Fritz left Adam after leading him to his new room. It was in an isolated corner of the west wing, as his tutor requested, and was bare of any comforts or furniture for that matter. A deficiency that would be remedied as soon as the drunk could make the proper arrangements.

As it was, he'd said he would survive with just his bedroll and the trunks he brought with him. Fritz didn't feel too bad about this, nor did he consider himself an ungracious host, as there were no fewer than seven such trunks. They were all of sturdy make, and the bedroll was one of the finest he'd ever seen, triple-stuffed with down, and seeming superbly supple and soft to the touch.

Adam was well prepared to relocate, too prepared, one might conclude. Though Fritz did have to concede that the man moved around enough that he had likely mastered the art of packing and passing through long ago.

After informing the servants, then telling the team and his siblings about the new addition to the household, he began preparing for his preordained Climb. He was raiding the pantry for rations and remedies, storing them away with the two stamina potions they had received from the alchemist sisters, when Bert cornered him.

"You're leaving?" Bert asked.

"Not tonight, but evening tomorrow," Fritz admitted.

"Without me?" he accused.

"Her orders," Fritz grumbled. "I argued, but she wouldn't listen."

Bert nodded, his grin strained.

"I was going to tell you, and everyone else-"

"After the feast?" Bert finished for him.

Fritz could only nod. "Didn't want to pull down the mood."

"Understandable," Bert said. Dale warbled from his shoulder in what could have been commiseration.

"Thanks, Dale," Fritz said.

"No thanks for me?" Bert asked, acting affronted.

Fritz shrugged. "Thanks, Bert."

He smiled. "You'll be fine. We survived in there before, and we were weak then. Now we're strong."

"Not strong enough," Fritz said. "And I'll be alone with a gang of thieves and thugs this time."

"Doesn't sound too different from our first Climb," Bert said.

"Again, you won't be by my side," Fritz said.

"You won't need me," Bert said.

"We both know that's not the case, but I will struggle on just the same," Fritz said.

Bert smiled sadly. "At least you won't get stabbed in the back. You'd sense it first."

"Ah, yes. A good point," Fritz said, mirroring the smile.

"So you'll be fine, as I said," Bert declared.

"And you will be here to keep everyone safe," Fritz stated. "You and Adam."

"Damn right," Bert boasted.

"That eases some of my worries, though not all," Fritz said. "Still, what else can I do?"

"Scheme to get stronger," Bert suggested.

"Oh, believe me, I'm scheming," Fritz said. "It just hasn't borne any fruit yet."

"I never doubted you," Bert stated, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Fritz smiled, and Bert, having said his piece, left for more enjoyable and exciting pursuits. Though there was the noticeable absence of a spring in his step.

And so the packing continued, weapons, tools and clothes from his closet along with his bedroll and thin pillow. Then it was to the vault to fill his Treasures and gather some gold for when they grew empty from use. He marked off his takings in the ledger, then grimaced at the thought of his still-standing debt to the crown.

Ten thousand gold. And they barely had one and half thousand in the vault. Not all had been willing to bet their whole fortunes on his victory and had won far less than he himself had.

Fortunately, Fritz had until the next Toll to pay the enormous sum. The extension was a kindness granted by His Majesty, likely due to his role in the humiliation of House Whiteship and his noble faction. Yet the debt loomed overhead like a burgeoning storm, dampening his triumph, true as the rain.

Two years. Plenty of time, he told himself.

Eventually, his preparations were interrupted by the light tinkling of a small bell hanging from his bedroom's wall. It was much softer than the one in the Climber house, this one a delightful chiming rather than a rude clanking. He knew that it was the signal that the feast was nearing readiness and that he should make his way down.

Fritz stood, quickly changed into something more presentable, then made his way to the dining room. It was a large rectangular space, lit by a chandelier, one made of brass and glass rather than the far more expensive gold and crystal. He had yielded to his desire and acquired this delight in attempt to dress his breakfasts, dinners and lunches in some small splendour. As befitted his rank.

Below the glittering lights, in the room's centre was a long, sturdy table of wood, more practical than ornate, and flanked by solid chairs of the same blocky design.

Fritz found he was the last to arrive, and he was chastised and chided for it as he made his way down the long table. He smiled his sorrys as he glanced over his team's attire. They were wearing their finest, he was sure, as each was garbed in their sirensilk. The men displayed shining shirts under vests or coats, while the women were resplendent in their respective gowns and dresses.

Elliot and Thea were also dressed well, though their finery wasn't of sirensilk and appeared to be of older make and a little ill-fitting.

Fritz supposed they had found some store of his parents' outfits, as he keenly remembered the dark blue gown his sister wore as one of his mother's favourites. The subtle floral patterns woven through the fabric were cruelly nostalgic, so much so that it nearly brought tears to his eye. Yet it was fitting that she had claimed it, just as Elliot had one of father's stiff, dark suits.

Adam had seen fit to join the feast as well, looking as fancy as anyone had ever seen him in an outfit of grey and silver. He'd even tamed his uneven, greying beard and hair.

Fritz took his rightful place at the head of the table, then Cal bustled in from the kitchen, taking his own place next to Jess, who was in a lovely dress of white patterned with light blue birds. The man smiled like a fool, then surreptitiously combed his hair with his fingers.

Cassandra, Daisy, Ms. Blue and Mr. Walker followed out from the kitchen after a minute. They bore stacked platters, bottles of wine, and pitchers of fruit juice and fresh water. The table was swiftly set with all manner of food and drink, and glasses were quickly filled, but nothing was touched. Instead, even though all was ready, the table looked to Fritz.

They obviously expected some sort of speech, or perhaps a poem, from their Lord and Captain.

He couldn't disappoint them.

Fritz stood, raised his glass, then spoke,

"Welcome, my fellows, my family, my friends.

Your favour's a fortune only an idiot spends.

You've cherished me plenty, and I'll cherish you more.

But let's not count those blessings, because I won't keep the score.

I hold you each dear and close to the heart,

so I'll not keep you long, for this feast we must start!"

He ended his toast and drank down his glass, and after some cheers and hear-hears, the table followed in kind. Once he sat, and all focus was turned to the food, the feast began in earnest.

It was wonderful.

Fritz ate as much of the delectable fare as he could, knowing that it would be his last good meal for some time.

Fried fish and seared rain-ox meat were aplenty as were red-roast sausages, squid pies and steamed vegetables. And much to Bert's delight there was almost a gallon of hearty gravy.

It could be considered the food of commoners, as there were no intricate or delicate dishes, but there were no complaints from any in attendance. On the contrary, for Cal and his helpers, there was only praise. Which he handled as well as any could expect, turning as scarlet as one of the sausages when Jess complimented him with a close whisper.

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Lauren frowned and looked away pointedly from the display, drank what was left in her wineglass and refilled it nearly to the brim. Elliot attempted to converse with her, having been captivated by her beauty and her deep blue sirensilk gown, but was met with her ember ringed stare, a polite smile and silence.

He gulped and instead began to speak with George on what seemed to be their favourite subject, swords and swordplay. Rosie and Bert were being as boisterous as usual, and after more than a few mugs of ale, Adam began telling tales of Spire's outside of Rain City.

Thea was mostly quiet, watching and adding a comment here or there as it pleased her. As the food duly disappeared and the drink was swiftly supped, the table fell into low, slightly, or surely, drunken conversations.

By the end, no one was in their original seats, as they each had traded places throughout the feast. Fritz found himself between his siblings, arms around each of them, revelling in their reunion.

"We're under the same roof again. What a joy. I never thought I'd be so fortunate," he said sloppily. He shivered from the dull, stinging cold of his bones as they fought off his well-earned inebriation.

"Francis, stop," Elliot mumbled, hazy-eyed. "You're embarrassing."

"I love my brothers," Thea said, then hiccuped. She hugged him and rubbed her face on Fritz's sirensilk shirt. "This one's so smooth."

"Come on, you lot," Adam called out. "Move along to the lounge so the servants can clean up."

There was a chorus of agreements, and with the scraping of chairs, they began to wander out, bottles, glasses and mugs in hand. Fritz stood slowly, gracefully, and his sister stumbled to her feet. She had overindulged in the white wine as he had warned her not to. He decided to take her to her room so she could rest.

"I can take her," Elliot offered.

"Nonsense, go have fun," Fritz said, waving him away.

"Alright," he agreed, smiling.

"Oh, no," Adam said. "You have training tomorrow. To bed with you, Elliot."

"What?" he protested. "Why just me?"

"The others have Attributes. You don't," Adam said. "And they'll be miserable in the morning. I'll make sure of it."

"Oh," Elliot said. "Alright." He yawned wide.

Adam bade them goodnight and set upon returning to his room.

Fritz pulled his sister along, out of the dining room and up the stairs, followed by Elliot, who split off when they reached the door of his room.

"Francis?" Elliot asked.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I don't like how you did it, and I haven't fully forgiven you for... for before. But you did it. You got us home, thank you," Elliot said.

Fritz nodded solemnly, then patted his brother on the shoulder. While he didn't accept that the man's grudge was righteous, he did accept it existed in Elliot's mind, and he didn't want to fight.

Not now, not while things were good.

"Thank you, Francis," Thea echoed groggily.

Fritz waved to his brother, then hurried along to Thea's room, where he sat her on her bed. She shooed him away and out as she pulled at her dress's collar, so he left her with a "Goodnight," which she returned softly.

He was walking down a hall when a shiver of warning went down Fritz's spine. He noticed some things out of place. One of the windows was ajar, and there, on the floor, were the wet lines of boot prints on the floorboards.

From what he could tell from his training with Therima, the distance between the tracks meant they were left by someone tall. Though not quite as tall as himself, he deduced.

The prints faded with each step he followed, and they were heading toward the master bedroom. The impression of danger dissipated. If he had guessed correctly, he knew who the intruder was and welcomed their visit.

Fritz affected a drunken, staggering gait, wandering into his room while humming to himself. He unbuttoned his coat, pulled it off and threw it lazily.

"Oh, how I wish Sylvia were here," he said loudly. "What a delight it would be to sweep her into my arms and to press her close."

The cloaked figure in the corner shuffled awkwardly. Fritz ignored her.

"I miss her so keenly, her absence is a wound on my soul," he continued. "Her love is a salve to my-"

"Fritz, cut it out," Sylvia blurted, stepping forward.

He jumped and cried out, "Ahh! An invader!" He pretended to fumble with his sheathed blades and instead unbuckled them, letting them fall to the floor.

She stared at him, then blinked. "What are you doing?"

Fritz smiled self-assuredly. "Giving you a chance to live, intruder."

Sylvia rolled her bright, blue eyes, but was grinning. "Fool."

"Beauty," he replied easily.

She snorted, then strode up to him, "You're drunk."

"Merely tipsy," he rebutted. "These cold, cold bones of mine won't let me get truly drunk."

"Should you really have had so much to drink when you have to Climb tomorrow?"

"You heard about that?" Fritz asked most of his mirth, and his acted inebriation falling away.

"Yeah. She mentioned it," Sylvia said.

"Not here to keep an eye on me for her, are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nope," she said simply, shrugging off his paranoia.

"Then why have you come?" he asked, sitting down on his bed.

"To see you. Why else?" she said, frowning.

"Oh," Fritz said.

They were silent for some moments before Fritz patted the mattress, "Join me?"

She did, though she doffed her cloak first. Sitting, Sylvia leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around him. His chest bubbled with warmth and joy, though it was smothered by his worry.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm afraid," Fritz readily admitted. "It's the Sunken Spire. It was terrible. We only barely survived it, remember?"

"I remember," she said. "I wouldn't want to Climb it again, if I had the choice."

Fritz sighed, "Unfortunately, I have no such choice."

"But you're stronger now. And, well, seeing as you will be Climbing with strangers, if it gets too perilous, you could simply hide or escape," she said.

"Leave the other Climbers to die?" Fritz asked, the thought having not occurred to him. The idea left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Without needing to guide and protect me and Bert, you could have snuck past most of the beasts and all of the traps," she added. "It would be the same with them."

"That seems rather... callous," Fritz said.

"Maybe. But they'd do the same to you," Sylvia stated.

Fritz grimaced, though he knew she was right.

"And if you find some who are trustworthy, who wouldn't abandon you. You could send them to the Refuge," she continued. "We need all the help we can get."

Fritz nodded. More allies would help, especially if he were ever to get out from under the Nightshark's thumb. He could eventually need an army of his own, in time.

Sylvia reached up to one of his shirt buttons and rolled it between her fingers, then gave him an eager smile. His heartbeat hastened and his blood heated. He lowered his lips to hers and they shared a brief kiss, then a longer one. She began to unbutton his shirt and he returned the favour.

They were both more than half naked when Bert bounded into the room.

"Fritz!" he shouted, "You should tell the team you're leaving."

Sylvia quickly covered herself with a discarded shirt, and Fritz glared at the smugly smiling man.

"Hello, Sid," Bert said casually. "Good to see you."

"Likewise," she said, unembarrassed, though annoyed at the interruption.

"I'm busy at the moment. You can tell them in my stead," Fritz said. "I'll explain more in the morning."

"Hmm, alright," Bert said. "Don't stay up too late."

With a grin, then a spin, he left.

With shakes of their heads, Fritz and Sylvia smiled at each other and resumed their affections.

---

Fritz awoke to the chime of the bell. He sat up slowly, and Sylvia groaned.

"What's that noise?" she grumbled.

"Breakfast," Fritz said, then yawned.

"So early? It's not even dawn," she complained.

"We have training," he explained. "And it's best to have some food in you to make the best of it. Want to join us?"

Sylvia sat up, stretched, then shook her head. "Maybe some other time. But can you do me a favour?"

"I thought I already did," Fritz teased. "Many times, in fact."

She threw a pillow at him, which he ducked easily. She glared, but it was more bashful than angry.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Another writ for the Refuge," she said. "Now that the ownership of the lands have passed to you, we need your permissions."

Fritz nodded. "I'll have Jess write something up and have Bert deliver it when it's ready."

"Could you also hold off on collecting the rent?" she asked, uneasily. "We're still repairing."

Fritz tilted his head, then frowned. He had forgotten that he would be due rent from his lands. It felt... wrong. He was the one who dodged rents, not demanded it.

He nodded, agreeing. Fritz could wait until the residents of the Refuge were on their feet before pressing them for any recompense. What could he hope for before that, anyway? A sack full of copper and silver? What possible use would he have for that? He needed gold.

"Thank you, Fritz," Sylvia said.

"You're welcome," Fritz said. "Keep them safe, won't you?"

She nodded, then shuffled close to him. He embraced her on instinct and was late to breakfast.

---

At the Tallmast training hall, Fritz announced his need to leave.

To his surprise, not even Adam admonished him; Bert had done a fine job making excuses. And those who knew the deeper truth of the Sunken Spire and the Nightshark knew better than to berate him for something he couldn't control. They only questioned how long he'd be away and if he'd be safe.

He wouldn't be, but he reassured them that he would be all the same.

They couldn't speak long on the subject, Mathew had chosen to attend this day, though he was late as usual. Then they were also joined by the temple warrior Brother Koral and the Krakosi Therima.

Training was a hard struggle, made all the worse by the slight hangover and lack of sleep. Though he was happy that his heart hadn't squirmed even once through all his exertions. A sure sign that he was recovering well from his deadly poisoning.

While he rested after a some sit ups, he asked each of his instructors if they had heard of Craig's mind map trick. Both Adam and Therima had said no, though his tutor did say it sounded like an extension or manipulation of Memory.

"Like a Pattern?" Fritz asked.

"Perhaps," Adam admitted.

"I thought you said Base Attributes don't have patterns," Fritz accused.

"They don't," Adam stated. "But Epsa is large and its mysteries are many. Though it's probably a Technique. I believe all your channels are full, are they not?"

"They are," Fritz said.

"Then you can't learn it," Adam stated. "Trying will only give you a splitting headache."

Fritz sighed, which caused his tutor to smile in commiseration.

After the lessons ended and they had returned to the manor, Adam took Fritz aside and handed him a small vial. It was filled with thick red liquid and could only be a healing potion.

"I can't take this," Fritz protested.

"You will take it. As a precaution," Adam insisted. "When you Climb, you should each have one, then one to spare held by your Healer or Enhancer."

Fritz hesitated for only a moment before accepting the life-saving gift.

With that, his tutor dismissed him.

As Fritz returned to his preparations and packing, he received more gifts.

George had given him some oil that would blacken his moonsilver breastplate; Cal had baked him some 'superior rations' made of mana-dense meats and vegetables; Jess had handed him a blank journal, a bottle of ink and a quill. Seemingly, someone, likely Lauren as she was not beholden to any curse, had informed her of the nature of his absence.

"The secret's safe with me," she had said. "Be careful and come back."

Bert continued to lend Fritz the Amulet of Repose, which he accepted gratefully. It was a wondrous Treasure.

With a shark's smile, Rosie pushed a braided cord into his hands, saying it was for good luck. Lauren's addition was more pragmatic; she bought him some Door-dowsers so as not to get lost. While he didn't think he'd need them, he still thanked her as he had all of his team.

Their support warmed him and made him more sure of his success and certain return.

Thea and Elliot hadn't been informed of the why, but they also bade him farewell, saying that it would be an easy task to sow the rumour of his prolonged illness and whispered poisoning. He hugged them both close.

Eventually, he was ready, his traveller's pack stacked to the brim with all he could conceivably need. He wore his breastplate, now a dull grey-black rather than bright silver and his old, mended leathers.

He had hoped that he would have enough time to get a set of shark skin armour made, but he hadn't yet commissioned an armourer for its creation. That was high on his list for when he returned.

He belted his Eelkin Belt and buckled his two blades to it, then he threw his crossbow's strap over his shoulder and added a quiver of bolts to join his sword and dagger at his waist.

Fritz double-checked, then triple-checked his gear. When he was satisfied, sure he hadn't forgotten anything important, he stared into his mirror.

His reflection stared hard, cold eyes back at him. He was not the same starving boy that had entered the Sunken Spire first time. Now he was more than well equipped, and he'd grown immeasurably in power, skill and knowledge.

There wasn't anything to fear.

"I'm ready. Back to the Sunken Spire."

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