Jonas dumped his bag at the foot of their usual table as soon as they’d entered the Frozen Boar. For a Thursday evening, it was already busy, but the innkeeper had been warned when they headed out and kept the table ready.
“I am not going to the Bank to get the rest. Not today, not tomorrow,” he announced.
“What? You’re the team head,” Laura joked.
“And all of you have their identity registered at the Bank.”
He mollified his stance immediately.
“I’m willing to get two bags to the Faire tomorrow.”
“Three.”
“You can probably carry everything yourself at over 140 Strength,” Jonas asserted.
“Not enough hands this time. It’s not a question of strength, but encumbrance,” she said, smiling again.
Alton interrupted them.
“Notice anything? There’s black crepe everywhere.”
“Uh?”
“Someone died,” Ira immediately said before heading to the bar.
The rest of the team watched as he exchanged a few words with the barkeeper, before coming back.
“The Heir’s died. A week ago,” he announced.
For a few seconds, Jonas wondered what ill could have befallen the Princess before realizing that she wasn’t the heir, but only second in line.
“Her Highness’ father?”
“Yea. Sometimes even the highest healer tiers can’t do much.”
“Miracles are the province of the Lord and brought by his Saints, not mere Professionals,” Guss added.
They all waited a bit in silence until their order arrived. The innkeeper confirmed that the mourning period had been officially extended to Easter, which was why the symbols were still around despite George Frederick having been dead for nearly two weeks now, and buried in a grand ceremony last week.
“To the Heiress,” they all said as one.
Jonas contemplated silently his mug after the toast.
“Will this change things much? I mean for the High Office?” Ira asked.
“I doubt it. There’s probably even more pressure on her Highness, but the Duke most certainly doesn’t want to involve the Heir into a military raid, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jonas replied.
“So, everything proceeds?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“By the way, how does the levelling compare? What’s your conclusion, Jonas?” Jonathan finally asked.
Jonas compared his notes, doing some quick rough mental divisions.
“Well, obviously, we all got four levels, five for you, but that’s because we stayed there for two and a half weeks. I’d say it’s about the same,” Jonas announced.
“And based on what you expect, it’s only going to get worse,” Jonathan replied.
“The experience we get from things under our level diminishes faster than the experience we get from things over it. So… I’m guessing in a couple of levels, Outapis is going to start to really lose out.”
Seeing the doubtful glances on Jonathan and the rest of the team, he immediately added, “By my reckoning, it should take a bit less than eight months. The experience will pick up once we do regular tier-three rounds and start going into lairs. So… tier four in three Milestones halfway through November to late November. We will be good for next year.”
“If the Duke accepts,” said Guss.
“Who knows, maybe Jonathan will be able to control and shut down Gates next Adjustment,” Alton replied lightly.
Seeing everyone’s looks, he immediately added, “We can restart them. Why not shut them down?”
Jonas shook his head.
“Don’t need us for that. The War Office has experimented, and they can probably do Gate shutdown with a copy of that French infernal device. No, what worries me is that, even if we can convince the Duke, at least one of us will have to sit it out.”
“What?”
“Critical assets. Some philosophers at the Royal Society are convinced that, if the Great Gilded Gate was repairing itself, it would have reconnected after a while on its own, but until then, we’re all unique.”
“But why do it then?”
“In case,” Jonas said. “Maybe we won’t be allowed to strike the French. But until we’re told no, we’ll do what we can.”
“Meaning, we get to switch to tier three to get the most experience,” Jonathan said.
“Actually I have an even better idea for that,” Ira said.
“What?” Jonas said.
“The trunk. The tier three version,” he said.
“Wait, what?” everyone nearly simultaneously asked.
“I mean, all tier three zones have a large variation. And upper-tier three normal creatures would give the best experience while still being easy? And what zone do we know that has only max level creatures for its tier?”
The rest of the team looked at the Careful Barrier incredulously.
“What? Nobody thought of that?”
As they were headed upstairs to their usual team room, Jonas noted the folded paper over their number. He pulled it and found a small letter addressed to himself.
“Go ahead.”
He headed back to the main room, but the team table was already taken. He finally found a small side alcove and unwrapped the letter.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Dear Jonas Sims of England,
The United States is a lot less exciting these days with the most strangely gifted of Professionals gone. I’ve made calculations and found out that it would probably be as long to walk across the Labyrinth to London as it would be across the Atlantic, save for the less wet part. Alas, ships remain the fastest way to cross, and I will probably endeavour to do so sometime soon.
I have thought long about the ability to see the unseen, be it Gates or chests, and confer sight upon Professionals that you have. This made me think about what I should see but do not, the anomalies that are in plain sight but hidden by the Labyrinth itself from the view of all but you and your friends.
Have you ever seen a legend’s trophy? Those are guardians from tier four sometimes, and usually higher. They guard the best treasures, and along those a simple trophy that has no visible use. Strangely, I found out that English gentlemen were suddenly buying those, and for significant sums. In fact, it’s close to impossible to find any for sale these days, which hasn’t happened for years.
I have squirrelled away a few before the craze hit the stores in New York. And I am genuinely curious about what we have missed with these. Or, well, anything else in the Labyrinth.
I am quite sure you can see what they are for, with your Labyrinth instincts. Or if you haven’t seen one, then someone found out something, and you should seek out one and see for yourself what others do not because I am certain that you will find something major. And maybe it is me that will have put you on track. If that is the case, you owe me a dinner in the best London place at least. Or here, should you come again.
Awaiting news,
Sylvia Underwood
Jonas slowly blinked and exhaled.
He should have expected no less from Sylvia, actually. The woman was smart, quick, and decisive. She had suspected something and acted upon it. And was competing against the Crown’s agents in the Colonies.
He picked a piece of paper and pulled his quill before dropping his hand.
He couldn’t well lie to her. He would not lie to her, she did not deserve to be fed lies just because she was a colonial woman. Yet, the War Office was willing to temporarily even swindle British subjects if it meant an advantage for their teams.
Everyone knew it was temporary. Granted, the mental gymnastics required to reach through a Puppet to the orb to move it into its hidden inventory were not natural, but you did not need an Adjustment to do that. All it required was knowing this was how you did it. “Use your Puppet on this Orb” and it was obvious what the next step was and seeing what Orbs really were.
And, as one very famous colonial had said, three men can keep a secret forever if two of them are dead.
Jonas picked the quill again, before dropping it.
Lots of people said it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, but this particular matter was a bit bigger than that. In this matter, there was no right way to write her.
“How did I ever get involved in international politics?” he whispered softly.
The answer lay in the Queen’s Gardens, and French saboteurs and all those things. A master that hadn’t caught ill, the French picking a different day, a different and less stupid place to run to hide. And he wouldn’t have had to ask this question. He would be a simple leatherworker, occasionally dabbling into brand exotic things as the world changed slowly around him.
Nor would have he met Sylvia Underwood, actually.
Jonas pocketed letter, blank page and the rest and headed upstairs, to sleep it over. He entered the dark room, making his way to his bed just over Ira’s. After months of using the same room at the inn, he no longer needed to see his way, and the darkness was his friend tonight.
Assuming sleep would come. That was not the first time Jonas had spent a sleepless night worrying about this or that.
“By the Lord, I swear every time you bring gear, you bring more,” O’Hogan said, eyeing the bags the three of them were carrying. Jonas, Laura and Guss were sporting bags all over their shoulders and backs.
“We hadn't many last time,” Jonas replied lightly.
“Maybe every two Faires, then,” he answered, not to be contradicted.
“And it’s going to be it for a month or two,” Laura helpfully added.
“Oh?”
“We’re transitioning from tier two to three, and we’re not going to get much from tier three lairs for a while,” she explained.
“What stall do you need? A full ‘B’ I think, since you’re still doing that tier,” he asked for a confirmation.
The Faire was even more crowded than usual, despite being on a Friday. The Easter Even caused the Faire to shift a bit, as nobody wanted to pursue such mercantile endeavours on Holy Saturday.
There were lots of Professionals now, and Jonas had noticed an “F” category for tier four and above heroics, meaning that there were enough of those to warrant a special section – a single table and awning, maybe, but its own green and orange colours.
O’Hogan joked that this would be the last category ever. People running tier five lairs were in their upper tier five, and tier six, and almost all belonged to the same four higher-end companies like the British Scouts, which traded internally. Maybe he’d end up making an “S” category for special dealings at one point.
“Is it large enough?” O’Hogan immediately asked once they reached the assigned booth.
“Should be. Now let me unpack and sort all this stuff.”
Laura unrolled the skill list. They’d kept a small bandanna with a new Environment-Control skill that none of them could use yet, and Jonas had studiously checked the itemized list at the bank. They only had four exceptional items to trade for something good for the team, but the quality ones were specifically intended to get new skills.
It was doubtful they would get many skills, and even less directly useable right now, but anything they got, they would immediately grab once they opened a new skill sphere.
Jonas knew they had some time before picking those. Tier four was months away, they had plenty of time to plan which Plazas they would need. Having an entire set of tier three zones already unlocked along the Great Line meant a single lair requirement for many tier four zones.
Tier five would be the moment where they needed real planning and decisions, but that was years in the future, even with their advantages.
“Shoo.”
Laura made a gesture.
“Make your rounds and socialize. We got this,” she said as Guss started to sort through the bags, handing various gear to her.
“Your Royal Highness,” Jonas said, slightly smiling.
“Sir Sims,” Gustav, Heir to the throne of Sweden, replied, then traded descriptors.
“Congratulations on your first Defender Milestone.”
“I mostly just tagged along. The rest of the team is nearing their second already, and I’m still not with enough of the… vitals that are necessary to stand up to the front.”
“That will come quickly. We used to be all balanced in levels, but our progression differed, so we’re all levelling at slightly different speeds now. Well most of us, there are still three members who are in lockstep. I suspect that may change in a couple of additional Professions. But for now, I’m the lowest level.”
“Really? I thought, you being the leader of your team…”
“It’s mostly a question of being a strategist, and organiser, and caring about that stuff, rather than a question of levels or even Profession types. Although that means I’m also in charge of learning everything I can about the Labyrinth, zones, and so on.”
“Which you like.”
“Which I like. I wasn’t good at school except for my numbers, but with some improved memory from Intellect, it comes to me a lot easier. It also helps when you’re living that life daily rather than learning about the Lancastrian Wars or something.”
“Well, I like books. All monarchs are usually well-read, but I did like studying.”
“Well, you’re on your way then. Your teammates are probably not much more familiar with the intricacies of the Labyrinth than you are.”
“Thanks for the tip, Sims. I’ll take note.”
Jonas decided to ask.
“Her Highness isn’t around?”
“No. She’s back in London again. There are a number of negotiations already started about our possible betrothal.”
Jonas should not have been too surprised. The – unmarried – heir to the crown spending time around a royal prince had obvious implications.
“Really? Is that even possible? I mean you’re the heir to the crown of Sweden,” Jonas said.
“Yes. In other circumstances, this would probably have disqualified me instantly. At least I’m not Catholic, which would be even worse. But apparently, there is a faction that is thinking about what will happen if – when – the English beat Napoleon and free Europe.”
Jonas couldn’t see the link between the two for a second before he realized the implications.
“England wants to expand?”
“Essentially, yes. The various kingdoms of Europe will be in massive flux, even if they were freed tomorrow…”
Which, depending on the success of Agni, might happen that fast, Jonas though.
“… but England will probably not tolerate an independent France with a Great Gilded Gate. They would surely not let a new Bourbon ascend to the throne, and assert old claims. And so some are starting to think that the United Kingdom might become the new Union of Kalmar.”
“That would be… weird. I think.”
“Well, we Norsemen used to come and try to colonize England, so I guess it’s time for you to return the favour,” Gustav laughed.
“It’s probably better than the French do.”
The Swedish heir sighed.
“Bonaparte has put one of his henchmen on top, I’ve learned. One of his Professionals marshals, a guy named Bernadotte. A local tyrant for the great Tyrant. Sweden is still buckling under the new rule.”
He quickly added, "But when the push comes, he'll fall quickly. Remove the Tyrant, remove the shackles."