We decided to eat dinner quietly downstairs in the tavern’s main room.

  Jorge had put out feelers and was arranging for horses and a trades-wagon with surprising success given the limited time. He had even decided to pay for goods. The half-silver mined in the Marchlands was of exceptional quality and in a rather dark turn, we'd seen the evidence of some of the Marchlands industry firsthand in Barrow-Under-Tine. Their water mills were, while nothing compared to the Riverlands, still serviceable. And so, Jorge had set about procuring a wagon load of half silver and ground flour, meal, spelt, and other grains grown locally.

  It would act as cover for our group and explain our slightly prolonged stay at the inn, but it was a substantial amount of coin to part with, even if the local currency of the Marchlands was devalued somewhat in comparison to the rest of the Sunsets and the Riverlands. Jorge was happy to pay without blinking though, and I did wonder once more how old this man was and how wealthy he truly could be.

  He was powerful, I knew that. Vera respected his martial strength as well as his wisdom, which told me all I needed to know about his competence when it came to fighting. But where was the limit? Was he simply her senior in age and thus a little more experienced, or was he truly realms above her? Was he a 4th tier? I'd taken his word that he was simply an old and canny 3rd tier, but he was enigmatic, if anyone could be said to be, and he could always be obscuring the truth. I wondered then if Nathlan’s skills would work on him.

  But if he was 4th tier, why were we skulking about in the shadows, procuring grain supplies and planning a rebellion? If Jorge was in the 4th tier, why did he not simply stride up to Castle Ryonic, blow apart the walls and take the duke's head himself, declaring it an act of vengeance before recusing himself from the Marchlands and the Sunset Kingdoms entire?

  He’d obviously have to leave immediately to shield Vera from retaliation by others, but it could surely be done. He'd spoken before about the balance of the great powers, about how despite their age and wisdom, their increased power came with exaggerated emotions that often ran hot, and that it was a wonder the world was as stable as it was. Was he part of that stability?

  The questions swelled within me as we ate, but I waited until we were in a safer environment to ask, and by then I had been distracted by the upcoming plan. Once we were safely ensconced in our rooms, and Jorge had confirmed that there was nobody within earshot, we discussed frankly.

  We sat around one room, an empty tin bathtub in one corner, and platters of food arrayed on the floor before us. We were no longer dressed for war, instead in our bed clothes and those of us with long hair still drying it, Sadrianna and Jacyntha with a towel wrapped around their heads comically to speed up the process. Vera had magical means of doing so, and Nathlan and I just accepted the cold, letting our long hair dry naturally.

  “So, lad, you have a plan?” Jorge asked.

  “I have a…seed of a plan,” I answered carefully. “I need you all to nurture it into a real one.”

  I met the gazes of everyone present before dropping my idea. I was swiftly shot down.

  “No,” Jorge said, at the same time that Vera exclaimed; “Not a chance!”

  However, I was persistent. Barrow-Under-Tine weighed on all of us in different ways, and our trip through the Riverlands had had a profound effect. Eventually I got through to them, and the issue became not whether it was a stupid idea, but whether it could work.

  Once we reached that tipping point in the conversation, I knew I had won, and I relaxed somewhat, sitting back and letting the tactical minds discuss.

  “The crucial problem will be making sure the duke doesn’t raise his guard in response,” Nathlan said. “Vera can’t accompany you, for obvious reasons, but can Jorge?”

  We all looked over to the old man, who tugged on the end of his long braid in thought for a few moments before shaking his head. “No, lad. Can never be sure about these things, but I doubt I’ll be able to fool the duke or his spymaster – Vera, you said she’s good, aye?” at Vera’s nod he continued. “Well then, not much chance of that, I reckon. Can’t be me either.”

  I personally suspected that Jorge was more powerful than he was letting on, but the general trend seemed to be that you could obscure your own power to the level of somebody beneath you, but not easily below their own strength. In other words, Jorge could mask himself as a simple 2nd tier to my senses, but no lower, without great difficulty.

  Therefore, he would still appear as a powerful 3rd tier to Duke Ryonic if he accompanied me to the castle, and so neither of our two most powerful warriors could slip inside the castle with me. Which brought about a question; even if all of us ‘youngsters’ could get into the castle without arousing undue suspicion, would we even be able to enact the second step of the plan? That is, weakening the castle and allowing the intrusion of Jorge, Vera and possibly other members of the rebellion, if there were any.

  We put that aside for a moment, as the suggestion of sending us all in, minus Vera and Jorge, prompted strong pushback, at least initially.

  “There’s no way we can let you just waltz in there like the happy little idiots that you are!” Jorge huffed. “Lamb and Nathlan try and get themselves killed every single time they are left alone, and while I might trust Sadrianna with something like this,” to which she inclined her head politely at him, “Jacyntha’s also got some of the ‘impulse control issues’ that Lamb seems to inspire in everyone he’s with.”

  I shared a look with Nathlan as Jorge finished his tirade, raising my eyebrows in surprise. “Firstly, seems like you’ve kept that inside for a while, Jorge. You good?” I asked with a cheeky smirk, to which he just scoffed at me. “And second, when have me and Nathlan ever-”

  “Lamb…” Nathlan said, miming a cutting motion by his throat to get me to shut up, but the damage was done.

  “Let’s see here, lad. The Iona Chasm – you go and do the one fucking thing I tell you not to, almost immediately. ‘Knee deep in ribcage’ as I heard it, and you lost your weapon to boot,” he said.

  Vera joined in cheerily, saying, “Two points.”

  “Then,” Jorge continued, “we get to Colchet, and you have the most foolhardy idea of the century and decide to fight a bunch of criminals for no good reason.”

  “One point” Vera added, helpfully.

  “It wasn’t for no good reason!” I protested. “They were harassing an old man outside. They would have gone after Sally next, I’m sure!”

  “Who the fuck is Sally!?” Jorge asked in exasperation.

  “You know, Sally the Tinkerer? Made my old spear and shield? Short lady, talks fast, sounds a bit like you when you’re serious, but even less understandable.”

  Jorge’s stare was heavy as an anvil across my shoulders, and I managed to match him eye to eye for only a few moments before wilting. He sniffed and continued. “Right, and even after that, you then go and run off on your own, without waiting half a day for one of us to return and make sure it’s safe.”

  “That’s four in total, by my count” Vera chimed in once more.

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  There was silence for a few moments as I tried in vain to think of a retort, and then Nathlan leaned across to me and whispered, “I tried to warn you.” He oozed smugness, and his whisper was deliberately loud enough for the whole room to hear, and it broke the tension. Chuckles and snorts sounded before Jorge brought us back to the issue at hand.

  “Point is, it’s plenty dangerous enough just to get inside that castle, but to do so without one of us,” he said, pointing to Vera and himself, “by your side is another thing entirely. The Lord Castellan is a 3rd tier, and a powerful one by now by Vera’s best guess. The disparity between you all, even if working together, is far too great to overcome, and that’s before you factor in the others within the castle.”

  “I get that it’s a risk, we all do,” I said. “But unless you and Vera can just walk right up and smash open the gates, or leap over the walls, I don’t see what other options we have.”

  “You know we can’t do that, lad. As I said, that castle ain’t just a structure of stone and wood, else your Faultline skill could bring the whole thing down in one go anyway. There’s magical protection woven throughout.”

  “It’s Shatter Point now,” I reminded him, even as I thought back to our earlier conversation.

  The walls of Castle Ryonic, alongside other similar structures, were doubtless enchanted somehow, rune circles carved into their very foundations to protect the stone from physical penetration, magical traps laid for unwitting trespassers, and general strengthening. I thought back to the pitifully small stone walls surrounding the port-towns in the Riverlands, and wondered if perhaps they had similar magical reinforcement that turned what seemed a laughably feeble structure into a true defensive formation.

  “And the point is that we won’t be alone for long. You and Vera can blast your way through or over the walls as soon as we take down the defences. Once I’m inside, I’ll obviously be busy, but the others…” I trailed off.

  “but how are you going to neutralise wards laid into the very foundation of the castle?” Vera asked, and I grinned in response.

  “It just so happens that we have one of the most talented ward-crafters in the continent right here!” I said with a flourish towards Nathlan.

  He waved me off though. “I am a ward-crafter no longer, Lamb. I gave up my old class, remember? Even a minor Wavebreaker from a middling family was able to break through one of the free-form wards I set not long ago.” He sounded a bit bitter at the end, but I was unperturbed.

  “But we don’t need you to craft any wards, my good friend!” I said with enthusiasm, like I was sharing a great secret. “We need you to break some. And didn’t you just admit that a middling Wavebreaker could disrupt a ward without the owner noticing, in the middle of the night with an ambush on the horizon? Why,” I crowed, reaching out to the heavens in the most melodramatic way I could, “imagine what the most talented of his generation could do to a set of wards he could study ahead of time?”

  Jorge, to his credit, did tilt his head in consideration. “Could you do it, lad? Break the castle protections?” he asked.

  Nathlan seemed about to protest but then paused in thought. “It would depend on how they were enchanted, of course, but most of Western Tsanderos uses runic circles carved directly into the building materials, and they can be altered easily enough with the proper application of force…”

  We waited as Nathlan further considered, and I could feel a building excitement in the room. Eventually, he answered once more. “Yes, I believe I could. I may not destroy them all, but I should be able to disrupt enough that you should have no problem entering.”

  The scholar’s words lit a fire within my belly then, and I leapt to my feet in triumph, beginning to pace. “So we have a plan then?” I asked the others, their faces upturned and following my movements. Vera looked suddenly eager, Jorge wary, Sadrianna and Jacyntha both impassive, and Nathlan thoughtful.

  “We present ourselves to the duke, asking for a bounty. He invites us inside and treats with us for a few bells – probably offers you three a room or two for the night. I will doubtless be transported to wherever the ruins actually are eventually, but considering it would be a long project, I doubt we’ll depart immediately,” I said, gesturing all the while.

  “While he is confirming that I am indeed god-touched, and probably doing a little carrot and stick routine to scare me into helping him, you guys can explore the castle and take note of the perimeter wards. Meanwhile, you two” I gestured at Jorge and Vera, “are waiting in the wings for the moment that Nathlan drops the wards and signals you, and then you’re in there, like a fox among the hens.”

  “It’s sound in theory, but-” Jorge began, but Nathlan interrupted him.

  “Is it?” he asked. “What if the duke refuses us entry and just takes Lamb? What if he pays us immediately and then turns us away? What if he suspects Lamb is lying. He is a powerful mid-2nd tier warrior, after all – not exactly expected of a naive god-touched without help.”

  “Thanks mate,” I said with a wink, and Nathlan scoffed back.

  “You bring up some good questions, lad,” Jorge replied, “but no plan is perfect, and I think you’d be surprised what people are willing to ignore so long as it gets them closer to what they want. Give ‘em just enough that they can fill in the blanks with a plausible explanation, and they’ll be so busy patting themselves on the back for figuring out your secrets that they won’t notice you lying through your teeth.”

  “But you’re right about Lamb’s power – that’s an issue that’s sure to put the duke on guard,” Vera pointed out.

  “I could wear that amulet from The Blending again? Lower my attributes, come off as a meek 1st tier once more?” I suggested, and Jorge raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “Aye, that could work actually, lad,” he said. “Won’t be perfect, mind. There’s a reason it wouldn’t work for a stranger like me, but if he is already expecting a weak and scared person with no options…” he nodded to himself. “I like it.”

  “So we have a plan?” I asked once more, hopeful and excited in equal measure.

  “Aye lad, possibly,” Jorge replied. “Only question is whether Vera and I will be enough. With the Riverlands starting to erupt, I’d bet the duke has started to prepare for something. Will depend what Vera finds out from her network, I suppose. Any help we could receive though…” he trailed off, turning to Vera.

  “I’ve got a meeting set tomorrow. All of us. We’ll see what comes of it then,” she said simply.

  I snuggled into the relatively plush, though objectively tattered, bed. The pillows and mattress were stuffed with feathers and straw, and while the inn was relatively ramshackle in comparison to the one in Colchet we had stayed in, it was still far more luxurious than staying in a single bedroll out in the wilderness. Still, I found myself missing the noises of the forest; the gentle sway of trees and rustle of rodents rooting around in the night for their food.

  The plan was set, with some minor amendments, and I now had hope that we could win this war before it even started.

  Myself, escorted by Sadrianna, Jacyntha, and Nathlan, and disguising my true power with the amulet I'd used in The Blending, would present ourselves to Castle Ryonic. They would pose as mercenaries from the mountain clans that had captured me crossing the Dragon-Spines and looking for a reward. We would no doubt be invited by the duke inside for a feast or some standard hospitality, especially if we arrived late at night and travel stained.

  Meanwhile, I would be taken presumably straight to the ruins, although it did depend on how long the duke had, how urgent and desperate they were, and also on what methods they had to determine who was god-touched.

  We knew they had some method of tracking us. That much was clear from the documents that were found in Colchet and from the behaviour of the lions so far, but what exactly that mechanism was still remained a mystery.

  From there, it was out of my hands. My job would be to keep the duke and as many of his men as possible occupied. Ashkanian vaults, after all, were dangerous things, and he was likely to want to be there himself, and likely with support of some of his most trusted guards or advisors.

  They were also complex, and even were I trying my best to help, which I obviously wouldn't be, it would likely take many, many days before I could break through and make substantial progress. So I would survey, delay, learn what I could, and leave the others to collect their bounty and sabotage the castle before leaving.

  They would doubtless be followed afterwards for a day or two to ensure their story held, but they would either kill their leads and come directly to Jorge and Vera if things were urgent, or leave the Sunsets and double back afterwards if they weren’t. They could then report on the state of things in Castle Ryonic, the numbers of troops that he had to bear, the state of repair of the castle, and what defences they had disrupted and what still remained. This would allow the others to more effectively plan a lightning-fast siege.

  It was a risk, of course, like everything, but I was willing to take a few risks if it increased the likelihood of our first strike being the only one we needed. While I had been hardened by this new world, my conscience could not bear if we crossed another desiccated village, lives strewn about like a child's playthings, with the knowledge that our actions had led to this, even if we weren't the direct cause.

  I would not be a cause of innocent death, and I did not want to be a catalyst of it either, though I knew sometimes it was an inevitability. To change things was a violent endeavour, after all. As the founder of the Desolate Empire had written so long ago; ‘a revolution is not a tea party, it is a wild and bloody affair, and one must be sure of their conviction before they embark upon it’.

  I felt I was only just starting to comprehend the true meaning of those words, but I had done all I could to avert catastrophe, and I slept soundly that night.