Back in my castle, I dropped onto my enormous, super-soft 4-poster bed. Even with the lingering soothing effects from the Gloompetal Torte, my mind kept returning to the showdown with Burns. All the questions I still didn’t have answers for flooded back in.

  Would we get trouble from the scout teams Burns had led once they found out he was dead? Would Tony tell them Burns had gone on a psycho murder spree? We couldn’t afford any more divisiveness, but needed to unite. How to do that seemed to be getting more and more difficult to answer.

  With an effort, I forced myself to sit up and turn my thoughts to something more productive. My recently-acquired ability Twilight Blades was the most tempting, so I considered ways to maybe improve it even more. The blades would be fun to test, but Shadows could draw upon other types of mana too. Could I make my blades do that too?

  I did have one other shadow spell. Shadow Walk was amazing, using shadows for concealment and defense while opening up a way to teleport from one shadow to the next. Could I learn something from it to apply the power to my Twilight Blades ability? Or even learn to duplicate the spell?

  One way to find out. I partially activated the spell, and all the shadows in the room glowed in my mind, each one a tiny window allowing me to see the area around it. I could focus on any one of them and step through, but how?

  Without activating the teleport option, I engaged Spellseer’s Gaze, and the mana in the room became visible as glowing motes of dancing light. More types than I’d expected. Light mana, twilight mana, fire mana, and wispy flecks that might be time or space mana.

  I focused harder, seeking the underlying runes that controlled how the various types of mana and the spell worked and interacted. I caught flickers of light, hints of text clinging to the mana, the shadows, and my spell, but as hard as I focused, I couldn’t make them out.

  Finally, a headache started throbbing in the back of my skull and I released the spell and the abilities. Leaning back, I scowled. “I should be able to see more. I’ve got tier-1 Runesmith and Mana Control abilities.”

  Cyrus surprised me by responding right away, his soft chuckle echoing back and forth across the room. "Runes are foundational elements of magic that transcend tiers. You've made tremendous strides, survived exposure to runes so advanced they should have melted your brain, and gained insights well above your knowledge level. However, to advance into the realm of really understanding spells and deeper magic, you still have a very long way to go."

  Unfortunately, that made perfect sense. I was like a student who had learned how to write "Hello World" using Basic, but then wanted to dive straight into writing web objects.

  I'd keep at it. The potential for unlocking far greater power was definitely part of my interest. Even more, I felt drawn to runes in a way no other type of magic had quite matched.

  With a sigh, I put runes and mana out of my mind and turned to my messages. Queen Marisara would figure out that I wasn’t Tydrion soon enough, if she hadn’t already.

  I still had not received any other messages for Tydrion from her or other members of her court. I might have already been blocked. She could have warned them of Tydrion’s failure, but what if she didn’t know yet, or hadn’t bothered? My unexpected access to her message groups still offered a potential windfall of information, or even the chance to mess with members of her court.

  After considering some different ideas, the rough outlines of a plan started to form. I sent a message to Count Vhaernos, that scary flaming nymph lord who struck down his own spectral spy as soon as I wrested control over it.

  Count Blacktide: “Vhaernos, do you need me to take a break from hunting the man Lucas to help you set your house in order? How many wraiths have you lost now? And you even let one of the worthless humans turn one? You’re losing your touch, old boy.”

  His response came faster than I expected.

  Count Vhaernos: “Watch your tone, Blacktide, or I’ll remove your head before you’re forced to bow to Nextharos.”

  Count Blacktide: “You blow more hot air than that fool Ashkaroth ever did. I’ll win our great queen’s favor, while you’re forced to bow to Syvelis.”

  Count Vhaernos: “That mind-sucking whore? The weakling spouts nothing but lies.”

  The venom all but dripped out of the message. I’d definitely touched on a hot topic with that little dig.

  Count Blacktide: “At least she’s getting results.”

  Count Vhaernos: “All lies! When you’re Nextharos’s vassal, you think he’ll protect you from my wrath?”

  Again with Nextharos. It must have been a very public threat.

  Count Blacktide: “I’m not the one who should worry about Nextharos. I have a mole close to Syvalis.”

  Count Vhaernos: “Even your lies are weak. No one gets close to Syvalis. She might be a lying weakling, but not spy can conceal their intent from her.”

  Count Blacktide: “That’s why my spy works. They are absolutely loyal to her, but they like to boast too much. They’re the one who was gloating over your disaster today and the fact that soon you’d be relegated to the lower court.”

  Count Vhaernos: “More lies. You would never tell me about such a spy’s existence, if it was real.”

  He was proving sharper than I’d hoped. The one view I’d had of him had suggested he was a short-tempered, raging brute. Figured I could manipulate him more easily than a deceitful mind-reader like Syvelis. Maybe there was more to him than I’d realized.

  Count Blacktide: “Usually I wouldn’t, but you weren’t wrong. Nextharos is a dire threat to me. If the tides align, he could seize my holdings and take your place at the same time. He and Syvalis would win the greatest victory of the court in decades.”

  I was definitely taking some huge risks, but it sounded like Queen Marisara’s court was as much a hive of intrigue and backstabbing as any powerful ruling body back on Earth. The guesses seemed reasonable, and I had to try poking the hornet’s nest somehow.

  Vhaernos didn’t respond for a long minute. So long, in fact, that I feared I’d overplayed my hand and he’d figured out the ruse.

  Count Vhaernos: “I assume you have a purpose for contacting me.”

  Yes! He was biting. Now to reel in the dangerous fish.

  Count Blacktide: “Just as they are allying to destroy us, we too can ally to flip the plot back against them and finally destroy both of our enemies at once.”

  Count Vhaernos: “Nextharos is patient and cunning, but Syvalis is doubly so. You’ve never bested either of them before. What makes you think you can defeat them now?”

  Count Blacktide: “Because for the first time, I have something Queen Marisara wants.”

  Count Vhaernos: “The man Lucas. You have him?”

  Count Blacktide: “I do, but no one knows yet, not even our queen.”

  Count Vhaernos: “You play a dangerous game, Blacktide. I could inform her now and she’d eviscerate you for delaying the prize, then feed you to Nextharos.”

  Count Blacktide: “You could, but then you would lose too. I share this secret to show my sincerity. I need your help to unseat our enemies.”

  Count Vhaernos: “Regale me with your brilliant plan, then.”

  Despite the insulting tone, I sensed his interest. The brute couldn’t best his rival on his own. He must now feel like he held the power. He knew my supposed secret, so why not leverage that for more gain? Just the thinking I needed. I took a full minute before responding, as if I was choosing my words very carefully.

  Count Blacktide: “Syvalis uses traitors known as Martin and Trish Briggs. The man Lucas knows about them and the fact that they have been turned. From my prisoner, I’ve acquired a scroll that allows me to transform into his duplicate. I will create a little drama for the Briggs, making it look like Lucas escaped and I’ve pursued him to the far northern edge of Ruin, but then lost him.”

  Count Vhaernos: “What does that accomplish?”

  Count Blacktide: “It will set up the perfect opportunity for Syvalis to send her ally Nextharos down to scoop up the prize human and present him to Queen Marisara. It would not be the first time he’s stolen a prize from my hand, and that final victory would seal my fate and guarantee his dominance of my house.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Count Vhaernos: “But you would instead ambush and kill him.”

  He was reading the script perfectly.

  Count Blacktide: “Of course. The deception gives me the perfect chance to remove my rival once and for all.”

  Count Vhaernos: “How does this help me?”

  Count Blacktide: “We will meet first and I will deliver the man Lucas to you for safe keeping. Then when Nextharos ambushes me, your spies will record the event. I can turn the ambush on him and use an artifact I took from the humans to force him to tell the truth and confess to the conspiracy with Syvelis. Then I’ll kill him. When I return victorious to our great queen, you can also present evidence against Syvalis.”

  Again, a long pause, pregnant with so many possible meanings. It was hard to breathe as I waited to see if I’d overplayed my hand, or if I’d read the brute lord correctly. Hopefully he’d be thinking that even if the plan failed, he’d still be the one in possession of the human prize the queen wanted. He might even decide it would be simpler to murder Blacktide and take the prize, although he’d miss the chance to one-up his rival. Either option would work for me.

  Count Vhaernos: “Your plan is rife with the possibility of failure, but it’s worth the risk for a chance to toppled Syvalis. It will be expensive to buy a pass to Ruin, but manageable if I restrict my access to the far northern edge of the stage.”

  I barely restrained a laugh of glee as I typed my reply.

  Count Blacktide: “The investment will pay off handsomely when we both win. I am sure we can find other lucrative joint ventures in the future when we return victorious from this dismal world. I will meet you tomorrow morning just after dawn.”

  Count Vhearnos: “Even if you fail to lure the Briggs into position for Syvelis to send Nextharos after you, do not miss our meeting. Otherwise I will assume this entire conversation has been a lie and will remove your head when next we meet.”

  Count Blacktide: “I would expect nothing less.”

  Then I lay back and blew out a huge breath before laughing and punching the empty air. Yes!

  Queen Marisara either wasn’t sure if Tydrion was dead, or hadn’t shared the fact with her court. My Luck stat must have been working overtime to make that work. I could feel momentum building like an invisible tide and sat up again for my next ploy.

  I’d lured 1 powerful count down to stage 3. Instead of receiving a captured prisoner, he’d get my blades through the throat. Could I get another member of the court too, or even set up the Briggs to finally capture them?

  Next attempt had to be against Count Nextharos. His ambition radiated clearly through everything I’d learned about him. He’d bested Tydrion so many times, but lacked that final push to dominate him forever and win the Seal.

  Count Blacktide: “Nextharos, your time is up. I have the man Lucas and our queen will reward me with power you can only dream of. All your endless plotting and backstabbing and stealing my kills will be for naught, the useless flailing of a lesser talent.”

  His response did not come for half a minute, like he wanted to prove he was still above Tydrion and immune to his taunting. We’d see about that.

  Count Nextharos: “Are you still pretending to be a hero, little Tyrdion? Using your title in the chat does not make you noble. This scrambling for the scraps from the tables of your betters is humiliating. Admit you have broken your own house. Submit willingly to be my vassal, and I may even help you rebuild some of the honor of your house.”

  Those 2 really did hate each other. Exactly what I needed.

  Count Blacktide: “Keep laughing until it’s too late. You fool! By midnight when I return with the prize, your future will be sealed.”

  Count Nextharos: “We shall see.”

  “This is so much fun,” I laughed. Each of them accepted the fact that I had to be Tyrdion, so planting the lies was so much easier than I could have hoped.

  Nextharos hadn’t commented on the fact that I’d ‘accidentally’ revealed my timeline for returning. He had to be crowing over the fact that the idiot Tydrion had unwittingly set himself up to be robbed yet again. If the secret didn’t come out before midnight, I might get a chance to see the infamous Nextharos up close and personal.

  I collected my thoughts for a moment before venturing once more, this time targeting the member of the court I knew the least about, but who might pose the gravest risk to my plotting. Countess Syvelis seemed to be clever and devious and skilled at court intrigue. Would she buy the ploy, or see right through it?

  Count Blacktide: “Hail, Countess. May I beg a moment of your time?”

  I cringed at the submissive, boot-licking tone. Even pretending to kowtow so much to a member of Marisara’s court filled me with disgust.

  Countess Syvelis: “Blacktide, what brings you sniveling and begging at my door?”

  She didn’t even pretend to hide her contempt. Syvelis had to be firmly seated among Marisara’s closest advisors if she ran the traitors and other living spies, while Tydrion had been on the verge of being demoted to viscount. She would assume he had nothing to offer and would be desperate. Hopefully that would make her arrogant enough not to look for the lies I was about to tell.

  Count Blacktide: “I need your help.”

  Countess Syvelis: “My help? Oh, this is rich indeed!”

  Count Blacktide: “There is no need to gloat.”

  Countess Syvelis: “Of course there is. Gloating is so much more satisfying after a self-righteous worm like you has to come crawling back to me, begging for help after spouting off such grand claims of heroism.”

  I waited 20 seconds before replying.

  Count Blacktide: “We all make mistakes. I was . . . Wrong.”

  Countess Syvelis: “Was that so hard?”

  Count Blacktide: “Enough teasing. Will you help?”

  Countess Syvelis: “In what way?”

  Count Blacktide: “I lost the man Lucas and can’t find him.”

  Countess Syvelis: “Oh, dear. You are in a brine, aren’t you? And after claiming to have captured him too.”

  I could imagine her chortling to read of the woes of poor Tydrion Blacktide, rubbing her hands together in anticipation for what kind of favors she could leverage in a moment like this.

  Count Blacktide: “I did capture him, but the slippery devil is an eel. He’s hidden himself in the northwest reaches of Ruin. I know I’m close, but still he eludes me. Will you send the Briggs to help me locate him?”

  This time her response came fast and sharp.

  Countess Syvelis: “How do you know about them? You’re not in the intelligence circle?”

  So not even she felt totally secure. Like Vhaernos, she was prickly and defensive about her area of expertise, ready to lash out at anyone who might threaten her hold over her assets in the least degree. Good.

  Count Blacktide: “The man Lucas accused me of being their controller.”

  Countess Syvelis: “You? All humans are legendary fools. The Briggs are mostly worthless, but their hatred of Lucas has proven useful.”

  Count Blacktide: “Exactly, and it was clear he hates them as bitterly. If he spots them, he’ll make contact and that will be my chance to pounce.”

  Countess Syvelis: “Why would I risk my assets to help you, Tydrion? It seems you’ve made your play and failed.”

  The confidence was back in her tone as she fished for the greatest leverage. I was ready to give her some.

  Count Blacktide: “Because I have information you will wish to hear.”

  Countess Syvelis: “I doubt it. What could you possibly know that I haven’t already discovered?”

  Count Blacktide: “Vhaernos is planning to destroy your spy network.”

  Countess Syvelis: “That fool has the brains of burnt toast. He’s best at destroying himself. After today’s breach, it’s a wonder our great queen has not removed him already.”

  Count Blacktide: “That failure has made him desperate, and he blames you for all of his failures, including that one.”

  Countess Syvelis: “Of course he does. I have never understood why our great queen allows him to play at being a spy master. He lacks the finesse. Usually you do too. I never realized you paid attention to any of the court intrigue beyond yourself.”

  Had I pushed too hard? I couldn’t back down now, but revised a few of my ideas.

  Count Blacktide: “He’s planning on using his spies to lead the humans already hunting the Briggs straight to them.”

  Countess Syvelis: “That’s idiotic. Weakening my network will not serve the queen.”

  Count Blacktide: “But it serves him. If you suffer a loss as bad as his, then you are again on an even footing.”

  The next response was delayed noticeably longer.

  Countess Syvelis: “How do you know this if you’re stuck down in Ruin, hunting for a weak human you’re too useless to find? Your failure will not look good on the reputation of a supposedly great hunter.”

  Count Blacktide: “I have a contact that overheard Vhaernos raging about the breach, blaming you, and deciding to make sure you felt his pain.”

  Countess Syvelis: “You possess a vassal that clever? I have many spies watching Vhaernos and none have reported such a thing. If he was truly raging so loudly, they would have heard it. Be careful, Tydrion. Stepping into the game of intelligence can be fatal for the foolish.”

  Count Blacktide: “Do your spies know he has taken a secret lover from the lower viscountesses?”

  Countess Syvelis: “Now I know you’re lying. He would never stoop to such a tryst. Liranel would rip out his heart.”

  Liranel? Probably another countess? Or count? I had no idea about the sexual preferences of nymphs. Whoever Liranel was, they were having an affair with Vhaernos? I could use that.

  Count Blacktide: “His reasons I do not know, but my contact is supplying them both with talismans that allows them to step into the pocket dimension where they meet.”

  Countess Syvelis: “Who is this contact?”

  Count Blacktide: “I may not be as clever as you, but I am not a total fool. I will share more after you send your traitors to help me flush out Lucas.”

  Countess Syvelis: “You know better than to lie to me, Blacktide.”

  The fact that she didn’t even bother making a specific threat spoke volumes. She was indeed dangerous, with renown that frightened even the other conniving members of Marisara’s court. When I didn’t answer, she added a final message.

  Countess Syvelis: “They will move northwest. Look for them within the hour. Do not let the man Lucas escape you again. You’ve already spent the only good secret you had to play.”

  I fell back onto my back, laughing. No way! My night was getting full. If I could capture the murderous Briggs, I might be able to learn more about other traitors, or even more about Marisara’s court.

  If they escaped again, Syvelis would hopefully just assume Tyrdion had missed his chance to pounce. She clearly thought him an idiot, and that would confirm it. Not that she cared. She’d still have leverage to collect on that delicious little secret I’d dangled before her. She might even hint to the unknown Liranel that Vhaernos was being unfaithful. Who knew where that lovely bit of miscommunication could lead?

  Then I’d hopefully intercept Nextharos around midnight. If I could defeat him, that would give me another boost to my new Court Assassin title and maybe win me some more titles and holdings through my Atreides title.

  And then the mighty Vhaernos at dawn.

  Just thinking about it all made me feel tired, but also exhilarated. If I could pull off all those meets, I could rid Marisara’s court of a couple more powerful members, sow lies among others, and build up my power to face Thalorian and the the queen herself.

  Cyrus chose that moment to interject.

  “Great work, Lucas! This little drama will play well with your fans.”

  “Thanks.”

  I waited for the real purpose of his visit. He’d been avoiding unnecessary communication on this stage, so why break that now?

  “I’ve got a sweet deal for you.”