Xin was tearing papers when Abine found him in Bu’s office. Xin opened the letters, gauged them, and if necessary ripped them to tatters for a small fire he’d started. The hearth pumped smoke through the abbey and out. The heat worked in concert with the late afternoon to convert the office into a large oven. Xin had already opened the windows, but still found himself wiping his brow every few minutes so as not to stain the letters and documents.

If they turned out to be worth keeping.

“Explain to me why Piper thinks she’s going on assignment,” Abine said.

“‘Hello Xin. Need a hand? How’s your week been?’”

Abine took the stack of papers in Xin’s hand and effortlessly ripped them to shreds. Her fury was evident and the scraps went everywhere. The young man sighed. She was an impossible collaborator once in one of her moods.

“I’ll tell you how my week’s been,” Abine said. “First, I lose two students to some random alumnus who just happens to show up here. Then I find out he’s basically more of a son to Bu than you are. And now, this guild is not just accepting a job, but actively pursuing clients.

“I don’t care how you are. What happened to the plan?”

Xin went about dutifully gathering the pieces of paper. The evidence. It always seemed to fall to him, the little picking up of things that others couldn’t see. The trash, the food scraps, the waste. Was it that nobody else noticed or that they just knew he would do the work for them? Sometimes he wondered if it was his cleaning that invited the messes. And yet he couldn’t help himself.

“He gave no notice that he was coming. No letter. He just. Appeared. Not that it helped you any when you lost a fight to him.”

“And I was supposed to know he was an archwarden?” Abine growled when she was angry. Xin found it terrifying when they first started really talking to each other. Really talking to each other about things that mattered in the guild. He thought the habit was pitiful now.

“You were ‘supposed’ to follow the plan.”

“This new guy is not allowing for that.”

“I agree,” Xin said.

“So?”

Abine’s frame blocked the entire doorway. She towered over most people. Xin could’ve torn her shadow off the wall and worn it like a blanket. The fire from the other end of the room made it seem longer. He shrugged.

“What?” he asked.

“You don’t have a new plan.” Abine walked away from the office. She made sure, again, her students had left the abbey. She made sure, again, that nobody was walking towards the abbey. She made sure, again, with spellcraft enchanting her ears, that nobody was listening in on their conversation. Abine hated doing these things inside the guild, but Xin had been evading her. “Then here is my new plan. We find out why he got fired from the SDO. Right? No injuries, no big story in the news. Orators would have picked up the story if a warden in his rank was expelled. There is a secret and secrets have power.”

“And then what?”

Abine stomped her foot, taking care not to be too loud. The mixed efforts made for a strange gesture, like she was miming the act of someone being outlandishly furious. Yet she really was.

“And then?! And then… we blackmail Cyril. Into leaving the guild or something.”

“That just sounds like you getting revenge against the guy who beat you up.”

Abine moved fast and quiet. In a breath, Xin’s head was pinned to the wall of the office. This was more annoying than the growling, he decided. Her senses restrained her from actually injuring Xin. From drawing blood or leaving a bruise. But, she felt the pressing need to remind the young man of where exactly he belonged on the food chain. Xin had been bullied many times before. Abine was not an impressive specimen to him.

“I have a job to do,” Abine said. “You can help or you can be someone who knows too much. Decide.”

“I’ve wanted what you want since before you showed up,” Xin reminded her. “By year’s end, Gwyllion Abbey will be gone. If we both do our parts.”

Abine released him. “Words are words. Find out what I want to know.”

Xin watched her leave into the dimming glow of the sky. Her shadow stretched longer and longer. He returned to his work. Much to clean.

----------------------------------------

“I assumed you were all rich kids!” Cyril yelled.

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“I am the only rich kid. These two just have rich parents,” Piper explained. At least she was smiling again.

Cyril ran down the hill. He wasn’t sweating, but put on a good show of being tired for their amusement. Wakahn seemed to be enjoying himself too. Soraya braided Piper’s hair instead of watching. But, for her this was more fun, so it was the second time Cyril had seen the three of them smiling at the same time. The first was only after they escaped from those monsters at the quarry. He didn’t mind seeing it a second time.

In the middle of the meal, Soraya blamed Cyril for “ruining the atmosphere” by making Piper think about her dead parents. Despite his sound arguments, it was decided that Piper should get to exact some punishment for Cyril’s insensitivity. Piper protested Soraya’s efforts until the latter brought up the idea of that prize. Piper thought it would only be fair if Cyril spent the afternoon doing the same exercises he’d made them run. Cyril eventually agreed. Wakahn mostly stayed out of the entire conversation and ate his meal faster than Piper.

“What did your parents do?” Soraya asked.

“My dad used to be a captain of this fancy ship. But, when my mom had me he pooled together his money to buy a bunch of ships with some of his old sailor friends. That company did really well, I guess. I inherited my dad’s piece of it so one of his old friends gives me some money every month.”

“Without a family name, they could have denied your claim. Your father has some honest friends,” Cyril said. He stopped running.

Piper assumed this unfocused expression before saying, “He didn’t have time to arrange for one before he died. I guess he wasn’t sure if there’d be anything worth leaving me.”

There was silence between the four of them again. Cyril really needed to refrain from personal questions. These kids were there to learn sorcery, not have their feelings wrung out in public. He was wasting their time taking them to meals. Cassidy was working jobs on her own before she was Piper’s age. Because Bu was merciless.

“We’re going back to the guild,” Cyril said. “And we’re running.”

The groans from Soraya and Piper were interrupted.

“Going so soon?” a man asked. Cyril didn’t recognize him but for a moment. He smiled and it came back to him. The warden from the night tables. He had climbed to the foot of the hill with two others trailing him. Also possessed. Three wardens from Migtrolio Marine, the most powerful guild in Lyrique.

“That’s right,” Cyril said. “The hill’s all yours.”

“I thought we could share it,” the man said. He was wearing different robes of the same quality. Obviously expensive robes woven in the color of wine. Cyril hadn’t seen it last night, but the man wore a sword on his hip. The stranger smiled easily. “You have obviously come to visit our guild. I thought it would be rude if we did not introduce ourselves.”

The warden had a slender face with narrow features. His hairline was pulled back on his forehead and his limbs were long. A few lines aged his clean-shaven face. One of his fingers sported a silver ring. The man moved with an unnatural grace, like he’d practiced his movements before making them. His posture was perfect.

“I am warden Hebiha. From Migtrolio Marine. These are my colleagues. I wondered perhaps if your students were interested in a friendly bout? You must forgive my boldness in making such a request, but your own training has reminded me of my negligence in instructing our younger members.”

Cyril put on a smile. Hebiha had referred to the young teenagers as students. The strange man had some knowledge of who they were. Or maybe he had just made an accurate assumption. His experience in diplomacy was limited, but this meeting reminded him of those few and far between chances. In the SDO, he was considered a representative of all wardens. Now he only needed to be a representative of Gwyllion Abbey.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Cyril said. “They’re pretty green.”

Hebiha only nodded politely. Cyril wondered if the man’s smile was a permanent facial feature. It disguised the man’s true reactions. Cyril’s own pupils did not try to do the same.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Piper quickly said. Cyril saw that she had locked eyes with one of the wardens standing by Hebiha. Cyril recognized her as the girl from the boat. “It’s all for practice, right?”

“It won’t be an official exhibition, if that soothes your mind any,” Hebiha said. “No record of anyone’s losses.”

That was a real concession. Competition between guild wardens was rarely, if ever, just for sport or healthy practice. Wardens meticulously tracked their victories against other guilds in order to compete for jobs and clients. Thus, guild bosses rarely allowed for such competitions for fear of losing business. One bad warden could mean the whole guild loses reputation.

Maintaining the abbey’s record wasn’t front of mind for Cyril. If his initiates got injured before their job then it would remove any chance of Bu getting them real work. The old man would permanently resign Cyril to babysitting duty.

“They can all fight me at once if that makes it easier,” the girl from the boat offered. Two concessions. Rejecting the proposal now would severely undercut the pride of his initiates. Was that something worth protecting? “I’ll go easy on them too, if that helps.”

Soraya wouldn’t be contained. “Come on, Cyril!”

Hebiha laughed. “I wonder if we had such energy when we were young once.” Cyril realized the comment was made at him. Why was it only ever the old men that reminded him he was getting old?

Cyril surrendered.“We’ll have to stop if anyone gets hurt, but we’d be happy to accept your offer.”

Soraya pumped her fist in celebration. Cyril realized it would be the first time she’d fight in front of him. She had been so disappointed to be left out of the action at the quarry. Perhaps it would be a good lesson not to be excited about fights.

Hebiha and his other colleague stepped towards the base of the hill to give the four some more room to fight. Cyril didn’t quite join them, but stepped down as well.

Piper, Soraya and Wakahn stood shoulder to shoulder in front of a full-fledged warden. The negotiations for the spar had wounded their egos as well. Was it all just a strategy to get a rise out of them? These Migtrolio wardens were crafty. Cyril wanted to study the fight, but kept an eye on the pair accompanying him as spectators. So much about them was kept under the surface. He couldn’t afford to drop his vigilance for a moment.

“You don’t have to be so on edge,” Hebiha said to Cyril. He dropped his smile to add, “This is only a test.”