Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Esmi managed Duke Norcobus beautifully. After we joined the pair of older nobility and greetings were exchanged, Norcubus made to resume his diatribe on the virtues of coal, but before he could gather steam, Esmi was complimenting his tie, which was woven around a card – perhaps one of the first the Duke had earned, for it was only of Common rarity, or perhaps it was meant to declare what he thought was the proper way of things.

Next, Esmi praised the way he used a ball of Order Source as the topper for his cane, and when that derailment had run its course, she asked after his wife, then his grandchildren, and finally convinced him that the cubed steak was of such great quality – not to mention running low – that he would be doing himself a grave disservice if he didn’t grab a bite of it before it was all gone.

Watching her work was thoroughly enjoyable and proof that she grossly underestimated her abilities. She claimed to be ineffective at such things, but the way she spoke with a pleasant, non-threatening confidence was the mark of someone who had practiced the art of dueling with words, not just cards.

All in all, we watched the Duke trundle off without a speck of help from me.

“You didn’t have to rout the poor man,” her father, Auguston of House Haraine, said. His wavy hair was tied back, leaving his left ear and the Charbonder marriage earring he still wore upon it impossible to miss, the twined gold wrapping all the way around the outer edge of his ear.

Esmi’s eyebrow arched. “But you always complain what a persistent bore he is.”

“True enough, but if I don’t let him speak in full, he’ll find other ways to needle me, with letters, or Soul messengers. Better he gets it all out once and a while, then I can rest some in the aftermath.”

“I could call him back,” I offered, trying to be helpful.

“Please don’t,” Esmi’s father said, waving dismissively. That same hand clamped down on my shoulder, pulling me a step closer I hadn’t planned on taking. “When you failed to show for your rematch with Esmi, I doubted you were the man she claimed.” He said it without malice, but he possessed an intensity that made me immediately wary. “Yet you stood your ground against your brother tonight, a more seasoned duelist and combat veteran. You’ve shown your teeth, and I think they’ll be sharp enough for the path you and my daughter have decided upon. Twins willing,” he added, glancing up.

“Father,” Esmi said. Her tone and look made it clear they had talked on this before and it was not something he was supposed to be mentioning.

I, however, wanted to make a good impression on the man who would be my father-in-law, especially since Esmi valued her relationship with him so highly. “That’s quite fair,” I told him, standing straight as I could under his large hand. “If my daughter were getting married, I’m certain I would be equally concerned with who she was planning to wed and what sort of character they possessed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Thinking of children already, are you?”

A lump formed in my throat, and I looked to Esmi; the speed at which the conversation had moved beyond what I was prepared to discuss was astonishing.

Like the dear she was, she swooped in to save me. “Not as soon as you might wish, father.” She put her hands atop his arm, and he finally let me go.

“Ah, well,” he said, taking a sip from the wine goblet he held. “A man can hope.”

That brief complication overcome, our conversation shifted to more benign things: possible wedding dates, which Church of the Twins it would be held in, and how long extended family from Charbond would take to arrive… though I noticed that there was absolutely no mention of Esmi’s grandfather. As the two of them continued – me interjecting when I thought it appropriate – I came to agree with Esmi’s assessment of her father: rather gruff, and perhaps a bit too direct, but the longer we spoke the clearer it became that those traits were merely the upper surface. Statements he made to Esmi, such as, “You’ve made the name your mother and I gave to you your own,” and, “I couldn’t be happier that this worked out how you wished,” revealed a deep well of caring and concern beyond the rough exterior.

How would he fare at dinner with my parents? I wondered. Would his respect for his child rub off on them? Or what about the Duskonlaud Fete, when we summoned the cards of our ancestors for an evening of merriment and remembrance, lasting from sundown to sunup? Would Esmi and her father find such holiday traditions off putting because of their unfortunate circumstances? And when we eventually did have children of our own, would their presence create division? Since there were less immediate family in line for the Haraine House, I should be joining theirs, but what if Gale never fathered a legitimate heir and Randel was too wrapped up in his artistic creations to ever take on any real responsibility? Should Esmi and I have two children at minimum to be safe?

I was beginning to realize that when it came to bringing our families together, there were so many moving pieces – things that Esmi and I would need to speak on, to plan for. And yet, seeing how her face shone when she spoke about the details of our upcoming union, and the crinkle of joy in her father’s eyes as he watched her, I was convinced that it would all work out as it should. After all, we had battled to reach this point. Surely we could handle the rest, so long as we were together.

Despite the pleasantness of their discourse, the longer it stretched, the more I became concerned that I had yet to spot Griff. I also wished to check on my brother in his foolish pursuit of Hull’s mother. Unlike orcs, or the undead following the recent assassination attempt on the King, Treledyne welcomed the occasional demon visitor who entered its gates. I respected, and could understand, Hull’s twitchiness on the matter, but I doubted any real harm would come to Gale from such a dalliance, besides making things more awkward for all of us. Still, rationalizing aside, seeing him hale with a drink in hand would ease my mind.

Thus, at the earliest possible opportunity, I excused myself as well as I could. Esmi, bless her, tried to get me to stay, but hearing their conversation resume with gusto when I was only a few steps distant told me that the pair would be perfectly fine without me.

Esmi’s father had been on a less populated platform, slightly raised from the main ballroom floor. Unfortunately, making my way through the press of bodies on the lower level was not as easy as I had hoped, particularly not when so many wished to congratulate me on my win over Gale or how the queen had blessed my marriage to Esmi – it seemed alone I was much easier target than when I had been walking arm-in-arm with my fiancée.

“Fate take me, but that run you had in the Rising Stars Tournament wasn’t a fluke after all,” a walrus of a man said. He was wearing an eyepiece that glittered with an oily rainbow film of color, an artifact no doubt, which meant he had money. Be that as it may, I didn’t recognize him as belonging to one of the immediate lines of nobility. Perhaps a rich merchant or an outer-lands baron. “Next time I’ll know who to put my coin on. Twice I can blame Fortune,” he said with a friendly wheeze, “but three times, and a man must start taking responsibility.”

“We’ll be expecting an invite, of course,” Lilsbet, a rail of a woman who hailed from House Rodan, the least of the Houses, told me. She was dressed fashionably in a dark blue neck-to-ankle dress, but it was her earrings that caught the eye: each a worked bronze cage for a card within. On her left ear hung a Greater Air Elemental and on her right a Greater Fire Elemental. I doubted she had the source to summon both – perhaps why they were on display instead of in her Mind Home – but still, they were an impressive sight. “Rodan has long been supporters of House Hintal, which would be a poor thing to forget.”

“A Hintal and a Haraine,” a young girl in a bell-shaped skirt stopped me to say. She might have been an offshoot of the Drakks, Lossum’s House, but I didn’t see him nearby, nor was my memory of House lineage particularly reliable. “You’ll be quite the match, I’m sure.” She tittered. “You the stick and her the flame.” Then she dashed off to join a group of similarly aged girls, who all laughed together while sneaking looks my way, as if the whole affair had been nothing more than a childish dare.

Each of these comments and others I had to respond to in some way, as was my duty as host, though what started as a few pleasant words exchanged turned into little more than a nod of acknowledgement to indicate that I had indeed heard them. More than that would have seen me stuck in pointless nattering for hours, something I was unwilling to do until I put my worries to rest – worries that were growing, particularly where Griff was concerned. Having invited him, he was my responsibility, and I was doing a piss-poor job of it, as Hull would say. The fact that my concern on the matter might be overblown and unnecessary didn’t slow my steps or stop my eyes from scanning over all who I could see, hoping to spot the shaggy-haired man and his armored guard.

Searching as I was, I suppose it was inevitable that I would run into Throice.

“Ah, Basil,” he called, raising his hand and shaking it in a very un-noble like way. He was dressed in a suit that looked more sturdy than fine, fitted with those gearwork buttons he favored. Seeing no way to avoid it, I angled toward him. At least he was alone, which would hopefully shorten the conversation.

“I’m glad that you were able to attend,” I said when I reached him. And, despite my current mission, I was glad in truth. Like I had told my mother, I viewed my interactions with him and his family as my first foray into being more than just a duelist. I was also impressed by the ingenuity of their creations, and, just as valuable, their ability to forgive. The ruse that Hull had pulled, claiming to be of my House – most nobles would have nurtured the offense for years to come. Yet, in my written correspondence with Throice, once the remainder of the balance for the Epic card had been paid in full, plus a bit of interest – courtesy of Ticosi’s purse – I had sensed no such continued hostility from them and saw none upon Throice’s face now. “Are you enjoying yourselves thus far?”

“Are we ever,” he answered with the type of enthusiasm drink was well practiced at producing. “Seeing your two duels already has my folks whipping up a storm. They’re there,” he said, pointing. My eyes followed his finger to find two people hunched over a large sheet of parchment spread across a cleared table, both furiously scribbling. “The help got them that paper when my pa started writing on the tablecloth with some coal stick he always carries.”

Throice laughed about it, but I cringed. If my mother learned that this family was causing damage to our home, she’d be even less inclined to support their bid to be a House. Of course, as I had said to her face, we might not need her for such; still, the more support the better, to my way of thinking. Throice spotted my look and his laughter died out. “Something wrong? It was just a little mark is all.”

“Not a worry,” I said, which I mostly believed to be true. Our help was quite skilled at removing such stains due to the many times I had slipped with my own charcoal writing utensils, so it should all be resolved before my mother got wind of it. “I’ll be interested to see what they come up with.” Judging from the duels they had seen, perhaps some flexible weapon like Gale’s Owl Blade, or maybe something similar to one of the Depths cards – it wasn’t very often one got to see them, after all. And if it was some form of defensive golem, I would be very interested… “Now, do you happen to have those Potions?” In our correspondence, we had planned to make the exchange tonight, so, even though it was derailing my search, it was actually good I was seeing him now. “I’d like to avoid disturbing your parents’ creative process if possible.”

“Sure do,” Throice said, digging into his pocket. When his hand came out, he held a thick stack, two Mind Homes’ worth of cards.

“And have you decided how many Metal Golems you’ll want?” he asked. He sounded eager to hear that answer, much more so than he had in his letters, likely due to the drink.

“Not yet,” I said, as we swapped the cards for a pouch of a dozen merits, six from me and six from Esmi. “I want to see how effectively they perform first.”

“You’ll want as many of them as you wanted potions,” he smiled confidently. “Have to say, I’m surprised you’ve taken such an interest in the Lows,” Throice was counting the merits now and looked up at me when he was done. “Glad it worked to our Fortune, mind you, but still, surprised.”

I shrugged, answering in the simplest way I could think of. “It really wasn’t that difficult a choice. You see people who require assistance, you want to help.” That wasn’t entirely true; it had been difficult to give up so many merits. From the new Air cards alone, I had wanted the Rare and Epic Monks, and my desire for the Vigil Medallion Relic was so strong I had even dreamt of it some nights – the way it rewarded defensive Soul play was an excellent fit for my deck.

However, I hadn’t needed it to defeat Gale – Griff, Esmi, and I had judged it too slow to be effective against his deck – and the people I had observed when traveling with Hull did need help. When some of the nobles Esmi had contacted for assistance had been slow to respond, we decided to take matters into our own hands. Holding the Healing Potions now made me quite glad we had; I was looking forward to distributing them with her the next time Hull made a trip. If I wanted to improve Treledyne, I had to start somewhere, after all.

“Fair enough,” Throice said, pocketing the merits. “Unless my parents are up all night fiddling with those new plans of theirs, I imagine we’ll be by tomorrow to scout the War Camp wares.”

“Ask after me when you arrive,” I told him. “I might be indisposed, but I’ll come see you if I can.” I had already run the exchange by General Edaine and gotten her approval, so hopefully she would allow me some time to introduce Throice’s family to the Camp sellers even if that meant missing a spot of training. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some other pressing matters to attend.”

“That won’t be a problem at all,” Throice said, grabbing a wine glass from a nearby serving tray and heading to the dance floor instead of his parents. It seemed that I wasn’t the only one who had other plans for the night.

We’ll need to work on his etiquette if he is truly to be noble, I thought. He didn’t even say goodbye properly.

Throice had been near the edge of the ballroom, so I decided to continue on the periphery. Here, the people I encountered were often sampling food and drink from the serving tables placed there, and so only nodded or curtsied in greeting to me, not wanting to speak with full mouths, which suited me perfectly. This sped up my progress until I came upon none other than Azure, the keeper and finder of secrets for the King.

I had seen Azure at many a function but never their face: no one had. The Keeper wore a billowing shirt and pant set of royal blue – clothes with multiple layers that made the exact shape of the body underneath hard to guess. Where a high collar might extend from the doublet, instead there was a hood that covered the Azure’s neck, ears, and any hair they might have, and where the hood ended, attached to it was an oval mask worn in front, completely hiding the Keeper’s features.

I hoped to move past Azure without being noticed, but I was a bare handful of steps around them when I heard, “Basil of House Hintal.” The voice was somewhere in-between that of a man or woman, making their true identity that much harder to place.

I turned, seeing Azure’s attention fully on me, and the person the Keeper had previously had been speaking to, Viscountess Douthim – without her summoned husband – used the opportunity to slink off.

“Keeper Azure,” I said, inclining my head. “Thank you for attending my fam –” I cut off because the sound around us from the other Gala-goers: the chatting, the airy string and flute music, the clinking of silverware on plates, all of it, had suddenly become muted, like I was under a Dueling Dome.

“A… trick of mine,” the masked figure said, which calmed me, but only just. I couldn’t tell if that meant it was a personal Soul ability, Artifact, or other, which was surely the purpose of the oblique phrasing. “Suffice it to say that anything you utter within this small sphere will be kept between us.”

“I see,” I said, making a show of looking around, like I was examining the cocoon the Keeper had placed us in. In truth, I was thinking of a reason why they would have stopped me. I couldn’t imagine that Azure cared a great deal about my marriage, but maybe they wished to know something about our interactions with the Deepkin. Or perhaps the elves? The trio had given me heartfelt but quite drunken congratulations soon after Esmi’s and my shared victory. Then they had stumbled off together to retire for the night, urging Esmi and I to do the same. “Quite different from the Cinder Elves in Charbon,” Esmi had said – a comment I was curious to hear more about when we had the time. But Azure’s interest now made me think that E’lal and the others had perhaps gotten in some trouble on the way out. “Was there something specific you wished to discuss?”

The Keeper inclined their head ever so slightly. “I never speak with someone unless there is.”

I coughed out a laugh. I suppose that explained why Azure had never deigned talk to me before.

“Recently, there were reports of a giant demon terrorizing the Lows. Searching for something, it seemed, and frightening the good folk of not only that neighborhood but those nearby with its ferocity and size. Yet then,” – Azure snapped their fingers – “the demon vanished and has not been seen since.” The Keeper leaned closer to me. “What was it looking for and did it find it?”

The mask had eye slits I could focus on, but I found the mask’s carved clouds more to my liking, tracing their edges with my eyes like I did the branches and leaves of the dogwood tree when cultivating. I thought the mask might have been made from bone; it was old and yellowed, even browned in some places, the engraving done in such a way that the clouds were slightly raised compared to the otherwise smooth planes of the mask. Griff had claimed that Azure was an Air user, one who specialized in doing lethal damage in an instant. Perhaps they expected conversations to go in the same way.

“Why would I know such a thing?” I asked.

“I can count the number of Nether users in the city on one hand,” Azure said. They spoke softly but I had no trouble hearing because of the deadened air around us. “And those who frequent the Lows with but a single finger. I think you know of whom I speak.”

I glanced at the eyeholes, wishing I could see the person behind. The power wielded by the Keeper was an unpleasant kind; it seemed to exist outside the regular Order of the city, or so my father complained whenever he spoke of Azure and the Keeper’s secret enforcers. No one among the nobility had ever permanently vanished or been harmed that I was aware of, but some had changed their stance on certain policies or affairs quite markedly after brief periods of being “indisposed.” The last thing I wanted was to be spirited away to the Keeper’s secret lair, which some claimed was beneath the Palace, but I had also promised myself some time ago now to stop making decisions out of fear.

“I thought the Lows was outside your purview,” I countered, hoping the question might lead to an avenue of escape from the conversation.

“It is outside your father’s dominion, certainly, but truth has no such borders. If there is a threat to my King or his kingdom, it is my duty to uncover it.” Azure gestured wide with their gloved hands. “Having been born and raised in Treledyne, sheltered in the Sun King’s light, do you not feel the same duty in your Soul?”

I hesitated only briefly. “If I knew of such a threat, I would be happy to share it with you.”

“Loyalty,” Azure purred behind the mask, “is a valuable asset, but only when it is properly directed.”

They stared at me – at least I thought they did – waiting, but they had not asked a question, so I returned the look with silence. If I could bore them, perhaps they would move along.

“You do not wish to follow in your father’s footsteps,” Azure said, matter-of-factly.

I frowned, surprised by the change in topic and the claim itself. “Why do you say –”

“You competed in the Rising Stars Tournament,” the Keeper interrupted. “How would such an act possibly benefit you if you wished to become a guard captain? The acquisition of a few more cards?” Azure snorted. “There are numerous other, less risky avenues. No, your eldest brother used the Tournament as a means of escaping his duty to your House, joining the army as a lieutenant, and you sought to do the same. I, however, can offer a third road.”

I disliked the details that Azure knew about my family and me, but I took a calming breath. This was to be expected when speaking with someone who's very job it was to know more than most. A third road, though? What in the Twins would that be?

Azure chuckled. “A spark of interest, yes? I see how you’ve built your deck – you’re a survivor. I can appreciate that, truly I can. And then there is the delightful information that your Soul card can uncover. I could use someone like you, Basil. Assuming you can cultivate your loyalties correctly, that is.”

I rocked back on my heels. First the king, then the dwarves, and now the Keeper? Did everyone here know what my Soul could do?

“As part of my forces, you could root out true sickness in the city.” He poked my chest, right where I held the stack of potions. “Not just give handouts to treat mere symptoms or spend the rest of your life guarding some meaningless stump or fortification. I will soon have an… opening among my officers. It is a position you could fill.”

For all the Keeper’s vaunted knowledge, I wasn’t sure why they believed insulting my father was the key to earning my loyalty. Just because I did not wish to be him did not mean that I lacked respect for him. However, I also suspected that an outright refusal would be extremely unwise.

“Thank you for the offer,” I said, as politely as I could. “It is a significant decision. Might I have some time to consider and speak of it to my intended? Perhaps we could revisit this after War Camp has concluded?”

“A diplomat. How refreshing.” They tapped their mask, and for the first time I realized that it could be an artifact, the very thing creating this bubble of silence. “You may tell your wife, but no other. The forces of the Keeper are kept secret for good reason.” Azure’s head trailed to the side, spotting something or someone. “You and I will speak of this again, of that you can be sure.”

Suddenly, the noise of the Gala crashed into me, the merriment and cacophony that had been held at bay rushing back into my ears. The Keeper seemed unaffected by the change, marching away on long legs, off to corner their next victim.

I was not as quick to recover, but when I believed myself sufficiently collected, I hurried off, continuing along the edge of the room since I had made better time that way. I noticed that the queen had set up a court of sorts on the eastern side, her previous throne exchanged for an elegant red settee with wood the color of burnished gold I had never seen in our keep before. Is her Mind Home full of furniture?

After Esmi had won against Glydnuk, the queen had made the oddest request of me as I hung limp in relief off the arm of her throne: that my fiancée and I become friends with Gerad. She had said that his previous hangers-on had ‘failed to stay at his side,’ which I could only assume meant Reginald and Lossum. The last thing I wanted was to take up their role, but it was the queen! So, I had bowed my head and agreed to try. Perhaps that was why she had chosen to say such favorable things about Esmi and me to those gathered, or perhaps not, but either way, I didn’t want to go near her again for fear she’d make forced dinner plans or similar for the three of us.

I cut inward to avoid her, crossing the room once, then twice, still having no luck finding Griff or my brother, the former of which should have stood out like a bushy crow among songbirds. I was on my third crossing when I passed a group engaged in a flinch test. A crowd was gathered to watch, and I thought I saw sweet Anya, Esmi’s bunkmate of all people, in the middle. What could have driven her to compete in such a thing I couldn’t guess. Some argument over the Faith?

Not far off to the side, General Edaine herself stood, wearing her Mythic armor as always, her solid frame putting her a good head above anyone nearby. Next to her there was a robed figure that had that extra-real quality of summoned cards, and a squint showed me not only what he was but also explained what he was doing there.

Perhaps it was her armor that informed Edaine that I was near, because without warning, her head snapped in my direction even though I was standing still, reading her card silently. Upon seeing me, she smiled warmly and then gave me a nod that was deeper than normal. I could only take the gesture to mean that she was congratulating me on the win, so I excitedly returned the depth of the nod and then some to show her my thanks. Just the fact that she had chosen to attend the Gala was an honor, but to have her recognize my achievement, particularly after my own family had been so lacking? It warmed my heart.

I rode that pleasant high for a good dozen steps until I heard my name called. Or at least I thought I did. The word was jumbled by chatter and other noise all around, so I was completely unprepared to be confronted by Warrick.

My old friend looked well enough, his lanky frame covered in expensive taupe clothing, an ermine half cloak draped over his right shoulder. I had been meaning to ask Afi about him, but never had, even though the opportunity had been available to me every day and certainly tonight.

Feeling guilty about my lack of follow-through, I started with a compliment even though he didn’t really deserve it. “You are looking well.”

“As do you,” he replied, stiffly.

My mother must have invited him, no doubt to remind me of the ‘old me’ to which she wanted me to return. Then again, my mother probably wasn’t aware of our recent fallout, so she might be entirely blameless in this case.

“How have you been?” I asked while at the same time hearing an echo of the last words he had spoken to me, those months before. He had told me that I wasn’t good enough, that our friendship had been based on pity. Where could we possibly go such words had been spoken aloud?

“Fine,” he replied, eyes sometimes flicking away from me. Was he looking for Hull? Esmi?

We stood there in awkward silence, me waiting for him to ask after my affairs or say something about my duel. When neither of those happened, I found I did not have it in me to try and draw such questions out of him or to confront him about how terribly he had treated me before – I simply wasn’t prepared for such an interaction. So, I took the coward’s way out, for once not feeling poorly about the choice.

“I’m afraid I must be off,” I said. I was going to add that I was glad he had attended, but I couldn’t quite make myself say those words.

“Another duel to win?” Warrick asked, a hint of bite to the question.

“Thankfully, no. I need to find a guest I invited who might be misbehaving.”

Warrick looked at me closely, as if he was trying to decide whether or not I had just made a swipe at him. “Fortune favor your search,” he said, turning on his heel, half cloak billowing behind him. “I look forward to your wedding. I’ve been working on my speech.”

Warrick’s back was to me, so he didn’t see my eyes fly wide. He had the gall to assume that he would be invited to my wedding after how we had last parted? And not only that, he thought I’d grant him a position of importance enough to deliver a speech? I was a few steps after him, feeling like I was ready to have that difficult conversation when I paused. I had searched nearly all parts of the ballroom by now, some multiple times, and had nothing to show for it. I had a suspicion of where Gale was since I couldn’t find him, but there was nothing I could do about that now if I was correct. Griff, however, must be poking around somewhere he very much shouldn’t be. I needed to find him.

In comparison to that, Warrick… Warrick I could deal with later, when I had given myself time to decide what to say and was in the proper frame of mind.

I went to the hallway nearest where I had last seen Griff, by the foot of the grand stairway entrance, and stepped within so guests and I weren’t each other’s way. There I summoned Atrea, which I should have done from the very start.

“You don’t look well,” she said, her flaming blue eyes seeing right through me.

I probably didn’t, not after bumping into my oldest friend for the first time in months. To my way of thinking, Warrick had betrayed me even worse than Hull – who had almost let me die – because unlike Hull, Warrick had never apologized for his actions.

“Just a bit of a scare,” I told her. “Nothing to worry about.” Then I explained about Griff and sent her to circling the massive room in case I had somehow missed the Chaos user. Her presence might disturb the guests, but nowhere near as much as Griff’s would if left unchecked among Ordered folk.

Next, I sent two Bearkin and the Spiderkin in elf form to search the various passageways that led off from the ballroom, while I traveled down the one I was already in.

That foray was equally fruitless; some actual spiders in one of our storage rooms all I located. It was the Bearkin with ear tattoos who found me shortly thereafter. Apparently bears had fine noses, a trait the elf could partially access even when not transformed.

“The man you seek is this way,” the Soul said.

I followed the elf, but paused when we reached the spiral stairwell he indicated. It went down to the family vault where we kept our deceased kin that weren’t fit for dueling and other valuables. The sound that caused my hesitation was faint, but I swore I heard the clang of metal on metal.

I was probably being paranoid – Griff had Stephi to keep him in line, and the House guards or servants would have alerted us if the keep was under some sort of attack – but after being stabbed by Ticosi and jumped in the Lows, I would much rather look foolish than be caught unawares. I summoned one of my bodyguards.

“Lead the way,” I commanded the moment it formed. “Fast as you can.” The Master Shieldbearer’s steps were not quiet, one armored foot landing after the next, but it was quick, and I pounded down the spiral stairs after it, the Bearkin following at my heels.

Surely there’s nothing to find, I told myself, but the way my heart raced, my body didn’t agree.