Archduke Emmyth reclined almost horizontally in the barber’s chair that had been wheeled into his luxurious chambers. The Royal Barber reached into his beard with a pair of tweezers, plucking out another gray hair and causing the ruler to flinch.

  “Dammit, man. That one hurt.”

  The barber stood up straight and gave an exasperated sigh.

  “The huemasters make dyes that are most effective, Your Grace. None of this is neces…”

  The Archduke snapped at the man, cutting him off in mid sentence.

  “I don’t want them dyed, you imbecile. I want them gone.”

  “Of course, Your Grace. My apologies.”

  As the barber leaned back in with his tweezers, a voice called hesitantly from the doorway.

  “Galathorn bel Thane is requesting an audience, sire.”

  Emmyth sat up quickly, waving the barber away in irritation. The Spymaster’s next report wasn’t scheduled for another three days.

  “Leave me. And take that chair out of here. I will summon you again when I am ready.”

  The man bowed and gathered up his things as quickly as possible before wheeling the cumbersome chair out of the royal quarters.

  “Send him in.”

  Galathorn came stalking into the room like a cat, sharp eyes missing nothing. The wiry man stopped before the Archduke and offered a low bow.

  “I have news, Your Grace.”

  “Well, obviously you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have news. Get on with it.”

  Emmyth caught the smirk that accompanied another bow, but let it go so as not to prolong his wait.

  “I have obtained confirmation that the young man arrested at the Great Library some time back is, in fact, a rogue godlaced.”

  “What? You assured me weeks ago he was not. In fact, you said you pulled our agent from the case.”

  “That is so, Your Grace. And while I did dismiss our agent…well, never mind. That is both complicated and irrelevant. It was another informant in Janekstown who supplied me with this knowledge.”

  “How reliable is this informant?”

  “Not very. However, I was able to corroborate her story with other sources. The library thief was denied entrance to the god tower because Janek was at odds with his lineage. There were numerous witnesses to the incident.”

  “And by at odds, you mean…?”

  “There can be only one explanation, sire. A divine thread.”

  Emmyth began pacing, mind racing at the news.

  “Does the Order know of this?”

  “If not, they soon will. The Order has informants of their own.”

  The Archduke cursed, kicking a chair and sending it tumbling across the floor to explode into splinters against the stone wall. Galathorn winced at the casual destruction. It was easy to forget this foppish man had once driven back the bugbear hordes alongside his brother, the King.

  “Dammit, we could have had him and you allowed him to slip through my grasp.”

  The Spymaster held up a placating hand.

  “I have not come to you unprepared, sire. I have a plan.”

  There was no verbal prompt for him to continue this time, just a steady glare laden with threat. Galathorn swallowed and continued.

  “Do you recall the artifact you sold to the Mage’s Guild for a considerable sum?”

  “Of course I recall, you fool. What of it?”

  “The MerScales Bank is transporting the item to the Mage Guild headquarters in the Free City of Shan. It departed Old Valen and will pass through Janekstown early tomorrow.”

  “What on Tela does this have to do with anything? How MerScales transports the goods is none of my concern. I have the utmost confidence in their discretion and security.”

  “What if we make it your concern?” He held up a hand to forestall another protest. “Please hear me out, Sire. We cannot simply give away patents of nobility to bring this rogue godlaced into our fold. The political cost amongst the nobles would be far too high, to say nothing of fallout from the Order. We can, however, issue a [Quest]. If it is worthy enough, such a reward would be accepted by the court.”

  Emmyth calmed down considerably as Galathorn spoke and began tapping his chin thoughtfully.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “And guarding a priceless royal treasure on a perilous journey would be just such a [Quest]. It has certainly been done in the past, and it need only be plausible, not perfect. What of the Order? They will not stand idly by and let us snatch a godlaced from their grasp.”

  “I have arranged at some cost to provide the Myth Seekers with anti-scrying amulets.”

  The Archduke frowned.

  “By ‘some cost’ do you mean my cost?”

  Galathorn bowed.

  “Just so, Your Grace. I believe it a worthy investment to keep the Order from tracking our prize. My agents will take further measures to obfuscate their trail and send out decoys. We only await your leave to issue the [Quest], Sire.”

  “Bring me Guildmaster Senora.”

  ***

  Raith sat on his bed with his head in his hands, trying to figure out how to tell his friends he was leaving them to go on the run. The Order wasn’t stupid. When word got out about what happened at the tower, they would put two and two together and send Templars after him. It wasn’t a matter of if, only when.

  He couldn’t put the team in that kind of danger.

  Everyone went to drop their stuff off back in their rooms before reconvening back in Raith’s. The first one to return was Thea. She didn’t say anything, just came over and sat down next to him, putting a comforting hand on his back.

  Nyhm was next, with Zinny trailing close behind. Even the normally talkative pixie recognized the mood and stayed silent. The elfling came over and put a hot mug of tea in Raith’s hands. It smelled of lavender and mint, with a hint of something else that reminded him of home.

  “What is it?”

  “A calming blend. It will help with the anxiety, but won’t make you foggy.”

  Raith gave an appreciative nod and took a sip. It was the perfect temperature, and almost immediately he felt a warm wave of serenity follow the heat of the tea into his stomach and spread out to the rest of his body.

  “This is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

  They sat there for a while, Raith sipping his tea and everyone lost in their own thoughts. Thea was the first to break the silence.

  “Where the hell is Tolliver?”

  As if summoned by his name, the noble burst into the room with a flurry of activity. He wore a look of near panic as he thrust a silver amulet into each person’s hand.

  “Put these on, quickly!”

  With quizzical looks, they put the necklaces on. Even Zinny, whose chain was far too long and hung down past her knees.

  “Oooh, pretty,” she said. “Does this mean we’re married?”

  “What’s going on, Tolliver? What are these?”

  “Anti-scrying amulets. They know of your [Divine Skill].”

  The words hit Raith like a runaway cart. His stomach sank and it became harder to breathe. It must have been the effects of the tea, because the words, no matter how frightening, didn’t cause Raith to spiral off into a panic.

  He was still able to think clearly enough to understand the implications of the noble’s statement.

  “How do you know that?”

  Tolliver’s pale face flushed and his hands began to shake. He took a step backwards and turned his head away without answering.

  “How do you know, Tolliver?”

  When the [Mage] looked back up, his face was contorted with grief, and tears stood out in his eyes.

  “My father is Spymaster Galathorn bel Thane. I was sent here as an agent for the Archduke.”

  Thea shot to her feet and charged the noble. He brought up his hands defensively, but she shoved him hard and sent him tumbling backwards to the ground.

  “Give me one good reason not to stomp you into paste, you traitorous pieces of shit.”

  Tolliver looked past her, speaking quickly to Raith, hands still raised to ward off another attack.

  “I was removed from the assignment when we arrived at the monastery. I refused to leave the team, in spite of my father’s insistence.” He looked up with pleading eyes. “Raith, I knew long before and said nothing.”

  It was certainly possible the [Mage] had overheard a careless discussion. Especially if he was actively listening for it.

  Eavesdropping. Betraying him.

  A cold rage rose inside Raith’s chest, driving away the fear at being discovered. He stood and loomed over the noble, resisting the temptation to reach for his weapon.

  “If you kept my secret for so long, why tell them now? Why the amulets?”

  “It wasn’t me! Everyone saw what happened at the tower. My father contacted me to say his informants have already spread the word, and the Order will soon be seeking you out. He has a plan to protect you.”

  The cold rage turned hot.

  “Protect me?! By sending a spy to my team and ensnaring us in some royal scheme? I want nothing of his ‘help’, nor yours.”

  Tollvier clasped his hands together.

  “Please just listen. You don’t need to agree to anything, just listen.”

  Nyhm stepped up and placed a hand on Raith’s shoulder.

  “I think we should hear what he has to say.”

  Thea glared at the elfling, but Nyhm knew her rage was only for the [Mage] and he returned her stare calmly. She spun back to Tolliver and prodded him with a hoof.

  “Start talking.”

  His head bobbed up and down and he swallowed.

  “Even as we speak, my father is sowing misdirection to foil the Order’s attempts to find you. There is a [Quest] awaiting us at the Adventurer’s Guild to guard a caravan to Shan. The reward is a patent of nobility. Once you are a Lord, you will be out of the Order’s reach forever.”

  As much as he wanted to just punch the noble and throw him bodily from the window, Raith considered the plan. Aside from the fact that he had no desire to ever be a Lord, it seemed like a good one as long as the Spymaster could keep the Templars off their back long enough to complete the [Quest]. He looked at Thea.

  “What do you think?”

  She glared down at Tolliver, then looked up and frowned.

  “It’s better than trying to stay ahead of the Templars for the rest of your life.”

  Raith turned back to the [Mage] and gestured around the room to his teammates.

  “What if one of them gets the patent of nobility?”

  Tolliver shook his head.

  “The [Quest] is worded to ensure that all on the team receive one to avoid any such complications. Although it will not benefit me, as I am already a noble.”

  “What makes you think you’re coming with?” Thea demanded.

  “There are only three members without me.”

  “Hey, I’m a Myth Seeker, too,” Zinny protested.

  “That is true, but you are not bound to the team by the [Quest]. Unless you intend to recruit a stranger immediately, I must go with. When the [Quest] is completed, you can be rid of me, if that is your wish.” A moment later, he added in a small voice. “I know it is not mine.”

  Raith paced back and forth. He considered activating [Staccato] to think this through, but he needed to move around. There was too much pent up energy in his storm of conflicting emotions to sit still.

  Aside from everything else, the road to Shan was perilous even when you weren’t being chased by Templars. The leg east was fine, but when you got to the Ahrnzee Plains that changed dramatically.

  Hydra grass for countless miles in every direction. The eight foot tall grass was named for the fact that if you cut one blade down, seven more seemed to spring up in its place within hours. Hidden in that indomitable grass were all manner of dangers, not the least of which were scytheclaw tigers and dire ostriches. To say nothing of the occasional bugbear tribes and hob burrows who had no compunction against robbing any passing caravans.

  And yet, all of that was still better than the alternative.

  He looked up to see everyone staring at him as he paced around the small room.

  “Alright, Tolliver. Let’s go accept this [Quest]. But make no mistake, after this is over we are through. Do you understand me?”

  The noble gathered himself up off the floor and hung his head.

  “I do, indeed, understand.”

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