The butler's knock pulls Eje from a world of bare blue land and hidden corpses to a warm room with the softest bed her back has ever known. She dresses then assembles the team while he waits stoically in the corridor, forbidden from entering a bedroom. Salaya is sitting on the corner of her bed, where she must have been for some time, staring intently at her hands. Ariel on the other hand doesn't respond to knocks and needs a good shake to rouse.

“Time already?” She tries to turn over and hide her face in her pillow. Eje gives her another shake.

“You have no windows to see how high the sun is. Get up.” They take turns in the washroom splashing water on their sleepy faces from a rivulet running beneath the house. The water mages who set it up to burst up through an opening in the floor more than earned their pay. It's only when they assemble in Eje's room, the nearest to the corridor, that a side door opens and Octave joins them. She somehow looks the same, morning or evening: tall, a little surly, hair loose over her shoulders.

They follow the butler along a hallway now lit by hundreds of tiny openings in the wall. Their indoor lives have become a series of corridors, walks down planned paths. Some echo stonily, others wind to and from unlit staircases. This one at least boasts fresh air and sunlight. All her life, Eje has wondered when she'd be free to create her own trail. All her life she'd been told, and told herself, that it was coming. Even with her parents no longer around, even with Trila laundering clothes in away in Lakeview, she still walks corridors.

“Where were you last night?” asks Salaya to Octave. “You disappeared.”

“Went for a midnight walk.” Salaya opens her mouth to press the matter, but snaps it shut at a stern look from the butler. He leads them to a dining room where the simple wooden tables and chairs are offset by the soaring ceiling and crystal statues of more animals. Another servant, smelling of heat and sweat from the kitchens, brings in stewed goose, fresh bread, and fermented apple tarts.

“I must say I like doing missions for rich families.” says Ariel once they're alone with the food. “I haven't been treated this well in ages.”

“So,” says Salaya unwilling to let the matter rest, “how did you get out to take a walk? The only exit would be through Eje's door and she says she didn't see or hear you leaving.”

Octave takes the largest bite of bread and goose, perhaps that anyone has ever taken, and still has room to sneak out an answer. “I didn't use the door.”

“Octave, I've had my suspicions for some time, and I need an honest answer.” Salaya fixes her with a steely gaze. More of a childlike pout, really. Sternness isn't her strength. “Can you use teleportation?”

Octave swallows then looks around the table. All three of them are waiting for her answer. Something has clicked in Eje's head, and probably Ariel's too. “Can you?”

“Alright, you got me. It makes life in a frigid castle bearable when you can leave at will.”

Octave goes back to her food oblivious to the firestorm she's kindled. Eje, Ariel, and Salaya trade looks. They all know what this means, but nobody wants to be the one to say. Eje decides to go first. “Can you teach me?”

“I don't know.”

“What about me?”

“It's a great deal of work.”

“Come on, Octave, please!” begs Salaya. “Nobody else at the castle knows teleportation, even Dolmion.”

“Ranim Harki does. You can try him.”

Ariel moans. “We don't want to talk to him. Why do all teleportation users act so cagey about it?”

“Yeah, magic should be for everyone, not hoarded by a few.”

“It's dangerous and difficult. We don't want to be responsible for you ripping yourselves in half.” Eje crosses her arms while Salaya looks ready to scream for a riot. Ariel pours herself a glass of cold water, eyes not leaving Octave's face. For a few moments the room sits silent. Then all three of them resume at once. Eje argues. Ariel reasons. Salaya pleads, pushing her chair out as though about to get on her knees. Eje's voice rises, aware of the need to make herself heard over the others, but they catch on to her ploy and raise their own voices until all three are yelling and Octave is staring at them with her mouth hanging open. The one-way argument is only broken when the door opens and the butler ushers in a second group, glaring with dark condemning eyes at the women who would dare to defile his silent manor.

The second group, all men, sit down at the next table, food already laid out. If they heard the ruckus they say nothing about it, but their glances stray more frequently to Eje and her companions than to their plates. Under normal circumstances this curiosity would be matched, but not on this morning. Finally Octave cracks under the accusatory stares. No trio of baby birds could demand food harder from a beleaguered parent. “Fine. When this is over, I'll show you. Nothing more until then, got it?” Eje grumbles and returns to her food, as do the others.

“Show what?” One of the men leans over.

Octave doesn't so much as look up. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“Is it about the mission? What do you think the it'll be about? I'm Tolmin, by the way. We're the third ranking team from Stonewatch.”

Salaya breaks in, her natural eagerness getting the better. “I didn't know they even had mage teams in Stonewatch. Isn't everything peaceful there?”

“Hardly.” He snorts but doesn't elaborate.

Eje may as well take the lead here. “Eje. I suspect it will be some sort of treasure hunt.”

“So a competition? Why would anyone hire mage teams for that?”

“It's not a competition. Or at least not the friendly sort.” Another from the new team looks up from his breakfast. “The only reason this noble would hire multiple teams is if he expects some of us to die.” Ariel and Salaya exchange nervous looks. Eje makes sure not to show emotion in front of potential rivals.

“Or maybe he wants us to work together.” Salaya perks up.

The man shrugs. “Whatever you want to believe. We aren't here to cooperate. We're here for the treasure. It could be worth more than ten stags by itself.” He grins then winces as Tolmin elbows him in the side. Eje looks back at her food, unimpressed. The treasure would have to be staggeringly valuable to risk a black mark on their record, and in that case, Rol Blaketik would have brought in more discerning treasure hunters. Ugh. Eje would rather fight a hundred ogres than admit it, but Irami was right the other day. Eje isn't on top, not anymore. Their team was never on top. Nonetheless, she would yield her complete confidence to Ariel or Salaya, and Octave could be on any team if she were interested. Compared to other teams, what is she missing? There's no sense in speculating, but Eje does anyway. If she were on a team with Brant, or even Irami, how much better would they have performed? They could be on top. Trila would doubtless say that it's better to start on the bottom and work to the top. She's never understood competition. The real question is whether it would have been worth to be assigned a stronger team but with less likeable people.

Eje's thoughts are interrupted. The door opens again and the silent butler leads in a third team. They look somehow familiar. “Annya?” Salaya jumps up to meet them and one of the girls runs over ands throws her arms around her, lifting her off the floor. “Everyone, you remember Annya, right? Ebin too, and Brogan.”

“Your friends from Three Peaks?”

“That's the one.” Annya's smile makes even Salaya look indifferent. She and Ariel nod to each other. “I thought we'd all be working together, a Three Peaks team. Instead it's just me and Ebin and Brogan. Oh, and this is Telemeius. A short, dark eyed man nods to them. “We slept on overnight carriage ride. I wouldn't mind a little more sleep, but this is going to be exciting, isn't it?” With no regard for table decorum, Annya and the rest of Team Eight pull up chairs and they fall upon the repast with a desperate hunger that makes even Octave's eating look benign.

“How much merit are you at?” She tries to be calm, dispassionate.

“What was it? Eighty-seven?”

“Eighty-nine. Because of that bonus for bringing in extra herbs.”

“Wow, we're only in the sixties. You guys are doing amazingly well.” Eje would never admit that either, but Salaya clearly doesn't share her pride.

“How did you get so much?”

“Oh, just doing a mission every time we're free. It adds up, you know.” Eje nods, deciding not to push it and show her insecurity.

As they're finishing, the doors open yet again. They turn to see a single man, tall, broad, with a brooding beard. “Is everyone satisfied?” He waits for no answer. “I am Rol Blaketik, owner of this humble manor. If my butler shushed you, I do apologise. He's an excellent fellow but mute. I don't find myself in need of an excess of language myself, so we're both somewhat used to quiet.” His voice is soft for one so large, soft but deep like a rumble on the horizon. “Mages, you have come answering my call to a mission. I will check your logbooks shortly, fear not. First, here is what I expect of you. My ancestor, Kio Blaketik sealed a rare family artifact deep in the Bulwark mountain behind the manor. He gave instructions that it be opened only when the nation itself stood in peril. Friends, that time has come, and I'm confident all of you understand the circumstances we all find ourselves in. Beset from within, beset from without. The Upper Realms will prevail, however, and we're going to help with that. The vault in the mountain has been rigged – oh, not with traps. Kio preferred puzzles. He was a curious sort. I expect your knowledge of magic will be tested, though I cannot be certain. Nobody has entered the cave since Kio sealed them. If you cannot stand here confident in your magical ability, I suggest you leave now.” Not a body stirs. “There are several passages, which is why I have called several teams.” He looks to each of them. “I hoped for four, but no matter. Three should suffice. Rest assured you will all receive the going rate for compensation even if you are not successful.

“Now, to business.” He crosses his arms and frowns down his beard at them. “I have a simple question, a sort of riddle for you. Think of it as my getting to know you in a hurry. You may not understand now, but it will become apparent in time. I appreciate your patience as you consider the following story. A husband and wife have fallen out of love. They've been married for years, but now can scarcely stand the sight of each other. The wife has taken a new lover. Scandalous to hear it in such a fine house as this, yes, but so our story goes. She and her lover are out one night, walking along a river as the sun sets. They spy a man approaching and recognise him immediately. He is a criminal, a murderer hired by the husband to kill them. They try to run. He follows and they cannot outrun him. They spy a boatman with a humble ferrycraft by the shore and beg him to take them to safety. He demands a gold coin for the passage, and they have not the money. They plead with him, point to the murderer approaching fast, sword drawn. He will not budge, only holds out his hand for the gold coin. The lover panics and runs, leaving the woman behind. The murderer comes for her, and, alas, her heart all but leaps from her mouth. She throws herself into the river and drowns trying to swim across. The lover escapes.” Rol stops and gives them time to digest everything he has said. “Now. Imagine you are the judge hearing this story. The wife is dead and you have four people before you: the husband who hired the murderer, the murderer who chased the couple but did not touch them, the boatman who charged an exorbitant fee in a time of crisis, and the man who abandoned his lover to save himself. What punishments do you mete out to each party? I look forward to hearing your answers.” Rol sits in a far chair, closes his eyes, and stretches his legs.

“This is some sort of test.” Ebin stands. “We'd better discuss it separately.” He leads Team Eight away, Annya waving as she goes into the corner. The mages from Stonewatch must share his opinion, for they've leaned in and are whispering out of earshot. Try as she may to concentrate, Eje's mind keeps wandering back to team performance. If she were on Team Eight instead of, say, Brogan, how would they be doing? Would they still be at eighty-nine, or would they be even higher? Come to think of it, how is merit even calculated? She'll need to look that up.

“What a strange story.” Salaya frowns. “I don't know why he told us this. Is it some sort of ethical quandary?”

“I'll go first.” volunteers Eje. Anything to get her mind off teams and merit. “It's not a difficult case. The husband and the murderer are equally responsible for the wife's death. Execute them both. For his cowardice, the lover must be flogged. Let's say fifty times. The boatman should be freed.”

“The boatman was the worst of the four!” exclaims Salaya. “Even if he didn't try to kill anyone, he could have saved them and refused.”

“But he broke no laws. What would you do to him legally?”

“I don't know. I want to punish him, but law is too complicated for me to understand. He could have been a good person, but he wasn't due to greed. That makes him worse in my mind. What do you think, Ariel?”

“I don't think we can execute anyone when nobody was killed. Hold the murderer. He may yet be tried and beheaded for other crimes. Imprison the husband for hiring a murderer. Imprison the lover for adultery. The boatman should have his boat confiscated. I'm with Salaya on that one.”

“There's no law or precedent for that, I guarantee you.” Eje shakes her head. “What do you think, Octave?”

“It doesn't matter what I think, just as it doesn't matter what you think. The question is, what is Rol's purpose in telling this story, and what is he searching for with his question?”

“Isn't the best way to find that out to just answer him as best we can rather than gambling by tailoring our answers to what we think he'll want?”

“It doesn't have to be what he wants, it's about where he's going to send us. This is about our approach to justice and retribution. It measures how willing we are to punish others, without obviously asking for our willingness to condemn one another.” Octave's voice drops even lower so that they all have to lean in to hear. “Rol said the mission involves solving puzzles and multiple caverns. As that fellow from Stonewatch foolishly let slip, having multiple teams suggests the possibility that some people might die.”

“You mean?”

“The puzzles may involve killing or sacrificing each other. Where we're sent will determine our role.”

Ariel leans back in her chair and looks up at the ceiling. Salaya's gaze falls on the carved door as though wondering if escape is possible. Eje needs to restore order. “That's speculation.”

“True. He could have some other motive. He might merely be a wealthy eccentric. Then again, puzzles in an ancient mountain cave sound like something from a cautionary folktale.”

Eje groans. “What a mess.” The other teams are whispering and nodding away as though all of the same mind. If only she could hear how teams that agree talk to each other she might know what to say next.

Rol calls on them before anyone can make up her mind. “Friends, I hope you are ready. Tell me what your answers are.”

They fall silent as the team from Stonewatch goes first. Tolmin takes the lead. “The husband and lover to be executed by quartering. The lover to be executed by beheading. The boatman to be flogged no fewer than fifty times and his boat confiscated.”

“A stern approach.” Rol nods with a frown.

Team Eight goes next. Ebin takes the lead. “We execute the murderer only. The husband will be flogged one hundred times and exiled from his hometown. The boatman will be fined the sum of a gold coin every week.”

“An ironic punishment for the boatman.” Rol smiles behind his beard. “What of the lover?”

“Set him free, but with a strong warning. The next time he commits adultery, the punishment will be severe.”

“Fascinating how we assign blame and mete punishment, is it not? Now, what of our last team? I wonder if a team of only women will have a different take on justice.”

This is the moment she feared most. Eje considers standing and declaring they will execute all four, just to show they aren't soft. She can't do that, but this is a time to show strength, not weakness. She can already hear Ebin self-righteously explaining how women naturally refrain from severity. She forgets the other problem until Salaya brings it up. “Do we have to answer as a team? We don't have a consensus yet.”

“What now?”

Eje looks around at their uncertain faces, then up to Rol and the other teams, waiting. “Octave, you didn't get involved in our argument. You answer for the team. You know what to say, right?”

“No more so than you.” Octave stands nonetheless and addresses Rol. “We free all four of them.”

Rol says nothing, but his thick eyebrows shoot up. Ebin looks as though he's been punched in the diaphragm. “All four?” demands Tolmin, his voice dipping with indignation. “Why?”

“None have done anything worthy of punishment.”

“Wanting to commit murder? Adultery? Price gouging? Those aren't wrong to you?”

“I don't need judges who punish vices.”

“Well,” says Rol, regaining his composure, “it's an interesting answer for certain!” He fiddles in his pocket for three stones the size of acorns. To Tolmin he gives red. To Ebin he gives blue. To Octave he gives green. “When you arrive, you will see three coloured doors. Take the door that corresponds with your stone; it will be your guide. I wish I could tell you more, but, alas, there's nothing more I know. Best of luck to all of you.”

Octave looks the stone over then drops it on the table. “I'm going to use the toilet. Meet you outside.”

Eje looks the stone over. It's crystal, like mossy quartz. Unlike a gemstone of value yet it gleams with a subdued light. “What sort of answer was that from Octave? It was all wrong. The one woman who answers alongside men, and she comes off as weak.”

Salaya shakes her head. “I don't think it was weak at all. I think it took courage to stand up next to the men and give a contradictory answer. I wonder if it was calculated to help us, or if that was Octave's true opinion though?”

“Probably the latter.” Ariel pockets the stone and stands up to follow the other teams out. “Notice how she said that 'I' don't need judges who punish vices, not 'we'? A bit of a slip there. She spoke from the heart.”

Outside, the rising sun warms their faces. Trees dot the sheer rock face of the Bulwark, eking out sustenance where they can find it. Behind the manor, the butler leads them on a short trail through trimmed trees to the edge of the mountain, then down into the darkness.