Thane Marrowind…

  Thane was nervous as they crossed through the Guild’s entrance hall, the many bracelets across his wrists jingling their merry tune. He wasn’t nervous because the jovial fat man wasn’t in his stall, nor was he nervous because of the lack of people walking across the normally busy area. It was something else.

  Why would Gerald pick a teenager to run the Guild? What’s his endgame, assuming Hollis really is still alive?

  His fellow councilors followed his lead as he moved parallel to the risen tunnel of the Uncalled way. They’d received a letter from the Guildmaster Pro Tempore, one Cassio Vale. It wasn’t the most polite reading he’d ever done, but it was direct, and he greatly appreciated that fact. There was nothing worse than those who beat around the bush when a good clipping would do.

  That Gerald was attacked right outside of their chambers was a great mark of shame for him. The Council and the Guild had worked hand in hand for years without any sign of malfeasance or malcontent. Then, incursions, that business at the Red Tower, and now this. He was called to the Atrium on the word of a boy not much older than his daughter.

  He’d heard about Cassio Vale. How could he not have? His daughter sang his praises, his name passed from mouth to ear all across the northern district.. He’d even spotted the issue with the walls before something tragic could happen.

  But Thane Marrowind didn’t get to his position by listening to those who were in their diapers when he was fighting for his life. Figuratively, that is. After all, a Merchant’s sword was their tongue, and every day was a battle for all they were worth.

  He rolled his sword around in his mouth as they made it to the entrance. Stepping inside was a stark change, as the room's darkness had only one villain. Beside him, his fellow Councilors had to look up at the incandescent glare coming from a single, large bulb positioned behind the Book of Callings.

  Cheeky, that light wasn’t there before.

  The boy-king himself stood there in his standard brown robes, a hand on the pedestal holding the artifact they all gave thanks for with every fiber of their being. Without the wondrous artifact only inches from his fingers, they’d have perished long ago.

  Thane’s Money-Wandering ability kicked off as he analyzed everything in the room.

  The Robes the boy wore were worth a pretty thirty crests, as all Guild Robes held the same self-cleaning and temperature control abilities stitched into them. He’d tried for years to get them to pass over how it was done, but to no avail. ‘Guild secret,’ Hollis had told him with a laugh. He’d laughed too, though he’d cried inside at the lost opportunity.

  The bag on his shoulder was worth…That can’t be right, can it? Five-hundred Crests? Where on earth did he get it, and why does it look so plain? Slap some gold on that bag, youngster. Show off your prestige. What on Earth do you and Orla even talk about?

  Naturally, the Book of Callings showed only a series of question marks; its value unknowable and unattainable. How he wished he could figure out how to get one himself. Wouldn’t that be something? A Marrowind as a Guild Master?

  The world’s pockets would tremble.

  As for Cassio Vale himself, he wasn’t much to look at. From this distance, Thane couldn’t tell if his eyes were green or brown. His nose was a little too sharp, his chin, a little too round, and there was a shock of light brown hair spilled out across his forehead. He wasn’t unattractive, simply plain.

  A day at a spa could do wonders for the lines under his eyes. But he wasn’t here to inspect the boy’s appearance. They’d asked to speak to him, and he’d replied with his own terms. Thane could respect that.

  The blonde and gray-haired woman on his left cleared her throat, which could mean trouble. They’d agreed that he would speak, but he’d wanted to size the boy up first. That no longer appeared to be in the cards.

  Every member of the Council was chosen from the quadrants of the city itself. Helen Ward, who was about to speak, was from the east, having spent the last twenty years of her life running a Masonry Enterprise famed for their wares and her surly attitude. To his right stood the no-nonsense Marcus Flint, a retired Colonel from the pre-shaping world. And to his right stood Saria Vennt, the representative of the Depot and his ally in wanting to speak to the boy with reason.

  But as Ward took a step forward, he already knew this wasn’t going to go well.

  “So, here we are, Vale,” she said in a tone that was not the most pleasant he’d ever heard. “Are you ready to speak about the terms of Liora’s defense? Where’s Vex?”

  “Otherwise occupied,” The boy’s voice said from in front of the glinting light. “I know about the letter you sent him.”

  What letter? What don’t I know here?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ward countered, “If Officer Vex has told you anything beyond the Council’s intent to-”

  “I read it, if you’re wondering.” He stepped down from the light, finally giving the Councilors a real view of the young man. His face could’ve been cast in stone for all the emotion he saw there. “Officer Vex was kind enough to provide it for me. Quite the,” He glanced at the light behind him for a moment. “Illuminating moment.”

  “Enough of this hogwash,” Flint said, stepping forward in those heavy boots he always wore. “You need to step aside and let us control the war efforts. You’re what? Eighteen?”

  “Eighteen and two months,” Cass corrected.

  “Pschh,” Flint got out, ignoring the look Ward was trying to send his way. “No eighteen-year-old should be in charge of the defense of a city, let alone the skirmishes out at the Red Tower. I was a full-bird Colonel before the world went to hell in a handbasket. I can manage this city far better than some young jumped-up teenager that Hollis feels good about.”

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  “Were you tested before you came in?” Cass said, and Thane saw his expression change from stone to something even harder. He also noted the boy’s eyes kept ticking to the right, as if he had a screen updating for him.

  “What does that have to do with anything? And what do you mean by testing?”

  “It’s a simple thing, really,” Cass reached into a robe pocket and pulled out a thick silver circle. “All you have to do is push this button here, and then we can have a real conversation.”

  “No,” Flint took another step forward, and it felt like the shadows in the room drifted closer. “You don’t have the right to tell the Council what to do. The Guildmaster is only one of five, not one above five.”

  Thane, who’d been a silent observer this whole time, activated another ability: Arguments Worth. His mind became inundated in a moment with the attacks and ripostes that both Vale and Flint were about to make, as well as likely endings. The ability had come in handy numerous times in the past, particularly during high-stress negotiations where things could turn on a dime. Sadly, it didn’t show the future; it only increased his ability to infer and make logical conclusions in the blink of an eye.

  Stepping forward, he decided to take the plunge and lay his cards down, “I’ll do it. Hand it over, Vale.”

  The boy looked at him and subtly tilted his head, “Of course, and thank you, Councilor Marrowind. But to prove that you have nothing to fear, I’ll go first.” Lifting it and rolling back the sleeves of his robe, he pushed the button. A light jolt of sparks lit up as his face twitched, then it was over. He showed everyone his pinked skin. “It only hurts for a moment.”

  Flint took a light step back, “I’m close to eighty years old, not some young thug like yourself. I’ll not subject myself to this treatment. I’m a Councilor of Liora for god’s sakes!” His voice echoed throughout the Atrium. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To disable the Council so we can’t mess with your plans.” He looked toward Thane and Saria for backup, but neither provided any.

  “Your approval isn’t required, and you’re not going to alter my plans either way,” The boy said with a hint of steel in his eyes. “I’ll say this plainly, you are all going to take this test, or you’ll not leave. Somebody knew that Gerald Hollis was on his way to the Council Chambers.” Two more lights were turned on, brightening the room perceptively. “Somebody informed our enemies that the most powerful person in the city was vulnerable.” The sound of several steps could be heard as people filtered into every exit. “And now, with you all here, we’ll know once and for all if the Council has been compromised.”

  Ward stepped up, her movement quick for her age as her eyes traveled across the many staring faces in the room. One thing Thane noted with a sweaty quickness was that they were all wearing armor. She cleared her throat again, “This will prove nothing except that the Temporary Guild Master is abusing his newfound power to attack those in democratically elected positions. Liora chose us to lead them, not you. You were simply handed the opportunity.”

  “Not quite,” He shook his head, “I’ve been reliably told by Guild Master Hollis himself that I was handpicked to not only be a QuestWright, but to lead should anything happen to him. There has to be a reason he didn’t select an experienced military man like Colonel Flint, or even someone with connections like you, Mrs. Ward. There were even better choices to make within the Guild and Companies themselves, but my name was the one drawn, and I intend to see through his wishes. To protect this city from without, as well as within. Now,” He lifted the silver dial again, “Mr. Marrowind, you offered to go first, I believe.”

  “That I have, young man.” Thane stepped forward, the light jingle of his jewelry set against the room's somber, deafening silence. Across the top and bottom, grim expressions met him, but he didn’t spend his time looking at them.

  Vale held up the apparatus, and with a quick push of the button, Thane felt a scorching spark enter his hand from it. It stung a little, but aside from a strange tingling sensation, it left just as quickly as it had arrived. He held up his unblemished hand, a slight rosy complexion now found on his skin.

  “Satisfied?”

  Vale nodded, “I am, thank you, Councilor. If you’ll please step to the side.” He nodded to the right, which Thane accepted with equanimity.

  Saria Vennt stepped up next. She was usually a smiling, happy woman who rarely said anything bad about anyone. All she wanted was to represent the Depot, take care of her kids, and see Liora through whatever crises may arise. But the battles and incursions had taken their toll, and there was no smile on her face as she pressed the button. She stepped beside him next.

  “And now the other half,” Vale said expectantly. “If one of you would please step forward.”

  Flint crossed his arms. “I don’t think so.”

  “This sets a dangerous standard,” Ward snapped. “Today it’s Changelings, tomorrow it’s political dissidents. You want unchecked power, Vale. But, and I say this under protestation…I’ll do your test, just so you can be sure I’m not some kind of infiltrator.”

  Vennt nodded, “That’s wise. It doesn’t really hurt. Honestly, compared to dealing with needles in the old world, this was barely anything at all.” She would know, as she’d worked in a medical warehouse before the Reshaping. “Just hop on up-”

  Flint’s jaw clenched as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his temple, far too slow for the cool room. His eyes darted once to Vale, then to the guards, before he yelled. “No! I’m an elected official, and I won't be bullied by some kid. I-I fought in wars before your parents were born!”

  Ward looked at him, “Marcus…we should just…look, I’ll go first.”

  “I said no!” He yelled out, his voice rebounding throughout the room as he took two long steps away from the dial. He didn’t see Vale nod to a group of people in the back, but Thane did. Five armed and armored individuals came forward quietly, all of their eyes on the two Councilors who hadn’t yet been tested.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this,” Ward said, stepping forward compared to Flint’s backward glances. “I will do it, just to prove how wrong the new Guild Master is.”

  The boy nodded, holding out the dial, “If you will.”

  She grew closer and looked him in the eyes directly, “Know this, Vale. When you’re proven wrong, I won’t be leaving your side again.” As Cassio matched her stare, Thane never took his eyes off her.

  Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he could’ve sworn there was something lightly covering her hand. She pressed the button, a light grimace showing on her face, then stepped back. Shaking her arm, she lifted her hand and showed rosy skin a higher hue than Vale’s own, but it could be excused for her age.

  There was a sense of victory in her eyes, “And there you have it. I’m not a changeling.”

  Vale gave her a light smile, “Thank you, Councilor. I’m sorry for the precautions. In our war meeting earlier, we discovered two changelings and now feel the need to test everyone who wishes to be involved in Liora’s defense. They…did not go down quietly, I’m afraid.”

  “Hrmmph,” She grunted, stepping over beside Thane, who gave her a little distance. Was there something on her hand, or not?

  Vale held out the silver dial to the last Councilor.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” the old Colonel said, his hand reaching toward his hip. Another hand found it instead as Vex blurred forward.

  “Now now, Councilor. Let’s get this done nice and easy,” he pulled a silver circle from his own pocket. “Let’s make this quick, things to do, yes?”

  “Vex! You’re a part of this?” Flint said with disbelief.

  “I’m a member of Liora, no?” The Silver officer replied, pushing the dial into the old man’s hand, “When this is done, let me tell you about-” He pushed the old man’s thumb against the dial, then all hell broke loose.