Chương 241: Arc 4 - Chapter 43

Fritz awoke. He blinked blearily and found the words were true. They were home. He yawned, then stretched. It wasn't wholly dignified, but he couldn't be convinced to care. Fritz furrowed his brow and attempted to remember what remained of the dream he had just so vividly dreamed. It thwarted him, each grey-orange-tinted memory fading away before he could make sense of it. Fritz yawned again, then ceased his effort s to recall what he'd seen and jumped out from the carriage. He strode toward the door of his estate.

Once he'd entered, he was met by Cassandra. She fidgeted nervously, curtsied quickly, then swiftly signed that a basket had arrived while they had been away. Fritz nodded and signed back.

"Where did you put it?"

"The main lounge," she replied.

"To the main lounge," Fritz announced, beckoning his siblings to follow.

"Why?" Elliot asked warily.

"It's a surprise. A gift, come," Fritz said. He s et off, and soon was entering the sparsely adorned, yet still comfortably furnished, lounge. There, upon the wide tea table, was the basket. It was square, a foot tall and two across, and from it the sound of small scuffling and muffled mews could be heard. Elliot's gaze alighted on it, and he narrowed his eyes, then glanced at Fritz askance.

"Go on. Go open it," Fritz said, motioning him forward. Elliot was about to ask a question when Thea rushed past the both of them, then, in one skilled motion, smoothed the front of her skirt and knelt before the table. She didn't hesitate to swing open the basket's lid. Once she saw what was within, she raised one delicate hand to her mouth and, young lady or not, squealed delightedly. She reached into the basket with both arms, pulling forth two slinky-sleek kittens.

They struggled and cried, and looked around with big blue eyes. Thea brought them to her chest, wrapping them in her arms, then comforted them with soft hushing.

"Cats?"

"Yes, a pair. One for Thea and one for you," Fritz said. Elliot frowned.

"I do not desire a cat."

"Of course you do, everyone does."

"If you think so, then you should take it."

"Oh, no. They're a gift, and you will take one." Elliot's frown grew more obstinate. Fritz softened his tone.

"Just hold one for a bit. Please." Elliot sighed, then nodded, and soon he held one of the kittens in his arms. It wiggled and wormed, but let loose not a sound.

"I would have preferred a hound," Elliot said even as the slightest of smiles broke through his facade of stubborn detachment.

"We have one: Bert," Fritz said, gently staring down at the cat his brother held.

"Definitely has the manners of one," Elliot agreed. There was no heat to the words, only a resignation.

"Milord is too kind," Bert said. He, Jess, Lauren and the maid, Cassandra, had followed. They likely wanted to see what all the commotion was for.

"Look, Jess," Thea said, holding up one of the kittens, her hands were across its chest and under its shoulders. Its lower legs and body dangled limply.

"Look how long she is." The cats were long, and strangely marked, being creamy white for the most part save for their paws, faces and the tips of their tails, which were coloured darkly as if they had been dipped in ink. It was clear that they were of some exotic, foreign breed unknown to Fritz. They even lacked any sign of scales, and their short, seamless fur was distinctly absent of the waxy sheen common to all the beasts, birds, pets and most verminous denizens of Rain City, which was an odd sight indeed.

Due to that, Fritz deduced that the cats were of a kind that wouldn't suffer the rain well. They would be soaked to the skin in minutes at most. The y would have to stay inside the manor then, and a close eye would have to be kept on them lest they escape. Though he supposed that after enough testing of the rain, they would realise on their own that the outside was an unwelcome, ceaseless wet.

"Oh, they're so sweet," Jess said.

"Exquisite, though their colouring is strange," Lauren agreed.

"Must be some rare S train."

"They're from across the sea," Fritz provided.

"That much is certain, though from where exactly I couldn't tell you."

"There's a letter here, and a box," Thea said, pulling the kitten back to her chest as it squirmed in her grip.

"It's addressed to you, Francis. And perhaps it mentions from whence these beautiful kittens hail." Fritz peeked around the basket, and indeed, there was an envelope and a small wooden box. After sweeping them with his Awareness and judging they were safe to open, he read the letter, breaking its wax seal in the process. As he had presumed, it was from Alfred; it was written in the same cordial manner the Curator had conducted himself at the Treasury, if only a mite more formal.

It still had that playful, pleasant tone, though. Fritz scanned the glyphs, frowning at what he read; however, he couldn't suppress a smile while he did so. The letter was short and conveyed the merest of explanations as to the breed or bearing of the cats provided. Instead, it directed him to a particular page in a certain book, one that Fritz found was among the contents of the wooden box, also provided.

Underneath the tome that was "Cats and their Kinds: Curious and Common Volume IV," there were three small loops of soft leather, each a different colour and adorned with a tiny bell. He picked up one of the collars, the blue one, and it jingled delicately as he raised it to his eye. Looking closer, he discovered that the bell was carved with minute runes. They were inscribed in the water-aligned grammar Fritz was familiar with, and he could make out their intended function with some surety.

It was a minor sound enchantment, one that would have the bell ring louder when buffeted with wind and rain. An interesting, though frivolous, application of runic inscription, and one he couldn't countenance spending even a single gold on refilling when the mana was inevitably depleted. Fritz felt some irritation, and not just at the waste of time and effort spent on the bell, but at the presence of three collars rather than a pair. It was good to have a spare, though he doubted that was the intention.

A suspicion seized him, but his ded uctions w ere interrupted.

"Francis! There's another one," Thea gleefully cried, scooping another lanky kitten from the depths of the basket. This third kitten proved a skittish thing; it slipped free from Thea's grasp, and it leapt away, landing clumsily on the table before bounding off and towards the door. Bert stooped low and quickly caught it by the scruff of its neck as it attempted to flee.

"This one must be yours, Fritz," Bert stated, grinning, standing straight, then holding the caught creature aloft. It hung there piteously.

"I only asked for a pair. This one must be a stall away. We'll have to return it," Fritz said, stepping back from the proffered cat. Bert rolled his eyes and tossed the kitten at him.

"Catch." Gasps and shrieks rang out, and Elliot cried a startled shout.

"What are you doing?!" Fritz deftly caught the kitten before it could fall further than a foot. It struggled in his grasp, but he and his thievery-honed fingers were too skilled to allow any escape.

"How could you do such a thing!?" Thea demanded, standing and pressing her kitten close.

"You brute!"

"What?" Bert asked, acting as though what he had done was completely sane.

"I cannot believe you would do that to a sweet, innocent kitten," Thea said.

"You're terrible!"

"Terrible," Jess agreed, scowling.

"Really, Bert, was that necessary?" Lauren chided, clearly displeased.

"It's fine," Bert huffed.

"Look, not a scratch on either it or Fritz." Fritz also levelled a disapproving look on the man while he calmed the cat he held. Eventually, under the glares and glowering of those around him, Bert relented and repented.

"Sorry." The apology was met stonily, though Fritz forgave him immediately. Bert had thrown the kitten gently; it was clear that he'd only meant to force Fritz to hold the cat, probably to instil a bond between them. And annoyingly, he'd achieved what he'd set out to do. The kitten settled into Fritz's arms and began to purr. He sighed, then smiled down at the precious thing. It had the same pattern as its siblings, though it was slightly fairer. A particularly pale example of the breed, it seemed.

A small one, too, he concluded as he compared it to the one his brother held. Though that one did appear to be the largest of the three, and the quietest, judging from the soft purring it emanated. Thea's kitten's purrs, however, were as loud as a summer torrent, as were its frequent cries.

"Hush," Thea told it. It responded with another loud meow.

"A talkative one," Jess said. It replied to her as well, and she laughed and drew nearer. Soon Bert's brutish display was forgotten, and they fawned over the new additions to the household. While they affixed the collars, Lauren, having expressed her interest in what strain of cat they were, read from the book provided them.

"Here. Why, they have a whole chapter about them," she said, pointing a finger at the page which included a portrait of the breed.

"What are they called?" Thea asked as she fussed over her charge, straightening its red collar and delighting in its adorable protests.

"They're commonly called Southern Sooty Snow-furs," Lauren explained.

"They have a long, shrouded history, and their origin is one of myth. One told here says they predate the Spires, that they come from the fallen kingdom of Shai-amn."

"An ancient bloodline, is it?" Fritz asked.

"It's a preposterous fancy, though one a such a 'scholar' would propagate," Lauren said, not hiding her derision.

"See another part here claims that they were a gift from the Goddess Alestria. That at the precipice of the Final Spire she whispered them into being as the perfect pet. Absolute nonsense."

"I think that myth may have some merit," Thea said.

"Meow," her kitten agreed.

"See."

"Whatever the truth, these must be rare and expensive cats," Fritz said, fastening a purple loop into place around one slim neck.

"I hope this favour I asked hasn't indebted me further to the crown." Though he said as much, seeing the smiles of his siblings and their most genuine joy, he knew he'd be glad to pay any price the King desired.

"Oh, you are always looking for the worst," Thea scolded gently.

"Untrue, it is the worst that is always looking for me," Fritz claimed. She ignored his comment, intent on ingratiating herself to her kitten. It meowed. Stolen novel; please report.

"I think he's hungry. Cass, fetch some fish," Thea absently ordered. The maid did as commanded, bustling away.

"Now, what should I call you?" Thea asked the purring ball nestled in her arms.

"You're so sweet, why not Sugar or Treacle or Toffee?"

"I think I shall name mine Stoic," Elliot stated.

"He's been quite calm this whole time. Brave even. For a cat, at least."

"An interesting choice," Jess said, her lips pursing ever so slightly.

"How about Silent? Or Shadow? Or Shade?" Elliot asked.

"Shade! Pick that one," Bert said eagerly.

"Not Shade," Fritz scowled.

"And not S hadow either, it doesn't even have dark fur."

"Fine, Silent it is then," Elliot decided.

"Do you like that, Silent?" The kitten simply looked around serenely, ignoring him as cats are wont to do.

"What are you naming yours?" Thea asked Fritz. He shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Sid?" Bert suggested innocently. Fritz glared at him.

"Sly?" Lauren proffered.

"Snow? Because it's so pale?" Elliot added.

"Snow is as good a name as any," Fritz swiftly agreed before Bert could come up with another aggravating or asinine name.

"Then keeping in fashion, Sugar you will be," Thea said to her kitten. It meowed, acquiescing to the ordainment. And so the cats were named, then they were fed, and then they were allowed some sleep. Those names, however, didn't last long without adulteration then ultimate abandonment, as pet names are known to do.

No, what the cats were called and what they answered to changed, grew longer, then shorter, then longer again as the cat's personalities were laid as bare as their fur and markings, which only darkened as they grew in size. Their secret quirks, of which there were many, couldn't remain sequestered behind those imperious blue eyes. And so, as the weeks passed, only Sugar's name was kept close to its origin. He became Sugarpaws without much notice of the change.

His new moniker was due mostly to the way its feet padded heavily over whichever surface it tread. Silent, as it turned out, wasn't so silent when sleeping. He snored louder than it had any right to, and would often startle itself out of sleep with a snort and a sneeze. It was knighted as Sir Snorepuss, and it bore the title as regally as any king, or, indeed, queen, as they discovered he was a she. Fritz's kitten, Snow, eventually earned the name Skittercat.

She would often tear down the halls, or out of rooms when spooked and would sometimes pounce upon the unsuspecting as they passed under or by its hiding places. Whatever the cats were called, they were a welcome addition to the estate and they livened the manor with their stalking, slinking presences as well as their unpredictable affections which, when they desired it, were lavishly given. While th e week s went by, Fritz was not idle; no one in the household was.

There was training, there was reading, there were Techniques to practi c e and armour and armaments to acquire, along with the miscellany of Climbing. There were also other duties to attend to, both numerous and needing both finesse and finances. And this was most true for Fritz. He lamented it, but endured. Thankfully, not all these duties were wastes of gold, nor were they strictly unpleasant.

The balls and banquets, while tiresome, were profoundly more preferable to the Climbing the Nightshark had demanded of Fritz. Though he still didn't attend too many of these high society happenings, sending his siblings instead when he could afford to. As had been expected, Thea thrived in such a role, and surprisingly so did Elliot. Fritz himself felt he wasn't quite the amiable, affable Lord he attempted to appear, but he still disposed himself well in conversation and excellently in dance.

Or so it was remarked when it was thought he wasn't listening. It was during one of these balls that Fritz met with Lady Noonsea and her daughter, Yvonne, and discussed his contract with them or any potential nuptials. With a voice rich with the tones of Dusksong, he assuaged them, delaying any decisions as to the fulfilment of his obligation.

While the older of the two Ladies wasn't pleased by his pretty, though empty words, the younger was delighted, especially so when he flattered her and favoured her with many dances throughout the night.

"I have never danced so much. Any more and I fear my feet will fall off," Yvonne had said, begging a reprieve.

"And I've never had the pleasure of such a beautiful partner," Fritz had claimed. She had smiled widely and playfully swatted him then, before returning to her seat. He had followed, engaging her with his most charming conversation as he did so. Over the course of th at evening, h e had found that they had little in common, which was a source of significant frustration. Not only that, but she was vapid, spoiled and shallow, and her company grated.

She, however, was endlessly interested in him and his exploits, in the Mer Spire and out of it. Yvonne had also been quite concerned for his health, or rather, his appearance of health. She had leaned close and said, "You need to employ better Defenders." He had tilted his head questioningly, and she had continued, "You have so many thin, fine scars." She traced a particularly pronounced one down his cheek with one soft finger.

"They haven't marred your handsomeness, not yet. And it does give you a rather... rugged appeal. Still, too much and you will look a ruffian, and that would not do. Any husband of mine should be refined, and clear in skin and deeds."

"I assure you, my Defenders have much improved," Fritz had protested.

"And I know I shall not be accumulating any more scars upon my face."

"Good." She planted a furtive, quick kiss on his lips. He didn't return it, but he also couldn't avoid it. That same night, after the ball had ended, Fritz crept down to the drowned district in search of Sylvia. He chanced upon her prowling the streets, and he joined her stalking for a few hours before they returned to the refuge, then retired to her room.

It was mostly the same as he had last left it, though there were a few new additions, small things, trinkets that were gifts from the grateful denizens of her territory, and there were also more useful items such as clothes and furniture. Then there were the books, she had nineteen of them now, eighteen of which were stacked neatly on a shelf, while the last sat on a roughly hewn bedside table. Fritz didn't pay them much attention; he was far too distracted for that.

Nor did they speak much of what she'd been reading; they had little enough of the night left, and it was better spent in other ways. In the late morning, when they had finally awoken, they talked of this and that. They spoke of rumours, and when that bottle ran empty, they continued with sweet nothings. When those grew to o saccharine, they moved onto more melancholy musings. The whole time, though, lying there in her bed, Fritz held her to his chest. Sylvia clung to him just as tightly.

Fritz didn't want to leave her, but he had to. Although that day was one of respite from training, he had to oversee his interests. He had to set his plans into motion so he could be ready to Climb the Rain Spire when the opportunity arose. And so, just as the world would not wait, neither would he. Such were his excuses.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Sylvia said, groaning and stretching under the blankets.

"Go on and leave me already. I'm gonna catch another few hours of rest. I need it after last night." She yawned, then coughed, then gave a wide grin. Fritz smiled back, and he dreaded the loss of her warmth. Still, he freed his arm from their entanglement and slowly stood, then he dressed.

"Make sure to bring around that book you found, the theories or whatever you were calling it," she said as she admired his back.

"Once I'm done reading it myself. I must warn you, though, it's quite the dry read. Dusty dry," Fritz said.

"Dry is good in a soaked place like Rain City," Sylvia stated.

"Perhaps," Fritz allowed. He belted his sword and dagger, turned and bowed.

"I'll see you again soon. Farewell."

"Bye." She waved before pulling the bed covers over her head. It was unfortunate that they w ouldn't meet again for some weeks. And not without poor tidings. Though he didn't know that at the time. H e made his way out the door, down the stairways of the Headquarters and towards where he had put his sponsored Alchemists. They were fairly centrally located in the Refuge, though that was mainly due to the territory growing to encompass it and many other buildings completely.

Now that the siege was well and truly over and what gang infighting there was had settled into an uncommon occurrence, the whole territory was flourishing. Well, flourishing was perhaps too bold a claim, but the place was definitely on the rise. Here, near to the Headquarters, the gutters were cleared, the doors were solid and hung on hinges and windows were set with wooden slats to fend off the rain.

Repairs that had been underway had been finished, and the morning sounds were nearly absent of the droning, popping and whistling of skulg. There were also a few stalls appearing, some selling food, while others sold clothes, bandages, remedies and other useful items. Though the people of the Refuge had few copper s to spend and no silver, trade in kind or service was well accepted, so long as your word was trusted.

Fritz only spent a few minutes wandering that inner square, under his grey cloak so as not to be recognised, before he found his way to Ame and Naomi's laboratory. As he did so, he passed by Tallie's. The powerful woman had decided to relocate after all, and her presence was a great boon to the Refuge's safety and stability and to Sylvia herself. That worried Fritz. There was a part of him that knew that all this prosperity wouldn't go unnoticed, and that the Nightshark would come to take her due.

Or that the terrible woman would destroy what had been built in a fit of pride and pique, crushing any perceived challenge to her power. He could only hope that they would be able to gain enough strength to resist her before that time came. He was striving towards that, and not only for the Refuge's sake, but his own, and Sylvia's. Fritz knocked, then entered the Alchemist's building.

It was well-appointed and neatly arranged, and guarded by a large man and a lean woman, members of the militia if he guessed correctly. Which he did. They stared at him distrustfully before they recognised him, then they relaxed, smiled and welcomed him, then called the Alchemists to attend him as he desired. The two bustled out of a back room, stinking of an odorous cacophony of pungencies. Naomi, as usual, was happy to see him, as was Ame, and they each greeted him with warm, if brief, embraces.

Once they had removed their alchemically stained aprons and gloves, that was. A fter those mi ldly awkward hugs, he was received very well indeed, with goods as gifts for his great benefaction. Potions, oils, remedies and antidotes abounded, as well as a new and particularly potent form of healing grease. Naomi then took him aside, away from the sharp eyes of her sister, and provided him with a few poisons that he had asked for.

Three thin paper packets of choking dust, a bottle of sleeping-air, and two vials of some potent, pale liquid.

"Contact poison," Naomi explained in a whisper that could barely be heard over the bubbling of beakers and the crackling of flame.

"A few drops on the skin is all it takes to make one dizzy and weak, pour the whole dose on someone, though, and it should render them unconscious, or dead."

"What of the oil-blood poison?" he asked softly.

"I've attempted it to gather the materials, but they're too difficult and rare in Rain City. It needs things of a fire alignment." Though he was disappointed, Fritz nodded his understanding. He pulled forth some of the numbing-flower petals he had found on his previous Climb.

"Can you make use of these?" he asked, then explained what he knew of them. She pursed her lips, thoughtful rather than angry, and nodded slowly.

"I'm sure there are plenty of uses for such a plant. I'll see what we can do."

"What are you two whispering about?" Ame demanded suspiciously.

"What have you got there?"

"Flowers," Fritz said, smiling innocently.

"My, how gentlemanly," Ame said, unconvinced.

"Are you finally seeking to court my sister? It is about time, though I thought you and that Sid were-""It's nothing of the sort. These flowers are powerful reagents," Fritz claimed. Ame sniffed." I'll be the judge of that."

"Which is why I brought them to you," Fritz stated.

"Very well, now if that's all, I'd like to get back to alchemy. We're very busy," Ame said, accepting a batch of the petals and leaves.

"That's all," Fritz agreed, allowing himself to be shooed away. It was true that they were busy, and he didn't want to endure the overbearingly acrid and astringent scents any longer. He bid the two sisters farewell and left in a hurry. Then he made his way home, through the dark tunnels and back to his estate, though not to peace and quiet as he had hoped. He'd only just had a minute to sit when Cal sought him out about matters of the garden, intrud ing upon him in his study.

"Fritz, glad I could catch you-" Cal began, closing the door behind him. Fritz silenced him with an upheld hand, which caused the man to scowl, and rightfully so. He sighed and lowered his arm.

"My apologies, Cal. It's been a wearysome morning, and I'm out of sorts. What do you need?"

"It has to do with the grounds and the garden," Cal said, his soured expression fading away, mostly.

"What of it?" Fritz asked, attempting to hide his weariness and his other worries.

"Well, I'd like permission to begin planting some of these seeds," Cal said, proffering a stone. Fritz frowned.

"What's that from?"

"The blood-limes, remember?"

"Oh, right," Fritz said.

"Will they damage the willow?"

"No..." Cal hedged.

"Look, I'll be forthright with you, Cal," Fritz said.

"The ruined garden is an eyesore. Anything you can do to mend it is more than welcome. I'm already glad you've done so much for it, and for that you have my most heartfelt thanks."

"Alright..." Fritz held up his hand again, "Honestly, of all the flowers, fronds and other flora, I care most for the willow. It was precious to my mother, and it is precious to me. If it will not harm the willow, I give you full permission to plant whatever you will. And i f it will help the willow bloom bright and blue again, then you are henceforth commanded to do so." Cal rankled at the order, motes of an noyance flashing, but he swallowed dow n whatever retort he had brewing.

Fritz smiled wanly, lowered his hand, then continued more earnestly, "That was speaking as your Lord. As your friend, please, do what you can. And if you need any funds, House Hightide and I will be glad to provide them." Cal nodded slowly.

"Alright, I can do that." He stood there awkwardly for another few moments before asking, "So, can I plant these blood-limes?" Fritz nearly sighed, but suppressed it.

"Yes, plant them. Also, sow some of these if you would." He provided a sack of seeds, those that came from the numbing flowers.

"I think these will be useful materials for Naomi and Ame, so I wish to grow them. They're also quite the shade of blue, easy on the eye."

"Oh, yes, uh, Lord Fritz," Cal said.

"Thanks. I'll do my best."

"No, Cal, it is you that have my thanks," Fritz said. Cal smiled a shy smile, scratched the side of his neck, much like Rosie did at times, then bowed and left, muttering some half-grateful, half-embarrassed words as he did so. With the clunk of the door closing, Fritz returned his attention to his desk and the envelopes upon it. Missives and messages, and an endless stream of them, day after day. Yet, here among the unimportant invitations was a letter he'd been waiting for most keenly.

It was from Duke Whiteship, a response to the ransoming of their House sword. It was an acceptance of most of his terms, though a representative of House Whiteship would meet with him to discuss the particulars. They would do so at the end of the week, in a gentleman's club named "The Silver Sea Society." Fritz had some misconceptions and suspected a trap or ambush. Though whether it was of a political nature or of more violent means, he couldn't say.

Still, he agreed to the allotted appointment most appropriately and sent off his reply once it had been combed for errors or insults by Jess. He didn't make too many mistakes, but there were one or two that he had missed. Jess complimented his progress in that respect as well as his restraint when dealing with his noble foes. Fritz smiled grimly, stating, "I've learned my lesson on offending the nobility."

"You would have to be a fool not to," Jess said.

"And you are no fool. I hope."

"Your hopes are well placed," Fritz claimed. She smiled and left with his letter to Duke Whiteship, sealed and signed and properly worded. Fritz then busied himself with other things, matters that took him out of his study, r efilling important runes that protected the estate, most among them. Then he saw to his suit of sharkskin armour, it was finally finished and now only needed some minor enchantment to bring out the material's wonderful properties.

He had expected the price to be extravagant, and it was in a certain sense; however, with his current wealth and the expected windfall from the ransom, he paid the sixty gold price without much trouble. He also suspected that, due to his status, he was getting a far better bargain than any commoner would. Of course, having a noble, a currently notorious one at that, display the quality of the enchanter's workings would earn them some prestige.

The sewing of the runes would take some days, but it would soon be done, and Fritz would have a set of armour to be truly proud of. Apart from the breastplate, of course, which he had George restore and maintain as best as he could. The apprentice smith turned Climber did a marvellous job, and Fritz thanked him profusely. George just smiled proudly, telling him to think nothing of it. He grew more fond of the man for that.

Fritz still had five days to wait on his meeting with House Whiteship, but he wouldn't walk into any ambush or other malfeasance unaware. So he decided then to spend some of his hours that week scouting and spying. He also determined to make a greater effort to gather rumours at any noble events he was to attend, and he tasked Amathea with the same. If there were any troubles to come, he would know well ahead of time. And so the days continued. Fritz slept deeply, he ate plenty, and he trained hard.

He was diligent in all aspects; he practised, read and made ready. He even visited the Royal Archive, searching for answers to the scholarly questions Sir Needle had no authority to speak on. Alt hough Fritz was granted access to the restricted floors, he didn't delve too deeply into their hoarded knowledge. He was warned that t he tomes up there were dense, dry and many were old to the point of obsolescence, some were the also musings of the misguided or the rantings of madmen.

And more than a few were Techniques that he had no desire, nor capacity to learn. However, there were a couple that would suit the members of his Team, but they weren't to be moved or copied without express permission from the Royal House of Rain. He considered a petition briefly, then decided to let it lie for now. He would rather rely on the King only when he absolutely needed to.

It was a time for preparation; he would gather his strength, hone his skills and discover all he could without incurring dangerous debts. And he expected the same of his Team. They did not disappoint him. Each of them, through perseverance and Sir Needle's tutoring, had grown in power, precision and persistence. And still they pushed for greater heights. There was still one other trouble, the greatest thorn in Fritz's side when it came to preparations.

That was the matter of Rainstone Badges, without which he would not be allowed to enter the Rain Spire. He only possessed two, one pulled from the corpse of the raider and one given to him by the King. He would need more of them; each of his team would need one, yet he was thwarted at every attempt to acquire more. His efforts had proved futile so far, so Fritz made other plans. Difficult and daring ones, and maybe mad ones, too. The risk of being caught was high, and he knew not the perils for failure.

And so, he decided those plans would wait, for now. Still, he gathered the tools and books he needed. Surreptitiously, of course. Eventually, all would be in place, and he would Climb the Rain Spire with his Team. All it would take is time. Provided there were no surprises.