Our shopping trip occupied the rest of the morning because I insisted on acquiring each of the several items we needed from a different shop. I was aware that this was probably overcompensating, but after my first visit to Gwyllthean I was making a deliberate effort to think ahead and act with care, and by doing it this way I avoided leaving behind a single shopkeeper who remembered selling the island’s only Asian-looking lord and his female bodyguard the complete disguises I planned on us using from now on. Aster didn’t complain, not even by making those sly ironic remarks with a deadpan expression she enjoyed so much, which I took to mean my precautions weren’t excessive.

By the time that was done it was getting later in the morning—not quite time for lunch, but we made our last stop one of the food stalls lining the main thoroughfare outside the walls on our way to the outskirts. The skewers of meat and vegetables thus acquired would stay hot for a while, and more importantly were part of the payment I planned to give my spy, since it was too risky to just hand him money. Besides, dawdling at the stalls prolonged our presence in the Gutters, which I figured would increase the odds of our being spotted. Gilder had claimed he would find us next time we appeared in town; now we put that claim to the test.

We arrived at the same secluded spot around the corner of a warehouse slightly distant from the main road at which we’d spoken to him previously, and I took the time to look around with more care. I could tell why he’d picked this one; to judge by the weeds choking the path and the dilapidated state of the building in question, it hadn’t seen much use in a while.

“Hey, Biribo,” I said aloud, “are we alone?”

He practically exploded out of Aster’s coat pocket in a furious buzz of wings. “Fuckin’ finally! Yeah, we got privacy, there’s no one within human earshot. And I got a bone to pick with you, boss man!”

“Oh, I’m sure this’ll be just precious.” I took a seat on the edge of the low akorthist retaining wall separating the path from the agricultural field beyond.

“I heard that comment back there about the Hero’s familiar. Some offense taken, pal!”

“Cry me a river.” I took a nibble of skewered meat. Not bad. Too spicy, but that was everything in this damn country so I just needed to get used to it. “Did you see her? He gets an adorable little pixie and I’m stuck with flying vermin? Look at yourself, you little monster. I stand by what I said: unfair.”

“What kind of Dark Lord has a pixie familiar?” Biribo demanded. “How would that look? You’d be a laughingstock!”

“Oh, like you’re any more respectable.”

“You know what I’m concerned about,” Aster commented, “is a tiny woman in the custody of a teenage boy. That poor, poor pixie.”

“What is with this outpouring of sympathy for the Hero’s minions?” Biribo exclaimed. “You guys have got to be the worst conquerors ever to serve the name of Evil!”

“There’s a badge I can wear with pride,” I said. “More importantly, it’s time to work. Keep an eye out and let me know if anyone approaches, especially the kid we’re looking for.”

“Yeah, yeah,” my familiar said impatiently, “will do, but now that I’m finally out of the bag, there’s something you need to know, boss. I do keep an eye out even when we’re in stealth mode, and a little peek now and then was enough to show me the Hero was dressed in wall-to-wall artifacts.”

“He…wait, what?” I narrowed my eyes, lowering my meat skewer. “Yoshi? Two of his little harem were carrying artifacts, but just one each. I didn’t see any on him.”

“Yeah, you probably wouldn’t have. I doubt any Blessed would notice, unless they were Blessed with Wisdom and had a familiar’s eyes to fall back on. That’s what’s weird about it, boss, they were every one of ‘em the weakest artifacts I have ever seen. Tiny little improvements to his stamina, or luck, or agility, stuff like that…the whole lot wouldn’t’ve amounted to any measurable advantage for him. Even though it was a lot, because I wasn’t kidding: everything he was wearing was an artifact.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, “keeping in mind that I am still new to Ephemera, put into context for me exactly how weird that is.”

“Fuckin’ very,” he replied, starting to zip back and forth in the air as if this subject excited him for some reason. “Artifacts are rare, even the weaker ones. And yeah, they ain’t all Greatswords of Mastery or Impregnable Chainmail, but even the basic-ass beginner ones’ll give their wielder something of clear value. Also, it’s extremely uncommon for an artifact to have an even slightly plain design. The aesthetic of magic stuff is universally pretty extra, boss. That dude was wearing a bunch of cobbled-together rubbish that looked like he picked it up from low-rent adventurer supply stalls in the Gutters, except it was all artifacts, except it was without exception artifacts with the weakest, most useless powers imaginable. You seein’ where this trail leads, boss?”

I exhaled sharply, having indeed realized it. “Son of a bitch. He can make artifacts. That’s his isekai cheat power!”

“His, uh, what?” Aster asked, her eyebrows shooting up. I waved her off impatiently.

“And that’s why he can’t produce anything of real value yet—it’s just a week in. If it’s anything like my spell combination, he can’t just pull whatever he imagines out of his butt. There’ll be some limitation to do with the materials he’s working with, and a massive learning curve when it comes to figuring out how to make the magic work. Since apparently the Blessing of Wisdom doesn’t extend to magic sigils,” I added pointedly.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” Biribo protested. “Do I look like somebody who makes the rules? Not my fault the goddesses have the basic sense to keep Heroes and Dark Lords from screwing around with the source code of reality.”

“Source code,” I repeated. “That’s an interesting way to phrase that, Biribo.”

He flicked his little forked tongue out at me. It was really hard to tell, what with his triangular lizard face, but I had the strong feeling he was smirking.

“So,” Aster prompted, “spell combination?”

I gave her a considering look, but really, I only had to consider for a second. I had already entrusted Aster with enough to destroy me if she decided to turn traitor; at this point, being cagey with her would only discourage that trust from running both ways. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“My…unique gift from Virya,” I explained. “I can take the basic spells I learn and combine them into new forms, within certain limits.”

“Certain limits?”

“Mostly having to do with the fact that nobody bothered to explain how it works so I’m fumbling around blind.”

“Point of order, boss: the goddess did try to explain—”

“Shut up, Biribo.”

“Ah.” Aster nodded in comprehension. “I thought those fire slimes were pretty exotic.”

“That’s one word for it. Far as I know, I’m the only person who can make ‘em. Spell combination is also how I made Enjoin, which is the spell that lets you benefit from my Blessings.”

“Heads up,” Biribo interjected before she could render an opinion about that. “We got company heading this way. Looks like it’s your boy, boss.”

“Well, well, I guess the little squirt turned out to be worth the investment after all. Is he alone?”

“Come on, what kinda amateur do you think I am? If he was bringing an ambush I’d’a said that in the first place.”

“All right, no need to pitch a snit over it. You know the drill, Biribo, back in the pocket. I’m not ready to trust the kid with too many details just yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin’,” he grumbled, buzzing back down to Aster’s side and clambering into his pocket. I knew for a fact that she’d made him a comfy nest of cloth scraps and kept feeding him snacks, which was pure luxury since familiars were magical beings and didn’t need to eat. I had made him reveal that tidbit early on.

It was only five minutes or so before Gilder himself suddenly burst out of a large stand of weeds sprouting alongside the building, crowing “AHA!” at the top of his lungs.

Neither of us reacted; I finished chewing my bite of meat and some kind of tart root vegetable before bothering to answer him. “Took you longer than I hoped. Future reference, kiddo, I’d rather you show up punctually than waste my time setting up an ineffective jump scare.”

“Aw, c’mon,” the boy whined, “there’s no way you saw me coming! I’m damn good at sneaking—I even ditched Rassin an’ Kess. They been followin’ me all day, but nobody out-sneaks Gilder!”

“And yet…”

“You got some kinda magic trick for it, right?” He shuffled forward, gazing up at me with bright, eager eyes. “Come on, spill! How’d you do it?”

“More importantly, what if it had worked? Do you think it’s really smart to startle a man who can cast spells and is in town explicitly to kill people and cause chaos?”

His face fell slightly, but he rallied. “Aw, I knew you wouldn’t slip up, Lord Seiji. You’re the most powerful and in-control Blessed in all of Dount!”

“We’ve gotta work on your flattery, son. Points for effort, but that was way too ham-fisted. You’ll just turn off anybody smart enough to see it coming. Here.”

I proffered the remaining skewer; he darted forward with the speed of a striking cobra to snatch it and retreated just as quickly, stuffing an over-large bite in his mouth before answering.

“You sure? I ain’ tol’ya anyfin’ yef.”

“Fuck’s sake, boy, don’t talk with your mouth full. Anyway, no; we’ll discuss payment when you actually bring me something useful. Feeding you’s just a perk of the job. I look after my people, that’s baseline.”

He gave me a look that seemed unsure whether it wanted to be skeptical or hopeful, but it didn’t stop him from from cramming the rest of the meat and vegetables into his mouth at a truly alarming speed. Nor did Aster’s exhortations not to choke himself. Truth be told, I was only partly motivated by the modern Japanese observation that bringing snacks for the staff was sound management practice. I’d been worried about the kid, a sensation exacerbated by guilt that I’d made the choice to leave him at large in his impoverished situation. There was no way he was eating enough, to judge by the size of him. Even if the harsh tactical realities prevented me from taking him in, I could at least see to it he got fed when we met up.

Aster’s advice still lingered in my consciousness. I was going to have to take every opportunity to dispense a little kindness in order to stay sane, given the other kinds of things my role as the Dark Lord would demand of me.

“You about ready to slow down?” I inquired once Gilder was licking the stick. His eyes zeroed in on the other package I picked up, a still-warm pastry folded up inside a broad leaf with ruffled edges. I’d bought two of them from a stand near the meat vendor: sour strawberry tarts, Aster’s favorite, just because she’d dropped the last half of hers in the street when she had to defend me from that trigger-happy elf. She had demolished hers already and I wasn’t in the mood for more sour junk, so this was the last one. I held it out toward the boy.

“Ah, ah!” Then immediately jerked it up out of his reach when he lunged for it, wagging a severe finger in his face. “Slowly. Never mind choking, you have to take time to appreciate the good things in life. If you get a treat, make sure you can taste it. Okay?”

He nodded, eyes practically bulging with avarice, and I finally handed him the tart. He did snatch it like a starving squirrel, but at least he chewed more carefully this time.

I couldn’t help feeling a pang in my chest, watching the street kid enjoying the pastry. His face scrunched up like he almost couldn’t bear the sheer pleasure—when he wasn’t checking over his shoulder every few seconds, at least.

“Let me guess,” Aster said quietly. “Usually if you get a treat, someone takes it from you.”

Gilder emitted a crumb-spraying little huff, a fragment of bitter laugh only partly muffled by a mouthful of strawberry tart. “You know it, lady. Not point complaining, that’s just life. I never got a chance to just…”

He paused, and to my horror I saw tears in the corners of his eyes. Fortunately for us both, Gilder cleared his throat and half-turned away, getting himself back under control while continuing to scarf down the rest of the pastry.

Fuck. I had to think of some better way to take care of this kid. But what? Anything I gave him would just make him a target, unless it was something he could eat right in front of me while my bodyguard and I stood watch. This fucking country… I was starting to see the method in Virya’s madness: Fflyr Dlemathlys was such an utter, appalling mess it was not only vulnerable to even an inexperienced Dark Lord, but urgently needed to be razed to the ground and rebuilt from scratch.

Note to self: recruit somebody who knew the slightest thing about nation-building. I sure as hell didn’t.

“Better?” I asked once Gilder was licking his fingers.

“Thanks, Lord Seiji,” he nodded, beaming up at me. “Best boss ever. Right, Aster?”

“He has his points,” she drawled.

“Stop, I’m gonna blush. All right, now that you’re slightly less starving, what have you got for me?”

“Right! I been feeling out the other kids, careful-like, just like you said. I got one name who I think you should meet, Lord Seiji: my friend Benit. She’s a year younger’n me, so I look out for her. A real quiet one, but she knows how to watch and listen and think. People don’t take her serious enough cos she keeps her mouth shut, but Benit’s sharp. I’ve talked with her—y’know, indirectly, like you said. Not naming names or saying I got an opportunity exactly, but seeing what she might think. I bet she’d be interested. Benit’s clever enough to take a chance and not fuck it up.”

“Good! If you think she’s ready, we’ll set up a meeting. Any others?”

He winced and actually took a step back, causing me another pang at the realization that he automatically associated the delivery of bad news with punishment.

“It’s…it’s tricky, Lord Seiji. I’m sorry, but it’s gonna take me longer to get more faces I can be sure of, y’know?”

“That’s fine,” I assured him, nodding. “That’s good. I did tell you to move with care, remember? We’re building a base, here, not rushing to results. At this stage it’s more important to protect yourself and not take risks.”

“Okay,” he said, so visibly relieved I felt my throat tighten. Just for a second. “Problem is, most of what I got to work with is the younger kids. And you know how it is, little kids are stupid.”

“They are indeed,” I said solemnly.

“I gotta be real selective to pick out the trustworthy ones,” Gilder explained. “Most of the ones older’n me are bigger, and that means they ain’t gonna take me seriously. Which, y’know, I can use that to get away with shit, but it’s a drawback when I want ‘em to do something for me. Plus, once they get, like, more’n a couple years older, most of the Rats start getting groomed by Lady Gray’s people to join her crews, or are looking to get groomed, which means there’s no way in hell they can be trusted. They’ll sell you out to get any scrap of favor from her.”

“Okay. Then keep going, and be as slow as you must to be careful. Results matter, but your survival is more important.”

He grinned hugely, showing crumbs in his teeth. “You got it, Lord Seiji!”

“And what about the rest? Developments in the turf war between Lady Gray and Clan Olumnach?”

“Oh, that shit’s on hard,” he said with all the gleeful relish of a young boy describing violence and bloodshed. Ah, the innocence of youth. “It started pretty slow and it’s still building up, but it’s already at the point Olumnach and Gray’s people don’t meet and both of ‘em walk away.”

“How are the Rats faring in the middle of this?”

“Uncle Gently’s playing it safe for now. He pays his protection to Lady Gray and has us do free jobs for her sometimes, but he doesn’t wanna put the Rats in the middle of this. He’s got us all watching everything both sides does, under strict orders not to sell either out to the other just yet.”

“Mm…that doesn’t sound like it’ll hold for long.”

“Well, not forever, but longer’n you might think, Lord Seiji. Uncle Gently’s no fool and he’s been playing this game a long time. The fact he’s got us hands-off says he doesn’t know how to call it just yet, and that’s bad news for Lady Gray. He’d stick with the established name if he was sure she could guarantee safety for the Rats. She’s too busy keeping her own people’s heads chained to their butts right now, and that right there is a shift in the whole situation.”

Heads chained to their butts? That was a hell of a euphemism for the spinal column. Dear god, the level of violence this kid took for granted…

“In broad terms,” I said, affecting a casual tone, “I understand the main difference between Lady Gray’s people and Clan Olumnach is that she has control over crime in the city, while the Clan basically owns most of the bandit gangs operating in the countryside.” That was the extent of Auldmaer’s knowledge on the subject, which he insisted was just the basics anyone in Dount might have heard from rumor alone. “Any nuance you can add to that?”

“Well, that’s the shape of it, Lord Seiji. Way I hear it, there are some few gangs way out in the khora that don’t answer to Olumnach, but they’re graydisc time wasters, mostly. Apart from that, I hear it gets murky where bandit crews end and the Olumnach Clansguard begins. Sorry, but the fact they are out of town means I don’t get to overhear much about ‘em. That’s probably gonna change, though, with them pressing into the Gutters.”

“Okay. Listen closely when you get the chance, but remember to be safe.”

“You know it!” he grinned. “Anything solid you wanna know?”

“I realize you’re not well-positioned for this, but I’m more interested in the outer gangs than Gray’s people right now. Anything you can learn about the location or composition of other crews around Dount, I want to hear. As for Lady Gray’s crews… By all means, pass along anything that seems particularly interesting. She’s lower on my priority list but I want to have the lay of the land before I move on her in earnest.”

“Got it! Listen, if it’s info on the gangs you want, I do know of a guy. He’s a gobbo, though, and ain’t based in town, so it might be hard to get an in, but I can sniff it out for you.”

“I already know him,” I said with a faint smile. “And believe me, I’ll be following up on that. The issue is, the gangs pay him well to keep their business private.”

“Oh. Damn.” Gilder looked crestfallen, but his good humor reasserted itself quickly. “But you should know, this city-country divide’s the main reason this fight is only gonna get worse before it stops. Like, they got legit cause thanks to you: Lady Gray wants her damn money and Highlord Caldimer’s pissed as hell his kid got knifed, but they both been eyeballing each other’s grift for years now. Now that it’s finally on for real, neither one’s gonna stop till the other’s corebait. Whoever wins controls all crime on Dount. They might even be powerful enough to start making moves on Clan Aelthwyn, then, and everybody knows that’s what both dream about more than anything.”

“Is that a fact,” I murmured. “Well, good. I need time and room to maneuver before I’m ready to move in earnest. It sounds like I don’t want to take too long, though.”

“Longer this goes on, uglier it gets,” he agreed, amazingly cheerful about it. “Course, the uglier it gets, the weaker both sides become.”

“Exactly.” Obviously both were still able to crush the likes of me almost without effort. I just had to build my strength without them noticing my presence while they whittled each other down. Which led me to my next order of business. “All right, Gilder, you’ve got your general marching orders: I want to know anything Uncle Gently knows, and ideally things he doesn’t. Especially pertaining to the outlying gangs and the Olumnachs, but anything of value. More immediately, I’m going to call on your services as a guide to business in the Gutters.”

“Gilder’s your man, Lord Seiji!” he crowed. “What’s it gonna be?”

I gave him my best, most mysterious smile. “Tonight, I want you to show me around the local brothels.”

The boy’s face lit up like I had just invented Christmas.

Aster, by contrast, very slowly turned her head to fix me with one of those oh-so-expressive looks she was so good at.

“There’s no need to make that face at me, Aster,” I said in a tone of indulgent geniality. “Don’t worry, you get to come, too.”

The Aster Look intensified.