"Uses?" Fritz asked.

The Nightshark turned and walked towards her high-backed couch that served as a throne.

"What can you do? For me," she reiterated.

Fritz focused his gaze on the small of her back and while she strode away, sultry and confident. He felt a twang in the air, like an invisible thread had been plucked. The black sharks in the pool floated gently to the surface and presented their shining backs to the open air.

The Nightshark walked over the bridge of black backs without worry, then sat on the clam-styled couch, setting herself in the centre as if she were a pearl.

All were quiet, Sid and the other Browncoat simply stood by just as they had been, Sid's face was blank while the man hid a smirk.

"Well?" The Nightshark asked.

Fritz took a second to think and Jagged Nic pushed his back, nearly tipping him into the water to join the sharks and their terrible, serrated teeth.

He wanted to glare at the thug, but the Nightshark was watching and waiting for a response.

"Well, we're Golden Climbers," Fritz said. "We can Climb and we're strong."

"And tough," Bert said.

"That makes you dangerous, not useful," she noted harshly.

"I'm a decent thief," Fritz said. "And have only become more capable with the addition of my powers. If you need something I can get it for you."

She nodded, then turned her eyes to Bert, softening somewhat.

"I can punch things mighty good," Bert stated. "And can take a beating. Or a cut or two," he added, taking his hand away from his neck and showing four long cuts that had finally stopped bleeding.

Just one of those wounds would have killed a man, left them lying face down in a pool of their own blood. Just how potent was the man's recovery? Fritz wondered. Even the Nightshark looked impressed.

"You'll make a fine enforcer then. If you can bear to be parted from your brother," the Nightshark said.

"We're joined by blood, not at the hip," Bert said seriously.

"Hmm," she hummed, thinking, setting down the clay jar beside her and resting one hand over its lid.

"Do you have any particular needs? Perhaps we could fulfil those?" Fritz asked.

Her eyes twinkled.

"You're both quite handsome, charming even," she stated. "You would do well in my harem. Don't you agree, Sid?"

Sid looked away, not answering. Fritz hid a flinch while Bert grinned.

The Nightshark chuckled, then said, "No, that would be a waste of your true talents. Few Golden Climb the Sunken Spire, and even fewer wish to continue afterwards. Many seek to sit idle on their newfound Power, unlike you two. Straight into the Mer Spire, I hear."

"That's correct."

"There was a golden pulse a couple of days ago, that was you?"

"Yes, we were rather successful. Far more successful than I expected," Fritz said, attempting humility.

"Quite. And your team. Did you tell them of the Sunken Spire?" She asked, her piercing gaze staring right through him.

"No, I said we had climbed the Mer Spire before, pretended at a Silver Climb," Fritz explained, giving an oft rehearsed story.

"And they believed you?" She asked.

"What can I say? I'm persuasive," Fritz said.

"I'm starting to see that, Lord Hightide," The Nightshark observed. "It does not please me. It rather makes me want to tear you and your cunning tongue to pieces."

I wasn't the threat that gave Fritz pause. No, rather it was the casual use of his title.

Still, he continued, retreating into flattery. "I am gladdened by your restraint, though more in awe of your intelligence. And beauty."

She smiled, she knew his game, but seemingly didn't mind the compliments, especially seeing as they were entirely true.

"Two Golden Climbs. And one without apparent casualties," she mused, tapping one pointed nail on her bottom lip. "Once could be a fluke, but twice shows competence. And that would only be the case if you were prepared as the nobility normally are. You three Golden Climbing the Sunken Spire reveals something else. Something akin to genius."

"More a will to survive," Fritz argued, not sure how he felt being proclaimed a genius.

"Will isn't enough," the Nightshark stated. "Quality, that is to say, innate ability, matters. However I, unlike the king, know that there are potential gems drowning in the gutters. You just have to sieve the muck to find them. And there is that ancient saying: enough pressure can turn a lump of coal into a clear diamond."

Fritz stifled a scowl and held back his, somewhat-obvious, retort: that people weren't coal.

"That's what the Sunken Spire is for?" Fritz guessed.

"Among other things," the Nightshark agreed. "It also provides some unusual materials and Treasures not commonly available in this part of the world. But we have digressed. You're a Scout?"

"A Scout Captain," Fritz said.

"Ah, youth. Bold, but ultimately foolish," she replied offhandedly. "How are your senses?"

"I have Awareness, with high Perception as well as the Abilities: Danger Sense and Trap Sense," Fritz said, hoping he wouldn't have to reveal his last, most important Sense.

She tapped her finger on her lip thoughtfully.

"Adequate, though not exceptional," she stated.

The Nightshark stared at them, though mostly at Fritz. Over one tense minute, cold calculation crept into cruel indifference.

"No, you're too dangerous," she finally said.

With a languorous flick of her hand, she motioned a command to her browncoats. "Kill the lordling. I'll keep the other one."

"No!" Both Bert and Sid cried.

They were too slow to act. Fritz could already feel the fist rushing toward the back of his head, the terrible force of the impact, the shattering of his skull and the snapping of his spine. Even with his Danger Sense's agonising warning and his quick reaction, he was too slow to dodge. The world went cold as Nic's steely fist sped right through his body, dispersing the wispy shadow he had become.

Another punch, then another, quick as bolts of lighting, slid through him without harm. Nic executed another such combination of punches, succeeding only in rustling the wind.

Fritz wove his Lethargy curse into the man while he slid from his reach, unsheathing quicksilver and crying out, "Wait! I have Door Sense!"

His yell came out in a whispery wail, yet it still had the intended effect. The Nightshark signalled a stop. Nic pulled back a punch that spat strange cracking energy like his arm was splitting fissures into the air around it. The man cursed, growled, then shook out the magic that wracked his dark iron hand.

Now that Fritz had a moment to look, he saw that it wasn't the only part of the man that seemed to be made of dark iron. His clothing had remained the same, but Nic's whole body looked sculpted, badly, of some black metal, and gleamed dully in the bright white light.

Bert rubbed at his chest and stood up from the cold stone, obviously having been struck and knocked down when Fritz wasn't looking. He glared at Nic, who paid him no mind.

Sid had taken one step forward, but had been swiftly stopped in her tracks by a pair of daggers. The other Browncoat had acted and was now standing behind her, one black, stone dagger poised at her neck and another identical one angled to easily slip under her ribs and into her heart.

No one moved, they waited for The Nightshark.

"Some sort of reactive phasing or shadow transformation. An interesting Ability. Though not as interesting as what you just said. Door Sense? Truly?" The Nightshark asked, leaning forward slightly.

Fritz hesitated, now that the squid was out of the bag there wasn't any reason to be so cautious. Yet, that avaricious, nearly lustful, gleam in her eyes was one he knew well. It was the same look any predator wore when they had found and trapped their prey.

"Truly," Fritz admitted.

"How many doors are there into this room?" She probed.

Fritz pulsed his Awareness, letting Door Sense ride on the wave. He detected more doors than he expected to. The most intriguing was a trap door, covered with the same smooth stone as the floor, right under the couch The Nightshark sat upon.

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He silently chided himself for not checking for escape routes or hidden bolt holes like the ones he could now feel. It was necessary to be aware of all the ways out. Now that he had gained a little power he found he had been neglecting his hard-learned thief's habits, the ones that had kept him alive.

"If you can't tell me that much-" The Nightshark began, interrupting his internal reprimanding.

"Six," Fritz declared.

"Where?" She asked, her interest piqued.

"One behind us, one across from where we stand. One to the left there behind that curtain, two under the water, likely connecting to the various flooded tunnels below. And one more just-"

"That's enough," she said, cutting him off before he could reveal the last and likely secret trap door.

She stared at him, searching him for any hint of deception. When she found none an orb of dark crystal appeared in her hand as if it were summoned from a Personal Pack. It was about the size of a human head, if a little smaller, and its depths were dyed a flat, inky darkness. She held it out as if she wanted him to take it.

When he didn't dare move, she ordered him forward. Fritz glanced at Sid, still held at dagger point.

With her brow creasing in annoyance, she signalled to her Browncoat to withdraw. He slid his daggers back into their sheaths reluctantly, his movements humming with the hesitancy of a recent, if tightly held, grudge.

The Nightshark motioned Fritz forward with one finger, and after returning Quicksilver to its scabbard he obeyed. He reached the edge of the pool and stopped, staring at the water warily.

"Can't swim?" Nic chuckled.

"Not well," Fritz provided. "I'm heavier than I should be."

"Ah. You got black-iron laced bones too?" Nic asked. "Lucky."

Fritz said nothing as the sharks again swam up from the deep and made a bridge for him. He almost recoiled, but stopped himself before he could take a step away. His stomach roiled with dread, as the cold, black eyes of the beasts stared up at him.

"Go on," The Nightshark said, chuckling. "They don't bite."

Fritz looked at her askance.

"Unless you displease me further," she added with a coy smile.

He hid his fear, smoothed his features and set his boot to the back of the first shark. Its flesh was surprisingly hard and its skin as coarse as sand. He let his weight fall on the beast and found it unyielding. Quickly, he strode across its back, using all the Grace he could muster so he didn't slip. The sensation was akin to crossing a beach and soon, after hopping from one shark to the other he was standing across from the Nightshark and the outstretched orb.

He had an idea of what the object was, some kind of Sanctum reading Treasure. He was almost certain, still, he asked, "What is it?"

"Sanctum-Seer Orb," she answered.

"How do I-"

"Take it, activate it, hand it back," She said simply.

"Don't those project your Spire sheet for all to see," he asked nervously, glancing to the Browncoat.

"They can, though we won't be doing so," she said. "Now stop stalling and do it."

Fritz took the orb, he felt wretched, like he was being asked to strip naked before the whole room. Still, he held the dark sphere and Activated it. Immediately a spot in his chest burned coldly, then that cool heat spat into furious, hot, fire. A flicker of green-blue light sparked in the centre of the crystal orb and the blackness within boiled.

Fritz let out a cry as his left palm was burned, and his right glove was singed. He dropped the orb and it landed with a deep clunk.

"What are you doing?" The Nightshark hissed as she stood and moved to scoop up the slowly rolling sphere.

"It burned me," Fritz protested.

"It's just a minor pain, are you truly that soft?" She chided until she had the orb in her hands.

"Why is it hot? What did you do?" She accused.

"Nothing, I did only what you commanded," he argued.

"I didn't command you to drop my precious Treasure," she snarled.

Fritz was about to argue further when he saw Sid shake her head slightly in warning. He held his tongue, but he wasn't the only one to see the gesture.

For whatever reason, this infuriated the Nightshark. She swiftly strode two steps to where Fritz stood and raked one nail down his face. Again, he was too slow to act, it seemed all the Awareness, Grace and Perception weren't enough to contest The Nightshark's own Attributes.

It would have cut him deeply, left a long, thin scar right down his left cheek, he was sure. His Danger Sense predicted as much. He was saved, again, by his Umbral Phase, though this time he didn't reach for his blade.

It was fortunate that he didn't, it would have made things even worse. The Nightshark glared at him, obviously indignant of the fact he'd foiled her punishment.

She smiled coldly, but there wasn't any amusement in those terrible eyes.

"Sid, come here. Since the Lord Hightide is too cowardly to face discipline, you will bear it for him."

Sid nodded stoically and stepped forward, pulling her hood from her face, revealing what she had been hiding on her left cheek. Two long, precise cuts, equidistant twins, red and running from just below her eye down to her jawline. They had been stitched by a practised hand, and he could smell the bitter tang of healing grease. Still, they were ugly and swollen.

Fritz's body returned to solidity as he struggled with what he saw and the righteous rage that roared within his chest.

The Nightshark raised her hand, and watching Fritz's expression, prepared to slice another long line into Sid's cheek.

"No!" Fritz demanded. "I will face the discipline."

"What?" The Nightshark taunted. "Is that any way to request something of me, Lord Hightide."

"Please, dole out my deserve-ed punishment," Fritz pleaded.

"Better, but not enough, boy," she stated.

"Please! Cut me instead," Fritz begged.

It was too late. A swift slash and a grunt of pain, blood trickled to the floor and a shark snapped its jaws.

Sid bore it without speaking, without even a tear forming on those irises of bright blue. Fritz looked on, feeling as helpless as a minnow. Their eyes met and his worry and guilt were met with thunder and a brewing storm. It was a stare that said: "Do not pity me."

With an effort, he turned, instead, to the Nightshark, who was delighted by whatever face he was making. Fury threatened to burst free, but he held it close, condensing it into a small searing ember. He couldn't fight her, not here, not now. But he would find a way, a way to end her reign and take her life. In that moment, he swore it, his Dusksong sang and his flame burned bright.

"My, what a mutinous look you have," she mocked. "Does Sid need another to add to 'his' collection?"

Fritz didn't rush to answer.

"If it is your will, then, yes," he said, affecting the look of a beaten hound. "Though three cuts are auspicious, and four might bring bad luck."

"You're right on all counts," she allowed, nearly purring and replacing herself on the couch.

Absently she licked a spot of blood off her nail, then peered into the orb she held on her lap. Within that blackness, there were now hovering glyphs that took on the shape of his Spire Sheet readout.

His gut lurched as his powers were being laid bare. Though Fritz was getting used to that. This meeting had been terror after terror. Pain after pain. He preferred the Spires. He even preferred the Raider.

"Francis Hightide, level twenty," she read, musingly. "Base Attributes are what I'd expect, if a tad lopsided. Advanced are a little more interesting. Awareness, as you said, Control, Grace and, you lucky boy, Nightwell."

Fritz's brow twitched and he fought to keep his face straight. Her gaze flicked to him, then her deep red eyes narrowed.

"Do you have to reveal all my powers to those here?" He asked softly.

Fritz shuffled in place, rolling his shoulders, trying to play up both his paranoia and shame rather than let her suspect his shock at the mention of 'Nightwell'. An Attribute he definitely did not have.

She ignored his protest, staring back at the orb.

"Boring, boring, oh, that's interesting," she said, not elaborating on what she saw. "Two senses, and that phase. Ah, here it is. Your very first Trait, Door Sense. Very good."

The Nightshark smiled.

"Cloak of shadows. You have something similar don't you, Craig?"

"I do," the dagger-wielding Browncoat admitted without hesitation.

"Ah! And this last one. You foolish boy. This is why you were burned," she stated pointing at one last, warped glyph. "Eldritch Flame."

She shook her head.

"Madness, taking in an Eldritch Flame. More insane though is that you survived it," The Nightshark expounded with some incredulity, some respect in her resonant tone.

"It can't be that uncommon, the Sunken Spire's peak is alight with it," Fritz said.

"You're wrong," she said simply. "Too wrong, boy."

Fritz burned with curiosity so keen he almost forgot his fear, yet he held back.

"You, and your Powers in turn, are absurd," she said meeting his eyes, weighing him and his worth. "What am I to do with you?"

"Before you give the order to murder me, again," Fritz said. "You should see this."

He held out the bracelet of pink beads Tallie had given him.

The Nightshark frowned.

"Another absurdity," she said, sucking a small breath through her teeth. "You got That Woman to agree to shield you? She's overstepping. I let her have her little fiefdom and all her whores-to-be. And she thinks she can dictate rules to me. In my city!?"

The Nightshark seethed and her Browncoats stilled entirely.

"I should tear her to pieces," she said coldly before calming herself. While her rage was fierce it seemed she had a tight grip on it.

"Bert, you can start in the fighting rings, harden those fists of yours and make your name known in the right circles. Then you'll tail Nic, he needs a new second," she ordered.

Bert nodded reluctantly, though Fritz could see he was eager to fight in the underground rings.

"Lord Hightide. You will report to Craig, he'll put you through all the training you'll need to carry out my commands."

Fritz nodded, it was a better choice than being murdered. He did wonder, though, what she truly had in store for him.

"I also hear you are attempting to reestablish your House, re-enter high society and return to court as head of your family," she stated. "It would be prudent that you did so, you can be useful in supporting my aims. I can make that easier for you. And those three signatures you need will be a triviality to acquire."

Fritz considered the offer, but knew it came with too many chains. Any help he received would have to be repaid threefold, maybe more.

"I thank you for your generous offer," Fritz said politely. "Unfortunately, I have to decline, it Hightide is to rise again it must be on its own merits."

"On its own merits?" She scoffed. "How does that help me?"

"I can serve you better when there are no apparent connections," he replied smoothly. "I will be under scrutiny for sure, so it is best to have as little contact as can be."

'Foolish, they will know you have such connections from your bond with Bert," she countered easily.

"The less certain ties the better. It would seem as though I'm straddling the line between the gutters and the nobility. An intermediary, not a direct avenue of your interests, but someone who has a way to reach you, due to my friendships and my time on the streets."

The Nightshark considered his words and allowed them.

"A grey noble?" She asked.

"Standing ever tall.

His colour's grey, his flag the way,

and all will hear his call," Sid whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing, a verse from a Jastili song I overhead," Sid stated. "It just popped into my head."

"I wouldn't repeat it on land," The Nightshark warned. "In fact, you should pop it out of your head."

Sid shrugged. "Couldn't make out most of it anyway."

The Nightshark returned her gaze to Fritz, then she came to some conclusion.

"Very well, do as you will. No climbing until I give you leave, and Craig will find you in the coming days for your assessment and training. Bert, your fights start tonight."

Bert grinned and Fritz smiled as much as he could manage.

"Not going to test me with the orb?" Bert asked.

"No," The Nightshark said.

"Why not?"

"It still needs to refresh and I'm not sure it's worth the cost," she stated blandly.

With a slight gesture, a thin stick appeared in The Nightshark's hand. It was about a foot long, glossy black with gilded rings down its length. At one end was shaped into a golden point, like a spearhead with its tip stained black.

"Take off your shirt, and approach," she ordered, waving Fritz forward.

"I'm not interested in joining your harem," Fritz said glibly, though he did as she said.

She ignored his comment. "Kneel."

He kneeled, stifling his scowl.

"What is that?" Fritz asked fearfully, not all of it being an act.

"A Treasure that ensures silence."

"What does it do?"

"If you speak to anyone about me, or the Spire, you will die," she explained succinctly as she ran a finger over his collarbone. "Writing counts too," she added.

"Could you be more specific?"

"No," she said, stabbing Fritz gently with the Treasure, just above his heart.

It was a mere prick of pain, hardly worth the dread, until cold, like liquid ice, spilled under his skin and he gasped involuntarily. He could feel its magic, it was akin to his Lethargy curse, if darker, deadlier, a blade pointed at his soul.

Then the Treasure's needle was removed, leaving the freezing feeling and a black fang tattooed upon his flesh. She ran a finger over it and smiled when it didn't smudge. Her eyes glinted as they roamed his bared chest.

"Is that all? Your grace," He asked, seizing upon a small chance.

The Nightshark tilted her head in a nod.

"You next," she said gesturing at Bert. He crossed the shark bridge less gracefully than Fritz but far less fearfully.

Fritz stood and stepped back, hiding his rapidly roiling emotions. There was too much rushing through him to handle so he pushed it all down and watched his brother receive his own mark.

"You know, I never said no to the harem," Bert said with a sly grin.

She smiled down at him, running her hand over his skin in a sensuous circle. With a cruel delight, she pierced him with the Treasure, digging it in more harshly than she had with Fritz.

The rough treatment only caused Bert to grin wider.

"I'll think about it," she whispered, but in the silence, it carried to everyone watching.

"Stand," she said after pulling out the Treasure and checking the black fang with a wipe of the thumb.

Then the stick was gone, sucked away along with the Sanctum-Seer Orb. All that was left was the jar with the lightning eel egg. She took it up with what was approaching a warm smile.

They waited on her dismissal.

"Go," She said, waving them away. "Oh, and thank you for the gift. I'm sure this beast will be a true terror in due time."

They obeyed, though the thought that they had just handed the Nightshark such a potent weapon shook Fritz. He honestly hadn't considered the implications and had been thinking of only his own skin. He pushed it down with all the other tempestuous emotions. He rubbed at the black fang, and the ice left beneath his skin.

Bert and Fritz followed Nic as he led them away.

Fritz turned back only once, catching Sid's stoic, sorrowful gaze. She stared and he looked away unable to continue the aching eye contact. He felt like a skulg, he hadn't meant for her to suffer for his failure.

He had survived, again. But at the cost of his freedom, his pride and his dignity. He should have considered the meeting a success as both he and Bert lived, and had a chance to prove their worth to The Nightshark. Yet it all felt so bleak, so bitter.

Under her they could become powerful. Though not too powerful, never strong enough to usurp her.

He sighed, pushing those thoughts away for later.

Much later.