Elishua and the Envoy would be appalled to learn that Tenthé regarded them as his proteges, and in the spirit of that, he felt it only fair to keep testing their mettle. The two of them were currently frozen in the trap, wearing looks of disgust. He was smart enough to set a timer so that he could be far away when they were released.

As shocking as it was, he had no trouble making his way to Tomas’ office all by himself. Saying hello to the secretary, he breezed by. Her objections chased after his receding form, finding no purchase.

Upon entering the inner chamber, he found Tomas behind his desk with the Lord Mayor opposite. The Mayor turned to observe the interloper, then asked Tomas, “So. What have we here? Who is this young man?”

“Ah, this is Tenthé. The Tenthé. I think you’ve met before, but won’t remember.”

“The Tenthé, you say? Isn’t that a bit ominous? It’s rumored the Hands are only called up in most dire times.”

“Yes,” Tomas replied.

“Oh. I see,” the Mayor responded, a little upset by the implications.

The two gentlemen stared as Tenthé made himself comfortable in a third chair after snagging a cookie.

Tomas was the first to speak. “Actually, I haven’t really thought about it. I guess it is true. We are in trouble. What do you think?” This last was directed at Tenthé.

Tenthé chewed for a few moments, then began; sounding very unlike a ten-year-old. “If the Horde showed up today, it would own the City in less than a Sixday without help from Isabell and me. You can’t counter their Mentor, who would open our walls and convert people, which would render the gods impotent. Currently, the House troops are in disarray, with no coordinated training, and the magic suppression the Horde used in the latest skirmish would put the Guardians at a significant disadvantage.

“In any event, the Houses would be mobilized too late and would only concentrate on their own holdings. I think that a few of them are in contact with the Horde, which gives them the false impression that they can wiggle out of what happens after the City is conquered. They might be right. The Horde needs us to rebuild for the next time they come around, but everyone remaining will have to pay a significant price.”

Tomas was taken aback at this bald assessment. Huffily he responded, “If you think our leadership has left us in such terrible shape, why don’t you take over?”

“No. I told myself I wouldn’t ever do that again.”

The Lord Mayor laughed. “Good joke, Tomas!” He faced Tenthé. “Who is this kid? He’s a great actor!”

Tomas and the Lord Mayor froze as the world rushed away and they found themselves above a battlefield. It was obvious the battle was over, but the scene was horrendous. Tenthé and several other beings were walking through the thousands of bodies that stretched as far as the eye could see. Those around Tenthé were not human. Each of them consisted of a collection of body parts floating around some central structures, moving in a parody of a person.

Around them were piles of carrion, the flesh crushed, burned, and ripped apart. Much of it was sullenly burning, with a pall of smoke obscuring everything. The searchers would stop every so often and stab, slice, or use some arcane energy to dispatch moaning and crying creatures. The observers weren’t sure if they were mercy kills or executions.

Even the uneducated could realize this was a pyrrhic victory. Only a small fraction appeared to have survived, and, it was hard to tell, but if the battlefield had once been a city, it was now ruins filled with death.

The Tenthé in the vision manifested a red fireball so intense it wasn’t possible to look at directly. It drifted back and forth; where it touched, body parts disappeared, leaving bites out of the piles of carrion.

The horror continued as the figures spent what felt like hours, wending their way through blood, flesh, and mud, terminating everyone or everything that wasn’t already dead.

Tenthé spoke quietly. “On that plane, medicine doesn’t exist and there is no magic to heal anyone. The best we could do is put the injured out of their misery, both friend and foe. And, it was all my fault. We defeated a much greater army, but in the end, both sides lost. That day, I learned that winning is sometimes worse than losing.”

The office was quiet as the vision receded.

After a time, Tomas interjected, “Ahem, well. Somewhat disconcerting. If this is the truth, then you really are stronger than you let us believe. Just like Elishua said. But, if that’s so, why are you even here? At the College, I mean.”

Tenthé took a moment to answer. “You might remember… it wasn’t my idea. But, once here, I sort of hoped I would learn something. Maybe a way to help the City that wouldn’t end up everything being destroyed.”

Tomas and the Lord Mayor exchanged looks, and the Mayor spoke somewhat defensively, “Well. We haven’t been idle. We’ve contacted several Sages, hoping to enlist their aid in our cause. Most of them, honestly, did not respond, and the few that did demanded an outrageous payment with no guarantees.

“Something you may not know, though, is we received a message yesterday, telling us that one of the Sages was spotted passing through a nearby City, heading this way. We didn’t get his name, but I’m sure it’s a good sign.”

Tomas took up the conversation. “These Sages have spent years, maybe even centuries, studying magic, and there are only rumors about what they have mastered. Our Magisters are in a tizzy to talk to this person and as part of your duties as the Tenth Hand, I would like you to meet him. Hopefully, if you two get along, something positive will come out of the encounter.”

Tenthé wasn’t the best at picking up clues, but even he figured out that Tomas was asking him to be on his best behavior. What was the problem? He was always on his best behavior.

Around him, he could see activity among the Guardians. It looked like a lot of betting was taking place.

Tomas continued, completely oblivious to the byplay. “And another thing. We’ve been trying to get in touch with Isabell. Any plans we have that exclude her input would be short-sighted. Can you let her know?”

Tenthé was a bit surprised. “She’s here. Talking to the Guardians. Can’t you ask them?”

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“What? Why wasn’t I notified? I’m the Head! This is unacceptable.” Tomas exploded.

The Lord Mayor broke in. “Now, Tomas, settle down. The little general and his officers probably want to carry out some preliminary investigations, find out if she is stable, and such. Don’t micromanage. They’ll inform you when the time is right. Let your staff do their job.”

“Yeah,” added Tenthé. “The meeting seemed kind of out of the blue. I barely managed to get away.”

It was funny they called the head Guardian the little general, too.

Tomas grumbled, “Well. I suppose.”

Tenthé wasn’t sure that Tomas understood who was really in charge. He might have the title, but there was no way he had the experience of the Guardians, who may have been around since forever. Tomas would be a good leader for peacetime, but he was the wrong person for a war.

Most of the time, Tenthé kept his thoughts to himself, but he took a chance and shared some of what he was thinking. “Putting your hopes on this Sage might be a bad idea. From what I learned, you have to make your own luck.”

The Lord Mayor opined, “You really aren’t just a little kid, are you?”

Although it wasn’t a question that needed an answer, Tenthé did reply. “I’m still a kid, but I’ve seen things. Some good, some not so good. I am what I am.”

“He is exactly how the book we found described a Tenthé,” Tomas added. “Our current thoughts are split. Some think there were many children started on the path to become what he is, but most of them fail, die, or are lost. Another group thinks there is some sort of super-god overseeing the whole thing. Directing what made him the way he is. We aren’t sure. But, it doesn’t matter. He’s what we’ve got.”

The Lord Mayor mulled this over. After a moment, he asked, “I’ve heard rumors that Isabell is the first Hand. What do you think?”

“That’s harder,” Tomas replied. “After the debacle with the families, she’s certainly a hero. But since she’s so strange, I don’t know if she is something more. Of course, the source of the rumors is Magister Grenville, and her information is quite… enigmatic, shall we say? So maybe. Perhaps probably. But, since the people like Isabell, we’ve decided to call her the first Hand. For now.”

Tomas thought for a bit, then added, “And I would argue that our chances aren’t as dismal as you might think. So far, there is no sign of the main body of the Horde, and even though we had this incursion, I will let you in on some other news.

“As you know, the Horde always comes here after besieging Angel City, which is at least a month away across the Wilds. It’s the nearest city, but the direct route is very dangerous; many of the messengers and spies we send disappear, or come back… damaged.

“The trade routes are much safer, but it takes around half a year to make the trip, one way, so much of the information we receive by this route is out of date. All the Cities along the way have their own intelligence networks, and sometimes we can use them to speed up the process, but still, it’s slow.

“Unfortunately, for the last year or so, we haven’t been getting much from our spies, or from the other Cities. Occasionally we get a dispatch, and it verifies the Horde is still at Angel City, but any other important details are missing or contradictory. I have asked the Guardians repeatedly for information, and they assure me that everything is fine. But lately I’ve come to suspect their reports are too… pat. Too normal, if that’s possible. It is quite frustrating!”

He took a breath and corralled his emotions. “But, we won’t solve this here, right now.”

He made a shooing motion at Tenthé and added, “Why don’t you go off to whatever class you don’t really need and we’ll get on with our job of running this perfectly operating City as it sails toward its doom.”

Not needing a further invitation, Tenthé hopped off his chair and walked out. As he passed a Guardian, it motioned that it wanted to talk. It resembled a spiky armored ball with a helmet. Tenthé was pretty sure it was one of the Lady’s kids.

“Hey,” he said as he reached the hallway.

“Hey, yourself,” the Guardian responded.

“How’s your mom?”

“Good. The new guy and her are getting along… she’s gonna have another kid.”

“Uh, okay.”

“They wanted me to tell you they have something important that you should know. It would be nice if you went to see them.”

“I guess. Same place as before?”

“Nope. But start there and look for the signs. Mach-Anot said you’d figure it out.”

“Ha, yeah! Not doing it. He’ll send me all over everywhere.”

“I don’t think so. Mom and him work well together. She wouldn’t let him. They got better things to do. They already stopped some assassins and gave them to us kids to play with. Kind of disappointing. They weren’t all that tough.”

“Any idea what she wants?”

“Nah, they didn’t tell me. If I knew, I could have made some money.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We all bet on everything, and anything about you’s worth a lot. I done good betting on you to smash things. You’re like us, I mean, like one of Mom’s kids. Something hits you and it breaks.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Good to help a buddy. What’s your name?”

“Uh, call me Eleventeen. Mom gave up on proper human type names a few hundred kids ago.”

Tenthé knew hundred meant many, although he didn’t know if it was a lot when you were counting kids.

As Eleventeen disappeared through a wall, Tenthé set an aimless course through the hallways. He wasn’t even sure what class he was supposed to be in, but it was hard to care. Things were about to happen… and the City was sonot ready.

Just then, Tenthé started feeling something weird. Looking around, he found a cube bouncing beside him, then a few, then more and more. Isabell formed as the cubes merged into a more human shape.

“You know, I think you’re spying on me.” he stated.

“Of course. Don’t worry, it’s easy. I’m nearly everywhere, now.”

“So how’re you doing? Holding it all together?” Tenthé asked with a snicker.

“Ha! Good one! Yeah, sort of. I am spread out so far that I can’t say that I’m still Isabell. I mean, I am, but being like this is hard for the original Isabell. Not sure this is going to end well for her. It would be a nice gesture to help her out, if you can.

“But anyway, nothing’s going to happen for a while, yet. What do you think about this Sage person?”

Tenthé paused as he thought about it, then answered, “The City ought to be stronger than it is. We have all the gods, new ones and old ones, Magisters, me, you, the Guardians. Maybe even the Guard. But it’s all a mess. And the Sage? One more strong person won’t help much. Maybe it’ll stretch things out, but, if we can’t stop their Mentor, then we’ll lose.”

“Have you thought about just leaving? Going somewhere that has a working Dreamer?” Isabell asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you staying, then?”

“Because I like it here. I have friends and I’m sure there’s got to be some way to get what we want. I don’t know how, but I hope we can figure something out in time.”

“Me too. I’m trying to make everyone work together, but it’s going poorly. I think the Dreamer is involved. People are being are being worse than just their normal dickish selves.”

“Yeah.”

At that instant, Isabell shimmered, broke into cubes, then reformed.

“Uh, that’s happening more now, isn’t it?” Tenthé said.

“Yep.”

“It’s not gonna stop, is it?”

“Nope.”

“Any chance of some kind of fix?”

“Maybe. There’s a lot of Magisters want to study me.”

“Good luck with that! I’ll see what I can do. I know some people… well, sort of people.”

“Okay. Anyway, I have to go. More meetings. No expectation anyone will listen, but sometimes I hit a few who are a touch better than the rest.”

She gave Tenthé a nod and sped off, melting into cubes as she hurried along, until everything disappeared with a crackle.

Tenthé had his own errands and headed out to find the Lady and Mach-Anot. While he walked, he thought about his conversation with Tomas and the Lord Mayor. Something was toying with them, but the two of them couldn’t see it for themselves. They weren’t stupid, and they might be lying, but he suspected something else was involved. Who or what? There was no end of possibilities.

He mulled over what he ought to do, but reached no conclusions.