Jake left Ivaldi’s with a clearer understanding of his role in everything, and a better grasp of how deeply the Triarchy had ruined his homeland.

  All those Dungeons, most of them new replacements to those bound to higher tiered classers, and all of them kept at the very base of their tiers for years on end.

  Who knew how many would have advanced if only there had been a Dungeon Noble here?

  It was a question that Jake had never given too much thought to, but now that he knew what was truly at stake, it ate at him. Decades of inactivity might seem like nothing to something as incomprehensible as Ivaldi, but Jake hated it.

  He remembered his vision of reality from his Patron, of those things beyond the borders of existence, circling. Waiting. Hungry.

  If the Dungeons kept that border intact, then Jake would bind every single one he could find.

  A cold that went beyond the cool evening air seeped into Jake’s bones and he hurried back to his companions.

  “So, how did it go?” Alan asked, perking up as Jake joined them. “What did Ivaldi say?”

  “There’s a lot I can’t tell you,” Jake said, taking a moment to separate out the things Ivaldi had shared with him into two groups. What he could share, and what would eat at his dreams. “Dungeons tier up, and then they move on. The one here is a new one altogether, starting its journey.”

  Realising that Jake had answers, they all jumped in with questions about the whole thing, only to realise that Jake couldn’t share much more.

  Eventually giving up on it, they made their way back to the inn through the side streets and disused paths of the town. It wouldn’t do for them to be spotted by the guards just yet.

  Once they were back, Jake used what Wyrdgeld he had to advance to the next rank, readying himself for what was to come.

  In a fit on enthusiasm, Jake brought both his Delver’s Will and Lesser Wyrd Manifestation Abilities to the fifth rank, while investing his Plexus Points into The Vengeful Serpent.

  Using the points on Surtiss had been a tough choice, as it meant turning down a rank four Boon. Jake had committed himself when he took the Boon, and he intended to follow through on that commitment.

  Moby had saved his life and been a surprisingly helpful combatant at times. If Surtiss could do the same, it would be worth far more than a more powerful spear or dagger.

  -**-

  Regrouping the next day, Jake found that Aspen, Gargan and Alan had all moved to the third rank of their tier, and had improved their Abilities to boot.

  Nepthys sat quietly in the corner as they discussed their changes, and Jake felt a pang of guilt. He disliked this feeling of leaving her behind, and he knew she hated it just as much. There wasn’t anything they could do right now, though.

  Even if Nepthys went hunting in the local area, there was too much chance of her being caught without them, or of them being discovered and having to run while she was elsewhere.

  The focus had been on getting Jake to the third tier, so now it was time to do the same for her. He hadn’t told her of this part of his idea, framing it instead solely as a way for them to try and actually survive all this.

  Jake didn’t know much about Nepthys, but he knew she’d object to anything that felt like him putting his own goals aside to help her. Which was why he hadn’t told her.

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  Her success and advancement meant just as much as his own did, after all, no matter how much she protested.

  The first stage had been getting the Dungeon to tier up, though that had been somewhat complicated by another Dungeon doing so elsewhere first. Hopefully, the second stage of the plan would be enough to counteract that muddying of the water.

  Whistling soundlessly to himself, Jake wandered into Casthorpe, using the main streets rather than sticking to the shadows and less-used paths as they had been since they’d arrived.

  The Triarchy guards here were predominantly first tier classers, and they were far from the elite of their forces at that, so avoiding them had been fairly straightforward so far. Now, however, Jake took great pleasure in seeming to accidentally walk out in front of one of them and gasp, locking eyes with the man.

  Grey Wyrd flashed in the man’s eyes as he used some sort of Ability, and Jake smiled inwardly as he saw the guard’s eyes widen with shock. He had a feeling that the Ability had just marked him as a non-citizen, which was exactly what he wanted.

  Turning on his heel, Jake ran back down the street, being careful to keep his pace slow enough to be that of a classer roughly midway through their second tier. There was no sense in giving away his actual strength just yet.

  “Stop! Stop by order of the Triarchy!” The guard’s voice boomed out excessively loudly as he chased after Jake, alerting just about everyone nearby and achieving very little.

  Waiting until he was out of view, Jake put on a burst of speed and lost his pursuer before shifting back to his more careful way of moving as he started back to the safehouse. His part was done, but each of his companions would be doing something similar throughout the town.

  None of them had paid anything approaching a citizen tax in quite a long time, so they were all tarred by the same brush in the eyes of the average Triarchy guard.

  An hour from now, there would be a handful of sightings of non-citizen classers, and that, combined with the change in the Dungeon, would be enough to draw some serious attention.

  -**-

  They lay low after that, relying on Gordon and a few other members of the resistance to keep watch on Casthorpe and feed back what was happening. It felt strange to not even be doing a single delve each day, and after three days of waiting, Jake was all but bouncing off of the walls with pent up energy.

  It didn’t help that this damn waiting was the most agonising thing he’d ever done. So much was riding on his plan, and there was so very many things that could go wrong at almost any point. He’d listened carefully, judged and made his call, but now, in the lull, he doubted himself.

  Then, on the fourth day since they’d drawn the attention of the guards, Gordon came bursting into the safehouse. “He’s here!”

  Jake lowered the dagger that he’d drawn, his heart pounding as he caught Gordon’s gaze. “Is it him, not just one of his people?”

  “Yes, it was confirmed,” Gordon said, holding up a piece of paper. “This is where he’s staying.”

  “Then we need to act now.” Jake was already on his feet and heading for the message he’d already written, and the carrier that Varin had fashioned for them. “We’ve no idea how long it will take until he gets his bearings and finds us. If that’s even something he can do.”

  “Gods, I’m trembling at the thought,” Aspen said with a slightly manic laugh. “What a fight that would be!”

  “If it comes to that, you must all flee,” Ari said calmly, his tone almost serene. “I will be able to hold him off for a while before they overwhelm me.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Jake said firmly, strapping the carrier onto Moby’s foot and slipping the piece of paper into it before sealing the top with the cap that Varin had made. Ari’s newfound dedication was somewhat disquieting, but it was at least better than him drinking himself to death. “Now, Gordon. Explain the directions to Moby.”

  Gordon did so, if a little self-consciously, and Jake checked with Moby to make sure the duck understood before opening the door and unceremoniously chucking him into the air.

  Moby’s wings snapped out and he took flight with a single reproving quack, the metallic effect on his feathers glinting in the sun as he climbed high into the sky and angled to head into Casthorpe.

  “And the die is cast,” Jake said, turning to the others with a laugh. “I feel like I want to throw up.”

  “You and me both,” Alan said, shaking his head and absently rubbing his stomach. “I’m going to get an ulcer at this rate.”

  “We have some hours until we need to leave, yes?” Gargan asked, waiting for Jake to nod before going into the kitchen and retrieving mugs for them all. Opening his pack, the taciturn classer pulled out a slender bottle and poured them all a measure of clear liquid before knocking his back and refilling the mug.

  “Now that’s a damn good idea,” Jake said with a chuckle, taking the mug offered to him and knocking back the slightly sweet liquor it held. The immediate burn in his throat slowly travelled down to his gut, warming him and settling his nerves a little.

  As he’d said, the die was cast now, all that was left was to see where it took them.