The expression on Olivia's face would probably primarily be identified as "confused" by most people, but I feel it is better represented by the phrase "are you kidding me?" Simple confusion fails to convey the sense of wasted time and the raging internal debate on whether I should be cut apart by her minions right then or some time later.

  My heart pounded hard against my chest, so it felt prudent to defend myself. "For starters, as I'm sure you're well aware, Varys' death was a boon for your organization. There's no need to be actively raiding the countryside and attracting attention when you have such a sophisticated operation here."

  Olivia raised an eyebrow at me without removing the indignation from her face. "You think you know how to run a criminal enterprise?"

  "Certainly not better than you," I said, "But probably better than Varys."

  She accepted this, somewhat. Or, maybe more accurately, she deigned not to question it. It was vaguely true, if a little oversimplified; focusing their efforts directly in Beorne and their behind-the-scenes operations let them make a lot more money with a lot less risk.

  The problem was that Varys was a figurehead of ill enough repute that merely knowing he was in the organization put a lot of conflicts to rest before they started. His death meant that more remote members of the Blood God Bandits thought they had an opportunity to gain power, and it meant that other organizations saw them as weakened and pressed in on their territory. Olivia had her hands full dealing with all of that, even if in the long term Varys' literal banditry was a liability.

  "Secondly," I continued while holding up a couple of fingers, "you have six men in the same prison complex as Drifter, so you have reason to go anyways. My information can help you get them out."

  In response she scoffed at me. "You think I'm going to risk a bunch of lives to get some low-level lackeys out?"

  "No, but I suspect you might for your right-hand man. It turns out Marchon is in the same complex as Drifter and the others. Same hallway as Drifter, in fact, just not stuck in the oubliette."

  Olivia leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. Marchon managed a lot of their relationships with contacts outside Beorne, and his capture a few weeks earlier was worse for their flow of money than Varys' death. They couldn't move goods without people to move them to.

  She was a bit suspicious of me, though. I was a scholar, this was well known and could be confirmed at a glance, but I had learned where their hidden base was, learned where their captured men were, and knew enough about their operations to apply pressure on the right points. "How could you possibly know all this?"

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  "I have my own conspiracies going on, thank you very much." The doubtful look I received pressed me on. "The guard captain, Even, and his assistant dragged me into a scheme of theirs so I've been taking advantage of my increased clearance to plan Drifter's escape."

  "What scheme?"

  "Probably best if I don't say. Nothing to do with you, though. They know a lot about you guys, though. Not how to get here, that needed my own legwork, but still, stay safe, I guess."

  "Hmm."

  I figured the conversation was going well, less because of my ability to convince Olivia to help me and more because I was still alive. Somehow my nerves hadn't hit me until I entered her office, but at this point in the conversation my heart lurched at my rib cage every time she spoke up.

  As it did when she finished her thinking. "You said your information can get our people out. Do you have a way in or out of the prison?"

  I had a lot of information, but not quite that. "Not directly, no. I might know enough for someone more skilled to put together a plan, but I can't do it myself."

  "Then I doubt we can do this in time to save your friend. The execution is in a couple days, right?" I nodded. "Honestly, springing one guy we hate to save a few guys we like isn't a bad trade. But we're not in a state where we can do that. We look good here, but you guys killing Varys caused all sorts of chaos that we're still wrangling. Without an easy way into the prison it'd be a whole operation that needs a lot of our people, especially the smarter ones. It'll take time."

  "So that's a no?"

  "That's a no for what we're working with. If his execution is delayed a month to give us prep time or you have a clear way in for us... maybe." Olivia shrugged, her eyes trying to gauge whether I was capable of resolving the problem.

  It was not. At least not immediately. "It's unlikely, for sure, but if I do... do I just come back?"

  "Yeah, I'm mostly stuck here, I'll let the guys know you're a friend. Not that they seem to care either way." I didn't like the concept of being a friend of bandits. She looked me up and down and added "You know what? You're welcome back even if you don't figure it out. I had fun."

  I was confused, but nodded and thanked her. I chalked it up to criminals having a different mindset altogether.

  Oddly, my way out was met by congratulations and pats on the back - apparently my survival was not considered a likely outcome. I was even stopped by the supervisor who directed me to Olivia's office, a man who called himself Barrels, who told me "I thought I'd be carrying you out in a rug, good job!" And when I questioned why he let me through, he kindly informed me that I "don't look like a threat, like come on."

  I left the hideout with an odd number of assurances that I could come back any time, to use the back door, here's a token to show the guards, and so on. The friendliness of the bandits was bizarre.

  Regardless, I was left with a few options on how to move forward. I could find a way in to the prison for Olivia's men, I could pursue legal options to delay the execution, and I had a last resort of sorts: develop a plan to spring Drifter from the execution platform in front of the whole city. I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.