As if things couldn’t get more complicated for Rogers in his new position as the Captain of the Flats, another klaxon rang out in the distance. “Good gods, that’s coming from the Lower Triangle!” Rogers turned to Maas, his Deputy Captain. “How many fires in the Flats now?”

“Four major ones. Grell House is destroyed, two blocks near the Great River are burning but under control, and—” He nodded to the flames burning a short distance away. “—It doesn’t look good for Ironside estate.”

“How many minor ones?”

“I don’t know. A lot.”

Rogers wiped his face with his sleeve. He was covered in soot, sweat, and burns after doing whatever he could to help battle the fires. He could see the tendrils of the flames from the Ironside estate reaching far into the sky in the distance, lighting the city in a devilish orange glow. Four fires in one night was unprecedented, but more fires than that? And now fires in the Lower Triangle? Rogers knew it wasn’t random.

“Maas, this is important, tell me what you know about the blocks burning near the river.”

Maas shrugged. He, too, was covered in soot. The Thieves did what they could to fight the flames, in their role as secret protectors of the downtrodden of Ness. “Well, the one near the gate destroyed one of our safe houses.” He shrugged. “They both were green, if that matters.”

They were both green. That meant that the blocks were dominated by Harvest Guild members. “This is not good,” Rogers muttered. He turned to Maas. “The fire in the Lower Triangle. Have your fastest thief run there and find out where it burns. Then have him meet me at Ironsides with his report.”

Starting toward the Ironside estate, Rogers yelled back. “Maas, have as many of our men meet me at Ironsides as you can.”

As he strode through the midst of a burning city, Rogers tried to understand what was going on. The fires were all in Harvest Guild homes. The Grell family lived in a mishmash of wooden townhomes that had expanded over the decades as the Grell family grew. They eventually took over nearly an entire block. But, more importantly, the Grell family was one of the most influential Harvest Guild families in Ness, and their crooked estate in the Flats was a landmark. The fire had destroyed everything.

The only family more important in the Flats than the Grells in the Harvest Guild was the Ironside family. They were synonymous with the mines far in the mountains. They had a home inside the mines, where they were known for their brilliance at finding iron ore veins, but their family seat was a large building that looked like it would have been more at home in the Upper Triangle than the Flats.

The Ironsides were wealthy, important, and dominated the Flats. Even the Merchant and Knight guild members who lived in the Flats understood the special role the Ironsides played.

And now their estate was burning to the ground.

He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he knew something was amiss. The fires were clearly set on purpose, and he was certain that the Harvest Guild was a target. There was no other possibility that made sense. But why? He walked up to the Ironside mansion just as a section of wall crashed, throwing sparks into the air. The smell of smoke was overwhelming.

The Ironside family was large, and a number of them were crowded together watching the flames consume their home. Neighbors and friends came up, hugged them, patted them on the back, and did whatever they could to express sympathy. The crowds were thick, but the road was empty as Fire Protectors and wagons were coming and going, fighting a fire that Rogers saw was a lost cause.

Several Thief guild members arrived and stealthily stood by, waiting for the word from their Captain. Rogers just watched. Something isn’t right, he thought. But what?

A few Merchant wagons arrived, and Rogers watched as some Merchant guild guards wrapped Ironside family members in blankets and escorted them to the wagons, presumably to take them to shelter for the night. As they started to pull away, Rogers turned to one of his men and barked, “You, follow that wagon. Let me know where they take them.” A young man sprinted three steps and then melted into the crowd.

The tendrils of flames from the buildings rose high into the air, giving the entire area an unholy glow. The Fire Protectors did a good job containing the fire, but it was too strong for them to do more than watch its hunger at consuming the mansion.

“Did anyone see the fires in the early stages?” Rogers asked.

“I did, sir.” It was a young apprentice. He looked about Ralan’s age, and Rogers had to force himself from frowning. He still could not believe that a child delinquent was his new guildmaster.

“Which fire and how did it spread so fast? Weren’t the Fire Protectors effective?” The Fire Protectors were part of the Knight Guild, and their job was to fight and control fires. They seemed to be doing a good job of the latter but not so much of the former.

“The Fire Protectors arrived too late to stop the flames, sir.”

“Which fire,” Rogers snapped.

“The one near the Four Triangles.”

“More oddness,” Rogers whispered to himself. Any fire near the Four Triangles would have been near both the river, River Road, and the Knight Guild. The Fire Protectors should have been there quickly, if not immediately.

There was a scuffle in the distance, and Rogers watched as two Ironside family members were struggling with two Merchant guardsmen. “Stay here and keep an eye out. Let me know if you see anything strange,” Rogers said, as he moved toward the disturbance.

A crowd was forming, and Rogers could hear a young woman, her voice a mixture of distraught pain and fearful anger. “Unhand me! I will not leave my home!”

Luckily, Rogers’ disguise this night was the blue of the Merchant Guild, so he approached the two guards and said, “What is going on?” with a tone of camaraderie, as if he could perhaps help the guards.

One of them looked up from his hold on the woman’s arm. “Nothing, guildmate. We are to take the poor family to a safe location while the fire is raging.” The man’s tone made it clear that no more questions were welcome.

“Where are their Harvest guildmates?” Rogers looked up and down the street, and that’s when he realized that the access to the area was blocked by Knight Protectors. In fact, as he looked around he realized that the entire area was swarming with knights. Not Fire Protectors, Knights.

“Yes! I am waiting for my guildmates!” the woman screamed, which led to the Merchant Guard giving Rogers a withering stare. A second guard covered her mouth with his hand and roughly dragged her to the wagon.

“She is distraught,” the guard who had been speaking said. “Now go!” He said the command to Rogers, but it was clearly meant for everyone. The crowd dispersed as the last of the Ironside family was led away in a Merchant Guild wagon.

Making his way back to the other thieves, Rogers took stock of the night. Harvest Guild members were being targeted with fires. The Fire Protectors were slow to help. In fact, they apparently didn’t help at all other than make sure nothing else burned. The Merchant Guild was forcibly taking the top Harvest Guild families somewhere, presumably to safety but possibly something more nefarious.

“Okay, everyone.” Rogers looked over his fellow Thieves, all dressed in the white, green, and yellow of the other guilds that they used for cover. “You three, go to the fire near the Four Triangles. Ask around about Merchant wagons and citizens who were displaced. If they are still there, ask them what happened. If they are gone find out where they went.” He turned to another group. “Same for you three, only go to the other fire. And you two, go to Grell House. See if any of the family is there. Ask them about the Fire Protector response. We would expect it to be aggressive for a landmark like Grell House.” They all stared at Rogers. “Something is happening, and we need to find out what.”

As the guild members ran to fulfill their missions, Rogers focused on the alarms coming from the Lower Triangle. He had been captain of the Lower Triangle for a long time, and that was his home. He wondered what was happening there. The Flats was his new assignment, with Maela off on her mission as the Blade of the Guildmaster. He hoped that none of his friends were hurt or lost homes.

An hour later, a young man, breathing heavily, nearly stumbled into Rogers as he approached. Gasping for breath, the young man leaned over, his palms on his knees. “Captain…” Rogers waited patiently. “The Green Belt burns!”

Rogers closed his eyes. The Green Belt was a three-block stretch in the Lower Triangle where Harvest Guild families lived. It didn’t house all the Harvest Guild members, but the most important families lived on one of the blocks, their homes a centerpiece of the Harvest Guild outside of the Harvest District itself.

Rogers looked around at the slowly fading orange glow diffused across the night sky. “Maas!”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t care how you do it, but I want you to find out who set these fires. These were not an accident. I also want a report on where all the displaced families are.”

“Yes, sir. We already have people in the field.”

“Good.” Rogers sighed. Someone was targeting the Harvest Guild, and with the appearance of blue wagons, he had a good idea who. The more important question was why?