Lancecain severely underestimated Little Water’s patience.

Hiding underground was a smart tactic. The knights wouldn’t expect it because the conditions of the burrow would drive any person insane. A criminal could only remain in a dark, cramped space for so long before coming up for air.

He originally expected his incarceration in darkness to last for a few days, perhaps a week at most before the estrazi took their chances. The moment they did, the tenacious knights of the north that Lancecain knew would still be sweeping the area would pounce on them, ending his horrible situation.

He didn’t expect the estrazi to be just as tenacious. Or quite so uncomfortable underground. It was hard to keep time in perpetual darkness but he knew more than a few days had passed and the estrazi showed no signs of leaving. He didn’t know what kind of supplies they had but whenever he complained of hunger, crumbles of something hard and tasteless was pushed into his mouth. Water was the same, trickled past his lips upon his demand.

When he needed to use the bathroom or wash, one of his captors dragged him through a short tunnel to another underground room where his needs were seen too. It wasn’t a comfortable experience but everything he needed was provided. Lancecain had to assume that if his needs could be met so easily, they could take care of themselves just as easily. A part of him feared that the estrazi were willing to remain underground forever. And could, should the situation demand it.

The knights of the north could be stubborn bastards but they couldn’t look for him forever. Victory lay in ruins. Thousands of their soldiers had died or been lost in the storms. They had to prepare in case the team sent to investigate the source of the odd storms returned with a target, the equivalent of a second campaign.

There was also the matter of the March. While it was possible that the guilds ended the situation with diplomacy, no one believed the debt would be settled without violence. Attacking Quest would mean antagonizing the king. A civil war could break out and the north was not prepared. Yet, their traditions wouldn’t allow them to retreat.

Too many crises were demanding the duke’s attention. Lancecain considered himself valuable but he was only one man. If he were optimistic, he’d give them two weeks before the knights patrolling the area returned to the fort. If his master was still present to wield his influence, he’d say three. If they hadn’t suffered so many losses, four. But, like he thought when he’d been attacked, it was the worst possible timing.

At the beginning, Lancecain didn’t intend to be cooperative. He spoke with Little Water, as torture was the last thing he needed to add to his circumstances, but he kept his answers as vague as he could. Purposely misleading her when he could. He hoped he could guide her into making a mistake, mainly leaving their hideaway.

However, the longer he remained in the darkness, the harder it got to remember those goals. Little Water’s voice, pleasant despite being laced with slight disdain, was all he had. It woke him up, sent him to sleep, and distracted him when the hours started to drag on. Sometimes, it felt like he was sinking into the Abyss itself when one of her brusque questions raised him up, reminding him that the darkness wouldn’t last.

The more open he was, the more open the female estrazi was in turn, and the longer their conversations lasted. Things he didn’t mean to say slipped out with greater frequency until he couldn’t bring himself to care. He justified it to himself with the knowledge he was learning many things about her people while telling her things she could learns from a few hours of eavesdropping.

“Tell me about the one who has my human,” Little Water asked during one of their conversations.

The identity of Alana and her wives was one of the topics Lancecain had remained vague about but he didn’t see the point anymore. It wasn’t like the walking lizards could pose a threat to the two monsters. He considered the consequences for several moments before begrudgingly asking, “What do you want to know?”

If he could see, he’d have noticed the way the estrazi’s eyes gleamed with the glee of a predator cornering prey. “Everything.”

“That’s a lot. I suppose I should start with her name. Lourianne Tome.”

“Looooouriane Tooome.” She rolled the name in her mouth a few times, saying it different ways. Almost as if she was tasting it. “Tome. A scholarly book. A name that suggests one with knowledge. What does Lourianne mean?”

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“Nothing.” He didn’t understand Little Water’s fascination with names, especially since her own sounded as if it’d been decided by a toddler. All of sisters had similar names. Great Fire. Good Light. Little Mind. She’d asked him for the meaning behind his own name and had been baffled when he said it meant nothing besides his parents liked the way it sounded. Very heroic, according to his father. “It has no meaning I’m aware of.”

She scoffed at his answer. “Humans are silly. A name is meant to describe a being, yet you have names that mean nothing to you.”

“Most don’t choose names with meaning but use their lives to give meaning to their names. The James are a good example. In the time of the first duke, James was the same as any other name. Now, it’s synonymous with Victory. It’s full of the history of those who’ve had it.”

“But not the history of the individual. What is the point of claiming another’s achievements? Without your own, you are nothing, no matter your name.”

“It inspires those who have it to do great things, like their forebearers.”

“Loyalty and ambition should be enough to inspire. No more of this silly topic. This Lourianne Tome. Why does she have my human?”

“If you believe Khan’s father, it’s to investigate what your people did to him and probe his shattered mind for any useful information. I personally believe it was just a convenient excuse to save his life.”

“Why would this Tome need to save my human?” Little Water in a startled voice.

Lancecain had to restrain a chuckle. “Is that a joke? Khan conspired with possible enemies of the north and his mind has been compromised. What other fate could possibly await him besides execution?”

“He told me he would not be held responsible,” she said softly.

“Then he lied to you. Khan knows better than anyone how Victory operates. I can only guess that he didn’t want to worry you.”

Little Water hissed. “He said nothing because I would not have allowed him to return. Great Eye said he would be safe. His manipulations are tiresome…but he wasn’t wrong. My human is safe?”

“As safe as he can be. He’s in the best hands available. Lou is accompanied by the only person that has a hope of unraveling his mind.”

“A being that rivals Great Mind?! Impossible! No member of a lesser race should be capable of such.”

He resented being referred to as a lesser anything by a creature that looked like snake crawled inside a woman and gave birth to a strange cross between the two but Lancecain had learned to keep many of his opinions to himself. “The being in question isn’t human. Not even of this world so I doubt she’s what you’re calling a lesser race. And whether she’s capable of healing Khan’s mind or not is irrelevant. The duke believes she might be able to do it. That gives Khan time, which is the important thing.”

Little Water clicked angrily in what he recognized as the estrazi language before switching back to Common. “It is very important if there is a creature that can rival one of the strongest in the brood holding my human. How loyal is this being to the Tome?”

“Incredibly? At least, she seemed to be. And now it’s my turn to ask questions. How strong is this Great Mind?”

From casual conversation during the dinner before the campaign, he knew that Lou’s succubus was a thrall. Creatures with coefficients under four hundred. Enough to match the strongest tier of knights but not the legends like Dunwayne.

The few mental casters in Victory didn’t have a chance in the Abyss of restoring Khan’s mind. Something didn’t make sense and he would bet the inconsistency lied in Lou’s camp.

“It is hard to quantify power. It is not the amount of mana, the knowledge of the world, or the experience to use it. It is all three. I am Little, a puddle. Big is a pond. Good is a lake. Great is the ocean. Majesty is the sky.”

“That…tells me nothing.”

Little Water huffed. “From our fight, you would be Little Light. The Disgraced would be Greats, but weak ones. This being, if it can undo the work of Great Mind, is closer to a Disgraced than you.”

Lancecain swallowed. If the female estrazi’s estimation was right, Lou was walking around with a creature that could rival a Lord, either in raw power, experience, or technique. A creature that could probably single-handedly level the kingdom. He pictured the cute thrall roasting meat over a campfire and shook his head. It was too incredible to believe.

“An impossible opponent to fight.” Little Water sounded discouraged. Maybe even depressed.

“It may not come to a fight,” Lancecain said slowly. After speaking with Little Water for days, or possibly weeks, he didn’t think war was in Victory’s best interests. If she hadn’t lied, and she’d sounded far too proud to be lying, they had thousands of soldiers that would die on command and a handful of casters that could rival a Lord. Not a fight he wanted to put his countrymen through.

“Lou isn’t as fanatical about things as northerners. If you don’t try to abduct her during your meeting, you may be able to settle things through words. At least have a conversation about it.”

“The powerful do not speak with the weak for no benefit. What does this Tome want?”

Lancecain noted that she had ignored his own desire for answers, bullishly charging forward with her own interests, but he ignored it for the moment. His mind was still processing the implication of her words.

“She struck me as something of a hedonist. Money, power, pleasure, the usuals. Mainly money and pleasure. She has plenty of power. Given her two wives and a succubi, I’d say women are her weakness.”

“Weakness? Why are women able to fell her?”

“No, not that kind of—her vice. You know. What she desires most. It’s women. Beautiful ones, though she has a…more refined palette than most. She’s attracted to all kinds.”

Little Water made a thoughtful noise. “Beautiful women, hm…”