Fritz felt the small stone shake again, pulled toward some unknown place. He grimaced. He had hoped he had some time to settle into his new home and to be able to enjoy its comforts for at least a night.

It was not to be.

"What's got you so sour?" Rosie asked.

"I have been called. And so I have to answer," Fritz replied, emanating a hint of Dusksong to add an air of mystery.

"What?"

"Nevermind," Fritz said. "If you see another similar bird, I would prefer it if you wouldn't shriek about it."

"I didn't use my Piercing Shriek," she said. "It would have been much louder if I had."

"And I wecome your restraint. However, simply seek Bert or I out if it happens again," Fritz requested.

"Alright."

Fritz left her, then sought out Bert. He found him in the training hall, sparring with Elliot, his fists and flesh being tested against the steel of a rapier. He weaved between cuts and thrusts, not letting the blunt blade touch him.

Though it seemed to be a mostly friendly bout, there was a decidedly malicious bent to Elliot's strikes and vengeful light in his eyes. He fended off a series of jabs with well-practised parries and avoided a kick by a timely leap backward.

"Come on! You can do better than that," Bert taunted, grinning smugly.

Elliot clenched his jaw and swung with more ferocity, which only allowed Bert to get close enough to catch the wrist of his sword hand and twist it sharply. The training blade fell to the floor with a clatter, joined by a thump as Elliot himself was swept from his feet with a trip throw.

"The bout goes to Bert," George announced.

"As I knew it would. It was a fine attempt, but you stood no chance," Bert boasted, holding out a hand for the Elliot to take.

He grasped it begrudgingly. "Only because of your Attributes and your stupid Technique, if not for that, I'd have bested you easily," he groused.

"Maybe," Bert said, more graciously than was truly deserved. "We'll see once you've Climbed a Spire. Too bad that by then I'll be a Journeyman, you'll never catch up to Fritz and I."

"No, likely not," Elliot muttered.

"What's that?"

"Nevermind." Elliot sighed.

"What's wrong?" George asked.

"Oh, nothing much. I was just reflecting on those duels," Elliot said, his mood one of muddled awe and resignation. "I've never seen anyone who fought like that. It was as if Francis knew his foe's attacks in advance. Even the practice against Lord Tallmast couldn't account for the sheer dominance he displayed. He completely outclassed Lord Whiteship. It was like they were performing a dance, but only Francis knew the steps. It was... eerie. How could I match that kind of skill?"

"It wasn't skill," Fritz said, striding into their midst. "Well, not just skill, I should say," he added modestly. "I have a Sense that lets me feel any peril before it strikes me. And if I know where I'm about to be struck, then I can avoid it. Most of the time."

"And he's always been as slippery as an eel," Bert added.

"Ah, so its magic is it?" Elliot asked. "A power like our father's?"

"Correct," Fritz said. "I can teach you about it, though that will have to come later. I have other affairs that are in need of my attention."

Elliot nodded, though the motion was tinged with disappointment.

"Bert, I require your advice," Fritz said. "Speak with me for a moment."

"Alright, I was done with the spar anyway," Bert replied. "George, you take over for me."

George nodded.

Fritz left the training hall, and Bert followed. Steel clanged behind them.

"What's this about? Did something happen?" he asked.

"I was summoned by her," Fritz said, striding through the overgrown, mistreated garden. He tried to ignore the many sick and shrivelled stalks and bushes that should have been flowering. The attempt was futile. The longer he stayed, the more he saw, and the more sorrow and fury he accumulated.

"Alright, " Bert said. "Then go."

"I am, I just thought it would be good for someone to know where I had gone," Fritz explained. "In case I am missed."

"Very little chance of that", Bert stated. "Honestly, a bit more missing would do us all some good."

"Your words wound me," Fritz said, his tone as bland as beige. "However, as I am leaving, I would have you maintain a certain air of secrecy about my whereabouts. No need to speak on my movements."

"Fritz, have a little faith. I know better than to tell everyone you're away on some deadly errand," Bert said.

"I know. I just worry," Fritz admitted.

"Well, don't," Bert said.

"Not so simple, I'm afraid." Fritz sighed. "We still have foes. Both hidden and seen. We can't lower our guard."

Bert grinned. "I never have." He punched the air in a swift sequence. "You have to remember who saved you from the false healer."

Fritz smiled. "I don't know, the memory is blurry, muddled. Though I remember green scales, surely it must have been Sir Quinn who came to my aid?"

"That idiot?" Bert scoffed. "He would have let the assassin escape if not for my heroic intervention. Then he accused me of murder, if you can believe it."

"You did murder the assassin. Justly so, I might add," Fritz said.

"Hardly counts, I was defending my lord," Bert declared.

"Any trouble likely to come of that?"

"Of what?"

"The murder."

"What? No. Or at least I haven't heard anything of the sort," Bert said.

"Good. Good. The last thing we need is more problems with the guard, be it storm or scale," Fritz said.

"True as the rain," Bert agreed.

Fritz made his way to the estate's wall in the general direction the Nightshark's token was guiding him. He said a quick farewell to Bert, donned his cloak of dusk and swiftly scaled the stone brick surface.

Though shade was more sparse in the Palace Ring than it was in both the Upper and Sunken rings, Fritz kept to the shadows as much as he could. He wanted to avoid the watchful eyes of the infrequent, yet diligent patrols of the Scale Guard. This led him to take shelter under the canopies of trees or the various monuments that stood in the parks, or under awnings that hung over the secluded boutiques and salons.

The stone pulled, and Fritz let it show him the path. Eventually, it brought him into a large garden, one appointed and maintained by the crown, ostensibly for the enjoyment of the human-strain nobility. He was led deeper into the lush garden, right to an enclosed pavilion. The wood was pale, faded from age, and its varnish had begun to peel away.

Fritz circled the small structure until he found a door. He tried the handle and found it wasn't locked.. After a swift glance at his surroundings and a painful pulse of Awareness, he made sure that he was alone. Knowing he was unobserved, he opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Though it was well hidden, it only took Fritz a moment to discover the trapdoor below his feet.

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Door Sense, more than anything, had revealed the hatch and the way to open it. He hooked his finger into a small hole in a wooden plank and pulled. Hinges creaked. It was obvious from the rust and dust that the trapdoor hadn't seen much use of late. Below him was a hole, one of that same smooth stone the tunnels beneath the Sunken Ring were. He wondered just how far-reaching the winding web was.

"Get down here. Stop wasting my time," a voice growled.

Startled as he was, Fritz recognised the voice instantly. Craig.

There he was, down in the dark, lurking.

"Why are you here?" Fritz demanded.

"To show you the way. Why else would I be here, awaiting his Lordship?" he said, sneering with all his distilled disdain.

Fritz noticed the cutthroat had lost a tooth recently. The sight almost made him smile.

"Yes, but why you? Aren't you too busy to be leading me around?" he asked.

"'Cause I'm one of the only ones who knows all the tunnels up here," Craig said.

"Lots of tunnels up here are there?"

"Maybe. Anyway, you're late."

"My apologies," Fritz said, not meaning it and not bothering to hide the fact.

"Save your apologies, just get down here," Craig ordered. He coughed, it was a harsh rasping sound.

"Are you ill?" Fritz asked, hiding his glee. "I'm not going to catch anything, am I?"

"You'll catch a dagger in the heart if you don't hurry," Craig growled.

Fritz did hurry, using the small handholds set into the hole's wall to climb down.

"This way," Craig said once he had reached the bottom.

"I have the stone. Why is it that I need you?" Fritz asked.

"Is it still shaking?" Craig replied.

Fritz shook his head. "No."

"That's why."

They didn't speak further. Instead, Fritz followed silently, attempting to remember what he could of the twists and turns that the evil prick in front of him navigated unerringly. He wished he were able to learn that man's mind map trick. It would be a real boon both inside and outside the Spires. He decided to ask him on the way out, perhaps trade something for the knowledge.

After nearly half an hour of walking through the dark, damp tunnels, Fritz finally recognised some of the stone. They were close to the harem, but Craig led him away from the hint of sweet perfumes and straight into the Nightshark's throne room. It seemed she wasn't bothering with trying to tempt him today.

There, lying on her clam-styled couch, surrounded as it was by a moat, was the Nightshark. She sat up slowly, wincing as she did so. Her back straightened, and she set her blood red eyes on Fritz's own.

She motioned him forward as a bridge of shark backs rose from the watery depths around her. Fritz obeyed, stepping lightly on the beasts, then onto the stone island. He bowed, and she beckoned him closer. He did so.

"Lord Hightide," she began, her voice quiet and controlled. "I have a task for you."

"Yes?"

"I require you to start fulfilling your duties as a Scout," she said, her gaze pained but pointed.

"What am I to do?"

"Climb, lead a team up my Spire," she ordered.

"Tonight?"

"Tomorrow night," she said.

"Who am I leading?"

"A collection of some of the more useful thugs and thieves," she explained.

"How many?"

She frowned. "You're too full of questions."

"My apologies."

She sighed, bringing her hand to her head and massaging her temple with a thumb.

"Are you not well?" Fritz endeavoured, attempting an appearance of compassion.

"I'm not," she stated. "And it could be considered your fault, Francis."

There was a flash of light within the moat's depths, and the Nightshark closed her eyes tight. She exhaled.

Her weakness was apparent, as was her pain. In that moment, Fritz briefly considered drawing Mortal Edge and planting it in her scaled throat. It could be his greatest chance to harm her, perhaps kill her, be rid of her and her curse. Something in his eyes or expression gave him away because her talons were less than an inch away from his own throat before he could decide to act.

"Don't make me waste you," she stated coldly. "I hate waste."

Again, an arc of blue-white sparked beneath the water. The Nightshark's hand twitched, though not enough for her nails to cut his skin. She blinked slowly.

Fritz could guess at what was troubling the woman. That light and her pain were connected. He could even tentatively sense a thin, jagged thread between her and what lay below the shallow waves. A bond, a beast bond if what he suspected were true. He turned his head slowly, staring into the moat.

There he saw the beast, a one-foot-long eel with scales in shades of storm clouds.

"The aberrant eel's egg," Fritz said. "You hatched it?"

"Clearly it is so," she said brusquely. "Don't ask such foolish questions."

"My apologies," Fritz said. "Though, may I ask you to remove your lovely nails from my throat. Or is that another foolish question?"

He smiled, he hoped it was charming rather than irksome.

She tilted her head, considering, then pulled her hand back to lay at her side.

"You will be prepared to Climb tomorrow night," the Nightshark stated.

"What about Bert?" Fritz asked.

"Bert?"

"I won't Climb without him," Fritz declared.

"You will Climb without him," she commanded.

"I refuse," Fritz argued.

The Nightshark's face twisted with fury.

Ghostly agony split Fritz's chest and tore into his heart, then the sensation stopped. Her taloned hand was splayed in the centre of his chest. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his blood pounded in his ears.

"Refusal is death," she hissed. "I will pluck out your heart and feed it to my sweetling, stormling eel if you oppose my will, boy. Do you hear me? "

Fritz nodded.

"Good. You will Climb, as I have ordered," she repeated.

"My absence will be noticed and remarked upon. What do I tell my household, my team, my family?" Fritz asked.

"A cunning lie. A sordid tale. Aren't you said to be a skilled spinner of such falsehoods?" she suggested disinterestedly. "Say your poisoning has left you weak and sickly. That you have periods of convalescence in which you refuse to be seen and are bedridden."

"You know about that?" Fritz asked with some alarm.

"Of course I do," she said, her disdain clear. "The court won't stop whispering about it."

"The Court?" Fritz asked.

"The King's Court. What, you think I only have eyes and ears in the gutters? Are you truly so naive?"

Fritz hadn't assumed that. He was sure the Nightshark was well-connected, likely a noble herself. One he hadn't yet met. Why she bothered with the gutters at all was the true mystery. Though he suspected the presence of the Sunken Spire was the true reason she did so.

He shook his head. "No. I just didn't know that the event of my near-death was known so widely."

"It is not known, it is but a rumour. Use that as you will," she said. "Now go."

Fritz bowed, then turned. He was about to step when he noticed the sharks were no longer in place. Instead, they circled deep beneath the water. Glancing backward, Fritz met the Nightshark's eyes.

"Go," she ordered, smiling venomously.

Fritz matched her smile, diving into the moat. After a small swim, he was pulling himself onto the cold stone. He cursed the evil woman in his heart. Fritz risked a glare, and when he beheld the striking woman, he underwent a second of double vision. Overlapping memories clashed in a rush of colour and sound. Then it was gone. Left in the wake of the sudden clamour was a biting pain in his head and a stinging cold over his chest.

Fritz swiftly rose, then strode away, hiding his sudden distress.

Craig grinned when he saw his soaked, sorry-looking state. Fritz let him enjoy it for now. It would make his own vengeance all the sweeter.

"Displease the boss?" Craig gloated.

Fritz feigned wounded pride, tilting his chin arrogantly and holding his tongue.

"Heh," Craig choked out a chuckle that stretched into a cough.

"Lead the way. And teach me the mind map while you do," Fritz said.

"Why should I do that?" he croaked.

"I'll find you something for your ailment," Fritz offered.

"No need. I'll just go to one of our Healers," Craig said.

"Then what do you want?" Fritz asked with no little exasperation.

"Uhhh. How about that dagger you got there?" he bargained.

"No."

Craig scowled. "Fine. What else you got?"

Fritz shrugged. "Gold?"

"Nah."

"How about a curious set of runes?" Fritz offered.

"You want to trade me something I have to study? Piss off," he spat.

Fritz held back a sigh. "Nevermind then."

With a bargain left unstruck, Craig led him through the tunnels. Fritz observed the man, attempting to glean anything he could of the trick. His focus was for nought. It was an entirely mental exercise and there was nothing he could read in the man's demeanour.

Soon, Fritz gave up the effort and tried instead to memorise the route they were taking. This was mildly successful. Another half an hour later, he was climbing out of the trapdoor through which he had entered the tunnels. From there, he stealthily returned to his manor. As he strode from shadow to shadow, he contemplated what he should do about his 'task'.

Fritz considered simply refusing first, then he remembered the Nightshark's terrible, painful talons and the certain death they held. There was also the possibility of great fortune to be found, more Techniques and Treasures to be added to his vault. Still, he couldn't consider Climbing with strangers to be desirable. He wanted to Climb with his own team. People he could trust.

In the end, he knew he would have to go through with the Climb, returning to that awful Spire. This time, however, he was prepared. Fritz wondered how he would fare against any of the beasts he had fought before, or rather, how they would now fare against him. He imagined great triumphs, felling goblins and hounds by the score.

Would he find another Hidden Door? One that led back into the land of fairies?

As he scaled his manor's wall, he put those thoughts out of his mind. They could be addressed later. For now, he would have to inform Bert and his team of what had transpired. He decided to tell them after their feast. Already, he could smell the foods being prepared and didn't want to spoil any appetites they may have with his bad news.

He was making his way to his room when he was intercepted by Daisy, one of the new maids.

"Lord, there's a Sir Needle here to see you," she said with a willowy curtsy.

"Ah, is he?" Fritz asked. "Is he at the door or did you let him in?"

"I led him to the grand lounge. I hope that was adequate," she replied.

"Very adequate, he should always be treated as a welcome guest," Fritz stated. "I'll go see him now. Bring him tea if you would."

"That has already been seen to, Lord," she said.

"Good, then you are dismissed for now," Fritz said, waving her away. He changed directions, heading to where Adam was situated.

When he entered the room, it was to some small chatter. Elliot and Jess, Lauren, Thea and George were also present. They were conversing about swordplay and other exotic martial Techniques Adam had seen or clashed with on his adventures outside of Rain City.

Fritz listened for a while, wondering what his tutor wanted. There was an anxious edge to the man's demeanour, one that had him barking out his laugh a little too loud.

Slipping off his cloak of dusk, Fritz cleared his throat. Only his siblings startled. His team were too used to his sudden appearances to be surprised. It was a shame they were so inured, he had so delighted in his little tricks.

Adam stood and bowed low, which was overly formal for the mountain of a man. Immediately, Fritz suspected some scheme. Then he remembered who he was dealing with; Sir Needle's plans were as straight as his namesake.

"Lord Hightide, I would speak with you in private," he said.

"Very well, Sir Needle," Fritz said. "Follow me."

Adam did, and Fritz led him to the study. There they sat opposite one another.

"What did you want to speak about?" Fritz asked.

"Well, about that," Adam said, a hint of nervousness about him. "I have to ask of you a favour."

"A favour? Of course, I would do that and more," Fritz said magnanimously. "What do you need?"

Adam coughed. "I currently find myself in need of accommodation. My current living arrangements have become...untenable."

"I see," Fritz said, sitting back in his chair. "I thought you said you didn't dare live with a bunch of young Climbers. You said you what? Valued your sanity?"

"I did say that," Adam admitted easily. "And I do value my sanity. But in a house this big, it would be easy to avoid the sight or sounds of your youthful exuberances. Give me a room in some tucked-away corner. I'll even offer you a reduction in my tutor fees."

Fritz pretended to think it over, just to watch the man squirm a little. It was fair vengeance for all the torment the man inflicted during training. In all honesty, he had already agreed to Adam's request in both mind and heart. It would be good to have such a powerful, knowledgeable man around. He would bring much in the way of safety and perhaps sensibility.

"What has made your previous arrangements untenable?" Fritz asked.

Adam shook his head. "That's a personal, private affair."

Fritz didn't want to pry; if his tutor said it was personal, he believed him.

"Very well, welcome to the household."

Sir Needle grinned.

"My thanks, Lord Hightide."

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