she''s a merfolk. They might not do business with us otherwise. Also we''ll get a better price this way," Lauren explained leading them toward the first house in the row.

    She knocked on the door and it was answered by an older gentleman, a servant, who led them to a sitting room when Lauren enquired about renting one of the houses. They waited for maybe fifteen minutes before another man was introduced to them. His name was Roderick Saltstep. He wasn''t the owner, that honour belonged to the Duchess Blackbrine, but he claimed that he managed the affairs of these particular properties.

    He stared calculating brown eyes over those there in the sitting room, and he smoothed his clean, well-cut coat while he sat across from them.

    "Thank you for meeting us on such short notice," Lauren said. "I''m Lauren Farshore and this is the Captain of our Climbing team."

    "Francis Hightide," Fritz said, introducing himself with a seated bow.

    "Hightide," Roderick pondered. His face soured when he seemed to remember something. "Ah yes, I remember now. The Guide debacle, quite the affair. Still, that debt was paid. You''re the son?" He asked as if the fall of Fritz''s house and family was of little importance.

    "That''s right. One of them at least," Fritz said, suppressing his fury and stilling his suddenly trembling hands.

    "That''s well and good then. Normally the Duchess wouldn''t allow an unaffiliated group of Climbers to settle in one of her houses. But as you are affiliated, being of the noble house of Hightide, you can patronise this team," Roderick said.

    Fritz swallowed down some bitter words while pondering the implications of proclaiming himself a noble and becoming the patron of his own team.

    "Well and good," Lauren agreed, smiling prettily and filling the strained silence.

    "Well and good," Rosie repeated, copying her with a vicious grin.

    "Just sign here," the man said, proffering a sheaf of paper lettered with bold script, a bottle of squid ink, and a stormhawk feather quill.

    "I''ll have my adviser look over it first, if you don''t mind," Fritz said, blandly hiding the war beneath the surface and the quickening of his heart.

    "Certainly," Roderick said, taking a cup of tea prepared by the servant, who also laid out some for the others.

    Fritz handed the paper to Lauren who quickly read over the contract''s contents. While she did so his mind raced with questions about what he was doing. Fritz had, of course, considered taking back his noble house before, but that was in the far future, once he was truly powerful, not right now when he was only marginally equipped to do so.

    He had an almost visceral reaction, a profound sense of disgust at the thought of rejoining the nobility. He dreaded being pulled in to play their petty games and participate in their pointless politicking, but he couldn''t let that personal distaste cloud his reason. Not when it could have such profound effects on his team and family.

    It occurred to him, that by setting himself up as the noble he was, even a disgraced one, would mean claiming everything that came with it. Namely the inheritance and his rightful place as his house''s head. His stomach roiled with guilt, fear and something he couldn''t name. He wanted to stand up and run out of the stifling room, and he could feel himself sweat. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, holding himself there.

    Pushing down all the initial irrationality, Fritz Controlled his thoughts and Focused, sifting through the benefits and downsides to pursuing his lordship and claiming his inheritance. While it was true their were responsibilities he''d have to uphold as a lord, taxes chief among them, there were also many privileges that he would be afforded. Those far beyond what one could dream of as a commoner. Such as the right to own land and a large amount of legal protections that none other than the nobility were granted.

    Perhaps he could use such privileges to shield himself from the Nightshark, or the nobles he''d insulted in the Mer Spire, or any number of enemies he''d made both in the gutter and out. It was a sour thought, but one well worth considering. He weighed the paths ahead, avoidance or action, but he couldn''t come to a clear conclusion.

    "It''s a fair offer and very reasonably priced," Lauren stated once she was done reading, which startled Fritz from his trance.

    "Good," Fritz said, still mulling over his choices and picking up a cup of tea. "How much?"

    "An upfront advance of six gold which entitles you to a one month stay. And three gold per month after to extend the contract," she explained.

    Fritz nearly spat out the tea he was almost able to enjoy. With one gold triad you could rent a cheap room in the districts for half a year, nine months really if you found a ''one-silver-steal''. And here three such triads a month was ''very reasonably priced?'' The disparity was absurd.

    He debated the costs and benefits in his mind, and soon settled into a resignation that any accommodations he procured in the districts would likely be small, sparse and surrounded on all sides by ready-to-rupture gutters. Sure he could probably find a nice, out-of-the-way place with an intact roof and a couple of clean rooms for some silvers, but that would take time to find and, eventually, the gangs or guard would come knocking.

    These houses in the Upper Ring were in a more prosperous part of the city, they were open to rent right now and would let them rest more comfortably, perhaps even in peace. Though it was far more expensive. His reflexive greed told him he could sleep in a disused attic, as he had been, and in doing so he could keep more of his gold and could escape having to declare himself Lord Hightide.

    Could he subject the entire team to something like that? Would he run away to save himself some triads? Sure they were all Pathers and well capable of finding employment of their own or lodgings where they willed. But he felt a duty to both them and himself, to spare them all from those indignities. He wanted to keep his team together and safe. Dusksong hummed and rang in agreement.

    What was his power and wealth for if not for improving his, and those he cared for''s, lives?

    "How many rooms does each house have?" Fritz asked.

    "They are fashioned for Climbing teams such as yourselves. So there are nine bedrooms, fully furnished, with a kitchen, dining room, a vault and a lounge. As you can see there''s also a small yard out the back," Roderick espoused.

    The house had what they needed for the moment, and having it already furnished would cut down on all the preparations and other fiddly nonsense that came with moving hideouts.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    "And how quickly could we settle into the premises?" Fritz asked.

    "Immediately, Sir," the man said. "As soon as the six triads are provided and the contract is signed and sealed."

    Fritz nodded and thought for another moment, he glanced to his two teammates. Lauren tilted her head forward, telling him they should take it. Rosie stared around, tapping a foot, seemingly bored by the whole process.

    Fritz pondered a moment longer. His instincts pulled and pushed him both ways, like a willow in a storm. Eventually, pride, duty and desire won through over greed and fear. He was rich now, he might as well enjoy a few comforts, like a dry room and a proper bed. As for his lordship, well, he was going to claim it eventually, why not embrace it sooner rather than later?

    "We''ll take it," Fritz said, making his decision in that moment and placing six gold triads on the tea table with six sharp clacks.

    He felt the weight of indecision fall off his shoulders, replaced with an apprehension that bordered on mania. Even if he thought he was doing the right thing, that didn''t help the treacherous whispers in his mind, the ones that told him that he would fail, that he and his house was destined to fall.

    He pushed them away, silencing them.

    "Excellent." Roderick beamed.

    Fritz poured his Grace into his hand, and with smooth quill strokes he signed the paper in flowing, if imperfect, calligraphy. Roderick began to heat some wax with some kind of inscribed cylinder of bone about as long as a finger.

    Fritz wondered what the dark wax was for when he realised the man had said something about the contract being sealed. He must have meant his house''s seal.

    "Sorry, the seal must wait," Fritz said politely. "I haven''t my signet ring on me, I left it with my brother for safekeeping."

    Roderick frowned slightly. "The seal is required. I can''t authorise this document until your sign and seal are plain on paper and in wax."

    Fritz smiled politely. "I will be but an hour or two as I fetch it. Surely it will be fine if my team settles in, we''ve had a hard climb."

    "It will not be fine," Roderick said simply.

    Fritz smiled a little wider and embraced a humming, happy Dusksong in his chest. "Come now, the gold''s right here. There is no harm, or need to fear," Fritz said, his tones smooth and rhythmic.

    The man blinked slowly as a slight haziness entered his eyes, then he smiled slightly.

    "Yes, of course," he said, taking up the paper and collecting the triads. "I just need this sealed by the end of the day."

    "I''ll have sealed it before dusk," Fritz promised.

    Roderick handed the document and the gold to his servant, telling him, "Put it on my desk. And get the keys to the ''green'' house."

    When the servant had left, Roderick stood and said, "This way then."

    Fritz followed, as did Lauren and Rosie.

    Soon they were outside, in the rain, and Fritz waved his waiting team over to join the procession.

    Within a minute they stood outside the ''green'' house, likely named as such for the emerald green tiling of its roof and forest green curtains that hung in glass windows. There was a small iron fence around the premises, nothing that could keep out a determined thief, more something that marked the edges of the yard.

    The stone-brick front face of the house was close to the street, merely twelve feet away. Rose bushes grew below the windows, thorns dripped with rain and the buds were closed as the flowers were not in bloom.

    Well-kept clover covered the dirt, the teal, ink-spill splotches presenting a pleasing picture. Behind the building Fritz supposed there was a far larger yard similarly maintained, though he could only guess what lay beyond his view, save one tall tree that poked above the house''s roof.

    The servant arrived with the keys, there was one master and two spare. Fritz took them all.

    "Very nice, isn''t it?" Roderick said, gesturing to the house.

    It was. Though it was quite quaint to Fritz''s more noble sensibilities. It was a little smaller than he expected, but it was three stories tall and would easily fit him and his team. He almost worried at how full the place might feel with six people in it, but then he remembered what they''d already suffered through in the Spire together and nearly laughed at his unfounded fears.

    Roderick had also said it was made for nine.

    "Now, the windows and the outside doors are warded, so try to use the unlocked doors rather than the windows to leave," the man explained. "Otherwise you might get an explosive surprise."

    "That happen often?" Cal asked.

    "Often enough I have to warn new tenets," the man said drily.

    "Oh," Cal said.

    "There are room keys on a board in the lounge. Your rent is due at the end of the month, in sixteen days. And if you have any questions you can relay them to me through my manservant, Harold," Roderick explained. "Now, if there''s nothing else, I must be returning to my tasks."

    Fritz nodded once and the man bowed, taking it as a dismissal, then turning and striding away.

    For a moment they merely stood outside the four-foot-tall gate, admiring what was to be their home for the coming months. If all went to plan.

    Strangely and suddenly, Fritz had the feeling that this had been the right choice and his doubts were washed away like a leaf down a gutter.

    "Why are we all standing here?" Bert groused. "Let''s get a move on."

    "Right, of course," Fritz said, opening the gate and taking the short cobblestone path to his new hideout.

    He slid the key into the heavy, wooden door''s lock and he felt the slight hum of magic dissipating. He theorised that that must have been the wards. Idly he wondered how much it cost to create and continue to power the runes of the defensive magics. Something to look into, especially considering he wasn''t planning to come by all his Rain Spire badges legally.

    The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and Fritz led his team into the entrance hall. The wall to the right was hung with bare coat hooks, as well as a basket to store umbrellas. The left wall''s hooks had rain towels hanging from them and another basket, this one ostensibly for wet towels.

    They dried themselves quickly, then trudged into the next hall and passed the stairs leading up. They found the lounge, replete with comfy chairs and centred around a pair of couches flanking a long tea table set before a fireplace. It didn''t take any time at all to find the room keys, a board on the left wall held them on small pins, three by three.

    The team discussed on which floor they would each stay while they explored. The first floor seemed dedicated to communal needs such as the dining room, kitchen, a set of small studies, the large lounge and a room with a brass bathtub. The upper floors were reserved for bedrooms and personal storage, the second floor had five such rooms while the third had four.

    Eventually, it was decided that the men take the second floor while the women took the third. Each took up one of the keys and retraced their way back to the staircase.

    The wood barely creaked as they trudged up to their respective rooms, the place really was well maintained and wonderfully dry, not a leak to be seen. It was something of a luxury to those that were district-born, but Lauren took it for granted and seemed surprised when the rest of the team commented on it. Some of them suspiciously.

    "It''s normal," Lauren protested. "Your house isn''t supposed to be dripping."

    "Bloody decadent is what it is," Bert groused with a grin.

    "We''re rich," Rose said matching the grin with her own. "Livin'' dry, like lords ''n'' ladies."

    "Not too dry, I need a wash and a half," Fritz said. Though he was a little unnerved at how poignant Rosie''s passing comment was.

    "I know," Bert said, pinching his nose in mockery.

    Fritz ignored the man and claimed a bedroom, testing his key in its door and hearing it click. He swung it open and peered inside. Within there was a single bed already made and ready for use, and at its end, there was a small chest. There was a door to his left, it opened into a walk-in closet or perhaps a tiny armoury, judging from the hooks and racks on its walls. There was a small iron lantern on a bedside table, and beside it a brass key that turned out to lock the chest and the closet respectively.

    Curiously, Fritz glanced into his friends'' rooms and found them largely the same, save the differently patterned, yet still green, wallpaper. Quickly Fritz unpacked his personal items in the closet, loading the shelves with his mundane things. It was still left basically bare, as he was unwilling to part with his Treasures, and he had little in the way of clothes or keepsakes.

    With a shrug, he left the room with some clothes that had been rewarded by the Mer Spires chests. He had intended to be the first to use the bathtub, but found there was already a queue forming before a locked door.

    "Who has the impertinence to bathe before their Captain, and Lord," Fritz called out in false outrage.

    George turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

    "It seems one of the ladies beat us to it," he explained.

    "Ah, curse them!" Fritz said. "Be quick in there. I have places to be, and I can''t look like a ruffian while I do them."

    "There''s rain-shower stalls outside!" Lauren yelled through the tough wood as the sounds of sloshing could be heard and steam began to seep from below the door. "Go use that one if you''re in a hurry!"

    Fritz almost protested, but he heard a soft splash, then a moan of deep satisfaction. The sound sent a warm shiver down his spine and he decided to heed the woman''s advice.

    He strode out into the backyard and toward a set of wooden stalls. He ducked into one and latched the door behind him. Hanging to his right was a towel and on his left, there was an oval of polished steel along with a sink and some soap. There was no shaving razor or other things like cologne or oils, but he did bring his Spire-gifted shaving kit.

    The shower portion of the stall had a tap set into the wall that would cause the rain caught on the roof''s storage troughs to pour down through the shining brass shower head. It was simple, but being able to control the water you showered in was far preferable to trusting the rain outside.

    Here he was in the Upper Ring and he still had to use a rain shower. Still, this stall was nicer than the ones in the district and had a door, and soap, and no queue.

    Soon he was shaved, showered and shivering. He dried himself off and put on the spare clothes, a white shirt patterned with clam shells and dark trousers with thankfully no pattern at all. The garments warded off water better than any waterproofing he''d ever seen, though he should have suspect that as they had come from the Mer Spire.

    Before he left, Fritz checked himself in the mirror for a minute, or three, making sure he cut the dashing figure he knew he was. He was impressed.

    His face was less gaunt, and far more regal and handsome than it had been. His body also had filled out somewhat. Not to the extent that Bert''s, George''s and now Cal''s had, but he appreciated his new figure as he flexed an arm that was hidden by fabric.

    As distracting as all those other changes were, he was more captivated by his eyes. His purple and green irises seemed to twinkle at the edges with faerie light. His pupils, however, looked deeper than ever, like pools of restless shade. He hoped that these small changes wouldn''t be as obvious to everyone else, but supposed it wasn''t too important to fuss about. After all, he couldn''t change his eyes.

    "Maybe Mimicry would have been useful," he said to his smirking reflection.

    Fritz swept his dark hair back and belted Quicksilver, then Mortal Edge on his Eelkin belt. He arrayed himself with the rest of his various Treasures. Returning to his room, he stored his armour and picked up his pack, then he strolled to the lounge where he found George and Cal sitting beside the newly lit fireplace.

    "Where''d you get the wood?" Fritz asked.

    "There was some already there," Cal said.

    "We should clear a place to store our loot," Fritz said.

    "There''s a vault room under the house," George said.

    "Found that already? Where is it?" Fritz asked.

    George stood and led him into the hallway in the centre of the house then opened a door that led to a stairway leading down.

    "Down there is another door, heavy and locked," he explained. "I think it needs the master key."

    "Oh, I see," Fritz said immediately distrusting the room, but knowing it was the safest part of the property. "Warded as well you think?"

    "I would think so," George said.

    "I''m starting to see why this place is so expensive," Fritz admitted.

    "Was it?" Cal asked.

    "Oh yes," Fritz said. "Though let''s not get into it right now. We can use this ''vault'' for our materials for the time being, but carry your Treasures with you if you can."

    "Don''t need to tell me that," Cal said proudly, patting the ball and chain looped around his belt. "Never left my flail out of my sight ever."

    George smiled, saying, "I too have never been without my Treasures. Though mine are more convenient." He glanced to the copper ring on one tanned finger and the sleeve covered rainsteel bracer on his arm.

    Fritz was almost envious. No, he was envious, though he suppressed the feeling thoroughly. It wouldn''t do to covet his team''s Treasures. He unlocked the heavy vault door in the cellar to find a small stone room with no windows or other entrances, there he unloaded the materials he had been carrying.

    "What are we doing here?" Bert asked from the doorway.

    "Ah, Bert, just the man I wanted to see," Fritz said as he stood and turned.

    "Is that so?" Bert grinned. "Not sick of me yet?"

    "On the contrary. I am positively diseased by your presence, " Fritz stated. "Here take the master key. I need to sort some things out. I''ll be back by dusk."

    "What do you need to do?" Bert asked.

    "Noble stuff," Fritz said.

    "Noble stuff?" Bert asked.

    Fritz sighed.

    "Unfortunately, I have to fetch my signet ring, and in doing so, resurrect my house," Fritz proclaimed with some annoyance. "It will merely be a small resuscitation, though it does mean I''ll have to make some small waves when claiming what''s left of my inheritance. If there is anything apart from the name. Hopefully, it will be beyond the notice of any of the truly powerful."

    "I thought we were trying to lie low?" Bert asked.

    "This is lying low, my name is known and people will talk. Especially when those noblemen from the Empire Prince''s party finally leave the Mer Spire," Fritz explained.

    "Ah. I forgot about them," Bert said.

    "So did I," Fritz said. "But the business of acquiring this place and needing a noble''s seal reminded me of that incident and of all I have to take back. And that''s best done as quickly and quietly as possible. Before any other nobles get involved."

    "Think they could mess things up?" Bert asked pensively.

    "I know so," Fritz said, grimacing.

    "Don''t let me stop you," Bert said. "Hop to it, milord. Oh, and find out how to get a badge for Dale while you''re at it. I smuggled him out in my pack, so I don''t think anyone saw him, but I''d like to take him out, show him the city."

    "Alright, I can do that," Fritz said, knowing it was easier to agree with than argue with the man.

    Fritz re-slung his much lighter pack over his shoulders and climbed the stairs up and out. Most of his team were gathered in the hall and had been listening in. He grimaced and they all looked a little guilty, but were far too intrigued to show much shame.

    Before anyone could ask him a question he gave them orders, "Get all the materials and spare silks down there. I''ll tell you what comes next tonight."

    They didn''t look satisfied, but they obeyed, and soon Fritz was striding out the front door and into the rain. He had too many thoughts and too much to do, but he knew where he was going first.

    "Back to the orphanage."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 3

    It was approaching noon and the rain was heavy. The bad weather didn''t deter the populace, the Upper Ring was still filled with patrons. They took shelter under the awnings or strode in the streets, clad in dark raincoats or protecting themselves with umbrellas. Some of the more wealthy-looking parties had Rainshield Imbued Treasures or a servant with the same Ability to save themselves the fiddly or unfashionable nature of such awkward apparel.

    Fritz decided to join those crowds in the streets as they were moving faster, but first, he needed something to keep himself from the rain. He couldn''t turn up dripping wet as he had done before, it would be unseemly, not befitting a man of his position, or rather, the rank he had yet to claim.

    Ducking under an awning, Fritz swiftly discovered a shop that sold umbrellas and raincoats.

    He searched the store for maybe three minutes, then bought one collapsible black umbrella with a dark wooden handle set with a flowery pattern of silver lines. It had caught his eye mainly due to the fact it bore some resemblance to his own sword''s hilt. When he grasped it he couldn''t help but flourish it, then thrust with it as if it were a rapier. The owner stared at him, a small smirk threatening to crawl onto his lips.

    Fritz coughed awkwardly and approached the counter. Although he haggled with the soothing tones of Dusksong, he was only able to cut a third off of its original price. It was surprisingly costly, which the owner claimed was because of the efficient collapsing enchantment. Fritz stared suspiciously at the umbrella''s shaft, looking for the fine runes hidden in the pattern. He couldn''t see them and he said so. The owner just claimed that that was a sign of true craftsmanship.

    Fritz suppressed a shrug, he still had plenty of gold, so he decided to spend a little. Especially since he''d taken a liking to the sturdy item already. He paid the requested six silvers, or rather he paid with one gold and received three silvers in return.

    Fritz left the store and slid a thumb over the activation rune. He waited as the umbrella slowly opened. Holding it over his head, Fritz took to the streets, the rain drumming on his new covering.

    He had an easier time navigating the more sparsely traversed uncovered streets, people would move out of his way without a grumble. And if someone did step into his path they would quickly apologise with "sorry sir" or "excuse me, milord" and give a small bow, even if Fritz had been the one at fault. It seemed as though he didn''t need his fancy coat to look like a lord. It must have been his purposeful stride that gave him away, that, and Quicksilver belted at his side.

    Fritz didn''t dwell on it, simply embracing the bearing that was ingrained in him when he was young.

    As the orphanage loomed in the distance, he began to doubt his plans. Sudden and insistent worries needled him with sharp questions.

    Did he really want to take on the responsibility for his house? Would his siblings have to leave the safety of the orphanage if he did so? How does one become a Lord? What hoops would he have to jump through? How much time would this all take? Would the Nightshark know? What would happen when they were inevitably dragged before them? Would his family be safe? Would his team be safe? Would Sid be safe?

    Disputing and debating, the thoughts rushed around his mind. Something was crawling up his spine and his heart began to race. Fritz stopped in place.

    Suddenly, he felt he needed to hide. He just had to get out of sight for a second. He slipped into the shadow of a building and quickly crouched, wrapping himself in dusk. His breathing came swiftly, and his heart pounded, beating on his ribs, trying to escape the prison of his chest. He cursed at himself and tried to take control of this torrent of emotion. A flood of fear, guilt, expectation, and failure flowed over him.

    Fritz stared around wildly searching for foes, but there was no one there but him. He slowed his breathing, stretching his shallow panting into long, deep breaths. He listened to Dusksong as it rang in admonition. Apparently, his terror had offended it somehow. He wondered why and forced his mind to focus on anything other than his still screaming heart. He set his Awareness to make sense of this sudden outburst.

    He needn''t have, it was obvious when he thought about it. It was the great, heavy responsibility and he feared it.

    It made no sense.

    He''d been leading a Climbing team through life and death for almost two weeks now and simply the thought of taking hold of his house had struck such anguish in him. It was stupid, a pathetic thing. An old wound, an old fear, left to fester and set to rot.

    It was time to excise that infection. Face his fate fully, and take what he could. Only action could be the salve that ceased the spread of this illness.

    He told himself these things, but he still couldn''t move. Minutes passed. Dusksong droned, and deep within flame flickered, crackled and cackled. Grim fury roiled through him at the fiery mockery. He willed himself to stand. At first it was hard, then it was easy. Choosing the path was always the most difficult part. But he was a Scout and he''d find the way.

    Now he was standing and his breath had taken on the smooth grace of calm. His heart ceased trying to leap out of his chest. The storm had passed and he was going to do what he had to, if that meant rejoining the nobility and being chained by their inane rules, he would do so. Everything for power. The power to protect those close and the power to be free.

    Those goals were at odds, as many of his desires were, he knew that intellectually. Yet still he sought them. It was his nature.

    After another minute of settling his nerve, he let out a long exhalation and began to stride towards the orphanage again. Soon he was at the gate and he vaulted over it with great grace, then he moved to the heavy door. He knocked and was greeted with Frank''s wrinkled scowl.

    "Oh, Francis, it''s you," he said with a deep rasp.

    "Very astute, you could be a guard," Fritz said.

    "I am a guard, and I thought you were Climbing," Frank said, opening the door fully to let Fritz out of the rain.

    "Obviously I''m not," Fritz said, stepping in and collapsing his umbrella. "Are you sure you''re a guard?"

    "Sure as you are a pain in the arse, boy," Frank retorted, his grumpiness mostly a facade.

    "Are my siblings about?" Fritz asked.

    Frank nodded.

    "May I see them?"

    Frank shrugged.

    "Shall I find Jess then?" Fritz asked, peering down the hall for the former orphan girl who now did some teaching and managed the ledgers.

    "I''ll lead you to her, can''t have you gallivanting all over the place," Frank said, his half-plate armour creaking as he turned and walked away.

    Fritz followed, then soon set himself to walk beside the man rather than being led around like a child.

    "Anything happen in my absence?" Fritz asked only mildly interested.

    "Amathea has started courting a young man," Frank said.

    Fritz almost tripped, almost cried out that she was too young.

    Frank glanced at him and smirked when he saw Fritz''s sour expression.

    "She''s not," Fritz said.

    "She''s not," Frank said with a chuckle. "Look at your face. Hah."

    Anger boiled in his gut, but he let it go quickly. He wasn''t here for petty grudges. No, the grudges he had to settle were far more grandiose. And so he settled for weaving a Lethargy into the man as they walked.

    Frank yawned and his eyelids drooped a little.

    "Gods, boy, you really are trouble. Just being near you exhausts me," he said.

    "You''re just getting old," Fritz replied blandly.

    They stopped at a door, knocked, and Frank peered in saying, "Francis is back."

    There was some shuffling of papers the stoppering of a bottle of ink and a reply of, "Five minutes, just need to get this last row of numbers done."

    Frank closed the door and they both waited in the quiet hallway.

    In the room he could hear the whispered complaints of someone having ''the worst timing'' and that they ''were always too early''. Fritz stopped listening and soon enough Jess opened the door and walked out of it with as much prim properness as she could muster. Which was quite a lot all told.

    Jess was pretty, she had always been so, with a long braid of auburn hair and dark, almost black eyes. Her face could be described as sweet, though it had an impish edge that she hid quite well under a pleasant smile. She was wearing the brown apron that was the uniform of the helpers, it suited her even though it was unflattering. Seeing her stoked a gentle flame in his chest, it was akin to the love he held for his family, if not quite the same.

    Jess smiled when she saw him and Fritz mimicked her excited demeanour, smiling back in turn.

    "You know there are others that could help you find Thea and Eli," Jess said.

    "None as comely and as capable as you," Fritz flirted reflexively.

    "Oh, stop," Jess said, flushing slightly and slapping his arm lightly.

    Frank grimaced, as he obviously found the display nauseating.

    "Shall I go get them for you, same as before?" Jess asked.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    "No, I just need to speak with Elliot," Fritz stated.

    Jess frowned slightly and Fritz amended, "I''ll also visit Amathea after."

    That seemed to mollify the woman and she led the way, saying that she thought he was likely studying.

    As they walked they chatted, Jess enquired as to how successful his Climb was. Although Fritz downplayed the true largess of their great haul, he did claim that he was wildly well-to-do due to his Silver Climb. It seemed to impress Jess, and surprisingly Frank as well.

    "Didn''t hear about a silver pulse," Frank said.

    "Well, the team I was with was full of first-timers," Fritz said. "Must have been covered by a golden pulse."

    "Must have been," Frank said suspiciously, though he let the conversation drop.

    Why is it that people always think I''m a liar? Can''t they just believe me? Fritz bemoaned inwardly.

    "And how have your studies and duties been going?" He asked into the silence.

    "Well, I''m almost ready to take the official scribe''s exam," Jess said.

    "Oh? What''s that?" Fritz asked.

    "It will qualify me for all sorts of scribe work, from keeping accounts to making official copies of documents and books."

    "Sounds wonderful," Fritz lied.

    "It''s steady, safe, well-paid work," Jess explained, seeing through his feigned approval in a heartbeat.

    "You know my offer still stands about leading you up the Mer Spire, even if it was only for your first level," Fritz said. "I''ll even pay the levy myself."

    Jess was silent for some moments before she muttered, "I''ll think about it."

    Fritz was about to try and convince her further when Frank interrupted him.

    "Fritz, let it go. Not everyone is suited for Climbing."

    Fritz glanced over Jess''s downturned face and saw the fear she was trying to hide. He decided to heed the advice.

    Soon they were before a door, Jess knocked briskly, then opened it. Within was a room with a large chalkboard covered in writing mounted on one wall. A tutor looked up from a desk and when Jess told him she was looking for Elliot the man waved the boy out of his seat. Elliot stood from his writing desk and quickly left the room.

    Fritz covered himself in dusk and stepped to the side, seeking to sow a little mischief in the shady hallway.

    "What is it? Is everything alright?" Elliot asked some worry writ plain on his face.

    Jess smiled and motioned to where Fritz had been standing.

    Elliot looked and his eyes slid right over Fritz.

    "What?" He asked confused.

    Jess frowned and looked herself, but she also couldn''t seem to see him.

    "Where''d he go?" Jess muttered.

    "He''s right here, using some Ability," Frank said, shoving Fritz forward.

    Something about his small stumble and having their attention directed at where he really was let them see him.

    Elliot hid a flinch and Jess jumped slightly.

    "Why?" Elliot hissed.

    "I was testing how attentive you were. You never know when a deadly beast could strike," Fritz smirked. It was, of course, because it was his duty as a brother to annoy him.

    Elliot rolled his dark brown eyes, they were so similar to his mother''s that Fritz''s heart ached for a moment.

    "What do you want?" Elliot asked, impatiently.

    "I need the signet ring, Eli," Fritz stated, getting to the point. It didn''t look like his brother was in the mood for his tricks, that, and he really didn''t have the time to spare. He''d make that up to them later.

    "Why?" Eli asked a note of accusation in his tone.

    "Because it''s time for the house of Hightide to come back," Fritz proclaimed. "And as its head, I require our ring."

    Eli just stared at him, then his face contorted in indignation.

    "What!? What do you mean?" He demanded, an unexpected frustration bubbling forth. "You left it to me. When you left, you said it would be on me to be the head of the house. For me to ''take care of''."

    "Things have changed," Fritz said blandly. "I am in need of some noble backing to further my goals. And what better backing than my very own."

    Although Fritz was trying to keep the conversation light with his simple explanation and his tone, it did nothing for Eli''s undercurrent of anger, in fact, it only seemed to stoke it.

    "What?" Eli said quietly, dangerously. He clenched fists that had no rings on them.

    "Nevermind. It doesn''t really matter," Fritz said dismissively, dropping his smirk. "I gave the ring to you for safekeeping. I see you don''t have it here. Where is it?"

    "After all this time, you come back just to rob me of my inheritance," Eli said through gritted teeth, seething.

    Eli''s anger sparked Fritz''s own fury. The boy didn''t know what he''d sacrificed to keep them safe, what he''d endured both in the Spires and out of them. Here he was in his cushy, dry orphanage and he had the nerve to accuse him of theft.

    "Our inheritance," Fritz said coolly.

    "Doesn''t seem that way," Eli retorted. "Will there be a single triad left after you''ve lost it all in one of your schemes?"

    Fritz frowned and Dusksong began to spit and sputter in time with his beating heart, he suppressed it, contenting himself with glaring at his brother who glared back just as furiously.

    Jess looked between the two anxiously and wrung her hands.

    "No fighting in the hallways," Frank said.

    "We''re not fighting," Fritz nearly growled. "This is simply a case of childish rebellion."

    "I''m not a child-" Eli began before Frank interrupted, holding up a hand and saying, "You should do this in private. This way."

    They followed, stewing in their respective resentments and each trying to be a stride ahead of each other. Jess trailed behind nervously. Frank led the three of them into an unused reading room and ushered the two brothers in before closing the door behind them. Fritz could hear Jess''s worried whispers through the wood but couldn''t quite make out the words.

    "Well!?" Eli shouted, snapping Fritz out of his distraction.

    "Well, what?" Fritz asked. "Just tell me where the ring is and I''ll be on my way."

    "Why should I?" Eli asked obstinately.

    "Because, as the eldest, it is mine by right," Fritz stated imperiously, his Dusksong agreed with him, adding a lead-like weight to his lordly tone. "And because I demand it."

    His voice washed over Eli, causing his brother''s glare to falter and forcing him to step back. Terror entered his eyes, and immediately Fritz felt a wave of guilt. He hadn''t meant to wield his Dusksong, not against his own family.

    "Sorry, Elliot," Fritz said softly, pulling back on that cruel power.

    Elliot''s eyes cleared and rage returned.

    "What exactly is it that you are sorry for?" Has asked in accusation, his hand grasping for a sword hilt that was not there.

    Fritz considered for a moment, then he sighed. There were things he regretted, though he had deemed them necessary at the time.

    "For everything," Fritz lamented.

    "Everything," Elliot repeated scornfully. "How very vague. You can''t even admit to one thing."

    Fritz''s guilt evaporated, boiled away by the heat of his anger.

    "You don''t know what I''ve done to keep you safe," Fritz growled, his brow bent in fury as he held his magic tight in his chest.

    "And I don''t care," Elliot interrupted, taking a step forward. "You fled into the rain, down into the gutters. Left me behind? And why?"

    "So I wouldn''t bring trouble down on you," Fritz said sternly.

    "So you could avoid the pain and the punishment for your crime," Elliot declared. "You abandoned us, Francis, out of fear."

    "That''s not true," Francis said. "I would have done anything for you. I would have killed for you. I almost succeeded. In killing. For you."

    Elliot scowled and shook his head.

    "That was for yourself. So you could feel the hero while being able to flee without remorse or second thought."

    It seemed Elliot had been giving this argument a lot of thought, that he''d been refining the resentment he bore like it was some bitter tonic. He had come to some extremely unflattering, unfair conclusions. Francis wanted to yell and slam his fist against the table, he wanted to shout down these spurious notions. But he could see how much his brother was hurting, that his old wounds were just as deep as his own.

    "It was all a part of your plan, to leave us behind while you gallivanted free of any responsibility or rules," Elliot continued, speaking as if he''d rehearsed his speech. Which he likely had.

    Francis let him continue, knowing his brother had to get this off his chest. This was bad blood left stagnant. And bad blood had to be exsanguinated. So Francis listened to Elliot. Not because he agreed, not because his brother was right, but because he needed it. They both did.

    "It was all for your freedom. From the guides, from your noble title, from anything and everything," Elliot recited until what was impassioned accusation became little more than a pained whisper. "Free from us."

    Francis let the silence fall and he embraced it. Elliot waited for an answer, likely he expected defiant denial or another angry outburst.

    "You read a lot of intentions in the actions of a grieving nine-year-old," Francis said while considering what his brother had said. While most of what he had raved about was nonsense, it wasn''t all untrue. A part of him could admit that much, though it pained him terribly.

    "What?" Elliot asked.

    "I was half mad back then," Francis explained. "From loss, pain, pressure, and fear."

    "What are you saying? Forgive you because you were half-mad?" Elliot bristled.

    "I''m saying forgive me. Because I was young and wrong to do what I did," Francis admitted. "I''m saying forgive me. Because I''m your brother and I love you."

    Francis could see his words strike at Elliot''s heart, could see his spirit shake. A fog of black thoughts and blacker feelings swirled around him on bitter winds. The truth of those words stirred something, the darkness was beginning to churn, to lighten in hues to resentful greys rather than blackest hate.

    "That''s it?" Elliot scoffed, trying to front an anger that was no longer in control of his heart.

    "That''s it," Francis agreed. "I''m sorry."

    Again they stood in silence. Both having little more to say.

    A bell tolled above them, signalling the end of the hour.

    "I don''t have the ring," Elliot said. "The Headmaster has it for safekeeping."

    "I told you to take care of it," Francis almost hissed. "Not to give it away to anyone who asked for it. What if it''s being misused?"

    "I trust the Headmaster, he was there for us," Elliot growled back.

    Not wanting to retread their argument and ruin what little good his apology wrought, Francis held his tongue.

    For once, Bert might say. If he were here.

    "Well, I must be off then," Fritz said, striding for the door. "Keep up the training. I''ll have to spar with you one of these days. See if you have any skill."

    He opened the door to see Jess''s perturbed face, then he spun and offered his brother a hand to shake.

    "I''ll see you soon," Fritz said.

    Elliot stared at the offered hand and looked away pointedly.

    Fritz could only smile bitterly, then he left for the Headmaster''s office.

    ---

    The visit to the Headmaster''s office wasn''t nearly as eventful or draining as his talk with his brother. The Headmaster himself had been there and willing, almost eager, to part with the signet ring.

    "Ah, of course, Francis, or should I say Lord Hightide," the older gentleman had chuckled when Fritz had asked for his family''s ring. It came as something of a surprise that the man was happy to give him the ring without an inch of intrigue or interrogation.

    "Francis is fine," Fritz allowed awkwardly.

    The man was as kindly as he remembered, and acted just as youthful as ever even though his bald spot had grown and his wrinkles were more multitudinous.

    "You should consider employing an advocate so your inheritance and all its legalities can be dealt with properly," Headmaster Harvest said with a smile as he opened a safe set into the wall behind his desk.

    "Is that so?" Fritz asked.

    "Unless you want to deal with all the bureaucracy yourself I would advise it," he replied. "One could even say: I advocate for an advocate."

    The man then chuckled at his own words.

    "I pray you wouldn''t say that," Fritz said with a mock scowl. "Although, do you have any recommendations?"

    "Hmm yes," the headmaster said, holding out a ring of rainsteel set with a silver seal.

    Fritz took the offered ring and slipped it on a finger, to join his other, more potent, rings. He took in his family crest emblazoned in silver, three cresting waves within a circle. Then he felt its solid heaviness, it weighed on his hand like it was made of lead.

    The headmaster noticed the Treasures on his fingers for what they were, and his eyes twinkled in interest. The man was a retired Guide after all. Soon the man''s eyes glanced over each of Fritz''s Treasures.

    "My, someone''s been successful," he observed.

    "Just lucky," Fritz replied with a smile.

    "Still no inclination to join the Guild?" The headmaster asked without much hope. He knew what had happened to his mother when the Guild came calling.

    When she was murdered.

    "No," Fritz said without much heat. He hadn''t much argument left in him.

    "A shame, you were talented and would make a fine Guide," Harvest said sadly. "But I understand. After what happened-"

    The headmaster''s words trailed off and he was quiet for three moments, then he spoke again, "Timothy Worth."

    "What?" Fritz asked.

    "The advocate, Timothy Worth," he repeated. "He''s here in the Upper Ring, right by Jeweller''s Row. Tell him I sent you."

    Fritz sensed no deception or duplicitous intent in the headmaster''s demeanour, so he decided to take the advice seriously. As he had when the man had warned him about the trouble he''d caused so long ago. It was that advice that set him to flee the ''justice'' that was coming for him, that had precipitated Fritz''s exile.

    The headmaster had told him that when he was taken by the storm guard he was likely to receive similar wounds to the terrible injuries he had inflicted with merely a light push and some tall stairs. As it turned out it was the captain''s daughter he had harmed so grievously. The one he had punished for tormenting Elliot, Amathea and himself.

    Fritz could have endured the slaps, the stinging cane and the cruel insults she''d levied. But when he saw those same marks and welts on his siblings, all up their arms, legs and on their faces, there was no way he could sit by and watch. The memory still made his blood boil.

    "Francis, are you well?" the headmaster asked worriedly. Fritz snapped out of his memories, and rose back into the moment.

    "I''m fine," Fritz said. "Thank you."

    "No worries, lad," Harvest said waving him off.

    "No. Thank you for taking care of Elliot and Amathea," Fritz said earnestly. "For shielding them from the consequences of... my actions."

    Harvest nodded slowly, a terrible look of guilt crossing his face, making him look a decade older.

    "I did what I could. I only wish I could have done more... for you," he admitted. "Alas."

    "Alas," Fritz agreed.

    "They''ll come for you again, I''m afraid," Harvest stated.

    "That''s fine. I''m strong now," Fritz said, smiling. "I also have friends."

    "We can handle them."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 4

    Fritz left the orphanage, though not before finding his sister and wishing her well. She was far more excited to see him than his brother and had smiled wide when she saw him.

    They had embraced, holding each other for some moments before Fritz explained he needed to go. He gifted her a small bone broach carved in the shape of a leaping fish, one of the small pieces he had claimed from the bronze chest loot. She smiled politely, obviously finding the ornament not to her taste, but happy for a gift from her biggest and best brother. As Fritz knew he was.

    Then he said a quick, quaint goodbye to Jess under the watchful, wearied eye of Frank. Fritz considered weaving another curse into the man, but didn''t want to deprive the orphanage of one of its guards, just in case there was some unexpected danger.

    As he was being escorted out by the guard and were nearing the iron gate, Fritz said, "Frank, I may have made some enemies."

    "Unsurprising. But what''s that got to do with me?" Frank asked.

    "Well, I know that many wouldn''t want to risk the wrath of the Guides Guild. But seeing as the Hightides are not well regarded, they may try to hurt my family irrespective of the orphanage''s protection," Fritz said with an air of nonchalance belying his keen worry.

    "Hmph," Frank grunted, running a hand over a stubbled chin.

    "Can I count on you to help, perhaps a word in the ear of the other guards?" Fritz entreated.

    "Fine," Frank said. "I''ll do what I can."

    Fritz smiled, pulled out some gold triads and handed them to Frank. Or attempted to.

    "What''s this?" Frank asked, frowning.

    "Something to make the increased oversight more palatable," Fritz smirked.

    Frank''s face twitched, then he shoved the triads into Fritz''s chest, hard, and spat to the side.

    "Keep your gold, Francis," Frank growled. "This ain''t a trade. It''s my bloody job and I care for these brats."

    As surprised as Fritz was, he snatched up the coins that fell when Frank took his hand away, not letting even one strike the ground.

    Frank coughed and regained his slouched composure.

    "Get out of here," he ordered.

    Fritz nodded, leaving in a dignified rush and vaulting the iron gate with impeccable grace. And although he rankled at the rough reception he''d received it gladdened him that at least one of the guards had something akin to a good heart, or something approaching morals.

    As he walked through the rain he smiled.

    ---

    Fritz''s next stop was on Jeweller''s Row and he quickly made his way there, umbrella unfurled until he was under the rafters and could see the glittering displays of the various storefronts. For some minute he merely admired all the gleaming stones and shining bands and chains of beautifully polished, precious metals.

    He noticed that some were obviously Mer Spire made, with the telltale fine scales or fish motifs it inflicted on its rewards. Others could have been made by the Rain Spire, though Fritz couldn''t quite tell them apart from the human-made jewellery as the styles were too alike. He wondered how many were Treasures or had magical properties.

    Fritz remembered the fist-sized, red gemstone he had secured in his pack and considered entering one of the shops to have it assessed and identified. He was at one of the store doors and about to enter when he felt a flash of inexplicable dread. He was being watched. He spun surreptitiously, pretending that he was listening for someone calling his name in the crowd.

    Scanning the various groups of patrons, noble and common alike, he saw no one staring in his direction. Then he peered over his shoulder at the storm guard posted on the corner and found that they weren''t looking in his direction at all. Which was a boon seeing as he recognised her as the guard sergeant that had caught him in Colette''s tailoring shop. He wouldn''t forget those hardened, yet soft brown eyes. If he recalled correctly, Louisa was her name

    If he had his coat he would have raised its collar to shield his face, but he had no such disguise, so he relied on simply staying out of her sight by slipping by and ducking into the advocate''s office he was here to visit.

    It was a small office with walls of stone and wood that were hung with small paintings. There was a couch made of dimpled grey leather to his right and a large, well-organised desk just a few yards in front of him. Behind the desk, there was a neatly-groomed, young man who looked up from some papers he was reading and greeted Fritz as he entered.

    "Welcome, sir," the man said brightly, levelling his clear grey eyes on Fritz and smiling.

    "Thank you, are you Timothy Worth? The advocate?" Fritz asked.

    "I am Timothy Worth, though not the one you''re looking for," the man said. He was entirely too chipper and when Fritz raised an eyebrow, the man continued, "I''m the esteemed advocate''s apprentice, and son."

    "Ah, well, I''m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Worth," Fritz said amiably, flashing a polite smile. "I''m Francis Hightide, is there a chance I could meet with the advocate."

    "You''re not one of our current clients. Alas, we find ourselves pressed at the moment and could not possibly take on any more litigation," Timothy said in feigned remorse.

    "If it makes any difference, Headmaster Harvest sent me," Fritz said, smiling through the rejection.

    "That does make a difference! Master Harvest is a good friend of my father and a wonderfully kind man," Timothy said his smile reappearing. "What do you require help with?"

    "Should I not discuss this with the advocate himself?" Fritz asked, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to have to explain his situation to everyone he met.

    "The more you provide now the smoother the meeting with the advocate will go. It will also allow me the time to study your request and the relevant law and histories," Timothy explained easily.

    "Well, it''s to do with inheritance and the return of House Hightide''s estates held in trust," Fritz said, repeating what he had heard, but not really understanding all the terms or what it meant.

    "Ah, I see," Timothy said, a frown creasing his pleasant features. "This may be a difficult one."

    ---

    Fritz left the advocate''s office. The experience had been both enlightening and deeply frustrating. The succession laws were old and some were merely enforced on the king''s arbitrary whims rather than anything approaching logic or order. Still, Worth had said that Fritz''s title as a Lord was safe, though he was less sure about any wealth or property that had been seized or ''put in trust'', which apparently was a fancy way of saying to some other noble was managing his inheritance with impunity and little oversight.

    Ostensibly, the holder of such trust was meant to maintain the estate, though even Worth agreed that it wasn''t likely the case for the house of Hightide. There was little care to be had for the disgraced, mostly dead, house, which made all that they had held easy pickings for a savvy, unscrupulous noble. Which in Fritz''s view was all of them.

    It wasn''t all tragedy. His signet seal still held power, or rather his noble authority, and he was easily able to complete the required writ to take over as head of his house. He just needed three noble witnesses to sign and seal the document and he would be legitimised. Until the house had its head he couldn''t pursue recovering his inheritance, but that was the least of his worries for now, as he could still use his signet ring to seal any agreements that needed such an official mark.

    He sighed, opening his umbrella and stepping out into the street, annoyed at having to spend two gold triads on the advocate''s advice and hating the king''s bureaucracy with all his heart. Why couldn''t these things be easy?

    With his mind marginally muddled by the newly added mundanities, Fritz strode forward only for him to have to stop as someone stepped into his path. He almost scowled until he recognised the woman as the guard sergeant he had seen and snuck past only an hour or two earlier.

    "You," she barked, glaring up into his face.

    "Yes? Is there something I can do for you guardswoman?" Fritz said blandly, frowning slightly and pretending not to recognise her.

    "Just making sure you''re not up to any trouble, ''Francis''," the sergeant said.

    "You''ll have to excuse me. But I don''t recall having any quarrel with the illustrious storm guard," Fritz said, feigning confusion.

    Louisa frowned.

    "You don''t recall?" She asked suspiciously. "You don''t recall breaking into a tailor''s shop, triggering the wards and knocking out one of my guards?"

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "Hmm," Fritz said, rubbing his smooth chin and pretending to search his memories. "Had I been drinking?"

    "Yes," she said.

    "Right! Captain Lisa, am I right?" Fritz asked, giving the woman his most charming, rakish, smile.

    "Sergeant Louisa," she corrected, apparently annoyed, flicking long, dark hair out of her face.

    "Of course, it''s all coming back now," Fritz said, embracing his Dusksong. "I must confess it''s all rather blurry. But my, what a night of passions!"

    Before the guard could respond to his exaggerated outburst, Fritz continued, "I thank you again for your discretion. Without your undeniable grace and wisdom, I shudder to think what would have happened. That small mistake may have shamed my family, or worse, disappointed the baroness."

    "Uh-huh," she said, searching him for any falsehood, she noticed his signet ring and stared at it intently as if committing it to memory.

    Fritz quickly clasped his hands behind his back.

    "Now, I''m terribly sorry, but I have many errands to attend to, and as wonderful as your company is I must be off. Good day, sergeant."

    Fritz stepped to the side and strode past. She didn''t stop him but he could feel her gaze on his back until he turned a corner.

    Fritz sighed, again, just one day in Rain City and he wished he was back in a Spire. At least things were simple there: Climb, survive the deadly trials, and get powers. Easy. Not all this tiptoeing around the various authorities be it the king, the guard or the Nightshark.

    If only secrets weren''t tied to survival.

    Still, the path was paved, and he had to walk it.

    Fritz straightened his back and made his way back to the row of rented houses. It took all of half an hour to return, and he was able to have his contract sealed within minutes. Just the heating of some black wax and the press of his ring and it was all official. The entire affair was anti-climatic in the extreme and hardly seemed worth all the effort he''d put forth or the pain he''d caused Elliot, and himself.

    Now it was done, he had somewhere safe-enough to stay, and he could take some time to consider his next moves and scheme away to his heart''s content. He knocked on the door to his new home. Cal answered the door and let him in. Fritz made his way to the lounge, where the team had congregated. All five of them had made themselves comfortable, some of them too much so, as Rosie was in an ugly yellow dress and splayed out asleep on one of the couches, snoring brutishly.

    It was odd, seeing them all relaxed and in casual clothing rather than on edge and armoured. The sight brought a smile to his face.

    Bert, sitting in an armchair by the fireplace and with little Dale on one shirted shoulder asked, "What are you smirking at?"

    "Nothing much, I merely glad you''re all settling in so nicely," Fritz said.

    "Not much else to do," Bert replied. "I''m bored."

    Fritz smirked at that.

    "Did you get the badge for Dale?" Bert asked.

    "No, you have to go to the drizzler''s main barracks and prove he''s not a threat through a bunch of tests. Then they give you a badge," Fritz said, summarising what the advocate''s apprentice had told him.

    "Bloody drizzlers," Bert grumbled. "But if it''s for Dale I can stomach a visit to that den of thugs."

    "Take some gold, both for the badge and for the bribes," Fritz advised.

    "I''ll go do that now. No use wasting daylight," Bert said, sighing, then standing swiftly and taking his leave.

    Then his head appeared again in the doorway, "We going out tonight?"

    "Definitely, we need to celebrate our glorious Golden Climb," Fritz agreed.

    "Tallies? Wouldn''t mind seeing a few friends," Bert suggested, waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

    "Is that some district tavern?" Lauren asked, her nose wrinkling.

    "Of a sort, the gem of the drowned district," Bert stated proudly. "Prettiest girls too."

    That seemed to get Lauren''s interest, though she still pretended at distaste.

    "It might be a little dangerous for a lady like you to go down into the districts," Cal said worriedly.

    "Ha! For them maybe," Bert exclaimed. "We''re Pathers now, Cal."

    "Bert''s right," Rosie said yawning and stretching. "Someone bothers me or Lauren, I''ll beat their heads in. Both of them."

    "Really, we should be more mindful of making waves," Fritz said. "Though I get the feeling that even if we were to hole up here for weeks in secret people would still talk. Nothing stops gossip."

    "True as the rain," Lauren agreed.

    "We''ll make a plan at dusk," Fritz said. "Be back by then."

    Bert nodded once and left.

    "Don''t you two also have business?" Fritz inquired of George and Lauren.

    "It can wait," Lauren said. "I want to be prepared when I return the Flame Rod and the Lens to my family. I''ll go in an hour or two."

    She returned to reading a book, though she tapped her foot restlessly.

    George shrugged. "I''ll get to it in time. Got everything I need here, excepting a forge."

    Fritz nodded, then found himself at a bit of a loss of what to do while he waited for dusk to come.

    He thought about going to find Sid, but that would take too long and who knew where she was or what she was doing. He put the idea out of his head, looked to George and considered asking the man for a quick spar in the yard, again he discarded the thought. He had just gotten clean and didn''t want to tire himself out too much before their celebration.

    He hummed to himself and sat in the armchair Bert had vacated, setting his pack to rest at his side and pulling the red gemstone from its depths. It gleamed in the firelight, flickering lines lit up in its internal facets and refracted on the carpeted floor in strange, fleeting patterns. It was one of these shapes that demanded his attention. He thought he saw some meaning. Stilling a shaking hand, he slowly turned the gem, trying to catch the light at the right angle to reproduce the effect.

    For a moment it appeared before fading again. It looked almost like a glyph. No, it was a glyph and he could read it "Illuminative". He tried to conjure the word again or any other, but had no luck. Fritz immediately realised the problem, the firelight was too unstable, flickering and dancing to its own tune. He needed a steadier source of light. Maybe some sort of mana lamp or perhaps-

    "Rosie, can I borrow your pick?"

    "Huh?" Rosie asked, spinning on him, her incongruent, flowery dress flaring, revealing scaly knees and shins over smooth, pale calves for a fleeting moment.

    "Your Starlight Pick. I need to test something," Fritz said excitedly.

    "Alright," she said, then she turned and left the lounge. He could hear her steps, her feet thudding on the, thankfully, solid stairs.

    She was back within a minute, pick in hand. Fritz took it from her with a smile and activated its Ability to shed light. Its head lit up like a distant star, white light washing over the room.

    He held up the gem and let the brilliance shine through the complex faceting. Where the light poured through, the floor and walls ahead of him were instantly covered in a dizzying display of scattered overlapping scarlet lines.

    Fritz smiled, then frowned as he found he couldn''t make any sense of the puzzling skein. He wondered if he had merely imagined the glyph he had seen before. Everyone in the room searched the maze of light in silence for almost a minute.

    "Pretty," Rosie said half-heartedly, her disinterest plain.

    "Quite," George agreed. "But what is it?"

    "What it is: is giving me a headache," Lauren complained. "Can you do that somewhere else?"

    Fritz moved the light away from the gemstone. The patterns shifted, blurred or sharpened, shifting with the distance and facets exposed to the pick''s radiance. He thought he could see another couple of glyphs that made sense, if only for a moment.

    "Cut. Setting. Shine," Fritz read out loud.

    "Hmm?" George asked.

    "I know what it is," Fritz said, trying to suppress his desire to jump up and down in delight.

    "What?" Rosie asked. "It''s not just a shiny gem?"

    "No, think about where we found it," Fritz said in self-satisfaction, having figured out a part of the gem''s secrets and doubly glad he hadn''t had it identified by a jeweller.

    "What... in the library right?" Rosie said.

    "Yes," Fritz affirmed.

    "It''s a book," Lauren stated, catching on quickly.

    "Not just a book, a Technique," Fritz corrected.

    "What kind?" Rosie asked.

    "Another Sword Technique?" George asked, his interest piqued.

    "I think not. Though if it is what I suppose it is then it will serve us well," Fritz theorised.

    Schemes and plans raced through his head at the implications and impending implementations.

    Oh yes, this would do nicely indeed.

    ---

    "Fritz! It''s Dusk! Stop playing with your jewels and get down here," Bert yelled up the stairway.

    Startled out of his experimentation with the gemstone, Fritz set down both it and the glowstone lantern. He covered it with a spare sheet, plunging him and the walk-in closet into blessed darkness. He sighed, unfortunately, he''d made little progress in the hours that had preceded Bert''s shout and his eyes ached, faint after images floating in his vision for a moment before fading.

    Although it was nigh impossible to read for now, he knew he was one step closer to divining the mysteries held within the stone. Fritz rubbed his eyes and smiled, relaxing the frown that had crawled onto his face while he had concentrated on figuring out how to make the Technique''s knowledge legible. While the allure of power called to him, he had to get out and let loose for a while. Hopefully, a bit of indulgence would help him think clearer, well after the hangover at least.

    He stood and left the closet, then strode out of his room and rushed down the stairs three at a time. Grace guided his steps and he smoothly slid into a stop only when he reached the lounge where everyone was gathered.

    Bert stood there a badge pinned to his vest, and Dale on his shoulder. Lauren had changed into a form-fitting, long green dress, and was wearing the pearls she had claimed from the bronze chest. She was beautiful, though she held herself aloofly and her eyes were angry, alight with that fine ring of fire. Her reunion with her family must have gone sour.

    Rosie stood beside her in a similarly fancy attire, this one a deep blue with a scandalously high slit up one leg. It complimented her scales and while she had less jewellery and stood a little awkwardly on some borrowed high heels, she looked nice.

    Cal and George were attired much as Fritz was, in a long sleeved shirts, patterned with scales, fish and clamshells. Dark trousers were held up by bone buckled belts. No one but Fritz appeared armed and their more bulky treasures were noticeably missing.

    "Where are your Treasures?" he asked.

    "In my Personal Pack," Cal said, a smug smile spreading over his features.

    "I''ve got mine," George said, showing his copperchange ring and tapping his arm. The thunk of metal clearly sounded from underneath his shirt.

    "Mine are also in Cal''s Ability thing. I can''t well carry around a hatchet and a pick while in a dress now can I?" Rosie groused. "Not if I want to attract a man. At least that''s what Lauren says."

    "We''re out to celebrate our climb, not to cavort," Fritz said.

    "Of course we are," Bert said disingenuously, grinning the whole time as he eyed Rosie.

    She gazed at him with a similarly eager stare.

    Cal noticed the stares and stepped between the two, saying, "What''s the plan then? Where are we going?"

    "Tallies," Bert stated.

    "Can we at least try a tavern up here in the Upper Ring first," Lauren asked sharply, frustration evident in her tone. Though her harshness was more a product of her current mood rather than any personal grievance.

    "We should definitely visit one of the Climber taverns up here," Fritz said amiably. "Then we can see where the night takes us."

    "Sounds like a good plan," George said.

    "Some other rules, do not talk about the eighth floor. And perhaps don''t go telling everyone you succeeded a Golden Climb. We don''t want to draw too much attention. Not yet. Tonight we''re relaxing and having fun not trying to catch the eyes of our betters," Fritz espoused.

    "I agree," Lauren said. "Try not to get too drunk either."

    "Why are we even bothering if we have to be so secretive," Cal groused. "Might as well stay in."

    "Because it''s Climbing tradition, we deserve it and we need it," Fritz stated.

    While he agreed that they would need to be careful there was no way he was going to let the shadows looming overhead prevent him from enjoying the few moments of freedom he had left. Soon the Nightshark would come for him, soon he would have to fight for what remained of his house, soon he would have to lay his plans and prepare his training. But right now, right now he had a night of his own and he was going to enjoy it. With his team, with his friends.

    His only regret was that his siblings couldn''t join him. And although there would be other Climbs to celebrate, there was that pang of loneliness of separation.

    "Let''s go!" Bert cried, slapping Fritz on the back and snapping him out of those darker thoughts.

    Fritz smiled, Bert grinned and Dale whistled.

    "Should you really be taking him out as well," Fritz asked.

    "Hmm?" Bert inquired with the raising of an eyebrow.

    "Dale," Fritz said gesturing.

    "Oh. You''re right he is a little young to go out drinking," Bert said. "I''ll put him in his bowl."

    "Bowl?" Cal asked.

    "A fish bowl. Nobles have all kind''s of hobbies, collecting rare fish is one of them," Bert explained, shaking his head as if he couldn''t fathom such a thing. "I filled it with a bunch of sea salt, he''ll love it."

    Dale warbled.

    "There there, I''ll be back by dawn," Bert said. "You watch the house."

    Dale whistled and waved its tendrils in the air.

    Bert bounded up the stairs, then down again, Daleless.

    The team gathered together excitedly, chattering and smoothing their fine garments, then made their way to the door as a group.

    They all cut quite the figure, if Fritz did say so himself. The women looked wonderful, as lovely as he''d ever seen them. The men were clean and their clothes respectable. Each were handsome in their own way. Even Cal looked decent, a far cry from the ragged wretch he had been, though the same could be said of both Bert and himself.

    "As always, follow me!" Fritz said, opening his umbrella into the rain and letting the ladies crowd under it.

    Then he led them into the dusk that would lead into a night of revelry.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 5

    Fritz and his team started their night at an establishment called the Crimson Carp. The large building was nestled in with the other taverns, inns and salons in the Circle of Revelry.

    They had made their way through the nightlife crowds, underneath the awnings and the bright mana-lanterns into the open door of the noisy tavern. Firelight washed over them as did the many talking voices, the clinking of glasses and mugs, and the jaunty music of a trio of performers. The sound of a flute, a harp and drums rolled through the crowded common room and Fritz and his team immediately seized upon a free table.

    They looked around, the tavern wasn''t the refined salon frequented by nobles, but neither was it the raucous almost-lawless drinking hole that could commonly be found in the districts. The Crimson Carp struck a balance between the two in an ordered, excited chaos. All but Lauren seemed somewhat out of their depths, judging by the nervous looks on their faces. They didn''t stand out as much as Fritz worried they would, as they were neither the most richly nor most poorly attired, but they did get a few curious glances from other tables and groups.

    Rosie was giddy at the attention she seemed to be receiving, attired as she was she was catching more than a few sly stares. Though that might have been because she was one of the only three merfolk in the room, and the only one in a dress.

    Soon a pretty waitress in a clean white apron approached, welcomed them politely and took their orders. Fritz sent for wine as did Lauren. George, Bert and Rosie all shared in some spirits, whisky being their preference for their first drink. Cal seemed at a loss but eventually settled on wine as well.

    "First a toast," Fritz said, once their glasses and bottles arrived. He didn''t stand and he limited his voice to their table. "To the team, to our victory. Each of you have proven brave, loyal and most of all powerful."

    "To George, his sword, and cleaving our foes.

    To Cal, his arms, and his most deadly of throws.

    To Lauren, her fire, and the scorching to bone.

    To Rosie, her hardness, and her scales of stone.

    To Bert, his toughness, and who never will fall

    To the team, our triumph, and to one and to all."

    The team''s expressions were a mix of wide grins and small smiles, they raised their glasses with Fritz.

    "And here is to Fritz, who can never quitz," Bert added as they clinked their glasses together.

    They laughed and downed their drinks.

    "I also have a toast," George said as they poured second glasses.

    "Let''s hear it then," Bert said, nudging the stocky man.

    George cleared his throat with a small cough, then said, "Here''s to our new wealth. Here''s to the Treasure. Here''s to the Climb, and here''s to many more!"

    They drank again.

    "I may have one too," Cal said sheepishly.

    "Go ahead," Fritz allowed as the wine began to warm his stomach.

    "I''ve never had much in the way of friends," Cal started as they all listened. "But I feel we all have a bond beyond that of uh, well, I don''t know. So here''s to new friendship."

    They drank again. Then Lauren spoke, her tone was proper though it had a bitter edge.

    "Here''s to new beginnings. Under no yoke. Free from the expectation of others."

    They drank, then refilled their drinks for the third time.

    "To gold. And dry rooms. And good food. And all the nice things!" Rosie said.

    They drank again and Fritz and the more sensible George only took sips this time, not wanting to get drunk too quickly. Bert, Lauren, Cal and Rosie, however, took no such precautions, swallowing down their various liquors with abandon.

    "To more drinking!" Bert toasted.

    Again, they drank and soon they were thoroughly enjoying themselves, listening to the music, chatting amiably and bickering lightheartedly.

    Fritz heard a cry of recognition and turned to see a familiar face. Dayne, a climber they had met in the sixth-floor well room, approached with a wide grin and drunken gait.

    "You fine folk made it through!" He yelled through the din. "Congratulations! You''ll have to let me buy you a round, come meet my team and some of our Climber friends!"

    Fritz felt no reason to object, in fact, free drinks sounded like a great gift, so he and his team joined the other more experienced climbers.

    "Surprised to see you out so soon," Dayne said. "Quick climbers! I see none of you were eaten by sirens."

    "We were able to avoid them for the most part," Fritz lied.

    Dayne nodded seriously. "A wise move. Able to steal any silk?"

    "Just some threads," Cal said, corroborating the story.

    "Lucky," Dayne grumbled.

    "What about you, did you end up Climbing any higher?" Fritz asked.

    "No, and our noble patron''s not happy about it," Dayne groused.

    "What happened?"

    "Decided to leave since we couldn''t find another member and our supplies were running low. And we didn''t want to buy more from those gouging Guide bastards."

    "Bastards," Rosie agreed.

    "Whoa!" Dayne said, "Someone got even luckier. You''re one of the merfolk now."

    "Yep. Like my scales?" She asked.

    "I do," he said.

    "Thanks," Rosie said. They looked at each other and smiled.

    The celebration continued, they mingled and talked, bragged and boasted, about what they''d seen and done. Fritz allowed it, as they were getting deep into their cups and little of what was said would be believed or even remembered. Dayne and his friends didn''t even seem to come to the conclusion that they had succeeded in a Golden Climb, or maybe they had and just didn''t mention it since Fritz and his team were keeping quiet about it.

    Fritz found the new company to be good, though he didn''t make much of an effort to learn names or make friends. His mind kept drifting to other times, other places and other people. It started to get late, many of their new acquaintances left and Bert decided it was time to move on to Tallies.

    Fritz agreed and soon they were striding in the rain down to the Sunken Ring gates.

    "Where''s George?" Lauren asked with a slight slur as she looked around at their current group.

    "We lost him to a big, strong man at the tavern," Rosie said, laughing.

    "He had a sword, a big one," Bert espoused.

    "Of course he did," Fritz said. "That man and his swords."

    "That would be Leon," Dayne said, his arms around both Rosie and Bert.

    "Gooood for him," Lauren said a skip in her step as she danced ahead, out of the cover of Fritz''s umbrella.

    They were making quite the ruckus, but it was late and the rain dampened their voices and the storm guard let them through the gate without complaint. They merely scowled or rolled their eyes as the team continued their journey.

    Fritz took a swig from his bottle of wine, then handed it off when Lauren grabbed at it. His bones burned coldly as the moonsilver lacing them combated his drunkenness. An annoying downside to a lifesaving Award. He''d have to drink at least three times as much to get even half as drunk. It wasn''t fair. He turned his slightly blurry vision to Bert, who seemed even less affected by the drink and was enjoying a bottle of whisky, sucking it down like beer and boasting at Dayne and Rosie.

    The walk through the dangerous streets took some time, maybe half an hour but was relatively uneventful. Seemingly the gangs knew to stay away from a group of well-dressed people, one of them obviously armed and all of them possessed of great confidence. It must have been obvious that they were Climbers and therefore too much for the cowardly thugs to menace.

    Only one group of idiots attempted anything, and it was Cal of all people who scared them away by grabbing their leader, lifting him over his head and throwing him with ease. Right into the great canal they walked beside. The man was washed away in a moment and his gang didn''t stick around to help him.

    Cal laughed and the sound had a vicious mirth that Fritz could appreciate.

    "Can''t mess with me now!" He cried. "I''m a Pather and you''re all squid-sucking, craven cowards."

    He laughed more, his voice ringing in the rain and they continued their trek, meeting no other trouble. The working girls winked and called out as they passed, the rent boys did also. Fritz led his team forward, waving away the escorts as they sought to entice his team with their solicitous promises and bared skin.

    They arrived at Tallies, it must have been midnight because it was quite busy, still, they were able to find a table, or rather buy one by chucking some silver to some rough-looking men whose contemptuous scowls turned to polite smiles when they saw the cool gleam of the triads. As Fritz and his team sat, he looked around the bustling room for anyone he knew, but there were too many people milling about and blocking his view. There was shouting and yelling, and there was a violin being played somewhere, likely in the more crowded corner.

    A cute blonde waitress arrived, her low apron showing off much of her generous bosom, while her dress ended a scandalous twelve inches above her ankles and revealed a fair display of smooth legs.

    Fritz hadn''t seen this woman before, but he hardly frequented the place enough to know all the waitresses by face and name. They ordered their drinks, skipping wine or beer and setting straight into spirits.

    Lauren asked for rum, saying she''d always wanted to try it as it was always mentioned in seafaring adventures.

    "It won''t be the same swill they serve on ships," Fritz said.

    "Well, I want that swill," she protested, resting her head on one hand and pouting prettily. "I want to feel like I''m on an adventure!"

    The waitress smiled, "We have some harsh stuff that Tallie drinks when she''s feeling nostalgic."

    "Great! I''ll take that... hey, you''re really pretty," Lauren said, staring up at the woman.

    "Thank you, I love your dress," the waitress replied, beaming down at her.

    Then the two were chatting eagerly, orders forgotten, so Fritz took it upon himself to Scout some more spirits. He stood and made his way to the bar. Bert followed as did Cal. As they moved through the crowd they both scanned the rough patrons.

    Bert found someone he was looking for and waved at her. She stood at one end of the bar, her black hair pulled back and dark arms crossed. Lynn, somehow, didn''t see him, even though she was busy watching the crowds for trouble. It seemed she was no longer a waitress but a bouncer.

    Bert elbowed his way through the milling masses and made his way to where she stood. He swept his arms around her and received a punch in the side and a knee in the gut as a reward. He staggered back, straightened up, then grinned. Lynn''s scowl slid into a smirk when she recognised her assailant. Then she laughed and punched his arm in a more friendly manner.

    Fritz couldn''t hear them, he could have if he tried, but he didn''t want to eavesdrop. Instead, he made his way to the bar, where Tallie herself was tending to it. She noticed him, finished pouring a drink, and made her way over on powerful, large legs wrapped in the velvety, black cloth of a long curve-hugging dress. Tallie was tall, with at least another foot of height on Fritz, and everything about the woman was large in a muscular yet feminine way. She lowered her head to meet his eyes and smiled warmly, brushing aside a strand of pale blonde hair.

    "Fritz, you''re back so soon," Tallie said in her melodic tones.

    "You knew I was gone?" Fritz asked suspiciously.

    "When I want to know something, word gets to me," Tallie boasted.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "And you wanted to know where I was?" Fritz asked.

    "Not particularly, but Sid did," Tallie remarked.

    "Sid came looking for me?" Fritz asked, trying not to show the giddy joy bubbling in his chest.

    "He did," Tallie said. "He was mighty put out that you didn''t say farewell. Never seen him care so much about something like that," she added, a mischievous smirk crawling up her red-lipsticked lips.

    "Well, I''m here now. Where is he? I can go find him," Fritz said one word tumbling over the other.

    That just made her deep black eyes twinkle in delight.

    "Not now, you''ll cause too much trouble in your state," Tallies said, her mirth giving way to stern warning.

    "I''m not that drunk," Fritz proclaimed, and it was mostly true, his bones were working hard to keep him sober despite his efforts to the contrary.

    "It''s not your drunkenness I''m talking about. There''s danger afoot and if you walk into his territory without thought you''ll likely cause trouble," Tallie explained.

    "I made a promise to help," Fritz declared hotly. "I don''t care if I get hurt."

    "It will be Sid who gets hurt, and those he''s taken to protecting," Tallie said in a low serious tone. "He won''t thank you for rushing in and ruining what he''s built, or rather, building."

    "Oh," Fritz said, deflating. "Then what should I do?"

    "Wait, watch and listen," Tallie said. "You''re a Scout, right? It shouldn''t be too hard for you."

    Fritz nodded, they didn''t speak for almost nine seconds while he thought.

    "I''m due to be dragged in front of the Nightshark," Fritz said.

    Tallie nodded.

    "Any advice?" He asked.

    Tallie pondered for some moments before speaking.

    "Take this," she said handing him a woven bracelet of pink beads.

    "What''s this?"

    "It''s a token and a warning," Tallie said. "It says you''re a friend of mine."

    "Oh. We''re friends?" Fritz asked stupidly.

    Tallie scoffed, then leant her face closer to his, so close their noses almost touched. Fritz almost thought she was going to kiss him, but instead, she spoke and her words came out low and soft.

    "I remember what you did for Vee, Lynn, Naomi, and Sid. And I know the truth of such a decision. You kept your promise, though it would mean losing your life. Most others would have baulked, many others would have turned traitor and slain those girls for a chance at survival. You chose to make good on your words in the most dire of dangers. That makes you good, that makes you a hero, that makes you... my friend."

    Fritz didn''t know what to say, so he stayed silent, for once.

    Tallie leant back and smiled.

    "Can I get you anything to drink?" She asked.

    Fritz smiled. "Something from-"

    "Portus-hai? We''re all out," she said with a wink.

    Fritz laughed and gave his and his team''s orders. While he waited for them to be poured he glanced around and noticed many of the waitresses had bracelets similar to the one he was just given. They had them on wrists, ankles, or tying up their hair, it was odd that he hadn''t noticed it before but he supposed that was because he didn''t make a habit of gawking at every pretty woman he saw. Like Cal currently was.

    "Why don''t you just talk to them," Fritz suggested, nudging the man with his elbow.

    "I uhh. I can''t," Cal said as he kept nervously glancing at some women in the corner.

    "Why not?" Fritz said. "You''re a Pather now. And look, your clothes are no longer rags. You''re at least three times the man you were before."

    "I still feel I''d need to be ninety times the man I was to have a chance with her. She''s so wonderful, and smart, and beautiful, and kind, and pretty, and good. She even helped me once when Rosie was sick. I had not even a copper at the time and she gave me a tonic, for nothing. I''m not worthy," Cal bemoaned drunkenly.

    "Worthy of whom?" Fritz said turning his back on the bar and searching the room for whom he was pining.

    Following Cal''s furtive gaze, Fritz found the objects of his affection and smirked.

    "Which one is your heart caught by? Ame or Naomi?"

    "Ame," Cal admitted morosely. "Wait do you know them?"

    "Everyone knows everyone down here in the Sunken Ring," Fritz said. "Though, I do have something of a friendship with Naomi."

    "Lucky," Cal grumbled.

    "Just go talk to her," Fritz said.

    "I don''t know what to say," Cal said.

    Fritz sighed.

    "Just say, ''Hi, thanks for helping my sister, Rosie. I couldn''t pay you back then, but I''m a rich Climber now and I''d like to make good on my debt.''"

    "Huh," Cal said, his sluggish thoughts plodding along. "Think that will work?"

    "Maybe. You don''t know if you don''t try," Fritz said with a shrug.

    When Cal bit his lip and didn''t move, Fritz slung an arm around the man''s shoulders and, forgetting his drinks, began to steer him toward the table where the two alchemist sisters sat.

    "Come, I''ll introduce you," Fritz said as if it were an offer and he wasn''t dragging the man into action.

    In the Spire, out the Spire, always the same.

    "Naomi! Ame!" Fritz cried when he reached their table. They scowled up at the intruders though their expressions smoothed into surprised delight. They both had bottle-green eyes and tanned skin, and were quite pretty all told. Naomi''s black hair had purple streaks, the two strands hanging over her face, while Ame''s hair was a gradient of midnight at the centre that lightened to sapphire at the edges.

    "Fritz!" Naomi nearly shrieked. She stood, banging a knee on the table as she did so. Ignoring the pain, she limped over and embraced Fritz. He returned the gesture, letting his arm fall from Cal''s shoulder. He held the woman for a moment, her head buried in his chest, before gently disengaging.

    Ame smiled knowingly from where she sat, sipping beer from a mug.

    "You''re back!" Naomi exclaimed. "Was it dangerous?"

    "It was," Fritz said. "Though as you can see, we survived."

    "We?" Naomi asked, then she turned to Cal as if noticing him for the first time. "Who''s this?"

    "Why, this is my friend and a member of my Climbing Team, Cal," Fritz espoused, slapping the man on the back.

    "Hello," Naomi said.

    "Nice to meet you," Ame said, smiling politely.

    "Actually uh... we have um, met before," Cal said, taking a step closer and raising his voice to better be heard.

    "Have we?" Ame asked.

    "I uh, yes, you once helped me," Cal said. "My sister was sick and you gave me a tonic. It helped... it helped a lot."

    "Oh," Ame said her smile becoming more genuine. "I''m glad to hear it."

    "I''d like to repay that debt," he continued. "I''ve got gold now. And uh... I''d also like to ahh... buy you a drink. If you''d allow it."

    Ame''s eyes glittered and she laughed. Cal''s face blushed as deep a red as Fritz had ever seen and he''d seen the man blush a lot.

    "So sweet," she said after stifling her mirth. "Come, sit by me." She patted the chair beside her and Cal, in his haste to oblige, banged his own knee against the table as Naomi had.

    That caused Naomi to snort and Fritz to smile, then they both sat, joining the two.

    They began to chat about this and that, Fritz regaled the two with a brief, and mostly embellished summary of their Climb, though it was without any of the many secrets they had to keep.

    He was having some fun until a hand slapped down hard on his shoulder. He looked up to see Lynn and Bert behind her.

    "Lynn," Fritz said in greeting.

    "Fritz, good to see you," Lynn said with a strained smile.

    "Where''s Vee?" he asked.

    "New job," Lynn said.

    "Oh?"

    "I''ve already told Bert, get the story from him," she said, her tone stern, but laced with a hint of worry.

    Fritz raised an inquiring eyebrow and the woman continued, "She''s fine, don''t worry about it."

    Fritz nodded and Lynn jabbed a thumb over her shoulder and at the bar. Tallie was leaning on the counter and seemed to be waiting for him to collect his drinks.

    "Whoops," Fritz said.

    He stood and excused himself, Naomi also made her excuses and joined him, leaving Cal with Ame as they talked.

    When he reached the bar and collected his forgotten orders he heard some cheers, whistles and cries. Tallie was glaring in the disturbance''s direction, so Fritz followed her gaze. His eyes alighted on an unexpected scene. Lauren had the waitress from before sat sideways in her lap, and they were kissing, ignoring the crowd and the noise around them.

    "That''s one of your team right?" Tallie asked.

    Fritz nodded.

    "Can you pry her off my waitress, she''s meant to be working," Tallie asked, though it was more a demand.

    "I can try," Fritz hedged, though they seemed stuck to each other like skulg.

    "You should do it before I get Lynn to," Tallie said.

    Fortunately, Fritz didn''t have to do anything as there was a piercing screech that split the room''s regular roar, forcing flinches and causing Lauren and the waitress to stop in their amorous affections. People covered their ears and one man fell down stunned a small dribble of blood leaking from one ear. The sound was one Fritz knew all too well.

    He looked for Rosie and saw her standing over the fallen man with fists clenched.

    "Don''t touch me!" She yelled.

    "He just wanted to see if your scales were real, you bitch," one of the fallen''s friends said. The speaker was a large man with the start of a gut and powerful, thick arms. He stepped close, then when Rosie didn''t step back from the aggressive movement, he threw a whole-bodied punch.

    The blow struck her face with a wet slap and a crack. Her head barely moved an inch and the man roared in pain, lumbering back and shaking out his fist. Rosie didn''t let him off the hook that easily, she slid forward, and in a familiar coiled and compact motion, pulverised the man''s crotch with a brutal uppercut. His yell cracked, rising into a whine and he fell with a thud that shook the floorboards. He cried and choked as he desperately grasped his groin.

    Rosie stared at the man, then at her fist, then up at the crowd. She grinned her shark''s grin. Then she cackled. Lauren''s own laugh joined her and did Bert''s guffaw.

    The crowd gave Rosie a wide berth and Tallie asked, "Another one of yours?"

    Fritz could only nod and smirk.

    "These are your last drinks for tonight I think," Tallie said, obviously displeased with the trouble, but not overly so. "You can leave after."

    "Can we get some bottles for the road?" Fritz asked. "Lauren said she wanted some sailor''s rum."

    Tallie tried to keep her face stern, but something about the request amused her and he could see a smirk break the serious surface.

    "Fine," She said, handing him a bottle of brown spirits. "But she''ll regret it."

    "I''m sure she will," Fritz said, taking their drinks.

    Luckily, when Fritz arrived at his table the waitress had noticed Tallie''s glare and hopped back to work, much to Lauren''s lament. Still, the team, joined by Naomi, drank and made merry. Bert and Rosie wrapped arms around each other''s shoulders and laughed about her first tavern brawl. Again, Fritz saw those red sparks, but they were out of the Spire and he could hardly object.

    Lauren proceeded to progress her intoxicated state and was clumsily complaining about her mother and her sister, and her entire household, even her sister''s pet cat. Fritz tried to listen but found himself distracted by thoughts of Sid. She had tried to find him and he couldn''t help but worry.

    He felt foolish, of course, they were meant to be celebrating, but always his mind wandered to her. Fritz had to wonder though, was Sid still the same Sid he had climbed with? He worried that perhaps their ill-founded and all-too-short romance was merely a product of their proximity in that perilous place. That it was all the danger and desire, rather than the real warmth and gentle affection he remembered.

    Fritz shook his head and his muddled mind. It had only been a week. And he''d know when he saw her again. Smiling, and after taking another acrid swig of the foul rum, Fritz corked the bottle and called his team to heed him.

    "Finish your drinks, it''s time to go home," Fritz ordered.

    "Home, never had one of those before," Bert mused.

    "Me neither," Rosie said, standing and dragging Bert up with her.

    "Lucky," Lauren bemoaned as she staggered to her feet, swayed and almost fell.

    "Whoa there sailor," Fritz said getting an arm under the woman and letting her lean on him.

    "Not a sailor. A Climber," Lauren proclaimed.

    "Then why do you stink of rum?" Fritz said.

    "I don''t stink. You stink," she replied poking her tongue out at him. "Where''s my waitress?"

    "Serving drinks, come, we have to go," Fritz said.

    "Where''s Cal?" Rosie asked.

    "With Ame, over there," Naomi said, pointing.

    "You know, you''re kind of cute. You should come home with me," Lauren said, eyeing the alchemist blearily, irises dancing with soldering embers.

    Naomi stared back, seemingly surprised and speechless at the forwardness.

    Fritz rolled his eyes.

    "Lauren, cease your insouciant wenchery," he said. "We''re going home."

    Lauren pouted.

    "Can''t make me. No one can tell me what to do," she mumbled as her eyes drooped and she began to doze. "No one."

    "Sorry about her," Fritz said. "She''s normally very, well, I wouldn''t say nice... though she''s usually more polite."

    "Oh, it''s okay, I''ve heard worse," Naomi said. "And uh.. I don''t mind... um going home. With you, Fritz."

    She began to blush, then looked away hastily.

    Fritz''s heart sped up, and for a moment he was at a loss for words. She was pretty, no doubt, and kind, for sure, and it wasn''t like he was promised to anyone. And there was no harm in a small dalliance. Not really. He barely had time to consider the offer before Bert broke in, saving him from having to let her down gently.

    "Fritz is still pining!" He cried. "You''ll get nowhere with him yet."

    "What?" Naomi asked.

    "Siiiiid," Bert gleefully said as if gloating.

    "Oh. Oooh," Naomi said, her pupils widening. "Really?"

    "Really," Bert said more seriously.

    "Of course," Naomi whispered glumly. "It would have to be her."

    She sniffed and rubbed at one eye.

    "I''ll go get your team member," she said suddenly, turning and striding off quickly.

    "Bert, look what you''ve done," Fritz growled, actually annoyed at his antics.

    "I did nothing," Bert said.

    "She''s hurt," Fritz said. "You hurt her."

    "She hurt herself," Bert claimed.

    Fritz was about to argue when Cal came wandering up with a pleased, if sheepish, grin plastered on his stupid face.

    "We''re going home?" he asked.

    "We are. Let''s go," Fritz said, lifting Lauren off her unused feet and throwing her over one shoulder like a sack of squid.

    "Weee," she mumbled before slipping into a deeper stupor.

    She was terribly warm, as if she had a fever and had been sitting by a furnace. Lauren hadn''t been sick, at least not that he''d seen, so Fritz quickly came to the conclusion that her abnormal heat was a combination of her fire magic and her new Award.

    When they were outside, Fritz brandished his umbrella and opened it, then he led the way home, leaving behind his anger and letting the lullaby of the drumming rain soothe his thoughts. They met no more trouble than they could handle. Bert had to punch a few men but there was no need for more than that.

    While they walked something occurred to Fritz and he asked Rosie, "When you got your Merfolk Strain choice, did you see any clauses about Authority or a Decree?"

    "Nah, nothin'' like that," Rosie answered a little slowly. "Just stuff like you have befriended many fish, influenced by havin'' scales. Stuff like that."

    "Oh, no faded glyphs?" Fritz asked.

    "Nope, but my scales passive moved into my Strain slots," she provided. "But Lauren said that''s normal."

    "Lucky you," Bert said. "They look great."

    "Thanks you," Rosie said, smiling and resting her head on Bert''s shoulder as they walked with arms around each other.

    They were at the gate into the Upper Ring in what seemed like minutes to Fritz''s pleasantly buzzing mind. The drizzlers had shut the gates, but opened them and allowed Fritz and his team to pass when he flashed his signet ring and threatened to have them punished for denying him egress from the Sunken Ring. A little of the cruel tones of Dusksong added to his orders didn''t hurt either.

    They respectfully bowed their heads and would not meet his eyes as he passed. It felt good. Although it soured his gut that not one of the guards challenged him even though he was carrying an ostensibly unconscious woman. Cowardly scum.

    Only when he was in the Upper Ring and close to their house was he accosted again by drizzlers. The rest of his team, save Lauren, who he still carried, had raced ahead nearly six minutes ago. They had said he was being slow, so he was left to deal with these ''guards'' on his own. He cursed silently.

    "What are you doing with that woman!" A familiar voice yelled.

    It took Fritz a second to recognise it, and he was not surprised to see one sergeant Louisa approaching him with thunder in her eyes and purpose in her steps. He almost laughed at the absurd coincidence. Then he did laugh when he saw her appalled face once she identified him.

    "Sergeant, we meet again," Fritz smirked.

    "Sir Francis," she ground out.

    "I''m afraid it''s Lord Francis now," Fritz arrogantly professed.

    "Is that so?" she said, evidently annoyed. "I fail to see why that matters."

    Fritz was gladdened by her possession of a solid spine, nobility or no. He untwisted his smirk into something more pleasant, something almost approaching a smile.

    "I''m getting this lady home," he said jostling Lauren, who groaned unintelligibly. "She''s had a little too much to drink. Though I''m not one to talk on that subject."

    "Quite so," the sergeant agreed.

    Two men from her squad formed up behind her, glancing at each other anxiously, clearly they didn''t want to get involved in noble business.

    "And how do you know her?"

    "She''s my Striker, on my Climbing team," Fritz said shaking Lauren again, she awoke properly this time and tapped him on the back, signalling him to put her down. He did, though she still leant on him for support.

    "Is this true?" Louisa asked Lauren far more gently.

    Lauren raised her eyes to the drizzler, then she smiled wide.

    "Yyou''re vvery prettyy," she slurred. "And that uniform. Dellliiightful. Am I to be made a prisoner, Miss Guard?"

    "Do you know this man?" Louisa asked, ignoring Lauren''s drunken attempts at seduction.

    Lauren looked to Fritz, then back to the guard and said, "It''s just Fritz, he''s annoying and thinks he''s a poet. But he''s good, apart from that."

    Fritz rankled at the description, though he didn''t challenge it.

    "He''s taking me home. You should come. Make sure I''m safe. Tuck me into bed," she nearly purred running a finger down the woman''s rainsteel breastplate. Then Lauren began to giggle uncontrollably, the sound soon stretched into a cackle.

    Lauren was a menace, triply so when she was drunk. Fritz couldn''t help but laugh with her, it didn''t even matter to him if he looked mad.

    Louisa sighed heavily.

    "Come on, get moving," she said with weary exasperation. "I''ll escort you."

    She waved off her squadmates and they returned to their patrols. Fritz considered fleeing, disappearing in the night so the guard didn''t learn where he currently lived. He decided against that course of action, knowing it would only cause more trouble. What danger could it really be if Louisa knew where he called home? They could find that out anyway.

    Fritz smiled, then led the way with the drizzler striding beside Lauren.

    She leant on the guard and kept trying to whisper into her ear, but Louisa was having none of her nonsense and held her at a slight distance. Soon they were home and Fritz left the sergeant by the gate. Lauren waved and blew her a kiss, before slumping over Fritz''s shoulder. Louisa frowned, turned, then left.

    He unlocked the door, then half carried Lauren to her room.

    "Thankyou, Fritz," she said sleepily. She yawned as she fumbled with the lock and key.

    He waved her off and found his way to his own room, then to his own bed, then he lay there.

    He grinned as rain drummed overhead and wood creaked.

    He laughed.

    Then he slept with a smile on face.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 6

    Cal woke up to the sounds of birds. Ducks quacked, pigeons cooed, and the other nameless birds let out their high trills. There was not a skulg to be heard. And he was dry and warm, clean sheets hugged him as he sat up and stretched. His head felt heavy and his eyes bleary, but that wasn''t from a rough sleep. He had drank too much last night and his gut felt sour. Luckily, he had left out a glass of water for himself before he fell into the unbelievably soft bed.

    The clear, cool water soothed his itchy throat. He just sat there for a minute taking in the sounds, enjoying the pleasures of a house and room of his own. A hundred small joys hit him all at once and it was... too much.

    He wept.

    He couldn''t stop it. He''d never felt such comfort, such safety.

    Eventually, the tears stopped and he chuckled at himself. Silently he berated himself for crying about such stupid things. Then he realised that he would be sleeping in this room every night. That this way of waking was not a one-off miracle, but his new life.

    He wept, again, choking out a laugh as he did so.

    Cal stood, got dressed, and wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. His stomach grumbled. He still felt sick from the hangover, but knew a little food would help settle his gut. And he had all the spices and food he had bought from the market. Another joy.

    He felt a little guilty, he knew that he''d likely overpaid for some of the things he had gotten. But Lauren hadn''t been there to help him haggle or warn him that he was getting ripped off, so he had to go with what he knew. And what better way was there to learn than to fail? At least that''s what she''d told him when she started to tutor him.

    She was beautiful and although it was easy to listen to her, and her explanations made sense, Cal couldn''t help but fall into a stupor when he was with her. It was like she made him drunk.

    Ame was the same, though he''d been actually drunk when he had spoken to her. He struggled to remember what they talked about. Probably alchemy, she was very interested in that. But mostly he just recalled her wonderful smile and her beautiful eyes, and her smooth skin and her vivid hair. Through that warm haze, he felt a cold stone settle in his chest, the feeling that he might have said something he shouldn''t have. Maybe he had spilled a secret.

    Cal shook his head, it didn''t matter right now and he couldn''t think at the moment. He grabbed his cooking Technique book from the bedside table and headed down to the kitchen. There he found his magic pan and a new pot. He sett them on the stove and made sure there was wood to burn. Then he was in the large walk-in pantry, picking out the produce for the recipe he''d chosen to make.

    Battered eel, chips and sausages. A simple dish. Greasy, but great for a hangover.

    In a fit of gratitude, he decided to make enough for everyone. He''d also lay out some bread, butter and a jar of jam. He was eager to try those last two treats and Rosie would be too.

    Finally ready, Cal started on breakfast.

    "I could get used to this."

    ---

    Fritz awoke, the faint scent of wood smoke then frying fish assailed his nose and stoked his hunger. He groaned as he sat up and stared around his room. The birds called and cried in the cacophony of morning songs they always sang. At least there were no skulg, they were horrible.

    Less horrible, though still not ideal, were these scratchy linen sheets, he far preferred his sirensilk ones, even if he had to admit having bedsheets made of the sublimely smooth silks would have been the height of decadence. He supposed that only the king or maybe the most wealthy dukes and duchesses could afford such luxury.

    Fritz slipped out of bed, letting his Grace guide him so he didn''t wobble too much as he stood on aching legs. His shoulder also felt sore and he rapidly remembered why. Carrying Lauren. He laughed and it came out in a croak. The sound was too loud and caused him to wince. He needed to find an anti-toxin remedy, somehow he''d drank enough to surpass his bone''s moonsilver lacing and those purifying properties it provided.

    After dressing, he stumbled into the hallway, smoothly, then knocked on Bert''s door hoping he knew where they had stored the spare remedies. There were hungover groans in more than one voice. Fritz turned and set off down the stairs, deciding he didn''t want to see what was on the other side of that door, sparing both his eyes and his sanity.

    He straightened and slowed at the base of the stairs, then strode into the kitchen.

    "Cal, my good man," Fritz said with a small rasp. "Where are the medical supplies stored?"

    Cal looked up from a streaming pot and smiled wide, he looked happier than Fritz had ever seen him. It proved there was a fine man underneath all that grumbling and grousing. It suited him.

    "They''re being stored in the pantry for now," Cal said.

    "Good, have we got tea?" Fritz asked.

    "We do. Got some yesterday," Cal said. "And the kettle has almost boiled."

    "Did I say good man? I meant great man," Fritz said.

    He seized upon some doses of the anti-toxin and grasped the tea tin right by them. He left the pantry and the kitchen, then laid them out on the dining table. He swallowed down a dark pill with a glass of fresh clear water. He sighed and waited for the remedy to work.

    Then, once he had felt his head clear, he rejoined Cal in the kitchen and made tea, somewhat poorly. Although Fritz was a great enjoyer of the delectable drink, his skill at stooping it had yet to catch up to his discerning palate. He did, however, graciously pour out some for Cal who didn''t complain at all about the imperfect taste.

    "That''s good," Cal said.

    "Thank you," Fritz said. "Though my brewing leaves something to be desired."

    "Tastes fine to me," Cal said.

    Fritz would have normally chided the man, he was an urchin and as likely to be able to tell the difference between good tea and bad as a horse was.

    "Brewing," Cal muttered frowning. Then his face paled and he glanced over to Fritz with worry.

    Fritz sighed.

    "What is it? What have you done?" He asked.

    "Uh.. I may have umm... spilled the beans... to Ame... about that Technique we have," Cal admitted.

    "Which Technique?" Fritz asked quickly. "What did you tell her?"

    "I uhh, told her about the raider scrolls. Not how we got them, but how we had them. And they were just sitting there in my Personal Pack and she seemed so interested so I just... you know..."

    "Showed her a scroll?" Fritz asked, relaxing as he leaned on the kitchen counter.

    "Yeah," Cal admitted. There was quiet for a minute while Fritz enjoyed another sip of tea and Cal cooked.

    "Are you mad at me?" Cal asked.

    "I have all the right to be," Fritz said. "But no. I was intending on entering into an agreement with those two anyway. It could be mighty beneficial to have two such talents working for us. I was just waiting to run it by the team first."

    "What''s that?" George asked, his head appearing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room.

    "Plans for the future. We''ll go over it later. Come have some tea," Fritz said.

    "Sure," George said, joining them.

    Bert and Rosie thundered down the stairs next, together.

    Cal and Fritz frowned at them, but the two were grinning smugly and totally unrepentant. Still, no one said anything to their dumb, pleased faces. Fritz knew doing so would just prompt Bert to boast about the disgusting details of their debauchery.

    "Breakfast is ready, get plates," Cal said.

    Soon they were all eating ravenously in the dining room, too hungry for chatter. A terrible moaning came from the stairway and Lauren trudged down the steps like her feet were made of lead. The team couldn''t help but smirk at each other as she stumbled into the dining room. Her hair was a mess, she squinted blearily and looked like she was about to be ill.

    She sat in a dining chair heavily and dropped her forehead onto the table groaning and shielding her eyes from the light coming in from the rain spattered windows.

    Cal rushed to her aid, providing her a glass of water, one of the remedies and a plate of fried goodness. She drank the water and took the remedy muttering unintelligibly, but pushed the plate away.

    "Look''s like someone had a lot of fun," George observed with that rare sly smile he sometimes wore.

    "You don''t know the half of it," Bert said. "She made friends with one of the waitresses."

    "Is that so?" George asked.

    "Noooo," Lauren groaned, her face still hidden and her ears reddening.

    "Yes indeed. But you also missed Rosie''s first tavern brawl," Bert added, sparing the woman more embarrassment.

    "A fight? Are you okay?" George asked.

    "Yeah, not a scratch. I''m tough," Rosie said, through a mouth of bread, butter and jam. "Hurt them both good."

    "I doubt that man you punched will ever piss straight again," Bert laughed.

    Rosie snorted then began to choke.

    "Is that really appropriate talk for the dinner table?" Lauren grumbled.

    "It''s breakfast not dinner," Bert contended.

    "Urgh... you know what I mean," Lauren said, lifting her head, her eyes sharper and that stricken look of sickness receding slowly. "Could you pass me the bread and jam?"This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    "Of course," Fritz said, passing her what she requested.

    They ate in some quiet once Cal had joined them, focusing on consuming rather than conversation.

    Fritz found the meal strangely nostalgic, even comforting. Although it was unlike his breakfasts when he was still a young noble, being far less refined and stuffy, he found it had a certain sense of closeness to the team. It was also completely different from scrounging and scarfing whatever he could survive in the street, far less of that pressure, desperation and shivering. Guilt bubbled briefly, he knew that down there in the Sunken Ring there were children suffering as he once had.

    Could he find a way to help? He set the thought aside for now and pushed away that self-admonishment. He had to worry about his own skin for now. Though it wasn''t just his own skin he had to worry about, he had his team, his siblings, and Bert to keep safe as well.

    "Stop scheming and eat, Fritz," Bert demanded.

    Fritz was about to protest that he was eating, but found he had barely touched his battered eel and he''d just been staring at his plate. He decided to listen to Bert for now.

    When they had finished breakfast the plates were cleared and stacked. Bert took the bucket of table scraps and carried it up to his room, ostensibly to feed Dale.

    "How do we decide who does the dishes?" Cal asked.

    "What?" Lauren asked, perplexed by the simple question and seemingly feeling much better now that the anti-toxin remedy had come into full effect.

    "We could draw cards again, or have some kind of rotation," George said.

    Lauren looked at them like they were mad, then coughed and smoothed her features.

    "We will have a servant do it," she said as if it were obvious. "Do we not have one already?"

    "I think not, it wasn''t stipulated in the contract," Fritz said.

    "Stipulated?" Rosie asked.

    "Written," Fritz said. "Sorry, spent too much time with an advocate yesterday. He must have rubbed off on me."

    "He better not have, what would Sid say?" Bert asked, rejoining them in the dining room.

    George snorted, Lauren made a face and Cal blinked. Rosie stood up and began to walk out, she grabbed Bert by the shirt as she passed him.

    "Let''s go have a shower," she said. Bert obliged eagerly, waving and grinning at the still-seated and somewhat disgusted team.

    They were gone for only nine seconds when Lauren asked, "Are we going to allow.... whatever that is?"

    "I think we must," Fritz said. "Forbidding it would simply stoke the fires of contrarianism that burn within Bert. And I''m not sure it would deter Rosie either."

    "What?" Cal asked.

    "They''ll continue just because we say not to," George said sagely.

    "So what we just let him and my sister..." Cal trailed off, looking mortified and a bit sick.

    "They''re free to do what they want," Fritz said. "We don''t have to like it, but we have little right getting in the way."

    "I thought one of the rules was no entanglements in a Spire," Cal said sullenly.

    "It''s creating new entanglements in a Spire that is forbidden," Lauren corrected. "Married couples and otherwise promised peoples go in together plenty. Though people don''t always follow those rules anyway. What with all the danger and excitement, it''s easy to forget."

    "Won''t it get in the way of climbing though?" Cal asked.

    Fritz shrugged and turned to see Lauren thinking the question over.

    "It could, though I doubt it''ll be a serious danger," Lauren said. "Will it even last?"

    "You don''t know this yet, but you will. Bert can be, well, fickle, and somewhat frivolous when it comes to bedfellows," Fritz said. "A love-typhoon if you will allow it."

    "I won''t, though go on," Lauren said.

    "As it stands I''m sure this will blow over soon. I just hope Rosie ends up unbuffeted by the whirlwind," Fritz espoused.

    "She''ll be fine," Cal said, frowning. "She''s tough."

    "Anyway, shall we cease the gossip and present our plans for the day?" Fritz asked.

    "Sure," George said.

    "Lauren, are you able to start selling or great haul today?" Fritz asked.

    "Not yet," she admitted. "I''ll need to check the markets and see what the prices are like. Maybe make some deals here and there."

    "Are you fine doing that yourself?" Fritz asked.

    "Once I''ve recovered and had my bath, I should be capable of roaming the Thoroughfare Market alone. Although some help wouldn''t hurt," Lauren said. "Does anyone want to accompany me?"

    "I would love to accompany you," Cal said quickly, pouncing on the offer.

    Lauren nodded, wincing a little from the pain. She rubbed the back of her head.

    "I feel wretched. If you''ll excuse me I''ll rest for some time," Lauren said, standing and taking her leave.

    "How about you, Fritz?" George asked. "Will you be retrieving what you commissioned from my father, today?"

    "Hmm. I think so, why do you ask?" Fritz inquired.

    "I would like to go with you. I need to return and tell my father what''s happened," George said. "And I don''t want to do it alone."

    Fritz nodded. Though the task wasn''t high on his list of things to do this day it would have to be done eventually. And if George felt uneasy it should be remedied quickly, Fritz could lend the man some support.

    "We''ll go as soon as we can, I have many many things to do and I want to get started as soon as possible," Fritz professed.

    George nodded seriously.

    "I''ll go have a shower," he said, leaving only Fritz and Cal in the dining room.

    "So I''ll leave this for the servant?" Cal asked, glancing at the dirty dishes.

    "I think not, we''ll do them this time," Fritz said, standing, then helping the man with the chore. It was okay to get one''s hands dirty, some of the time.

    Once they were done they each showered in the outside stalls and made ready to go about their errands. Fritz gathered up the shark and eel skins, he wanted to get them treated properly by a tanner and much of that stinking work was done in the steam district where the Anchorwrought smithy was also located. It would only be a small detour and the quicker it was done the quicker he could have some new armour.

    George was waiting in the lounge and wearing his half-plate armour when Fritz finally found him. He looked on edge, like strained steel under a great weight. Fritz nodded to him and they left for the gates to the Sunken Ring without a word.

    The rain was light and warm this day, the wind blew powerfully, pulling at his clothes. Fritz opened his umbrella and led the way forward.

    They joined the surging crowds, eventually making their way to the steam district''s gates, then passing into the district itself. Plumes of white and black clouds spilled into the sky, staining the rain and filling those falling drops with foul muck. George stepped closer to Fritz to take more advantage of the umbrella''s protection.

    The man gave Fritz an apologetic grin.

    Eventually, they found their feet before the door of the Anchorwrought smithy. George gulped then set his features into a fearsome frown.

    "Would you like me to go in first?" Fritz asked.

    "No, can you wait here?" George asked. "I would like to face him alone."

    Fritz shrugged. "Do what you must. I''ll wait."

    George nodded gratefully, then strode into the smithy.

    Fritz expected to hear shouting or a flurry of fierce reprimands but he heard nothing of the sort, just tense silence. Curiosity getting the better of him, he wrapped himself in dusk and peered through the open doorway.

    There he saw the two men simply glaring at each other with near identical flinty, yellow gazes. The older man, Bruce, moved first, leaping over the counter and charging his son with all the care and candour of a raging bull. A table laden with axes was knocked aside, the blades falling, then clanging on the stone floor.

    Flesh met steel with a thud, then there was a deep belly laugh as father embraced son. George seemingly didn''t know what to do with himself and returned the hug warily.

    "You fool!" Bruce yelled, still laughing with a toothy grin that was missing a few teeth. "You''re back!"

    "I am," George said

    "You''ve made me proud. Didn''t know you had it in you to run away and Climb a Spire. Hah! You got some spine, Boy!"

    "You''re not angry?" George asked.

    "Course not, Climbin''s a great thing," Bruce said. "How high did you Climb? Get a Path?"

    "I have my Path, but I can''t say more than that," George said.

    "Why not?"

    "Captain''s orders," George answered mysteriously.

    "Hah. Fair enough, find any good metals?" Bruce asked jovially.

    "No metals, apart from some lightning eel teeth," he said. "But I''m not sure if the team can part with them."

    Bruce nodded sagely.

    "Have you come back to stay?" He asked, changing the subject. "Or can I finally use your room for storage again?"

    "I have a new place, for now," George said, then he went into something of an explanation of his doings and plans for the future.

    Fritz left them to it, searching for a tannery to treat his many monster skins.

    He decided first to visit a couple of leatherworkers to find out who was best trusted to handle such materials. Discovering that they were mostly of commensurate quality, and getting some recommendations and warnings, he decided to heed he made his way further into the district and towards the sea.

    He found the tanneries quickly, mostly by following his nose, then found who he sought. A Tanner by the name of Grohle. He was a foreigner who had settled in Rain City. The story went that he was rescued from a Krakosi slave ship by the king''s navy and though he found himself free he was unable to return home due to the incredible expense and risk of crossing the seas. So he plied his former trade and did it well. Then he was married, had children and no longer felt the need to leave.

    Fritz heard this story from no less than three people, including the man himself when Fritz inquired about his services. It seemed Grohle liked the notoriety and the whispers that he knew a tanning Technique from faraway lands. When Fritz asked about such rumours the dark, hairy man merely smiled at him knowingly.

    All in all, Fritz paid two gold triads to get the hides and skins treated, those that were salvageable that is. Many were too rotten, soggy and spoiled to be anything other than waste. Still, Grohle guessed that there was enough for at least one full suit of each type, maybe more if they only needed vests, leggings and boots.

    "Will some of the properties of the monsters remain?" Fritz asked.

    "Maybe, if you go to one of the fancy leatherworkers in the Upper Ring. Some of them will have some skill in enchanting," Grohle said. "Not to the quality of Deskaen runed leather, of course, but I''m sure they can sew up something passable. You Rain City folk are good at making do with the little you have."

    Fritz smiled and handed the skins and hides over. "How long will the tanning take?"

    "It''ll take a couple of weeks, maybe a month before they''re ready," Grohle said.

    "Any way to speed that up?" Fritz asked flashing another triad.

    The man shook his head. "Not if you want it to be done right."

    Fritz supposed the man knew his business and left an address so he could be reached as soon as the skins were done. Then he was off, back to the smithy.

    He found George standing by the door and waiting.

    "Where''d you go?" He asked.

    "Just sorted out the skins and hides, didn''t want them to rot any further you know," Fritz said. "And I didn''t want to intrude on you and Bruce."

    George nodded solemnly, then smiled and gestured one thumb over his shoulder.

    "Your commission is ready, and it''s quite flashy. Not sure it''s suited to a Scout," George said.

    "I''m hardly a normal Scout," Fritz said self-assuredly.

    George smiled at that. "No, I guess you''re not."

    Fritz pat the man on the shoulder and strode into the smithy.

    He was greeted with a great grin and Bruce couldn''t wait to boast of his work. Fritz had to admit it was a beautiful sight and was more eager than ever to show it off. Unfortunately, the moonsilver it was made of was mirror-bright and far too conspicuous to carry about, so he had the man cover it up for transport.

    Fritz received his cloth-wrapped package, it was far less heavy than he thought it would be, still, it was a little awkward to carry and he wouldn''t be able to do so on his next task, which was checking his hidden safe out in the drowned district.

    He asked George to carry it home for him.

    "Just put it in my closet. I''ll want it close by," Fritz said.

    George nodded, setting off without complaint with a slight spring in his step.

    Fritz smiled at the man''s back then made his own way out of one district and into another, stink and steam replaced with floods and forgotten places.

    He entered the drowned district clad in dusk and a slight pressure fell on him, he stretched his shoulders and it seemed to ease, though not entirely. He slunk down alleys and a creeping dismay accosted him when he looked on the sickly starved faces of the poor and desperate.

    As he travelled over roofs, across beams of wood and arches of stone he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. He pulsed his Awareness, searching for the set of eyes he knew was beholding him. There was nothing, but birds, rats and skulg. Still, Fritz was cautious and to doubled back, then took twisting routes to out whomever was shadowing him.

    Again he caught no one, save one foul, scaled rodent. It swam under him, then scampered on webbed feet into a pile of refuse. It glared at him with dark beady eyes filled with malice.

    "Piss off," Fritz hissed at the rat, and it scrabbled further into the filth.

    "A smart rat, well I''ll be damned," Fritz said to himself. "Almost as ridiculous as a smart snail-"

    Something clicked into place in Fritz''s mind. All those small details, and now obvious hints coming together to form a theory.

    What if the Nightshark, like Bert, was some kind of beastmaster? What if the birds and other vermin could be spies? With that concerning thought, new questions and answers came to light.

    His stomach dropped at the realisation, a stone of dread settling in his gut. He recalled that there was a stromhawk perched by one of the tunnel entrances and remembered how they had treated it. Now he suspected, as he should have before, that the bird, Bastard, had been watching the alley rather than just nesting there. If his guess was correct, the Nightshark would already know about his safe, or would eventually.

    Fritz shook his head, he didn''t remember being followed by the hawk, though any number of other birds or even rats could have seen him.

    He decided to only check the grounds, or rather waters around the flooded manor. There were no people to be seen, but there, sitting on the patchy, tiled roof was a seagull. It was strutting this way and that, ostensibly keeping an eye out for fish, though it might be on a mission to keep watch.

    Jittery cold slithered through him, and his skin crawled. However paranoid he had been in the past, it seemed it wasn''t nearly enough to fully fool the Nightshark.

    Instead of venturing forth to check the safe and risk being caught, Fritz instead changed tack and set off to find his other, far more meagre, stashes and recover what trinkets and clothes he had stored away. That course of action should look far less suspicious than simply turning around and leaving empty handed, especially as there was one such stashed bag nearby, stuffed just between a rotting windowsill and a wall.

    With that plan in mind, he left. It was an easy thing to gather all the odd coppers and small items he had stolen and stashed around the drowned district. He also found and liberated his fancy purple coat, though he didn''t put it on right away, he would wait until he was in the Upper Ring for that.

    Armed with new insights and needing to warn his team, he made his way home. Before he left completely, he did, however, take the time to speak with some of the local gossips and get a handle on what was happening in the gutters.

    It was bleak and bloody, and just listening to the tales of the ''Scarlet Storm'' and the new upstart gang boss ''Sid Smiles'' made his heart ache. Then his chest burned with barely controlled fury when he learnt of the ongoing siege of her territory and the whispered approach of a gang war.

    "The Nightshark won''t let a war happen," One gossip had said. "They''ll have to get rid of this new kid. Too big for his boots he is. Keeps stealin'' whores I hear, trying to build his own harem I bet. Takes kids too. The sick bastard. They also say he has a red scarf. And folk are beginning to whisper that he and the storm are the same. But that''s all rumour and maybe one he started himself to seem deadlier than he is."

    Fritz seethed inwardly at what he heard. All too much scorn and a lot of derision. Not many believed that Sid was up to any good, their cynical husks for hearts just couldn''t accept such a thing.

    "It''ll all be over in a month," another gossip stated as if they had all the facts. "Nothing ever changes. Nightshark makes sure of it."

    Fritz wanted to yell at them, and deny their hopelessness, but knew it would do no good. Unless they saw the truth for themselves they''d blind themselves with bleak platitudes about how it''s always been and always going to be. Embracing the dark, siren song of despair that demanded that you accept: "That''s just how it is. Get used to it."

    That old lie.

    Fritz was about to stalk off and break the siege himself when he felt he was being watched, again. He stopped in place and cooled his temper into something more cruel and deliberate. A cold knife for when he later hesitated, like he knew he would.

    Although he desperately desired to find Sid and perhaps speak to her, he instead heeded Tallie''s advice to watch and wait. He''d be no good so riled up anyway.

    After a long exhalation, he straightened, strode to the Upper Ring gates and left the desperate district behind.

    Fritz had things to do and power to seize. Once he had that, then he could help.

    He just needed more power.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 7

    Fritz arrived home in a rush, and as soon as he was through the front door he strode into the stairway. He called a team meeting with a shout and rang a fist-sized bell that hung from one of the walls. The team soon gathered, peering over the balustrades with expressions varying from interest to annoyance. Lauren clutched her still-aching head. Fritz motioned to follow him and they obeyed.

    He led them to the lounge, and after he shooed a pigeon from a windowsill and searched the room for any potentially hidden pests, he explained his theory that The Nightshark is a beastmaster. He paced as he did so, and likely sounded like some sort of madman as the words galloped from his lips.

    It was met with some incredulity and more than a little scepticism, but when he insistently laid out his reasoning they at least humoured the concept. He spoke of how the Nightshark was said to always be watching, to have a net of spies so vast that it covered the entire Sunken Ring. Yes, it could just be any sneak thief or gutter rat but what if it was really was the literal gutter rats? Or perhaps the birds who flew overhead.

    The more he talked the more they agreed with his assertion.

    "Is that why Jane and Toby were so excited for the eel egg?" Bert asked.

    "Yes, they likely thought it would be a good bribe or tribute," Fritz said.

    "I have a thought, Fritz," Bert said.

    "Unprecedented, though go on," Fritz allowed.

    Bert mock scowled, but continued, "That stormhawk we kidnapped for a while, you know, Bastard."

    "Right, I remember it," Fritz said, rubbing absently at the thin scar on the back of his hand.

    "You said not to kill it," Bert said.

    "Yes, it felt like the wrong thing to do," Fritz agreed.

    "Hmm," Bert hummed. "If it was a bonded beast, like you''re saying, then you were right."

    "What do you mean? Do you think the Nightshark would have known if we had hurt it?" Fritz asked.

    "If we hurt it? Maybe. If we had killed it? Definitely," Bert said.

    "So you''d know if Dale died?" Fritz asked.

    "Yep," Bert said, patting Dale''s shell which was stuck solidly to his shoulder. The snail was currently withdrawn, likely sleeping, and thankfully didn''t unfurl at the touch.

    "That''s useful knowledge," Fritz said.

    "Maybe for you guys. But why are you telling us all this?" Cal asked. "We didn''t want to get involved in this Nightshark stuff, remember?"

    Fritz felt the small sting of shame, Cal was right and this secret, if it were true, could lead to some danger to those who held it. He brushed the concern away. It was better that they knew.

    "You''re not involved past your association with me," Fritz assuaged. "Though I think it will be of benefit that you are aware of this small suspicion of mine. And keep in mind, it''s just a suspicion, not a surety."

    "Uh-huh,'' Cal said shifting in his chair uncomfortably.

    "It''ll help keep your secrets safe," Fritz said. "Just make sure there''s no birds or beasts around when you talk about anything sensitive."

    "Easier said than done, what if it works on bugs?" Cal pointed out.

    The comment stopped Fritz in his tracks and he frantically scanned the room for anything creeping on the walls or ceiling.

    "Nah, can''t be bugs," Bert claimed.

    "And how do you know that?" Fritz asked.

    "I did some research, reading books, talking to foreign Climbers, the whole lot," Bert stated.

    "You read books!?" Fritz said exaggeratedly. Although the admission only surprised him a little, he decided to play it up.

    "Of course I did," Bert replied in mock offence. "You think I just rushed into becoming a beastmaster without thinking it through."

    "Honestly, yes," Fritz said. "When did you even get the time?"

    "Before the Climb, here and there," Bert said.

    "And here I thought you were just out gallivanting," Fritz said.

    "I can do both," Bert said proudly.

    "Huh," Fritz said. "Why can''t it be bugs?"

    "What?" Bert asked.

    "Why can''t the Nightshark be using bugs to spy?" Fritz asked.

    "Oh, that," Bert said. "The bond kills them."

    "Does it?"

    "Yeah. Most animals smaller than a finger will just go stiff and twitch wildly when you try to command them. And bugs just die."

    "Dale''s a bug," George observed.

    "Spire beasts are different," Bert said, frowning. "And he''s not a bug."

    "How are they different?" Fritz asked.

    "I don''t know they just are," Bert said. "Maybe it''s because they''re magic."

    "I heard a tale of a Climber who could command a swarm of spiders," Lauren said. "The power to bond bugs could be a rare or an Ascended form of a beast-bond Trait."

    Fritz shivered at the thought of such a horrific power, and he was not alone.

    "Bonding more than one beast is also rare, but not unheard of," Bert said. "Something to do with Ability and Trait Evolutions."

    "I think it''s safe enough to say that the Nightshark has a power that bonds multiple beasts. Likely birds, rats and maybe fish," Fritz said. "To what degree they''re able to spy, whether by listening and reporting or if they send messages through the bond, I can''t guess. Though we should all be careful saying anything if you suspect there may be a rat or some other vermin around."

    Fritz looked to Bert to see if he had anything more to say about beastmastering. He merely shrugged.

    "Anyway, I just thought I''d warn you all," Fritz said to the unusually quiet team. "And as I have you all still here, we''ll begin training in three days."

    "Training for what?" Cal asked.

    "For Climbing," Fritz said. "I want to polish our skills, practise in a low-risk environment for once. We''ll use the yard for now, it seems big enough for some running, wrestling and sparring. We can look into the dedicated training halls later."

    "I could always do with some more wrestling," Rosie said, grinning.

    "And I would like to test my blade against yours, Fritz," George added.

    "There will be plenty of time for that," Fritz said. "Any other ideas?"

    "We could hire a tutor, or talk with other, more experienced Climbing teams," Lauren proposed. "They could help us with a routine and working out what areas we should focus on."

    "A brilliant idea, though I''m not keen to reveal our powers," Fritz said.

    Lauren shrugged. "We tell them only the basics, striker mage, striker swordsman, guard defender, that sort of thing."

    "What about me, I''m what? Support?" Cal hedged.

    "Striker, cook, support," Bert listed. "Perfect kit if you ask me. Apart from mine."

    "Which is what? A beastmaster...something?" Cal asked.

    "I''m still a Defender," Bert said. "With a bit of striking."

    "And a snail," Rosie said.

    "And Dale," Bert agreed.

    "How does this all work?" Cal asked, frowning.

    "What do you mean?" Fritz asked.

    "Like all this Role stuff," he replied. "Like how can both Rosie and Bert be Defenders when their powers are so different?"

    "It''s not really about the powers themselves but what they do broadly," Fritz said. "There are many ways to be a Striker. Take Lauren''s fire magic or George''s sword skills. They do the Role differently but they both specialise in killing beasts or destroying obstacles."

    "Huh," Cal said.

    "I get it," Rosie said. "My scales are hard and I''m tough. Bert is softer, but he recovers quickly. But we''re both very hard to kill and can distract beasts."

    "Exactly," Fritz said.

    "And once Dale grows up he''ll be able to help," Bert said proudly. "Remember how hard those other snails were to kill? They healed faster than I do."

    "Until their shells were shattered," Fritz corrected. "Or they were cut by a cursed blade."

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    "True, but I''ll be able to protect his shell, and I have a passive that lets us share health recovery."

    "What?" Fritz asked, actually baffled that such an Ability existed.

    "That''s right, Vitality plus snail recovery powers. What a synergy!" Bert stated.

    It aggravated Fritz that the man was absolutely right, it sounded fantastic and made him feel like his own kit was cobbled together from scraps in comparison. He wondered how had the man stumbled into such a synergistic set of complementary powers? Then Fritz saw that cunning glint in the man''s amber eye and knew that he hadn''t stumbled into anything. He''d been choosing his Abilities carefully since he''d found the snail egg, maybe even before.

    "And with the both of us, it will be like you have two Defenders at once!" He claimed proudly. Dale tentatively slithered out of his shell and goggled groggily, obviously having been awoken by Bert''s boasting. He warbled grumpily.

    "Huh," Cal said. "I guess that makes some sense. I just wish the lines between Roles were a bit clearer."

    "If only things were so cut and dry," Fritz agreed. "Unfortunately, this is a land of grey and rain."

    "It is in Rain City. Though the world is a big place, with many Spires and things to see," Lauren said.

    "Many adventures," Fritz agreed. "I''d love to brave the sea. Some day."

    "What and risk being eaten, or crushed by leviathans?" Cal asked.

    "Or their swarming spawn," George added.

    "Or caught in a mana-storm, " Bert said eagerly. "So many different dangers!"

    "Sounds deadly," Cal said.

    "It''s a perilous prospect, but not impossible," Fritz said. "Experienced sailors can cross the seas if they''re careful. And the Jastili Fleet is known to travel the ocean and trade with all lands, mapped or mysterious."

    "The Jastil are a different breed to even veteran sailors. Their ships are their homes, the crew are their family. The perils of the open waters mean little to them as they likely have three thousand tricks to traverse the seas," Lauren explained, some admiration, or envy, in her voice.

    She sighed. "Though that''s neither here nor there, we were talking about the future, not foolish fantasy."

    Fritz nodded. Although he still felt the desire to leave Rain City, such a voyage would be expensive, dangerous and would mean leaving his family behind, or bringing them with him. Which he couldn''t countenance, not while they were levelless and still needed his protection.

    "So you want us to rest and stuff and then we get to training?" Rosie asked.

    "I would like you to search for anything to make yourself more powerful or versatile. Find some Techniques or useful mundane skills you''d like to learn, or books with knowledge on how to get the best use of our Attributes and Abilities. That sort of thing. And we should be on the lookout for information about the Rain Spire''s Floors and Doors."

    "We should all get some better gear as well," George interjected.

    "Yes," Fritz agreed. "Now that you have your own gold you should use a little to outfit yourselves more fully."

    The team nodded, seeing the logic in his requests.

    "And you will be hiring a servant and a laundry service, correct?" Lauren asked.

    "I will, as the Captain I am burdened with such responsibilities," Fritz said. "Though I will require some gold to help pay for it."

    "Boo!" Bert protested, his voice rolling over the more reserved grumblings of the rest of the crew.

    "Consider it my Captain''s due, as I didn''t collect the customary three shares of the haul," Fritz reminded them. "And clean clothes and quarters is something we''ll all enjoy the benefits of."

    "Speaking of the haul," Cal said. "Can I have some of the blood lime seeds?"

    "Why? What to gift them to some pretty alchemist perhaps?" Fritz teased.

    Cal blushed a little, but denied the accusation. "No, I was going to buy some planters and dirt, try and grow one of the trees. That way we could have a steady supply of them...eventually."

    "Didn''t they grow in salt water?" George asked.

    Cal nodded, his face falling.

    "You could still try it, perhaps plant it somewhere down in the drowned district where seawater mingles with the rain," Fritz suggested.

    "I''ll do that then, if we can spare them," Cal hedged.

    "We can," Lauren agreed, though she didn''t look exactly happy that they were seemingly squandering their materials.

    "Anything else we need to purchase or procure?" Fritz asked Lauren.

    "I''m not entirely sure. I need a proper ledger book, though I can get that myself," Lauren said.

    "Could you find me something to write in as well?" Fritz asked.

    "Starting a Guide journal?" She asked.

    Fritz nearly winced at the question, he suppressed the expression and the rushing emotion surging from distant, old memories of perusing his own father''s journals. Flashes of hand-drawn beasts and strange landscapes accompanied by neatly scribbled notes.

    "Guide journal?" Bert asked.

    "Many, if not most, Guides record the various Floors and Doors they encounter in their Climbs," Fritz explained. "The knowledge can be valuable. Especially anything you can observe about reoccurring or persistent floors."

    "We could just write a book about our Climb and sell it?" Rosie asked.

    "You could," Fritz said. "However, there are so many false accounts and fictitious journals out there that it wouldn''t be worth the paper it''s written on. A lie in such a book could mean your death so only the desperate would look to them for any sort of advice."

    "Huh," Rosie said.

    "But I heard the Guides Guild buys things like that," Cal said.

    "They do," Fritz said, trying not to scowl. "The Guides Guild make sure any such knowledge is sold to them. They verify the accuracy of the claims, then compile them into the prohibitively expensive Guidebooks and teach all they know to their own members to give them the edge over ''normal'' Scouts. It keeps their stranglehold on the extremely lucrative Climbing knowledge. And they like it that way, so if you did produce your own true and useful guides they would come knocking quite quickly."

    "Bastards," Rosie said, spitting to the side and onto a green rug.

    "Don''t do that," Cal said. "This place is nice and dry, don''t want to flood it with your spit."

    "Right, sorry," Rosie said.

    They quieted for some moments each considering their next steps and the errands they had to run to accomplish their goals.

    "I think I''m going to take that sirensilk we reserved for ourselves to the tailor I mentioned. We should get any commissions we desire underway early," Fritz announced. "You all will need to come, to get the measurements done."

    "As far as commissions and armour goes, how long will the shark and eel skins take to cure?" George asked.

    "Anywhere from a week to a month," Fritz said. "Then we can get something made from them too."

    George nodded.

    "Right, let''s get a move on," Fritz ordered.

    The team obeyed, shuffling out into the hallway, Fritz caught Bert by the arm and asked, "Is the eel egg still healthy?"

    Bert nodded. "I have it in a big jar. It''s as safe as can be."

    "Good, because we''ll need it to get on the Nightshark''s good side," Fritz said. "I have a bad feeling, and it''s best to be bearing gifts rather than just grudges."

    "I don''t hold grudges," Bert stated.

    "I was talking about myself," Fritz admitted.

    "Anything else?" Bert asked.

    "I don''t know," Fritz said, letting some of his worry show. "I''m afraid."

    Bert patted Fritz on the shoulder, then pulled him into a hug.

    "Don''t worry. We''ll face it together," Bert said. "It''s only the boss of the entire Sunken Ring. How deadly could they really be?"

    Fritz laughed at the absurdity of the comment.

    "Only the most deadly person in Rain City, save the king," Fritz said drily.

    "Look on the bright side then," Bert said.

    "And what is that?"

    "You haven''t annoyed the king...yet," Bert said, grinning.

    "Yet?" Fritz smirked. "What could I, so far beneath his majesties notice, possibly do to annoy him?"

    "I don''t know, but you''ll find a way," Bert grinned. "I feel it in my moonsilvered bones."

    "Haha," Fritz chuckled.

    "And I''ll be there then as well," Bert said.

    Fritz nodded.

    Bert broke the hug and said, "Now let''s stop worrying and get to shopping. I love shopping."

    Fritz smiled, Bert grinned and they set off, joining the others and leading them forward.

    ---

    Colette''s store was doing a brisk business, though Fritz could see it was not one of the more popular establishments. She and one of her two assistants were currently preoccupied so Fritz and his team waited, busying themselves with some small browsing of the cuts and fits displayed on the many mannequins.

    "This is some well-made clothing, very elegant," George said. "I''m surprised there aren''t more patrons."

    "It''s because this sort of style is not currently in fashion, these clean lines and smooth curves have been eclipsed in the court by great bunches of ruffles and lace," Lauren said.

    "You''re quite right. The esteemed nobility want veritable mountains of frills, trying to impress the Empire Prince no doubt. Preferably knitted out of silverstream wool," an assistant said, his youthful face scrunching in displeasure. "Of course, now that that fabric is desirable it is impossible to acquire. Though I''m sure this current fad will soon be over. Once the Empire Prince finally leaves."

    "What about sirensilk?" Rosie asked.

    The man snorted.

    "Timelessly fashionable, eternally elegant and absurdly expensive. It''s wonderfully smooth and light, like touching a cool, still ocean," he espoused.

    "Yeah, I guess it''s nice," Rosie said, scratching lightly at a scale and eliciting a scowl from the man.

    "Can I help you?" He asked, annoyed, and not for the first time.

    "Still just waiting on your master," Fritz said, smirking.

    "Well, I''m ready now," Colette said, appearing from behind a curtained partition.

    She looked different from when Fritz had seen her before, though that was likely because he wasn''t breaking into her store in the middle of the night. Gone was the dressing gown and hairnet, replaced with a dark blue dress that fit her perfectly. It wasn''t quite an evening dress, being far too functional to be such apparel, but it also wasn''t devoid of beauty. Her mousy hair was tied in a proper bun, and her face was powdered and painted lightly.

    In this more proper state she was really quite pretty.

    "Colette," Fritz greeted, smiling wide at the woman.

    "Francis!" Colette said, her polite smile brightening and her grey eyes twinkling with joy.

    "Oh, If I had known it was you I would have rushed to say hello," she said.

    "No, you wouldn''t have," the assistant said, rolling his eyes. "You never rush anything."

    "Don''t be rude, Phil," the other assistant said. This one a woman who looked strikingly similar to the man, both sharing black hair, blue eyes and prominent chins.

    "You''ll have to excuse these two, Francis. They''re competent, but excitable," Colette said.

    "And twins," Bert observed.

    "Ah, and these are your friends?" Colette asked, then she counted them quickly and corrected herself. "No, your Climbing team. Of course."

    Her brow creased as a thought occurred to her. "And did I hear one of you mention sirensilk?"

    "Perhaps," Fritz said.

    Her face lit up further, she beamed, then her face slipped into concern and she glanced around suspiciously.

    "Phil, Gina, mind the shop. I need to speak with Sir Hightide in private."

    The two shared a look of curiosity, but heeded her order.

    "Francis, let us go into the back room and you can show me what you have," she continued, oblivious to how her words sounded.

    "My pleasure," Fritz agreed with dignity, while Bert grinned and the twins stifled smirks.

    He followed her through the warded door and into a room that likely served as the main tailoring area. Like the personal sewing room he had seen upstairs this workplace was messy and ill-managed, though there was a certain sense of controlled chaos amongst the strewn sewing supplies.

    Many bolts of different coloured cloth lined the walls and work tables were laid with boxes full of various smooth threads and shining needles. Scattered papers were scrawled with patterns and sketches of clothes, and among them there were some few unfinished garments lying upon the desks, waiting to be sewn.

    "Don''t mind the mess," Colette said absently.

    "Over here." She added, leading him to the largest and most cluttered table. She lit a bright lantern and cleared a space for him to display his goods. "Let''s have a look at these threads."

    Colette awaited eagerly, she nearly hopped from foot to foot, but controlled herself by clasping her hands in front of her.

    Fritz started pulling out the long loops of unwoven threads, her expression brightened into dignified delight. He placed them on the table gently. Colette reached out with a steady hand and ran the cool, smooth strands through calloused fingers.

    "Wonderful. So soft," she murmured, she pulled on the thread, testing its strength and nodding. "It will need to be woven to make anything substantial, but there is no fraying or other damage so that will be easy. Or these threads could be used to sew seams, they would be quite tough."

    She beamed up at him, "I would love to work with this material. What do you want for it?"

    "I was going to ask you to make me and my team some clothing out of the sirensilk, Lauren wanted battle robes," Fritz said.

    Her face fell, "I''m sorry to say, but there isn''t enough here to make much more than a shirt. Unless I only use it as a thread and have another fabric as a base."

    "Oh," Fritz said, trying to conceal his smirk and failing.

    "What if you were to use this?" He asked unfurling a long sheet of the woven sirensilk. It was pale blue and shimmered softly. The fabric flowed like water through his fingers as he let it slip onto the desk.

    She stared at the glimmering sheet in disbelief, then delicately ran her hand over it. Her smile widened and she lifted some to her neck and let it glide over her skin.

    "It''s... It''s... beyond words," she said.

    "Well, you can have that one, as a gift for your help. We have more," Fritz said.

    She enjoyed the sensation of sirensilk for a moment longer. Then his words reached her mind and some thought occurred to her.

    She opened her eyes wide.

    Colette fell into a chair, face pale as if stricken, and clutching at the precious fabric.

    "Where did you get this? You didn''t steal this did you?" She whispered, mortified, pulling the sirensilk to her chest.

    Fritz frowned, then smoothed his brow and smiled surely. "Only from sirens. And they''re in no position to protest my theft."

    She looked at him and searched his features.

    "You''re telling the truth?" She asked as if she didn''t dare believe it.

    "Of course I am," Fritz said, a little offended, then he softened his tone and laced it with the lulling tones of Dusksong. "I would never have you work with stolen goods, or bring danger to you."

    The words had some effect and she nodded.

    "You''ll have to forgive me, it was just... do you know what this is worth?" She asked.

    "Not exactly. One of my team, Lauren, estimated we had a thousand gold worth of sirensilk, maybe more," Fritz said with a shrug, trying to play off how proud he was of their vast hoard and producing another sheet, this one green with a golden sheen.

    "How many sheets like this do you have?" She asked, motes of worry and excitement dancing around her head in a dizzying halo.

    "Plenty, at least thirty sheets of similar or greater size," Fritz said.

    "Thirty!?" She gasped, then gulped.

    "Yes, we were lucky," Fritz said.

    She stared at him, then began to laugh. It was high and clear, on the edge of mania.

    "Lucky!" she cackled. "Lucky he says! Boy, these sheets are worth at least a hundred gold triads. Each!"

    "What?" Fritz asked, caught off guard.

    "Your team member has wildly undervalued what you have," she proclaimed. "And that''s just the material itself, if I were to tailor something for you out of this it could be worth even more. By the Gods, Francis, you really have brought me a terrible problem."

    "Problem?" He asked.

    "It''s too much. Too much, Francis!" Colette protested, though she didn''t let go of the sirensilk.

    Fritz laughed at that.

    "Don''t worry about what it''s worth. I just want something nice made for me and my team. We went through a lot of trouble for it and I''d like to see them enjoy the fruits of their labour."

    "Are you sure?" She asked, now uncertain. "I haven''t worked with this before, I might mess it up."

    "We have a lot," Fritz said. "And I trust you to do your best. You''ve served House Hightide faithfully before. It calls on you again. Will you answer?"

    She stared at him as his lordly tones echoed strangely, Dusksong leaking into his words.

    Colette smiled wide and burst out laughing. "You''re absurd! I''m a dressmaker, not a knight!"

    "And that is what House Hightide requires of you," Fritz proclaimed.

    When her mirth died down, she looked up at him, then stood.

    "I answer. I will take this commission, let''s get you all measured. We''ll have to do yours again too since you''ve filled out," she said, holding out a hand.

    Fritz shook it and nodded.

    "And Francis, thank you," she said.

    "No, thank you," Francis replied.

    It felt good to repay a debt.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 8

    There was a fussy storm conjured in Colette''s store, one comprised of her quick clever hands and endlessly-eager chattering. Her two assistants were just as bad, they brandished measuring tapes, test fabrics, clothing and pins, following in their master''s wake like they were leaves caught upon the whirling wind.

    Within an hour the team were all measured and their preferences noted. George, Fritz and Cal, all desired shirts, while Bert requested undergarments befitting a king as he already had his Imbued vest and pants. Lauren outlined her desire for battle robes. Colette told her she was no expert making battlewear, but boasted she would do the necessary research and practise before sewing the finest battle robes in Rain City.

    Lauren nodded along, seemingly taking the woman at her word and listening when Colette informed her of the true value of their sirensilk. That bit of honesty disposed her well to the tailor, and soon they were chatting amiably about the various styles her battle robe could take.

    While each waited for their own turn they browsed the store and found things they needed or liked, such as socks, cloaks and scarfs. Fritz restrained himself, content in adding only a pair of socks to his commission.

    When it came time to talk about the gold they owed Colette for their to-be-made finery, the tailor hesitated.

    "Normally I''d charge in silver. However, due to the care needed and the exquisite nature of the materials, I can''t ask for anything less than one gold for each item made. And three for the battle robes," she explained reluctantly as if she didn''t want to offend. "If the store''s prospects were doing better I could feasibly reduce the costs, but like everyone else I have rent, and assistants, to pay. And I want to make sure these clothes will be as perfect as possible."

    None objected to the price, Fritz knew it was slightly beyond what most commissions would cost, but he trusted the clothier to sew them some truly special pieces. Even Lauren, the most cunning of the team when it came to coin, didn''t haggle.

    They paid, said their goodbyes and left.

    From there they split up, either to return home or run their errands. Bert joined Fritz on his tasks, as was natural.

    "What''s the plan?" Bert asked.

    "Servant, tutor, research," Fritz said.

    Bert nodded, "Where to first?"

    "Let''s talk to the butler, Harold. He should know the business of servants," Fritz said.

    "Feels odd," Bert said, as the crowd parted before the two.

    "What does?"

    "Not being spat on or glared at as we walk through the streets," Bert said.

    "A great benefit to looking respectable," Fritz said.

    "Sure," Bert said.

    The pair made their way to the row of rented houses, and Fritz knocked upon the first house''s door.

    Harold greeted them with all the proper deference he was due as a lord. Fritz waved his bows off amiably and began his quick interrogation as to where he should go to acquire some trusty servants.

    He was informed that for the small fee of a silver per week, they would be provided with weekly laundry and cleaning. He also recommended visiting a servant''s registry in the Upper Ring for more personal or live-in help. Fritz thanked the man and paid him a gold triad to add his household to the services for three months.

    With that, he marched towards the particular servant''s registry office Harold had recommended and provided directions to.

    "Are we getting a maid or a manservant?" Bert asked.

    "Does it matter?" Fritz replied.

    Bert shrugged. "It doesn''t to me, but I think Lauren would prefer a maid."

    "She would," Fritz said blandly. "Though I''m not sure if that''s a great idea. Knowing her."

    Bert chuckled. "As long as we keep the rum away from her I think it''ll be fine."

    They approached the office, and noted the small brass sign that read: "Mrs Bridgestone''s Registry for Sure Servants of Uncontroversial and Competent Character."

    "This must be it," Fritz said, then entered the small office.

    He was greeted by the ring of an overhead bell and the matronly Mrs. Bridgestone, and when they asked for a maid, she looked at them askance. She proclaimed that she recommended help of high character, not anything untoward. And if they wanted something like that they were better off browsing the bluestone district.

    Fritz flashed his signet ring and reiterated they wanted someone to keep their Climber house tidy while they resided there. When those words didn''t seem to reassure her, he mentioned Harold had sent them there and suddenly negotiations went far smoother.

    "Why didn''t you say so!" She cried, exasperated, then when she remembered she was dealing with nobility she added. "My apologies, milord."

    From there they decided, seeing as they had a few rooms to spare to hire a live-in maid.

    "Any particular preferences?" Mrs Bridgestone asked as she filled out a piece of paper.

    "Pretty," Bert said and Fritz elbowed him.

    "Of course, that can be arranged," the woman said without missing a beat.

    "I would simply prefer them to be diligent and dutiful," Fritz said. "And not one for talk, we already have too many with that disposition."

    Bert looked at Fritz with incredulity, as if he couldn''t believe the hypocrisy he was hearing.

    "I think we can find just the woman for you," Mrs Bridgestone said professionally. "I''ll send the applicants to your premises in three days. Does the morning suit you?"

    "It does," Fritz said, making a mental note of the date.

    He paid some silver for the woman''s service, and she bowed as he stood and left.

    Back in the street, Fritz and Bert set off for the next quest.

    "Where are we going?" Bert asked.

    "Orphanage, if anyone knows where we can get a decent tutor then it''s the headmaster there," Fritz explained.

    "Oh, can I meet your siblings?" Bert asked.

    "Maybe later, we have things to do," Fritz said. "I''ll have to invite them to our place once we''re settled in. We can have a dinner party or something."

    "Fair enough," Bert said. "Does your brother look like a little version of you?"

    "Not at all, he looks more like my maternal grandfather," Fritz said. "Amathea looks more like me."

    "Huh," Bert said. "A more womanly Fritz. I can''t imagine it. I''m sure it''ll be a sight to see."

    Fritz ignored the comment, though a part of him wanted to hide Amathea away from Bert.

    When they arrived, Frank greeted them at the door and led them to the Headmaster without much hassle.

    The visit was brief, but Fritz was able to attain the addresses of a few active tutors of various kinds, from magic to martial as well as skilled sages. The headmaster did warn him, however, that they might not be taking on any new students or may not have the appropriate expertise to teach his whole team as tutors and trainers tended to specialise.

    "What do I do if none of these fine folk take us on?" Fritz asked.

    Hesitantly, Harvest wrote out one last name.

    "Then try this one. I don''t know where they are at the moment, but they tend to take up rooms in whatever inn that takes their fancy that night," he said. "Usually in the Upper Ring, though sometimes they go down to the bluestone district. They''re an old friend so be polite. And don''t take their insults and criticism too harshly. They are known for being... standoffish, rude and exacting. Or more commonly known as a right arsehole."

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    Fritz blinked at the surprisingly coarse language and that made the Headmaster smirk.

    "Though your search may not have to come to that," he added. "And they''re not likely to take you on either. Their standards are high. Too high for most Climbers."

    Fritz smirked. "Well, I''m not most Climbers."

    Harvest looked like he wanted to say something else, but he thought better of it and held his tongue.

    "What is it?" Fritz asked.

    "Nothing," Harvest sighed.

    Fritz thought it obviously wasn''t nothing, but he didn''t want to quarrel with the man nor did he want to dally much longer.

    He said his grateful farewells and left. Outside the Headmaster''s office, Frank was laughing at some joke Bert had cracked. Fritz frowned, then smoothed his face and motioned to his grinning friend to follow.

    "Got what you needed?"Bert asked.

    "Yes, though it seems the pickings are slim," Fritz replied.

    "They would be, apart from scholars, only retired Climbers tend to become tutors," Frank provided. "And there aren''t many of them."

    "Why?" Bert asked.

    "Because Climbers die. All the time," Frank said with a surprising amount of bitterness and some deep hurt plain in his eyes. He rubbed absently at his left shoulder.

    For the first time, Fritz noticed that the man''s left arm was always held stiffly. He came to the quick conclusion it was likely due to the lingering damage of some old wound that even the Spires couldn''t heal completely.

    "Others, our most promising Climbers, leave for distant, better, shores and Spires," Frank said, almost wistfully.

    "So the tutors are the dregs that don''t have the strength or skill to leave?" Bert asked.

    "Not all of them," Frank said. "Those that retire or stay in Rain City have their reasons, as do we all. It could be the trappings of family or comfort. It could just be they''re sick of seeing their teammates die."

    "Or an injury?" Fritz asked.

    "Or an injury," Frank agreed, once again rubbing his shoulder.

    "What about the scholars?" Bert asked.

    "What about them?" Frank asked.

    "You said they become tutors too," Bert said.

    "I did, but I wouldn''t personally trust my training to someone who hasn''t Climbed higher than me," Frank said. "And you shouldn''t either, too much theory not enough experience. But their knowledge can be useful, if not exactly applicable."

    "Thanks for the advice, Frank," Fritz said earnestly.

    "I''m just glad you''re listening for once," Frank said, his customary scowl back in place.

    "Yeah, thanks for the sage wisdom old-timer," Bert said, grinning.

    The guard returned the smile in a blatant show of favouritism. The two had only just met and Bert had already charmed the grouchy man. How did he do it?

    "Get moving you two. Oh, and Francis, your brother''s being a pain, come visit him in a couple of days. And bring a practice sword," Frank said.

    Fritz nodded, not meeting the man''s eyes. "I will try to make the time."

    He remembered his last meeting with Elliot and guilt gripped him. He shook off its clutches quickly, he knew he was trying to do his best for the both of them, for all three of them really.

    "Good," Frank said, seemingly pleased.

    Soon they were at the orphanage''s gates and striding out into the street, leaving the guardsman behind with a wave.

    Fritz opened his umbrella and Bert crowded under it.

    "Lunch?" Bert asked.

    "Lunch," Fritz agreed. "Then onto this list of tutors."

    "How many do we have to meet?" Bert asked.

    "There are seven addresses," Fritz said.

    "That''ll take most of the day," Bert complained.

    "Maybe if they were spread out all over the city, but it shouldn''t be too bad, they''re all here in the Upper Ring," Fritz assuaged.

    "Fine, let''s get some shark steaks," Bert suggested.

    "How about grilled duck skewers?" Fritz countered.

    "How about both!" Bert said.

    Fritz laughed and agreed.

    ---

    Once they had eaten their fill of street food they began traversing the Upper ring, searching for the listed tutors.

    "Hmm," Bert hummed.

    "Hmm," Bert hummed again when Fritz didn''t respond.

    "What?" Fritz exhaled.

    "Something about lunch isn''t sitting right," Bert said, rubbing at his stomach.

    "It tasted fine to me, far better than our usual fare," Fritz said.

    "Not the taste, but how it sits in your gut," Bert explained. "It''s light. It''s missing something. Something heavy."

    "Like it''s... lacking in substance?" Fritz asked, noticing the same himself now that his attention was brought to it.

    "That''s right," Bert agreed. "Wonder why."

    "It''s because we''ve been exclusively dining on the mana-dense monster meat, I suspect," Fritz theorised.

    "That must be it," Bert said, nodding.

    "It does leave something to be desired, doesn''t it?" Fritz said. "We''ll have to procure some."

    With that goal in mind, they quickly checked the butchers and grocers they passed, inquiring at the stalls and stores for more of the mana-dense produce. They soon discovered that most of the monster meat was reserved for nobility and the wealthy, and that the rare foodstuffs that were offered up to the well-to-do commoners were sold quickly and at a remarkable markup.

    They left the Thoroughfare Market empty-handed, grousing to each other about ''those greedy nobles''.

    Fritz not included, of course.

    After asking for directions, the pair set off south to the first address on Fritz''s list. It was to the north east, this portion of the Upper Ring had several large halls and a few training grounds carpeted with the springy cover of clover. Climbers ran laps, they also wrestled and sparred in the rain or under awnings held aloft by tall poles. Their tutors and trainers watched them, yelling praise, calling out corrections and punishing poor performance.

    From the halls, similar sounds of exertion could be heard and glimpsed through windows and tall doors. Fritz and Bert watched two men sparring in one of the fields for some moments. One was a mage, wearing battle robes and slinging balls of water as the other, armed with a training club and clad in a rainsteel breastplate, tried to close in on him.

    Eventually, the armoured man misstepped and was struck in the chest with a Water Bolt that sent him tumbling to the ground. He didn''t let the blow stop him and he rolled to his feet, attempting again to approach.

    "That looks fun," Bert said.

    "The blasting or the dodging?" Fritz asked.

    "Both," Bert declared.

    "I''m somewhat surprised that they''d show off their powers like this," Fritz mused. "Though I suppose that they aren''t using anything particularly rare or revealing."

    "Yeah, Water Bolt has got to be common as they come," Bert agreed. "Nothing as fearsome as our Abilities!"

    Fritz nodded, agreeing with the sentiment even though that fact would likely come back to bite them. All of his team had those unusual Awards and an odd assortment of Abilities and Traits. While they trained, Fritz and Bert would have to hide the extent of their levels too, lest they give too much away.

    Fritz sighed and almost turned around and left, he teetered on the edge of giving up the whole idea. All the deception would be a real hassle. Still, he knew that he, and his team, needed to become more powerful, had to refine their skills to a far greater degree to even consider Climbing the Rain Spire. Especially if they wanted to Golden Climb it, just as he wanted to, no, needed to, to gain the strength to do as he pleased and finally be free to make his own choices.

    Straightening his back, Fritz strode forward, towards an office whose plaque was emblazoned with the first name and address on his list.

    ---

    "What did they say?" Bert asked.

    Fritz shook his head an exasperated scowl writ plain on his face.

    "Wasn''t that the last one?" He asked.

    "The last one that we have an address for," Fritz replied.

    "Damn it! Not even one of them wanted to train us!?" Bert cried in supreme annoyance. "Bastards. We''ve been walking around for hours."

    Fritz grimaced. He felt similarly pissed off at the wasted time. Not the politeness of the refusal, nor the delectability of the tea and biscuits the previous tutor had provided, could cool the burning, bitter coal of his anger. Each and every one of the trainers and tutors had found some reason not to take them on, be it their claims of being too busy, too expensive or far too prestigious for his team.

    Some weren''t so arrogant or offensive, though they tended to be the scholars. And when he explained some of their powers in vague terms, they told him that such a team would be outside of their respective expertises. One simply wanted to study his team and their Abilities rather than truly teach them anything, so Fritz denied that man''s offer forcefully, and was likely very rude in his vehemence.

    The whole ordeal was infuriating. He wanted to tear up the list and throw its pieces into the gutter, but he stopped himself. He hissed out an aggravated breath and tucked the paper away. Finding the last person on the list would be an exercise in frustration, seeking them across all inns and taverns of the Upper Ring truly did not appeal to him. And neither of them were really in the mood for a long search followed by what was likely to be a quick and cold rejection.

    "We''ll talk to the last one tomorrow. For now, let''s try some bookstores and ask around for some books about Advanced Attributes and other useful things," Fritz said. "If they have any."

    "From walking around to reading... great," Bert grumbled.

    "Or you can go ask if they need another wrestling partner," Fritz said, waving at one of the training grounds.

    Bert looked over longingly at two Climbers in the drizzling distance. They were clinched together, pushing, pulling and twisting their bodies, trying to throw each other to the splotchy, springy clover.

    He sighed.

    "No, I should read more about bonded beasts. I wouldn''t want to fail, Dale. Alas," he bemoaned.

    Fritz rolled his eyes, and they trudged back to the Thoroughfare Markets, tutorless and thwarted.

    In the long lane of scribe supplies and bookbinders, fondly thought of as Scholars Lane, they looked for books, scrolls and perhaps Techniques. There was little hope for the latter, as such a thing would be immediately noticed and would be unlikely to be sold normally unless it was one of limited or mundane use.

    Something like a Technique on farming or domestic labour might be able to be found, though those were also bought up quickly. Which lord wouldn''t want more effective servants and serfs?

    It was in a small and almost empty store that Fritz, who was preoccupied scanning the water-proofed covers of a selection of Spire tales, that he heard a cough.

    "Can I help you, young man?" An older, neatly dressed and cleanly styled man asked.

    "Perhaps. Do you have anything concerning Magical and Advanced Attributes?" Fritz asked.

    "Only a very basic volume," the man admitted.

    It was to be expected, all the places they''d visited so far had been the same, there was very little in the way of Climbing knowledge to be found. Fritz stifled his sigh, but the man seemed to notice his disappointment, that, and his signet ring when he ran his hand through his hair.

    "Milord may have better luck searching in the king''s archive for such arcane subjects," the man said quickly.

    "Ah, if only I had access to such a vaunted store of knowledge," Fritz bemoaned.

    "Do you not, milord? I was of the belief that all the illustrious nobility had the right to use the king''s archive," the man said obsequiously, obviously trying not to contradict his betters.

    "Is that so?" Fritz asked, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest.

    The man looked at him quizzically.

    "Milord, are you not aware of the noble privileges you hold?" He hedged.

    "Obviously, not the whole extent of them," Fritz said wryly.

    "I claim to be no expert on such things, but if you present yourself to the archive they may elucidate milord," he said.

    "Hmm," Fritz hummed, wondering what other noble privileges he''d be able to abuse.

    The man waited worriedly, again expecting the frivolous fury some of the nobles were known for.

    "Thank you. I''ll do that," Fritz said, setting the man at ease. "I''ll also purchase that volume you mentioned, I have to start my personal library with something. Might as well be something broad and basic."

    "Yes, milord," the man said, jumping to the task.

    Fritz paid two gold for the thin tome, hiding a grimace at the price. He should have asked about the cost first, but he supposed it would be useful to have, even if it were just for reference. He perused it for some minutes, it seemed to be an encyclopedia of Advanced and Magical Attributes, each with two to three paragraphs dedicated to them that described some of their known effects, associated Abilities and potential synergies.

    Curiously he looked for the entry about Dusksong, only to find that there was no mention of the Attribute. The rest of his Advanced Attributes were there in the index, Awareness, Control, Grace. There were also the rare Magical Attributes like Nightwell, Lightwell, and Arcane Potentia.

    It was odd, he knew he had never heard of Dusksong before, but his education was lacking. Could it be truly so rare, just as he had hoped?

    He frowned, tempering his pride. This was a basic overview, it wouldn''t have all the truly rare or hidden powers within its stiff pages.

    "Is something the matter with the book?" The man asked, anxious again.

    "No. All is well," Fritz replied, tearing his eyes away from the book. "Thank you, again."

    "It is no problem, milord. If there is anything else do not hesitate to ask," he stated with a bow.

    Fritz had nothing else to ask, so he turned, walked away and found Bert studying a haphazard diagram of a monster, some sort of great lizard with with six heads labelled as a lesser hydra.

    "Bert, let''s go," Fritz declared, slapping a hand on his bored friend''s back.

    "Where?" He asked.

    "To be elucidated," Fritz espoused.

    "What!? In the middle of the day?" Bert said incredulously. "I still have my pants on."

    Fritz frowned and Bert laughed.

    "To the Palace Ring, and the King''s archive."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 9

    The gates to the Palace Ring were taller than those leading into the Sunken Ring. The portcullis was raised and its rainsteel spikes hung fifteen feet overhead like spears held ready, pointing down at the carriages and their noble passengers as they passed underneath the stone arch.

    The gate was defended not only by the two squads of Storm Guard, but also by two of the looming figures of Scale Guard.

    Fritz had to stop himself from nervously glancing at those elite warriors. Their very presence made him feel small. It wasn''t that they were that much taller or more robust, but that the rigidity of their strong backs, the cold of their keen glares, and the display of their deadly Treasures set them apart. It made them appear to tower over the Storm Guard, who were arrayed with far less imposing armaments and were left to deal with the minutia of ensuring the sift flow of traffic, rather than the far more honourable task of protecting the gate.

    "We don''t have a carriage," Bert observed. "Will they let us in?"

    "My signet ring should open the way," Fritz stated. "If not, then we climb the wall."

    Bert eyed the smooth stone, that gleam of challenge lit within his amber irises.

    Fritz strode forward, trailing behind a black carriage trimmed in silver.

    It passed under the gate, Fritz and Bert were almost through when one of the scale guard shifted, then sped through the rain in a pale green blur. They arrived right in front of Fritz with a hand outstretched to halt his passage. It had happened in the blink of an eye, and although he felt nothing from his Danger Sense, he stepped back and grasped Quicksilver''s grip.

    "Declare thyself and thy purpose," the scarred man ordered.

    "Lord Hightide. I seek the king''s archive," Fritz responded, holding his hand up and presenting his signet ring.

    The scale guard glared at Fritz''s face for three seconds before his intense gaze steadily slid to the silver sigil.

    "Hightide. We''ll see about that," the man ground out. "Come with me."

    Fritz tried to read the guard''s face, it was a picture of grim competence that let nothing slip. Though when Fritz concentrated he could feel flickering sparks of annoyance and some trepidation spill from the man. Apparently, Fritz was interrupting the supremely important task of standing around, and he almost protested, before he saw the hard look in the man''s eyes.

    "Lead the way," Fritz allowed begrudgingly. He knew that attempting to flee, like his treacherous body was screaming for him to do, would only end in his capture anyway.

    The guard turned and Fritz followed, Bert strode one step behind him, sensibly taking up the mannerisms of a bodyguard.

    They were taken to a guard house close by and ordered to wait in a barely furnished room while the scale guard spoke to his superior in what looked to be an office beyond.

    Fritz could hear nothing through the door, and a fearful weight settled on his shoulders. His mind raced with fearful notions. Did they know of his crimes? All that thievery and violence? Had the house of Hightide been sanctioned or dissolved with the absence of a head? Could it be his past catching up to him all at once? Would he pay the price here and now?

    Fritz''s leg bounced, he stifled the motion, then turned his gaze to the door out and considered fleeing, again. Yet somehow, even as the dread built in his chest, he remained in the solid wood chair.

    They waited for three terrible minutes before the guard appeared again.

    He produced a disc of dull metal the size of a saucer and set it down on the table, then he motioned at it.

    Fritz didn''t need to be told what to do, having guessed it from how the man''s eye lingered on his signet ring. He reached across the table, hovering his hand over the metal. The disc lit up with faint lines and circles of white.

    A flash of surprise ran over the onlooking guard, but it faded just as suddenly as the white light did when Fritz removed his hand from over the disc.

    "Sorry for the delay, Lord Hightide," the guard apologised almost immediately, prostrating himself in a bow. "The veracity of your Lordship has been verified. The honourable Hightide name hasn''t graced my ears in a long time. So I do hope you''ll forgive my suspicions. You can never be too careful in these uncertain times."

    Fritz was surprised. The change of demeanour was swift and sudden, the guard''s face was no longer one of stony derision and his voice had its gravelly tones smoothed away. With his rough demeanour dropped it made him appear almost a decade younger, in his mid-thirties rather than forties.

    Fritz nodded, holding his tongue. No matter how satisfying it would be, berating and belittling the guard would earn him no friends and would likely lend him a whole lot of grief in the future. Something he couldn''t afford, no matter his new found wealth.

    "This way if you will, milord," the man said, opening the door and leading them out.

    While they walked back to the gate, Fritz endeavoured to ask the man some questions.

    "You said these are uncertain times?" He began. "More than usual?"

    "Yes, Lord. Impersonators and connivers have been abounding. And most perfidiously," the guard provided genially. "They seek to undermine The King and wrest Rain City from his rightful rule. Some say they are spies from the Empire, some say they work for the whispered Nightshark. Who is to say which, but I tell you true that they exist and they are plotting."

    Fritz peered at the man, hiding some incredulity, he was rather free with his talk for one of the king''s scale guard.

    "Should you really be telling me such a thing?" Fritz asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

    "Of course. You are a Lord, and the nobility are to be made privy to all but the most secret of The King''s commands. Should they ask," he stated. "And what I told you is no idle gossip, I assure you. All should be wary and watching for treason. The King declared as much to the court only three weeks ago."

    He wanted to ask how the scale guard knew he wasn''t one of these spies but knew it was a foolish question. One that would only bring down suspicion. It likely had something to do with the disc and its reaction to his ring.

    "Ah, I must have missed that one," Fritz said blandly.

    "It is understandable, you are not of the merfolk and were likely not summoned," the guard informed him bluntly. "And I''m sorry if it is impertinent to say, but I, as a truth-teller, will inform you that the House of Hightide has little favour. Though you would be well aware of that."

    "I am," Fritz replied, finding the man strangely amiable. He could clearly tell the guard meant no offence yet he didn''t have much of a sense of propriety. He wondered how such a fellow came to be one of the scale guard, so he asked.

    "I''m a bastard you see," he said easily, smiling as if the fact bothered him not at all. "Many of us Scale Guard are. Though some of us are simply tough Climbers who rose through the Rain Spire and had something keeping them in Rain City."

    "How does that work, the whole bastard thing?" Bert asked.

    "Well in our case, we get offered up by our esteemed noble sires at a young age, before we can truly embarrass them. Then we''re trained. Then we Climb ourselves. And once the whole dangerous business of Climbing is done we serve The King in his scale guard."

    "I see," Fritz said, finding the explanation unsatisfactory as to his obvious oddness. "What''s your name guardsman?"

    "Quin, er, Quin Cold, milord," he replied somewhat warily.

    "Well, Quin, thank you for the tale, and the warning," Fritz said.

    "It was my duty," he said seriously.

    They walked.

    "Ah, here we are. Sorry, again, for the delay, Lord Hightide," Quin said once they approached the gate. "Head on through. The archive is to the north, a big dome-roofed building, you can''t miss it. I would guide you in apology, however, I am needed at my post."

    The scale guard left.

    "That was...an odd encounter. Though I can''t say it went terribly," Fritz said.

    "Think all the scale guard are like that?" Bert asked.

    Fritz shrugged.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    "No. I think we just met a weird one. Or perhaps it was as he mentioned, the peerage is entitled to many things. The deference and respect of the respective guards must be part of that," Fritz said, remembering the man''s cold, stern presence from before he had been proven, somehow, to be a Lord.

    Fritz looked at his ring, he knew it was heavier than it should be, but he didn''t think it had any magic within it. He decided to have Lauren look at it further, he felt there was a secret hidden in that silver crest and that impression made his mind itch.

    Striding, they passed through the gate unaccosted and walked the clean, stone streets of the palace district.

    Tall walls and deep pools hid vast estates to either side of the wide roads. Bert gawked at the mansions whose floors and roofs rose above their walls, and Fritz wondered where his own manor, with the sapphire willow, lay. He supposed he should have memories of the palace ring, but it all appeared so different with his adult stature and enhanced eyes. That, and he didn''t want to recall those sweet, easy days and the horrible, vicious night when it was all taken from him.

    "Fritz, are you alright?" Bert asked. "Did you see your old house or something?"

    "No, it''s not around here," Fritz said, averting his gaze from any tall trees that he might mistake for his own. "This place brings it all back. It''s like a knife that has been pointed at your chest sliding up to be held to your neck."

    Bert nodded, but Fritz could tell he didn''t understand. That was okay. He was here.

    They strolled north, passing by parks and gardens, ponds and pillars, statues and stately arches. The roads were sparse, serene. Carriages rolled past the pair at gentle paces, carrying nobles where they may. Occasionally they''d see a guard in the pale green scale, they stood at crossroads or patrolled the pretty parks, never interfering yet always watching. They bowed when Fritz strode close.

    It was eerie. It was quiet save the rain. Fritz shivered and not from the cold. Bert was getting restless like he wanted to start running and climbing the walls.

    Fritz didn''t blame him, as he was feeling the same, though he also had the irrational, indescribable desire to kick in those elegantly carved doors and shatter those pristine glass windows. Topple the pillars and drown these dwellings in blood, as his had been. Punish those who had stood by, hiding cruel smiles behind soft hands and whispering with glee, all while the Guides Guild pillaged his home.

    "There''s the dome," Bert said, pointing into the rain.

    And so it was. A clean white dome braced with brass on top of a rectangular building. It had no windows and a singular large door in its front. There must have been side entrances, but Fritz couldn''t see any from this angle. They picked up their pace, nearly jogging down the paved stone.

    When they reached the great wooden doors, they found them wide open, letting in the grey light of day. There was an entrance hall, white marble tiles lined the floor, and it was set with dark wooden stairs leading up to a second and a third floor. Across from them was a smaller door and wall of that same rich wood. It led into the archive itself and was guarded by a singular scale guard, whose only action was to give them a respectful nod as they peered into the hall.

    Fritz took a strident step onto the patterned tiles, then felt a sudden warmth wash over him. What little water had soaked his clothes was banished in one breath. His eyes caught the glowing orange lines of runes set into the brass doorframe, then they faded away in merely a moment.

    "Whoa," Bert said, his voice echoing in the hall.

    "What was that?" he added in a whisper that still carried through the hall.

    Fritz nearly winced, but instead smirked and said, "Enchantments. To keep out the water. Obviously. Now, speak no further."

    Bert, playing the dutiful servant to Fritz''s stern master, nodded as if he was well chastised.

    They continued into the archives proper, finding the sight beyond the smaller door a strangely familiar one. It was reminiscent of the lower floors of the sinking library they had ascended in the Mer Spire, there were three floors and the walls were covered with bookcases. Though it wasn''t all the same, this archive was not the chaotic mess of the Spire Floor. The books, scrolls and tomes were neatly arrayed on their respective, organised shelves. There were also many doors set into the walls, leading to what might be private studies or further repositories of knowledge.

    The air was dusty, dry but not harshly so, and the papery scent calmed Fritz''s too-ready nerves. Pale light spilled from a great crystal that hung from the roof, illuminating all above and below it with gentle white that rendered colour and contrast all the more vivid.

    Empty balconies overlooked the archive''s first floor, there was no one to be seen save a small gathering on the second floor. One of the group was a scale guard stood at attention, a grey-haired and grizzled veteran. The rest were young merfolk ladies, three of them, their collars and cuffs decorated with plenty of lace and their necks adorned with glittering jewels. They sat reading under dutiful watch.

    All three were beautiful.

    One of the women stood out to Fritz, his attentions nearly pulling his feet forward. He''d been caught, again, by that raven hair and those shining silver eyes. The guard immediately noticed his stare, and Bert''s drooling. He Activated some Treasure lantern on the table the women sat around, shrouding the balcony and its occupants in a dome of light fog that even Fritz''s powerful eyes couldn''t pierce.

    "I see why you wanted to come to the archives. Good choice," Bert said, nudging him with an elbow.

    Fritz wanted to chide the man but heard soft steps and the opening of a door to his right. He glimpsed the brass plaque that hung on the door''s exterior, it identified the woman now striding up to the pair as: The Lady Joyous Greysail, Third Assistant Archivist.

    She was wearing robes rather than a dress, and had her blonde hair in a functional, if elaborately braided, bun. Her form was of a human disposition and she had a gold-rimmed lenses still perched on her nose, distorting the shape of her lime green eyes.

    Fritz bowed gracefully at her approach and she curtsied in a proper, practised manner when she reached him.

    After that pleasant greeting, they stared at each other. She waited for him to speak, her gaze only for Fritz, ignoring Bert entirely. He wondered what she was waiting for, then remembered his manners.

    "Lord Hightide," Fritz introduced himself. "And my boon companion Albert Dale."

    Fritz could feel Bert''s annoyed glare stabbing straight into his back and he stifled a laugh.

    The lady smiled politely, though she didn''t acknowledge Bert at all. "And what brings the Lord to his majesty''s archive, are you seeking something specific?"

    "Just general information for now, whatever we can find on the Rain Spire, Attributes and any suitable Techniques," Fritz said as regally as he could manage. He could tell by the assistant archivist''s faltering smile that he''d breached etiquette or revealed his ignorance to her through some rudeness in his speech or roughness to his tone.

    "This is your first visit," she stated.

    "Correct, I was recently made aware that the use of the king''s archive was one of the privileges of my rank," Fritz said, slipping in the cool, subtle notes of Dusksong. She frowned, her eyes sliding to his chest, right where his Sanctum lay.

    Her brow creased and she took a step forward, staring hard.

    "Is there something on my shirt?" Fritz asked, looking down at himself.

    "No," the woman said abruptly. She noticed how close she was standing and stepped back swiftly, then took off her lenses, cleaning them on the fabric of her robe''s sleeve and not meeting Fritz''s eyes. "There was a strange blur. It''s gone now. Must have been a mote of dust," she added in way of an explanation.

    "Excuse the closeness. I did not mean to offend."

    "There is no offence to be taken," Fritz said magnanimously. "As you may have gathered, I am unfamiliar with the archive and its functions. Could you elucidate me?"

    "Of course," she said primly.

    From there she answered his questions and pointed him to where he could find some of the information he was searching for. It was more than he''d expected, though less than he''d hoped. He was entitled to peruse the first floor at his leisure or have one of his servants or the trusted custodians search for particular titles amongst it. Though he was unable to access the second and third floors or other more secure, or hidden, repositories within the archive''s walls and vault.

    When Fritz said he hadn''t seen any custodians the Lady-assistant said they must be about in the bookcases, returning or fetching books as requested.

    "If you light up one of the mana lanterns on the tables, one will come find you," she added.

    "How can one gain permission to use the higher floors?" Fritz asked.

    "That particular privilege is reserved by The King''s decree," Joyous stated.

    "No other ways?" he asked, disappointment mounting as he knew all the truly potent and useful books, and all the Techniques were just out of reach. Well, legally at least.

    "None other than The King can grant permission for the third floor," she reiterated. "You may appeal to his majesty and if he finds your claim just he will allow you to view more of his accumulated knowledge. As for the second floor, the archivist may allow you access if you gift something significant to The King''s collection."

    "I see," Fritz said, gauging the height of the balconies and assessing if he could simply jump to the next floor. He dismissed the thought, it would be warded, likely some kind of alarm or worse.

    The Lady went through the rules and he paid little attention to them. They were all obvious restrictions to protect the books or the silence. When she noticed he wasn''t listening she sighed.

    "The rules amount mostly to: No fire. No food. No fighting. And definitely no ff-rolicking," she said, her cheeks colouring.

    "Damn, those are my favourite things," Bert said, though he was still being ignored. He bristled at the treatment, yet kept ''mostly'' quiet.

    "And the books, they must remain here?" Fritz asked.

    "Correct, you can reserve them for your viewing or have a copy made for you by one of the scribes, but the books do not leave," she explained.

    "A copy?" Fritz asked.

    "Requires time and remuneration," she stated. "And Techniques as you know are near impossible to replicate."

    Fritz nodded. A Technique would have to be made in the same medium, with the same or similar materials, and perfectly, painstakingly, copied. Even minor alterations or mistakes could cause the Technique''s replication to fail, or produce an inferior, degraded or just plain false version.

    "Is it always this... barren?" He asked, motioning to the tables and having no further questions on the operations of the archive.

    "Unfortunately, yes," the woman admitted. "Many of the peerage have far too much pressing on their minds and time to read histories, theories or fictions all day."

    "And most houses have their own personal libraries," she added with a hint of envy.

    "Right," Fritz said. And with some curiosity, he asked, "Who''s up there?"

    She looked up to the foggy balcony he had waved to.

    "No one," Lady Greysail said, shaking her head slightly while her pupils widened with some fear.

    "Don''t ask," she whispered.

    "Very well," Fritz said, though the vehement denial of the groups presence had only stoked his desire to know.

    "Now, if you will excuse me, I have an ancient tome to translate," she said.

    With those parting words, she turned and returned to her office.

    "What a skulg. Did you see the way she ignored me?" Bert asked. "Rude."

    "I''m afraid that is typical of the nobility," Fritz said. "I think you should just be grateful she didn''t have you thrown out."

    "I won''t be grateful," Bert said.

    "That''s fair," Fritz allowed. "However, we have a task at hand remember. And many books to read."

    "Urgh," Bert complained. "I forgot."

    ---

    The pair spent three hours at the archive, mostly getting acquainted with the ordering system in place. As Fritz suspected, there were no Techniques or truly in-depth examinations of Advanced or Magical Attributes. The most interesting book he found, according to Bert at least, was a diet and guide to increasing one''s musculature and therefore one''s base strength.

    There were similar manuals for all the Base Attributes: Stretches and balancing exercises for Agility; tricks and mental practices to help with Memory, Focus and Perception; multiple torturous activities to help with Endurance; each more exhausting than the last.

    One such volume concentrated on extending the length one could hold their breath by nearly drowning themselves, while another purported that relentlessly running would increase stamina.

    Fritz didn''t know which of the manuals or treatises were the most effective or even if they were effective at all, however, he did what he could to retain what he read. Eventually, he had a headache and he felt restless. His eyes would pass over the written words and take not a single sentence in, then end up lingering on the sigil of his signet ring. After catching himself doing so for a third time, he called a stop to their study.

    He massaged the back of his neck and sighed, turning on the mana lantern and asking the meek, middle-aged, custodian to reserve the books they had picked out for when they came back. The man obeyed obsequiously.

    Fritz glanced up to the foggy balcony. The grey mist remained, swirling slowly, and not a sound could be heard issuing from it. He sighed again.

    "Let''s go, Bert," he said. "The books will be here tomorrow, and we''ll have the advantage of an earlier start. I''ll also get us some ink and paper to take notes."

    "What do you mean ''us''?" Bert asked, standing and stretching with a yawn.

    "What? Have you found this too boring?" Fritz asked.

    "Far too boring. And there''s not one book on beastmastery. I''ll leave this archive stuff to you," Bert said.

    "Giving up after only a couple of hours?" Fritz smirked.

    "When it comes to books, yes," Bert agreed.

    Fritz laughed which echoed loudly in the still and dry air. He stifled it quickly when the guard in the entrance hall peered in to see who was making all the noise.

    The two left. More enlightened yet also more unsatisfied.

    They strode through the rain and the Palace Ring streets, through the gates into the Upper Ring, heading home.

    They were barely done drying their hair in the hallway when there was a loud knock on the door.

    Thump. Thump. Thump.

    Each one rang with the weight of a sledgehammer.

    They looked to each other warily. Fritz shrugged and opened the door, apprehension searing him as he suspected he knew who lay behind.

    He wasn''t surprised at the face, but he was at the smile. Jagged Nic smirked up at the pair of them, his scarred visage and shaven, notched head gleamed unevenly in the light of dusk.

    "Nightshark wants to see ya."

 Arc 3 - Chaper 10

    "What?" Fritz asked, staring at the scarred man standing under the doorway and out of the rain.

    "You heard me," Jagged Nic replied in those tarred and gravelled tones, his smile slipping away.

    "How''d you find us?" Bert asked.

    "A little bird told me," Nic said, chuckling. "And you weren''t exactly quiet last night. A bunch of bruised gangs in the drowned district, a tavern fight at Tallies. Word is Barry''s still trying to find his balls."

    Bert laughed at that and Fritz thought it was more likely the little bird wasn''t so little, and was keeping an eye on them from the skies.

    "We just got back. Can we have some time to prepare?" Fritz stalled.

    "You''re already late, a couple more minutes won''t hurt, much," Nic said, shrugging hunched shoulders and causing water to cascade down his brown coat.

    "I was thinking more along the lines of a week," Fritz hedged.

    "Hah. No," Nic said.

    Fritz had known this was coming, though he thought he''d have a couple more days to scout and scheme.

    They stood there silently for a moment. Fritz''s mind spun, trying to form a plan that could buy them more time to act freely.

    "Not goin'' to invite me in? Mighty rude that is," Nic said.

    Fritz frowned. "Come on in," he offered, stepping aside. "Let''s sit in the lounge."

    "Nah," Nic said, his lip twitching. "I''m fine out here in the rain."

    Fritz smoothed his sudden frown. The man was playing with them.

    "Bert, get the thing," Fritz said.

    "The thing?" Nic asked suspiciously.

    "A gift. Or tribute. To the Nightshark," Fritz said.

    "Oh, ho!" Nic exclaimed. "Straight into bribery, already trying to get in their good graces. You really are one sneaky, scheming squidbedder."

    "Is that some great crime?" Fritz asked arrogantly as Bert retreated up the stairs.

    "Hah. Course not. You can do whatever you want to a squid," Nic said.

    Fritz frowned, again.

    Nic spat to the side. They waited.

    Fritz quickly considered his approach. He had planned what he would say to the Nightshark, he had weighed the words and the secrets he''d let spill. But no matter how much he had rehearsed in his head, dread settled in around him. It was like a giant''s hand closing around his chest and squeezing him slowly.

    With an exertion of Control and an application of Focus, he pushed the fear away. His hand gripped the hilt of Quicksilver, it still softly hummed from stored lightning. He let out a breath and met Nic''s cold stare. He had the eyes of a killer, though they weren''t mad like the raider''s, no, this was far more callous and uncaring. This man could murder him and then think nothing of it. He wouldn''t be haunted by nightmares.

    Bert burst down the stairs, a pack on his back and Dale secreted somewhere on his person, just as they had planned.

    "Ready?" Nic asked.

    "Yes," Bert said.

    "Lead the way," Fritz entreated.

    "Right, follow," Nic said, turning and trudging into the rain.

    They did so. Fritz closed the door behind him, and a mote of guilt sparked as he left his home and his team behind without a word.

    "Don''t worry," Bert said. "I told George we''d be back later. And if we don''t that they shouldn''t mourn us."

    "A little mourning would be appropriate, and a few tears would not go amiss," Fritz opined.

    "I know. I hope they cry a lot. I was just trying to sound humble," Bert said.

    Fritz nodded, agreeing easily.

    "Hurry up," Nic growled, his stomping gait had somehow carried him far ahead of the pair and they had to jog to catch up. The swift pace Nic set likely had something to do with the Speed Attribute they assumed he had.

    Nic led them to the Sunken Ring''s gates and they passed through with impunity. The storm guard looked the other way with well-acquainted ease. Seemingly they knew the lay of the land as coin didn''t even pass between them.

    From there, it was into the twisting and turning alleys until they came to a door. Nic knocked and with a clank and a creak the heavy wood swung open, revealing stairs down and another thug in a brown coat. He nodded to Nic, handing the scarred thug a lit lantern and letting them pass into the dark of the tunnels.

    It illuminated a few feet in front of them, and although they didn''t need the light due to their Night Vision Award, Bert still pretended he was blind to the winding tunnels ahead. After some time descending, and turning this way and that, Fritz thought he could hear something. The sound echoed eerily off the walls but at its heart, it was rhythmic and sweet.

    Music.

    Eventually, Bert noticed the noise and asked what it was, only to be met with a gruff, "You''ll see."

    They were led to another door, it was banded with rainsteel and needed to be unlocked by Nic with a heavy key of the same material. When the door was swung open, gentle light spilled out and a gust of warm wind washed over them. The escaping air carried floral perfumes, cloying colognes, spice, smoke and the smell of indescribable, sensual oils all on a dizzying wave. Those myriad swirling scents were an onslaught to Fritz''s powerful senses. His eyes watered and he stifled a sneeze, turning it into a cough.

    "Right, go on in," Nic said, motioning them through, following, then locking the door behind them.

    The door clanked closed with finality.

    The music could be heard more plainly now, it had a languid, bawdy beat and an ardent allure. Nic led them up the stairs and, after some more tunnel, through some dark-blue, velvet curtains.

    What they saw on the other side wasn''t exactly unexpected. The pair had heard tales of the Nightshark''s harem since they were young and didn''t even know what a harem was. He''d always thought the stories exaggerated. They were not.

    The room was large, littered with couches, cushions and walls were hung with tapestries and silks. In an alcove a trio of well-dressed musicals played, suffusing the slightly-smoky air with sensuous sound. The artful depictions of revelry on the walls weren''t what caught Fritz''s eyes though. All around, sitting, standing or sleeping were scantily clad men and women, at least thirty of them.

    Smooth skin, from alabaster to onyx, gleamed under the light of dim mana lanterns. The men were handsome, well-muscled and shirtless. The women were beautiful and wore see-through gowns and perilously provoking undergarments, if they wore any at all.

    Fritz''s steps faltered as he blinked at all the bared skin. Bert grinned wide, eyes dancing wildly over all the assorted beauties. Soon some curious gazes turned towards them, and there was a light lull in the chatter and other activities.

    "No gawking," Nic grumbled over one shoulder. "If you were early you might have had the chance to look. But you''re late and you don''t want to keep them waiting."

    Fritz tried to reply but found himself speechless. He merely nodded.

    "No fair," Bert grumbled, regretting their trip to the archive no doubt.

    They followed Nic, their steps plodding through the haze and past the languorous crowd.

    The interested eyes soon slid off them and those in this harem resumed their leisures, drinking fine wines and spirits, or imbibing other more esoteric substances while they talked and revelled.

    One set of eyes, however, didn''t leave them, those soft brown irises lit up with joy when they recognised Fritz and Bert as they trudged by.

    The red-headed woman lifted one graceful hand and waved at them playfully, her painted nails glittered. They quickly recognised her in turn.

    Veronica or Vee as she was known by her friends, lay on a long velvet couch and held a glass of dark wine in her hand. She smiled, curling red, red, lips at them and Fritz had to stop himself from stumbling again. She was also attired, or rather un-attired, as the others were. Her flowing shawl of gossamer hid nothing of her lacy undergarments or smooth, pale skin from view.

    "Vee," Bert said, pretending at calm while his eyes drank in her appearance with a glutton''s gleam. "New job treating you well?"

    "Very well, thank you, Bert," Vee said without a hint of worry, taking another sip of wine.

    "No chattering, you''re late," Nic growled, pulling Bert and Fritz along by the elbow. "And you, don''t talk to them. You know the rules."

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    "I know the rules. They say I don''t have to listen to you. I belong to the Nightshark," she stated, her nail tracing a black fang high on her collarbone.

    Vee turned her head and pointedly ignored his scowl. And although she spoke no further, she waved a farewell to the pair as they were pulled away.

    Fritz was surprised to see her here, and so much of her besides, but he was still worried for her. Even if she had proclaimed she was well, could the statement be trusted? And just how had she come to the Nightshark''s attention? Was this his fault too? Was this a trick?

    Fritz shook his head. Of course, it was some kind of trick, befuddle them with a display of delights, then they were likely to be subjected to some sort of vicious interrogation while they were still in a stupor. That smoke also had some odd, if weak, soporific effect, his coldly burning bones warned him so.

    They left the harem, into a hall with six doors leading into either bedrooms, showers or baths. One such bedroom was occupied by whom Fritz could only assume to be one of the harem and someone who had gained the Nightshark''s favour.

    The message was clear, there was much pleasure to be had if you pleased the Nightshark in turn.

    Though Fritz was intrigued, as any might be, he wasn''t too tempted. At least, not nearly as much as Bert was. It seemed the idiot was positively eager to meet the Nightshark now.

    Fritz held onto his caution, even as they were led into a new room at the end of the long tunnel, lit by a great jagged crystal raining down soft white light and small sparking motes of blue-silver.

    This room was more bare, though its floor also had cushions, chairs and couches, and its smooth stone walls were similarly hidden by curtains, blue and black. There, in the centre, was a pavilion of hanging silk, surrounded on all sides by a pool of slowly sloshing water. It reminded Fritz of a moat around a castle, and he thought he could see at least two dark shapes swimming in its depths.

    Nic brought them right to the edge of the water, and from here Fritz could see the silhouette of a large, strong man sitting on a large high-backed couch, they had someone, likely a woman sitting in their lap. Behind them, standing on either side, were two figures, both a bit shorter than Fritz''s own height.

    "Brought the two new boys, boss," Nic called out. Though he didn''t need to, Fritz knew theatre when he saw it.

    The man behind the curtains moved an arm and the silks of the pavilion parted and rose, revealing what lay beyond.

    The couch was large enough to be a bed and resembled an open clam, banded in rich, golden wood and cushioned in pale blue velvet. As he had seen through the curtains, there was a large man with brutal, handsome features. And there, sitting in his lap was a dainty merfolk woman, decorated in gleaming jewellery and whispering into his ear.

    His first instinct was to look at the bulky man, his common sense telling him that had to be the Nightshark. He was tall, thickly muscled and covered in scars and tattooed scales. The man''s shoulders flexed and he smirked.

    "You''re late," he said, in a booming voice that easily reached over the nearly thirty feet that separated them.

    They didn''t respond, caution demanded he glean as much knowledge from this meeting as he could. Any secret could be a sword, every word could be a shield.

    He searched the man''s face and bearing, and for a moment, Fritz thought he was staring into the face of the Nightshark, and was fooled. Then the illusion was broken, shattered as soon as he glanced down to the fawning woman in the man''s lap and met those deep red eyes.

    It was like staring into a tide of blood and hunger. That was the Nightshark. He could feel it in his bones. It wasn''t just the eyes though, it was the sense of hidden power, the hundreds of invisible threads connecting her to her countless contacts, servants and bonds.

    Her eyes narrowed and glittered in what might be cold amusement. Fritz stifled a shudder and set to take her in.

    Even through that haze of bloodlust and cruelty, she was lovely. Wavy, black hair fell past her shoulders, framing a surprisingly young, pale face with a strong nose, cheekbones and chin that glittered with ridges of black scales. Her wine-red dress was elegant yet angled, with a high collar and long sleeves. It was tight enough that the shape of her scales could be seen through the fabric that wrapped her shoulders, arms and hips.

    As Fritz stared her proud pout crept into a sly smile.

    "Yes, I''m Fritz and this is Bert," Fritz said, aiming his words at the woman and praying his guess was correct. "We''ve come as you commanded, Nightshark."

    "Oh. No fun!" The woman exclaimed. "You guessed it too quickly, boy. Before I had time to tear out this pretty thing''s throat and watch your faces as he died."

    Her voice was sonorous, regal and all-too-pleasing for what she described. The man stiffened and paled as The Nightshark reached one ring-covered, delicate hand to his throat and patted it tenderly.

    "You see, this one has displeased me," she continued as she slipped off his lap and stood on her own bare feet. "He has been listening, or rather, remembering all the wrong things. And forgetting the rules."

    Her hand seized his throat tightly and although the man struggled, his bulk and strength were worthless against The Nightshark''s lithe arm. He couldn''t even tear the sleeve of her dress. Razor-sharp nails pierced his skin and blood poured out from his neck.

    "Alas," she said. The man gurgled and tried to yell, failing as he choked on his own broken flesh.

    "The surprise is ruined," The Nightshark stated.

    She effortlessly dragged the man to the edge of the pool, and one of the dark shapes stirred, then sped for the surface. The Nightshark dangled the man into and over the stirring waters, blood trickled freely, staining the pool red.

    Fritz watched the scene unfold, frozen in horror.

    A shark, eighteen feet long and the colour of tar, leapt from the water. It tore the lower half of the man away in one bite before continuing its graceful arc back into the pool.

    "Good girl," The Nightshark purred, then she threw what remained to the other dark shape looming below the waves. Another, only slightly smaller, shark raced towards the bloody torso. The man''s last coarse cry was cut off as he was pulled under the water and into the depths.

    The Nightshark strolled back to her couch and sat, crossing one shapely leg over the other while leaning back, observing her audience.

    No one spoke. Fritz felt sick. With an effort, he lifted his eyes from the bloody bubbling and to the perfectly poised woman sitting across from them.

    Bert was frowning, but shrugged off the gruesome sight quickly and smiled at The Nightshark. He was resilient like that.

    She raised an eyebrow.

    "Didn''t know you were a woman," Bert said bluntly. "Can''t say I mind though."

    "Especially one so beautiful," Fritz added, and he didn''t even have to lie.

    She smiled, baring her teeth, they were pristine white and pointed like fangs. The sight might have frightened Fritz if he wasn''t already inured to such strangeness by Rosie''s grin.

    "What is it you wanted to see us for?" Fritz asked as obsequiously as he could manage. "Have we offended you in some way?"

    "Have you, indeed?" She asked, watching them.

    "I can think of nothing," Fritz lied, lacing his words with Dusksong. "We have been keeping our silence and have been sparse with our violence."

    The Nightshark pursed her lips, then her gaze flicked over his body, lingering on his Treasures, his signet ring and finally the hilt of Quicksilver. Fritz caught the flash of annoyance in her eyes, then a deadly smirk crept over her face.

    "Moonsilver," she said, then turned her head slowly to one of the figures standing behind her.

    Fritz hadn''t paid the two much notice until now, he probably should have.

    One was a scarred and grizzled Browncoat, similar in stature to Nic. Though this man had a full head of black hair, flecked with white and had a pair of daggers belted at his waist. That man wasn''t the one the Nightshark turned to. No, she levelled her gaze on a figure wearing a washed out dark blue cloak, their head hooded and concealed in shadow.

    Fritz''s heart pounded. Beating out in terror.

    Even through the shade, the outline of Sid''s pretty features could be seen, though she kept one side of her face covered. How had he not noticed her standing there? Even with all the hideous distractions and the alluring diversions, he should have seen her.

    Chiding himself, he almost moved, nearly took a step forward and cried out to her. The dark water and a flexing of his Control stopped him.

    "What of it?" Sid asked in gruff tones.

    "Isn''t that what you gifted to me when we first met? The head of that hound with bones made of moonsilver?" The Nightshark asked.

    "Don''t know much about metals," Sid stated, shrugging.

    "Do you know these two?" She asked, motioning to Fritz and Bert.

    "Yeah," Sid said, avoiding looking at them. "They went in the Spire in the same group as me."

    "Nothing more?"

    "Nothing more," Sid said.

    "Then why do your hearts pound like those of lost lovers reunited?" She asked coldly.

    Sid glanced to Fritz and he was struck by the bright blue of her eyes and the worry hidden within.

    Their gazes met. And he knew. It was real.

    "What a disappointing development," The Nightshark said. Her voice was still polite, proper, but it had taken on a dangerous tone and her smile was now long dead. "And I actually believed you Climbed mostly alone."

    The Nightshark returned her penetrating gaze to Fritz and Bert.

    "You three completed the Golden Climb together, didn''t you?" She asked.

    The pair glanced to each other.

    All the lies and half-truths Fritz was planning to tell were cut apart in a moment by the woman''s sharp senses and imposing instincts. Now that he had met the Nightshark, had seen this lurking threat, he knew, that somehow he had still underestimated her. Even though he had heard all the tales and believed most of them they didn''t do her justice.

    In that moment he knew that only servitude would save them. It infuriated him, made his chest burn. He clenched Quicksilver''s pommel. Dusksong spat and spiked discordantly. Eldritch flame deep within roiled as his Sanctum stormed. He pushed down his pride, forced away his need for freedom and focused on survival.

    Just for now, he told himself. Just until I''m strong enough, he repeated.

    The promise mollified the song, but did nothing for the flame.

    "We did," Fritz admitted, breaking the tense silence.

    "And what was the purpose of this subterfuge?"

    "We didn''t want to be dragged here," Fritz said.

    "And lose all our Treasures," Bert added.

    "Greed then?" She asked.

    "No, I didn''t want to submit, to you," Fritz stated, letting his Dusksong spit spitefully. "I wanted to be free for longer."

    "I see," The Nightshark said, deliberate calculation hiding behind her bland facade. "A sneaky, greedy liar and one who seeks, what? Freedom? You should know there''s no such thing in this city. Not while I rule."

    "I understand that. Now, " Fritz said. "I regret my past rashness. I hope you''ll forgive my transgressions."

    The Nightshark wasn''t impressed, but his obsequiousness seemed to ease her somewhat.

    "And what of you, Bert? Are you the same?" She asked, turning to the man.

    "Of course! We''re brothers," Bert said proudly, slamming a fist on his chest.

    "Is that so? And what is that?" She asked pointing at a strange bulge under his shirt.

    "My best friend, Dale," Bert replied, reaching under his shirt and pulling the snail off himself with a slurping pop. He held Dale aloft for all to see.

    The Nightshark stood, then strode towards the pool, she leapt the thirty feet of water that separated them, landing with a light thud, right in front of Bert.

    "Some sort of snail beast?" She asked, intrigued, her eyes alight with desire.

    "Yes, we called it a rust snail," Bert said. "Or a salt snail since the ones we found sprayed salt acid."

    "Very interesting, its shell colouring is exquisite. Though it does look to be a graceless, gangly creature," she said, mostly to herself. "Give it to me."

    "I can''t, he''s already bonded," Bert said.

    "Break it," The Nightshark demanded.

    "No," Bert refused.

    "We have a gift!" Fritz cried out.

    But he was too late.

    The Nightshark''s hand was around Bert''s neck before he could blink. Bert''s body still reacted. The Arte Pugilist was ingrained too heavily in him for him not to counterattack. His free arm came up and seized her wrist, then he spun, flinging the Nightshark up and over his shoulder.

    She soared through the air, a spiral of black scales, pale skin and red fabric. She landed lightly on her feet, then turned. The Nightshark was completely unruffled save one strand of black hair that fell over her face, which she tucked away with practised dignity.

    Bert fell to a knee clutching at his neck, blood dripped from between his fingers, from where her nails had sliced right through his flesh. The Nightshark strolled up to the kneeling man and stared down at him callously. She flicked droplets of blood off her nails, spattering his face with specs of red.

    "What a waste," She stated. "Dying for your beast aids no one. You can just bond something new, something better."

    "Who said anything about dying," Bert croaked out, grinning up at her.

    Her mouth twitched, whether it was annoyance or amusement Fritz couldn''t tell.

    "Vitality? No, you''d need more than that to recover from having your throat cut," she said. "Interesting."

    "And you, you said something about a gift?" She asked, turning to Fritz

    "Yes, in the pack there," Fritz said quickly.

    "Get it," she ordered, still watching as Bert still bled. Absently she lightly licked her upper lip.

    Fritz rushed to obey, his hands shook as he opened the pack, and within moments he was presenting the Nightshark with the clay jar containing the aberrant eel''s egg.

    "Open it," she commanded.

    He did, then showed her the clear orb with the occasionally sparking cloudy mass in its centre.

    "What is this?" The Nightshark asked.

    "An egg, it came from the nest of an aberrant lightning eel," Fritz explained shakily.

    Her red eyes lit with wonder, then deep suspicion.

    "And just why did you think this would make a good gift?"

    "Well, I don''t mean to boast. However, with my sharp eyes and keen awareness, I noticed something odd about some of the birds and beasts. They would wait and watch, much like a sentry. And knowing what I know from Bert''s own bond, I deduced you were a beastmaster," Fritz boasted, trying to make it seem an easy leap of logic.

    "You deduced it?" She asked in an unbelieving, deadly tone.

    "Yes," Fritz stated, pulling on all the Dusksong he could to make the word ring with certainty.

    The rubies set upon The Nightshark''s necklace of gold links gleamed softly in response. Fritz''s gut fell, and he hoped the woman hadn''t noticed it. He stared into her face, and luckily, she only had eyes for the egg.

    "Did you know that aberrants can''t be bonded? And that trying to do so can kill a Climber or send them insane? That they''re poison?" She asked.

    Before Fritz could respond or deny any attempt at assassination, she continued speaking. "I suppose not, it''s rare knowledge. And not a mistake someone will make more than once. Aberrants fight the link, and their minds are evil, twisted things, full of hate and hunger."

    "This egg though," she said, taking the jar gently from Fritz''s hands. "Still has yet to be born. It''s soul too weak to resist the bond."

    "This is a wondrous gift. One whose worth is beyond your ken. I am pleased with your tribute," she said, finally looking up and smiling at the two of them.

    This was her true smile and it did not comfort in the slightest, it was just as mad and sharp as she was.

    "Still, what am I to do with you two?" She said.

    "Let us serve," Fritz pleaded.

    "Yes, we''ll do anything you want," Bert said, standing and still holding his throat. The bleeding had slowed to a drip, and preposterously, he winked. "Anything."

    "We''re useful, I promise," Fritz entreated, this time suppressing his Dusksong lest those rubies light up again.

    The Nightshark assessed them coldly, patting the jar and tilting her head slightly as if to see them from another angle.

    A small sly smile crept up her lips.

    "Tell me of your uses."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 11

    "Uses?" Fritz asked.

    The Nightshark turned and walked towards her high-backed couch that served as a throne.

    "What can you do? For me," she reiterated.

    Fritz focused his gaze on the small of her back and while she strode away, sultry and confident. He felt a twang in the air, like an invisible thread had been plucked. The black sharks in the pool floated gently to the surface and presented their shining backs to the open air.

    The Nightshark walked over the bridge of black backs without worry, then sat on the clam-styled couch, setting herself in the centre as if she were a pearl.

    All were quiet, Sid and the other Browncoat simply stood by just as they had been, Sid''s face was blank while the man hid a smirk.

    "Well?" The Nightshark asked.

    Fritz took a second to think and Jagged Nic pushed his back, nearly tipping him into the water to join the sharks and their terrible, serrated teeth.

    He wanted to glare at the thug, but the Nightshark was watching and waiting for a response.

    "Well, we''re Golden Climbers," Fritz said. "We can Climb and we''re strong."

    "And tough," Bert said.

    "That makes you dangerous, not useful," she noted harshly.

    "I''m a decent thief," Fritz said. "And have only become more capable with the addition of my powers. If you need something I can get it for you."

    She nodded, then turned her eyes to Bert, softening somewhat.

    "I can punch things mighty good," Bert stated. "And can take a beating. Or a cut or two," he added, taking his hand away from his neck and showing four long cuts that had finally stopped bleeding.

    Just one of those wounds would have killed a man, left them lying face down in a pool of their own blood. Just how potent was the man''s recovery? Fritz wondered. Even the Nightshark looked impressed.

    "You''ll make a fine enforcer then. If you can bear to be parted from your brother," the Nightshark said.

    "We''re joined by blood, not at the hip," Bert said seriously.

    "Hmm," she hummed, thinking, setting down the clay jar beside her and resting one hand over its lid.

    "Do you have any particular needs? Perhaps we could fulfil those?" Fritz asked.

    Her eyes twinkled.

    "You''re both quite handsome, charming even," she stated. "You would do well in my harem. Don''t you agree, Sid?"

    Sid looked away, not answering. Fritz hid a flinch while Bert grinned.

    The Nightshark chuckled, then said, "No, that would be a waste of your true talents. Few Golden Climb the Sunken Spire, and even fewer wish to continue afterwards. Many seek to sit idle on their newfound Power, unlike you two. Straight into the Mer Spire, I hear."

    "That''s correct."

    "There was a golden pulse a couple of days ago, that was you?"

    "Yes, we were rather successful. Far more successful than I expected," Fritz said, attempting humility.

    "Quite. And your team. Did you tell them of the Sunken Spire?" She asked, her piercing gaze staring right through him.

    "No, I said we had climbed the Mer Spire before, pretended at a Silver Climb," Fritz explained, giving an oft rehearsed story.

    "And they believed you?" She asked.

    "What can I say? I''m persuasive," Fritz said.

    "I''m starting to see that, Lord Hightide," The Nightshark observed. "It does not please me. It rather makes me want to tear you and your cunning tongue to pieces."

    I wasn''t the threat that gave Fritz pause. No, rather it was the casual use of his title.

    Still, he continued, retreating into flattery. "I am gladdened by your restraint, though more in awe of your intelligence. And beauty."

    She smiled, she knew his game, but seemingly didn''t mind the compliments, especially seeing as they were entirely true.

    "Two Golden Climbs. And one without apparent casualties," she mused, tapping one pointed nail on her bottom lip. "Once could be a fluke, but twice shows competence. And that would only be the case if you were prepared as the nobility normally are. You three Golden Climbing the Sunken Spire reveals something else. Something akin to genius."

    "More a will to survive," Fritz argued, not sure how he felt being proclaimed a genius.

    "Will isn''t enough," the Nightshark stated. "Quality, that is to say, innate ability, matters. However I, unlike the king, know that there are potential gems drowning in the gutters. You just have to sieve the muck to find them. And there is that ancient saying: enough pressure can turn a lump of coal into a clear diamond."

    Fritz stifled a scowl and held back his, somewhat-obvious, retort: that people weren''t coal.

    "That''s what the Sunken Spire is for?" Fritz guessed.

    "Among other things," the Nightshark agreed. "It also provides some unusual materials and Treasures not commonly available in this part of the world. But we have digressed. You''re a Scout?"

    "A Scout Captain," Fritz said.

    "Ah, youth. Bold, but ultimately foolish," she replied offhandedly. "How are your senses?"

    "I have Awareness, with high Perception as well as the Abilities: Danger Sense and Trap Sense," Fritz said, hoping he wouldn''t have to reveal his last, most important Sense.

    She tapped her finger on her lip thoughtfully.

    "Adequate, though not exceptional," she stated.

    The Nightshark stared at them, though mostly at Fritz. Over one tense minute, cold calculation crept into cruel indifference.

    "No, you''re too dangerous," she finally said.

    With a languorous flick of her hand, she motioned a command to her browncoats. "Kill the lordling. I''ll keep the other one."

    "No!" Both Bert and Sid cried.

    They were too slow to act. Fritz could already feel the fist rushing toward the back of his head, the terrible force of the impact, the shattering of his skull and the snapping of his spine. Even with his Danger Sense''s agonising warning and his quick reaction, he was too slow to dodge. The world went cold as Nic''s steely fist sped right through his body, dispersing the wispy shadow he had become.

    Another punch, then another, quick as bolts of lighting, slid through him without harm. Nic executed another such combination of punches, succeeding only in rustling the wind.

    Fritz wove his Lethargy curse into the man while he slid from his reach, unsheathing quicksilver and crying out, "Wait! I have Door Sense!"

    His yell came out in a whispery wail, yet it still had the intended effect. The Nightshark signalled a stop. Nic pulled back a punch that spat strange cracking energy like his arm was splitting fissures into the air around it. The man cursed, growled, then shook out the magic that wracked his dark iron hand.

    Now that Fritz had a moment to look, he saw that it wasn''t the only part of the man that seemed to be made of dark iron. His clothing had remained the same, but Nic''s whole body looked sculpted, badly, of some black metal, and gleamed dully in the bright white light.

    Bert rubbed at his chest and stood up from the cold stone, obviously having been struck and knocked down when Fritz wasn''t looking. He glared at Nic, who paid him no mind.

    Sid had taken one step forward, but had been swiftly stopped in her tracks by a pair of daggers. The other Browncoat had acted and was now standing behind her, one black, stone dagger poised at her neck and another identical one angled to easily slip under her ribs and into her heart.

    No one moved, they waited for The Nightshark.

    "Some sort of reactive phasing or shadow transformation. An interesting Ability. Though not as interesting as what you just said. Door Sense? Truly?" The Nightshark asked, leaning forward slightly.

    Fritz hesitated, now that the squid was out of the bag there wasn''t any reason to be so cautious. Yet, that avaricious, nearly lustful, gleam in her eyes was one he knew well. It was the same look any predator wore when they had found and trapped their prey.

    "Truly," Fritz admitted.

    "How many doors are there into this room?" She probed.

    Fritz pulsed his Awareness, letting Door Sense ride on the wave. He detected more doors than he expected to. The most intriguing was a trap door, covered with the same smooth stone as the floor, right under the couch The Nightshark sat upon.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    He silently chided himself for not checking for escape routes or hidden bolt holes like the ones he could now feel. It was necessary to be aware of all the ways out. Now that he had gained a little power he found he had been neglecting his hard-learned thief''s habits, the ones that had kept him alive.

    "If you can''t tell me that much-" The Nightshark began, interrupting his internal reprimanding.

    "Six," Fritz declared.

    "Where?" She asked, her interest piqued.

    "One behind us, one across from where we stand. One to the left there behind that curtain, two under the water, likely connecting to the various flooded tunnels below. And one more just-"

    "That''s enough," she said, cutting him off before he could reveal the last and likely secret trap door.

    She stared at him, searching him for any hint of deception. When she found none an orb of dark crystal appeared in her hand as if it were summoned from a Personal Pack. It was about the size of a human head, if a little smaller, and its depths were dyed a flat, inky darkness. She held it out as if she wanted him to take it.

    When he didn''t dare move, she ordered him forward. Fritz glanced at Sid, still held at dagger point.

    With her brow creasing in annoyance, she signalled to her Browncoat to withdraw. He slid his daggers back into their sheaths reluctantly, his movements humming with the hesitancy of a recent, if tightly held, grudge.

    The Nightshark motioned Fritz forward with one finger, and after returning Quicksilver to its scabbard he obeyed. He reached the edge of the pool and stopped, staring at the water warily.

    "Can''t swim?" Nic chuckled.

    "Not well," Fritz provided. "I''m heavier than I should be."

    "Ah. You got black-iron laced bones too?" Nic asked. "Lucky."

    Fritz said nothing as the sharks again swam up from the deep and made a bridge for him. He almost recoiled, but stopped himself before he could take a step away. His stomach roiled with dread, as the cold, black eyes of the beasts stared up at him.

    "Go on," The Nightshark said, chuckling. "They don''t bite."

    Fritz looked at her askance.

    "Unless you displease me further," she added with a coy smile.

    He hid his fear, smoothed his features and set his boot to the back of the first shark. Its flesh was surprisingly hard and its skin as coarse as sand. He let his weight fall on the beast and found it unyielding. Quickly, he strode across its back, using all the Grace he could muster so he didn''t slip. The sensation was akin to crossing a beach and soon, after hopping from one shark to the other he was standing across from the Nightshark and the outstretched orb.

    He had an idea of what the object was, some kind of Sanctum reading Treasure. He was almost certain, still, he asked, "What is it?"

    "Sanctum-Seer Orb," she answered.

    "How do I-"

    "Take it, activate it, hand it back," She said simply.

    "Don''t those project your Spire sheet for all to see," he asked nervously, glancing to the Browncoat.

    "They can, though we won''t be doing so," she said. "Now stop stalling and do it."

    Fritz took the orb, he felt wretched, like he was being asked to strip naked before the whole room. Still, he held the dark sphere and Activated it. Immediately a spot in his chest burned coldly, then that cool heat spat into furious, hot, fire. A flicker of green-blue light sparked in the centre of the crystal orb and the blackness within boiled.

    Fritz let out a cry as his left palm was burned, and his right glove was singed. He dropped the orb and it landed with a deep clunk.

    "What are you doing?" The Nightshark hissed as she stood and moved to scoop up the slowly rolling sphere.

    "It burned me," Fritz protested.

    "It''s just a minor pain, are you truly that soft?" She chided until she had the orb in her hands.

    "Why is it hot? What did you do?" She accused.

    "Nothing, I did only what you commanded," he argued.

    "I didn''t command you to drop my precious Treasure," she snarled.

    Fritz was about to argue further when he saw Sid shake her head slightly in warning. He held his tongue, but he wasn''t the only one to see the gesture.

    For whatever reason, this infuriated the Nightshark. She swiftly strode two steps to where Fritz stood and raked one nail down his face. Again, he was too slow to act, it seemed all the Awareness, Grace and Perception weren''t enough to contest The Nightshark''s own Attributes.

    It would have cut him deeply, left a long, thin scar right down his left cheek, he was sure. His Danger Sense predicted as much. He was saved, again, by his Umbral Phase, though this time he didn''t reach for his blade.

    It was fortunate that he didn''t, it would have made things even worse. The Nightshark glared at him, obviously indignant of the fact he''d foiled her punishment.

    She smiled coldly, but there wasn''t any amusement in those terrible eyes.

    "Sid, come here. Since the Lord Hightide is too cowardly to face discipline, you will bear it for him."

    Sid nodded stoically and stepped forward, pulling her hood from her face, revealing what she had been hiding on her left cheek. Two long, precise cuts, equidistant twins, red and running from just below her eye down to her jawline. They had been stitched by a practised hand, and he could smell the bitter tang of healing grease. Still, they were ugly and swollen.

    Fritz''s body returned to solidity as he struggled with what he saw and the righteous rage that roared within his chest.

    The Nightshark raised her hand, and watching Fritz''s expression, prepared to slice another long line into Sid''s cheek.

    "No!" Fritz demanded. "I will face the discipline."

    "What?" The Nightshark taunted. "Is that any way to request something of me, Lord Hightide."

    "Please, dole out my deserve-ed punishment," Fritz pleaded.

    "Better, but not enough, boy," she stated.

    "Please! Cut me instead," Fritz begged.

    It was too late. A swift slash and a grunt of pain, blood trickled to the floor and a shark snapped its jaws.

    Sid bore it without speaking, without even a tear forming on those irises of bright blue. Fritz looked on, feeling as helpless as a minnow. Their eyes met and his worry and guilt were met with thunder and a brewing storm. It was a stare that said: "Do not pity me."

    With an effort, he turned, instead, to the Nightshark, who was delighted by whatever face he was making. Fury threatened to burst free, but he held it close, condensing it into a small searing ember. He couldn''t fight her, not here, not now. But he would find a way, a way to end her reign and take her life. In that moment, he swore it, his Dusksong sang and his flame burned bright.

    "My, what a mutinous look you have," she mocked. "Does Sid need another to add to ''his'' collection?"

    Fritz didn''t rush to answer.

    "If it is your will, then, yes," he said, affecting the look of a beaten hound. "Though three cuts are auspicious, and four might bring bad luck."

    "You''re right on all counts," she allowed, nearly purring and replacing herself on the couch.

    Absently she licked a spot of blood off her nail, then peered into the orb she held on her lap. Within that blackness, there were now hovering glyphs that took on the shape of his Spire Sheet readout.

    His gut lurched as his powers were being laid bare. Though Fritz was getting used to that. This meeting had been terror after terror. Pain after pain. He preferred the Spires. He even preferred the Raider.

    "Francis Hightide, level twenty," she read, musingly. "Base Attributes are what I''d expect, if a tad lopsided. Advanced are a little more interesting. Awareness, as you said, Control, Grace and, you lucky boy, Nightwell."

    Fritz''s brow twitched and he fought to keep his face straight. Her gaze flicked to him, then her deep red eyes narrowed.

    "Do you have to reveal all my powers to those here?" He asked softly.

    Fritz shuffled in place, rolling his shoulders, trying to play up both his paranoia and shame rather than let her suspect his shock at the mention of ''Nightwell''. An Attribute he definitely did not have.

    She ignored his protest, staring back at the orb.

    "Boring, boring, oh, that''s interesting," she said, not elaborating on what she saw. "Two senses, and that phase. Ah, here it is. Your very first Trait, Door Sense. Very good."

    The Nightshark smiled.

    "Cloak of shadows. You have something similar don''t you, Craig?"

    "I do," the dagger-wielding Browncoat admitted without hesitation.

    "Ah! And this last one. You foolish boy. This is why you were burned," she stated pointing at one last, warped glyph. "Eldritch Flame."

    She shook her head.

    "Madness, taking in an Eldritch Flame. More insane though is that you survived it," The Nightshark expounded with some incredulity, some respect in her resonant tone.

    "It can''t be that uncommon, the Sunken Spire''s peak is alight with it," Fritz said.

    "You''re wrong," she said simply. "Too wrong, boy."

    Fritz burned with curiosity so keen he almost forgot his fear, yet he held back.

    "You, and your Powers in turn, are absurd," she said meeting his eyes, weighing him and his worth. "What am I to do with you?"

    "Before you give the order to murder me, again," Fritz said. "You should see this."

    He held out the bracelet of pink beads Tallie had given him.

    The Nightshark frowned.

    "Another absurdity," she said, sucking a small breath through her teeth. "You got That Woman to agree to shield you? She''s overstepping. I let her have her little fiefdom and all her whores-to-be. And she thinks she can dictate rules to me. In my city!?"

    The Nightshark seethed and her Browncoats stilled entirely.

    "I should tear her to pieces," she said coldly before calming herself. While her rage was fierce it seemed she had a tight grip on it.

    "Bert, you can start in the fighting rings, harden those fists of yours and make your name known in the right circles. Then you''ll tail Nic, he needs a new second," she ordered.

    Bert nodded reluctantly, though Fritz could see he was eager to fight in the underground rings.

    "Lord Hightide. You will report to Craig, he''ll put you through all the training you''ll need to carry out my commands."

    Fritz nodded, it was a better choice than being murdered. He did wonder, though, what she truly had in store for him.

    "I also hear you are attempting to reestablish your House, re-enter high society and return to court as head of your family," she stated. "It would be prudent that you did so, you can be useful in supporting my aims. I can make that easier for you. And those three signatures you need will be a triviality to acquire."

    Fritz considered the offer, but knew it came with too many chains. Any help he received would have to be repaid threefold, maybe more.

    "I thank you for your generous offer," Fritz said politely. "Unfortunately, I have to decline, if Hightide is to rise again it must be on its own merits."

    "On its own merits?" She scoffed. "How does that help me?"

    "I can serve you better when there are no apparent connections," he replied smoothly. "I will be under scrutiny for sure, so it is best to have as little contact as can be."

    ''Foolish, they will know you have such connections from your bond with Bert," she countered easily.

    "The less certain ties the better. It would seem as though I''m straddling the line between the gutters and the nobility. An intermediary, not a direct avenue of your interests, but someone who has a way to reach you, due to my friendships and my time on the streets."

    The Nightshark considered his words and allowed them.

    "A grey noble?" She asked.

    "Standing ever tall.

    His colour''s grey, his flag the way,

    and all will hear his call," Sid whispered.

    "What?"

    "Nothing, a verse from a Jastili song I overhead," Sid stated. "It just popped into my head."

    "I wouldn''t repeat it on land," The Nightshark warned. "In fact, you should pop it out of your head."

    Sid shrugged. "Couldn''t make out most of it anyway."

    The Nightshark returned her gaze to Fritz, then she came to some conclusion.

    "Very well, do as you will. No climbing until I give you leave, and Craig will find you in the coming days for your assessment and training. Bert, your fights start tonight."

    Bert grinned and Fritz smiled as much as he could manage.

    "Not going to test me with the orb?" Bert asked.

    "No," The Nightshark said.

    "Why not?"

    "It still needs to refresh and I''m not sure it''s worth the cost," she stated blandly.

    With a slight gesture, a thin stick appeared in The Nightshark''s hand. It was about a foot long, glossy black with gilded rings down its length. At one end was shaped into a golden point, like a spearhead with its tip stained black.

    "Take off your shirt, and approach," she ordered, waving Fritz forward.

    "I''m not interested in joining your harem," Fritz said glibly, though he did as she said.

    She ignored his comment. "Kneel."

    He kneeled, stifling his scowl.

    "What is that?" Fritz asked fearfully, not all of it being an act.

    "A Treasure that ensures silence."

    "What does it do?"

    "If you speak to anyone about me, or the Spire, you will die," she explained succinctly as she ran a finger over his collarbone. "Writing counts too," she added.

    "Could you be more specific?"

    "No," she said, stabbing Fritz gently with the Treasure, just above his heart.

    It was a mere prick of pain, hardly worth the dread, until cold, like liquid ice, spilled under his skin and he gasped involuntarily. He could feel its magic, it was akin to his Lethargy curse, if darker, deadlier, a blade pointed at his soul.

    Then the Treasure''s needle was removed, leaving the freezing feeling and a black fang tattooed upon his flesh. She ran a finger over it and smiled when it didn''t smudge. Her eyes glinted as they roamed his bared chest.

    "Is that all? Your grace," He asked, seizing upon a small chance.

    The Nightshark tilted her head in a nod.

    "You next," she said gesturing at Bert. He crossed the shark bridge less gracefully than Fritz but far less fearfully.

    Fritz stood and stepped back, hiding his rapidly roiling emotions. There was too much rushing through him to handle so he pushed it all down and watched his brother receive his own mark.

    "You know, I never said no to the harem," Bert said with a sly grin.

    She smiled down at him, running her hand over his skin in a sensuous circle. With a cruel delight, she pierced him with the Treasure, digging it in more harshly than she had with Fritz.

    The rough treatment only caused Bert to grin wider.

    "I''ll think about it," she whispered, but in the silence, it carried to everyone watching.

    "Stand," she said after pulling out the Treasure and checking the black fang with a wipe of the thumb.

    Then the stick was gone, sucked away along with the Sanctum-Seer Orb. All that was left was the jar with the lightning eel egg. She took it up with what was approaching a warm smile.

    They waited on her dismissal.

    "Go," She said, waving them away. "Oh, and thank you for the gift. I''m sure this beast will be a true terror in due time."

    They obeyed, though the thought that they had just handed the Nightshark such a potent weapon shook Fritz. He honestly hadn''t considered the implications and had been thinking of only his own skin. He pushed it down with all the other tempestuous emotions. He rubbed at the black fang, and the ice left beneath his skin.

    Bert and Fritz followed Nic as he led them away.

    Fritz turned back only once, catching Sid''s stoic, sorrowful gaze. She stared and he looked away unable to continue the aching eye contact. He felt like a skulg, he hadn''t meant for her to suffer for his failure.

    He had survived, again. But at the cost of his freedom, his pride and his dignity. He should have considered the meeting a success as both he and Bert lived, and had a chance to prove their worth to The Nightshark. Yet it all felt so bleak, so bitter.

    Under her they could become powerful. Though not too powerful, never strong enough to usurp her.

    He sighed, pushing those thoughts away for later.

    Much later.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 12

    They followed Nic out of the Nightshark''s ''throne'' room. Bert strode solidly, while Fritz held himself stoically, despite the hollow weight in his chest that was a remnant of the harrowing meeting.

    "You lied to me," Nic said as he led them through a different set of tunnels, one that didn''t lead them through the harem, much to Bert''s disappointment.

    "We got you good," Bert agreed.

    Nic grimaced.

    "You killed Kev," he stated.

    Fritz was about to speak when the thug interrupted him.

    "Don''t bother denying it. I can tell piss from rain."

    "I won''t then. I killed him, strangled him with my leather laces," Fritz said, keeping his voice cold. "Do you seek vengeance?"

    "Vengeance? For that prick? Nah. But he was in a brown coat. As you two will be soon. And one of the rules is not to murder your fellows. Now that you''re one of us, and you know better, the punishment won''t be a slice down the cheek. No, it''ll be a slice over the throat. Or worse."

    Jagged Nic ran his thumb over his neck, scowling as he spoke.

    "You''re surprisingly forgiving," Fritz hedged.

    "What? You callin'' me soft? Not me. I''m as spiteful as they come. It just has to be worth it," Nic said.

    "I mean, Kev was your second wasn''t he?" Fritz asked. "Wouldn''t that be ''worth it''?"

    Nic glanced over his shoulder at Fritz with a perplexed scowl.

    "Do you want me to hold a grudge against you?" He growled.

    "Well, no," Fritz said swiftly. "I just thought it was odd that you''d be so... ambivalent about the whole affair."

    Nic shrugged.

    "He was a dumb arsehole who pissed me off plenty. I go through a bunch of those kind of thugs. I get bored sick of their pointless cruelty. Honestly, you did me a favour, seeings as I didn''t have to do it myself. "

    "If you didn''t like him what stopped you?" Fritz asked.

    "Kev only lasted as long as he did cause me sister was fond of her only son," Nic said.

    "Can''t see why," Bert said.

    "Aye, but you know how mothers can be," Nic said.

    "Not really," Bert said.

    "Right, well, they can be mighty blind. Vengeful too, so don''t go shouting about murdering the bastard," he warned.

    Fritz and Bert nodded.

    "Wait, ''you go through a bunch of those thugs all the time?''" Fritz repeated. "Didn''t you say not to kill your fellows?"

    "Those are rules you have to follow. I just enforce them," Nic said. "Can''t very well punish myself. Would be unthinkable it would."

    "Is there a list of these rules somewhere?" Fritz asked.

    "It''s not written down, but we''ll get to it later," Nic said. "Or rather, Craig Cutter, will. When you get to learnin'' what you can from the sneaky prick."

    Fritz nodded, noting the man''s name. It was one he had heard before, though not as much as Larry''s or Nic''s, and it brought with it a bloody reputation, as most did in the gutters. The few tales he had heard of the man were those of quiet executions, throats slit in beds or quick stabbings in alleys. Though the latter could really have been anyone.

    "Right, Bert, this way to the ring," Nic said, leading them out into the dark streets of the bluestone district.

    The rain came down heavily, the wind blew hard and the clouds threatened a storm.

    "Can''t wait," Bert said. "But will there be any fighters who can match me?"

    "Just you wait, we got all sorts down here. Including some foreign folk looking to test their mettle and make some triads."

    "Is it only fists? Or are there duels too?" Fritz asked somewhat intrigued and considering trying his own hand.

    "Mostly fists," Nic said. "We don''t have the same Treasures or skilled healers as the duelling ring in the Upper Ring. So a bad wound from a weapon or Ability is more likely to be deadly."

    "Not for me," Bert boasted.

    "Aye. I''m thinkin'' you''ll do well," Nic agreed.

    "What are the prizes like?"

    "Mostly gold and glory," Nic explained.

    "I can do with the gold, but I can''t spend glory," Bert said.

    "You can. But maybe glory is the wrong word for it, it''s more like uh." Nic paused, searching for a word.

    "Notoriety?" Fritz provided.

    "That''s right. Notoriety. People will fear you before you have to threaten them. Always makes our job easier if they''ve already seen you beat a man into a paste. Wastes time havin'' to show them that you can break them to bits without hassle."

    Over his conversation with the man, he was finding the thug to be more cunning and collected than he had previously assumed any of the Nightshark''s bosses were. Though it made some sense, Nic wouldn''t have survived as long if he was simply a mean brute like Fritz''s previous gang boss, Kind Ron, was.

    They strode through the rain to a large building with a heavy, iron-banded door. Nic knocked, and a slot set in the wood opened, revealing hard eyes. The man on the other side recognised Nic and let them all through without question. The smell of rust was heavy in the air, or perhaps it was dried blood.

    They made their way down some stairs, into a great domed cavern. Terraced, stone benches rose around a circular walled field of dirt, and held at least enough sitting room for a thousand people. In the ring, no less than three fistfights were happening at once. The cheers and jeers of the audience rose and fell with the intensity of the action below.

    "Where did all these places come from?" Fritz wondered, thinking the smooth underground domes too similar to be anything naturally forming.

    Nic shrugged. "It was before my time, but I hear that The Nightshark hired a stone shifter to carve them out."

    "Huh. Must have been expensive," Bert said.

    "Never asked," Nic said. "Right, let''s get you on the list, Bert."

    Bert nodded. The thug trudged away and began to talk to a man in a thick coat and a tall hat. The man listened to Nic, nodding along.

    Bert turned to Fritz.

    "You gonna join up too?" He asked.

    Fritz was tempted for a moment and gripped Quicksilver''s pommel. While he was considering the notion, he heard a sharp crack, then the roar of the crowd. He saw a man wavering on his feet, his jaw broken. It hung loosely as the fighter tried to stay standing, only for a punch to send him to the bloody dirt with a thud, accompanied by more cheers and boos.

    Fritz grimaced at the sight. The overwhelming noise was beginning to give him a headache.

    "I think not. I like my skull intact and my jaw unbroken, thank you," Fritz stated.

    "Suit yourself softy-squid. I''m gonna get in there and show them what I got," Bert said. "Watch my first bout won''t you?"

    "Of course, it''s your debut!" Fritz agreed easily. "I''ll be there with a beer once it''s over."

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "You better make it a whisky," Nic said, having returned. "You''ll want to celebrate."

    "Why''s that?" Fritz asked.

    "We have a bit of a tradition down here," Nic said, nearly smirking. "But you''ll see soon enough. They''re finding your opponent, might take almost an hour, depending on where he is."

    "It''s someone specific then?" Fritz asked.

    "Don''t you worry about it. Come, let''s watch some fights while we wait," Nic said.

    ---

    Bert was excited. After watching a few fights and having more than a few drinks, he had been led into a small room and been told to change into clothes that ''weren''t so fancy.'' He did so, setting aside his Mer Spire clothes, pulling on some rough trousers and tying them tight with a belt of rope. Humming tunelessly, he wrapped his hands and wrists with some strips of cloth as was outlined in The Arte Pugilist.

    Bert forwent a shirt, as most did, knowing it was just more to grab onto. Looking down on his bare chest, he noticed the dark new mark and worried. That black fang was meant to kill him if he spilled any secrets. He wasn''t at much risk of that, he feared more for Fritz. That idiot really couldn''t keep his mouth shut.

    With a small effort Bert shook the worry off his shoulders, it wasn''t like him to care about such things. So he wouldn''t, he''d leave all that to Fritz.

    The crowd outside cheered and it called to him. The sound was just like that of his Sanctum''s arena, and soon they would be screaming his praises, which he deserved. He''d give them a show and a half.

    "Ready?" The man in the tall hat asked. "How''s your neck? It healed up?"

    Bert ran a hand over his throat. It had mostly recovered. Those four shallow cuts were now glossy pink lines, having been aided along by some Ability the ring''s healer had used.

    "Yep, all better," Bert replied eagerly, letting his passion show. "Who am I fighting?"

    "You''ll know ''em when you see ''em," the man said. "Know the rules?"

    "Mostly," Bert replied.

    "Well for this bout: No Active Abilities or Traits. It''ll just be your passives and personal fighting skill, got it?"

    "Got it!"

    "Go on then, you get the whole ring for yourself on your first fight, make it count!"

    Bert rushed past the man and jogged out into the hall, then into the ring and onto the dry dirt. He raised his arms to some scattered applause and a couple of cheers from some of the drunker members of the crowd and set himself in the middle of the arena. He spotted Fritz''s handsome face in the audience, his fine features set surely, as if he had perfect confidence in his blood brother.

    Bert knew that some of it was an act, but it still settled his own nerve.

    He waited for his opponent to appear.

    A large, lumbering man with a gut like a boulder, strode out. Jeers, yells and a few high whistles sounded as the man made his way to stand before Bert. He was close-shaven and scarred, a common style for the thugs in the gutters.

    The man smiled crookedly, in a way that almost looked compassionate. Bert grinned back in grim recognition. He clenched his fists, holding back a flurry of punches. The eager desire to fight, shouting in his centre intensified threefold.

    "Albert," the man grumbled out. "Made it out did you?"

    "I survived and I''m stronger than ever," Bert answered. "This the tradition then? Beat the guts out of your old boss?"

    "If you can," Kind Ron spat. "But in my long experience, it''s more to show you who''s still in charge. And who''s stronger. And unless you done some serious Climbing you''re gonna come out of this hurt. Very hurt if I can help it."

    "Hah, you think you can? I ain''t a kid a ninth your weight anymore. You may be out of practice fighting someone your own size for once. And from where I stand you are looking... small."

    He said the words casually, in an annoying manner Fritz might have affected, and the man''s smile fell away, revealing the brute below. Kind Ron loomed over him, almost a foot taller than Bert himself and definitely broader, thick like a tavern''s door.

    "I''m going to break every bone in your body, right in front of your ''friend''," Kind Ron promised. "You think he''ll shed some tears for you?"

    "He would, but he won''t have to," Bert said simply.

    He relished the idea of crushing this man, smashing him to pieces for all the torment he''d put him and his crew through over the years. For all those punishments; black eyes for ''not meeting quota; bruises for ''talkin'' smart''; broken bones for ''fightin'' back'' and a dozen other cruelties.

    Bert was never one for revenge, he found that it was a lot of effort for little satisfaction. But in this case, he would be happy to mete out some punishment of his own. No, he would mete out a lot of punishment and leave this man a broken thing.

    He grinned and he knew it looked mad, but he couldn''t help it, he needed to hurt this man. It would help set things right. And if it didn''t, it would feel good all the same.

    Bert took a moment to feel the power coursing through his veins, the beating of his powerful heart and pulsing Vitality. It felt like someone was pushing on him, like he was a dam holding back the flood. Yet, he had no idea what to do with all the water.

    A bell rang, signalling the start of the fight. Kind Ron didn''t move, he stood there smiling crookedly, thinking Bert''s vicious grin some bluff.

    First thing first: wipe the smile off that ugly face.

    Bert pulled his arm back, then threw himself forward with all the coiled strength in his limbs. He swung his fist in a hook and it connected solidly with Kind Ron''s jaw.

    With a meaty thwack, the thug stumbled sideways and almost fell straight into the dirt. He caught himself, stopping his collapse by stiffening and setting himself in a solid stance. With a hateful glare, he struck out with an uppercut that Bert narrowly avoided.

    Ron spat blood.

    Although Bert''s hand ached like he had punched a stone, he grinned.

    Bert pulled himself inward, raising his arms to shield his body, crouching ever so slightly and beginning to sway slightly. In response, Ron lifted his own fists and stepped forward, throwing punch after punch in a steady, unshakeable rhythm.

    Bert dodged and weaved, each of the blows sailing past his shoulders or over his head. He repaid the thug''s attacks with counters of his own, landing punches to the ribs and gut that would cause a normal man to stagger or tumble. It only caused Ron to wince and redouble his efforts.

    The thug''s swings grew wider, air wooshed past Bert''s ears as he nimbly avoided another punch. Though the strikes were clumsy they weren''t at all slow, and it was getting harder to move through the barrage of powerful blows. Another wild punch went wide and Bert went for another counter, slamming a fist into the man''s ribs, again, and feeling the pain of striking something akin to a statue. The man''s flesh was at least as tough as Rosie''s, and without any of the scales or smoothness.

    Bert decided to risk another attack, sweeping out a kick straight into the thug''s knee. Unfortunately, this seemed to be what the thug was waiting for. As Bert reeled from the aching impact, Ron seized his leg and pinned it to his side. Caught, Bert suffered the man''s next punch full on his face.

    Something broke, his cheekbone shattered. But it reset and reformed almost instantly, his Inscribed Bones drawing on the pounding power that dwelt within his heart. Another hammer blow sent Bert to the ground, this one only dislocating his jaw before it snapped back into its proper pace. He lay there for a moment, letting his brain recover from its rattling. He suffered a kick to the back as he lay there, it shook his body, but thankfully didn''t break any further bones.

    Ron raised his arms in triumph, to the roar of the crowd, stealing the cheers that should have been Bert''s.

    Anger, deep and hot. A storm, roused from slumber began to scream. His ears rumbled with the thunder and he could no longer hear the crowd or the cheers.

    Bert stood, then he charged. He let the Arte Pugilist guide his movements, but also added in his own brutal bent as he rained punches on the surprised thug.

    The thug struck back, rocking Bert backward. In his rage, Bert continued his assault, only putting up the most marginal of defences and instead dedicating all his focus to beating the thug into a paste.

    They traded blows, Bert receiving the worse of it. His skin wasn''t as tough, he had no Durability to rely on. And just now he noticed that glittering between the thug''s fingers, wedged securely in leather-wrapped hands, were shards of jagged glass. Once clear, now ruby, edges gleamed as they sliced bleeding lines into flesh.

    Bert roared with laughter, embraced the beating storm in his heart and leapt forward again and again. He pushed the pounding power into his aching limbs, felt his muscles swell with strength and became a surge of striking fists.

    Blood, Bert''s blood, splattered the dirt, ran down his countless cuts, spilling everywhere. But it wasn''t he who looked afraid, it wasn''t him who now stepped back after each blow. No, it was Ron who gasped for breath, who staggered back. Each strike they exchanged drained the thug, hurt the thug, and finally, with one brutally compact blow, broke the thug.

    First, it was the man''s ribs that snapped, then it was his arm, then his nose and jaw. Ron fell, Bert didn''t stop. His knuckles were on fire, his fingers throbbed. Every punch shattered something in his hand, but also ruined Ron wherever he struck.

    Bert laughed again, the pain fading, the thunder retreating. The roar of the crowd was back, they''d gone as mad as he had. Eventually, something stopped him from thrashing the groaning thug.

    Bert looked down at the crumpled, cowering man. He was... weak. This tyrant had been his and Fritz''s bane for years and now he was grovelling in the dirt, splattered in blood, covered with rising bruises, his skin studded with the protruding bumps of broken bones.

    Bert spat on him, raised his blood-soaked arms to the crowd. And they cheered. Elation sang in his chest, a rising, ringing tone that felt like the sunrise. He revelled in the feeling, both the song and the crowd''s calls.

    He yelled out his victory. Proclaimed his dominance. And they loved him for it.

    It had been a good fight.

    One of the best.

    ---

    The fight had been a gruesome affair. Although Fritz never countenanced the idea that Bert might lose, he was worried for but a moment when he first fell from one of Kind Ron''s punches. He''d been caught off guard by the thug''s greater experience brawling and suffered for it.

    Kind Ron''s dominance only lasted for mere moments, Bert was on the man with those blisteringly fast punches and brutalising blows the Art Pugilist had taught him. When the two had begun to trade punch for punch kick for kick, Fritz knew the fight was over. Or would be, eventually. Bert could outlast anyone. The cuts and blood, while terrible to look at, didn''t slow his brother''s onslaught for a moment.

    "Hah," Nic chuckled, grasping Fritz''s shoulder and shaking him roughly. "That boy''s a born brawler, true as the rain!"

    Fritz watched on, his grim enjoyment of the beating his former boss was receiving started to sour his gut by the end, but he didn''t take his eyes away from the blood and broken bones. No, he had to witness this, if not for himself then for Bert.

    He found himself standing applauding and calling out the name the arena had bestowed his brother.

    "Bloody Bert! Bloody Bert! Bloody Bert!"

    Soon the ringmaster appeared, pulling Bert away while two other men carried the mess that was Kind Ron away. Fritz hoped the healing went wrong.

    "Come on, let''s get our winnings," Nic said, rubbing his calloused hands together.

    Fritz finished his mug of beer and followed the man to the bookie.

    Fritz had bet one gold triad on Bert''s victory, the maximum for a first bout, and received ten in return. It was the easiest gold he made in his life. He could get used to it, though the odds would likely never be this high again now that they''d seen ''Bloody Bert'' fight.

    His brother didn''t fight again that night, he said he was ''feelin'' a little woozy'', even after some more healing. They had cleaned him a little, but he was still scored all over and covered in blood, they let him keep the pants and Fritz carried his clean clothes for him.

    After roughly congratulating Bert on the great fight, Nic let him go, waving them both away and grinning as he hefted a bulging sack of coin.

    Then they were out into the heavy rain. It washed away all the blood covering Bert''s upper body, the red streams flowed into the gutters, as all things did. Fritz got an arm under his brother and listened to him complain about how Kind Ron had cheated.

    "Had spikes of glass hidden in his wraps," he grumbled. "Bastard."

    "What a prick," Fritz agreed.

    "Still, I got him back alright," Bert said proudly.

    "You did. A mighty fine job," Fritz agreed, dragging Bert along. "And I won some gold betting on it."

    "How much?" Bert asked. "Where''s my cut, I did all the work."

    "Ten triads," Fritz said, handing the man his half without complaining.

    "Good odds," Bert said. "Wonder why they were so high?"

    "Apparently the bastard was around level twelve, was a skilled brawler, and had a bunch of Durability and Strength increasing Traits and Passives," Fritz espoused, having found this out by listening to the crowd. "Against a comparative nobody, whose level was high but with unknown Powers they set the odds against you. Nic also probably had something to do with it."

    Bert nodded and they trudged through the rain, heading back home.

    "Do you like your new name?" Fritz asked.

    "Bloody Bert?" He grinned. "I love it."

    Fritz smiled back.

    "We''ll have to get you one soon. Wonder what they''ll call you," Bert mused. "Flighty Fritz?"

    "Fritz Fearsome," he rebutted.

    Bert laughed at that. "No chance!"

    There was a flash of light in the sky and a rumbling of thunder.

    Fritz felt a disturbance in the strong wind and stopped in his tracks.

    "What''s wrong?" Bert asked.

    Fritz pulsed his Awareness and after a moment of searching, feeling no danger or ill-intent, he continued walking.

    "Nothing," Fritz said. "Just the wind."

    They were through the gates, then on the road home when the rain took a turn for the worse, cold drops the size of grapes pelting down in their heads.

    Fritz shivered and set himself to walking faster.

    They arrived home, Fritz opened the front door and they stepped into the hall. They dried themselves as best they could, and strode into the lounge where they joined a waiting, worried team.

    "How did it go?" George asked stoically, his eyes glued to Bert''s pale features and bleary smile. Obviously, the man was trying not to stare at the bruised bare chest and bloody cuts.

    "As well as could be expected," Fritz said and he and Bert trudged to the gently burning fireplace. They warmed themselves and Fritz gave a small account of their doings, careful to mind his tongue lest the cursed mark activate.

    The team had questions, and Fritz did his best to answer, but soon he and Bert retired to their rooms, stating that the day had been rough and the night even more so.

    Fritz lay on his mattress, his sheets still crumpled from the night before. The window rattled, as the rain battered it. Flashes of lightning briefly lit the room and thunder shook his bed. He sighed heavily, grappling with his survival and what his servitude to The Nightshark might mean. If it was anything like the fighting rings he might be in some trouble, the deadly kind. But what else could he truly expect?

    He was almost fading into sleep when he heard something. A tapping on glass and a voice. He had initially thought it merely the rain and wind, or a pleasant dream. But when he turned to look there was a figure, hooded and cloaked, standing outside his bedroom window.

    His heart skipped a beat.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 13

    Fritz sat up and stared at the hooded figure behind the rattling glass. He met Sid''s bright blue eyes and smoothly slid from his bed, then crept to the window. Lighting flashed, and thunder rumbled overhead. He unlatched the window and opened it an inch, the wind outside howled and he spoke into the night. His words were lost, blown away.

    Fritz signalled his intent.

    "Window is warded. Meet you downstairs. Backdoor."

    Sid nodded once and leapt from the roof.

    Fritz quickly set off, quietly making his way from his room, down the stairs and to the backdoor. He opened it and she slid into the hall, brushing by him. She stood there soaked to the bone, her dripping cloak hanging off her like a wet sheet. He wanted to embrace her, but he held himself back. Something in her eyes warned him that she didn''t want to be touched. He could understand that much.

    Sid set her bow and quiver aside, then removed her cloak and began to wring it of water, the trickling stream splashed onto the stone and down the hall''s drain. She was wearing a brown coat, and under that a ragged shirt and battered, torn trousers held up by a belt of white scales. Fritz handed her a towel and she dried her hair, staining the white cloth with streaks of grime. She looked wretched and smelled worse.

    Fritz wrinkled his nose. "You stink of old blood."

    "Not something you should say to a Lady," Sid said gruffly.

    "Thought you weren''t a Lady," Fritz replied.

    Sid shrugged.

    "What do you want?" Fritz asked. "Did the Nightshark forget something?"

    "No," Sid hedged. "It''s nothing so urgent."

    "If it''s not urgent, go clean yourself up," Fritz said. "We have a bath. I can have it made ready for you."

    "Is that really important now?" Sid asked wearily.

    "I insist," Fritz said. "We have soap, which you need, and I''ll get you some remedies and grease for your face too."

    Sid hesitated, though when she met his unwavering gaze, she nodded. "I''ll use the showers outside if it''s all the same to you."

    "There''s a storm," Fritz argued.

    Sid shrugged and Fritz could see a haze between them, a wall of stubborn will she had rebuilt around herself, stone by stone.

    "Wait here, I''ll be back," Fritz said with resignation.

    She shivered, then agreed. Fritz gathered what he promised from his room and when he returned he handed off the bundle. She left.

    He waited for her in the hall, tapping a foot and trying to stop himself from pacing. So many passions stirred within himself, fleeting feelings and deep longing alike. It was hard to keep his head straight and mind on task. He wondered why she was here. Was it to ask for help? Was it to blame him for the cut she had taken in his place? Was it to profess her love?

    That last one was a fanciful notion. But Fritz couldn''t help but think of what he''d do, what they''d do, if that was the reason.

    There was a rapping at the door and Fritz was forced out of his wild thoughts.

    He let Sid in and she handed back his umbrella and what she didn''t use of the bundle. There was something added to the assortment of small objects. A small, worn, leather-bound journal that Fritz immediately recognised as ''The Observations.'' He was relieved to get the Technique back, and was about to thank her for returning it when he was distracted by the clean scent of soap that clung to her.

    He stared as Sid dried her hair, roughly rubbing at the wet brown until it brightened into blond. It was longer now, almost hanging past her delicate jaw. Fritz supposed it must have been the mana-dense meat they had eaten together in the Sunken Spire that had caused it to grow so quickly. She let her fringe fall over her thrice sliced cheek, hiding it from view.

    Sid had changed into the spare clothes he had given her, they didn''t fit her very well. The blue cloth of the shirt, patterned with pale scales, billowed slightly around her waist and arms, and the black trousers were slightly too tight to be proper. But the new attire was a definite improvement to the rags she had been wearing before.

    The more he looked, the more he saw that she hadn''t been taking care of herself. Sid had a bruise on her collarbone that seemed to spread up her shoulder and her hands had collected some small cuts and grazes. The dark circles around her eyes were deeper. She had been fighting the gutters this whole time and was still standing tall. It worried Fritz, yet he he respected her steel and found her beautiful all the same.

    She signed to him.

    "Talk here? Safe?"

    Fritz shook his head, both in negation and to clear it, and motioned for her to follow him up the stairs. She did, and soon they were in his room.

    He pulsed Awareness and searched the dark corners. Then he listened. There was nothing but the storm outside. He lit the lantern on his bedside table to give them some light to see by. Not that they needed it with their Awards, but the low flame did lend a warmth to the room, easing his nerve.

    "We should be okay," Fritz said, sitting on his bed. "Can''t sense anything awry."

    Sid nodded, standing in the centre of the room.

    "This is nice," she said and it sounded like an accusation. "Warm and dry."

    Fritz shrugged, imitating her dismissive gesture.

    Her stomach rumbled, but it was quickly overshadowed by the rolling thunder. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, picked out one of the fruits he had stashed in it and held it out. It was an old habit to hide food and one he wasn''t likely to break.

    "What''s this?"

    "Blood lime," Fritz said. "Found it in the Mer Spire. Eat it, it''s mana dense and you''re starving."

    Sid looked like she wanted to argue, but her eyes were as ravenous as she was. She sat at the end of his bed, took the fruit from his hand and bit into it.

    "Mmm," she groaned.

    The sound sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

    "Watch out for the seed," he warned as she tore into it.

    She nodded and he sat in silence as she ate voraciously.

    "It''s tingly," Sid said frowning. "It''s not a poison is it?" She added suspiciously.

    The words hurt Fritz, but he let them go. Who wouldn''t be wary of such a thing? Apart from Bert.

    "No, just some strange property," Fritz said. "Even if it were a poison, you would be protected. Your bones are the same as mine."

    She nodded, relaxing her stiff shoulders.

    "Got another?" She asked when she had finished the first.

    Fritz smiled and handed her another two.

    She ate them gratefully.

    When she finished her third blood lime, Fritz spoke.

    "I''m sorry."

    "For what?" Sid asked. "For giving me new clothes and feeding me delicious fruits?"

    He motioned at the three cuts down the left side of her face.

    "That. One of those belongs to me," Fritz stated.

    Sid smiled grimly.

    "It''s fine. It''s just a scratch," Sid said. "Makes me look more fearsome, and it could hardly make me any uglier."

    "You were never ugly," Fritz said.

    Her pupils went wide, her back stiffened and she stood, stepping away and taking a place by the doorway. He watched her settle herself, leaning her back on the wall, she wiped sticky juice from her hands with a pocket rag.

    "That''s not why I''m here," Sid said.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    "Why are you here then?" Fritz asked, concealing his disappointment.

    "I came to ask for your help. You offered it before and I need it now," Sid stated.

    "What do you need?" Fritz asked.

    "I''m to climb the Mer Spire in the coming week," Sid explained. "''She'' says so. She has bought a spot in a Guides Guild Climb for me."

    "I see," Fritz said. "What do you want me to do? Come with you? Watch your back?"

    "No, not me. I''ll be fine," Sid said. "It''s.. it''s the people in my territory I''m worried for. I promised I''d protect them. And now I''m being sent into a Spire. I won''t be back for something like two weeks. Without me there they''ll be taken, or killed, or-"

    "They''ll be preyed upon," Fritz said, acknowledging the ugly truth.

    "Yes," Sid said.

    "And you want me-"

    "And Bert-" Sid interrupted.

    "And Bert," Fritz allowed. "You want us to hold your territory for you?"

    "Yes, keep them safe," Sid stated.

    "Why didn''t you ask ''Her'' to help?" Fritz asked.

    "This is a punishment," she said, scowling. "She didn''t like finding out I lied to her. I think this is her way of telling me there are consequences worse than a couple of cuts. As if I didn''t already know that, keenly."

    Fritz nodded. It made a certain sick sense to show her that everything could be taken away on one of the Nightshark''s whims. Giving with one hand and taking with the other.

    "Protect them, please, Fritz," Sid asked.

    Fritz hesitated, he considered how much of his finite time to train and learn would be impacted by Sid''s request. How much potential power was he giving up for a promise he made deep in a Spire? His Dusksong roiled at the thought of abandoning his oath and spat at him while the world greyed around him. He found himself agreeing with the strange faerie magic and set to do what was right.

    "You call, I answer," Fritz said solemnly, regal notes playing about his tone. Dusksong hummed along righteously.

    Sid looked like she was going to cry, but she coughed instead, and croaked out, "Thank you."

    They sat and stood in silence for some awkward seconds. The window rattled from the wind and a flash of lightning lit their faces brightly for a moment.

    "I should get going. I''ve already been too long away from my territory," Sid said gruffly.

    "Before you go. I have gifts," Fritz said, standing up and striding to his closet.

    "Gifts?" Sid asked sceptically, shuffling her shoulders.

    "Yes, hold a moment," Fritz said, finding the Treasure quiver he had stored in his pack. Really it should have been down in the vault, but he had been waiting for a moment just like this.

    He handed her the empty, dark leather quiver.

    "It''s nice, but I already got one of those," Sid said, glancing over the Treasure, then holding it out so he could take it back.

    "Activate it," Fritz said.

    Sid hesitated, then stared in surprise as a bow slipped out of the leather as if it were sliding out of mud. She caught it before it fell and looked at the bow with wonder.

    While Sid was temporarily mute, Fritz explained, "The quiver can store a bow and up to three arrows within. And the bow itself can be Activated to make it as hard as Adamant."

    Sid''s mouth moved, but she couldn''t speak for some moments.

    "Fritz, I can''t take these. I can''t repay this." She tried to hand the Treasures back, but Fritz stepped away holding his hands up in refusal.

    "I insist. They''ll be useful on your Climb," he said. "And if it makes you feel any better these weren''t rewards from a chest or anything so clean. A Krakosi Raider hunted me down in the Mer Spire and these belonged to him. In fact, you could be doing me a favour in taking them. His team wouldn''t be too pleased to catch me lauding them around."

    "A Krakosi Raider?" She scoffed, smiling as if he were telling a joke. "Am I supposed to believe that? Really?"

    "Yes," Fritz said, setting his features seriously. "He almost killed me. Almost killed us all."

    Her face fell and she looked to the Treasures again, more thoughtfully.

    "So it''s a danger to carry this around?" She asked, hefting the quiver by its strap.

    "Only in the Upper Ring. I think," Fritz hedged.

    Sid''s face was conflicted, but eventually, she took the Treasures, storing the bow away with an Activation.

    "Thanks," she said softly, slinging the quiver over her shoulder. "I''ll find you something good in return."

    "It''s a gift, there''s no need for that," Fritz said.

    "I insist," Sid replied a sly smile sliding onto her face. She winced as the expression pulled on three angry cuts down her cheek.

    Fritz smiled in sympathy.

    Again they stood in silence, each waiting for the other to speak.

    "Oh, I almost forgot, there''s one more gift," Fritz said, crossing into the closet again and lifting a wrapped package.

    "Fritz, stop. It''s already too much," Sid protested.

    "Last one, I promise," Fritz said handing her the bundle.

    "Fine," Sid said with some resignation, taking the gift from his arms. She pulled away the cloth and gasped. The sound was mostly lost in thunder.

    "You remembered such a stupid thing," she whispered, the walls of will around her shaking, stones tumbling. A torrent of dammed emotion poured from her shaking form.

    Sid glared up at Fritz, her gaze wet at the edges. Though she frowned as deep as he''d ever seen, she sniffed and a tear spilled from her eye. That tear reflected the glittering sheen of the moonsilver breastplate in her arms. She pulled the gift close, pressing it to her chest.

    "You can''t do this to me," she growled, wiping at her eye with a shirt sleeve.

    "Do what?" Fritz asked, genuinely puzzled at her reaction and sudden fury.

    Sid dropped the breastplate on the carpeted floor and stomped straight up to him. She looked like she wanted to strike him and raised a fist to do so. Danger Sense remained silent, so Fritz stood still.

    "You can''t make me love you," Sid declared.

    She swung, but her fist slowed and softly slammed on his chest. Fritz barely felt the impact.

    "You can''t make me weak. You idiot. You arsehole. You bastard," she said, lowering her gaze and beating out her argument on his breast. Three soft thuds, each in time with her heart.

    "I can''t be a bastard, my noble parents were wed," Fritz said, unsure what he was meant to say to such an outburst of raw emotion. "However, I concede to your other points."

    Sid choked out a laugh. She stared up at him, eyes wide and weeping. In that moment, Fritz noted he was taller than her by a couple of inches. Then he forgot what he was thinking when she seized him by the collar and pulled his face to hers, roughly pressing their lips together. Her mouth still tasted of blood limes and tingled from the touch.

    Fritz''s heart raced, he wrapped his arms around her. She was warm. Another flash of lightning lit the room, a boom louder than any previous shook the floor. Sid pushed Fritz away, hard, causing him to stagger and fall. He caught himself on his bed and got to his feet as she turned away.

    "What are you doing?" He burst out, annoyed at the rough treatment and the breaking of their too-short embrace.

    Fritz strode forward and gripped her shoulder. His Danger Sense flared, a sudden ache in his shoulder told him he was likely to be thrown. He foiled her attempt to grasp his arm, spin then toss him to the floor. Sid tried again. This time Fritz was ready and stopped her before she could even start to turn. They struggled.

    The flurry of movements and maneuvers left them face to face, both scowling, both forgetting what they were even fighting over. They pulled and pushed, grunted and grasped. For a moment they stopped and stared into each other''s eyes, panting slightly. Lightning, bright white, illuminated them. They rejoined their battle.

    The wrestling took on a more passionate bent, their hands stopped reaching for wrists and arms and instead sought to tear away clothes. Sid pulled Fritz''s head down to hers, he held her close and they locked lips. Fingers gently slid over bared skin, shirts slipped to the floor. Belts and trousers followed. They tumbled, stumbling, falling into bed.

    Thunder rumbled and the rain pounded, drowning out their voices.

    ---

    Fritz awoke. It was an odd way to wake. There was a warm spot beside him, but it now lay empty. It was still dark and the rain still heavy, dawn had to be a couple of hours away.

    There was a soft shuffling and heated whispering, which is what had roused him. He peered a half lidded eye at the pale back of Sid. He could count the bumpy ridges of her spine and almost see the outline of her ribs as she buttoned her trousers and fastened her snake-scale belt.

    "You idiot," Sid hissed to herself. "Idiot, idiot, idiot."

    Fritz didn''t move, watching her as she slipped one scar-marked arm after another into her shirt''s sleeves.

    Sid crept to the door slowly. Wincing, she stopped and let out a long breath. She began to move again, nearly tripping on something by her feet. Sid stared at the quiver on the ground. With a sigh and a muttered curse, she bent down and took it. She was about to leave, again, when her eyes fell upon the moonsilver breastplate sitting just by the door.

    She lay her hand on the metal relief, running her fingers over the gleaming image of a stormhawk with wings spread wide worked into the front.

    Sid smiled and it was lovely.

    "Keep him safe," she whispered, pulling away her hand and leaving the gift behind.

    Sid glanced back for only a heartbeat, looking to where Fritz lay, her bright blue eyes full of something indescribable. It could have been longing, it could have been pain, but it couldn''t keep her standing there. She turned and slipped through the door. It closed with a small, desolate click.

    Fritz was left alone in the dark. He could have revealed that he was awake, could have questioned her, asked her why she had to leave. But he knew why. They''d had that conversation before. They both had paths to tread, and for now those roads were set apart. He had expected her inevitable flight to hurt, but it didn''t. If anything he felt glad. Glad that he knew more of her and her feelings than before, and knew that this was not some one-sided fascination.

    The realisation elated him, though it wasn''t all joy. There was bitterness, there was fear, there was regret, but that was the world. He embraced the giddy lightness, the great relief and the satisfaction of certainty their meeting had afforded him.

    Fritz yawned. The day had been exhausting, not just the recent night. He turned, forcing himself not to follow Sid out into the dwindling storm. Though, in the comfort of his mattress, it wasn''t too difficult.

    Soon he slept.

    ---

    When Fritz strode into the dining room, he felt like he was walking on clouds. Sure, there was that pang of sadness, that minute ring of melancholy he attributed to the way Sid had left him behind last night. But it was suffocated by his delight. The passion and gentle affections they had shared eclipsed any other emotion easily. Nearly humming, he decided to embrace the warmth rather than the cold. Just for now.

    Those of the team gathered at the table looked up at him, smiling in greeting, then frowning as they took in his expression.

    "You look smugger than usual," Bert claimed. "What happened?"

    "I''m sure I don''t know what you mean," Fritz lied, beaming as he helped himself to some bread and butter. "I just endured a terrible ordeal, at the hands of... a notorious crime lord, and I''m glad it''s over."

    "That must be it," Rosie said. "I''m glad you survived too. It would have been bad if you died."

    Bert stared at him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as Fritz jauntily buttered some bread.

    "I don''t believe you," Bert said.

    "What?" Fritz demanded in mock indigence. "Are you calling me a liar?"

    "I am! A thrice cursed one," Bert accused.

    "Bert''s right," George said. "There''s something different about that smile."

    Fritz smirked, hoping it looked mysterious rather than just annoying.

    "Does it matter?" Lauren interrupted. "Can you tell us more of your meeting? You were rather vague in your answers last night."

    "Some of it, not all," Fritz said. Then he went into an explanation of his new duties, limitations and time restraints. Bert slunk away, leaving him to answer any questions they still had on his own.

    "Not allowed to Climb?" Cal asked. "For how long?"

    Fritz shrugged. "Until they think I''m ready."

    Lauren nodded.

    "Is this likely to affect our training?" George asked.

    "No, I still have yet to find a tutor anyway," Fritz said. "I have one last name to try. Though finding them is going to be an exercise in frustration."

    "Why?" Lauren asked.

    "Apparently, they have no home of their own and travel between the inns and taverns in the Upper Ring," Fritz said.

    "That must be expensive," Lauren said, seemingly calculating the costs of such a life.

    Again, Fritz shrugged while he thoroughly enjoyed his breakfast.

    "What''s their name?" Cal asked. "We can all look."

    Fritz swallowed down the wonderful bread and was about to speak when Bert burst into the dining room.

    "Fritz! You horned hound!" Bert cried, slapping Fritz on the back and almost causing him to choke.

    Fritz glared up at the man''s wide grin.

    "What?" Fritz said.

    "Guess what I found when I searched your room?" Bert asked smugly.

    "You searched my room?'' Fritz asked indignantly.

    Bert ignored him.

    "What did you find?" George asked, leaning forward conspiratorially as many of the team did.

    "It''s actually a matter of what I didn''t find," Bert stated. "The Raider''s quiver was gone. Which means, Fritz here, gave it away."

    "Gave it away? To whom?" Lauren asked.

    "To an Archer," Bert theorised. "And we only know one Archer. Don''t we, Fritz."

    Fritz grimaced, he was still eating breakfast and already his nightly rendezvous was being brought to light.

    "This is hardly a conversation for the dinner table," Fritz said trying to forestall his friend.

    "Was it that mysterious Sid?" Lauren asked.

    "It had to be," Bert said smugly. "I bet he gave her the Deep Quiver. And then he gave her the Treasure."

    The whole team chuckled, choked or laughed at the vulgarity.

    Fritz''s face threatened to blush, but with an application of Focus and Control he was able to smooth his features into a pointed smile.

    "Must you?" Fritz asked blandly.

    "I must," Bert said.

    "Good for you, Fritz," Rosie said, punching him on the arm.

    "I can''t say I''m happy you gave away the quiver," Lauren said. "No matter who you gave it to." She added with a teasing smile. "Though I''m sure you had your reasons. And it wasn''t as if any of us could use it well."

    "Yeah," Cal agreed. "But we could have traded it for something else."

    "We still have plenty of other Treasures, Techniques and even Seeds to sell and trade," Fritz pointed out. "There''s no great loss."

    "Fair enough," Cal said, dropping most of his disgruntlement.

    There was a moment of awkward quiet while they ate, which George broke with a cough and a question.

    "So, when do we start our search for the tutor?"

    "Tonight."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 14

    Before Fritz and his team began their search for the itinerant tutor, they drew their plans for the day. It was to be Lauren and Cal''s first foray into the Thoroughfare Market with the express intent of selling their monster materials and most importantly their sirensilk.

    Fritz wished them well and set about the tasks he had put upon himself for the day. Bert declined to join him this time as some of those tasks led to the King''s Archive.

    "And here I thought that you would be more adventurous," Bert bemoaned as he stood by the lounge''s fire. "But no, it''s still books books books with you."

    "I''m plenty adventurous, but running from one deadly peril to another has been fraying my nerve. Some quiet study would serve me well. It gives me a chance to unwind," Fritz espoused while lazing in an armchair. "And I''ve never been all books books books and you know it."

    Bert grinned. "Suit yourself, I''m visiting the duelling arena with Rosie and George and Dale. We''re gonna watch some fancy fights. Aren''t we, little one?"

    Dale whistled and it sounded happy.

    "Wonderful," Fritz said blandly. "I hope you all have fun."

    "We will, " Rosie said.

    "I hope Leon has a duel today," George mused. "I''d like to watch him in action."

    "Is he a duellist?" Rosie asked.

    "When the mood takes him," George said.

    "Let''s go. We''ll leave the Lord to his studies," Bert said, leading his small group away.

    Fritz sighed, enjoyed a pot of tea, and sat by the fire for another half an hour before becoming restless. Soon after that, he stood, then set out for the King''s Archive where he spent much of the day.

    The party of noble women wasn''t there that day, so he was far less distracted as he copied out the contents of the manuals and diets that had caught his interest.

    The third assistant archivist, Lady Greysail, frowned when she saw him doing so. Perhaps it was because he was writing his notes himself rather than employing a scribe to do so. He waved to her which she also took offence to. It was to be expected, such a wave was quite rude in high society and Fritz had forgotten his manners in his preoccupation with his task. He''d have to apologise to her in time, making an enemy of one of the archivists was likely to bring some banal, bureaucratic troubles of the kind he had little patience for.

    Eventually, it was nearing dusk, so a dry-eyed Fritz stacked his notes and copied pages, then rolled them up. He slid them into a scroll case he had bought earlier, along with the paper, quill and inks. The rest of his writing kit was put away in a satchel he had procured when preparing for his trip to the Archive. It was the grey of manatee leather and he had been assured that not a drop of water would disturb the materials within.

    He made to leave and stopped to give a low bow to the third archivist when he passed her. She sniffed and looked away, snubbing him. Fritz stifled a scowl and a spark of annoyance, he didn''t really care about her approval, or the approval of any other noble, but her gesture still stung. It seemed his life had left him too rough for the nobility and too soft for the thugs, always between worlds.

    Fritz left the Archive and then the Palace Ring, reconvening with his team at the Crimson Carp where they had agreed to meet earlier. From there, they began to search in two groups of three, Lauren leading one while Fritz led the other. They set out, heading in and out of taverns, asking the patrons or barkeeps if they had seen the man recently. Some said they hadn''t seen him recently, and that was only when silver traded hands, but most said nothing at all and would take no triads for further leads.

    It was in this manner they searched. After an hour they left the Circle of Revelry entirely and started striding down the darker, less-populous streets. Three hours later, they eventually gave up and returned home, grumbling, grousing and cursing the tutors name.

    Fritz slept poorly, he expected a visit from one of the Nightshark''s minions and was on alert for their appearance, however, no such person appeared. He also had hoped that perhaps Sid would visit him, rapping on his window and seeking warm company. Alas, this also did not come to pass. While he turned fitfully in his bed, he considered slipping out of the house and searching for her. He discarded the desire, he knew better than to hunt her down, especially considering how she had left without a word.

    The next day started, stretched and ended much as the previous one did. Fritz attended the Archives; Cal and Lauren sold more of their wares; and Bert, Rosie and George trained in the yard, referencing the notes Fritz had painstakingly written out for them.

    Again, they gathered at dusk and, again, their search was fruitless. Fritz took to bed rife with agitation and apprehension. He slept poorly, though it was more the nightmares than any other influence.

    Fritz awoke, and partook in another good, if not great, breakfast made by Cal. Once he was done and about to leave for the Archive there was rapping at the front door. He wondered who it could be. It was early, so he thought it wasn''t one of the Nightshark''s enforcers.

    When he answered the door he found himself opposite a pretty woman. She looked to be in her early thirties and in a common work dress. She had pale blonde hair, done up in a serviceable bun, and had warm, grey eyes. Behind her was another feminine figure, this one younger. She was similar in both attire and appearance. They were related, that much was clear.

    He blinked as the two curtsied, then he bowed belatedly.

    "This is the residence of Lord Hightide? We have been informed he was seeking some live-in help, is that correct?" The older of the two women asked politely.

    "Yes, you are quite correct," Fritz said, plastering on a kind smile. "Come right on in. You can wait in the dining room, and I''ll hold the interviews in the lounge. You first if you please Ms.?"

    "Mrs. Netter," the woman said.

    "Good, just this way," Fritz said leading the way and hiding the fact he had totally forgotten about the maids he had put a call out for.

    "You''re quite young to be head of the Lord''s staff," the older of the pair endeavoured as he escorted them through the hall. "Is he a man who values youth over experience?"

    "Hmm?" Fritz said.

    "I''ve just never heard of this Lord Hightide before. He seemingly sprung up from nowhere, or rather the ashes of his house, and as such there is little of his reputation to be known," she continued.

    Fritz immediately pegged the woman as a gossip, though he didn''t begrudge her for it, much.

    "Unfortunately, I am not one who can speak to the character of the illustrious Lord Hightide," Fritz said, smirking.

    "Oh, and why is that? Have you not met him?" The woman asked, intrigued.

    "Ah, it is because he is I," Fritz stated.

    "Oh!" Mrs. Netter squeaked. "Please accept my humblest apologies for speaking to you so casually, milord."

    She curtsied low, pulling on the sleeve and dragging down the other maid to do the same.

    "There''s no need for that, please sit," Fritz said kindly.

    They obeyed quickly as though he had cracked a whip.

    He was about to begin the interviews when Bert strolled into the dining room.

    "What''s this? Maids?" He asked.

    "Correct," Fritz replied.

    "Good, I''ll leave it to your discerning tastes then," Bert said, slapping Fritz on the shoulder and leaving for Gods knew where.

    The two women stared, seemingly startled by how little deference the man had for his Lord.

    "That was Albert Dale," Fritz explained. "My boon companion and part of my Climbing team. What he lacks in manners he makes up with muscle."

    "I could see that," Mrs. Netter commented under her breath.

    "Now, let''s get a move on. I do have important matters to attend to," Fritz said, though it was likely just to be another boring day at the Archives and a frustrating search after.

    The younger of the pair looked worriedly to the older. Mrs. Netter gently grasped her hand under the table.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    "About that, Lord," Mrs Netter said. "I was not looking for employment, I was merely here to accompany my daughter."

    Fritz looked to the girl, she paled and Mrs. Netter squeezed her hand.

    "Is that so?"

    The girl nodded and produced a piece of thickly-waterproofed paper. She handed it to him, bowing low.

    He took it and read the neat script. "Greetings, my name is Cassandra Netter. I am unable to speak. I am not feeble-minded nor deaf. However, I would be grateful if you constrained your questions to those that are simple to answer with an affirmative or negative. Thank you."

    "Hmm," Fritz mused as he handed the paper back. He had asked for someone who was ''not one for talk'', and although he hadn''t meant it so literally he wasn''t exactly displeased. In fact, it somewhat amused him and appealed to his sense of irony. That, and he could imagine Bert''s face when he found out.

    He pulled himself out of his thoughts to find the girl looking down dejectedly, obviously she had taken his pause as a bad sign for her prospects for employment.

    "You''re seeking a live-in maid position here?"

    Cassandra nodded quickly.

    "Age?" He asked.

    She flashed ten fingers, then seven.

    "Slower, Cass," her mother chided, before turning to Fritz. "Sorry, Lord. She''s so used to signing to me that her hands often run too swiftly."

    "Nonsense," Fritz said. "I''m a Scout. If I couldn''t count quick I''d be dead by now."

    Cassandra signed an apology that Fritz reflexively acknowledged with his own signal.

    She smiled.

    "If you say so, milord," Mrs Netter said.

    "I do," Fritz said, then he resumed his inquiries.

    The rest of the interview was of a more mundane bent, his questions were ones that aimed to judge good character or sift out spies. Fritz wasn''t overly concerned with the latter. But it bore remembering that, although he was a relatively minor noble, he was a noble all the same and would have hidden foes. What better way to keep eyes and ears on him than insinuating an informant in his house before it even rose to prominence?

    Or perhaps he was just being paranoid.

    Cassandra, thankfully, didn''t give any alarming answers and over fifteen minutes her quick and quiet manner charmed him. As far as he knew about hiring on help, which wasn''t all that much truth be told, she seemed a good fit for their needs.

    He soon concluded the interview and sent the two on their way with a, "Thank you for your interest. I''ll consider your request."

    When Fritz was in his room, packing his writing kit into its satchel, he heard a trio of clear professional knocks. Once he opened the front door and found another three women looking for work, he stifled a sigh.

    He had hoped the task of selecting a maid would be a swift one. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Fritz spent all the late morning and the majority of noon holding one interview after another, occasionally interrupted by the comings and going of his team and their unhelpful comments and observations.

    All the petitioners were pretty and their ages and experience varied, though none made quite the impression Cassandra had. There was also one charming, seductively witty woman he was sure was a spy, or someone who sold secrets at the very least. It aggrieved him not to hire her, but he couldn''t countenance having any informants in his household. No matter how delightful their manner was.

    When all was said and done, Fritz sent a runner boy with the message to hire on the young Ms. Netter. Then he left for the Archive to seek out some study before it was time to begin his search for the tutor again.

    Striding through the rain, he sighed. Fritz felt he was being slowed down, like he was dragging heavy weights. Every moment out here in the city was one that could have been spent in a Spire, Climbing ever higher. He tried to ignore it, he knew he had sprinted far ahead in power compared to his cohort. Two Spires in as many weeks was not a feat many could emulate. Not unless they were already strong. But still, he wished he was closer to Climbing the Rain Spire than he was.

    His hours in the Archive held some interest, the Noble Ladies were present this time and he was able to hear something of what they were studying. They turned out to be researching the geographies, Spires and histories of the world beyond Rain City. While Fritz copied out some more notes, he caught the improper whisper and a scandalised giggle when they wondered about the masculine anatomy of some of the more exotic Strains abounding Epsa.

    It took all of Fritz''s Focus and Control not to stare up at the balcony where they shushed each other and suppressed more impolite chatter. If he did look up their guard would likely light that mist lantern again, and he didn''t want that. Not when he could catch a glimpse of the silver-eyed beauty every now and then. He recriminated himself as he did so, of course. He held Sid close to his heart and his odd attraction to the merfolk woman made little sense to him. Though he also told himself there was little harm in looking. Wasn''t there?

    Eventually, a soft bell chimed, signalling the hour and Fritz had to leave to meet up with his team. He resigned himself to another wasted night.

    While we walked the pristine paths of the Palace District he asked himself, "Where are you Adam Needle?"

    ---

    "Adam Needle?" The barkeep asked as he filled a mug of beer for Bert. "Sure, I heard of him."

    "You have?" Fritz asked wearily, waiting for the man to ask for a bribe as all the others had before.

    "Yeah, he''s sittin'' just over there," the barkeep said, pointing to a corner. "Bit of an ornery arsehole if you ask me. But somehow there''s always someone lookin'' to bother him."

    "Perhaps I should take him a drink then," Fritz said, trying to let his eagerness show.

    "You should. But you''ll be risking wearing it," the barkeep said.

    "I''ll take that risk," Fritz said. "What does he like?"

    "Anything."

    "One bottle of whisky then," Bert said, placing some silver on the bar.

    Fritz, Bert and George approached the man sitting at the table, getting a good look at him as they did so. They had heard some tales of him, that he was a great duellist some decades ago, an excellent Climber and an even better tutor. They also said he was common born, possibly from one of the districts, though no particular one claimed him. He was noted to be strong, clever and driven, or at least he had been.

    Those were all just stories though and they now looked upon the man himself.

    He was huge, muscular beyond any man Fritz had ever seen. His neck was thick, his shoulders boulders and his arms were like tree trunks. He wore a loose green tunic with red trim that was so large it could have been a bed sheet. Even then he could see the slab of muscle that was his chest through the fabric.

    With one heavily calloused hand, the man raised a clay mug to his mouth. The froth stuck to the moustache of his short beard. He had a head of hair to match that beard, shortly, if poorly, trimmed, greying brown and wiry.

    "Adam Needle?" Fritz asked.

    "Yeah. Who''s asking?" The man grumbled staring up at Fritz. His voice was a rough bark, obviously he was used to yelling orders. When their gazes met, something like startled recognition, then bitter resentment flashed through his clear green eyes.

    "Piss off," The man spat, his already lightly wrinkled face creasing further in a scowl.

    "What?" Fritz asked. "I was just coming to offer you a glass of whisky. Or the whole bottle if you like."

    "And why would you do that?"

    "We''re looking for a tutor, and we heard you''re one of the best," Fritz flattered.

    In one smooth movement, the man reached for the rapier hanging from his belt, drew it and levelled the long, shining steel at him from across the table. Fritz had matched the motion before even a moment had passed, grasping Quicksilver''s grip and pulling his blade free. He held his own sword defensively, poised to parry should the man take a step towards him.

    Which he did.

    Adam slipped around the table between them and slid forward, his steps so graceful it looked like he was waltzing. The point of his gleaming blade came for Fritz''s heart like a silver arrow. Quicksilver rose to meet the thrust, but the man''s sword deftly danced around it. Fritz activated his barrier ring in panic. The nigh-invisible skin slowed the blade point for less than a second before dispersing with a hum.

    Cold steel poked through his shirt and pricked the skin beneath. Fritz stared into the eyes of his would-be murderer and found them both full of contempt and contemplation. The blade hovered near Fritz''s heart for a moment, then was swept away and back into its sheath with the soft whisper of metal on leather.

    Bert looked poised to throw himself at the man and George''s copperchange sword was in his hand, ready to strike. Fritz signed to stand down and they begrudgingly complied. The tavern was silent, but once it looked like no blood was to be spilled the patrons went back to their proclivities. Though many kept an eye on the table, just in case there was another fight.

    "You''re no good," the man said, turning his back on the three of them without worry and making his way back to his seat. "Your stance is shoddy, your reaction was too simple, and your footwork, quite frankly, disgusts me. I thought Tomas would have taught you better."

    It didn''t surprise him much that Adam had known his father, it had been another of the rumours that they''d been on the same Climbing team. It was said that they had been fast friends until a falling out before Fritz was born. He''d hoped the rumour had been false, as it would make this meeting all the more difficult to navigate. It was unfortunate then, that Fritz could see the deep ache of loss in the man''s eyes.

    "He would have. If he weren''t dead," Fritz ground out. His pulse was still racing and the topic of conversation wasn''t helping that any.

    "Right," the man agreed morosely. "Almost forgot that."

    "Almost forgot? Just how much of a drunk are you? Do you even know what year it is?" Fritz asked both angry and incredulous.

    "I try not to," Adam replied. "Still, your dad being dead is no reason not to listen to your sword instructors. Even if their Techniques aren''t as grand."

    "I also haven''t had the privilege of that luxury," Fritz said.

    "Why not? Did your lazy, slut of a mother not find it ''prudent''?" Adam asked scathingly. Again, there was that note of familiarity, nostalgia and bitter grudges.

    Fritz''s felt his face contort with rage and he lost himself in blinding red.

    Bert seized him before he could act, holding him tight with powerful arms. He struggled for some long seconds before he regained his faculties and pressed down on that insane, twisting fury. Eldritch flame roared beside his rage and for one mad moment, he was going to let it free and release that all-consuming fire, his own flesh be damned.

    Exerting all of his will, Fritz closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly, suppressing the hurt. When he was calm again, he ventured to stare at the bastard before him. He almost broke, again, as he took in the man''s smirk. But he''d faced The Nightshark, he''d faced the Raider, he''d faced the Hound. Fritz wouldn''t let this man taunt him further.

    "She was murdered, " Fritz said as stoically as he could. "Though I suppose a drunken, half-wit like you wouldn''t know that."

    Adam searched his face suspiciously. When he found only truth the man''s smirk fell away.

    "I''m sorry," he said, his face falling further. "I didn''t know. What happened?"

    Fritz''s blood still beat in his ears and he might have continued to insult the man if not for the steady hand of Bert and George on each of his shoulders.

    With a sigh, Fritz said, "I''ll tell you, if you agree to hear us out in turn."

    The man grimaced, but only for a second before he motioned for them to sit with him at his table.

    They joined him and Bert set the bottle and some glasses before them. They each drank a glass in silence as Fritz prepared to recount that dark, bloody night. He had to drink three glasses before he could even attempt to speak.

    His hands shook slightly, but he dug up the old, sharp memories and said, "It began with my Father''s disappearance."

    Adam nodded, he knew that part.

    He swallowed down another drink, the smoky, sour liquid loosening his tongue.

    "The Guides Guild came to take away any notes, books or journals he may have left behind. They claimed they were the property of the Guild, as they were made by or borrowed from one of their members. My mother protested, she stated that most were left for his heir, for me, and she would not part with them without a proper decree. From the King no less."

    Adam watched and waited. Fritz took another bitter sip.

    "They had no such decree. Or at least, my mother disputed its legality. They argued. I was hiding in a closet nearby. How I came to be there I can''t recall. It was probably some stupid game. Through the crack in the door I couldn''t catch all that was said, nor could I see much of what happened. Eventually, the clearer, restrained tones gave way to anger. The loud, overbearing order to seize everything and my mother''s shouts of outrage rang through the room and then the halls."

    Again Fritz stopped. His breath was coming too quickly. So he purposefully slowed his speech.

    "The Guide enforcer reached for my mother and she repelled him. Air lashed the man, cutting his cheek and staggering him. His reply was brutal, and his bludgeon sent her to the floor. The House guard acted then, in defence of my mother, and the room descended into a melee. My mother lay there, blood leaked from her head, it stained the wood. Her eyes fluttered and she met my eye."

    Adam frowned. His expression had been getting steadily darker as Fritz told his story.

    "Go on," he prodded.

    "She went mad. The whole room was wracked with screaming wind, knocking down men and ripping objects from their proper places and flinging them in a swirling storm. There was an oil lantern. It spilt its burning contents, fire and smoke only adding to the mayhem. The air pulled the door closed, and it locked. I tried to get out. I beat on the wood. Blood crept under the door. My feet were soaked. My hands were soaked. I was soaked. I screamed to be let out, but no one came."

    Fritz stopped, he could smell the blood and oily smoke again. The room was spinning. He was weeping and trembling. He set his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands, berating himself for his breaking.

    They sat in silence while he tried to get a hold of himself. It only took three minutes.

    "I''m sorry," Fritz said. "That memory got the better of me."

    "They can do that," The man said sympathetically, staring into his empty glass. "That was a harrowing tale. For all of your mother''s many faults, she didn''t deserve that. You didn''t deserve that."

    "Of course, we didn''t," Fritz nearly spat. "Anyway, are you satisfied?"

    "No, I''m far past that. I owe you a debt," Adam said, though he didn''t elaborate. "You said you wanted a tutor?"

    "Correct," Fritz said.

    "I''ll do it. If you''re good enough."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 15

    After sorting out some details and drinking down a few mugs, Fritz and his search party left the tavern and rejoined their team. When they found the other three they quickly explained their deal with Adam Needle, who was to be, ostensibly, their new tutor. If they proved ''good enough.''

    They were striding home through the rain, when Cal asked, "What''s wrong with Fritz then? You found the tutor and he agreed to teach. Why does he look so...sad?"

    Fritz scowled further, but didn''t answer. Neither did Bert strangely enough.

    "The tutor knew his parents," George provided. "And Fritz told the awful tale of his mother''s unjust murder."

    "Oh," Cal said. "Sorry."

    "Sorry," Rosie echoed.

    They walked in the drumming rain for six minutes before anyone spoke again.

    "What was he like? The tutor, I mean," Lauren asked.

    "A right bastard," Fritz and Bert said together.

    "Though he is skilled, that much is clear," Fritz continued. "He slipped past my guard like it was nothing. However, that might just have been the disparity between our Attributes."

    "I don''t think it was just that," George said. "The man''s movements were sublime."

    "Could have been Grace," Fritz countered, though he didn''t really believe it.

    "Perhaps," George allowed. "We''ll see."

    "When will we see?" Rosie asked eagerly.

    "Tomorrow, dawn," Fritz said, grimacing.

    ---

    Fritz awoke, it was an annoying way to wake. There was a pounding on his bedroom door.

    "Get up, dawn is near!" Bert cried before his bounding footsteps stomped away.

    Fritz groaned, wiped his bleary eyes and set to dressing himself in clothes he wouldn''t miss if they got ruined. The hall bell rang and Bert shouted for everyone to waken.

    "Always so bloody chipper in the morning," Fritz complained. He snatched up ''The Observations'' from his bed, it had fallen from his chest when he had fallen asleep reading it. Then he slipped it into his Travellers Pack. For some reason, he thought it just wouldn''t do to leave it out in the open.

    He joined his yawning, grumbling team in the dining room where they ate a quick breakfast of fruit and rations bars. It was unpleasant compared to the cooked meals they were now used to.

    "All in favour of Cal waking up earlier to cook us breakfast," Fritz said, calling a vote.

    All except Cal raised their hands and said, "Aye."

    "Vote passed, five to one," Fritz declared.

    Cal was about to protest but there was a loud banging on the front door.

    "That''ll be him," Bert said.

    "Now, I was warned that he was harsh, and he lived up to his reputation last night. Just bear with it. We need as much of the Climbing knowledge as we can wring out of the man''s liquor-pickled brain," Fritz reminded his team.

    "Yes, we know. You''ve told us at least nine times already," Lauren said.

    "We''re Golden Climbers. I don''t see why we need more training," Cal grumbled.

    "That''s right. We''re tough. Do we really need it?" Rosie asked.

    Fritz frowned and was about to reply when the knocking became more insistent. He stood and answered the door instead of the complaints at the table.

    Adam Needle stood in the doorway. He stood a head taller than Fritz, was wearing sturdy, greying clothes and had a pack strapped to his back. A rapier was belted at his side, its gilded hilt gleaming. Most of the man''s fingers were set with various rings of many materials and styles while his wrists were also similarly adorned. Around his neck was a chain of dark metal that shimmered dully. It seemed like the man had a lot of Treasures, and one of them was a Rainshield judging from how dry he was.

    "A lord answering his own door. How novel," Adam observed.

    "Mr Needle," Fritz said amiably, disguising his dislike. "Come on in, my team is positively eager to meet you."

    "You''ll call me Sir while I''m your tutor," Adam stated.

    "Have you decided to take us on then?" Fritz asked.

    "Not yet, I have to see if you''re worth my time and expertise," He replied.

    "Then I''ll call you Sir once the accord has been struck," Fritz stated, smiling blandly.

    Adam frowned, "Already such disrespect. I should turn around and leave."

    "Maybe you should, I''m already beginning to reconsider if we wouldn''t be better off with someone else. We are Silver and Golden Climbers after all."

    "You are are you? You didn''t mention that before," Adam asked, then he yawned. "Well, it matters not. You want the best tutor and I am the best."

    "In Rain City," Fritz corrected.

    The man frowned further, but Fritz could see the man''s beard twitch as if he was suppressing a smirk.

    "In Rain City," he agreed. "But as we''re both stuck here, I''m the best you''ll find."

    "Stuck here?" Fritz asked.

    Adam waved the question away. "Are you going to let me in or not?"

    "Come in," Fritz allowed, leading the bulky man through the hall and into the dining room.

    The team were sitting apprehensively, save Bert who simply grinned at the man.

    "Whoa! You''re big," Rosie said.

    "Rosie, be polite," Lauren chided.

    "Just sayin''," Rosie said.

    "Thank you. I am big," Adam said. "I worked hard for it, and it''s nice you noticed. I like you most."

    Rosie grinned and Lauren pursed her lips.

    "Only six of you?" Adam asked the expectant team.

    "Correct," Fritz said.

    "Roles?"

    "Rose and Bert are Defenders. George and Lauren are Strikers. Cal is support, and I''m the Scout and Captain," Fritz provided.

    "Who''s your second?"

    "Bert," Fritz said.

    Adam nodded.

    "What are your goals? Are you content with Climbing the Mer spire again and again? Or do you have your eyes set higher?"

    "Higher," Fritz answered with certainty.

    Adam nodded in what could only be approval.

    "Well, let''s see what you lot can do. Let''s take this to the yard and I''ll test each of you individually."

    They nodded and followed him out into the large yard. The ground was covered in springy clover and was surrounded by a high wall of stone that blocked the view in and out. Next door there were the sounds of metal on metal. Obviously, the team that lived beside them were also partaking in some early training.

    "It''s a bit small, but it''ll do for now," Adam noted. "Where are the training weapons? Where are the weights?"

    "Uh... we haven''t purchased any yet," Fritz admitted.

    "You should get right on that, you''ll need them whether I decide to tutor you or not," he advised.

    Fritz looked to Lauren who nodded in acknowledgement.

    "You have no Healer, you''ll also need to purchase healing supplies. Accidents happen," Adam informed them.

    "We have some of those in the pantry," Lauren said.

    "You''re the team''s quartermaster?" He asked.

    "For now," Lauren allowed.

    He nodded.

    "We can speak more on organisation later. But you should have a pack or satchel filled with healing aids and you should have it close at hand when ever you train."

    Lauren nodded, seeing the sense.

    Adam waited as they all gathered in the rain. He didn''t speak, just stared at Lauren.

    Eventually she got the message, "Did you want me to do that now?"

    "Yes. Fool. Do it now."

    "Fine," Lauren said.

    For some minutes, they waited. Adam rubbed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly he was suffering from a small hangover. He sighed and dropped his pack next to the door, where it would be out of the way.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    When Lauren reappeared, it was with her own travellers pack. She set it down right by Adam''s own.

    "Good. We can begin. You first, Lord Hightide," Adam said, striding into the centre of the yard, then drawing his blade.

    Seeing the thin steel, Fritz got a sense of how the man had received his name. Compared to the large hands and powerfully built arms of Adam, the rapier looked incongruously small, like a long needle, giving off the impression of an enormous hornet with a sharp, slender stinger.

    Fritz expected the man to posture, to hold his blade lazily and taunt him like any other with greater power might. But there was nothing of the sort in Adam''s demeanour. He was deadly serious from the start. Every movement was solid, studied and terribly efficient. Adam took his stance impeccably, sword up and ready to engage his foe.

    "Any rules? Should I use my Abilities?" Fritz asked, pulling his own blade free.

    "Use everything you have," Adam allowed.

    "Should I not wear armour?" He asked

    "That''s what the healing supplies are for. And if you''re afraid of some small cuts you''re not ''cut'' out for my training."

    Fritz ignored the pun, nodded and drew Mortal Edge with his off-hand. He didn''t intend to use its curse, he''d just grown used to fighting with it, and its cool weight was an odd comfort.

    Adam raised an eyebrow, then Fritz pounded forward.

    Pulling on the cold power humming inside his chest, Fritz conjured a globe of Illusory shadow around the man''s face. The cast was nearly instantaneous, but Adam immediately dodged to the side, trying to slip out of the darkness''s reach. Luckily the Ability''s most recent Evolution, Adhesive Gloom, had rendered it impossible to escape in that manner. The orb stuck to the man like a glob of black, wobbling glue.

    Lethargy was next, the curse quickly woven over his foe.

    Fritz grinned and stabbed forward in a long lunge, taking advantage of Adam''s distraction. He took no chances, gloom slid out from his centre and covered his sword in whispering shade as he closed in. In a blur of shining steel, the man parried blindly. Unerringly, Adam''s blade sought Fritz''s and caught it. Their blades clashed and Quicksilver was pushed to the side with a clang.

    At the same time, a ring on the man''s hand flared with bright light that burned away much of the shadow clinging to his face. Adam cursed and the ring brightened again, banishing what was left of the Illusory Shadow.

    Fritz struck out with Mortal Edge, a straight stab for the man''s gut. Again he was parried and he felt the warning of a cut upon his chest. He stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the sword''s tip and replying with his own thrust. He empowered his attack with Gloom Strike again, but Adam could see it coming and deflected it with ease.

    The man twisted his wrist in a well-practised, precise manner. And with the sound of the grinding of steel on steel, Fritz felt Quicksilver thrown from his hand. Danger Sense whined, and Fritz dived towards his still tumbling blade, slipping just under another stab.

    Fritz seized the moonsilver hilt and rolled away from a piercing blow that would have impacted his upper arm. Leaping to his feet, he summoned another Illusory Shadow over the man''s head. It drained the last of his Dusksong and ate into his Stamina. He had nearly forgotten its far higher cost and suffered for it. He began to pant and his body shook for a second.

    Adam stood still and didn''t say a word, his face drowned in shadow. Fritz began to circle, slipping quietly to the man''s flank. Adam showed no sign of noticing his slow approach, simply holding his blade ready.

    Fritz knew this was his last chance to make an impression, but his mana was empty and his attacks had done little so far. He wouldn''t be able to rely on his Umbral Phase so he''d have to go all out with a flurry of precise strikes. He embraced his Grace, concentrated on his Awareness and stepped into the needle''s range.

    Adam didn''t move, he waited.

    Fritz slashed and stabbed, slicing a rhythm of cuts. Each strike was repelled with ringing parries. Although the man was blind, it made no difference in his defence, it felt like he was predicting the angles of attack, foiling Fritz''s blades. When the darkness dissipated, Danger Sense screamed. Fritz ignored the predictive pains and set to tear a hole in the man''s still undamaged tunic.

    He redoubled his efforts, refining his movements further and falling deeper into that intuitive battle trance that was all prediction, action and reaction. Quicksilver sparked against the Needle, Mortal Edge whistled through the wind, finding no flesh. After a flourish, a feint and another flurry, Adam had to move or take a cut.

    Fritz nearly had him. It was almost enough. A gleam entered Adam''s grey eyes and he parried, then riposted. Fritz tried to dodge, but the blade was unavoidable. His Danger Sense didn''t even warn him until the point of Adam''s sword was an inch away from his skin.

    A small cut, right through the cloth of his shirt. The stinging line only pushed Fritz to fight further, but he was outclassed. Instead of fighting fair, Fritz employed every dirty trick he had, hoping the man hadn''t seen some of the low blows before. That only caused Adam to smirk as he expertly defended his legs, feet and nethers.

    Another cut, along Fritz''s thigh in recompense for his attempted honourless assaults.

    Fritz panted, his chest heaved and he stepped back, creating some space.

    "Done?'' Adam asked with no hint of derision in his tone.

    Fritz considered his options. He could activate his Treasures, but would it make a difference? Would it be worth the gold just to prove a point? Just to satiate his pride?

    "Too slow!" Adam cried, interrupting his thoughts.

    Fritz parried the obvious lunge with his dagger, but his deflection''s direction was changed and Mortal Edge was forced from his grip. Another cut scored, this one along the back of his hand.

    "Done," Adam said, it was no longer a question. He sheathed his blade.

    Fritz scowled, though soon smoothed his features. He was angry at his performance, but also felt a grudging respect for the man''s skill taking root in his chest.

    "Your fencing is slipshod and amateurish. Your body needs work, you have arms like a scarecrow and legs like a starved stalk. Your steps are too loud, your gait too grinding. And you''re not using your Attributes or Abilities to their full potential. Also, you''re slow. Maybe an imbecile. All in all, you''re no good."

    "Did I do anything right?" Fritz groused, trying not to let the tirade of unfair insults perturb him.

    "No," Adam said. "You''re lacking in every respect. Especially respect. Honestly, I can''t believe you''re even a noble."

    "Great," Fritz sighed. "I take it you won''t take me on then?"

    "Not as a sword tutor," Adam said.

    "Why not?" Fritz asked heatedly.

    Adam''s brow took on a contemplative bent and he stared at him for nearly twelve seconds.

    "You said you''re a Scout?"

    "Yes."

    "Scouts aren''t expected to be able to fight as well as Defenders and Strikers. It would be a waste. Why teach a fish to leap?"

    Fritz had nothing to say to such a statement, because it was true. He should be focusing on his strengths. Most of his points were his sensory Attributes with only a smattering in other areas, and trying to become a more potent fencer shouldn''t be one of his priorities. Yet he still desired it, he wanted to be a great swordsman. It didn''t matter if it wasn''t his true calling.

    "This fish will fly," Bert said, striding to Fritz''s side.

    "Impossible," Adam stated. Though when he met Fritz''s determined gaze, he amended his words. "Fine, I''ll give you a test. We''ll duel again in a week. If you can land a cut, I''ll teach you the sword. For now, it''s you next. Bert, wasn''t it?"

    "That''s right," he proclaimed. "Let''s fight."

    ---

    Adam''s fight with Bert was a bloody affair that the tutor called a stop to quickly after taking the madman''s measure. Bert was smiling smugly, arms crossed over his chest and covered in quickly healing cuts. He hadn''t brought Dale into the battle, stating that the snail was still ''too young'' for fighting.

    "You get hit too much, and your brawling is middling at best. Your muscles are undeveloped, weak and unsightly. You''re even slower than your friend, which is saying something, seeing as I don''t believe he can count as high as nine. A wretched performance. I should say go back to the fighting rings, but you might just be better off selling those fists in a brothel."

    Bert just grinned at the words which made the man nod and wave him away, calling on the next of their group.

    Adam cursed up a fury when he was almost burned by the blanket of fire Lauren produced from her lips. He was only saved by another of his Treasures. Great plumes of steam floated into the sky. Dashing forward, he repaid her deadly fire breath by slapping her hip with the flat of his blade. She cried out in shock more than pain, her face reddening from the rude treatment. She tried to incinerate him once more, but he sidestepped the gout of flame, smacking her again with his sword, this time on the outside of her upper thigh.

    It went on like that until the woman was panting, red faced and furious. She coughed slightly as Adam berated her.

    "Your Ability is great. It''s a true waste that it''s attached to you. I thought Bert would be the most skill-less skulg here, but my expectations led me astray. You are the worst. All the unfounded confidence of an idle noble yet none of the poise, dignity or prowess. You don''t even have the excuse of their blood and station. I''m embarrassed for you. Also, your eyebrows are uneven."

    Lauren fumed and it looked like she was going to spew forth flame again, but she held back, gave the man a sharp nod and strode away. Rosie watched on with grim glee, which Lauren noticed. In a huff, the fire mage stalked into the house and slammed the door behind her.

    "Stop grinning those ugly teeth, Fishface, you''re next," Adam said.

    Rosie nodded and walked closer to the man. Wielding her magic hatchet and Treasure war pick, she charged. She shrieked out her battle scream and the man''s eye twitched as the wave of sound crashed into him. Still, he fended off her flurry. He did so easily, gracefully and tested the hardness of her scales with his blade''s edge, before sending her tumbling with a shoulder barge.

    "Your technique, like you, is foul. Completely unrefined and brutish. A skulg would be a better student than you and thrice as graceful. Still, you can take a hit, which will be useful, because with your absence of skill and lack of any wit or guile, you will be hit. A lot."

    "Yeah, yeah. I get it. I''m an ugly, stupid bitch. Got anything else to say?" Rosie said, letting the words wash over her like rain.

    "If you get it; do something about it," Adam replied scathingly. "A bag over the head would work wonders. And reading a book isn''t a crime."

    "Hey! That''s my sister you''re talking to!" Cal yelled, striding up to him.

    "I know that. Are you also slow? Nevermind. Don''t hurt yourself answering. Anyway you''re next, you better do better than the rest of these dregs. Though I don''t hold out much hope."

    Adam was soon being annoyed by Cal''s strategy of running around, just out of reach and throwing guided stones. The rocks seemed easy enough for the man to deflect, but Fritz could tell he despised the style if it could be called as such, completely.

    "Alright, that''s enough," Adam said, snatching a stone out of the air, tossing it back and sending it soaring straight into Cal''s knee.

    The Hauler cried out in pain and tripped over onto the clover. Adam didn''t give him another look. "Absolutely abysmal. I thought I''d seen the worst with your horrible sister, but no, you are the worst. A total coward, and not even a cunning one. As blunt as your choice of weapon. You, in the armour, you''re up!"

    George approached eagerly, while Cal limped out of the way still wincing more from the words than the wound.

    George extended his sword to its longest length and held it at the ready, taking on the solid stance of the Peak Splitter Technique. The edge of the blade leaked with sharp light and upon seeing this Adam held up a hand forestalling the fight.

    "No," he ordered. "Get a pair of training swords from my bag."

    "What? Why?" George asked.

    "Because I''m fond of my sword and I don''t want you to notch it with your Sharpen Blade and whatever other Abilities you might possess," Adam said.

    "You think I could?" George asked proudly.

    "Not really, but it''s not worth the risk. Now hop to it!"

    George obeyed and soon they were standing opposite each other blunt training blades in their hands. The dull lengths of metal looked heavy and were about as long as a grown man''s arm.

    Fritz frowned, annoyed that he hadn''t been deemed such a threat that the man refused to fight with real weapons, as was the case here.

    George''s training sword gleamed with that white glow again and Adam''s followed suit, though the light of his Ability had a brighter, finer edge.

    They nodded to one another respectfully, then they clashed.

    George rushed forward, then chopped down with his sword.

    Adam didn''t bother parrying, he stepped to the side, dodging the attack entirely. The blade sank into the ground. There was a clang when the needle struck the side of an armoured chest. The man frowned, seemingly he felt that he should be able to score the dull iron plate. Sever screamed as George swept the training blade up in a diagonal slash.

    Adam dived around the blow and his sword caught George in a gap in his armour, right around his knee. George grunted and lowered his blade, knowing his defeat.

    "Good Abilities, solid stance, but your swordsmanship is beyond amateurish. I would think you a serf if not for your strong arms. What idiot taught you how to use a sword?"

    "I''m self-taught," George admitted.

    "Only the biggest idiot then. And it seems you haven''t even learnt the first lesson of swordsmanship," Adam ranted.

    "And what''s that?"

    "The sword is not a hammer, or an axe or a pick. It is not a tool that has been repurposed for battle like the others. The sword is forged with one intention. Killing. Remember that when you swing. You''re not trying to split a log, but a living, breathing man."

    George nodded and held his tongue, it was obvious he wanted to object but didn''t want to look more a fool.

    "What?" Adam grumbled.

    "I was actually picturing splitting a mountain," George admitted.

    Adam looked at him incredulously, then laughed heartily.

    "Keep your mind on what you''re fighting," Adam said. "I may be big, but I''m no mountain."

    George nodded.

    "Go gather your mage. One more test then I''ll decide if you''re all worth teaching."

    Fritz nodded and set off into the house. When he entered he could hear a soft thumping, he at first thought it was Lauren taking out her frustrations on the furniture, but soon realised the sound was coming from the front door.

    Puzzled, he strode over and he opened it. There, standing in the doorway, was a young lady in a raincoat over a functional black workdress. Beside her, a large trunk sat, half of it being splattered by rain as it poked out from under the small awning built into the arch of the door.

    Cassandra, the maid he had forgotten he had hired, looked up and wore an expression that was on the verge of despair. Fritz felt some guilt and wondered how long she had been there, knocking without a response.

    She curtsied quickly.

    Fritz signed an apology, and she tilted her head, then signed back.

    "What?"

    "Sorry," Fritz said aloud, correcting his gesture. In his haste, he had accidentally slipped into his thief''s signals rather than the proper core of Climber''s signs that all knew and practised. "It completely slipped my mind that you would be arriving."

    She nodded as if it happened all the time. It likely did, the quiet were oft forgotten.

    "Come on in," Fritz offered.

    She did, dragging her trunk into the hall, then she hung her coat and dried herself.

    "Leave your things, I''ll get Cal to carry that in for you. Come with me, your room is this way," Fritz added.

    He led her to the servant''s quarters that he hadn''t known they''d had until Lauren had informed him a night or two earlier. It was on the first floor and when he opened its door he was dismayed. The room was little larger than his own walk-in closet, with a meagre bed and a thin mattress. There was very little in the way of comfort, the only thing that redeemed it was the fact it had a window.

    "You know, we have some larger rooms upstairs. They''re ostensibly for Climbers. Though as they''re empty, and no one would know, you could have one of those instead," Fritz said with a sly smile.

    She shook her head vehemently, signing something quickly.

    "No. Not proper. This will do."

    He could catch most of what she signed, but he hadn''t studied the more specific and expansive sign vocabulary since he was a child, at the insistence of his father. He likely missed most of the nuance and was interpreting mainly with intuition. He, like most people, just used the most common signs derived from the language. Still, he tried his best to understand her and thought to brush up on the signs later. He''d have to buy a manual.

    There were so many things to learn, not just Climbing and fighting.

    "If you''re sure," Fritz allowed.

    She nodded, smiling politely.

    "I''d give you a quick tour of the house and an outline of your duties. However, I currently have a tutor to attend and I don''t want to keep him waiting. You may stay here or take comfort in the lounge until you''re summoned."

    She nodded again.

    "Any questions?" He asked.

    "Any tasks I can do now?" She signed.

    "None that I can think of," Fritz said.

    He began to turn, but she knocked lightly on the wall to catch his attention.

    He glanced to her.

    "One last thing," she signed slowly. "Thank you, Lord."

    Then she curtsied as low as she could manage.

    "You''re welcome," Fritz said bowing slightly.

    He turned and this time was uninterrupted as he made his way up the stairs.

    Fritz found Lauren in front of a tall mirror. She must have bought it and brought it in herself, as he had nothing of the sort in his own room. She was grumbling and tilting her face this way and that, staring hard at her striking reflection.

    "Lauren," Fritz said. "Adam wants all of us for a test."

    "I don''t care! He is a vile, cruel, old man," Lauren spat. "I''d rather be taught by a squid than a crusty drunk like him."

    "Fair," Fritz said, having had some of the same thoughts. "But he''s the best we can find. One last test and we''ll either be rid of him or we''ll be learning what we need. Becoming far more powerful than we could on our own."

    Lauren sighed.

    "You''re right. Though does he have to be so vicious?"

    "Probably not. However, I suspect that this is another of his tests. How much belittlement and brutal criticism will we endure to get strong? Are we likely to just give up if things are too hard or he''s too cruel? That sort of trial."

    "That''s stupid," Lauren said.

    "It is," Fritz agreed. "Are you coming?"

    Lauren sighed again.

    "I''m coming."

    ---

    When they were gathered in the yard again, Adam handed out training weapons from his pack and instructed them to try and take him down as they would a powerful beast.

    "All of us, all at once?" Cal asked sceptically.

    "That''s right, come at me," Adam said surely.

    "Any rules?" Bert asked, stretching an arm across his body.

    "Not really. You can use Abilities, but be careful of your team. There''s no Well at the end of the floor to heal you up here, so any injuries will linger," Adam warned.

    "What about you? What if you''re hurt?" Lauren asked, feigning concern. It looked like she relished the chance to inflict some revenge.

    "I''ll be fine."

    With that, he signalled to start.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 16

    Before they charged Adam, Fritz stopped his team, calling them to gather around him with a sharp gesture.

    Adam smiled and Fritz supposed they had just passed one of his hidden tests. Likely one about not charging in without a plan. They huddled close as the light rain fell.

    "What do we do?" Cal asked.

    Fritz thought for a moment, considering their tired and likely mana-drained states after their personal fights with the man and attempting to form a cohesive plan. He decided to take their tutor''s advice and assault him like they would any beast.

    "Protect Lauren while I sneak to his flank. Bert give me a minute to get into position then charge. Strikers, wait for Bert or I to create an opening, then strike with what you have. Rosie, you keep the back line safe. Cal lend some support where you can with your stones. How are your mana reserves?"

    Each of the team quietly informed him that, while they were tired, they all could use at least one or two more Abilities. Cal and Bert seemed the only two who weren''t as drained, a product of their Traits and high Endurance Attributes. Bert was the one with the most tiring task, so it was well that he had aligned so many points in his recovery Attributes.

    The team looked stiff and nervous. Fritz wondered what he could say to ease their worry. He needn''t have bothered.

    "It''ll be easy. Just like the Raider," Bert claimed, keeping his voice low.

    "Easy?" Cal whispered incredulously. "We almost died. Some of us three times over."

    "But we didn''t," Bert countered. "And this will be even easier. This fellow isn''t looking to murder us. Or skin us after."

    "True as the rain," Fritz agreed. "And just like when we fought that beast, and the Aberrant Eel after, we will triumph."

    The team remembered their victories and Fritz could see some of the tension leave their collective shoulders, replaced with confidence.

    With a plan in mind, they started to encircle the man. Fritz cloaked himself in dusk and slipped into a wall''s shadow.

    Adam guessed their strategy immediately, basic as it was, and moved to foil them, speeding toward Lauren. Rosie Interposed herself between the two, as was her task, then leapt at the man, shrieking. She forewent defence, attempting to bring him down by tackling his legs. He kicked her in the face and her jaw was forced shut with a wet crack, cutting off the piercing cry.

    As she fell, Fritz charged the man''s left while Bert took his right. An orb of black enclosed Adam''s head. Blinding the man with Illusory Shadow took what little Dusksong Fritz had left and sucked the very energy out of his body. It was worth the drain, Adam couldn''t see Bert''s Corrosive Spray coming. His flesh and clothes sizzled, and he yelled in surprise before activating a Treasure.

    The man''s skin instantly took on a slimy sheen and the corrosive hiss ceased. A ring flared with light, momentarily filling Fritz''s vision with white. Instead of slowing, Fritz threw himself forward, lunging at Adam''s previous position and thrusting with his training sword. Even as Fritz''s eyes quickly cleared, his attack was deflected and he felt the oncoming crushing blow of Adam''s own blunted blade. He dodged and countered, timing his strikes with the stones and punches being thrown Adams''s way by Bert and Cal.

    It was during this blitz that Fritz landed his first blow on the man, a jarring thump travelled up his arm when his sword''s tip struck a point on the man''s chest, just below the heart. The strike wasn''t perfect, far from it, but it was more than satisfying when he heard Adam grunt.

    Danger Sense ached in warning, but Fritz couldn''t keep up with both the man''s skill and speed. Although Fritz dodged precisely, and could feel where the strike would land, the predictive pain never faded as it would have if he had avoided the blow. Instead, the sensation stuck, staying with him and only slightly shifting until its prophecy became the present.

    Thwack.

    Fritz dropped his training sword and clutched at his shoulder. His whole arm went numb, and another blow came for his leg. He leapt backwards, out of the sweeping strike, and as he tumbled he could see both Rosie and Bert lying on the ground nursing their heads.

    The was the unmistakable cry of Sever, and Lauren''s fire roared, but those sounds were cut short as Adam sped through the battlefield. He knocked down Lauren, then George, in a series of blurring steps and swift, solid strikes to their centres. Only Cal was left standing and although the man could run quickly he couldn''t outpace his betters.

    In a desperate attempt to keep the man away, Cal produced his flail and swung it. It was for nought. Adam slipped under the soaring ball, and in a heartbeat Cal joined the rest of the team sprawling on the clover.

    Adam looked them over as they groaned and grumbled. The man bore an expression of both contemplation and frustration. He began to pace.

    "Utterly dreadful," he grumbled. "I''m half-hungover and all-too-rusty and you could only inflict a couple of scrapes and only one decent strike."

    He stopped stalking to and fro, then glared at the team. They glowered back at him in challenge.

    "Get up and run. Nine laps around the yard," he barked.

    The team staggered to their feet and did as he ordered.

    "Faster!" He yelled when their staggering gaits didn''t meet his standards.

    And so began a regimen of running and rebuking as they stumbled and sprinted around the yard.

    Cal finished first, his Powers being particularly suited to such things. Bert was next on his heels, followed by George, then Fritz. Rosie came second to last but was able to complete the laps minutes before Lauren, who was the slowest and most easily exhausted.

    Just because Cal was able to finish running first didn''t earn him any respite. As soon as he stopped, his chest heaving, Adam ordered him to start going through more selective exercises. The others were forced to join as they themselves ended their last laps. Adam had a slew of stretches and strength-straining lifts that he coached them through as they finished one course after another.

    The morning dragged on. None were spared the tortuous training, nor the taunting tirades that were levelled at them when they failed to meet Adam''s expectations. Fritz felt as wrung out as a rain towel, barely listening to the man''s incessant criticisms. Whether it was about their poor postures, sloppy stances or even how they somehow swung their arms wrong when they ran.

    Nothing seemed to be good enough.

    One by one they dropped, eventually too exhausted to continue moving. They lay there panting, heaving, coughing and spluttering in the light rain as Adam ranted about their many and multifarious flaws.

    "Slow, weak and already out of Stamina," he said. "Completely inadequate! With your Powers you should have no issues completing all that I asked of you, and more, in under two hours."

    They didn''t bother trying to argue, being far too tired to reply.

    "I''m starting to think you''re liars. There''s no way you Climbed to the sixth floor of the Mer Spire let alone its precipice with all that you lack. Must have relied on powerful Treasures and potions."

    That comment got them back on their feet, yelling, cursing and swearing at the man, all while he smirked, seemingly delighting in their outrage. The bastard.

    "If you have the strength to shout at me you have the strength to run," Adam proclaimed. "Another three laps."

    They groaned and swore some more.

    "With your training weapons! Then you can break for lunch!"

    With the prospect of a rest on the near horizon, they groggily gathered the blunted blades and bulky batons and began to jog, then run in staggering strides.

    The man nodded once, seemingly pleased, then turned and strode into their house without another word.

    They ran, some fell, though they didn''t stay down for long. And none tried to shirk the full three laps as Fritz had warned them not to through heaving breaths.

    "This...is...still...a...test."

    "Arsehole," Cal growled.

    "Bastard," Rosie coughed. "Hate him."

    "Tyrant," Lauren bemoaned, panting.

    "Squidbedder," Bert grumbled.

    Only George didn''t curse, he was concentrated on surviving the last few laps. Which was understandable as he had done everything in his armour and that would be a true torture, even with his Armourclad Acclimation Passive.

    Eventually, they were done and they dully trudged into the house, wiped the mud, the blue and teal clover stains and the water from themselves with rain towels. While they did so, Fritz worried. He feared. His mind was filled with the biting berating and his chest was filled with the dreadful feeling of failure. Both his exhaustion and his trepidation pulled at him, trying to force him to the floor, but he kept moving, kept leading his team forward.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Fritz motioned at his team to follow, and they walked into the dining room where they found the table set and some food already laid out for them. Adam sat at one end and was already partaking in a blood lime, cutting it and piecing it with a knife and fork as proper as any noble. They glanced around suspiciously, but took their seats and began to eat a lunch of bread, fruit and ration bars.

    That was until the door to the kitchen opened and the scent of smoke wafted through, along with the prim figure of Cassandra in a white apron and bonnet. She held a bronze platter stacked high with long, thick, red sausages. Seemingly they had been grilled judging from the lines of black across them and they sweat with hot juices. She delicately placed the dish in the centre of the table and they dug into the hill of meat with gusto, spearing the sausages with their forks and piling them on their own plates.

    They were delicious, fatty and smokey with a hint of some foreign spice.

    "What are these made of?" Cal asked rudely through a mostly full mouth.

    Adam frowned.

    "They''re redroast sausages, a recipe I picked up in Steletso, near the Steel Spire. I have a friend who makes them for me."

    "They''re good!" Bert cried.

    "They''re not as good as the real thing. We don''t have the same mana-dense meats or vegetables here. That and the king is a prick and hoards the good stuff for him and his chosen nobles."

    "These are yours?" Fritz asked, having thought the delectable, filling food was something maybe Cal had procured.

    "That''s right. When I saw the barren nature of your pantry I couldn''t simply sit by and watch you eat only those foul rations and simple bread. It would lengthen the span of your recovery, for one. And for two, it would just be sad to see."

    "I''m surprised you care so much," Lauren said. "After our miserable performances and our what was it?"

    "Complete inadequacy," he repeated jovially.

    Lauren sniffed, turning her head away from the man, though she continued to eat, as ravenous as anyone had ever seen her.

    Adam laughed. "You''ll have to do better than that to belittle me. I''ve been snubbed by the very best, and the worst."

    "Lauren raises a pertinent point," Fritz said. "Why are you treating us to this wonderful meal? And why do you care about our recovery."

    "Hmm? Why?" The man asked. "Because I''m your tutor."

    The table went silent and the dread that had been building within Fritz''s chest was washed away by a tide of relief.

    "You''ve decided to take us on?" Bert asked eagerly as the rest stared on in surprise.

    "Correct," Adam said.

    "What?" Cal asked. "Then what was all the insults and cruelty?"

    "Had to take your measure and test your mettle," he said simply.

    "And what of it did you discover?" Fritz asked

    Adam set down his own cutlery and searched their faces, a pensive expression was cast over his features and he ran his hand through his short, unevenly-shorn beard.

    "You''re an odd team. Rosie and George have the most commonly seen kits, though I would be hesitant to call some of their Abilities truly common. The rest of you are rarities. Especially Bert, Lauren and Cal. You three have some truly rare Powers."

    "Not me?'' Fritz asked, somewhat surprised.

    "Shadow is cast by rain clouds and there is darkness in the deeps. And as such, the Mer and Rain Spire occasionally allow such powers to be chosen. So shadow-aligned Abilities are uncommon but not unheard of. Fire, Vitality, Acid and Space, though, now those are rare in Rain City," Adam explained.

    The team nodded along, exhausted and enthralled by the man''s collected cadence. Fritz worried that they may have revealed too much of their powers, but set his fears aside for now. What was done was done and they needed this man''s aid to grow more powerful, he couldn''t regret it.

    "And that''s why you''re going to teach us?" Rosie asked. "Cause they got lucky with their powers?"

    "No. That''s not why," he said seriously.

    "Then why?'' Fritz asked. "It''s not like you''d take us on just because I''m a noble. You seem to despise them."

    "I do and I don''t. Many tend to idleness and arrogance. And I can''t stand how they squabble over and squander what they have. Though I might have instructed you if you had a noble''s wealth and lavished me with gold," Adam admitted easily. "Don''t look at me like that, a man has got to eat. And drink."

    Fritz suspected the second was his main reason to take on such students.

    "Then why?" Lauren asked with a hint of exasperation, as the point was being dragged out beyond her patience.

    "Because each of you have grit and drive. More bones and balls than any of the noble scions I''ve been teaching of late. And it''ll be a challenge, something I''ve sorely missed."

    "A challenge?"

    "Yes. To beat out your innumerable bad habits, polish your lacklustre skills and sculpt you into Climbers that can take on any Spire."

    Cal grumbled something.

    "What was that?"

    "I said: we aren''t that bad and we don''t need you. We Golden Climbed the Mer Spire. By ourselves. With no Guide."

    "Likely a fluke," Adam said. "It can happen." His tone was one of dismissal, but his eyes glanced to Fritz for a moment as if he suspected him of harbouring some hidden Senses.

    "Still, if we were as inadequate as you say, we''d be dead. Not living good and dry," Cal argued, then he turned his appeal to Fritz and the rest of the team. "We''re strong. And we can get stronger on our own. I don''t see why we need him."

    Adam sighed. "You''re right. You aren''t a complete waste. But you could be better, far better than you are right now. A year, nay, three months under my tutelage and you could complete the Rain Spire without casualties. You''d prefer that, wouldn''t you? Or would you rather see your team die one by one, suffering, screaming, bleeding out? Just because you didn''t want to do the hard work or couldn''t take the hard words?"

    Cal looked to his sister, his eyes darting to where she had been stabbed by the bittersteel dagger. His face fell.

    Fritz had remained silent this entire time, watching his team as they slowly came to accept Adam as their tutor. He could see some doubt lingering over them. They recalled all the close calls and deadly perils they had only barely survived in the Mer Spire.

    When Fritz thought he could feel their wills coalesce into an air of determination, he spoke for them, taking his rightful place as their Captain, leader and Lord.

    "We thank you for taking us on, we won''t disappoint you," he said.

    "Can''t disappoint me more than you already have," Adam said.

    Fritz smiled blandly, the man was still grating, still offhandedly cruel, but he endured it for now, there were worse things. There were worse people.

    "We will endeavour to meet your expectations," Fritz said.

    "Good. It''ll be hard, but as you well know it will be worth it," Adam claimed.

    Fritz nodded.

    The team resumed their meal, shovelling it down as delicately or indelicately as they cared to.

    "Hey, Adam?" Rose asked, still chewing.

    "Sir," Adam insisted amiably.

    "Sir," Rosie repeated.

    "Yes?"

    "Who''s that?" She asked, motioning at Cassandra with her fork. The maid was stood in the corner ready and waiting to be called upon.

    The whole team turned to look, seemingly noticing her for the first time. They must have been too distracted by their hunger and exhaustion to register her presence. Though perhaps it was her quiet and unobtrusive manner that caused them to overlook her.

    Her grey eyes went wide, fearful of all the attention she was suddenly receiving.

    "What? You don''t know her? I found her idle in the servant''s quarters and put her to work," Adam stated.

    Fritz coughed, a little embarrassed he''d forgotten to tell his team about their new maid.

    "This is Ms. Cassandra Netter, our live-in servant," Fritz announced. "I hired her on yesterday and she started this very morning."

    She quickly curtsied, shaking only slightly as she held the posture.

    "Oh. Nice to meet you," Rosie said.

    The rest of the team gave similar greetings as Fritz motioned for her to rise out of her curtsy.

    "Ms Netter can''t speak, so try to be mindful of how you ask your questions," Fritz said.

    A downing look of disbelief came over Bert and he looked at Fritz incredulously. "So she''s ''not one for talk?'' Really, Fritz?"

    Bert''s face was every bit as amusing as he''d hoped it would be.

    ''Really," Fritz said, smiling blandly and hiding his glee. "She''s not deaf or slow, in fact, she''s quite quick and will likely prove her competence swiftly. Isn''t that right?"

    Cassandra nodded and signalled, "Yes. Thank you. I will work hard."

    He wasn''t so sure about reading the last part right, but his Awareness intuited it for him, vaguely.

    The team looked to each other with some scepticism, but if they had any objections they didn''t speak them.

    Adam frowned at the scene and began to sign to the maid, he had a good grasp of the language and soon the two were conversing quickly. Eventually, he nodded and smiled gently. Fritz didn''t know he had it in him.

    "Good," Adam said. "This will also help your team. Very clever of you Lord Hightide."

    "Of course, "Fritz said, accepting the compliment easily, though, he had no idea what the man was referring to. It was one of the first bits of praise Adam had doled out, he wasn''t about to question it.

    "Now. Once everyone has eaten, I''ll give you all some private tutelage. We can make a personalised plan suitable for each of you, and your oddities and specialities. I''ll start with the Lord Hightide, we have much to discuss."

    The team nodded, sparks of eagerness coupled with worry leaping from them.

    "Sir, I think I''m too tired for all that," Rosie grumbled, yawning.

    "Me too, Sir" Bert said echoing her yawn.

    Fritz silently agreed. Now that he had something in his stomach, sleepiness was starting to take hold.

    Adam looked them over with a keen gaze.

    "Right. It was your first day and you''re not used to all the exertion yet. You should have your full faculties about you when I teach. Or as full as can be expected," he said. "I''ll see you all tomorrow at dawn. Lord Hightide, if I could have a moment of your time before I leave?"

    "You have it," Fritz said standing as the tutor did.

    Fritz led the man to the lounge and closed the door behind them.

    "What is it you wished to discuss?"

    "Many things, but they can wait for tomorrow. Mainly I''m concerned about remuneration."

    "Remuneration?"

    "If you can afford my expertise."

    "I thought you said you owe me a debt."

    "Not one large enough to tutor you and your team without recompense. However, I will lessen the burden to a third of what I usually demand."

    "And why would you do that?"

    Adam scratched his beard.

    "I want to see you all improve. You could all be great," he admitted.

    "Even Rosie?" Fritz asked, attempting a joke.

    Adam stared at him seriously, not laughing.

    "Each of you holds potential," he said. "It just needs to be brought out further. A Gold Climb is no jest."

    "I thought you said it was a fluke," Fritz argued.

    "I lied. It was to keep them humble. Overconfidence kills too many for me to let it take root so early," he explained. "And it was no fluke, you have one of your father''s Senses. Likely more. I could tell by the way you fought."

    "Just how much could you tell," Fritz asked, feeling the sudden spike of worry in his chest.

    "More than you fear," the man said as he moved the collar of his grey shirt to display a dark smudge on his collarbone. Fritz might have thought it a bruise if it weren''t for the obvious blackness of the ink. "We match, no?"

    "You have one too," Fritz said, shocked that the man bore the Nightshark''s fang.

    "Yes," Adam confirmed. "I tried to get it removed outside of Rain City."

    "There''s a way to..."

    "I couldn''t find one," the man said. "I know that it''s possible, though not the theory nor the magics required to remove it without harm."

    It was disappointing to hear that he didn''t know anything further about removal, but knowing that the black fang could be destroyed was a boon and half.

    "Then you also know about..."

    "The secret. Oh, yes. Silver Climbed."

    "Do you work for her?" Fritz asked, worrying he''d inveigled himself further into the Nightshark''s taloned grasp.

    "Not anymore," Adam stated. "We parted ways some time ago. One dark, bloody day."

    "And she just allows you to walk around?"

    "Hah, no. That bitch is part of the reason I''m stuck here. That, and the King''s grudge."

    "Why hasn''t she tried to murder you?" Fritz asked, choosing the more pressing of the questions in his mind.

    "She has. I''m just hard to kill," Adam said. "I''m stronger than any of her enforcers, and she herself can''t contend with me."

    "Then why don''t you deal with her yourself?" Fritz asked.

    "Because it''s one thing to fight off an ambush and another thing entirely to attack a fortress," Adam said, sighing. "Anyway, we''ve digressed. Back to business. Usually, I charge one gold triad per day from each Climber, and at a third that''s three silver."

    Fritz nearly choked.

    "For the six of us, that''s two gold triads a day!"

    "That''s right. Though I need not come every day," Adam said.

    "Seems a steep cost."

    The man nodded. "We all have expenses, Lord Hightide. And I don''t work for free. No matter your title or potential."

    Fritz nodded slowly and reached for his purse. It was exorbitant, but he judged it necessary.

    "Today was an exception," Adam said. "Tomorrow we can truly start."

    "Tomorrow then, Sir," Fritz said.

    Adam smiled and held out his hand, Fritz took it and they shook.

    "Good. Prepare yourself, Lord Hightide."

    "For what?"

    "For greatness."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 17

    Adam had left and the team were gathered in the lounge, warming themselves by the fireplace. They grumbled and groused, and let out curses when Fritz told them that the man had agreed to be their tutor. They swore more when he informed them of his price.

    "Three silvers a day?!" Bert burst out.

    "A total scam!" Cal cried.

    "Hate that bastard," Rosie said.

    Dale whistled, joining the outrage.

    "Much less than I thought, how did you haggle him down?" Lauren said as the shouts died down.

    "Wait. That''s a good price?" Cal asked.

    "Yes, very good," Lauren said.

    "It didn''t take much. Just some small persuasion. He was actually quite interested in training us. Said we had some potential," Fritz admitted.

    "He did?" George asked.

    "Then why didn''t he say it to our faces?" Cal interrupted.

    "He had his reasons," Fritz said, trying to make the man sound mysterious rather than just an arsehole. "And you can ask him yourself, tomorrow. For now, rest up. We need to prepare for more of the same. And worse."

    "Fine," Cal sighed.

    "I think I''ll retire to my room," Lauren said wearily as she rose from her armchair. "I shall see you all again at dinner."

    "I too, shall retire," Fritz said, feeling each and every ache he recently earned.

    "What about the weights and other equipment he told us to buy?" Cal asked.

    "I''ll ask him for a list, and we can acquire them tomorrow with the team''s funds," Lauren said, stifling a yawn and rubbing at a sore hip.

    "Now that you speak of funds, how is the selling of the sirensilk proceeding?" Fritz asked.

    "Well enough. That tailor you brought us to had some helpful advice, however, we still have plenty of sheets left to sell," Lauren said.

    "How well is well enough?" George asked.

    "So far we''ve sold three sheets for three-hundred-and-sixty triads. And we were able to sell all the monster materials we had for just over half of that. All said, we currently have five-hundred-and-forty gold in the vault," Lauren explained.

    The room went silent. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

    "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Fritz asked, almost thinking he had misheard.

    "The part about the gold," Bert added eagerly.

    "Five hundred and forty gold triads," Lauren said. A slight smug smile slid up one side of her face as she watched all their stunned expressions.

    "That''s a fortune," Bert said.

    "It is quite a bit," Lauren allowed. "For now."

    "For now? We could live for years and years on that much. We wouldn''t even have to work," Cal said.

    "We likely could. Though it would run out, eventually," Fritz said.

    "And doin'' nothin'' would be borin''," Rosie said.

    "Agreed," Bert said.

    "Well, now that I know our funds are so flush. I can trust you to gather the recommended equipment without any restraint," Fritz stated.

    "Of course," Lauren said primly.

    With that, the team broke, either staying in the warm lounge or returning to their rooms to recover.

    Fritz called out to Lauren in the hall. "A moment if you will."

    "Yes?" She asked.

    "I wanted to ask you about our maid," Fritz said.

    "What do you mean? You hired her."

    "Ah, yes, I did. And I think she''ll be a great addition to the household. It is just that I haven''t had servants since I was a child and I have very little idea what tasks I should set her to do," Fritz said.

    "I see," Lauren said, frowning slightly.

    "And I was thinking that you, with your greater experience with hired help, would be more equipped than I in directing her. I know it''s another burden, but can I entrust her to you?" Fritz entreated.

    Lauren sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, then said, "Yes, I can do that."

    Fritz didn''t think the request warranted as much exasperation as Lauren expressed, but he kept his face grateful. It was likely just the weariness from their admittedly exhausting morning.

    "Thank you. And I''m sure you''ll find her a pleasant presence in this house soon enough," Fritz espoused.

    "Yes, I suppose so. She''s a pretty thing, if a little timid. Though, who wouldn''t be so when settling into a house of Climbers," Lauren said. "I''ll see to her now."

    "Good. Everyday I wonder what miracle brought you to our team," Fritz flattered.

    She scoffed and slapped him on the chest. "You did. Fool. Now out of the way."

    Fritz stepped aside, letting Lauren make her way to the servant''s quarters. He saw her straighten as she approached the ajar door, smoothing her robes and hair so as to appear more dignified.

    She knocked, opened the door the rest of the way and soon she was efficiently dictating the maid''s duties.

    Fritz smiled as he left all that hassle to someone else, trudging his tired legs up the stairs, into his room, then falling into his bed.

    He groaned, then closed his eyes for merely a moment, just to rest them. He dozed for some seconds before forcing himself up and away from the siren song of sleep. It wouldn''t do to waste the daytime hours. Instead, he decided to work on his swordsmanship.

    Although he did admit that he was lacking in skill, his pride had still been bruised by Adam''s disdain. He couldn''t let it lie, it felt like a small needle pricking his brain over and over. That look of disappointment flashing before his eyes again.

    Fritz considered his path forward, he felt he needed to pull forth his father''s Technique from the depths of his recollection to ever have a chance of striking the man within a week. And that meant training.

    Taking up Quicksilver, Fritz made his way down the stairs and into the yard. To his mild surprise, he found George already there, swinging his copperchange sword and counting out each overhead chop with a grunt.

    Fritz watched for a moment or two before finding a spot to train for himself. He started with a couple of exercises intended to stretch his muscles, increase his flexibility and render him more limber. His body felt loose and heavy from his prior exertions, but he bore with the uncomfortable aches. As he readied himself for more training, some strength was beginning to return to his limbs, likely a result of a second wind and the mana-dense lunch he had eaten.

    Fritz took his stance, raising Quicksilver while leaving his dagger in its sheath. For now, he wanted to focus on the proper forms his father had drilled into him all those years ago. He brought back those memories and tried to picture that precise and perfect stance. He bent his knees slightly, straightened his back and adjusted the angle of his blade an inch or two, trying to imitate what he recalled.

    Imagining an opponent before him, one that bore a resemblance to his new tutor, he concentrated on his form. Fritz let his Grace suffuse his arms and legs. Then he thrust. Right for the imagined man''s heart. His blade wavered for an instant and the tip would have pierced a lung rather than its proper target, even if the imagined foe hadn''t parried the blow in his mind.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Fritz frowned, pulled back his blade and thrust again, and again, for nearly nine minutes, until he could no longer keep his sword steady. He sat heavily, panting out one breath after another. He felt he was close to something, some sort of breakthrough. Yet, he also felt like he was a mile away, that he was missing something important, something that made the Technique, and himself, whole.

    George joined him, he was also heaving from his own practice. He smiled at Fritz, who tried to return it. It must have looked pained or too bitter because the other man''s face fell.

    "Are you alright, Fritz?" George asked.

    He considered lying, assuaging the man with some false confidence, but seeing the man''s concern he knew it wouldn''t be right.

    "No," Fritz admitted. "It''s just as Sir Needle said. I''m a terrible excuse for a swordsman."

    "He said the same to me," George commiserated.

    "Yes. Though it''s different for you. You never had the privilege of an expert teaching you from a young age to wield both a sword and a powerful Technique," Fritz said, and it sounded like petulance to even his own ears. "I feel I''ve squandered all that was given to me. And like I''ll never grasp what my father was trying to teach. I should have aligned more to Memory, maybe that would have helped."

    "Maybe," George said.

    They sat in silence for what felt like six minutes, their breaths slowing to a normal pace. It was comforting in a way.

    George stood. "Fritz, you''ll get there. We both will."

    That small statement helped, then George''s outstretched hand lifted him back to his feet.

    "How about we spar?" Fritz asked, knowing that his solitary method wasn''t doing him much good.

    "Yes, let''s," George agreed.

    "Though, for now, why don''t we use sticks rather than swords," Fritz hedged, eyeing the man''s massive blade. "Not too keen on being split in half by that."

    "Indeed!" George chuckled, then spoke more seriously. "Sir Needle left his bag of training weapons. We can use those."

    Fritz nodded, and soon they were testing each other''s skill. He found his opponent to be ponderous though practical. George''s solid, sweeping strikes had little flair, however, what those swings lacked in grace they made up for with overwhelming strength and a surprising speed.

    Fritz couldn''t hope to parry the blows, he would be knocked out of his stance or off his feet in the worst case. So he had to slip around the man''s guard, flourish and feint to force the man to commit to one of his tremendous slashes before striking himself. He felt like a sly bird flittering around a snapping tortoise.

    Little by little, they learned of each other, of their strength and skill, and Fritz was left feeling both impressed and stymied. George was indeed an amateur, but more and more he failed to fall for Fritz''s tricks, while he himself learned little in the process. It was easy to strike the man, but over their time fighting it was getting harder to score clean hits against where his vital points would be.

    The sparring wasn''t all for nought, Fritz was finding it easier to step, strafe and lunge without misplacing his feet and weakening his stance and fencer''s forms. And maybe that was one of the things he was missing. He didn''t know, he just moved and cut, dodged and sliced, stepped and thrust.

    They continued as such for at least an hour before both were wrung out completely. Fritz had won the majority of their bouts, for all George''s physical advantages, he just didn''t have the expertise to keep up. Only when Fritz was reckless, or idiotically attempted to parry, or concentrated too much on the positioning of his body, did the man land resounding, bone-jarring blows.

    Fritz could feel those attacks coming through his Danger Sense and was able to slip away from most of them, still, those chops came fast and some found their mark regardless of the forewarning. He knew the man was pulling his sword strikes, but they still hurt, and he would have bruises all over himself by day''s end.

    "Ouch," Fritz said, wincing as he sat and rubbed his shoulder.

    "Sorry," George said sheepishly, taking a seat beside him on the clover.

    "No fault of yours. In fact, you''re teaching me a valuable lesson."

    "Oh?"

    "Don''t fight a man in plate armour. Swords do nothing," Fritz bemoaned.

    "It''s only half plate," George corrected. "And if you used Abilities, I''m sure you wouldn''t lose even one round."

    "The same could be said of your powers," Fritz said. "Your sword could cut through me like butter."

    "If I could see and hit you," George argued.

    Fritz smirked, that was entirely true. While his Illusory Shadows wouldn''t work on those with powerful senses or some other detection Ability, against anyone without such advantages he''d be a true terror.

    "What a day." George sighed. The sound wasn''t melancholy or full of bitter recrimination like Fritz''s own were. But was instead an exhalation of pride, of satisfaction in hard work well done. "Wearying, but I feel like we''re on the right path."

    Fritz nodded in almost full agreement. It was always difficult to shake off his doubts about his choices, but hearing George voice his confidence was a balm to his bruised ego.

    "I''m dead tired," Fritz said, standing on loose, leaden legs. "We should get some rest. Training too hard today might ruin our performance tomorrow."

    George nodded and stood.

    With that Fritz returned to the house found some clean clothes, then showered outside. After he was done he slumped onto a couch in the lounge and attempted to read. It was not to be, he fell into a doze and was only woken when the hall''s bell was rung. The signal for dinner.

    Fritz wanted to sprint toward the dining room, but his body wouldn''t let him. Bert, however, did, thundering down the stairs.

    The team gathered quickly and they were ravenous. They ate a hearty stew of all the remaining monster meats with a side of bread, butter and some more of the delectable redroast sausages.

    "Is this that same shark we butchered, and is this lightning eel?" Lauren asked sceptically as she held up a spoonful of the chunky, grey-ish stew. "Shouldn''t it be rotten by now?"

    Cal shrugged. "The mana keeps it fresh for longer. That''s what my book says. And it smelled fine."

    "Smells fine indeed," Bert agreed slurping down the thick, salty broth.

    To Fritz''s nose, the various meats were on the edge of going bad, but the choice between a mana-dense meal or a normal one wasn''t much of a choice. They needed the restorative benefits, that, and he''d eaten far worse in the gutters and wouldn''t complain about a little sourness.

    Lauren''s face scrunched a bit, though it seemed she also came to a similar conclusion and she ate more than her usual fare.

    After stuffing themselves, they all retired for an early night, Rosie and Bert even chose to sleep apart in their own rooms. A welcome relief for those with neighbouring walls. Trudging, yawning, Fritz collapsed into his neatly made bed and barely had the energy to take off his boots before crawling under the covers.

    ---

    Fritz awoke. It was dark. His stomach grumbled, but that wasn''t the only intrusive noise. The was a knocking coming from his window and there, standing behind the glass was a figure in a dark cloak and a brown coat. For a second, his still muddled mind thought it to be Sid and his heart raced.

    His burgeoning smile fell away in an instant when he saw a man''s scarred face and dark hair flecked with white. The man rapped hard on the pane and Fritz reluctantly strode to the window and opened it. Then he stepped away and motioned for Craig to come in.

    The man gave a crooked smile and glanced down at the bronze of the window sill. He purposefully placed a hand across it. In the moment that the man touched the metal a faint darkness slid around his fingers in wisping, black tendrils. He vaulted into the room without a sound and stood before Fritz, looking him up and down, judging him as if he were a fish at the dock markets.

    Fritz hid his scowl and the surprise that the window''s wards hadn''t activated as he was warned they would.

    "Fritz, isn''t it?" Craig asked. His voice was almost a wheeze like he was at the edge of coughing.

    "That''s right," Fritz said.

    "Not gonna ask who I am or what I want?"

    "I know who you are, Craig Cutter. And I already know the Nightshark sent you."

    "Good lad. Stops us from wastin'' that precious prospect called time."

    Fritz nodded.

    "Well, let''s get to it then. Put on some proper thievin'' gear and meet me outside," he ordered.

    The man leapt out of the window and faded into the darkness, foiling Fritz''s Night Vision with some veil of shadow.

    Keeping quiet, Fritz closed the window and slipped into his closet. He pulled on some of the darker articles of clothing he owned, desperately wishing that he had more time to sleep. Although his rest had rejuvenated him somewhat, his head and limbs still felt heavy.

    He looped on his Eelkin Belt and thought about what else he should take with him. He settled on what was left of his rope and both his favoured weapons.

    While Quicksilver and its long scabbard would get in the way, especially when navigating narrow alleys, he decided to bring it along. He wouldn''t part with it in a Spire, so he wouldn''t part with it out of one. This was a chance to practise handling its awkward length and maybe elicit a few tips from the Cutter himself.

    Ignoring his aching muscles, Fritz made his way downstairs cloaked in dusk. He slipped into the kitchen, then into the pantry and raided the remedies. He drank a small tonic down and took a small packet of herbs, choking the chopped leaves down with a glass of clean rainwater. He spied a bar of foul rations and swiftly ate it, blunting the edge of his hunger.

    After that, he scratched a quick note on a scrap of paper and slid it under Bert''s door, then he was down the stairs again and crept out the front, closing the door softly.

    Fritz searched the street for Craig, his eyes darting from one shadowed alcove to another. A high whistle pierced the soft drumming of the rain and he turned to see the man standing just six yards away from him, right across the road. Craig tilted his head in that thief''s sign that meant: "Get over here."

    Fritz strode to him with some apprehension, though he didn''t let it show, and the man glanced over what he had brought with him. Craig frowned, seemingly displeased, but he didn''t say a word, instead, he turned and beckoned for Fritz to follow.

    He began speaking, his rasp hard to catch in the rain. Still, with Fritz''s high Perception, he could make out the man''s words.

    "You''ll be doing a few odd jobs for me. I''ll be shadowing you for tonight, but you only need to get them done by the end of the week."

    "What kind of jobs?" Fritz asked warily. He wasn''t about to do murder on Craig''s whim.

    "Nothin'' too hard. A burglary or two, some stalkin'' and sneakin'' and I''ll need you to pick a pocket," he replied. "And while I''m with you I''ll teach you a few tricks of the trade."

    "Like what you did to circumvent the wards?" Fritz asked.

    "Uh-huh. We''ll start on that once your done with the first trials," he said, turning a corner. The man then stopped and pointed at a small shopfront. "That hattery should do."

    "Need anything in particular?"

    "Not really, just need to see you get in and out without a fuss."

    Fritz nodded and cloaked himself in dusk. The man''s eyes narrowed as if he didn''t like the look of the Ability or found something wrong with it. Ignoring the man''s disdain, Fritz looked up and down the lane only to spot a trio of drizzlers slowly patrolling. They weren''t close and were walking away at the moment, so he took his time sneaking to the hattery''s door.

    Fritz pushed down the worry that was building in his chest. The last time he had been out burglarising he''d been caught, and only his charming tongue and Colette''s kindness had saved him from the pillories or the dungeons. Thankfully, he made it under the awnings without being seen or heard in the nearly empty streets.

    When he reached the hattery''s entrance, he pulsed his Awareness twice. First lacing it with Door Sense, secondly with his Trap sense. Both came back with little more to tell him than that this was an ordinary locked door, with no alarms or hazards, save perhaps the bell that would ring if he opened it fully. Swiftly Fritz picked the lock with his fishbone picks, puled on the door''s handle and pushed it ajar, making sure to grab the small bell above the door and still it before it could make a sound.

    Then he slid inside, picked a hat off a shelf and slipped out, making his silent way back to Craig. It was easy, not worth his time or the sleep he could be having. He stifled a grumble, stepping over a puddle that he knew was deeper than it looked.

    When Fritz offered up what turned out to be a lacy bonnet, the man nodded in acknowledgement.

    "Now go put that on one of those drizzler''s cretinous skulls. Without gettin'' caught, mind you," he ordered. "If you do get caught, run. And I''ll meet you in the drowned district."

    Fritz almost sighed, Craig expected him to fail, he could tell by the man''s smirk.

    "Get to it, we may have plenty of dark left. But I''d like to get a drink and a tumble in by the end of the night, rather than watching you," he added, waving Fritz away.

    Within moments, Fritz was under the awnings again, cautiously following the trio of drizzlers he''d seen earlier. He considered his approach. His Dusksong was half full at best and despite the remedies he''d imbibed, he was still dead tired from the day''s training.

    With a stifled yawn, he settled on something simple. A distraction, then a simple bit of sleight of hand. He''d just have to hope his target wouldn''t be one of the Guards with Awareness, or something like Hat Sense for that matter. He shook away the tired thought.

    He crept forward, and as the drizzler leading the two others stepped into a puddle, Fritz shifted the stone beneath that foot, twice. The man lurched and cursed as his leg plunged into the hole all the way up to the knee.

    The Stone Pit Ability had drained Fritz, but he was able to stop from stumbling or slipping as he slunk forward further. As the other two stared on and tried to suppress the chuckles at their fellow''s misfortune, he slipped behind the one who was wearing a skullcap.

    In one smooth motion he gently, Gracefully, slipped the loose bonnet onto the man''s head then snuck backwards carefully. Darting silently into the arch of a doorway and hiding himself in its shadow.

    "What are you laughin'' at," the guard groused as he pulled his foot from the puddle.

    "Not laughin''," one said.

    "Why are you wearing a bonnet?"

    "What?" The bonnet bearer asked, before reaching up and clutching the soft fabric and lace over his skullcap. "Who did this!?" He asked before turning and glaring out at the empty street.

    When no one was apparent he turned on his compatriots. "Was it you!? Do you envy my helmet!?"

    "Of course not, it looks stupid," one argued.

    "Yeah, the bonnet suits you better," the other jeered. "Goes with your face."

    Soon the trio descended into blame and berating, and almost came to blows as they bickered.

    Fritz slipped away, unseen and unheard, a sly smile on his face.

    A job well done.

 Arc 3 - Chapter 18

    Fritz made his way to the alley mouth where Craig still lurked. The rain was heavy and the drizzlers he had escaped had moved away, so he didn''t bother too much with stealth. He thought his performance had been good, having not alerted the storm guard to his presence or drawn any attention his way, however, Craig did not look pleased.

    The dark-haired man spun a dark, stone dagger in one hand, frowning. It was a sign of deep annoyance, the prickly halo of dark motes around the man''s head said as much.

    "Reckless and rushed," he spat. "Rash beyond any reason to be."

    Fritz had heard all kinds of criticism and more from Adam earlier, so the words barely even registered to him as aspersions.

    "I thought you said you wanted a drink and something more by the end of the night," Fritz said. "I was merely being conscious of your time."

    Craig scowled. "And if you got caught? You''d waste more of my time that way."

    "I wasn''t. They didn''t see a thing," Fritz boasted.

    "Only ''cause you were lucky," Craig argued. "What if that hattery were warded? Or any of those idiot drizzlers had Awareness or some Senses?"

    "I could tell through my own Senses that the door was safe. As for the drizzlers, would you have preferred I stalked them for the entire night? Watching for the perfect opportunity?"

    "No, I would not have ''preferred'' it. But it would have been the smart thing for you to do," Craig stated.

    "Then why hurry me along?" Fritz asked, hiding most of his exasperation.

    "What? I did nothing of the sort,"the man protested.

    "You said you didn''t want to watch me all night," Fritz countered.

    "That''s right, I don''t. But I would have," Craig said.

    "I feel I''m missing something here," Fritz said.

    "Missing a lot," Craig agreed.

    "Then why say something like that if not to rush me?"

    "I said what I said because it was the truth. I don''t want to watch you. But the Nightshark says, look over the new boy, so I do. You will learn this soon, but I may as well tell you now, that wants and feelings have no bearing on the jobs you are given. Get it done as quietly as you can, no matter how much you might enjoy otherwise. The rewards are better that way too," Craig said his eyes gleaming as he remembered past pleasures.

    "Enjoy? Rewards?" Fritz asked.

    "The harem, boy. Once you get a taste of it you''ll understand," he said chuckling. "But not all jobs are of the boring sort, like watching you. Sometimes the Nightshark needs to make a point, needs me to sort some idiots out and that''s where some true fun can be had. Those fools can think they''re so tough, they can think they can run these streets and alleys. A few of them even foolishly think they can save the gutters. Then me and my knives teach them the truth, painfully if I can help it. Those ''good'' few learn the lesson the hardest. And their terror is the best to behold."

    Fritz''s stomach turned at the man''s thin ramblings, he was disgusted by the cruelty and the glee he so openly displayed. Something about his face must have given him away because the man''s smirk curled into a scowl.

    "Got a problem with me or somethin''?" He asked. "You lookin'' to be one of them ''good'' ones?"

    "No, of course not," Fritz lied. "I was just wondering about the harem. I was brought through it before. When will I get to go again?" He asked as if eager.

    The man nodded, pleased with Fritz''s answer and subsequent question.

    "Once you''re done with your jobs you will get an invitation," Craig said surely.

    "Wonderful," Fritz said. "Do I get to pick and choose my...reward?"

    "Ah, one of ''em already caught your eye, huh?" Craig chuckled. "It''s not so simple as pickin'' and choosin''. They have to agree to entertain you. But with a face like yours, I doubt you''d have many refusals."

    Fritz nodded. "And what jobs do I still need to complete?"

    "Let''s get out of the street first. Talk somewhere more quiet like," Craig said, turning and striding down into the alley.

    Fritz followed.

    When they were halfway down the man turned again to face him.

    "Here''s fine," he said. "Your next task is to sneak into an estate and destroy a certain item."

    "Estate? Where? In the Palace Ring?" Fritz asked.

    "Up here in the Upper Ring," the man elaborated.

    "Who''s and where?" Fritz asked, knowing that inquiring as to the why would simply be met with no answer save a ''you don''t need to know, just do it''.

    "Baron Coldwind. His estate is on the western side of the city and you''re to break a bust of his father," the man explained.

    "When should it be done? Now?"

    "No, not ''now''," he mocked. "Do it only when you''re sure you can get it done without getting caught."

    "Anything else?"

    "There are some debts that need to be collected, and some warnings that need to be given," Craig said. "Seems you''re the talkative sort, so that should be right up your alley. Unfortunately, there ain''t no one that we need you to kill right now."

    "I see," Fritz said, dismayed that his precious time would be wasted on running these petty criminal errands. Though he was glad he wasn''t being sent to murder either.

    "Don''t worry, you''ll get your chance to cut some throats," the man said, mistaking the cause for Fritz''s trepidation. "There''s always someone that''ll need killin''. Here''s hoping it''s that upstart Sid. Murdered two of my crew he did. And I can''t wait for him to get his."

    Fritz frowned for only a moment but Craig caught in and smirked cruelly.

    "Oh, right, you''re his mate, aren''t you? Or is it somethin'' more than that?" Craig made an obscene gesture with his hands and he laughed.

    Fritz''s frown deepened further.

    "I''m almost jealous. That''s a pretty lad alright," the man continued. "Maybe too pretty. But that won''t last if he keeps pissing off the Nightshark. I wonder what his screams will sound like. But I suppose you''d know, huh?"

    Fritz held his tongue and the man shook his head. "You''re no fun."

    "I''m not here to have fun, I''m here to serve the Nightshark," Fritz said despite his clenched jaw.

    "Fine. Here''s a list of the debtors and what they owe. Get it done in a week."

    Fritz nodded taking the sheaf of damp, crumpled paper from Craig''s hand.

    "Anything else?" Fritz asked, wanting to be away from the man as soon as possible.

    "I''m meant to teach you a few tricks of the trade," Craig said. "But that can wait for another night. After you''ve cased the baron''s estate."

    Fritz nodded.

    "Alright then. You passed the first test, barely. So now for the next one," Craig said. "Since I didn''t get to see you scamper away we''ll have to go down to the districts and do a bit of roof running."

    "Why?"

    "''Cause I got to see if you got the balance and speed to escape if things go wrong," Craig said.

    Fritz sighed.

    "Hey, don''t go sighing on me. How do you think I feel? I could have had a hand filled with a bottle and my arms around two stout lasses, rather than having to test you," Craig groused. He had drawn his dagger and tapped its flat on Fritz''s chest, punctuating his point.

    Craig was trying to stoke his fear, goading him to respond. Fritz did his best to ignore the sharp edge so close to his skin, even as it prickled. Craig looked down to the black blade, chuckled and said, "Whoops, bad habit," before sheathing it.

    The man was pretending it was an accident rather than his intentional malevolence, so Fritz played along, even if he knew better.

    "No harm," Fritz said smiling blandly. "If you had made a mistake it would have gone right through my body anyway. That dagger poses little peril to me."

    Those words caused the man''s face to twitch minutely and his hand to spasm slightly. For a split second, there was a stinging line of pain right over the left side of Fritz''s neck and he leapt back.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Craig didn''t move a muscle, but his eyes twinkled maliciously. Somehow he had tricked Fritz''s Danger Sense. It must be that the man had experience with the Passive, or some similar variant, and knew how it worked. The realisation sent a shiver down Fritz''s spine.

    "I wouldn''t be so sure if I were you," Craig said dangerously. "You know very little of murder and it shows. I could kill you in a heartbeat. Only the Nightshark''s order keeps you safe. If I had my way you''d be dead. I argued, you know, that your Door Sense wasn''t worth the man that came with it."

    "I am flattered you feel so strongly," Fritz said unflappably. In a casual gesture, he laid his hand upon Quicksilver''s pommel and he was glad the rain hid the bead of sweat rolling down his face.

    "Don''t be," Craig replied, mimicking his movement.

    They stared at each other for another three moments.

    "Let''s get going, shall we?" Fritz asked. "Those stout lasses must be missing you terribly and I''d hate to hold you here."

    "Right," Craig said. "This way. I''ve got just the route for you."

    The man turned his back and led the way into the dark.

    ---

    Fritz panted as he ran along roofs and rafters. Slick tiles, wooden beams and stone walls flew under his feet as he attempted to keep pace with the shadowy figure ahead. Occasionally his foot would slip, but his Grace would save him from a potentially deadly fall. Though that wasn''t the greatest boon his Powers allowed him, that honour was granted to Trap Sense. It was miraculous, allowing him to notice loose tiles or rotten wood before he tread upon the treacherous footholds and found himself tripping and tumbling to a cobblestone doom.

    More and more, Craig tried to widen the gap between them, and Fritz struggled to keep up on his already overworked limbs. Eventually, through weariness rather than inattentiveness, his feet slid from under him and he plummeted from a rooftop into an overflowing gutter. Thankfully he was able to climb out onto the bumpy street and wasn''t swept away, but his clothes were soaked with the filthy water, and he stank.

    Grumbling, Fritz searched the roofs around him, looking for the dark shape of Craig. He felt a tap on his shoulder and lurched around to see the smirking face of the Browncoat.

    "Not much of a genius are you?" He chuckled.

    "I never said I was," Fritz grumbled through wheezing breaths. He felt his head spin and his legs tremble.

    "You failed the test," Craig said with pleasure. The man basked in some cruel delight, seemingly satisfying some one-sided grudge.

    "What does that mean?" Fritz asked.

    "It means you do it again tomorrow night. Then again the night after. Then again," Craig gloated. "We''re gonna work on that pathetic stamina of yours."

    "How long will this go on?"

    "Until I''m satisfied or The Nightshark deems you a waste."

    Fritz nodded, he was too tired to speak.

    "Right. Be there tomorrow at midnight," Craig said, pointing to a tall building with dagger in hand.

    Then the man was cloaked in shadow and faded away into the dark. Fritz idly wondered if his own Trait appeared the same to others and began to trudge home. The whole night had been frustrating and had felt like a waste of his increasingly impugned time. He assuaged his annoyance with the pragmatic notions that told him this was still the best outcome for some one in his position.

    From the corner of his eye, Fritz spotted a rat, it had been following him for some blocks. Its tiny limbs were a flurry of movement as it tried to keep up with his long strides. He wanted to draw Quicksilver and skewer the beast, but stopped himself. Antagonising The Nightshark wouldn''t go well for him, or those he cared about. He kept walking.

    The drizzlers sneered at him as he passed through the sunken Ring''s gates. They might have given him trouble if not for his signet ring, though one did suggest he may have stolen it. Fritz''s glare had caused the guard to step back, maybe something of his nobility or deeply-clutched fury had shined through, putting a weight of fear on the man.

    When Fritz arrived home he stripped himself in the hall and threw his ruined clothes in the laundry basket with his befouled rain towel. He didn''t bother with a shower and collapsed into bed. He felt that his eyes had barely closed for a moment before there was a ring of a bell and a banging on his door.

    Fritz groaned and he struggled to leave his now stained sheets. In a bleary haze, he wrapped himself in a towel, grabbed some spare clothes and made his way to the showers. The stairway was abuzz with action as the team prepared themselves for the likely gruelling day ahead. At the base of the stairs, he passed by a wide-eyed maid and tried to smile. She blushed furiously and turned away, busying herself with some other immediately important task.

    "What happened to you?" Bert asked as he bounded down the stairs.

    "Craig," Fritz said in way of explanation.

    "Oh, rough was it?" Bert asked.

    "Very," Fritz yawned. "I don''t think I''ve ever felt so tired, save maybe after those slippery sharks. I hope that Sir Needle''s training is more gentle today, though it''s not likely, is it?"

    "Not likely at all," Bert commiserated patting his brother on the back.

    "Fritz, you look terrible," Lauren noted, as she left the bathroom in clean robes, then strode up the stairs.

    "Yeah, really bad," Rosie said.

    George nodded, agreeing silently as he also made his way to the showers.

    "Thank you," Fritz said.

    Soon he was showered and was truly clean. He joined the team in the dining room, they ate in quiet anticipation, not all of it excitement. When they had finished their breakfast of redroast sausages, rations and a side of fried fish, they gathered in the lounge and waited.

    The sounds of dawn came in full and the door rattled when Sir Needle came knocking.

    Cassandra was there to greet him and led him to the lounge.

    The mountain of a man had a satchel hanging on one hip and looked each of them over, deciding which of them he''d pick to tutor first.

    It came as little surprise when he said, "Lord Hightide, I''ll start with you."

    "Yes, sir," Fritz said standing gingerly, then yawning.

    "Too early for you, milord? Should I have the maid fetch you a palanquin?" Adam asked.

    "Do we have one? That would be marvellous," Fritz said, only mostly putting on airs. He''d taken another round of Stamina remedies and they were already lifting his fatigue.

    Adam glared.

    "Sorry, Sir," Fritz said. "To the yard?"

    "No, I want to ask some questions so I can fine-tune your regimen, this room should suffice," Adam said. "I want the rest of you to do three laps, then wait in the dining room. I''ll get to each of you in turn."

    The team nodded and set out.

    Adam sat across from Fritz, opening his satchel and pulling forth a quill and some ink and paper. He arrayed and glanced down at three particular pages. They were already written on, lined with copious neat notes.

    "What''s all that for?" Fritz wondered aloud. Though he could read his own name at the top of one of the pieces of paper.

    "Just some observations I''ve made about you and your team, and some thoughts on what you can do to improve. Thing''s like ideal Techniques, Treasures or training" Adam said. "Now, I''m going to ask you some questions. You are free to not answer if the secret is too precious, but it might impede the usefulness of my advice if I don''t have the full picture of your Powers."

    "You already seem to have written a lot about me," Fritz hedged.

    The man nodded seriously.

    "These are merely guesses, but my guesses are generally good," he replied.

    Fritz nodded.

    With that, Adam began to lay out all he''d seen and deduced of Fritz''s Abilities and passives. The man''s conclusions came unerringly near the truth. So much so that Fritz was unnerved when the man listed Gloom Strike and Danger Sense as certainties.

    "You also had some kind of curse that made me tired, which is unusual. You have a stealth Trait that hides you from one''s mind rather than sight. Maybe Subtle Presence, which is rare. And the Ability to conjure an orb of sticky obscuring shadow that is surprisingly resistant to light. That would have to be your Path Ability. As for your other Powers, you didn''t feel the need to use them or perhaps you don''t have the right Magical Attribute for them," Adam claimed.

    Fritz sat there, somewhat stunned at the accuracy.

    "Got it mostly right?"

    "Mostly," Fritz agreed.

    "Did you want to reveal anything further or should we get straight on to Advanced Attributes?"

    Fritz squirmed internally, trying to decide the best course of action. There were some things he didn''t mind revealing, like Stone Pit and perhaps Trap Sense, but his Traits all seemingly carried secrets. He quickly concluded that he''d only conceal Cloak of Dusk and his Door Sense, the former because he somehow felt it should remain secret; and the latter for both their safeties. Who knew what the Guides Guild would do if they found out?

    Just how far could he trust this man? He wondered. Oddly, even through the man''s belittling and incessant insults, Fritz could tell that Adam did hold some honour and that he wouldn''t sell out his students secrets. There was also the fact that he was a Climber of the Sunken Spire, a fellow starving gutter rat if Fritz''s guesses were correct.

    Despite his early misgivings, and the fraught friendship Adam had with his father, Fritz had come to trust the man. Somewhat. So he decided to take a small risk and told the tutor of his Trap Sense, Stone Pit, Umbral Phase and the Trait he would need the most advice on: Hand of Eldritch Flame.

    Adam sucked his teeth with a small hiss when he heard the last bit. "How on Epsa did you manage to earn an offering like that?"

    "It was mostly an accident," Fritz admitted, then spun the tale of how he had brought the eerie fire into his Sanctum.

    "You''re mad! Why would you do that!?" Adam demanded, anger obvious in his tone. "Didn''t Tomas warn you against sculpting your Sanctum!? Didn''t he tell you to wait until you''re ready!? Didn''t he tell you to delay until you''re a Journeyman, when your Sanctum is more malleable?"

    "What?'' Fritz asked completely taken aback.

    "What do you mean: what?" The man said dangerously. "Answer my questions. Didn''t your father warn you not to sculpt your Sanctum?"

    "My father did nothing of the sort," Fritz said.

    "That fool!" Adman seethed, leaping out of his chair, just to pace and rant. "I can''t believe he''d do such a thing to you. It''s reckless! Cruel! It could have crippled or killed you if you made a mistake. Which you did and then somehow survived with barely a burn!? If he wasn''t already dead I''d kill him myself."

    "Wait! You misunderstand!" Fritz said angrily. "My father taught me nothing of sculpting at all. I don''t even know what that means."

    The words stopped the man in his steps, and he turned to meet Fritz''s eyes. He stood there for nine whole seconds trying to read some sort of deception.

    "So you somehow stumbled into sculpting your Sanctum? That''s insanity," Adam stated.

    "It was an accident," Fritz said. "I didn''t know what I was doing."

    Adam slumped, sighed then sat heavily back into his seat. "I''m sorry. I lost my temper there. You blindsided me." He sighed again. "Well, at least you''re not a fool, just ignorant. That can be cured."

    Fritz nodded, waiting for the explanation he knew was coming.

    "Sculpting your Sanctum is dangerous. Not only from the near certainty of burning or breaking it, which would either kill you, cripple you or leave you feeble-minded. But there are also the long-reaching after-effects. Your Sanctum is not just a reflection of you, but a part of your soul realised and made real by the Spires'' magic. When you sculpt it, you sculpt yourself. That Eldritch Flame is now a part of you. It''s evil and insane, and its bearers often leave a path of ruin in their wake."

    "Can it be undone?" Fritz asked, feeling nauseated.

    "Perhaps. It''s your soul. Adding and moving when sculpting is painful. Removal is agony. Even then, you have solidified its hold by selecting it as a Trait. At this point it''s permanent. Though there is hope, maybe it will be consumed by another Trait or maybe an Evolution will change its nature. Who can know the future or the myriad strange paths that can be walked?"

    Fritz nodded taking in the bleak news as best he could a stone settling in his stomach. The fire within roiled and mocked, taking joy in his dismay.

    Adam sighed again. "Well, there''s no use complaining now. At least it''s wildly powerful, a final gamble if you''re completely unable to hurt your foe."

    "With a bit of Control I can maybe shape it away from myself and feed it to Quicksilver," Fritz said.

    "You have Control?" Adam asked surprised. "And what this about quicksilver, is that your sword?"

    "Yes," Fritz said. Then he recounted how Quicksilver had swallowed Eldritch flame before and had spat it out on command against a horde of hounds.

    Adam nodded and he smiled as Fritz expounded on his tale. The man was slapping his knee by the end, laughing in merriment as the final stand with the Great Hound was told.

    "Well done! What a beast indeed," he exclaimed. "Did you get its seed?"

    "We did," Fritz admitted, enjoying the praise.

    "Do you still have it?"

    Fritz shook his head.

    "Ah, I suppose She would have taken it when you swam out," Adam said.

    Fritz let him believe that, not wanting to tell him how he had used it, unrefined, lest the man''s fury re-ignite. He would tell him that story later, much later.

    "Your theory about the sword may have some merit, but don''t test it yet. Not until we have a sure way to douse the Eldritch Flame. We might need some Radiant Water or Smothering Winds. I''ll see if I can procure some."

    Fritz nodded, the advice seemed prudent.

    "Now, onto Advanced Attributes. You have Control, and you have Grace and Awareness, and Nightwell from what I could see."

    "That''s right," Fritz agreed.

    "It''s too bad you don''t have Reflex or Speed, they work very well with high Perception and Awareness. More so than Grace and Control at least." Adam said. "Still, there are benefits to what you have."

    "And they are?" Fritz asked excitedly.

    "We''ll get to that. What do your base Attributes look like?"

    Fritz told him.

    "Very much a Scout," Adam observed. "A tad lop-sided, but that''s what your team is there to compensate for. You should consider increasing all your Base Attributes to fifteen. It''s a good threshold, half again as strong, quick and capable as you would be. From there you can specialise further. And if you''re looking for the High Human Strain you''ll need sixty points in each Base Attribute anyway, so starting early is no great pains."

    "High Human? Is that what you are?" Fritz asked.

    "Of course. What, did you think I was Giant-kin?"

    "Maybe," Fritz smirked. "Though I was more betting on Troll-kin."

    "Cheeky," the man said, smiling back, then his face went stricken.

    "What''s wrong?" Fritz asked.

    "Nothing. You just. You just looked an awful lot like your father for a moment there," Adam said. "He had that same sword''s edge smile. Cutting and kindly in equal capacity."

    Fritz didn''t know what to say, so he said nothing, letting the man pull himself out of his bittersweet reminiscence.

    Adam coughed and moved back to the topic of Attributes. "Your Awareness, what kind is it?"

    "Kind?" Fritz asked perplexed.

    "Maybe I should have asked this earlier. But just how much of your education have you missed?" Adam asked.

    "I was around nine years old when I was exiled from the orphanage," Fritz said.

    "Exiled? As a foundling?" He asked, both baffled and angered.

    Fritz explained the circumstances vaguely and when he had ended the man was seething again.

    "How dare they," Adam whispered, a furious light entering his eyes. "How could they do that to you?"

    "There was no one there to help, with our House as thoroughly ruined as it was. We were alone, save each other," Fritz stated.

    It was like the wind was taken out of the man''s sails, the storm of his rage easing to little more than a maudlin breeze. His hand twitched as if it wanted to reach for a bottle.

    "Right, of course. Tell me, has your whole life so far been a series of tragedies suitable only for a Tenebrian play?"

    "I wouldn''t know. I don''t tend to visit the theatre often. And I don''t know what or where Tenebria is," Fritz said.

    "It''s a city that borders the deadlands, where the Spire of Death looms, tall and terrible," Adam answered absently. "Though that''s neither here nor there. We need to keep on task. Let''s talk about Advanced Attributes and what you can do with them."

    "I''m listening."

    "Good, I have a lot to teach."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 19

    Adam straightened in his armchair and cleared his throat with a cough, preparing to give a lecture he''d likely given many times before. And although his breath stank of liquor, his words came or clear, if a little hoarse. "So first of all, we''ll talk about Advanced Attribute Variance."

    Fritz nodded, eager to learn.

    Adam continued, "Unlike the Base Attributes, which have the same effects for everyone. Advanced Attributes can present differently from person to person. Take your Awareness, what does it feel like?"

    "It''s strange," Fritz said struggling to summarise the vague impressions he sensed. All those odd motes and rippling emotions he could see emanate from people seemingly at random. "I just get insistent instinctive intuitions about things. I know when I''m being watched or followed. Or when someone means me harm."

    "Really?" Adam asked, leaning forward and seemingly surprised. "Anything else?"

    "I can sometimes see weird lights and waves around people. I think it''s emotion," Fritz said.

    "Huh," Adam said.

    "What?" Fritz asked.

    "It''s not at all like your father''s variant. And I thought you''d follow in his footsteps," Adam explained. "He always said it like there was a web of ever-shifting numbers in his head. It was all angles, odds and calculations. He had a gift for logistics, was a brilliant gambler and could plot the course of a loosed arrow to within a foot at just a glance. It was uncanny and saved my life more times than I could count."

    The man smiled as he recalled some fond memories, flitting light danced around his head for a moment.

    "Oh," Fritz said, feeling a strange sting, and feeling that he''d somehow failed. His Awareness was nothing like that and seemed far less useful in comparison.

    Adam noticed his tone and frowned slightly.

    "That''s not to say that yours sounds any worse."

    Fritz smiled wanly, thinking the statement a mere platitude.

    "All kinds of Awareness are capable of similar feats, they just achieve them in differing ways," Adam elaborated. "Yours seems to be of the more... poetic sort. You likely got that from your indolent mother."

    Adam winced as he remembered who he was insulting was dead and murdered, but he continued to speak anyway, trying to hammer home his point before Fritz could protest. "A vague feeling here and there may be more valuable than being able to read ''probabilities'' and ''trajectories'' as he called them. The right warning at the right moment can save a life after all. And that bit about seeing emotion, well, you could become a truth finder with such a variant."

    Fritz nodded, though he still thought he may have received a less useful version.

    "Can it be changed?" he asked, though he had little hope of that.

    Adam shook his head. "Like your Sanctum it''s a part of who you are, but more fixed in its expression. Although Advanced Attributes can''t be shaped, there are ways to manipulate the ''energies'' in specific Patterns to achieve some interesting effects. But again, that varies from Attribute to Attribute and person to person."

    "I think I''ve stumbled across that too," Fritz said, trying not to sound too smug.

    "Oh? I shouldn''t be surprised. Yet I still am," Adam said. "What do you do?"

    "I send my Awareness out in a wave. Like a ripple on a pond''s surface."

    "An interesting application. Unfortunately, I don''t know much about Awareness; just what your father let slip. And as you well know, the Guides are very secretive."

    "Something of an understatement," Fritz said.

    Adam nodded.

    "However, the next of your Advanced Attributes, Grace, is something I''m an expert in," the man boasted. "In my studies, I have learned practices for all the variants, not just the one I possess."

    "Wonderful," Fritz said meaning it. "How do we find out which one I have?"

    "Close your eyes," Adam instructed.

    Fritz obeyed.

    "Focus on your body. Concentrate on the slippery energy that runs over your muscles, skin and bones."

    Fritz listened, turning his focus inward.

    "It''s in every part of your being. Every bit of you is connected. From toes to fingers, from spine to sternum. What does it feel like?"

    Fritz fell into himself and felt for that energy. It was as Adam said, his whole body was one, flexing one finger he could feel the invisible strings again. If he wanted he could puppet himself like a marionette, only far more precisely.

    "Strings, pulling me, this way and that," Fritz said.

    "Anything else?" Adam asked with the barest note of disappointment.

    There was something else, something deeper, the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breath. A music that wasn''t just in his body and bones. It stood apart from the sorrowful song that hummed in his chest, it was more... delighting, and it asked him to dance to its fluid tune. To step in perfect time to its proper pounding drum.

    "A rhythm, a beat, and more," Fritz said.

    "Good! Great!" Adam declared.

    The startling volume of the man forced Fritz to lose his focus and he opened his eyes to stare at his grinning face.

    "Great?" Fritz asked.

    Adam coughed, suppressing his excitement and relaxing back into his armchair.

    "You have both Dancers and Puppeteer''s Grace," Adam said, a hint of envy in his voice. "You lucky bastard."

    "I take it that it''s something of a rare gift?" Fritz asked.

    "Correct, those two Graces lie on each end of the spectrum," Adam said.

    "Spectrum?"

    "The variances within the individual Advanced Attributes generally lie on a range from intuitive to intellectual. This scale is also known by multiple names and is featured heavily in many theories, each different in their view on the world and magic. These spectra generally follow a theme of: unreal to real, immaterial to material, internal to external, unconscious to conscious," Adam explained, his eyes far away as if he were reading a page in his mind. "They''re useful in categorising different variances and there''s a lot of overlap so they can be used mostly interchangeably."

    "I''m not sure I understand," Fritz said, trying to think through what was just recited to him.

    "We have the example of your Awareness and your father''s," Adam said. "His was a conscious calculation while yours is an instinctive assessment. His was more intellectual or ''real'', focused on the external world; and yours is more intuitive or ''unreal'', centred internally."

    Fritz nodded, seeing the distinction. "So Dancer''s Grace is on the intuitive end and the Puppeteer''s is on the intellectual end?"

    "Correct," Adam said, smiling.

    "And there are benefits to each kind?"

    "Most definitely. Dancer''s Grace is all about timing, the right motion in the right place at the right moment. You listen to the rhythm of the world and dance to its tune with your body as a whole. Whereas the Puppeteer''s Grace is all minute movements and precise control of your individual parts, separate and specialised. Having both will be a great boon, each lending their own strengths while smoothing out their respective weaknesses. Though you will have to train hard to have them work together properly."

    "I see. So they don''t just synergise on their own?" Fritz asked.

    "No, indeed," Adam said. "In fact, they will clash. But we can work on that when we come to it. First, you have to be able to reflexively use the right Patterns. Like your Awareness uh... ripple."

    "Pulse," Fritz provided.

    "Like your Awareness ''pulse'', you can weave and manipulate Grace''s magic to grant more than its passive benefits would."

    "Is this true of all Advanced Attributes?" Fritz asked.

    "Yes, to a lesser or greater extent, depending on the Attribute in question," Adam said. "Magic Attributes are similar too, though their variance is less pronounced."

    "Right," Fritz said, pondering on the new revelations. "Is it common to have more than one kind?"

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    "Not when you first unlock it. That''s rare," Adam said. "You may be able to find more variants if you unlock an Advanced Attribute multiple times. But that''s also an uncommon occurrence."

    Fritz nodded. "Which Grace do you have?"

    "Guess," the man said, flexing a massively muscled arm.

    "Dancer''s," Fritz said. "It was in how you moved."

    Adam smiled. "You saw that did you?"

    "I did," Fritz said.

    "It''s one of the more common variances. But all the more potent for it, as it has been studied and trained more due to its prevalence. Remember rarer doesn''t necessarily mean better," the man espoused. "Most of the time the common Abilities, Attributes and Traits are just as powerful and more versatile. Their main weakness is that they''re well known and their limits are extensively researched."

    "I see," Fritz said, suspecting this was a lecture the man gave all the time when someone was disappointed in their chosen Powers.

    "Anyway, we should be moving on. Nightwell?" Adam clarified.

    "Yes," Fritz said, nodding.

    "I''m not a dedicated mage, so I haven''t much expertise in magic," Adam said. "I have a couple of mental exercises for Magical Attributes, but they''re fairly generic or meant for the Essences of Water or Air. Still, we can try them with Nightwell or you can ask around your ''contacts'' for any shadow specialists."

    Fritz nodded, catching the man''s meaningful glance to where the black fang was, just under his shirt.

    "Lastly you had Control?"

    "Right."

    "And you have little idea what it does?" Adam asked wryly.

    "Right," Fritz said, then thought on his experiences with the Attribute.

    "Anything you''ve noticed at least?"

    "Apart from forcing my mind to stop fearing or breaking out of mental magics. Or using it to shape my shadows, I''m not quite sure what it does," Fritz admitted.

    After nodding seriously, Adam started to speak.

    "Control is different to Grace or Awareness, it doesn''t have much variance. Like Might it enhances, and blends with, other Attributes, specifically Magical ones. It''s much sought after in its use in shaping Sanctums, Abilities and Attribute patterns. These things can all be done without Control, but it helps a lot at the beginning of a Climber''s Ascension through the Spires. Some view it as a crutch, others a necessary foundation for growing one''s skill. Either way, it''s powerful in the right hands."

    "And what do you think? About Control."

    "I think you''re a lucky prick," Adam said. "If your whole life up to this point wasn''t one bloody miserable mishap after another I might think you blessed by the Goddess Alestria. As it stands I think somehow you offended a faerie and are thrice cursed."

    The man had said it as a joke, but it sent a shiver down Fritz''s spine all the same.

    "Nonsense," Fritz decried. "Faeries haven''t been seen for hundreds of years."

    Adam looked at him quizzically. "Faeries aren''t real, you mean."

    "Well, I wouldn''t go that far," Fritz said. "Maybe they''re just in hiding."

    Adam snorted. "You got that from your mother too, she was a believer in faeries. When she had a few too many glasses of wine, she always said they were planning a return. Or was it a rebellion? She was a foolish, frivolous woman."

    A stab of black fury pierced Fritz at this most recent slight, but he reigned his anger in. He couldn''t give into to rage and tell the man to leave and never come back, as he wanted in that moment. He needed Adam''s knowledge, he knew that more keenly now. They''d only been speaking for minutes and he already discovered more than in his frustrating, fruitless hours of searching the Archives.

    "That''s the third time you''ve besmirched her to me," Fritz said, low and deadly. "You would do well to stop. A fourth time would go amiss."

    Adam grimaced, but nodded once, some regret etched into the creases of his forehead.

    "Techniques, do you have any?" He asked, changing the subject.

    "I have two," Fritz said. "One''s for skirmishing and the other is a madman''s brawling style."

    "Hmm. You found some Techniques and learned them whether they were good for you or not, deciding that you needed every advantage you could get?" Adam guessed.

    "That''s right."

    "What are their names?" He asked with some interest.

    "One is listed as ''The Observations'' and the other is the Arte Pugilist," Fritz said, not feeling the need to hide such knowledge, though also not giving out their full titles.

    "Hmm," The man hummed thoughtfully. "''The Observations'' sounds familiar, but I can''t quite place it. However, the Arte Pugilist is known to me."

    "Oh?" Fritz asked, mildly interested in the history of the Technique.

    "Yes, there was a brotherhood of monks that studied pugilism. I believe their monastery was in the vast, broken plains and canyons of the Screaming Expanse. That''s where Squall Spire resides, in one of those deep crevices that mar the stone. The wind blows strong in those canyons and they carved their temple into the rock''s face. From what I know they were heretics that eschewed the practices of the, far more sensible and well-regarded, styles that were based upon mixing the more commonly offered Air Abilities with martial arts. Some say that they had a hidden Spire, within the tunnels of the temple where they lived and trained."

    "Huh," Fritz said.

    "The brotherhood of Escantor and their teachings were ''lost'' in an avalanche, and the Spire was never found," Adam said.

    "You say lost as if you doubt it was an accident," Fritz said.

    "They had enemies among the already established order. Many saw the refining of their Technique as a defiance of the Air Spirits they worship. Spitting in the face of their own orthodox monks and ''exalted'' priesthood. Which, considering the rumours about the Technique, they likely were. The history of Epsa is rife with hundreds of such stories. What''s with that face?"

    Fritz had been looking at the man with some scepticism and replied, "I''m just surprised you''ve not only heard of the Arte Pugilist, but also know of their history. That can''t be common knowledge."

    "Think of who you''re speaking to," Adam chided smugly. "Despite my humble beginnings and modest manner, I''m both well-read and far travelled. I''ve studied more books, heard more rumours and listened to more tales than you can even imagine."

    Fritz bristled, the boasting was too much.

    "I thought you were a drunk who''s been drifting from one tavern to another for nearly a decade," he argued.

    "A man can be more than one thing, in fact, it is his duty, to himself, that he is," Adam stated, it had the air of a quote, but Fritz had never heard it. "Actually, weren''t you the one who told me that, Tomas?"

    The man glanced over to Fritz mischievously, then his smile fell away in a moment. He covered his eyes and pulled his hand down his face. He shook his head to clear it.

    "My apologies," Adam said. "Got lost between the past and present. Memory is a potent thing. We were talking about Techniques. You need to learn another, one for weapons or for scouting."

    "I''m trying to remember my father''s sword Technique, I feel like I''m close," Fritz said.

    Adam shook his head. "You''re a Scout, learn something like the bow, or crossbow if you''re lazy. Abyss, throwing weapons would be better than the use of a sword."

    "My father was a Guide and he used a sword," Fritz protested.

    "While Guides are expected to fight even less than your average Scout, they are required at least one weapon Technique. One to fight humans rather than monsters," Adam said.

    "Why?"

    "A dead Guide doesn''t need to be paid."

    "Oh," Fritz said, catching the meaning.

    Turning on a Guide was a dangerous proposition, what with the risk of failure. If the Guide escaped, which they were likely to, the whole might of the Guides Guild would come crashing down on your team. But there could be enough wealth or Treasures to make the proposition worth it. And if your claim was that the Guide failed your team then you might be able to seize some further compensation. It could tempt some idiots.

    "You won''t have to worry about that. If you''re smart you will only climb with teammates you trust, rather than those that just pay you," Adam said. "Find something better against beasts. Or something for stealth."

    "I''d still like to learn my father''s Technique," Fritz insisted.

    "I''d advise against it."

    Fritz stared at the man for some long moments. He sighed.

    "Fine. Just know that my official recommendation is that you learn something different. And I won''t help you learn the Inevitable Blade," Adam said.

    "Is that what it''s called?" Fritz asked.

    "You didn''t even know that much?" Adam asked disparagingly. "Not a great start. Honestly, if you even get a bastardised version of it I''d be surprised. Especially from what you''ve shown me so far."

    Fritz held in his temper, but let a little heat spill into his voice. "Do you have a bastard version? Were you not good enough to learn the real thing? Is that why you won''t teach me?" He goaded.

    Adam scowled. "I may only be a Journeyman in the Technique, but know the Inevitable Blade. I won''t teach you because... because, I just won''t."

    The man wouldn''t meet Fritz''s gaze, it was cowardly and he wouldn''t even give an honest reason. Anger boiled in Fritz''s chest.

    How dare he deny him the Technique, one of the only things his father had left him?

    Fritz was about to order him to look him in the eyes, but thought better of it. He could learn it on his own, could show this drunk that he could find the Technique himself. He was close to it, and he would display his skill at the end of his blade if he had to.

    "Can you at least teach me how to forget the Arte Pugilist?" He asked.

    "I can do that. In fact I''d recommend that too. It''s usually easiest to replace a Technique with something similar. But as you don''t want any melee styles at all, you''ve got the right of trying to forget it. I''m sure I can beat it out of you, did you want to start the process right away?"

    ''How long will it take?"

    "A week, a month, depends on how ingrained it is." Adam shrugged.

    "As soon as possible," Fritz decided. Although he knew that he had earned some time, he still felt he didn''t have enough, not for all he needed to achieve.

    "And lastly, Awards," Adam said. "Are you allowed to speak on them?"

    "The team has voted in favour of revealing the Mer Spire Awards, as for the other Awards," Fritz began.

    "NO," Adam warned quickly. "Don''t talk about the others."

    "Right," Fritz said, realising that must be one of the things that would make the fang mark activate. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, how close had he been to accidentally killing himself with a simple word?

    "And what did you lot get from the Mer Spire?" Adam prodded.

    Fritz wiped the sweat away, and said, "Swift Swim, Deep Water Acclimation, Tenacious Heat."

    "The first two are fairly common. But Tenacious Heat, I haven''t heard of that being given by the Mer Spire," Adam said. "Weird. You must have found a hidden door or something equally strange to get given that. We''ll have to talk more on Awards, Seeds and Power Evolution and Ascension strategies later. For now we''re just about done here."

    Fritz nodded.

    "Right," Adam said. He began writing on the paper in front of him. "Well, I think I know what your regimen will look like. You can send in the next of your team and do twelve laps around the yard."

    "As for laps," Fritz said, standing on wobbly legs. "I think I''ll sit those out. I was up all night roof running."

    Adam shook his head. "No, it''s important that you''re seen doing them. Don''t want to seed resentment out here only for it to bloom in a Spire. A Captain should share the suffering of his team. It builds respect and loyalty."

    Fritz sighed, the man was right.

    Adam pulled a ring off his finger and flicked it to Fritz. He caught in in one smooth motion.

    "What''s this?"

    "It''s a ring of Suppress Pain," Adam said. "Keep it, but don''t rely on it."

    "Why?"

    "It''ll numb your body, you could suffer an injury and not notice. You could over-train, potentially causing lasting damage. Or you could misjudge the deadliness of a wound, moving about when you shouldn''t," Adam explained. "Also it''s a crutch. But for a couple of laps, it''ll be okay."

    Fritz nodded, slipping the carved, wooden ring onto his finger. It smelled bitter, like a medicinal tonic. He activated it and felt his tension and aches fall away. He still felt tired and stiff, but the pain was gone, just as the name suggested.

    He sighed with relief.

    "Good isn''t it?" Adam said. "If only it worked on hangovers."

    "It doesn''t?"

    "No, it has no effect against poison. Now get out of here, you have some laps to run."

    Fritz nodded, left the lounge and went to fetch Bert. He was sat around the dining table with the rest of the team who sat in an apprehensive quiet.

    "How did it go?" Cal asked.

    "Well enough. It seems Sir Needle is very knowledgeable if still a prick of the highest order. Bert you''re next. I have some laps to run," Fritz said.

    His brother grinned, stood, strode over and slapped him on the back, before leaving him behind eager to receive his own advice.

    Fritz smiled, then headed to the yard and started running.

    ---

    Bert strode into the lounge, Dale secreted under his wet shirt. The snails slimy warmth was a comfort.

    Adam looked up from some papers on the tea table.

    "Sir Needle," Bert greeted politely, sitting across from the man.

    "What''s that under your shirt?" The man demanded.

    Bert grinned.

    "Stop grinning like a feeble fisherman who caught a mermaid, and answer me," Adam said.

    "Oh, it''s nothing much. Just a beast I bonded," Bert boasted modestly.

    "A beastbond?" Adam asked, frowning. "And how did you manage that?"

    "Would you believe a faerie gave me the power?" Bert asked, knowing full well he wouldn''t.

    "Faeries again. Has Lord Hightide infected you with his frivolous notions?" Adam bemoaned.

    "Must have," Bert said.

    "Getting offered a beastbond would have have been something else, maybe a Spire with a chaotic bent," Adam said knowingly.

    "I don''t know anything about that," Bert said seriously.

    "Good," Adam said. "Still, this is a rare power. What did you bond?"

    Bert grinned again, then plucked Dale from his chest with a small pop. He held his wonderful, currently withdrawn, companion and displayed the smooth ridges of his quartz shell.

    "That''s a rock," Adam said with heavy disappointment. "Are you an idiot? Nevermind, don''t answer. Stop messing around."

    Bert tapped on the shell, and soon the sleeping beast within unfurled. It''s red, slick tentacles and eye-stalks waving around as he let out a gurgling whistle.

    Adam''s eyes went wide. "That''s an odd beast. What does it do? It can''t be as harmless as it looks, unless you are a complete fool."

    Bert was about to begin boasting of his beautiful beast, but the man held up a hand forestalling him.

    "Wait, we should really begin with your own Powers before we go into your beast. You''re a Defender, some kind of Vitality-based brawler?"

    "That''s right, and that''s not all," Bert said. "I can spray acid."

    "That was you?" Adam groused. "That stuff stung like¡­"

    "Like acid," Bert said sagely.

    The man''s face twitched as he suppressed a smile.

    "Not bad, what else have you got?"

    Bert grinned and puffed out his chest, preparing to impress the man.

    "A lot more than that."

 Arc 3 - Chapter 20

    Bert grinned and sat back in his chair, and with the small exception of his Dawn''s Bond, he began to lay out his Powers in full. The fire crackled and Adam nodded with appreciation as each Ability and Passive was revealed. He didn''t seem happy that Bert had neglected the metal side of his Attributes, but he didn''t hurl any insults his way so it must not have surprised him.

    "A solid set of powers, and some beneficial Techniques," Adam said, once Bert was done. "You must be bloody hard to put down. I''ll have to stop pulling my blows."

    "That''s right. So what do I need to get stronger?" Bert asked, cutting to the point of the talk.

    "We''ll get you another Technique. Something to condition your body, one that can increase the toughness of your organs, skin and bones," Adam said.

    "Why? It all mends quickly," Bert asked. "Shouldn''t I learn another brawling style?"

    "No, splitting your focus like that this early in your training only weakens you and makes it harder to progress your main style," Adam said. "Try reaching Expert in the Arte Pugilist before adding more brawling Techniques. As for your other point, breaking your body over and over is inefficient. All that Stamina, Vital Energy and Bloodwell mana is wasted when you recover, and would be better served by a tougher physique. Reducing the strain on your reservoirs and your body."

    Bert nodded, the theory sounded correct. "What about a Beastmastery Technique?"

    "If you could find one, then sure, but you won''t find one in Rain City," Adam started with certainty.

    "Why''s that?" Bert asked.

    "''She'' has them all," Adam said

    "Oh," Bert replied. The man was talking about the Nightshark and Fritz had mentioned that Adam bore a black fang just as they did. It made sense that she''d horde all the good stuff about beasts.

    "You should also be applying your corrosive spray and your snail''s acid to yourself. Get that resistance high enough that you could fight knee-deep in the stuff," Adam said, continuing his suggestions. "We''ll also work on your physique and flexibility. I know a tumbler, they''ll teach you some acrobatics. As I want you to be able to move well when being thrown into the air or across the ground."

    "That''s a long list, anything else?" Bert asked.

    "Hmm? Well, yes, but we can get to that later," Adam said. "Let''s talk about Advanced Attributes. Close your eyes and concentrate."

    Bert followed the man''s order.

    "Can you sense your Vitality?"

    Bert looked inward, feeling at the constant dull roar of the energies that rushed through him. It was a mess of bountiful excitement, boundless eagerness and indiscriminate passions. He sorted through the sensations, finding the one he associated with Vitality. It rippled over his skin and muscles, and boiled in his blood. It wasn''t hot, just raucous.

    "I can feel it."

    "How does it feel?"

    "Bubbly, boiling, all over my body."

    "Is it thick or thin?"

    "Thick."

    "Mhm, and are those scars all over your arms recent or old?"

    "Bit of both," Bert boasted.

    "Right, onto Momentum," Adam said.

    That one was harder to feel but it was there all the same, it was like he was inside a ball made of stone. It wanted him to move, it was a boulder set to roll down a hillside. He could push at any moment and he knew it would add to his own force. He explained as much to the tutor.

    He heard the man scratching away with his quill.

    "Bloodwell?"

    Again Bert searched the energies and found the pounding power of bloodwell pulsing around his sanctum.

    "Thudding like a heartbeat," Bert said.

    "Alright, that''s the last of them, correct?"

    "Apart from my Synchronicity," Bert said.

    "The Bond Attribute, correct? Well, I know very little about that one I''m afraid. It''s rare even outside of Rain City," Adam said.

    "A shame," Bert replied.

    "Indeed, all I know is that if you align points into it your beast gets stronger. I''m not sure how it works further than that," Adam said, before clearing his throat and continuing. "So it seems like you''re a very intellectual man."

    "I''m glad someone finally noticed," Bert professed, though he didn''t exactly know what the man was talking about.

    Adam nodded and went into an explanation about Variances and Patterns that Bert mostly understood. It was something to do with the different kinds of Advanced Attributes, or how they manifested. All Bert''s own were on the more material or ''intellectual'' side.

    "Troll''s Vitality, Boulder''s Momentum and Beating Bloodwell," Adam recounted for him.

    "Is that good?"

    "It''s neither good nor bad, but certain exercises and Patterns are better for certain variants," Adam explained.

    "Right," Bert said. He didn''t know what to think, but if Fritz trusted the man to be their tutor that was good enough for him. That, and the man was clearly strong.

    "Aiming for a Strain at all?"

    "You can do that?"

    "There are certain things you can do to increase your odds, tonics and foods, certain Techniques and actions in a Spire and, of course, the necessary Attribute requirements. It''s not guaranteed, abyss, it''s not even likely. And even if you do everything right, you may still not be offered the strain you want, but a slim chance is better than no chance."

    Bert nodded, dreaming of what strange changes his body could go through. Maybe he could become a giant-kin and laud his height and size over the others. Or maybe an elf, he bet he''d look good with long pointed ears.

    "But maybe we''re getting ahead of ourselves, you''re still in Rain City and the Spires here are less than optimal to be offered anything other than Merfolk," Adam said. "Still, these are things you should be thinking about, in the long term, I mean."

    "Alright," Bert said.

    "Alright," Adam repeated, making a few more notes with his quill. "We''re all done, get me the next one and then run thirty laps."

    "That''s a lot more laps than you gave me before," Bert argued.

    "I didn''t know the extent of your recovery then. With your Powers, you can be pushed harder and for longer."

    "True as the rain," Bert agreed with a wink.

    Adam ignored the interruption. "You can carry the pack of training weapons too, now that I think of it."

    Bert grumbled a curse which caused the man to frown. "What was that?"

    "I said, yes Sir," Bert said.

    Adam smiled and waved him away.

    Bert stood, took his leave and when in the dining room peered over each of the waiting faces. Lauren was restless, tapping one slender finger on the table. George was going over his tiles, and Cal looked a little sick. Only Rosie seemed happy to see him. She grinned and he grinned back, her smile was strange, but it was appealing, much like those scales.

    He decided to spend some more time with her later in the day, if he had any stamina left after his training. If not he would just use his Amulet of Repose. He was finding the wonderful Treasure''s restorative powers incredibly useful, even if it was eating into his gold a little.

    "Rosie, you''re next," Bert said, gesturing to the door.

    ---

    Rosie walked into the lounge, it was warm.

    Sir Needle asked her to sit, so she did. He was old and his hair and beard were a bit scraggly, but he was good-looking, and he had a lot of muscles.

    The tutor asked her about her Powers and she told him all he wanted to know. He wasn''t mean about it this time, just serious.

    He sat there for a moment, thinking and scratching out words. She couldn''t quite read them, they weren''t the same as the ones in her Sanctum. These ones looked flatter and meant very little to her.

    "What are you writing?" She asked.

    "Recommendations. Some exercises, some diets and a list of the Techniques you should look for," the tutor said.

    "Oh," Rosie said. "Can''t you just tell me?"

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    "It''ll be easier this way, you''ll have a record so you won''t forget any advice," Sir Needle said.

    Rosie felt nervous, she scratched the scales just below her gills.

    "What''s wrong?" He asked.

    "I can''t read," Rosie admitted.

    Sir Needle looked up from the paper. She expected disgust, but saw only understanding, he nodded.

    "We''ll have to get a scribe in to teach you how to read and write then. It will be difficult, but having a Sanctum helps even when learning from scratch. I didn''t truly learn until after my fourth Spire, though I wish I had earlier."

    "Nah, that''s okay. I''ve gotten this far without it," Rosie said. "And I can still read the important stuff. Like Techniques and my Spire sheet."

    "No, it''s not okay," the tutor said, his voice slipping from kind to stern. "It''s an invaluable skill. Not all the world''s knowledge is stored in Techniques and sometimes the lessons of history can teach us things far more valuable."

    Rosie shuffled uncomfortably. "What if I''m too dumb?"

    "You''re not," Sir Needle said. "Like anything it''s all practise. You just have to do it."

    She could see in his eyes that he believed what he said. Her own eyes stung.

    "Better get two scribes, Cal can''t read as well and I''m not sure about George either," Rosie said.

    "I should have asked before, too used to teaching noble brats I suppose. How about Bert?" Sir Needle asked.

    "Yeah, he knows his glyphs, he''s real smart," Rosie said. "Pretends he isn''t."

    "That''s the gutters. You stand out too much for the wrong reasons and you pay for it in blood and sometimes more," Sir Needle said.

    Rosie nodded. The man was right about that, often she was thankful she was ugly when she heard about what could happen to the pretty girls or boys.

    "Still, you''ll only need the one scribe, you''ll be literate before you can say ''What does that mean?''" He said.

    "What does that mean?" Rosie asked.

    "Maybe not," the man chuckled.

    It was another joke then, but it didn''t seem to be poking fun at her so she smiled.

    "Right, so to summarise you''re a moderately mobile Durability Defender. Puncture for some offence, Piercing Shriek for taunting your foes. Interpose for saving your allies and a slew of Passives and Traits that made you and your scales tougher," Sir Needle said, reading from his list. "Now to test your Advanced Attributes, close your eyes."

    She did.

    "First let''s try your Awareness," he said. "What does it feel like? Do you see numbers in your head or do you get odd feelings?"

    All she could see in her mind was darkness, and she tried to recall getting any ''odd feelings''. There were times she felt in her gut something bad or good was going to happen and then it did. Like when she had played cards she could almost tell which hands were strong as soon as she touched the cards.

    "The second," Rosie said decisively.

    "Alright, anything else you''ve noticed with Awareness?"

    "Not really, don''t really feel it much."

    "Let''s move on to Durability then. Can you sense it?"

    "What is it meant to feel like?" Rosie asked.

    "Concentrate on your body, is there an energy, a hardness that doesn''t come from your scales. Or maybe it runs over you like a second skin."

    Rosie frowned, trying to find the hardness. Minutes passed but the man pestered her no further, simply waiting for an answer. She was getting more and more angry with herself as time went on. She knew she was too dumb for this.

    Then she felt it, a spot deep inside her that was incredibly tough. It was lower than her Sanctum but higher than her belly button, heavy as lead and hard as steel. It was connected to her entire body by an invisible power and she knew that it shared her burdens. If she suffered, it suffered. They suffered together.

    Just like her and Cal. Or her and the team.

    Even if she could feel it clearly now, she struggled to tell Sir Needle about it in good words. She probably sounded like an idiot. He didn''t chide her. In fact, he was silent and she could hear him scribbling something furiously.

    Rosie opened one eye and peered at what he was writing. It was nonsense to her and she told herself off.

    You can''t read dumb arse.

    "Interesting," the man finally said. "Last onto your Essence of Water."

    "Okay," she agreed.

    "Try and find that cool, flowing energy within you, it should be far easier to detect as it swirls around your Sanctum."

    He was right it was easy to find, but the cool energy wasn''t flowing, and it barely rippled when she tried to make it swirl as her tutor said it would.

    "It doesn''t want to move," she said.

    "Ah, Essence of Water with the Stillness variant," Sir Needle said. "Not exactly uncommon, but far less common than the Roiling Sea or Rushing River Variants."

    Rosie didn''t really know what he was talking about, but as he wasn''t explaining further it meant he''d teach her later.

    "An intuitive Awareness, Deep Durability and Essence of Water with Stillness. All in all, you''re unskilled and blunt, but hard as nails," he summarised.

    "That''s right. I''m tough. And I also got that brawling Technique," Rosie added.

    "The same one as Bert?"

    "Yeah, he taught me," Rosie said, remembering all the fun they had rolling around and wrestling. She''d have to go find him after training.

    "Anything else?"

    The words broke Rosie out of her memories.

    "Uh, I tried to learn the other one but it was too hard," Rosie admitted.

    "From what I know it wouldn''t be good for you anyway," Sir Needle said. "The Arte Pugilist isn''t exactly ideal either, you might have to replace it at some point. Also, we''ll find you something to toughen your body further, you can share that with Bert. Then another Technique for your weapons of choice. You favour dual wielding?"

    "Yes, I have a pick and an axe," Rosie said proudly.

    "I think I know a fairly common Technique for such weapons," he said nodding and noting.

    "Not gonna make me use a shield?" Rosie asked.

    "I will drill the basics of shieldwork into you, but I will leave it to you to decide what you''ll carry into battle. Though I plan to train you hard in the use of all common weapons. All of you will be proficient with the most armaments when I''m done with you."

    "Even Lauren?" Rosie asked, smiling at the thought of the stuck-up bitch all muddy and messy from the martial tutoring.

    "Yes, even her," Sir Needle said.

    She smiled wider.

    "You''ll also need armour. Heavy Armour," he added.

    "Like George''s?" Rosie asked.

    "Yes, you should commission some right away. You''ll want to be practising in it as soon as may be. For now, we''ll just have to tie weights to you," the tutor said.

    "Won''t the armour be expensive?" She asked.

    "It will be, depending on the material, but you''ll be trusting your life to it so get something decent," Sir Needle warned.

    "Okay," Rosie said, seeing the man''s point. "Is that all?"

    "Yes, run along, go get the next," Sir Needle said. "Then do twelve laps."

    "Alright," Rosie said. She turned then she stopped and added, "Thanks for being nice."

    "This is merely a reprieve. Tomorrow, when your training really begins, I''ll be crueller than the king of faeries if only half as handsome."

    "I don''t like faerie stories," Rosie said.

    "Neither do I," Sir Needle agreed.

    Rosie turned and left.

    "Cal, you''re next!" She yelled into the open door of the dining room before jogging out into the yard and joining Bert and Fritz as they ran.

    ---

    Cal was nervous, his heart felt like it was in his throat, and when Rosie called out that he was next, he nearly jumped out of his chair. He instead gulped, he didn''t want to embarrass himself in front of Lauren.

    She sighed in exasperation tapping one painted nail on the wood with steadily increasing strength.

    "Lauren, could you please stop that?" George asked.

    "Stop what?"

    "The tapping."

    "Oh, my apologies. I didn''t know I was doing that," Lauren said, ceasing the motion. "Cass, I require a distraction, bring me the book from my bedside."

    The pretty maid nodded and rushed to complete the order, she neatly passed by Cal as he made his way to the door.

    "She moved like you cracked a whip," George observed.

    "She did," Lauren said smiling gently. "I was sceptical at first, but she''s a hard worker and I like her dedication."

    "She''s a great help when making breakfast," Cal added from the doorway.

    Lauren looked to him, seemingly annoyed, "Cal, could you please hurry? The sooner he''s done with you the sooner we''re all done and we can stop waiting around."

    "Yes... uh... sorry. I''m on it," Cal said.

    He turned and made his way to the lounge.

    Sir Needle greeted him with a curt nod and a motion at the chair in front of him, sparing no time with pleasantries. Cal was afraid that the man would continue with the insults and cruel comments, but instead, the man merely asked about his Abilities. Cal answered as best he could, and felt his answers were lacking, but again their tutor wrote whatever he was writing on that sheet of paper before him.

    After he finished his last questions Adam leant back in his chair, stared at the ceiling and sucked his teeth.

    Worry was building within Cal. Was something wrong with his answers? Had he messed up by choosing as he did?

    "Is everything okay, Sir?"

    "Your powers are useful, I''m just wondering what to do with you. Your path isn''t quite as paved as the rest of the team and there are many things you could focus on to increase your strength and skill. Really, it comes down to what you want to do and how you want to fight. Do you want to fight? With your personal pack many a team would take you on just for the extra storage, even if you couldn''t contribute much to battle."

    Cal considered the question deeply. It was one he''d been asking himself recently. In the safety of his new home, more and more he felt that he no longer desired to leave it for unknown dangers. He was just getting comfortable and now Fritz wanted him to train his arse off so he could Climb the next, more deadly Spire. Just how far could he go, just how far would he let himself be pushed?

    He sunk into his chair and recalled all those moments of terror within the Mer Spire. Beasts were fearsome and he''d had enough close calls with claws, teeth or talons to last him a lifetime. Then he remembered the victories, the elation, the odd and various sights he''d seen and the new monster meats and magical fruits he''d tasted. Then he could see the team in his mind''s eye. Their shared smiles and welcome laughter, friends and something more. Soon he found his trepidation blown away, replaced with a remote fervour and a sense of strangely steely loyalty.

    "I want to fight," he said, surer than he''d felt in some time.

    "Good!" Sir Needle said. "A Support with some bravery and a backbone. What a sight!"

    Cal was surprised at the man''s exclamation, but he smiled to match the man all the same.

    "You might just be the rarest of the lot," Sir Needle said. "And that''s saying something considering the company you keep. One oddity after another."

    Cal beamed.

    "Still, let''s get onto your Advanced Attributes, close your eyes and concentrate on your body and the energies within."

    "Okay," Cal said. He closed his eyes.

    "Let''s start with Momentum," Sir Needle said. "Can you feel it?"

    Cal could feel it, it sat on his shoulders, and it made his body lighter and his burdens less burdensome. It was like the weight of the world didn''t press down on him as hard as it should.

    Cal explained the sensation as well as he could.

    "Good," the tutor replied. "Now Speed."

    That one was just as easy, it was slippery and lived on his skin. He had felt it helped him slide through winds and rain, and over the stone with ease. Again, he told Sir Needle of the feeling.

    "Alright," he said. "Last, your space mana, Spacewell?"

    "Spatial Potentia," Cal corrected.

    "A bit like Arcane then," Sir Needle said to himself.

    Cal tried to touch it and found he couldn''t, it was both there and not there, all around and nowhere to be felt. It was frustrating, but he persisted. Eventually, the tutor told him to stop.

    Cal sighed heavily and opened his eyes expecting reproach. He found none. Just a frown and a keen interest on Sir Needle''s face.

    "Sorry," Cal said anyway.

    "No matter, I know nothing of this particular Attribute in the first place. I was just interested in what it was like," he replied with a kind smile. "So it looks like you have Weightless Momentum and Slippery Speed. Quite a combination."

    "Is it?" Cal asked eagerly.

    "Oh yes, you''ll be hard to catch indeed. And both are on the intellectual, external, side of the spectrum which will make them more compatible if you wish to lace their energies together in a Pattern."

    "What?"

    "Nevermind that now, we''ll get into it later," the tutor said. "I''m a little tired of explaining it to each of you in turn so I''ll give you all the lecture at another time."

    "And lastly, Techniques," he continued. "I heard you''re learning to cook with a Technique book you discovered?"

    "Yeah, we found a bunch of them. This one was in a chest, not the sinking library," Cal said.

    "Sinking library?" The tutor asked, his eyebrows raising. "An Archive deep under the sea?"

    Cal nodded, now unsure if he should have been more tight-lipped. But Sir Needle was their tutor, Fritz trusted him, how bad could a small slip up really be?

    A grin stretched onto Sir Needle''s face. "Oh, the king is going to be furious."

    The man laughed, pulling a hip flask from his belt and taking a deep swig. He then tried to hand it to Cal, who refused. He laughed again, taking another gulp before putting the strong spirits away.

    "Ah, that''s put me in a great mood," he said heartily. "What a tasty bit of news."

    "What did we do?" Cal asked feeling a dread build in his chest. "Are we going to be in trouble with the king?"

    "Oh, no. No trouble," Sir Needle said. "Well, maybe some trouble if you start shouting about it or start selling a suspicious number of strange and rare Techniques. But if you keep your heads down it should be fine."

    He chuckled further, then when he saw Cal''s face he began laughing again. Seemingly this sinking library stuff was the funniest thing he''d heard in months.

    "You lot really are something," Sir Needle added once his mirth was under control.

    "Are you going to tell me what the trouble is?" Cal asked.

    "Later, I''ll tell you all of what you''ve accidentally stumbled into when I address you all," the man said, smirking.

    "Alright," Cal said, shuffling uncomfortably.

    "Right, we''ll get you a toughening Technique as well, maybe an armour one too, to keep you safe," Sir Needle said.

    "What about throwing or flail fighting styles?" Cal asked.

    "With your Guided Toss Ability, there would be little benefit to a throwing Technique. Though I know of one that would work well with flails and maces, and Momentum."

    "That sounds good," Cal said.

    "It does. I think I have a clear picture of your strengths now. You can go get the next of your team."

    "Which one?"

    "The girl," Sir Needle said with a small frown.

    "You don''t like her?"

    "A tutor shouldn''t speak ill of his students, but you''re right I like her the least," he allowed.

    "Why?"

    "She''s the type who gets by on their looks and charm," Sir Needle said. "Lazy and indulgent."

    "No, she''s not," Cal argued. "She may be beautiful, but she''s just as brave as any of us. I''ve seen it."

    "I didn''t say anything about bravery," the man replied blandly. "Just effort."

    Cal couldn''t refute that the woman wouldn''t work if she deemed the job too hard or dirty. But she was one of them, and fought the raider and every beast without flinching or shirking. He was about to protest further when the man waved him away.

    "Go on, go get her. It''s good that you''re loyal, but she can defend her own honour."

    Cal nodded sharply, his opinion of the man falling. He stood and made his way to the dining room.

    "Lauren. He wants you next."