The book in Marast’s pocket felt heavier than it should’ve as he sat through another pointless meeting at the Council. Things will be different when I rule, Marast thought, picking at the hem of his red robes. He locked eyes with an equally bored Raina at the other end of the table.

The table, like the rest of the room, was glorious. It was fit for people of their stature, the leaders of the Citadel, and all magicals around the globe. The table was pure and blinding white, a passable replication of Dominion Wood’s color. The room itself was also white, with white walls, floors, and ceiling. They were all painted the same blinding white, which was why meetings were mostly held at night rather than during the day for almost as long as the Council had held meetings here. There was also a tasteful trim of gold that ran along the table’s edge and the walls, all of which was polished to a blinding sheen.

There was also one marble statue in each corner of the room, all depicting some form of advancement of humanity. There was a statue man on horseback, one of a man holding a staff, one holding a bow, and a man holding a club. They all signified how man had tamed the world, and all were priceless works of art that few—if any—had equalled.

Suitable, Marek thought approvingly as he looked back at his fellow members of the council. Suitable for Archmages of the Citadel.

The moment he had turned his attention back to the council, he wished he hadn’t. Raina and Marast were two of five members on the Council, and the only two that had any inkling of what was going on outside Velaire’s walls. They were so consumed with pointless bickering over petty issues that they had let the world pass them by, as many had over the past century.

“Marast?”

Marast refocused on the conversation, going through what had been discussed over the last few minutes he had been thinking.

“I agree with Kaolin,” Marast said, nodding to the man directly opposite him. Kaolin was short but hardy, with broad shoulders and pale skin. He was among the oldest on the council. His salt and pepper hair and remarkably unlined face hid that fact until he whined it at every Council meeting. “I think we should investigate the… other Council.”

“Good,” Jacquin said snidely from down the table. Like Raina, she was tall, but her looks differed in her brown hair and hawkish face that was perfectly suited for sneering. She only got away with it because of her power, and nothing more, as even on the Council—which was supposed to be neutral—she was very much disliked. “I am glad that you agree, given your… tendencies.”

“You mean how I would rather understand and try to fix problems than ignoring them? Yes, I recognize that my “tendencies” are beyond one such as yourself,” Marast shot back. He regretted the words almost as soon as he said them. They were a major faux pas in the so-called polite society, but Jacquin had been acting like an idiot toward him since the moment he had said no to a pass she had made years ago. He liked his women less powerful, and with something approaching a brain. Jacquin was both stupid and powerful, which in Marast’s eyes wasn’t a winning combination.

“Now, Marast,” Raina said sternly. He noticed her eyes were almost glowing from repressed laughter. “You should know better than that. Please apologize.”

“I apologize most sincerely,” Marast said smoothly, bowing his head to the irritating woman. “I have been stressed as of late, and I am not entirely myself. Please forgive my lapse in judgment.”

“Apology accepted,” Jacquin said stiffly. She nodded to the head of the table, where Matthias—the unofficial leader of the Council—sat silently watching them.

If there was anyone else that Marast was wary of, it would be Matthias. His expression was always unreadable, and when he spoke, everyone listened. He was clever and powerful but was content to watch people scheme and counterscheme rather than do anything himself. The only reason why he was the unofficial leader of the Council was due to his disdain of politics. Marast found it both irritating—he was used to knowing how to manipulate people—and honourable. Not that his honour will matter in the long run.

“Tell me, Marast,” Matthias said, running a hand through his thick beard. Like most here, his hair was grey, but recently the first tinges of white had begun to show. He was of average height and build, but he loomed largely and always cast a long shadow wherever he went. “What would you do with the… other Council, as you put it?”

Marast grinned internally. Time to ruffle a few feathers. “I would work with them,” Marast said. This raised more than a few eyebrows around the table, and Martin leaned forward, looking intensely interested. “Unless we systematically purge the other Council from the city and all the other undesirable elements attached to them, they will always be in Velaire. They spring up like weeds. Every weed we rip out, three appear in its place the moment our backs are turned.”

“Interesting,” Matthias said, still stroking his beard. “You would have us work with the Thieves Council… for what, exactly?”

“Whatever we need them for,” Marast said. “Obviously, we wouldn’t ask them for anything too criminal, but what if we needed to find someone or something at short notice? The Watch is hopelessly corrupt, King Darius would never volunteer any of his men, and our own Citadel Guard is far too recognizable, even if they were to wear plain clothes. They would stick out like a sore thumb, so we need to adapt. They reached out to us for a reason. Let’s discover why rather than rejecting them out of hand.”

“I agree,” Raina said. The entire table turned to her, and she smiled genially. “I understand any concern, but if we want to ensure that we conduct our business in Velaire unmolested, we cannot pretend that the unsavory elements of Velaire don’t exist.”

After that, the rest of the table agreed, and the meeting quickly went back to being dreadfully dull. When it was mercifully concluded, Marast stood, nodded to everyone politely, and walked quickly out of the Meeting Chamber. He proceeded slowly down the hall as if he were going somewhere in particular.

Raina met up with him quickly. “Do you have it?” she asked without preamble.

“It’s good to see you as well,” Marast said sarcastically. “How did your day go?”

“If I wanted your sarcasm, I would pretend to be Jacquin,” Raina said, making Marast laugh at the image.

“Please don’t,” he said. He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out the book. It was brown and old, with yellowed pages and a faded cover. He handed it over to Raina, who took it with reverence. “Here.”

“I can’t believe you found it,” Raina breathed. She looked at him and smiled wide, which suited her much better than the dour look she usually sported. “With this, we will be able to do what is necessary in the months to come.”

“I agree,” Marast said. He wanted to roar with laughter at her naivete, but instead, he smiled in return. “I found it at a street auctioneer who didn’t know what he had. I managed to buy it at an incredibly low price, considering its worth.”

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“It’s worth an empire’s ransom,” Raina said. She made an aborted move to open it. Instead, she stroked it gently like a newborn and put it in her pocket. “It is hard to believe you found the book we have been looking for just walking around the city, Marast.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Marast said, still maintaining his smile. It took a great deal more effort than it should’ve. Always questioning, Raina. Why can’t you receive something and be grateful for your good fortune?

“Indeed, they have,” Raina replied. She smiled again as she patted the book in her pocket. “Well, I’m going back to my study. Do not disturb me, Marast. I have a lot of reading to do.”

“Of course,” Marast said smoothly, dipping his head politely. “Enjoy yourself, Raina.”

“I shall,” Raina replied, and then all but sped away at an undignified speed. Marast chuckled at the sight and then pulled out his timepiece.

Nearly six, Marast thought, mentally making the calculations. If he went back to his office, got dressed, and then rode out, he would be able to make his second and more important meeting tonight at eight.

After all, I will require the best of the best for this job. It isn’t every day the Thieves Council is tasked to steal from an Archmage, after all.

Chuckling in the empty hallway, Marast turned around and headed back to his apartment. The Meeting Room was on the eighth floor, and his room was on the tenth. He didn’t have much time.

Raina has less, Marast thought, chuckling again as he walked to the staircase leading to the next floor. Once the thieves were discovered by her in her mansion—where she should undoubtedly take the book—they would be killed by her, which would spark an investigation. With Marast pulling strings behind the scenes, the existence of Dancing with Death would soon be discovered. She would be lucky to escape the noose, let alone able to try and wrestle control of Marast’s plan away from him.

“Going somewhere, Marast?”

Marast turned to see Matthias standing near an open doorway, a grey eyebrow raised inquisitively. Azmar’s Ruin! Marast mentally cursed. He hadn’t detected anyone in the hallway when he had given Raina the book, but if Matthias had any inkling of what he had given her, he was a dead man along with Raina.

“To my apartment,” Marast said, raising an eyebrow in return. “Why, do you need anything, Matthias?”

“I do,” Matthias said, gesturing to the staircase. “After you, Marast.”

Unable to do anything but obey the implied command, Marast walked up the stairs. Not a word was said as he led Matthias to his office on the ninth floor, where he sat down in his chair and gestured to the other unoccupied chair in the office. Nodding, Matthias sat down, looking around Marast’s cluttered office before he nodded with a small smile.

“You have a busy mind,” Matthias said, folding his hands together and placing them in his lap. “Not surprising, considering how much work we all have to do around here.”

“I know where everything is, and that’s enough for me,” Marast said, looking at the other man cautiously. Matthias wasn’t channeling, thank the gods, but he also hadn’t revealed why he had asked to talk to him privately in his office. “Not to be rude—”

“But you’re about to be,” Matthias said, his lips curling upward. “Oh, do relax, Marast. I only wanted to talk to you about your proposal.”

My proposal? Marast racked his mind until he realized that Matthias was talking about the meeting, and he almost cried in relief. “Oh,” Marast said elegantly.

“Yes,” Matthias said. “I understand that you’ve had dealings with the Thieves Council?”

Marast narrowed his eyes at the older man. The accusation—while mildly said—was enough to get him into trouble if anyone other than Raina knew. “No,” he lied. “I haven’t.”

“Come now,” Matthias said, crossing his arms and looking down at him like a Mage would his class of students. “You aren’t in trouble. I wish to understand them more.”

“Understand them more,” Marast echoed. He shook his head, baffled at where this conversation had gone and was potentially going. “Explain yourself, Matthias.”

“Gladly,” Matthias said. He reached into his robes and pulled out a red gem, which made Marast’s eyes widen. It was the exact same color as the one on his desk, an almost perfect match. “I found this,” Matthias said, “through a mutual acquaintance of ours. Imagine how surprised I was, Marast, when he said that I looked different compared to the other mage that usually visited him to buy his wares.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t get yourself stabbed,” Marast said dryly. “People don’t take kindly to magic users wandering around that side of Velaire.”

“Oh, someone tried,” Matthias said cheerfully. He pulled up the robes on his right arm, revealing a nasty scratch that looked recent. “I have received a token of their… esteem.”

“So, you found a Focus that’s similar to the one locked within my personal office,” Marast said accusingly. “And now you want to know more?”

“I know you look down on me for not actively participating in the politics that are rampant within the Citadel, but that doesn’t mean that I’m blind, Marek,” Matthias said with a hint of reproach. “You are strong and intelligent and will most likely be the leader of the Council once I retire, but your biggest failing is that you underestimate people that you shouldn’t, a failing that you should correct.”

“Thank you for the lecture,” Marast bit out, bowing mockingly in his chair. “So, you’re smarter than you look, and you have spies amongst the Citadel’s servants. Any other stunning revelations that you wish to reveal?”

“Your sarcasm is another failing of yours,” Matthias said chidingly, putting the gem back into his robes. “But I’m not here to “lecture” you. Instead, I would like to come with you.”

“Come with me where?” Marast said, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. He had better not even suggest what I think he’s about to suggest. “I don’t have any plans for tonight.”

“Oh, so you are not going to the meeting with the Thieves Council?” Matthias asked, his grey eyes twinkling. “I hope they will be as understanding as I am when it comes to your lies, Marast because you’ll most likely have to come up with a good one if you intend to skip your meeting.”

“Do you want to come with me?” Marast said through gritted teeth. “It was hard enough organizing the meeting for me, as with your “token,” you know very well how much our kind is hated there. A second Archmage might be ill-advised.”

“Well, organizing a meeting with the Thieves Council without Council permission was ill-advised, so I’m afraid you’ll have to do your best,” Matthias said cheerfully. He picked at his red robe and held it up. “I assume you’ll be wearing something else at the meeting?”

“Unless you want both of us to end up dead in a ditch, yes,” Marast said dryly. Marast stood, a move that was echoed by Matthias. “Come, then. If you’re going to make a nuisance of yourself, you should at least live long enough to see why I’ve called this meeting.”

“That I do not know yet,” Matthias said, walking to the door and holding it open. “After you, Marast.”

“Thank you,” Marast said, wanting nothing more than to slap the smug look off Matthias’ face as he walked by him into the hallway. I liked him far better when he was unobtrusive and inexpressive.

“I can positively sense your disdain,” Matthias said. “Calm, Marast. We are two of the best that the Citadel has to offer. We will be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” Marast muttered, allowing himself a moment to fantasize about killing him or hiring someone else to do so. Maybe I could just shout “Mage!” and let the Thieves Guild deal with it.

“Come,” Marast said, walking quickly to the staircase. “I’m already late, thanks to you, Matthias. At least I will have a good excuse.”

“Oh, I daresay you will,” Matthias said.