“Kill them?” Martin looked at the Guild Head, taken aback by her statement. “But shouldn’t they be captured?”

The Guild Head shook her head. "If we are correct, then much of the cities ruling hierarchy has been compromised. That leaves us with two options. The first is to just abandon the city. An option that is not viable since that would mean abandoning the entire population here and giving the Dark a foothold into this realm. The other option is to work outside of the city hierarchy. Act on the mandate that the Magisters have to uproot and destroy the creatures of the Dark and their agents wherever they are found, it is our…”

Kilia interrupted, her voice cutting, “There is a third option, you find some other suckers to do your dirty work. Do you seriously think that we are willing to be pawns in your political games? Do you have a writ from the Magister that suspends the Accord between the Nobility and the Magistratum?” She looked at the others, speaking to them, “They want to overthrow the city lord’s. Yes, the Magistratum has the authority to act against the Dark wherever it manifests, but the Accord means that without a writ we are forbidden to act against Nobility. There is a council between the Magister’s and the rulers of the various realms. When action is needed against nobility, they have to review and weigh the evidence. If they are happy the accused are guilty, then they will issue a writ. Only then can action be taken.”

The Guild Head was fuming, her eyes shooting daggers at Kilia. “No, we do not have a writ. Though I would question how one who is not a noble even knows of the Accord.” Her eyes narrowed, “Or did you lie to the Magistratum when you entered the Academy?”

Kilia laughed in the face of her anger, “No, I did not lie, and I am not a noble. Let us just say that recently I have come to be tutored by one that is, and she gave me this information for my own protection. Just as well it seems, or the four of us could have been facing a gibbet if we had done what you wanted.”

Hurnith snarled from where he sat, his own anger now evident at how they had almost been sent to their doom for the political shenanigans of the Guild Head. Gwynneth was getting up, not wanting to hear more, knowing the Guild Head could not be trusted.

“STOP!” The Guild Head stood, leaning over the table, looking at them. “Yes, I went too far. I should never have told you to kill the guilty nobles, just to bring the evidence so we could get a writ. But the danger is still real, and the first step would be to stop the creature that has replaced Djang. There is no danger there, he is not a noble, and acting against him is not against the Accord. You will be well rewarded for your efforts, both in status and in goods.”

Hurnith leaned forward, his face fierce, “Why don’t you tell us what those rewards are. Before I would have acted for the common good, but you have not proven yourself trustworthy nor do I see that I should act to restore a thief to his position, there is nothing honourable about that!”

Djang looked at him, biting his lower lip before speaking. “When I ran the gangs with the urchins, they ate, they had a safe space to sleep and were protected. They stole for me? Yes, that was the payoff, but the amount I took form them was low, even the worst of them could easily meet quota. Now? I am told you saw what happened yesterday. That boy was one of the finest, but the one who has replaced me has set the quotas so high, made the punishments so terrible, that even the best of them struggle and take risks out of fear of not meeting their quota. The number of the urchins in the gangs is half what it was three months ago. Who knows what game that dark spawned monster plays, why he drains the gangs as he does to his long-term detriment? All I know is that unless someone acts against him, every urchin in those gangs will be maimed, or dead. You don’t care for me? Fine! Do it for the orphans!”

Kilia burst out laughing at this speech, she seemed genuinely amused by the way the master thief tried to manipulate them to restore him to power. “You think I believe you are so altruistic you merely want us to remove your rival so you can look after the children? Do we look that naïve?”

The thief turned to her, his eyes blazing. “You know very little of me. I grew up in those gangs. I don’t care what happens to the burglars, whores or any of the others. You don’t want to restore me to power? DON’T! Just kill the one harming the children and make sure that whoever takes his place cares about their lives rather than just their quotas. Just don’t leave a power vacuum for the first petty tyrant coming along to be able to fill and abuse them further!” He stood up, heading for the door, “Kill the dark spawn, kill me, and make sure that the next shadow master in this city at least gives a damn about those under him. Is that a mission more to your liking?” He walked out, not looking back.

“I believe what needs to be said has been said. Think it over and let me know what decision you have made. Or just leave the city and go elsewhere, that would be an answer as well.” The Guild Master spoke, looking at the four, then picking up some papers from her desk not looking at them. The four got up, filing out of the office.

They made their way to the room they had been assigned, quiet until they got there. They sat around the table in the common area, trying to decide what they should do.

“I say we do it.” Martin spoke first, looking at the others. “I do not know politics. I was merely a blacksmith’s apprentice in a small village before coming here. What games happen between nobles was never our concern. Crops, taxes, scandals and when the next levy would be raised to for soldiers for the next war concerned at us. We never even cared what those wars were, nobles fight all the time and peasant levies just go and fight as directed. Win or lose, the peasants lose. We gain nothing but wounds, disfigurement, and death. But suffering children? Those I know. Those harmed by the politics, the wars fought for petty reasons, orphans trying to survive. In the village we took care of them. In the cities or amongst serfs? They end up like the children here!”

Gwynneth looked at Martin, nodding. “In the clans the same applies. We look after our own. Those outside of the clan system, they end up taken by whoever finds them. If they are lucky some religious order takes them in. If not, they end up fodder to some workhouse or running in a gang. f we do it, it is to help the children here. Maybe actually get some of the kids out of the gangs, though surprisingly few of them are interested in leaving.”

Hurnith leaned back, looking at them. “In the Pride lands this does not happen. Everyone has a place, a family, and all are the responsibility of the pack.”

This time it was Kilia who turned to him mocking, “And those who are packless? What happens to those born outside of the packs, those born to those exiled or belonging to packs that have been destroyed? Pretend utopia all you like, others know better!”

The temperature in the room plummeted as the two faced each other, Gwynneth being forced to step in, “ENOUGH! We are here to work together, not to destroy each other! There are many problems across the realms, and we cannot solve them all, especially all the social ones. But here, now, we can do something.”

The two settled down, still glaring at each other, but holding back for the benefit of the group. The discussion wound down, all agreeing to take on the job, for the children. As to whom would take them over, or if Djang would be reinstated, was left undiscussed. No one had a solution for that, yet. Gwynneth left, to inform the Guild head of their decision and to find out where they could find Djang.

A day later they lay in wait, watching an old building near the docks. According to Djang this was where the gang should be based. They watched the doors and the windows all day but saw nothing. They got suspicious looks from passers-by, but none approached them, nor did the city guard make an appearance, this was not an area they frequented.

Towards sunset Kilia disappeared, leaving the others still watching. She had said nothing, just slipping away. Hurnith was the first to notice she was missing, snorting and muttering under his breathe about the unreliability of the followers of Denir. They were startled when she reappeared well after sunset, with them still watching the now darkened building.

“We aren’t going to see anything from here. They don’t use the door.” She looked smug, pointing down. “They use the sewers going in and out. I went looking. I tried to find my way through, but aside from spotting some of their lookouts, I gave up finding my way there since I would just end up alerting them. Oh, and then I took a bath before coming back here. Not every path in the sewers is as dry as it could be.”

Hurnith looked disgusted. “We have wasted a day sitting and looking? What now, do we charge in?”

Kilia shook her head. “Only if you want to find an empty building. Wanna bet they have people watching and the moment we move towards the building it will be emptied, and we will find nothing but those waiting for a fight?”

Martin nodded as she spoke, hearing the common sense in her words. “So, what then, what do we do?”

Kilia smiled. “We find one of them, get him to guide us in.”

***

Cal was in the marketplace, scared to go home and to face Djang. It had been a bad day. After the recent punishment of the thief he was too nervous to take any risks, but in not doing so he had not met quota. He could not just even hand over everything he had taken and pretend it was Djang’s cut since it would still not be enough. Briefly he considered running but knew he would not get far. Djang’s new men, the ones that had joined him just a few months back, kept an eye on them all and would punish an attempt to run even worse than missing quota. He would be lucky to end up as one of the crippled beggars, more likely he would be found as a mangled corpse after they took time scaring the others through them seeing him suffer.

He sat, watching the marketplace, looking at the few merchants still there, like him desperate for the last customer of the day. Most were already giving up, the crowds gone and few willing to shop at night. They looked away, many of them keeping an eye on the loitering urchin. They saw him often begging but none trusted that front, especially as he was still there after sunset. Cal decided to give up, knowing that trying to lift a purse now would mean he would end up as the next with his hand being eaten by the dogs. Dejected, he started to walk away, walking into an alley, and to a sewer grate that would let him travel safely down below.

Kilia watched as the boy shifted the grate and disappeared, following close behind. The others were further behind, she would call them when the time was right. The stink of the sewers was strong, but the boy obviously knew his way through them, and he took a path that kept his feet dry and away from the sludge. She followed silently, keeping him in sight. She knew she had to stop him quickly before he was near any of the lookouts she had spotted earlier. Capturing him in their sight, or even letting the know someone they did not know was in the sewers, would alert the gang and make their job harder.

She sped up, putting all her stealth skills to test, coming up behind the boy. Before he could notice her, she struck out with a sap, hitting the base of his skull, catching him as his body slumped. With no sound, she tied him up, making sure his hands and feet were secure and he would not be able to escape. She lifted him up, draping him over one shoulder, making her way back through the sewers and to where the others were.

Cal woke up, dangling over the shoulder of an unknown woman. His hands and feet were expertly tied, and she was taking him somewhere. He could see the exit from the sewers ahead. It was a relief that he had been captured by someone other than Djang’s men. Even the pain in his head from where he had been hit was bearable and far less than whatever punishment he would have received for missing quota. He was worried, after all he had heard stories of slavers, stealing children to sell into servitude. Illegal, but who cared about missing street children? He would wait. At the moment even moving would give him away, so he would remain mute, play unconscious until he knew what the situation was. He would try to escape when the opportunity presented itself, hopefully once out of the city!

Kilia brought the still unconscious child to the others, laying him down at their feet. Gwynneth gave her a dirty look. “How hard did you hit him? I hope you have not done any serious damage!”

“He will be fine. It was not hard. But who knows how fragile any urchin is? Malnutrition and beatings mean they are often more fragile than they look!”

Gwynneth knelt, putting her hands out, starting to siphon healing mana. From behind her she heard Martin gasp, obviously worried about a repeat of what had happened with Kilia. Without turning around, she quelled his fear. “I managed to get attuned to Healing mana while back home. I am no expert, but I can still do basic healing with no ill effects. Though a wound like Kilia’s would still probably knock me out or result in mana burn.”

Beneath her hands, Cal felt warmth spreading into him, the pain in his head disappearing. He knew he could no longer pretend, and opened his eyes, looking at his captors. Two humans, a man and a woman, a Fae that knelt above him, evidently the source of the healing, and a scary looking Gwathur wolf man. He said nothing, looking at them one at a time. The human woman leaned over him, smiling. He saw no warmth there, but felt cold, worried what was coming next. He had never thought to be in the clutches of Magi, he shivered, surely, he would not be able to escape from them!

Kilia looked over the boy, smiling, “Hello, boy. We need you to give us some information.” She paused, not meaning to be sinister but nevertheless coming across that way, “It would be best if you helped us.”