They reached a spiral iron staircase that led straight up to the balcony. It was guarded, of course, by three men with cudgels and daggers sheathed into their belts. But when Vanto sidled up to them with another of his easy smiles, the guards promptly stepped aside, and the group was allowed entry.

  Vanto led the way, climbing the steps with vigour.

  Walking behind Vanto but far enough to speak without him eavesdropping, Reeva took a quick glance around. “I couldn’t see any other exits.”

  Boras was just behind her. “You think this isn’t going to go well?”

  “I don’t know.” She flexed her fingers. “I mean, we don’t know him. But I can bet you that he knows us. What if he’s planning to sell us out to the Barons?”

  “He wouldn’t.” Arcos replied, standing at the end of the group’s trail. “He would want the Barons away from his business. And they would only assume he’s in league with us.”

  “I hope you’re right, mate.” Boras hoped. He looked down at the Den and, yes, sure enough, the blonde-haired girl was making her way through the crowd, flanked by her cronies and towards the stairwell.

  “Buck up, lads.” Torrance reassured. “Just remain calm and confident.” He patted both Arcos and Boras's shoulders. “Breathe.”

  Boras skewed his smile. “That’s what I want to do after we leave.”

  Reaching the top of the stairwell, they stopped as Vanto approached the opened balcony door. Halting by it, Vanto cranked his head into the room. After a moment of unheard talking, Vanto turned to the group.

  “You may come in.” He said. And so they did.

  Inside was a well-decorated room of wood. Wood-panelled flooring that reached wall to wall and then extended up onto said walls. The ceiling was also of a wooden style, mirroring that of the Den with roof supports. Hanging from them was a sizeable oil lantern of silver brass, with hooked ends which hung smaller oil pots that flicked with orange flames. It gave the room a warm, yet musty scent of pine. Not so heady, but not weak either.

  On one side of the room was a large working desk of black polished wood, with books, papers, an ink pot, quills, and more papers, with an empty red cushioned plumed chair.

  On the opposing side of the room and providing the most light was the fireplace with a marble hearth. The sculptures that lined the edges of the hearth were mythological creatures that belonged in the fanciful stories a child would read. Faeries, fauns, giant snakes, and sarku were the chief images, but others were placed here and there amongst the fantastical menagerie that bordered the fireplace.

  Leaning on the fireplace’s mantlepiece and looking into the fire itself was a tall man, maybe six feet in height. He had on a splendidly clean black and silver suit with silver buckled boots as polished as the desk behind him. One black gloved hand held the cigarillo and holder betwixt his fingers whilst holding on the mantelpiece’s edge, while the other black hand held a crystal glass filled with dark red rum that had a silver straw. The man was silently swirling the drink with an absentminded motion, listening to the straw clinking against the crystal. But what stunned the group was when the man turned to face them as they all entered.

  His face was covered with a silver mask.

  Held onto his face with two leather straps that coiled around his back of his short black hair, the face itself was unnerving in its lack of design. There were two slits for eyes, two slits for nostrils, and a short stretch of an opening - no more than five centimetres in length - to form an expressionless mouth. His jacket beheld a high collar, allowing none of his bottom jaw and neck to be seen. The man lifted the cigarette holder and passed it through the mouth’s hole and inhaled. When exhaling, smoke trailed out of all five holes. It was an unnerving image to witness.

  Vanto stepped forth, gave a swift bow to the masked man, and gestured towards him. “May I introduce: Victor Sade; Boss of the Mercury Gang.” Vanto backed away to lean against the wall, standing between his leader and the visitors.

  Victor Sade nodded. “Greetings to you all.” His voice was like melted chocolate, running over the proffered hand of a woman carved in marble.

  “By the Black…” Reeva swore under her breath.

  Victor Sade noted her reaction and chuckled. It was not a mirthful one. “A suitable reaction… Though I do not know by which deity this ‘Black’ you speak of…” He turned and walked with a slow deliberation towards the desk. “But I am open to all religions. Each has a place here. A pleasure to see you again, ‘Four Claws’.” He nodded to Torrance.

  Boras raised an eyebrow to Torrance. Four Claws? Again with the name. The Waywards back in the guild had called Torrance that as well.

  “A pleasure to see you as well, Master Sade.” Torrance bowed with a flourish, offering an uncharacteristic amount of respect that Arcos did not think he was capable of. “We are grateful that you could spare time in your affairs to afford us this meeting.”

  Victor made that mirthless chuckle again as he turned to lean his back against the desk and rest his glass there beside a brass ashtray. He started to playfully twirl his cigarillo in his fingers.

  “Well, how could I resist a chat when your message was, at the very least, intriguing? How did it go: ‘A business opportunity that a fool would pass on’… Bold words, by which I can hope you didn’t mean to call me a fool.”

  “Perish the thought.” Torrance coughed to clear his throat and stood back to allow the trio to move in.

  “Aha.” Victor inclined his silvered head. “These children better not be recruits for your mercenaries. You know the rules.”

  “Indeed I do. But I have a history with these three and they are the main reason for coming here to see you.”

  “But of course. Please, intrigue me. If you can.” Victor settled the cigarette holder and cigarillo on the ashtray and crossed his arms.

  Torrance nodded to the trio. Reeva went first. She managed - the best she could - a curtsey towards Victor Sade, who nodded cordially in turn.

  “My name’s Reeva Braider. I’m from Silverstreak. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Pleasure is certainly mine, my dear.” Victor spoke softly. “But I can see that you are clearly not from Silverstreak, nor Dargania for that matter. Easterner, correct?”

  “Uh… Yes. You’re right.” Reeva tugged at the sleeves that hugged her wrists. “I came here when I was very little. I don’t remember much before that.”

  “Hmm…” Victor put his finger and thumb under his chin and scratched the silver thoughtfully. “Turn around for me. Just one circle.”

  Reeva blinked, a tad affronted by the strange request. “What?”

  “One spin. That is all. Please.”

  Reeva sighed slightly, but she spun slowly. Victor watched her with an intense stare. He nodded as she finished her turn.

  “I see…” he said. “I see, I see…”

  “Well, I don’t.” Boras muttered quietly.

  But that wasn’t quiet enough. For Victor snapped his head towards Boras with a hawk’s attention. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like a turn as well?” He asked Boras with a sharpness in his lips. Gone was the smoothness in that faceless voice. It was as hard and cutting as tempered glass.

  Boras felt his spine twitch with a sudden nervousness. Reeva closed her eyes irritably.

  Victor flicked his fingers over. “Step forward…”

  Torrance raised his hand to speak. But Vanto slowly raised his hand at Torrance and shook his head. Torrance closed his mouth and lowered his head, whilst giving Boras an exasperated stare.

  Boras swallowed his spit as he stepped into the room and looked before Victor Sade.

  “What is your name?” Victor asked.

  “Cutter. Boras Cutter.”

  “Boras… Who do you think you are, boy?” Victor asked calmly. “So that you could feel the necessity to speak so freely before me?”

  Boras opened his mouth to speak, but nothing could come out. Boras coughed and swallowed more saliva that perspired from his mouth’s glands.

  “I have an uncanny gift, ever since I was a boy…” Victor said. “I can sense the nature of a person. Not seeing if they’re lying or telling truths you understand. It isn’t clear-cut, it’d be like looking at you through a besmirched window. But I can still see just enough… I wanted to see the worth of Braider. And I have. She offers so much. I saw her spirit. Her guile. Her determination. I see a young woman with worth. You know what I see when I look at you?”

  Boras shook his head meekly, though he was unable to take his eyes off Victor.

  Victor pushed off the desk and walked with a slow, steady pace. One step at a time towards the silent Boras.

  “Nothing.” Victor hissed. “I do not see worth in you. I see addiction, foolishness, rashness, and fear. So much fear. Oh yes, I can see skill. I can see a potential for change. But not enough to warrant any respect for you. For you have not a single grain, drop, nor sliver of willpower. You go where your next impulse takes you. You cannot make decisions for yourself. You are scared of your own past. And you are scared of me. I am not impressed.”

  Victor was standing before Boras now, a mere step away. He towered over the shaking boy.

  Torrance, Reeva, and Arcos suddenly got the eerie sense of movement behind them. Glancing, they noted the striking jade-eyed girl Boras commented on now with a group of thugs closing the distance between them. They did not have weapons drawn. But they all had a tension in their bodies that belied their peaceful faces.

  Victor raised a gloved finger and prodded it against Boras's chest.

  “So perhaps the best thing you can do now is to keep your petulant, impertinent tongue still before you next find it shoved down your throat, clogged as is with your split blood.”

  “Leave him alone.” Arcos growled. He pushed past Torrance and stood straight, staring hard at Victor.

  Victor turned his head to the newcomer.

  And stared. And stared. And stared. He didn’t say a word.

  Arcos glared at Victor, unblinking. “You want to insult someone, how about me?”

  Boras, seeing that the silver-mask monster was distracted, backed up to Torrance and Reeva, who had moved into the room as a way to avoid the thugs coming at their stern. No doubt, they were Victor’s personal guards. Vanto had moved around the room, slow hands threateningly dipping inside his jacket.

  Victor took one step back, turning his gaze from Arcos. “I- I’m sorry… I do not know your name.”

  “Why should I give it?” Arcos shot back. “The way you’ve been treating us doesn’t feel like it deserves manners.”

  Victor cocked his head to a side. He leant forward, seemingly peering at Arcos.

  “You… you are…” He raised his hand and coughed a laugh. “I apologise.”

  The jade-eyed girl and her thugs stopped their advance, as did Vanto and his slow procurement of his hidden weapons. They looked to their leader with expectant eyes.

  They all stared at Victor, especially when he apologised. Their faces expressed disbelief, as if they had never heard the man say sorry before.

  The trio and Torrance also watched Victor, who stood there in the middle of the room.

  Boras flicked his eyes to the door that was covered by thugs. He looked to a closed door on the corner of Victor’s office. All he wanted now, more than anything, was to get the hells out and run. He had faced Bodyhunters in battle, reanimated scarecrows in thick grassy fields, and monstrous mountain spiders in the dead of night. Those frightened him, but he pushed through those fears to come out on top. But this man… This man scared him to his bones. It was unexplainably familiar. The fear. It surged up in him. Victor Sade was correct about that at least. Boras was pulled by fear. Fear of his past. Fear of his guilt. Fear of his life. Fear of his future. Fear of Sade himself.

  Boras hadn’t felt this much deep-seated fear since his days with Orkios.

  Orkios.

  Orkios…

  Boras blinked. He had not remembered Orkios for half a decade. He had not wanted to remember that man. And that was a lifetime ago. The very fact that Victor evoked such a familiar emotion as that cruelty, obsessed bastard, all those years ago was all that Boras needed to see that this man before them was not to be trifled with.

  Reeva felt her fingers twitch. Her mind went back to The Four Claws, where they had left their weapons before coming here. What she would give to have them with her right now. But no, Torrance knew best, didn’t he? She gave him a glare and then turned her glare to the thugs at the entrance. The girl in the satin mask in particular watched the conversation with a cruel flash in her eyes. Reeva couldn’t see her face, but her eyes told her that the girl was smirking. Despite her preference for fair women with striking eyes, Reeva made a decision that she did not like this particular girl at all.

  Torrance took a second to wonder how it was possible for a situation to go this badly so quickly. Then he recalled who he was with, who he was himself, and who they were dealing with. To hope for a non-violent solution really was foolishly optimistic at best. His arms tensed, sensing a fight.

  But Arcos didn’t note the thugs, the fear in Boras, nor the tension in his friends. None of that mattered in that moment. For the last hour, since walking towards the Mercurial Den, there had been a sudden gnawing sensation in his mouth and hands. It grew as they neared the Den. As if it was anticipating the possible conflict. His body quivered, shaking from the building adrenaline. And despite all their intent otherwise, Arcos found himself strangely hoping for a fight. Maybe that was the reason why he did not feel fear as he stared down the silver-faced man before him. After all, Arcos had stared in the face of worse monsters than him and survived.

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  “What for?” Arcos asked. His fists clenched in an attempt to stave off the shaking hunger.

  “For my reaction.” Victor explained as he gently readjusted his mask. “I abhor rudeness. But it seems that I am guilty of the same thing.” He looked past Arcos, at the entrance. “Sitra, sheathe that dagger.”

  Sitra, the jade-eyed girl, tisked. Clearly disappointed, she shoved a thin stiletto dagger back up her sleeve with a click. None of them had heard her draw it out.

  “You sure?” She asked with a rough tinge in her tongue. The voice of a smoker who was in the midst of healing their vocal cords.

  “I am. Friends, leave us. Vanto, Sitra? You may stay.” Victor waved the thugs away. They nodded and turned away with strict obedience. Sitra stayed by the open door, crossed her arms and leant against the frame.

  Victor turned around and walked around his desk. Settling into the chair, he took up his holder, broke off the dead cigarillo and prepared another cigarillo. After lighting it up with a silver oil lighter, with a few clicks that sparked a red flicker of flame, he clipped off the lighter, leant back and waved his smoking cigarette holder before him. “Have a seat.” He asked of them.

  Vanto came forth, bringing forth four foldable wooden chairs which he quickly set up in a line before Victor.

  Vanto then headed around the desk and stood to attention by Victor’s side.

  Slowly and one by one, the four took their seats. After that, no one spoke in that room. Victor took his time taking audible puffs of the smoke and expelling the smoke through his mask’s orifices. He then leant back into his chair, languished his elbow on the chair’s arm and rested the side of his silver jaw against his gloved fingers as he surveyed the four guests with a body language that would be construed as quizzically curious.

  “Shall we start again?” He asked calmly. “My name is Victor Sade. Leader of the Mercury Gang. To my right is Vanto, whom you have had the good pleasure of meeting. Behind is my other trusted colleague, Sitra.”

  Sitra nodded once in silence as their gazes glanced to her. Vanto bowed his head gently with a grin.

  Victor proffered his hand to the four, awaiting their response.

  Torrance stood up, patting down his clothes. “Yes, thank you for restarting our introductions. These… partners of mine are friends of an old friend of mine. Sent to me to learn from me and to assist me with several problems here.”

  Sitra sniggered mirthlessly. Victor shook his head. “Oh Four Claws… That would be an understatement of gross proportions. You know perfectly well that until your debt to this gang is clear, you and your ilk are forbidden from taking in - and let’s be frank here - complete strangers into our circle. Into my city.”

  Arcos skewed his face at that remark. Victor did not miss it.

  “Indeed, brave young man. This city may be controlled and ruled over by the Oligarchy. They create the laws and enforce them with their brutal ways. But the people turn to those like me when they have no other protector. They look to me, which in turn gives me power. The Oligarchy may rule the city, but I rule the streets and don’t you ever forget it.”

  Reeva put up her hand. “But you blackmailed your way to power. You didn’t fight your way in like they did.”

  Victor nodded, not at all perturbed by Reeva’s rebuttal. “You say that as if it were a crime. The corridors of power lay open for me to walk, left idle by a few foolish men and women who ventured into the dirty business that has upturned this entire city. I had no other opportunity greater than that. You see it shameful and underhanded, but I merely used the sins they committed to take away their power for myself. Call it justice, call it irony, call it karma, whatever you feel suitable. Tell me, children… What do you think I do here? As in, how do I make money?”

  The three children looked towards eachother for an answer. Boras refused to speak out, still clearly stunned by Victor’s vicious vivisection of his character. Reeva shrugged with confusion, so Arcos spoke out.

  “Crime? You steal, bribe, threaten?” He ventured.

  Victor chuckled. “Hmm, partly.” Victor waved his hand around. “I invest in markets that seem fruitful. Trades of all sorts. I ensure that my money never touches befouled activities like enforced prostitution, trafficking, and slavery. Never those… That must come as a surprise for you?”

  “I… I didn’t know there was enforced prostitution…” Arcos whispered.

  Victor nodded grimly. “There is… A couple of Night Taverns outside the city, towards the southwest, and in the coastal city Paratell have fallen under the control of those seeking to exploit that profession. Abandoned children, wayward teenagers, destitute parents… All potent products to be sold nightly… With or without consent. It is disgusting, so I stay away for my gang’s own good. Of course, the Nightpeople and Baroness Francisca are furious about it. But these people are protected by wealthy powers beyond even my scope.

  The avenues which I focus on are weapons, materials, medical supplies, drugs, mercenary guilds… Which brings me back to you, Four Claws. You wouldn’t have called this meeting with these children without offering me something worthwhile in return.”

  Torrance sat back down and leaned forward a tad. “Well, it is more of a question… Hypothetical one.” “Oh, ‘hypothetical’… I do love these ones.” Victor gestured Torrance to continue.

  Torrance straightened his posture. “The way the situation stands, the Waywards owe the Mercury Gang a great deal of money which Carver had foolishly borrowed from you. Money that he completely lost during the Snatching Scandal when the Lawgivers confiscated any and all evidence of the trafficking’s deals.”

  “I’m aware. Even I was not immune to the backlash. There were some acquaintances who had unwisely devalued themselves into that trade. They had been dealt with, but I lost a good portion of my wealth.”

  “You understand that in order to make money on our end, the Waywards put our lives at risk daily. Sometimes, some of us don’t come back from jobs.”

  “As such with a mercenary’s life.”

  “Yes. The point is, what happens to the guild when there are no more mercenaries left? The guild loses the money it has left to upkeep the base of operations, the food and drinks and welfare of the members that survive. Soon the guild collapses.”

  “Get to your question, Four Claws.”

  “The question… what would it take for you to cancel out the entire debt the Waywards owes you? Every single coin and in the shortest time possible?”

  Sitra blinked. Though her arms were still crossed, she took a step forward.

  Vanto smiled and was forced to suppress a snorting laugh with a hand.

  Victor did not move nor speak. He didn’t need to hide his expressions behind that mask, so Torrance had no idea how the man was reacting. All he did was take a single draw on his holder and expelling more plumes and smoke.

  Finally, Victor answered. “You smack of desperation and worry, Four Claws. And if there is something that worries you that much to make such an absurd request, it surely affects this city and my interests as well.”

  “You are correct. We have an issue, one that I cannot resolve with the debt chaining my ankles.”

  “Hmm.” Victor tapped the side of his mask with his finger. “What are you planning?”

  Torrance sighed and made a silent prayer to the Black, hoping that this meeting would not be the reason he would be seeing Her. “You are aware of the Bodyhunters? And Baron Markus's return.”

  “Unfortunately, I am. I am also very aware of their more recent activities.” Victor cocked his head. “What of it?”

  “He has been taking in too many slaves of late, from all over the country. It’s becoming an issue. And there are those in that catch that are dear to the three people with me. They… they intend to break them out.”

  “From his stronghold?”

  “If they are there? Then yes.” Victor nodded once and then took a slow inhale of breath. “Ah.” He replied with a smoke spew.

  Vanto stared in surprise at Torrance. But Sitra spoke out.

  “Not a fucking chance.” She stepped in and walked towards the window to reach a small wooden armoire. She opened the top lid and lifted out a crystal bottle of yellow liquid and a glass. She poured out a quarter of a glass. She then withdrew another metal straw to drink, sticking the rod in-between the folds of her satin scarf.

  “Not a fucking chance in all the hells.” She said again after her sipping. “You want to go up against the Baron’s own personal bodyguard? What the shite for? A couple of fuckin’ nobodies?”

  “They’re not nobodies to us. Watch your mouth.” Reeva hissed.

  Sitra widened her eyes and stared down at the girl that dared talk back at her. “The hells you say to me, Easterner?”

  “Sitra.” Victor snapped his fingers. “Please.”

  Sitra chewed her tongue, effectively holding it. She tisked but remained quiet with her drink whilst giving Reeva a heavy stink-eye.

  “I apologise for her.” Victor gestured to her. “She is a pragmatist. She seems to think that your venture is shaky and - if I may be frank again - suicidal.”

  “That may be.” Torrance said. “But it is something that they wish to try. And at least they are trying.”

  “Better to try and possibly fail than not to try and certainly fail, eh?” Victor laughed. “Oh Four Claws, I should have expected something like this from you.”

  Arcos coughed, grabbing everyone’s attention.

  Victor lifted his mask’s eyes to him. “Yes?”

  “With respect,” Arcos said, “you didn’t answer Torrance’s question.” Victor cocked his head at Arcos. He did not say anything for a moment. He only regarded Arcos with a searching look.

  “No, I didn’t.” He replied. “Because I do not believe that this is a worthy quest. You will all die.” Victor shook his head. “You have my sympathy for your friends who were taken. But you are not the only ones who have suffered deep loss at the hands of the Bodyhunters.”

  “But what if we did?” Arcos stood up. “What if for once, the Bodyhunters are stopped? And we get our people out? They would know who to thank. You. You would be infamous. In fact, you would be the first person to actively put a dent into the Barons’ chainmail.”

  “Mister Sade?” Reeva spoke out. “You said yourself that you invest in fruitful ventures. With the Bodyhunters out of the way, you would have less strength to contend with from the Barons. Perhaps that can give you more control here in the city? And they are slavers. You have to hate that just as much as we do. There is no reason for you to say no.”

  By now, Victor was leaning his elbows on the desk, lacing his hands together and studying the faces of the children before him. He gave Arcos the longest studying with that silent stare of his. “Hmm…” he mused. “Cutter.” He looked to Boras who was trying to look as small as possible in his chair. “What do you have to say in this? Your friends speak of fame and power that could be mine. And these things I already have. What else could I profit if I do this thing for you? What could I get that I haven’t got already? What have you got to say?”

  The way Victor asked that with a smile in his voice was so condescending and indifferent, it took everything in Arcos not to lash out with a remark. He did not appreciate the way he spoke to them. This man was enjoying his power too much. He would be a prime target for the Black, if they did not need him so badly. Arcos glanced at Boras, who sat in his chair. The poor bastard was rooted to the spot. What Victor had said to him seemed to strike a sore nerve that had survived all the ordeals they pushed through in the last year.

  Boras looked up suddenly. He first looked to his friends, to Torrance, and then to Victor. He chewed his tongue. But he tightened his jaw, took in a deep breath, and stood up.

  “What you said to me just now. You said you saw nothing of worth in me. You saw fear and foolishness… That’s right. That is completely right… I am a coward. I’ve been a coward my whole life. I ran away from all my problems because I was too scared and too weak to fight… Lately, I’ve been training. I’ve learnt from better people, and I have friends that can back me up when the shit hits the windmill. But despite that, I still have the fear. I would rather not fight at all. If I had a way around this with no fighting, I would take it. But I don’t. So I’m here. Standing in front of you and asking for help. And why? Because it’s the right thing to do. Those people took me in when I had no one. These friends here took me in when I had to leave those same people. And now those same people are in danger, and what? I’m supposed to walk away because they’re ‘nobodies’? No way. I’m going to help my friends get them out. And we need your help doing so. It is the right thing to do. Maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you, since all you give a damn about is money and power. So that’s what you don’t have. A chance to do something good and right. How about that? And also… why don’t you give us another good long look? You’ll find the fear in all of us. And a fucking hells lot more than that.”

  Boras remained standing with his friends, his nostrils flaring from his speech. Arcos and Reeva looked at him with surprise. Torrance was subtly grinning with pride.

  On the other side of the room, Vanto was smirking with something akin to pride. Sitra was too busy drinking her glass to give much of a damn, but she offered a raised eyebrow at the balls the boy had.

  But it was Victor who was the main responder. He slowly unlocked his hands and rose to his feet. Placing his hands on the desk, he leant forward over it and stared down Boras and Reeva and Arcos in turn with a fixed look. It was strange. The three of them could feel a swelling of energy in the air, like when the air grows heavy before a thunderstorm strikes. A heat on their hearts slowly billowed, especially when Victor gazed at them.

  The Mercury leader stood up straight, expelling the energy in the room. He crossed his arms and tapped his silver shin with one index finger. He hummed. “Hmm… Hm, hm, hm…” He chuckled. “Four Claws.”

  “Yes?” Torrance replied.

  “I would pay you a great deal of money if you tell me where you found people of this type. I would be a more secure man and my company would be a great deal more successful.”

  Torrance grinned. “Ah, that would be a secret I’d like to keep.”

  “On pain of death?”

  “That and beyond.”

  Victor laughed again. This was a genuine one. “I must say, well said to the three of you. Especially you, Cutter. It seems to me that I have misjudged you harshly. I apologise once more.”

  Boras looked abashed. “It’s not the first time… I know I don’t come across well sometimes.”

  “You can say that again…” Reeva muttered. Boras gave her a quick glare.

  Victor chuckled again. “Well, if you are that self-aware, Cutter, then you must surely have a brain in there somewhere.”

  Victor started pacing the room, with increasing excitement as his mind whirred. “Very interesting indeed… Very.” He stopped and looked at them all. To Vanto, Sitra and his four guests. “I think… I shall take you up on your impetuous gamble, Four Claws.”

  Torrance’s eyes widened. “What? You’re serious? Thank you.”

  Sitra and Vanto stared dumbly at their boss. Victor paid them no heed as he talked to Torrance. “I would ask that you give me tonight and a day to think of a way to clear your debt properly and begin regaining your manpower. Understand, I will not act out of charity. This is still a business, and I will get what is owed to me. But if you wish to clear it with me immediately, it shall be so.”

  Torrance bowed. “That gives me hope. I’m very grateful. As are they as well.” He gave the trio a look, signalling them to bow too.

  They did so, but Arcos was the first to stand up and questioned, “We can’t wait that long. We need to-”

  Victor held up a hand, stopping Arcos's impatience. “Peace, boy. I am well aware of your haste. But that is useless energy spent. You wish to attack a heavily fortified structure like the Hunter Fortress, you need to plan accordingly, establish an information ring, and gather all the options open to you. It is clear that you know very little about tactics, so allow Four Claws here to educate you in the time that you have. And time you have aplenty. From what I know of Markus and his scum followers, once they reaped a fair amount of people as slaves, they will need to find the right buyers to reap the rewards of their expeditions. That gives you two weeks, maybe two and a half. In other words, you have time: so relax.”

  Victor put his hands behind his back and nodded to the door. “You can leave now. Enjoy the drinks and food we have, on the house, of course. And I shall send a representative to your Guildhouse tomorrow afternoon to inform you on what the next step shall be.”

  “That is more than fair.” Torrance nodded and made his way to the door. “Come on, lads.”

  Boras sighed deeply and left with speed, clearly eager to leave the room. Reeva shot a dirty look towards Sitra, but left in tow with Boras. Arcos left last, with a lengthy glance towards Victor.

  He nodded. “Thank you.” And aimed for the door.

  “Hold for a moment.” Victor spoke. “You never told me your name.”

  Arcos stopped by the door. “Yeah.”

  “You never told me your name.”

  “Oh. My name’s Arcos Blade.” Arcos said offhandedly, before he left.

  Victor stood there in a reflective silence, hearing that name and digesting the meeting that had ended.

  Vanto looked equally dumbstruck by the name made by the boy who showed no fear.

  Only Sitra showed no reaction to Arcos’ name as she put down her glass on his desk and prowled to the door. She poked her head out to watch the strangers leave. She waited till they were out of earshot before whipping her around to Victor.

  “Dad! You can’t be serious!” She snapped. “We have the Waywards by their balls! You could control them easily enough. You really going to turn them loose, just like that?”

  “Not so much…” Victor spoke in a tone that said his mind was miles away from the conversation at hand. “We are still using the mercenaries… It’s just that they have suddenly become far more useful to us as outside agents.”

  Sitra stalked towards the desk and placed her hands flat on them before Victor as she fixed him with a searching look.

  “You always said to me - every damned day since I was to your knee - that you never mix business with politics! You really going to take a stand against the Barons? Now, with the Barons’ Council only days away? How can you trust these strangers?”

  “I do not. Of course I don’t. I wouldn’t be in the position I am in if I trusted every man Jack that waltzed through Fennaposia’s gates. You saw the look in their eyes, they’re killers. Just like you, Vanto and myself. And if they’ve killed before, they can kill again. That is useful.”

  Sitra stood back and crossed her arms. “I just don’t like it. Too many variables. They aren’t a part of the family, the crew. Not even a gathering. Just drifters.”

  Victor chuckled quietly. “Someday, we’re going to have to work on those trust issues of yours.”

  Sitra fixed her father with a glare that could singe rock. “And you know where I got those issues…”

  “I do,” Victor said, with a mixture of pain and regret. “But some people can be relied on.”

  Sitra snorted. “Yeah. Sure. I’m going for a fucking piss.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of the door.

  Victor lowered himself in his chair, put his elbows on the desk, and pressed his mouth against his laced fingers. He stared at the spot where the boy called Arcos had stood. His hands shook.

  Sensing the change in mood, Vanto approached his silent employer. “Sir?”

  “You heard that boy’s name. Yes or no?” Came Victor’s clipped tone.

  “I- I did. But I don’t believe it. It just isn’t possible.”

  “That’s why I want you to be absolutely sure. Go now. Make your inquiries. Find out as much as you can in the Merchant District about the scandal and in the Blacksmith borough. Make inquiries about Markus's movements in the North. Their captive friends came from a village or town that he attacked. Which means they did too. Compare reports that match the descriptions of those three children. I need all the information you can find.

  And find out where the fuck that blacksmith bastard Balsam disappeared to seventeen years ago. That bullshit story of his… I should have known…”

  Vanto nodded quickly. “I’ll start tonight. ” With that, he also left.

  Victor was alone now in the study. His eyes were still fixed on the part of the floor where the boy Arcos Blade had stood. Victor remained silent still. There wasn’t a hope in all the hells that the boy Arcos could be the very same boy that Victor once knew as a-

  No. Not a chance. It would be utterly impossible against what he had previously learnt.

  Beneath the mask, a nervous smile formed.

  But if Arcos was what Victor assumed at that moment… then Victor realised that he may have a lot of planning to do. Which made him all the more excited.

  At last, something had happened which he did not plan for.

  And gods, it thrilled and scared him deeply with equal measure.