Ser Terry and the other two potential partiers are nowhere to be found. Divinations show they’ve left the city entirely, though not in one group. Clara and Terry are together, but Bart left separately though in the same general direction. More than that I can’t say since they seem to be using their own divinations.

It’s silly – I want to chase after them, but why? What am I going to do? Track them halfway across the empire to give them party invites? I’d just be a nuisance. Whatever they’re doing must be important since they didn’t even wait to hear their results. Ser Terry may have auto-passed without interviewing, but the other two did not. They went to their interviews, which happened to be in the first few days after the exam, but by the time Erika had come over they had already gone.

…Sigh. I could always just invite others, but I don’t want to. They have their own celebrations with their relatives and prior friends and inviting them over just to showcase my lack would be awkward at best.

So, I’m stuck spending the remaining month before the entrance ceremony much the same as the previous one. The only difference is that the spells I’m learning are from the Biblio, and I give myself more time for recreation. More walks in the garden, going to a few operas which Alan assure me are excellent and finishing a few paintings.

Then, after days of waiting to give an invitation, an invitation comes for me.

Greg, the gambling merchant, has followed the suggestion to reinvite me to a game after the exam. I itch to go, seeking distraction, but in a fit of pique I refuse, citing lack of funds. True enough, I have been growing my stash by selling medical herbs but am below Alan’s mandated buffer. Still, the reason has more to do with not wanting to deal with the scheming, prideful man – feeling the gambling to be poor compensation for the disappointment of vanished friends.

I do however suggest inviting me again, as is proper, in a couple of weeks, right before the entrance ceremony. Giving me time to get my funds in order and (which I do not mention) my emotions.

Not much happens in the meantime. I finish learning the cleaning spell from the Biblio, made easier from association of accrued sacrifices, and using the cleaning enchantments on my several magic items as tokens. Sadly, I make little progress on the liquefying beam which is the essential part of any future body disposal.

Of greater excitement is the birth of a litter of kittens. Not the first since I started caring for the neighbourhood cats, but the first that was conceived under my care. I feel exaltation upon holding a kitten up to my chest, our warmths mingling, and realize the emotion is its god offering the intermediate boon for my service. I eagerly accept and feel the world shift around me as my senses drastically improve once more. Hearing and smell are the most obvious boosts and are almost overwhelming at first. No doubt my night vision is similarly improved, though I can’t tell in this light.

With the boost to perception and control, I almost feel able to best Alan in a bluffing game – almost.

So, when the next invitation comes, I feel eager to test my new sensory prowess and accept without hesitation. So confident in my new ability that I feel victory might even be more thrilling than defeat.

It is obviously a trap – a game set up with the sole intention of divorcing me from my funds. Innately nefarious but not seemingly sinister until I note the suggestion to not inform Alan of the game. After all, I don’t want him to get in the way of good fun, do I? Almost reasonable, but clearly suspect. It suggests a plan much more malevolent than I first assumed.

Good… I suppress the thought. I’m going there to win, to prove myself with my new powers. I won’t let myself be pushed into a corner, to be forced to sate myself. I am in control.

As such, while I don’t tell Alan as suggested, I do leave a note on my bed saying where I’ll be.

The game is held at a shady warehouse in a seedy part of the city. I say seedy, but only relative to the normally gleaming Arkothan order. The streets are still paved and lit at night. Guards still patrol alert to trouble, though less often than in more affluent sections.

The game is set for dusk, so I arrive an hour early to scout it out. I walk the perimeter under my concealment spell, looking for exits and ambushes. My vigilance is rewarded as I spot an entrance concealed by shadow and patterned as part of the brick wall.

I climb a vantage point across the street and use the silver rod to detect people inside. I only find two, but half an hour later a group of five thugs go into the alley with the hidden door and don’t come out.

So, seven, so far. The group of five all seemed enhanced, but nothing major. No down and out squires scrounging coin with cheap violence. Just thugs, not trying to hide their boons in a passive attempt to intimidate.

As seven is two too many for the invited game, I climb back down and slink next to the wall to listen as the two groups meet. The walls are thick, but not thick enough to block the cat god’s hearing.

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“So, what’s the job?” a gruff voice says.

“Swindling,” a second voice says. “Cocky kid won some money from the boss. So, we’re going to take him for everything he’s worth.”

“All this trouble just to rip a kid off?” a third voice says with disdain. “The boss is starting to lose it.”

“He’s a noble,” the second voice explains. “Besides he’s not the target, Linhal is. They’re cousins, in fact, Linhal called him his nephew. So, we get the kid in debt and use it against Linhal. At worst, we get some coin. Even better we threaten to tell Linhal, and the kid gets stupid about the whole thing and do stuff for us. Maybe we can even figure out how Linhal suddenly got so much money, and we get in on the action.”

“…Alright,” the third voice agrees after consideration, “don’t see the need for so much muscle though.”

“Call it plan B,” the second voice says. “It’s best if we don’t have to resort to violence, but the boss isn’t willing to lose more money to the kid. If things go wrong, we move to kidnapping. Linhal clearly cares for the kid and will pay for him.”

“Swindling to abduction is a bit of a leap. Won’t the kid report us?” The third complains.

“You let us worry about the watch. We have ways of removing evidence.”

“Memory drugs? Shit, you guys know how to pile on the trouble.”

“It’s our trouble to have. You’ll be compensated.”

“And if the cousin catches wind and decides to make trouble personally? Ain't no amount of compensation make it worthwhile handling a knight.”

“Aw, it’s not like he’s a real knight anyhow. You guys can take him, and if you can’t the boss is coming with some special muscle to help.”

An absurd claim, clearly made by someone who has never seen Alan fight and just heard of his unusual approach second-hand. From observing their entrance I’d say they all have typical strength-based combat boons, but nothing more than basic.

“Besides,” the second voice continues, “it won’t come to that. The kid won’t know the game will be five to one, and Slim here has a trick where cards just, heh, disappear up his sleeve. The kid won’t know what hit him.”

Having heard enough I head back to my waiting spot. Perhaps I should retreat. Perhaps I should have opened the secret door and incinerated the lot of them, then taken Greg to the watch for conspiring to abduct a noble. But I don’t. Rather than sensibly feeling trepidation at the forces arrayed against me, (forces that were erroneously assessed as being equal to Alan) I feel a thrill at going against them and coming out on top.

Besides, if they’re the ones starting the violence…

A carriage pulls up and deposits Greg and a heavily armed lithe muscular woman. Her movements are graceful and powerful – I don’t think she’s a squire, but likely has an intermediate combat boon. The ‘special muscle’ I would guess. I hold back laughing at the thought of her beating Alan. She’s clearly competent from a glance, but nothing that makes me think she can handle a knight.

But do I think I can take her? It’s hard to say. She’s probably stronger than me, while my reflexes and coordination are better. Though something odd strikes me – the thugs were worried about fighting Alan, but nobody mentioned me being a mage. It would be laughable if they don’t know. It’s public knowledge at this point from my exam results, so if Greg didn’t even bother to check that then I may be overestimating his ability as an opponent.

She can probably collapse my shield spell, especially with the magic cudgel at her side, but if she doesn’t know it’s there then the surprise recoil should be enough to beat her. At the very least it’d be amusing.

Feeling the time for retreat is gone, I wait for the carriage to drive off and descend to the front door. I sense hesitation on the other side after I knock, then footsteps and the door opens to reveal the muscle woman with Greg behind her staring down at me.

“We’ll you’re certainly punctual,” Greg mutters.

“Should I not have been?” I ask, showing complete obliviousness to the danger I’m walking into.

“No, it’s best to do this quickly.”

“Indeed, I’m looking forward to the game.”

“Quite…You didn’t tell Alan, did you?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. Wouldn’t want him getting in on the fun.”

“Good, good.” He half mutters.

I glance to the woman. “Will she be joining us?”

“Oh, no, she’s just my guard. She’ll be in another room. Come on, the game’s downstairs, the others should already be there.”

He takes me down a dark staircase to a stone basement. A sickly-sweet floral scent permeates the building from the crates lining the walls. It’s familiar, but hard to place. Whatever the plant is I don’t think it’s native to Caethlon or central Arkothia. I’m reminded of a merchant from the east, but I can’t remember their wares.

“What a moody place you’ve brought me to. Is it yours?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s one of mine. I occasionally hold games here when it suits me.”

“Isn’t your house a more traditional location to host at?” I ask, knowing that he chose the locale to conceal any violence that happens, but wanting to see what explanation he comes up with.

He’s quick with an obviously prepared reply. “This place is more convenient for most of the players, and is closer to your place too.” The lie is smoothly delivered, for someone unaugmented at least. For me his face and voice are an explosion of tensions subtly playing itself out.

“No doubt.”

We finish descending and find ourselves in a large room dimly lit by mundane light with four figures sitting at a round wooden table. I recognize three of them as from the group of five with the fourth presumably from those already here. ‘Slim’ I would guess from his tall and slender physique, though that could easily enough be the short squat man to his left given typical naming schemes.

Seeing that everyone is here, the guard goes back up and Greg introduces the four players, each with names as fanciful as ‘Slim’ which I instantly forget, except Slim (who is the tall one as initially thought). Greg also gives occupations, which I know are lies. He claims they’re crafters who do business with him, but their hands tell the truth. None of them have the callouses of holding tools all day every day, and even if I didn’t already know I would guess them to be career criminals from their rough demeanour.

“Well,” I say smugly, taking the seat opposite to Greg, “what are we waiting for? Let’s get playing.” I can tell from their shift in expressions that any compunction against swindling a ‘kid’ is gone.