My idea that Snowy would rise to a challenge was proving to be true. She hadn’t earned a Skill by the time Marcus called us in for dinner, but she was well on her way. Following behind the two ladies - who continued to joke at my expense - I tried poking at my [Teacher of Skills] Skill and see how it responded. To my surprise, the Skill responded with a pulse of…something. It was hard to understand, and it strangely reminded me of the whispers from [Meditation]. Still, the message seemed to be an emphatic ‘close but not yet.’ Glancing at Abby, I tried again, asking how close my apprentice was to one of the many possible [Teaching] Skills. This time, my Skill was entirely silent.

While we waited for our meal, I made an effort not to lose myself in ruminating on the failure of my Skill, but I doubt I succeeded. Early on during the meal, Snowy asked me a few questions, which I answered, but she then turned her focus to Abby. Without comment, the pair decided that I wasn’t upset with them and left me to my brooding. And I had plenty to brood over. Mind controlling Mages, the bubbling civil war conflict from the Mage aligned Nobles and crafting Guilds against the Royalists, the coming King’s confirmation of Snowy as the Baron’s heir - despite the complaints of the Nobles and even some of the Royalists, and of course my own personal fear of the coming conflict between the Mages and the Skill Trainers. Of course, I found myself standing in the nexus of all of these conflicts.

Leaning back in my chair, I sipped my tea while the other two argued the merits of hair braids or hairpins for combat. Snowy believed that a simple braid solved the problem of flyaway hair. At the same time, Abby liked the idea of having a hidden last chance weapon. With my messy short hair, I had little to add to the discussion. It was nice to take a moment, and just listen to the ladies, letting my mind calm and drift. I was chewing on my issues in the back of my mind, but I knew that there was little I could do to solve them. Sitting there, letting the gentle murmur of the conversation wash over me, I closed my eyes and sipped my tea. The gentle heat of the liquid flowed through my body while I let ideas bubble up within me.

Broken pottery.

The idea popped up in my mind, percolating through my mind without context or explanation. It was an important idea. No, relax, let the thought come. Don’t try to grasp it, I thought to myself. Sipping at my tea, I worked to calm myself. Letting whatever would come, come. It took time to return to my relaxed state, letting my mind tell me what it had found.

Water leaking through a broken vase.

Before the idea could solidify in my mind, I was pulled out of my reverie. The Baron stomped his way through the mansion. His anger was evident. Rising from our repose in the sitting room where we had been taking tea, we followed the Baron when he gestured us along in his wake.

“I’ve already eaten, Marcus,” the Baron nearly growled at the servant as he approached. Bowing to the larger man, Marcus backed away as we followed the Baron into his study.

Collapsing into his chair, the older man yanked open his desk drawer and pulled free a large glass flask of a brown liquid. Pouring himself an extra-large glass, he quickly gulped down nearly half of it with a gasp then rubbed his face. Glancing at us, his eyes focused on Abby, then he blinked blurrily before he spoke.

“Sit you three. I’ve got news, and it’s not great,” the Baron said before he finished the rest of his drink.

Quickly glancing at each other, we grabbed our chairs and settled in while the Baron eyed his glass before he nudged the empty container away.

Straightening up behind his desk, the Baron gathered himself then stared at me then Abby.

“The King’s spies just saved your life, Abigail,” the Baron said, his words visibly shaking my apprentice.

Before I could say anything, the Baron raised his hand and gestured for us to wait.

“The Nobles under the sway of the Mages prepared a petition declaring you a danger to the Kingdom. They had enough clout that the King wouldn’t have been able to stop their petition. He was tempted to let the petition through and extract concessions from the non-Royalist faction,” he said while staring Abby in the eyes. Here he paused and let Abby’s near-death sentence sink in.

“Saving your life has cost him, a cost that I’m not sure he can afford,” my employer said while staring intently.

“You gave your word to protect them,” Snowy said with a growl of anger, interrupting her father.

Looking away from his daughter, the Baron stared at his desk before meeting her eyes.

“It gets worse. To defang this petition, the King will declare in court tomorrow that Abigail is donating a dosage of Noble’s Bane per month to the King’s armory in defense of the Kingdom,” he said.

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Quickly rising from her seat, Snowy leaned over the Baron’s desk and nearly shouted in her father’s face, “You swore that she would be fairly paid for her efforts!”

Shooting to his feet, the Baron shouted over Snowy, his face turning red with both anger and drink, “Her life or coin! It’s all I could do!”

Collapsing back into his chair, the Baron rubbed his eyes then looked up to the still glowering Snowy.

“The King will set aside the coin for her donation to the Kingdom as a dowry to her chosen husband. He will also reinstate her Noble line. There was little else we could do,” he said before turning to face Abby, “I’m sorry, but this is honestly the best protection attainable. I wasn’t aware of why Noble’s Bane was so rare. Most of the ingredients come from the north, but it’s the Alchemist Guild, which holds the secret of its production. The Mages work hand-in-hand with them to keep the recipe secret. They have shown their hand and made clear how they feel about the poison.”

Snowy still looked angry at her father but slowly collapsed into her seat at the defeated look on the Baron’s face.

Here I spoke up after gently giving Abby’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I believe that a Mage's spells are simply specialized Skills.”

For a moment, the Baron simply blinked at this news, then glanced at the three of us, seeming to realize that we had been holding this revelation secret from him. Finally, he shook his head and continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

“The King was taking the chance that since the Mages were pushing so hard for Abigail’s execution, that stopping them would harm them more than it cost him. It seems he was right. Still, this might be the match that lights the tinder of war. The King’s treasury has been bled, generation after generation, and my Barony was the first he was able to pass over to a loyal Royalist. My Barony is rich in gold, silver, and weapon metals, but I can’t pay for everything the King needs. The Mages, and the Nobles through the Guilds, still have a stranglehold on the purse-strings of the Kingdom. He has only enough soldiers and arms that the Kingdom would be set aflame if he calls the Royalists to war.”

The Baron’s rant left us silent. I know that I was contemplating the horror of the Kingdom devolved into war. At almost all times, someone was at war in the Kingdom. Battles of succession, bandit-lords, rogue mercenary troops, Baron against Baron, sapient monster tribes, and even occasional attacks from outside forces, but the Kingdom itself was generally peaceful. Admittedly, this was because large-scale fighting was costly and historically resulted in undead abattoirs from these conflicts, rather than any sense of pride in the Kingdom or wish for stability.

Scanning the faces of the other three, I cleared my throat before saying, “I will contact the Skill Trainers. They will likely seek to stockpile doses from Abby in preparation for retaliation from the Mages. This move will be seen as confirmation of my ideas and will become a priority.” Turning to Snowy, I continued, “They will also likely speak to your mother and Grey-Arm-of-the-Mountain and eventually Blood-of-the-Mountain-Cat to trade for components. I’m sure they either have the recipe or know the ingredients, at least. I’m not sure what concessions they will make to procure a weapon against the Mages.”

At my words, Snowy’s face went still, but I could see the tension in her clenched jaw and the careful way she held herself.

The Baron spoke up at that point, “The King has plans to remove Blood-of-the-Mountain-Cat, but he hasn’t confided in me what they are. I’ve spoken to him of your need for revenge, and he has promised he will offer it to you if he can, most likely to tie you closer to him. Do not count your vengeance lost yet.”

The Baron’s formal words, obviously spoken in a paraphrase of the King’s, seemed to cool Snowy’s anger.

“The Mages have finally been roused to exert themselves. They typically act methodically, able to work on a time scale of generations. The Noble families not ruled by a Mage ancestor have been unwilling to act. They looked at it as a costly fight that might be put off each year. Silently, they watched small losses grow to ever larger ones but never so horrible to be willing to rouse themselves to act. This might push the Mages to respond and so sway those undecided Noble Houses. We will see,” the Baron said before he rose from his chair, then stopped as he stared at Abby.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I didn’t know the Mages would react in this way, or I would have acted before this,” he said before leaving his study. Walking from the room, the Baron had never before seemed to me as defeated and beaten as he did at that moment.

While I watched the Baron trudge from the room, Abby hid her face in her hands, her body hunching over into a ball, and cried. Before I could do more than reach to comfort my apprentice, Snowy had grabbed her and hauled her into an embrace, cuddling the crying woman while she rocked in her chair. The news wasn’t so bad that I had expected this response, but the stress and the close call was likely the last straw.

Pulling Abby into her arms, Snowy breathed deep then stood while holding my apprentice close. At the sudden rise, Abby went silent, her outburst slowing into sniffles as she hid her face in Snowy’s shoulder. With a gentle head bob, Snowy directed me ahead of her. Leading the way, I quickly opened the door as the pair followed me. Snowy carried the still sniffling woman behind me. Her footfalls were amazingly silent, considering her size and burden. Stopping in front of her door, I gave Snowy a questioning look, but she shook her head and looked to Abby’s own door. I had been worried that Snowy would want to comfort my apprentice, precluding us from discussing the day’s revelations privately in her suite. Despite my initial assumptions, I had found myself enjoying sharing living space with Snowy. While I had my own private quarters, it was an open secret that I spent my nights with Snowy in her own suite.

I was a tad uncomfortable with stepping into Abby’s private space.

Her suite was unofficially barred to the household’s male members, and somewhere I personally didn’t want to invade. That apprehension and curiosity were likely what saved my life when opening the door, and my [Combat Awareness] flared, allowing me to dodge the blade thrust to my chest.