The lobby to the Climber’s Union hadn’t changed in the last week. The only real difference was that rather than the young redhead he’d spoken to last time, now there was a portly middle-aged man who had too much fat hanging off his jowls to pull off the jawline beard he was sporting. It just looked like someone had drawn a line of hair across a ball.

  “Union card,” the man demanded in a pretentious, nasally tone.

  “I don’t have one,” Sorin explained. “I’d like to apply to join.”

  “Thirty danirs,” the attendant said, heaving a great, put-upon sigh as he reached under the counter and pulled out a small stack of papers. “Dues for the first month must be paid upon signing. Five danirs per rank. Fill this out and bring it back to me.”

  Sorin counted out the danirs, leaving him with just four thanks to that sticky-fingered portal guard, and picked up the papers. He looked around for a moment, then said, “Could I get a pen?”

  “Ugh,” the man groaned. “Fine. Here.”

  A steel-nibbed pen and a small quartz pot of ink were placed in front of Sorin before he was shooed off to the nearest table. Well, I’m glad I didn’t meet this asshole the first time I was here. I think he might be worse than the guys who were literally trying to kill me.

  The paperwork itself was a combination of the most inane and pointless questions and demands for deeply sensitive build information. Why they needed to know what district he lived in and if he had any pets was beyond him, but he just filled in that he was climbing with no permanent home, and no, he didn’t have any pets.

  When they wanted him to list out his current soulprints and their strength, then outline his plans for his future build, Sorin lied through his teeth about everything. He sketched out a moderately good build that could probably see a competent climber up to rank 20 or 25 with a little bit of luck, but which in no way resembled how he would actually fill his soulspace.

  There was also a section to link a bank account so that they could automatically pull out his monthly dues with a small disclaimer that they’d keep a percentage of his balance in the event of his confirmed death before paying out the rest to a beneficiary of his choosing.

  Sorin snorted when he read that. No thanks. There are so many better ways to handle that just by dealing with a bank directly. Why would anybody sign up for that?

  It would be a few floors before his wealth outstripped his ability to carry it, anyway. Right now, every danir he made was tied up in new soulprints and better equipment. He had just enough room left for that defensive soulprint he was hoping his team could find for him, and after that, most of his budget would go to various magical gear.

  Even then, he doubted he’d want anything to do with a bank on Floor 0. If this new tower was anything like his old one, climbers would have built their own towns on higher floors. Considering the taxes on Floor 0, it seemed even more likely here. Hopefully they’re not as bad about sticking their fingers into my purse as the people down here are.

  With the paperwork finally filled out, Sorin returned everything to the counter. The fat man practically snatched pen and ink out of his hands, then took the papers after he’d put everything else away. “Hmm. Let’s see,” he drawled, his eyes flicking back and forth as he read. Whatever he was checking for, he must have found it, because he just pulled out a chunk of rock and tossed it at Sorin.

  Anima reader? Sorin guessed as he studied it.

  “Channel into that,” the attendant ordered.

  Guess so.

  He pushed a bit of anima into the stone, just enough to make it light up with the unique pattern his anima naturally took. Satisfied with the display, the attendant grabbed the rock without so much as a word and pressed it down on a thin disc of wood. A moment later, the man slid it across the desk and said, “Now channel into this.”

  Sorin did as instructed again, then watched the attendant tap the rock and wood together a second time. “You’re all set. Your dues will be on the fourteenth of each month. If you’re late, a penalty fee will be added and you’ll lose access to all climber facilities until you’ve restored your account to good standing. Consider adding your bank information to your file to avoid this.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Sorin said dryly. “Now that I’m officially a member, which way is it to the archives?”

  * * *

  It wasn’t surprising to find out that the archives were segregated by rank. That wasn’t to say that Sorin couldn’t access information on Floor 2, just that since he wasn’t paying rank 2 climber dues yet, he would have to pay extra for the privilege. Of course, with only four danirs left to his name, he couldn’t afford the price of entry.

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  Never mind that this kind of information could save people’s lives. How short sighted can they be? I bet the Climber’s Society pulled in more money back home simply from donations made by powerful climbers who had fond memories of their early days. It was entirely funded by the charity of its members and, as I recall, even the Floor 0 building was in nicer shape than this shithole.

  So, he settled for what he could get his hands on, and as much as it galled him to admit it, there was plenty of information to be had. The Climber’s Union had full maps of Floor 1, at least going out in a hundred miles from the portal hub. Sorin just assumed that was as far as things went, with nothing past that except the tower walls and the endless void.

  The floor guardian’s location was clearly marked, as were a few dozen popular hunting grounds. The various monsters typically found in those environments were detailed, including what kind of soulprints were commonly found and what their effects were. It was anything and everything Sorin could hope to know, and he spent hours familiarizing himself with the information.

  Most of the monsters were familiar to him, though there was one known as a falkus that he’d never seen, based on the description and artist’s rendition. Either they got something wrong with this entry, or it’s one of those differences between my old tower and this one.

  Deciding not to bother with unnecessary risks, Sorin plotted out the rest of their climb on Floor 1 to avoid any of their known nesting locations. Instead, he found monsters that satisfied his criteria of being both valuable to farm and easy to kill. As a secondary concern, he went out of his way to pick locations that were off the beaten path in the hopes that they wouldn’t run into any other climbing teams.

  It was everything he needed to plan out their climb to Floor 2, but somehow, Sorin left the archives unsatisfied. The soul of this place was dead, cold as stacks of coin and just as unfeeling. There was no comradery, no sense of belonging. The Climber’s Union was a business entity, one that he owed no loyalty to.

  Eventually, the master archivist poked his head through the door and kicked Sorin out. In all fairness, it was getting rather late, but the Climber’s Society had no rule about closing down the archives. They’d just placed ever-glowing lamps around instead and trusted their members not to abuse the books. The Society was self-policing that way. Anyone who did anything to harm the Society ended up being ostracized at best, hunted down at worst. Even those who didn’t care for anything but the advantages being a member gave them were careful not to do anything to risk those privileges.

  The plan was to rent a bunk and have a bed to sleep in, but as it turned out, just being a member wasn’t enough to gain access to that part of the Union either. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point, he thought darkly when the clerk on-duty told him it’d be two danirs for a bed.

  “Does that come with a meal?” he asked.

  “Does this look like a restaurant?” the clerk countered.

  Why is everyone such an asshole here? Did I do something to offend the Union? It wasn’t like this the first time I was here. Was she just the exception?

  Maybe two danirs would be enough to get him a meal. It certainly felt like it should be, but Sorin didn’t know enough about the value of the red tower’s default currency to say for sure. More importantly, he was pretty sure everything was closed already. Maybe he could find an inn somewhere with some leftovers, but that was a gamble.

  Deciding he was more tired than he was hungry, Sorin handed over the two danirs and received a key with the number fourteen etched onto it. “Take a left at the first intersection,” the clerk told him. “Third door on the right from there.”

  Sorin found the promised door a minute later and unlocked it to reveal a single thin bed, barely more than a cot, and nothing else. There was enough empty space to drop a pack on the floor but no other furniture. Even the bed itself was nothing more than a plank of wood mounted on a frame with an inch-thick pad on it. There were no blankets, pillows, or sheets.

  The only difference between this and sleeping on the ground is the roof over my head. Hell, the ground might actually be more comfortable. And they’re charging us for this!

  He tried to rationalize the expense as minimal, that two danirs really wasn’t much of anything in the long term. If he extrapolated from what he’d paid for Ice Dart, he expected an A-ranked soulprint would cost somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred thousand danirs. He’d had over a dozen of them in the blue tower, and another two dozen B- and C-ranks to round out his kit.

  Somehow, it still rankled. How was a new climber supposed to get his feet under him with a place like the Climber’s Union bleeding them dry? He knew exactly how hard it was to save up for the necessary equipment just to get started, but at least back home, the knowledge and support of the Climber’s Society had been free.

  I hate this place.

  The only advantage to having rented the room was that he had some privacy to look in his soulspace with relatively little risk of being disturbed. His new Acuity soulprint was there, lined up next to the rest on the walls. It was F-ranked, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. He wanted to push it up to at least D, then merge it with a defensive soulprint like Dodge to help him spot ranged attacks and scout from a distance. If he could add a few other scouting utility soulprints to the mix to handle seeing in the dark or underwater, so much the better.

  Next to it was Warrior’s Vigilance, half again the size of Acuity. The painting showed him bringing a huge blade down on a suspiciously familiar manticore, but beneath that was the pattern of anima that was passively enhancing his strength, speed, and stamina. That would be receiving top priority for the anima he harvested over the next week. With Ice Dart already pushed up a rank, it was unlikely he’d be able to harvest enough anima to empower both soulprints, and with his current role, the physical enhancements he got from Warrior’s Vigilance were more important.

  Finally, off to the side was a bit of empty space, enough for one more small painting. His soulspace couldn’t hold another E-ranked soulprint, but an F would fit in there nicely. He’d find out tomorrow if Odric had been able to find him one. If not… well… the floor guardian is going to be a lot harder to beat. So don’t let me down.