Fritz held up the intricately carved key of gold and silver and looked through the circular hole at its base. Through that opening, which would usually be used to attach it to a key ring, he peered at the bland stone bricks before him. They were as normal as any wall, yet now, he could see small, dimly glowing runes surrounding the slit of a keyhole.

Taking the loop away from his eye, the shining lines vanished from his vision. That was fine, Fritz had already memorised where the hidden lock lay. He stepped forward, then slid the key into the seemingly solid stone and turned it. With a click and a hum, the bricks slid away as if painted on silk curtains, leaving in its place a door of solid rainsteel.

Fritz wondered just how much gold the obfuscation had cost, grimacing at the waste. He didn't linger long on that unhelpful thought, instead setting the key into the newly revealed lock. After a heavy click and the clunk of some mechanism within the metal, he grasped the handle. It was stiff, yet it yielded when he pulled it down.

With a slight push, the door swung open on silent hinges, exposing the lightless room beyond.

Fritz had expected the vault to be as bare as the manor above, with anything of value having been seized and sold. That was not the case. Through the darkness, he could see many things. There were books stacked waist high, bundles of large scrolls, crates, chests and barrels with unknown contents. At one side there was a desk cluttered with loose documents and a large ledger.

Most of all, there was dust, a thin layer undisturbed, save for many sets of footprints that matched Count Wavereach's shuffling gait. It was clear that he'd walked that trail more than a few times over the years. That old path led to a row of chests lining the back wall, ending in front of the largest of them.

Before Fritz passed into the vault, he pulsed his Awareness. He felt the tingle of a trap, though he knew at once that it was currently inert. There was also another impression, one that wriggled, drawing his attention to a stack of small, leather-bound books for a brief moment before the sensation ceased.

Slinking into the room, he made his way to the slanted pile, plucking the first of the volumes from its precarious place. Fritz opened it to the first page and written in dainty, deliberate script were the words: The days and delights of the rainblossoms bloomed and the songbirds vain vivid, lavishly plumed. Claire Hightide. Poet. Songwrite.

Fritz couldn't help but smile, though it was a sad one. This was his mother's, one of her few written works and one of her earlier artistic endeavours, if he wasn't mistaken. It could have even been inked before she had come of age. The book wasn't dated, so it was difficult to truly tell when the words had been set to page, yet it had a certain youthful air to it, like spring or the day after a Tolling. Written at a time before she was his mother, of that much he was certain.

It was an odd thing to consider, that she once was as young as Thea now was. He wiped away the tears that were weighing on his eyelids with a silken sleeve, then slid the book into an inner pocket of his coat. With now unclouded vision, he glanced over the rest of the stack. Fritz deliberated, then discarded the thought of digging through the dusty journals, records and diaries, as they looked to be.

That's not why he was there; he was there to find any Treasures or any gold that was left to him, and he couldn't get distracted by sentimentality, nor could he risk losing himself in melancholy and memory.

Fritz made his way to the chests and lifted the lids one by one. They were all empty, save the largest one in the middle. In it, there were three fine bags, each filled with golden triads. There were at least a hundred in each, if he guessed correctly. A small fortune, though less than he had been hoping for.

He shook his head. It was a huge amount, it only felt meagre because of his recent windfalls and his many looted Treasures. He was letting his recent good luck go to his head.

Fritz turned next to the desk, then began opening its drawers. Old paper, dry ink and crumbling quills were all he found, until a dim glow from a corner of the top drawer caught his eye. He would have missed it if not for the lack of light in the room. Cautiously, he reached for the dull gleam under the sheaf of paper. His fingers found a cold, flat stone that was slightly smaller than the span of his palm.

Irregularly, it trembled in his hand, or perhaps it was he who was slightly shaking. Faint lines of light were inscribed upon the face, forming a glyph that read: Tomas Hightide.

Fritz frowned. He felt there was a connection, a thin humming thread, from this stone to something, someone, far, far away. And then it was gone, the thread, the light and the tremor.

Disappeared as if he had dreamed it.

Maybe he had.

There was the click of shoes by the vault's entrance. Fritz spun, drawing Quicksilver.

"Who goes there?" Fritz called out.

There was a sharp intake of breath and a short, quiet cry.

The shoes, three sets, he now realised, clacked in retreat for a few steps.

"It's Ms. Redoubt, Lady Hightide and I," Lauren announced. Her eyes lit with the gleam of Mana Sight, then they narrowed. "Is that you lurking down there, Fritz?"

Sheepishly, Fritz sheathed his blade, glad he couldn't be seen in the deep dark of the vault. He hadn't realised he'd been so tightly strung so as to draw steel.

With a cough to clear his throat, he said, "Yes, it is I. Though I could hardly be accused of lurking in my very own manor."

The three young women appeared before the open door, peering into the room.

"It's pitch black in there, Francis," Thea said. "If you're not lurking, then you're doing something akin to it. How can you even see?"

"Oh, I have a night vision Passive," Fritz said.

"What's in there?" Thea asked. "Is that...uh..."

"The master bedroom? No, it's the vault," Fritz answered. He lit the mana lantern hanging on his belt, illuminating the room.

"Oh," Thea said, relieved. She smiled, then concern flashed over her face, and she glanced at the two others with her. "Are you sure you should be announcing such things so openly, brother?"

Her tone was tense, mistrustful. Jess and Lauren noticed, though they didn't comment, only allowing their polite expressions to sharpen slightly.

"Hmm?" Fritz hummed. "I should think it's fine. I trust these two with the management of my team's funds. And my life, when the need arises."

Jess smiled uneasily at the statement, while Lauren beamed proudly. Thea's brow furrowed, but she nodded her acceptance.

"May we enter the vault?" Lauren asked.

"Absolutely," Fritz allowed. "Though there's not much to see, I'm afraid."

Thea, followed by Jess and Lauren, tentatively entered, staring around at the vault's dusty contents.

"There seem to be plenty of books," Jess observed.

"Yes," Fritz agreed. "I don't know exactly what they contain, but I suspect that they are records of House Hightide. I'll have to sort them later."

"And I suppose that is the ledger," Lauren said, motioning to the heavy tome on the desk.

"I would think so, though I haven't had the time to study it yet," Fritz said.

"You can leave that to me," Thea said absently. She lifted one of the large scrolls and unfurled it. Tilting her head, she squinted at the faded portrait painted upon its surface.

"What have you found there, sister?" Fritz asked.

"I think this may be our great-great-grandmother," she replied. "Though I can't be sure, it's just the picture, no plaque or frame to bear her name. I suspect those were melted down and sold."

Fritz nodded, then asked, "How did your explorations of the manor go? Did you find what you were seeking?"

"We did," Lauren said. "The bath was quite large and luxurious. It's probably big enough to have half of the team soaking in it all at once."

"How wonderful," Fritz said.

"We also found a small library, and although it was mostly empty, it would make a fine study when properly furnished and its shelves properly filled," Jess explained.

Fritz nodded. "And the rooms looked fine?"

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"More or less, there was one that had a leak, though," Lauren said.

"Easily repaired," Fritz assured.

"There are bags in this chest," Thea noticed. "Gold?"

"What's left of it," Fritz said.

"Quite a lot," Thea said.

"Plenty to spare for some maintenance and other expenses," Fritz agreed. "Anyway, I think that's enough of the vault for the two of you. Most of these volumes are likely Hightide secrets, and I can't go giving them away. Not when I don't even know them myself."

"Very well," Lauren said, not wholly pleased. She then turned to Jess. "Let's keep exploring... elsewhere."

Jess pulled her gaze away from the piled books and nodded. Lauren offered her hand to her. She took it with a smile, then they walked from the vault without much haste.

Fritz looked on thoughtfully, the motes of light around them flickered in confusing patterns.

Camaraderie, comfort, curiosity, but most of all, care.

"It's good Jess has made a true friend," Thea said, noticing his gaze. "One around her age, I mean. She always struck me as a little lonely."

"Is that so?" Fritz asked, thinking it had been Lauren who had been the lonely one.

"It is," Thea said. "She's wonderful with children, and she's been good company to me, but she never really got along well with any of the older girls. And the boys, well, you know what they're about."

Fritz did, even if he wasn't one to howl and hound after pretty women; many men were.

"And how exactly do you know what the boys are about?" Fritz inquired protectively. "Should I be worried that my precious sister is out gallivanting?"

Thea blushed and she stammered out, "Of course not! I merely heard about it from my clubs."

"Rumours and gossip then?" Fritz asked, some relief washing over him. "No sneaking out of the orphanage then?"

She looked aghast at the accusation and squeaked, "Francis! How could you think that?"

Fritz shrugged, then smiled. "It's what I would have done."

"And that's the reason your reputation is that of a scoundrel," she stated in a huff.

"It is?"

"Yes. No matter what I tell the girls at my club, they say you're some mysterious rogue. A philanderer. A seducer of married women, no less. Where that rumour began, who can say, though it has sprouted thoroughly. As has the talk of a marriage, both to Lady Noonsea and to the Princess of all people. It seems that whenever and wherever you are concerned, mad rumour follows."

"Is that truly terrible?" Fritz asked with some small self-satisfaction.

"As your sister, it's embarrassing; and as a Hightide, it's unbecoming," she stated haughtily.

"Well, take heart that it is merely rumour, not truth," Fritz said, just as haughtily.

She glared, though her eyes held little heat.

Fritz smirked.

"I'll believe you, for now," she relented.

"Good," Fritz said. "And now that we're alone, we should search this room for any secrets that could have been left behind for us."

"You think there's something hidden here?" she asked eagerly, her mood lightening from the prospect.

"Maybe. Either here or somewhere else in the manor," Fritz said. "I can't imagine that mother or father would have had no plans for us."

"I suppose so," Thea hedged. "Any places we should start?"

Fritz pulsed his Awareness. Again, he had the impression that there was something important buried in the books. It was a vague sensation, whatever was there could be in any of the stacks.

"The books," Fritz provided.

"Anywhere more specific?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Fritz admitted.

Thea sighed.

Fritz commiserated, sharing a smile with her, then joined her in the cursory search.

Fifteen minutes later, they had found nothing of particular interest, though they had found more volumes that were written by their mother. Mostly diaries, which Fritz let Thea take. He could tell that she was already more attached to them than he was, and it would let her know more of their mother. She claimed to have patchy, incomplete memories of her, so it was an easy choice.

Frustratingly, they found nothing of their father's. Not one page or glyph. The reason was obvious: the Guides Guild had scoured their estate of any such remnants.

Eventually, Fritz called a stop; he could hear Bert calling for him down the hall, and he had decided any further investigation would be fruitless.

Thea rose from where she knelt, wiping the dust from her dress while Fritz stood from where he had sat.

Somewhat dejectedly, they left, closing the rainsteel door behind them and locking it. Fritz briefly considered activating the stone brick concealment, but chose not to. It was a waste of gold, and more importantly, he didn't know how. He'd have to ask the Count how it operated.

"Lord Hightide," Bert said, arriving in front of Fritz with a rugged, wrinkled, middle-aged man at his back, struggling to keep up. "There's someone you should meet, he's making quite the fuss."

"This is them, I take it?" Fritz asked, motioning to the man.

He wore a long raincoat of dark blue and had thick boots and gloves of grey leather. He had left muddy bootprints in his wake.

"Aye, this is he," the man replied with a squint of suspicion.

"The groundskeeper," Bert said in a hushed tone.

"And who are you who intrudes upon the estates of Lord Hightide?" the groundskeeper demanded.

"I am Lord Hightide," Fritz intoned seriously, not at all liking the man. Not just from his abject rudeness and seeming lack of sense, but from the way his eyes swivelled to gaze upon Thea, then lingered.

His tongue darted over his lips, and he returned his stare to Fritz. "Got proof of that? Lord?" he scoffed.

An idiot.

Fritz held up his signet ring, then ordered, "Pack now and leave at once. You're services are no longer required."

The man went pale.

"My apologies, Lord," the former groundskeeper sputtered. "Please do not cast me aside, I have toiled loyally here for years."

"Begone with you," Fritz said unrelentingly. "If you are not out by the end of the hour, I shall have you whipped for trespass."

"Please, lord," he whined, falling to his knees. "It was a mistake. An error. It won't happen again."

"It was foolish to judge me as an intruder so swiftly, was it not?" Fritz asked, taking on the air of someone teaching a lesson.

"Indeed, foolish, I was," the man agreed, nodding his head vigorously.

"Well, I do not employ fools," Fritz stated. "Begone."

The man, who had raised his head in hope, bowed and began to weep.

"Francis," Thea said softly, tugging on his shirt's cuff.

He met her gaze.

"Surely this punishment is too much for an honest mistake," she said, obviously perturbed by the man's display.

Fritz shook his head. She couldn't see it, but black emotion boiled off the man like a sticky steam, confirming any suspicions about his virtue, or lack thereof.

"No," he uttered, then he turned hard eyes on the former groundskeeper. "Get out of my sight before I draw my blade."

The man leapt to obey at that, then scurried away. Fritz didn't even have to wield Dusksong.

"Bert, follow him and make sure he doesn't cause any mischief or make off with something that belongs to the estate," Fritz requested.

Bert sighed. "From burglar to guard, how can I ever look myself in the mirror again?"

"How would that stop you from admiring yourself? How could anything but blindness stop you?" Fritz rejoined with a chuckle.

"True as the rain," Bert agreed before bounding after the former groundskeeper.

"Was he really a burglar?" Thea asked.

"That and more," Fritz said. "But that's neither here nor there. I can hear a commotion in the entrance hall. Let us go see what has occurred."

It wasn't some great argument, like Fritz had been fearing, but simply the boisterous talk of his team.

He strode to where they had gathered.

"I think I could fit a double sized or, even a triple sized, bed in the room I found," Rosie boasted.

"What on Epsa do you need such a large bed for?" Cal needled. "Wait. Don't tell me."

"So I can stretch out my arms and legs all the way out," Rosie said, telling him.

Fritz cleared his throat, then asked the assembled group, "Have you found the manor to your liking?"

"Oh, yes, it's quite grand," Jess replied politely.

"It will be wonderful once it's furnished," Lauren provided.

"The training hall will be useful, and there's plenty of space in the garden to run and practise," George said.

"The kitchen is huge," Cal added eagerly. "The stove is almost a forge."

"It's not," George corrected.

"That's why I said almost," Cal replied.

"It's not," George repeated.

"And you, Cassandra?" Fritz asked the silent, nervous servant.

"It's magnificent, but it's too much for one maid to take care of," she signed.

Fritz nodded. "I'll hire on more help. Including a new groundskeeper."

She smiled gratefully.

The team talked a little longer, deciding on the room arrangements if they were to stay. It was eventually agreed upon that the men would have the west wing, which was closer to the kitchen, while the women would occupy the east wing, which was nearer to the room with the large bath.

Fritz and his siblings, of course, would have the rooms in the manor's centre, with Fritz himself claiming the master bedroom. He didn't know yet if he would actually be able to sleep there without terrible nightmares, but it was his by right, so he demanded it. Neither Elliot nor Thea begrudged his blatant self serving.

Bert returned, relaying that the former groundskeeper had been escorted out of the estate with minimal bruising. Then they held a vote, which was passed unanimously for the Hightide Manor to be their new residence.

The whole ordeal had gone better than Fritz had expected, though his team did report a few leaks and the completely bare nature of the rooms. Still, he couldn't complain too much. The manor still stood, and furniture could be replaced. In fact, the team, and even himself, if he were being honest, were eager to place their orders for beds, couches, armchairs and tables. They could commission all manner of personalised decorations and fixtures. Fritz even thought about purchasing a new chandelier for the entrance hall or the dining room. Though he swiftly realised that was a frivolity and discarded the prospect.

And while they waited for all these furnishings to be made and delivered, they decided to stay in the Climber House for one more month. It wouldn't do to rush into a new residence without any beds to sleep on. After finally earning enough gold to rest on soft mattresses, neither Fritz nor any of his team were willing to give that up again, not unless they absolutely had to.

That very afternoon, they set out into the Thoroughfare markets, spending up a storm. One they could easily afford due to a combination of wager winnings on Fritz's duel, the sale of siren silk and the bounty of a barrier ring brought to the Treasury. The price to properly furnish their rooms barely came out to more than twelve gold a person, depending on how well they haggled and how exquisite the commissions were.

They would have to wait, of course, the sheer number of orders requested from the various carpenters and the chair, pillow and mattress makers would have those tradesfolk working for weeks.

With light smiles and lighter purses, they returned to the Climber house, chatting and laughing as they walked.

Fritz escorted his siblings back to the orphanage, and they looked on the gate with apprehensive eyes. Perhaps they were worried they were betraying the home that had been theirs for so long and the kindness of their tutors and carers.

"It's good that you're finally leaving," Fritz reassured them.

"Leavin' are you?" Frank asked, and he made his way over from where he had been guarding the gate, favouring one leg slightly as he always did.

"In a month," Elliot replied.

"Francis is right, for once, that is a good thing," Frank stated. "You can't stay here forever."

Each of the Hightides nodded.

"I myself was thinking of ending my contract at the end of the year," Frank mused.

"Well, if you still seek employment as a guard..." Elliot trailed off. "Well, just come to us."

"I might just do that. A cushy guard job up in the Palace Ring might be good for a retirement," Frank said.

"What about the children? I thought you cared for these kids?" Fritz asked.

The man smiled lopsidedly. "Maybe I'll keep my contract here then. You've convinced me."

Both Thea and Elliot frowned at Fritz, who sighed. Frank chuckled.

From there, Fritz said his farewells and left.

While he walked, he reflected on his day, on facing his old home. The fear and terror hadn't assailed him as he had suspected, though he had avoided any of the areas that would truly test him. Like the garden and the burned, bloody room. Still, he didn't have to fight all his battles in one day; he knew he had time to meet them as each one came.

It wasn't cowardice, but pragmatism.

That's what he told himself, at least.

When he arrived at the Climber house, the very moment he was through the front door, someone spoke to him.

"Fritz, it's done," George said. It was obvious he had been waiting eagerly, if quietly.

"The device?" Fritz asked, knowing nothing else the man could be speaking of.

"Yes," George said, proud as a spear's point.

"Are you sure?" Fritz asked.

"As sure as steel."

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