Fritz felt the urge to run, but he didn't heed such a cowardly impulse. Not under the eyes of his team and tutor. That, and he saw no ill intent or bloodlust in the woman's light brown eyes.

She strode over on long legs. Her step and stance were those of a hunting beast. Therima looked as though she would lunge and strike at any moment. Fritz didn't flinch. His Danger Sense had remained silent. She stopped two feet in front of him, then narrowed her gaze as she glanced over him.

"Where's that bastard Vaa'gur? Did you kill him?" she demanded.

"Vaa'gur?" Fritz said, pretending he didn't sharply remember the raider who had stalked him and his team.

"Vaa'gur," she repeated, unconvinced. "You met him with me and Sertine. He's around your height, has black hair and has a beard. Has a temper, too."

"Bearded, bestial, and as bloodmad as a starved hound?" Fritz asked, again with feigned ignorance. "Hmm, I don't believe we crossed paths recently. Murdered was he? I can't say I'm too surprised or sad to hear it."

Unfortunately, while his performance may have fooled her, had he been alone, the woman only had to scan the dark expressions of Cal, Lauren, Rosie and George to see the truth of their last meeting with the dead man.

Therima's eyes grew steadily more frustrated until they alighted on Bert's smug grin. He winked at her.

Rather than fulminate in full fury, she instead snorted. "A bunch of rookies like you got him?! Hah. Serves the fool right!"

"That's right," Rosie said. "Bastard stabbed me. So we got him back."

"It was him or us," Cal asserted.

"I know that well," Therima agreed. "How'd you do it?"

"Painfully," Fritz stated.

Therima laughed, then she shook her head, her burst of cruel glee cut short. "Damn him! Now I need to find another Scout."

Her gaze shrewdly assessed Fritz. It wasn't entirely pleasant.

"You've met our esteemed Lord Hightide before?" Adam asked, interrupting the woman.

"Lord Hightide?" she asked. "He's the one you wish me to teach?"

"Correct," Adam said.

"Huh. This sure is a small city," she mused.

"If only you knew how right you are," Adam said, running his hand through his beard. "Do you bear a grudge that he and his team have defended themselves from your...companion?"

"Hah. Barely a companion, more a dog in need of proper training," Therima said. "But, no, I bear no grudge. I let him slip off his leash; it is I who bears the blame for his death."

"I think it was more his own arrogance," Lauren claimed.

"And his weakness," Therima agreed. "A near Journeyman falling to six Rookies. All barely more than Pathers, if I guess right." She shook her head. "What a pathetic death."

"He had that high a level?" Cal blurted.

"Yah, he would've crossed the threshold after Climbing the Rain Spire. Or maybe he would have simply died in the attempt, considering how... weak he proved to be."

"Almost a Journeyman," Adam said thoughtfully. "That's quite a feat. I thought you were merely exaggerating, Lord Hightide."

Fritz let the comment pass, smiling with self-assurance.

"Do you still have Vaa'gur's Spire Badge?" Therima asked. "It is mine, lent to that fool, and I would have it returned."

"Unfortunately, he hid away his pack before he assaulted us," Fritz lied easily. "We couldn't find it after the battle, and we were in no state to search for it."

"You were able enough to rob his corpse. I see you have his seaskin ring," she said, glancing pointedly to the Treasure on Lauren's finger.

"Will you be wanting that back, too?" Lauren challenged.

"No. As the Commands decree, all of his possessions and property belong to you who have conquered him," Therima declared.

At the mention of the Commands, many of the team stepped back, save Bert, who kept his composure.

Therima scoffed at their reactions.

Fritz caught Adam's eye. His tutor smiled apologetically.

"Sir Needle, may I speak to you in private?" Fritz asked.

"Of course, lead the way," Adam said.

Fritz did, striding away, then rounding on the man when they were far enough away that their whispered words wouldn't be heard.

"You knew she was a Krakosi Raider?" he demanded.

"I don't know about Raider," Adam said dismissively. "But Krakosi? Yes, I knew."

"And you want me to learn from a savage like her?" Fritz accused.

Adam frowned. "Not all Krakosi are the brutal barbarians you imagine. Some are more... cultured. They heed their Commands in a more benign, or rather, more pragmatic, manner."

"Did you not just hear what she said of her own team member? She's pleased he perished. How is that pragmatic?" Fritz argued.

There was a surge of laughter, Bert, Rosie and Therima's voices echoed through the hall. Cal, George and Lauren scowled.

"She's not seeking vengeance, for one," Adam said. "For two, she Climbs with others who don't share her creed. That marks her as tolerant."

"And you want me to learn from her? A Krakosi, they're mad. You're mad," Fritz hissed.

"True as the rain," Adam agreed. "But Krakosi are tough as nails and as stubborn as skulg. Ruthless and relentless when the need arises, which in the Countless Isles, and on Krakos itself, is always. If you're willing, there's much she can teach you. And not just about the Spires, but about the wider world and sailing its oceans."

The words gave Fritz pause, and he considered what knowledge he could stand to gain. Adam smiled knowingly.

"You think she's trustworthy?" Fritz asked. "She won't just be biding her time to enact some revenge?"

"A Krakosi? No, when they have a grudge, they settle it quickly, same as a debt. And when they want something, they take it through challenge. Waiting is not in their nature," Adam explained.

"You seem to know a lot of the Krakosi's habits," Fritz said.

"Climbed with one once. One of the hardest, meanest bastards I've ever met. Cut me badly in a challenge over a Treasure cloak," Adam reminisced, his face torn between a grin and a grimace. "It was an ugly, green thing, and I should have just let him have it. But I was young and proud then. Though you won't have that problem. You won't be Climbing with her, she's just here to teach you how to survive in truly harsh conditions."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Fritz hesitated. His indecision must have been evident, because Adam laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "Trust me."

Fritz nodded, then both of them returned to the team, who had ceased laughing and now stood in silence.

Therima looked to the two expectantly. "Ready to begin?"

"Very well," Fritz said.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." She grinned, it was all too savage to be reassuring.

"You needn't bother, I can endure whatever training you have for me, be it torturous or simply tiresome."

She grinned wider.

The training turned out to be mostly tiresome. She found the regimen that Adam had planned to be broadly acceptable, though she did suggest he add crawling on his belly to his routine exercises.

After that, she taught him the basics of survival in the diverse wildernesses one could find; three ways of starting a fire without flint and steel; the best way to find fresh water; how to tell if plants or animals were poisonous, and most interesting of all, how to navigate using the stars.

That last was something that Fritz had little knowledge of, and even less practice with. An unclouded sky was an impossibility in Rain City, so it stood to reason that there would be no use for such a skill to be taught. Therima even lent him maps of the stars and constellations, which he intended to send to a scribe to be copied.

While navigation was an intriguing subject, Fritz had to ask if it had any bearing on Climbing.

"The stars aren't right in a Spire, there are hundreds of different skies. But you can find hints in those lights that lead you to the Stairway, or to a Treasure Chest,"she explained.

Fritz nodded and continued listening as the lecture turned to the tracking of beasts and men. Another extremely useful skill that he had neglected learning, again due to the nature of Rain City. How could one track a man over stone streets when the mud and grime were always being washed away by the rain?

Eventually, the lesson ended.

"Do you think we'll be done within the week?" Fritz asked.

Therima sighed and shook her head. "You are quick, Fritz. But you have much to learn. We haven't even had the chance to talk about how to be a good Captain."

"I have been successful so far," Fritz said.

She shrugged. "Maybe you have. You likely have a knack for that, too. I can see the trust in your team's eyes when they look to you. Even this Sir Needle has been caught in your rhythm. But it won't hurt to listen to me. I have a few insights that may prove useful when leading Climbers you would call foreigners... or savages."

She smiled.

"You heard that?" Fritz asked.

"I didn't need to. I know what the world thinks of the Krakosi," she said.

"Are you also going to say that not all Krakosi are brutal barbarians?" Fritz asked.

"I will not lie, our reputation as ruinous ravagers is well earned. We bought that with all the blood we spill and the death we sow. But there are a few of us who follow the Commands without the excess cruelty most enjoy inflicting."

Her smile grew crooked.

"Excess cruelty?" Fritz asked, incredulous. "That beast of a man was ready to skin me."

Again, she shrugged. "He was a furious fool, even among the Krakosi. But his kind is not uncommon. They wield the Commands like a bludgeon and a shield, claiming all they do is in pursuit of Jorved's Red Path."

"Just what are these Commands?" Fritz asked.

"I will not speak on them, they are not for you," she said, waving away the question. "I will be here the day after tomorrow."

Fritz frowned, but Therima didn't see it. She had turned and strode away.

Soon, she was out of sight, and Fritz was surrounded by his team, all asking questions.

"Was she honest about having no grudge?" Lauren hedged.

"Can we trust her?" Cal asked.

"Did she say anything about me?" Bert inquired.

Fritz answered as best he could, allaying their worries as Adam and Therima did his own.

While they weren't completely satisfied, a sentiment he shared, they accepted her presence for now. Especially because Fritz was keen to learn all she knew.

"I don't know," Rosie said. "I don't trust her. Got a bad feelin'. And she's a Krakosi. And I-"

"Hate them bastards," Cal, Fritz and Bert chorused with her.

After a laugh and a few grins, they returned home to eat a second breakfast. Another well-cooked meal with plenty of dishes full of mana-dense meats.

When Fritz was done eating, he took his leave, retiring to his room to continue to study the runic Technique within the red gem still set in the device. As usual, his progress was plodding, though his efforts weren't entirely in vain. Slowly, he was growing his understanding of the complex runes and the accompanying grammar. He could almost draw one of the more simple glyphs without having to look at the wall where it was emblazoned in lines of light.

Still, he knew he'd have to do more research, more nights spent in Wardbreaker's Den rather than sleeping or spending some precious time with Sylvia. He wished he had more avenues of acquiring the knowledge he needed to grasp the Technique and wondered if he should petition the King for access to the higher floors of the Royal Archives.

Fritz swiftly cut any such consideration away. He had barely survived his last brush with the Court and the King, he didn't want to be wading in those treacherous waters again, not so soon. Rather, he would exhaust his other paths first.

Yawning, he set down his quill and sought out Jess. He had some maps that he wanted reproduced. As the team's Quartermaster, this fell well within her duties. He found her in the Lounge, sitting on the couch and reading the Mist Technique scroll. Lauren was dozing, her head on Jess's lap. She was humming gently while she read.

It was a serene sight, and he hated to interrupt, but he also couldn't wait.

Fritz wasn't noticed until he cleared his throat. Both women jumped.

"Francis!" Jess cried, nearly dropping the bulky scroll.

"Fritz!" Lauren blurted. In her haste to sit up, she nearly drove her forehead into Jess's chin.

"Ladies, I'm sorry to bother the both of you. However, I have some tasks for our Quartermaster," Fritz said regretfully.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"I have some star maps I need copied, and I also wanted to charge you with the duty to acquire more help for the manor," Fritz said.

"Help, you mean servants?" she asked.

"Quite right," Fritz said. "And I will meet with them, then they will need to swear an oath to me before entering my employ."

"An oath?" Jess said, confusion flashing over her head. "Isn't that a little-"

"It's a little odd, yes," Fritz agreed. "Though you can just tell them I'm peculiar and particular."

"That won't be far from the truth," Lauren said sleepily, politely yawning behind her hand.

"Lauren, how unkind," Fritz chided gently.

"Sorry, Jess," she replied reflexively.

"I didn't say it, silly," Jess said softly. "Where are these maps?"

Fritz handed her the scroll cases in which they were contained.

"Is that all?" she asked. "Or do you have more tasks for me?"

"No, no more tasks. Though I do have a question," Fritz said.

"A question?" she asked with some trepidation.

"Yes. I was just wondering why you were reading that Technique scroll," Fritz said.

"Oh, well, Lauren fell asleep reading it, and I finished my own book. I thought it looked interesting," Jess provided easily.

"Did you find it an enjoyable read?" Lauren asked.

"I wouldn't say enjoyable, nor was it of any use," she said. "It's all about mana control, focusing on air and water, dispersing them so that they assume a misty shape. But, as you know, I have no mana."

Both Fritz and Lauren nodded, then they locked gazes, both thinking the same thoughts about convincing the woman to Climb.

Jess noticed. "Don't," she warned.

"Oh, Jess! It's not as horrifying as you imagine," Lauren entreated.

Fritz stepped back, cloaking himself in dusk and sliding away from the argument that was sure to ensue.

He made his way to the kitchen, searching for a swift snack as their voices picked up in volume.

There, he found Cal and Cassandra. They stood close together, poring over the Technique cookbook, signing their opinions on what to prepare for lunch and other observations.

Cal's hand signs came out smooth and clear. It was plain that he'd been practising. Cassandra's eyes shone when she stared into his face. The idiot didn't notice, he was more preoccupied with the recipes before him.

That was for the best. The girl, though likely only a year younger than Cal, was still without her Sanctum. Courting across such lines wasn't proper.

Although Fritz was used to spying, it felt wrong to watch his team, no matter how benign his intentions, or lack thereof.

He revealed himself with a heavy step, shrugging off his concealment. Cal turned, his expression one of surprise, then suspicion.

"What are you doing here, Fritz?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Fritz retorted.

"I'm the cook, I'm meant to be here," Cal stated.

"I'm the Lord, the whole house is my demesne," Fritz declared. They stared at each other for some moments before he continued, "and I am hungry."

"There's some rations in the pantry," he replied, his tone only slightly spiteful.

"Rations!? How cruel you are, Cal!" Fritz lamented.

Cassandra swiftly signed that there were also tasty morsels in the pantry, small cakes that had been baked a day prior.

"Cakes?" Fritz asked, slipping into hand signs.

"Right, there's cakes," Cal responded hesitantly. "You can have those."

"Who did you make them for?" Fritz asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Jess, Lauren... Ame," Cal replied, attempting to hide his blush.

"Ame?" Cassandra signed, her shoulders slouching almost imperceptibly.

"You've been visiting Ame and gifting her these sweet cakes?" Fritz asked, stretching his face with a sly smile.

"Not yet, the last batch was over-mixed, and didn't have enough butter," Cal replied. "They're not good enough."

"Oh, but they're good enough to gift to your Lord?" Fritz scoffed.

"Definitely," Cal stated.

"What are you all doing?" George asked, staring over the silent conversation while standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Discussing Cal's secret cakes," Fritz replied, leaning lazily on the wall.

"Secret cakes?" Rosie asked, barging her way in, followed by Bert. "Where?"

"In the pantry," Cassandra signed.

Rosie and Bert rushed toward the promise of sweets. Cal scowled. Fritz held his boastful smile for only a second before he realised that there were a small number of cakes and those two gluttons might not leave any for him.

He sped forward, unwilling to let his own desires be denied. "Scoundrels, leave some for me!"

---

Days passed, as did the nights. Although training was tiring, both in mind and body, the days weren't fraught with any peril or any incidents, which was a welcome relief. Eventually, all of the furniture had been moved into Hightide Manor, and four new servants had been found, interviewed and sworn in by Fritz.

One of these servants was a groundskeeper, this one far more respectable and proper than the previous. He was an older man who went by the name Mr. Till. He was greying and his fingers were stiff, but he was as hale as a horse otherwise.

Of the other three servants, two were maids, one, a broad, matronly woman who was all bustle, named Mrs. Blue. The other maid was a quiet, diligent type, a spindly woman in her thirties, who asked to be called Daisy. Though Mrs. Blue huffed something about pride and propriety, the team didn't much care for that and indulged her without question. Personally, Fritz thought she had an odd air, not untrustworthy, but somewhat forlorn.

The last of their household was a manservant. A chipper, leveled lad, who was eager to aid anywhere he could. His duties mostly comprised of running messages and errands, and suitably his name was Mr. Walker. Though he did profess he ran more than walked.

They had all sworn an oath of Fritz's own devising, one that he was sure would let him know if they betrayed his trust. If they thought it strange, not one of them said so.

Finally, all was in place, and on the third and last week of the month, Fritz hired a carriage and, with the help of his team, attempted to transfer the contents of the Climber house's Vault to the one in the centre of Hightide Manor. He had suspected that the moving of such wealth would leave it vulnerable and a perfect prize for any enterprising thief. However, they were through the Palace Ring gates in ten minutes, then arrival and subsequent unloading were finished before the hour was up.

No attempt had been made to rob them. Fritz found it suspicious, and the others called him paranoid, saying one would have to be mad to try to steal from a team of Climbers in the heart of Rain City and in full view of the Scale Guard.

"I would have attempted the feat," Fritz stated.

"You're proving their point, you're absolutely insane," Bert said, grinning ear to ear.

Fritz didn't deny it. Instead, he turned to his team, all of whom had gathered in the entrance hall.

"Welcome to Hightide Manor. Welcome to our new home."

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