Fritz waited until nightfall, then entered a secret passage built into the back of his closet. It was one that he had discovered with his Door Sense along with a couple of others scattered around the manor. They were common enough in estates such as his, or tales of them were even if those rumours somewhat exaggerated their scope. The few he had found led from room to room, likely made to allow for liaisons involving impropriety or infidelity.

Those hidden, dusty corridors between were also studded with peepholes through which one could peer into lounges and guestrooms. Some of these even looked into his team's private rooms, allowing Fritz to spy on them as he pleased.

Keeping them secret offered obvious advantages; he could lurk within the walls, his household completely unaware of his presence. Yet the thought of spying on his trusty team disgusted him. It would be too villainous a violation.

He intended to inform each of them as soon as he could, without alarming or alerting the servants to the presence of the passages. That way, the team could block the holes as they saw fit. For now, he left them be, unused, if the thick layer of dust could be trusted as an indication.

The secret passage Fritz was currently traversing was not one of the ones used for late-night liaisons or for spying. This one was for escape, for when the Spires would break open or worse, when raiders or usurpers would come. Thankfully, that latter disaster hadn't come to pass in this King's reign.

Fritz's closet had a hatch that opened onto a ladder that led down into a brick tunnel that stretched out past the walls and into a drainage canal. It wasn't the blocked, overwhelmed and overflowing gutters he had come to know well over his struggles in the drowned district. The here rainwater ran clean, clear and uncongested, sloshing down and away. It still smelled terrible, of course, but it was far less clinging and constant than the filth and foulness he had skulked in.

He closed the passage behind him, the bricks lining up perfectly so as to hide the door and the runes carved into its frame. Those, at least, were still alive. Shrouding, it seemed, was less draining than warding. Or perhaps they simply had a greater mana reservoir supplying them, or maybe they were more well-made and efficient. He hadn't had the time to study them for longer than a few minutes when he had found them, and now he could barely spare them a glance.

He would take the time to inspect them further when he had the time, for now he had more pressing matters and wouldn't be distracted.

Fritz pulsed his Awareness and sensed nothing down the dark waterway. The thought occurred to him that it could prove useful to map these tunnels. If his own estate's escape passage led down into these canals, then there certainly must be others that were as equally well disguised, or more intricately hidden, to be found.

Ahead, he could see a curtain of falling water and the grate above it, and there, upon the wall, were handholds to climb up and out. Fritz crept, then clambered. With a hefty push, the iron grate came loose. He held it as he pulsed his Awareness and listened. Rain above and the rushing stream below were all he heard, and he felt no foul omens.

His hand began to itch.

With another push, the grate ground to the side. Fritz raised his head and peered around. He found that he was in an out-of-sight alley. Quick as a cat, he pulled himself up and out, then slid the grate back into place. He wiped his hand on his trousers, then straightened his pack and cloak, a real one in addition to his ethereal one. Then he was off, slipping from shadow to shadow.

The caution wasn't wholly necessary, not with it being night, but he knew he couldn't be too careful.

Painstakingly, he made it to the secluded park without being seen. There had been a close call, almost being seen by two nobles on a romantic stroll, but he had nimbly navigated his way through a hedge to avoid them. He picked a loose leaf from his hair, then opened the pavilion's door, proceeding inside, then crept into the hidden hatch.

Down in the smooth, stone tunnel, Fritz saw a familiar face, though it wasn't who he'd expected.

"Nic?"

"Allo, Shade," the thug replied.

"Why are you here?"

"To escort you," he groused.

"Where's Craig?"

"Sick," Nic said, scowling. "Seein' a Healer, so you know it's bad."

"What's wrong with Healers?" Fritz asked, hoping his tone would be taken as curiosity rather than delight.

"Nothin', he just hates 'em," Nic explained wearily. "And they can cost a lot of gold."

"Doesn't the Nightshark take care of that?"

"Yeah, but then you get fewer favours. That means fewer visits to the harem. And that cutthroat loves his visits," Nic said.

Fritz kept his face bland, stifling a grimace.

"Let's go, I haven't got all night. I got appointments I need to keep," Nic asserted, turning and heading down the passage with his usual loping trudge.

Fritz doubted those words, suspecting that the man only had an appointment with a bottle.

After some minutes of silence, Fritz asked, "Do you have a mind map too?"

"What? Mind map? No," Nic grumbled. "Is that skulg-wart prick still boasting about that? Did he tell you he invented it, too?"

"Cutter did say that. I take it he didn't then?"

"No, he didn't."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause he's a liar. Can't believe a third of what he says. And one night, when he was mighty drunk, I got him to talkin' some truth. Wish I hadn't, to be honest. He wouldn't shut up and admitted to some proper evil stuff. Made my stomach turn worse than the swill I was drinkin'," Nic recalled. "Anyway, he said that he read it in a book. One of the ones in his little hidey-hole library."

"Wardbreaker's den?" Fritz asked.

"That's what he calls it, yeah," Nic said without much interest.

"It is real then? A Technique?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know what the book was titled?"

"No. And I don't care either. It's no use to me, got the important routes memorised," Nic said proudly.

"You don't know all the tunnels then?"

"Nah. I wouldn't want to. That could make me a 'problem,'" Nic said.

"A problem?" Fritz repeated.

"Yeah. Don't want to know too much. You want to know just enough to do your job right. More than that, and you could discover a secret that it would be better not to know," Nic warned.

"Like a Spire?"

Nic shrugged. "Maybe."

"Speaking of Spires," Fritz continued.

Nic sighed. The sound was like the grinding of an old, unoiled mechanism. "So many questions."

"This is pertinent, I want to know about the Climb I'm about to lead," Fritz protested.

"Fine, ask away," Nic said.

"First of all, who am I leading? Are they leveless or have they Climbed a couple of floors?"

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"You'll meet them soon enough. But they aren't leveless. Most of them have survived a floor or two. And a few are Pathers."

"Why would Pathers want Climb again when they could choose to laud their strength over the gutters?"

"More power, why else?" Nic said. "Not everyone in the districts is a lazy sack of squid guts."

"And what exactly will be my duties?" Fritz inquired.

"Duties?" Nic asked. "What do you mean?"

"Am I to take them all the way to the Precipice?" Fritz clarified.

"You're meant to take 'em as high as you can," Nic said. "But there are benefits for getting them to the Precipice."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. If you leave on the sixth, then your crew gets to keep half of the haul. If you get to the top, you get to keep two-thirds."

"That's a good sight better than my first Climb," Fritz accused.

"Yeah, well, that first tax is a bit of a test, you see," Nic explained.

"I don't," Fritz lied.

"Course you do. The rough welcome makes sure you're not some idiot who would throw away his life for the few gold triads he scraped up in the Spire. It's also a lesson on who's in charge. A little magic and some get too big for their boots and need to be beat down a bit."

"Do many fail this test?"

"A few. Most tend to just be glad they're out of the Spire. Not all are maniacs like you and Bert. No offence intended, mind you. You're the good kind. Or as close to the good kind as folks like us ever can be."

Fritz didn't know what to say to the thug's praise, though he quite disliked being considered 'folks like us'.

He wasn't one of them, not anymore.

Nic noticed the pause for what it was and scoffed. "Think you're too good for thievery and thuggery now that you have a manor up in the Palace Ring?"

Fritz held his tongue.

"You'll find that for all their fancy coats and courtly manners, they're just as crooked up there as they are down here. They're worse, really. They have all the gold. They're not starving. They don't have an excuse," Nic grumbled. Overhead, a listless, ghostly red-black cloud of bitter rage boiled.

"How very philosophical," Fritz replied blandly. Nic was right, in a sense, and Fritz himself had been wracked with the same thoughts and some guilt, but the words had struck a raw nerve. "Figure all that out while beating people to death with your bare hands?"

"I have eyes. If you're not blind, it's plain enough to see," Nic replied. He clenched his fists, then loosened them. He then spat to the side, his anger sputtering out like a candle in the rain. "You're a Scout, you'll see it soon."

"Perhaps I will 'observe' such a thing," Fritz said.

Nic glanced his way for one suspicion-soaked second, then shook his head. "Don't bother. It won't change a thing. Just do what the boss says. And be happy with what freedom and gifts she gives you. You'll survive longer."

Fritz nodded hesitantly, then ventured another question, "You give this advice out all the time? Or should I consider myself fortunate?"

"I do dole out my wisdom plenty. No one listens," Nic groused. "Not, until it's too late. By then, my fists are usually bloodied. And they're dead."

They ceased talking for some minutes after that declaration. The thud of boots echoed within the sloping tunnel.

"Are there any Abilities you want me to help this crew of Climbers aim for?" Fritz asked, returning to the previous conversation.

"You think you can? You got some secret knowledge about Abilities?" Nic challenged.

"Perhaps," Fritz hedged.

"If you could teach that Door Sense of yours, it might be worth your while," Nic said.

Fritz shook his head sadly and swiftly lied, "It was an accident in my case. I don't know which of the Clauses was the most important in attaining it."

"Maybe that's best. For you, I mean. An unknown, discreet guide would be more useful to the boss. You could find yourself out of a job. Or worse."

Fritz smiled grimly. "I'll keep that in mind. Anything else?"

"Keep at least half of the Climbers alive, if you can," Nic suggested.

"I can make no such guarantees," Fritz stated. "You know how perilous that Spire is."

"I do." Nic nodded. "It would just do you well if you came out with more than a handful of new Browncoats. Lessen the debts you owe."

Though Fritz doubted how much he really 'owed', he didn't gainsay the man. Nic was only the messenger. And no appeal to fairness or even logic would convince the Nightshark that he wasn't to blame for the Browncoats he had killed. He was the one left standing, so he would be condemned to toiling to replace those he had 'wasted'.

"Lucky you're a Guide. Only that saved you and your mates," Nic said. "The boss was furious, wanted everyone involved with the siege dead and drowned."

"Did she really?" Fritz asked.

"For a few minutes," Nic said. "Then she took the long view of things."

They walked without speaking for some time.

"Any more sage advice?" Fritz asked.

"Stay useful, stay quiet," Nic espoused. "In that order."

Fritz heeded the words, not just because they were sensible but because they aligned with his current goals.

Again, they fell into silence. Nic began to softly hum a crude song. Though he was guttural and gravelly, the deep tone was strangely soothing

It took nearly three hours of twists and turns and occasional sharp descents before Fritz heard the sloshing of waves and the rise and fall of rough voices.

The talk cut off abruptly as he and Nic made their way into the great domed cavern that held the Spire and the lake.

Fritz gripped Quicksilver at the sight of the blue-green light flickering in the distance and its reflection writhing on the water's surface. With an effort of Control, he calmed himself and pulled his eyes away from the Precipice, then stared at the assembled ne'er-do-wells.

To his surprise, he recognised two of them, then a third, brooding, as he usually did, at the edge of the lake. There was Toby, clad in black and standing apart from the two women Fritz knew. One was Mel Malady, whom he had taken as prisoner when she attempted to burn down the Refuge. The other was the woman he'd rescued from the Rat Cleaver, he didn't know her name.

The rest of the group he didn't recognise.

The thieves and thugs stared back, mostly at Nic, who they regarded with fear and respect. When they looked upon Fritz, it was with uncertainty, save those who knew him.

Fritz acknowledged Toby first, "Mr. Blades."

"Scarlet Shade," Toby replied with a sharp, sly smile.

"You're to be part of the Climb?"

"I am," Toby said.

"Jane not joining us?"

"Not in her condition," Toby stated.

Fritz nodded and turned to the other two he had met before.

"Mel," he inclined his head. "I see you're no longer imprisoned. Sid let you go?"

"He did. He's a good man," Mel said. "Saw I was sorry and put me to work 'til I paid for my mistake."

"I bet he did. I bet he put you to hard work," a rough man said, making and obscene thrusting motion. His head was shaved close, and he had all the look and largeness of a bruiser.

There were some chuckles and a few guffaws from the remaining crew. They were rough men, all in the various shapes criminals came in, from bulky and thick-knuckled to lean and clever-handed.

Both Mel and Fritz glared, which caused the laughter to die quickly.

"Course the first thing you do is piss off the Shade, Nail," a weedy man groused. "Idiot."

"Don't call me an idiot, or I'll toss you into the lake," Nail threatened.

"I'd like to see you try squid sucker!"

"Stop," Nic warned.

They ceased immediately, turning wary gazes on the man.

"Good," he continued. "Now you all know why you're here, so I won't waste my breath on tellin' you what you're in for. This is the Shade, he'll be leading you."

"Why him?" one of the thinner, seemingly thievery-aspected men interrupted.

Nic became a blur and was beside the speaker in less than a second. There was a thump, and the smaller man was sent sprawling.

"Because I said so, because the boss says so, and because he's a Scout." Nic glared at the crowd. "Any more questions?"

The struck man slowly got to his feet, rubbing his cheek, shaking his head and keeping his eyes down.

There was silence until Fritz spoke up, "Yes, I have one." Nic's annoyed eyes locked onto his own. He cleared his throat with a quick cough. "We're not going to have to swim again, are we?"

Nic couldn't help but chuckle. "As fun and nostalgic as that might be for you, no, you'll take the boat."

Fritz nodded, thankful that they would be spared the cold water of the lake at least.

"Anything more?" Nic asked.

Fritz shook his head, unable to conjure any more questions.

"Right, then get into the boat and get going," Nic ordered. "Be out in less than a month."

They obeyed, all piling into the boat. It was soon crowded as each of them had packs and weapons. Fritz took the prow, and Toby sat to his right while the rescued woman took his left. Mel found a place next to them.

"Go on, get to rowing," Fritz ordered once all were sitting and steady.

He could see that some bristled at his command, but as they were still under the watchful glare of Nic, they didn't make a fuss and followed the order instead of arguing. Fritz noted those faces that took the most umbrage. He would have to deal with them in due time.

As they made their way across the salty lake, the shimmer of metal fish flashed below the rippling waves. Fritz smiled grimly, remembering his deadly dance with those deep denizens.

Someone spoke to him, but he couldn't hear it over the grunting and the sloshing.

Fritz lifted his gaze. "My apologies, I missed what you said."

The woman he had saved looked down and away from his eyes, unable to meet them.

She was plain, her nose was bent from being broken one too many times, her hair was a dull brown, as were her irises.

"I said, thank you," she repeated in a stronger voice. "For saving me."

"You're welcome," he said easily. "Though I feel I hardly deserve it. Anyone would have done the same in my shoes."

"Untrue, they would have left me," she said sternly. "You carried me all the way to the Refuge. And made sure I got remedies, and food and somewhere to sleep. I won't forget such kindness. I want to join your crew, if you'll have me."

Fritz hesitated. "Is that why you're here?"

She shook her head. "Happenstance. Happy happenstance if you'll allow it."

"It was the Refuge that took you in," Fritz stated. "Join up with Sid if you want to repay me. If you survive the Spire, that is."

The woman wasn't pleased with the answer, but curtly nodded.

"What was your name?" he asked.

"Clover," she said, smiling.

He smiled back.

"What about you, Mel, Toby?" Fritz asked. "Did either of you want to swear fealty to me?"

Toby scoffed, waving the absurdity away.

Mel frowned, "My former gaoler? I think not. I work for Sid."

"Good," Fritz said. "He'll treat you right."

They continued across the lake, the Sunken Spire looming ever closer, and as they did so, Fritz got acquainted with the crew.

Apart from Nail, he knew none of their names, so he asked each in turn.

The weedy man was called Reed, and the thin man who had been punched was named Bucket. Then there were twin thugs, one thick with muscle, the other just thick. Barge and Trudge. Both looked as tough as wrought iron stoves.

Though they answered easily enough, there were the telltale signs of definite misgivings and defiant scheming on the faces of Barge, Nail and Reed. The same faces that had been annoyed at his orders.

Eventually, the boat was by the Spire, and they prepared to descend into the lake, strapping their packs and bags to themselves. Those that had no Ability to breathe water drank down the foul sludge stored in a crate, then at Fritz's direction and in groups of three, they dived.

Fritz, Toby and Clover were the last.

He activated his Eelkin Belt, growing gills on the sides of his neck, painfully. He was absolutely unwilling to drink that disgusting potion ever again.

Fritz stood at the edge of the gently rocking boat, suppressed the fear at the edges of his mind and leapt into the depths. It was just as cold as he remembered. He shivered, then swam downward, dragging his overly buoyant pack down with his weight and no small amount of effort.

With stinging eyes, he watched as the first three of his new crew entered the shining door below. Then it was the next trio, then he, Mel and Toby were before the shimmering plane of prismatic light.

Fritz glanced around one last time, noticing an armoured shark in the distance. He briefly considered baiting it into the Spire, then discarded the thought. He was here to Climb as quickly and as safely as possible.

After steeling himself for the days ahead, Fritz swam forward and passed through the Door.

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