The successful participants were assigned rooms beneath the arena. Their room numbers were displayed on the walls, and many stood to depart, but the first trial wasn't entirely over, per se.

  Duels were currently being conducted. At the end of every trial except the last, successful participants could challenge their peers on grounds of honor or whatever else.

  Quite a number of people had challenged Caen, going as far as putting up points if he won. It wasn't unusual for challenges to come with incentives. Caen ignored all these, naturally.

  He would very much have preferred to stay and observe the other matches, though. Goat Mask, for one, had the most challenges issued against him. But it was nearly midnight, and Caen had somewhere to be.

  The identifier necklaces they'd been given were primed to their rooms, ensuring that the accommodations were secure and inaccessible to anyone else.

  It was a blocky compartment with just enough space for a bed, an armor stand, and a weapons rack. There was an adjoining washroom with plumbing. Caen was too paranoid to bathe or sleep here.

  He shut the door behind him and headed for the warp gate here in the accommodations area.

  Caen needed to adjust his gait significantly due to his new Kinesis passive augmentations.

  These are the sorts of problems I prefer to have, he mused to himself, smiling.

  He warped into Vai's basement, peeled off his armor, placed Stormsong on a rack, and used the secret passage to his room on the top floor.

  After he'd taken a long shower, Caen sat in his chair and jumped into the Deep Astral.

  ***

  “Perhaps it might be wiser for me to go instead?” Hshnol inquired of Vai.

  “No, no,” Vai said, waving a hand, his expression still thoughtful as he hovered in his rocking chair. “You have a lot you need to be doing right now. I’ll go.”

  Hshnol nodded once, then vanished.

  “So, how does this spell work?” Caen asked. “Will I be puppetting your senses?”

  “You'll only be able to see through my eyes and hear through my ears,” Vai said. “Though there is a version of this spell that would allow you to do that, puppet my senses. Very illegal in Tharinat. Anyway, you can communicate with me—

  [Via telepathic relay,] he finished, then chuckled.

  [Got it. Thank you, Uncle Vai.]

  [Well, let's see what Rithya has to say. This is very exciting. You runts these days are always getting up to the most ridiculous things.]

  Vai vanished.

  [Transmitting now,] he sent, seconds before Caen's vision was taken up by a small indoor garden. Lights shone from the ceiling overhead and were tinged green and pink by the plants and flowers there.

  Vai was seated at a table in the room. He morphed the wooden chair beneath him into a rocking chair. “Mm, that's better.”

  Across from him was the attendant whom Rithya had spoken through.

  “I imagined he wouldn't come himself,” the woman said, “but I certainly wasn't expecting you, Uncle Horavai.”

  “I suppose we imagined the same about you,” Vai said. “Behave as though Herb Mask were here. I'll voice anything he wants to say.”

  The attendant nodded. “The same applies to me. Treat me as though I were Rithya.”

  “So, where did a runt like you learn about Dalek?” Vai asked.

  “Here and there.”

  [I just raised an eyebrow, for context,] Vai sent.

  The woman sighed. “My… goals run counter to those of his organization.”

  “Impressive,” Vai said.

  “You're working with him?”

  “Who, Dalek? Nope. I've heard of him, but never had the displeasure.”

  Dalek was a notorious member of a secret magical society that influenced various conflicts in Vedulan. Uncle Vai had explained all this to Caen.

  The woman watched Vai quietly for several moments.

  “Anyone who cares enough to look into it already knows that you coaxed Lobos into endorsing Herb Mask.”

  “True.”

  “Does Herb Mask work for you?”

  Vai's vision shifted as though he were tilting his head from side to side. “Yes.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Then you know what abilities he used to affect mine?”

  “You're better off asking him,” Vai said pointedly. “So…”

  The woman let out a breath, stood up from her seat, and Rithya suddenly appeared in it. The other woman stood off to the side, hands in her pockets.

  “Alright,” Rithya said. “Let me just come out and say it: I don't want my secret exposed. My ability, I mean, and whatever little he knows about it.”

  “Looks to me like you both want the same things. Secrecy and an exchange of information. I can have Hshnol here in a moment to whip up a contract, if you're amenable.”

  “I'm a Contract mage,” Rithya said. “I can handle it.”

  Mage? Caen's brows creased at that. This was news to him. Had she received formal magical training?

  [Are you comfortable with that?] Vai asked Caen.

  [I'll trust your expertise on this, Uncle Vai.]

  “Great,” Vai said. “Herb Mask?”

  He was in Vai's Astral domain, which was essentially in Vai's mind. Vai, however, was in Grat-line right now. Caen exited the domain with a spell he'd adapted just last month.

  The next moment, he was standing beside Vai in the indoor garden, arms folded across his chest. The spell linking his senses to Vai's dissipated.

  He watched the room's other occupants from behind the masked helmet and armor he'd donned for the trial. Creating an astral representation hadn't been too difficult, though it had taken him a few minutes.

  Caen inspected Rithya’s soul structure—which had the weight of a peak Attuner—as she spelled out terms that he and Vai found amenable. They would reveal nothing of each other’s identity unless their agreement was magically amended. They also agreed to have a good-faith exchange of knowledge.

  Her Contract affinity flared alongside his.

  “Solid work,” Vai said. He worked in Grat and had nonconventional means of determining the veracity of an agreement while here.

  Caen dismissed his helmet. It was an astral construct, a fabrication of his mind.

  Rithya recoiled in shock. She turned to look at Vai, then back at Caen. “Is this some sort of prank?”

  Uncle Vai materialized another chair, and Caen nodded his thanks before sitting. “Your ability,” Caen said, moving past her remark. “It’s similar to mine? The result of several bloodlines?”

  Rithya blinked repeatedly as if trying to regain her composure. She nodded slowly. “Yes, yes. This is—huh. You found your third bloodline?”

  So three bloodlines were enough to form a gestalt. That was useful to know. Caen hesitated for only a moment. He needed to understand this. “My third and fourth bloodlines.”

  “I have four as well,” Rithya said, nodding.

  Caen was surprised by this. “When did you find out?” he asked. He'd known Rithya for years. She'd had a dud bloodline before he was born.

  “Thirteen years ago,” she said, guilt stealing over her face. “And I never—” she sighed. “I never did have a dud bloodline.”

  Caen was stunned. But even without having to think long about it, several reasons why she might have lied occurred to him. They were the same reasons why he was competing in the trials anonymously. Even Uncle Vai had mentioned how quickly the family Elders would seize control of him should they learn of Mimicry.

  Another thought occurred to Caen. “You were fourteen. How did you know to hide this?”

  She smiled. “I had help. A kind stranger. Someone like us.”

  “Us. So, there are others?”

  Rithya tilted her head. “How much do you actually know about our kind?”

  “You're the first I've encountered.”

  “Interesting. Well, I've met quite a few. Some that you might even know of. Oirick, for example.”

  Oirick was a very famous member of the family and currently held the record for the highest number of points earned in the Patronage trials. Technically. Uncle Vai had mentioned that the man possessed three bloodlines.

  “Ah,” Vai said, finally speaking up. “This suddenly brings a lot of things into perspective.”

  When they turned to him, he waved. “Assume I'm not here. Keep talking.”

  “Some call us Xihx.” Rithya continued.

  Caen squinted in confusion. “From the folktales?”

  Some bedtime stories his parents used to read him had described children possessed by fiends or malevolent spirits that twisted their bloodlines into something utterly unrecognizable and perverse.

  Later stories he'd read talked about how their bodies, minds, and spirits had been torn apart by fiends and stitched together in a horrific mess. The word Xihx was often used to mean muddled.

  “Folktales often find their roots in truth. That word originally means ‘the Unified’. It’s what researchers call us.”

  Caen processed all this quietly. He'd never thought to draw the connection between those stories and his own situation.

  “The academic term for these abilities is ‘meld’,” Rithya continued. “I’m very curious about yours, though. How was it able to interact with mine? And was your abjection cured?”

  “In a sense. My ability lets me temporarily copy the affinities of others. Once I copied Goat Mask’s Contract magic affinity, well…”

  She nodded. “What are your Bloodlines, other than the obvious two?”

  “Ardor, it's a—”

  “I'm familiar with Ardor.”

  “Right. The fourth one is… still mysterious to me. I don't know what it is yet.”

  “Rare, but that does happen. Conceptual bloodlines.” She shook her head. “Well, let's see; for me, it's a bloodline that afflicts me with empathy, one that allows me to track a single designated object wherever it might be, and finally, a bloodline based on Contract magic that allows for perfect equilibrium.

  “My meld allows me to create a network of people or minds, making it easy to share information, skills, and even expertise.”

  Caen wanted to inquire more about the ability, but she hadn't pressed him on his.

  “Why are you participating in the trials?” she asked carefully.

  “Points,” he said. “You?”

  “Same.” She paused. “I've been doing this for the past six years. Accruing points, I mean. Through my associates. This year, Goat Mask and uh, someone else, are the only participants of mine that survived the first trial.”

  She folded her arms. “You made waves today and seem to know what you're doing. I’d like your help in getting my guy to the fourth round.”

  “A partnership,” Caen said, suppressing a smile. “I don't see how that benefits me.”

  [Nice,] Vai sent, rocking back and forth in his chair.

  “Then help me make it benefit you,” Rithya said. “What do you want?”