Raith held his breath as his teammates stepped toward the mirror.

  He’d only ever tested this with Moira, and a small part of him still worried it wouldn’t work with anyone else.

  Nyhm was the first to stride through, passing across the shimmering surface and vanishing into the library beyond. Thea followed a moment later. When Tolliver saw the others disappear safely, he took a steadying breath and stepped through as well.

  Zinny hovered beside Raith, her wings flickering with excitement.

  “This is so exciting!” she said brightly, then darted in after the rest.

  Raith stepped through last, into his mental space, and relief washed over him. The fact that his dearest companions stood beside him in this place was amazing.

  He glanced back to see the aethercore, mounted precariously in a crude metal cradle atop the mirror’s frame. That was going to need serious reinforcement, not just to stop it from falling, but to keep anyone from stealing it.

  His companions stood nearby, staring around the vast library in open wonder. Thea ran her fingers reverently along the spines of the books.

  “Can we show this to my dad?”

  Raith smiled broadly. He’d had in mind to do exactly that since the Hollow Earl’s library.

  “Absolutely.”

  Tolliver pulled one down, paging through the yellowed script with wide eyes.

  “You’ve read all of these?” he asked.

  Raith nodded, feeling a quiet surge of pride.

  “With time, I hope to read ten times this many.” He gestured toward the far side of the room. “But wait, let me show you what my latest braid has unlocked.”

  Another doorway waited there, faintly glow peeking around the edges. Nyhm exchanged a grin with Thea. “After you.”

  They stepped through together…and stopped dead in their tracks.

  Beyond the threshold stretched a grand entry hall that could have belonged to any noble estate in Beckhaven. Polished stone, sweeping staircases, and sunlight filtering through tall crystal windows. Living greenery trailed from planters, climbing along carved pillars in a way that felt both cultivated and wild, a detail borrowed from his visit to the Warden of Borders.

  “This…” Thea whispered, turning in awe. “How?”

  Tolliver hurried up behind her.

  “How what? What is it?” Then he, too, stopped in his tracks, eyes widening.

  Raith smiled faintly.

  “This is my latest gift from the Weavers.”

  He stepped into the hall, his boots touching down lightly on the marble floor.

  “I can configure it however I want,” he explained. “The design changes as I imagine it, though the number of rooms always stays the same.”

  “And this is all in your head?” Tolliver asked, frowning in disbelief. “We’re inside your mind right now?”

  “Sort of,” Raith said, scratching his chin. “Not exactly. It’s not quite that simple. I think it’s some combination of Weave and Dreaming. A kind of pocket dimension I created with my [Skill]. The mirror lets me bring others through.”

  Zinny spun in the air, wings glinting.

  “Oh yes, I can feel it!” she said delightedly. “There’s so much of the Dreaming here. I feel right at home. I think I might live here!”

  Raith’s stomach dropped. “Ah, no,” he said quickly, blanching at the idea of a mischievous pixie loose in his mental domain. “You can visit, sure, but nobody’s staying.”

  Thea wandered slowly through the hall, thoughtful.

  “So this is the [Mnemonic Manor]? I don’t know what I was expecting when you told me, but this is so much better. What’s the next upgrade?”

  Raith grinned.

  “[Mnemonic Lorehall]. Evidently, it will let me add spaces where mental constructs from the books I’ve read can teach their contents directly. Lessons, techniques, history…all of it.”

  Nyhm’s eyebrows went up very slightly.

  “That’s quite an ability.”

  Raith nodded eagerly.

  “We're going to grind so many [Skills]. And speaking of mental constructs, look!”

  He clapped his hands twice.

  A small brownie appeared beside him in neat uniform, bowtie and all, much like the ones they’d seen serving at the Hollow Earl’s estate.

  Zinny darted forward, sniffed it, and recoiled.

  “That’s not a real brownie. It’s more like a daemon.”

  “Yeah,” Raith admitted. “They’re just woven together from bits of the dreaming. I can design them however I want, but they’re more like constructs than people. Still, the place apparently allows for multiple servants. I don’t know what I’ll do with them,” he added, scratching his neck, “but it’s pretty cool.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Tolliver had wandered back into the library, examining the place with a scholar’s fascination. Raith followed him and continued.

  “One more thing. When I’m using [Life in Staccato] in here, it affects the entire space. No time passes outside while I’m inside. Moira helped me test it, and it’s the only reason she was able to get all the spellwork done before we got home. As long as [Staccato] is active, we can stay here indefinitely.”

  Thea blinked. “That’s…insane.”

  “It really is,” Tolliver murmured, stroking his chin. He glanced back toward the mirror, his expression thoughtful. “And our presence is made possible because of that aethercore.” He turned to Raith. “You do realize, if anyone finds out about this, they’ll stop at nothing to take it from you.”

  Raith grimaced.

  “Yeah. That’s crossed my mind.”

  He paused, then looked up with a small, almost conspiratorial smile.

  “But I’ve got a plan. Tell me, what do you think about trading away one or two of those dungeon artifacts?”

  ***

  The Drunken Crow looked exactly as Raith remembered it.

  Only a couple of tables were occupied at this time of day, but behind the bar stood the ever-present Woeful, calmly polishing glasses. The corvid cocked his head to one side as Raith approached and opened his beak.

  “Journeyman Raith, it is a pleasure to see you again. Can I interest you in a drink?”

  “No, thank you, Woeful. It’s good to see you too. I’m actually looking for the Guildmaster, if he’s around?”

  Woeful gave a jerky nod up and down. It looked strange on him, a movement that was clearly adopted from his time around humans rather than natural to his species.

  “Guildmaster Embry is in his office below. You’re welcome to go knock on the door, Journeyman.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll stop and chat on my way out.”

  Raith turned to leave, then hesitated and looked back, remembering the maze of corridors that seemed to run beneath half the city.

  “Umm…how do I find his office?”

  Following Woeful’s very precise directions, Raith made his way through the guild’s underhalls. A few thieves gave him suspicious glances, but flashing his journeyman’s coin earned him quick nods and no questions. Evidently, thieves did not make a habit of prying into each other’s business. He peered around at the walls, increasingly convinced there were protections to this place he hadn’t noticed at first. Whatever defenses it had, they were too well hidden for even Raith’s keen eyes.

  The door to the Guildmaster’s office was completely unremarkable. Plain wood, no sign or marking to distinguish it from the dozens of others that lined the halls. For a moment, Raith thought he must have taken a wrong turn. He went back to the corner, counted the doors as Woeful had instructed, and reassured himself this was the fourth one.

  “That should be it,” he muttered, and gave a firm rap on the door.

  A voice with a faint rasp answered from within. “Come in.”

  The room beyond was nothing like what Raith had expected.

  It wasn’t an office so much as a workshop. Broad and cluttered, but meticulously organized. The walls were lined with workbenches, each covered in tools arranged on pegboards, every shape outlined in white chalk to show exactly where it belonged. Several tools were missing, presumably in the hands of the Guildmaster himself, who stood near the center wearing a strange pair of goggles, peering down at a small metal contraption with fierce concentration.

  On the far side of the room sat a desk buried under a scatter of papers and one familiar tome Raith recognized instantly, since he’d been the one to supply it.

  Near him, on the closest workbench, lay an oval piece of metal the size of two fists, smooth and seamless, with no hinges or markings. Curiosity got the better of him. Raith picked it up, turning it over in his hand to inspect it.

  “I’d put that down if I were you,” came Embry’s dry voice.

  Raith quickly set it back where it had been.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy. Is it delicate?”

  Embry approached, lifting a thin metal probe from the bench. “Delicate?” He jabbed the probe into a tiny indentation on the device.

  A sharp clang! rang out as a spiral of hand-wide blades burst from the smooth metal shell, snapping open like a mechanical flower.

  Raith flinched, jerking back as the blades whirred to a stop. He glanced down at his hand, rubbing it as though to confirm it was still attached, even though he hadn’t been holding the thing when it went off.

  Embry arched an eyebrow. “Never wise to go poking around a trapmaster’s office.”

  Raith nodded sheepishly. “Noted.”

  “Now then,” Embry said, setting the device back on the bench with practiced ease. “What can I do for you today, Raith?”

  “Well, Guildmaster...”

  “Embry,” the gnome interrupted with a wry smile. “Please, just call me Embry. Unless, of course, you’d prefer I call you Lord Raith for the entire conversation.”

  Raith chuckled. “Of course, Embry. I have an item, and now a manor, which I need to protect. I was hoping we could strike a deal. I could use your expertise with traps to ensure my valuables are kept secure. I’d also imagine you didn’t build this place alone. You must know craftsmen who are…discreet. I was wondering if we might be able to employ some of their talents to help fix up my manor.”

  Embry stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I see. I daresay I got the better end of the bargain in our last transaction, so I’m inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt this time. However, my time and my talents don’t come cheap, nor do the craftsmen whose services you wish to employ.”

  Raith described in more detail what he had in mind.

  “And what is it you offer in exchange?” Embry asked.

  Raith reached into his satchel and pulled out the scrying orb they had recovered from the the Tarn. The team agreed that if the Thieves' Guild were willing to help, this would be the item to push for the best bargain.

  The gnome raised a monocle to his eye and examined it closely. A slow smile spread across his face. He nodded, clearly pleased.

  “Yes, yes, I do believe we can come to an arrangement.”

  Raith let out a small sigh of relief.

  “Now then,” Embry continued, “there is one other matter that will require your attention in our little bargain. And for that, I promise to make your treasures virtually untouchable, and to provide the craftsmen needed to conceal whatever secrets your manor holds.”

  Raith narrowed his eyes slightly. “What’s the catch?”

  “In addition to the orb,” Embry said, “I need you to use your position as Lord to help me uncover a mystery. One of my thieves attempted a heist at Lady Greendawn’s estate. You’ll be invited to a party there in the coming days.”

  “Wait,” Raith interrupted. “How do you know I’m going to be invited to a party?”

  Embry smirked. “Because the Lady invites all new nobles, and she’s renowned for her gatherings.”

  “So, this is a [Quest], then?”

  “No,” Embry said firmly. “This is not a [Quest], it’s part of our bargain. You’ll do this to secure the services of the finest trapmaster in the Three Kingdoms, and the craftsmen for your little mansion of secrets.”

  Raith folded his arms.

  “And what exactly do you want me to do? I’m certainly no detective.”

  “While you’re at the party,” Embry said, “I’ll provide you with several names of people who may be able to help. Ask around discreetly. What I want to know is why, rather than winding up in prison, my thief simply vanished. What is the good Lady hiding that she’d resort to such measures? It is not typical behavior for nobles.”

  Raith frowned. “And if I don’t find anything?”

  “Then you don’t find anything,” Embry said with a shrug. “All I ask is that you make an honest effort. I trust you at your word, just as you must trust me at mine.”

  A knock at the door interrupted them.

  Embry raised an eyebrow. “Do we have a deal?”

  Raith inclined his head. “We have a deal.”

  “Come in,” Embry called.

  The door creaked open, and a familiar ugly face poked through.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, gentlemen.” The man’s eyes lit up when he saw Raith. “I heard you was back in town, lad! If you’ve got time for a broken old thief, I’d like to buy you a drink.”

  Raith grinned in earnest.

  “Willoughby! I think I can make time for that.”

  Embry was already bustling back to his workbench.

  “We were just finishing up, Captain.”