They didn’t all come up to meet Rory and the others. An elf and a dwarf broke off from the main group and started climbing up the hill towards the beginning of the driveway. The rest of the Otherworlders did depart, much as the Homeworlders had done.

“Don’t come any closer,” Viv called out. “State your intention, or we will shoot.”

The elf and the dwarf both paused. There wasn’t much at this distance that Rory could make out their expressions, not when half their whole heads were covered. Like Arelland, this elf had a mask over half his face. Similarly, the dwarf’s head was hooded and large glasses shaded his eyes and half his face.

“I am Stormvir,” the elf said. His voice had a jester-like quality to it, like he was used to making jokes often. “And this is my companion, Guvoric.” He indicated the dwarf next to him, who bowed his head by a fraction. “We do not come in harm, though we do come with a warning.”

“A warning?” Rory asked. “What sort of warning?”

“We know of your double dealings. We do not approve of it.” Every word he said made Rory’s heart quiver harder, and the elf seemed to know it, almost relishing the effect he was having, if the increasingly vicious cadence of his words were anything to go by. “However, all is not lost for you. We will refrain from informing our main group if we can come to a beneficial deal.”

No one spoke for a while. The implications were grave. If Stormvir wasn’t lying, then everything Rory intended to achieve was on the verge of going up in flames.

“How do you know what’s going on?” Rory asked. “I thought you were at war with the Homeworlders, yet here you help them fend off monsters? Whose side are you on?”

“Silly tricks such as that will not work on us,” the dwarf, Guvoric, said. “We know who and what we work for. It is up to you whether you believe in our threat or not. And if you don’t believe us… well, may the clouds lift your souls high when it is your time to go.”

“No one is going anywhere. What deal did you have in mind?”

“It is simple,” Stormvir said. “We’re simply asking you to continue performing the way you have been performing but notifying us of your exact progress and providing your clients with what we provide to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You will supply your customers with what we tell you to supply. At the same time, you will inform us of their requests. Comply with these demands, and we’ll hold your secret dearly. Fail…”

He left the rest unsaid. Rory could imagine what might happen next. But he wasn’t worried. Not anymore. He had been suspecting that there was more to what the elf was saying, and the strange requests had finally solidified the ideas in his head.

“You’re not really affiliated with the actual Otherworlders, are you?” Rory asked.

There was no immediate answer. The others were staring at him as though he had gone mad, and the elf and the dwarf farther downhill had both frozen still. Rory smiled. He had hit the jackpot.

“You are correct,” Guvoric said. “We are not representatives from the Coalition. We—”

“Should we be telling them the truth, Guvoric?” Stormvir asked.

“They already know, it seems. We won’t be revealing anything, just confirming things.”

“Will you, now?” Rory grinned at them. That had been surprisingly easy, but he suspected that the essence of their ploy wasn’t gone just because he had correctly surmised they were a different group from the Otherworlders hell-bent on defeating the Homeworlders. “Tell us then, who are you really. What are you doing here? Why do you help your enemies?”

The elf and the dwarf exchanged glances. Guvoric shrugged. Stormvir’s eyes thinned, then his shoulders fell. They had clearly known each other for a long time.

“We are not with the Otherworlders,” Stormvir finally said. “You are correct in assuming that we are not warring against the Homeworlders. In fact, it wouldn’t be untrue to state that we are in a war against the Otherworlders, in our own way.”

Viv nodded as though her suspicions had just been confirmed. “Rebels. But why? Don’t you like how things are run at Dwell—at Sanctorum?”

“That is none of your concern,” Guvoric said. “The point is that while we may not be in an amicable relationship with those you call Otherworlders, we still hold the key to ruining your relationship with them. Believe us, they have good reason to trust what we tell them.”

That made little sense to Rory. If this group was an enemy of the Otherworlders, how was anything they said at all trustworthy?

“How’s that possible?” Rory asked. “You’re saying the Otherworlder Coalition doesn’t suspect its enemies?”

Guvoric opened his mouth to reply, but then paused. Perhaps he had been thinking to remark that it was none of Rory’s concern. That might have been true, but they needed proof for Rory to take their threat seriously.

“The relationship is more complicated than a simple black-and-white allies or enemies situation you are used to,” Stormvir said. “Why do you think we haven’t been put down yet?”

That was an interesting point of concern. If the Otherworlders saw them as true enemies, they would have wiped them out, or at least taken the same kind of vicious action as they had done against the Homeworlders. That wasn’t the case, however. It could be that the rebels were simply better at hiding or evading danger, but Stormvir’s sharp glance hinted otherwise.

Another mire Rory wasn’t sure how to navigate. He’d known helping the Homeworlders would land him in dire straits, but he hadn’t counted on blackmail like this.

“What do you want, exactly?” Rory asked. “Sabotaging anything the Otherworlders might ask us to do? Information about everything the Otherworlders request?” He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “How do you expect us to provide all that without arousing suspicion? Our main goal is establishing a proper partnership. This isn’t exactly going to help.”

The elf shrugged. “That is for you to figure out. However, rest assured that we will send a delegate every day to check up on you and learn all that we can. For your benefit, we will keep it as… surreptitious as we can, but it will be up to you to arrange the intricacies and details of the meetings.”

“Are we seriously agreeing to this?” Trish asked. Her axeblade gleamed with a deadly light. “Why don’t we just do the Otherworlders a favour and take them out?”

Guvoric laughed, his short beard bristling like it had come alive. “Truly? I would quite enjoy seeing you attempt whatever you think you are capable of.”

Trish tensed, but Viv raised a hand to forestall any violence. “No. We don’t need to start any fights. But I think we need time to think this over, right, Rory?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “We’ll think on this and have an answer for you by tomorrow.”

“Really?” Guvoric crossed his thick arms. “You think you have the luxury to—”

Stormvir cleared his throat. The dwarf shut up.

“We’ll be back around the same time to see what you have to say,” the elf said. “Consider your options carefully, and please try no tricks. We will know if there is anything afoul afoot.”

They didn’t wait for any confirmation or anything of the kind. Both Stormvir and Guvoric turned and left the way they had come.

Once they were sure the rebels had really departed, Rory and the others slowly made their way back to the palace. All of them were lost in thought, worry marring their expressions. Relieved as Rory was to see the Homeworlders on their way, he had to wonder how exactly the rebels could ruin his potential deal with the Otherworlders. Or how credible that claim was.

“We’re not really going to do this, right?” Trish asked. “They sound like goons. It’s extortion. What are they even going to tell the Otherworlders? That we helped a few people who were dying?”

Aprils sighed. “Do we want to take the risk, though? Maybe there’s something we don’t know working behind the scenes.”

“I think there’s a lot working behind the scenes,” Rory muttered. Then he raised his voice. “We don’t have to decide immediately. The day we’ve got is the grace period to find out just how much of a threat the rebels really pose.”

“Exactly,” Viv said. “Now that we’ve got some time, we need to decide just how troublesome they could be, or if we can safely ignore them.”

Rory looked at her. “Arelland.”

She nodded. “Arelland.”

They decided to use the Wraiths. While the others prepared breakfast, Rory gave Ned a walky-talky with a Sigil of Calling Warded in it.

“Call us if anything happens, alright?” Rory pressed the younger man’s shoulder to prove how much he needed to take care. “It’s dangerous out there. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“Right, right.” Ned rolled his eyes, but he did smile. “I’ll be fine, dad.”

He left after they had breakfast. It was plain fare, and with their supplies dwindling, they decided to make a beeline for the grocery stores as soon as they had a better confirmation about how things were outside of their Safe Zone.

Well, they already knew the monsters were far more ferocious now than ever before. The incident of that enormous group attempting to assault the Homeworlders lived in Rory’s head rent-free. If they were going to face similar tides of monsters, then their existence here was a hundred times more dangerous than it had been before the beginning of the war.

Rory tried not to worry too much about the threat the rebels posed. It was vague. He didn’t have to be anxious about anything just yet. It was all easier said than done, though.

Samson helped to take Rory’s mind off the potential problems. He had found all the ingredients for the Sigil of Summoning.

“You went outside the Safe Zone?” Rory asked, incredulous at both his bravery and his stupidity. “You have any idea how dangerous that was?”

Samson held up a hand in surrender. “I didn’t know the monsters would be acting up so much.”

“It’s not just them. The Otherworlders might have found you, might have mistaken you for a Homeworlder they hadn’t taken care of, and then you’d be—” Rory stopped himself from saying “dead”. As upset as he was, there was no point in losing control. “We all just need to be very careful nowadays, alright?”

They had put a stop to activities requiring their presence outside the Safe Zone once the war had started. No more venturing out for salvage, no more scouting around the surrounding areas, and no more looking for more survivors. All necessary tasks, but all coming second to their safety. They had put a pause on it without ever having stated it outright, but maybe Rory needed to solidify it. A clear command to not venture out until they had more information.

“But yeah, I found everything you needed for the Sigil of Summoning,” Samson said, clearly ager to change the subject to something more positive. “These are enough, right?”

Rory looked at the list. 5 Aromatic Phosphors, 17 Arisen Acorns, 12 Puffs of Killing Smoke, 8 Rotten Carp Scales, and 3 Fiery Sparks. The he looked back up at Samson.

“Where did you find some of this stuff?” he asked, a little incredulous. “I can’t even imagine what Aromatic Phosphors are. How did you even carry it?”

“My Sigil of Gathering improved, so it now summons a small pocket dimension whenever I reach a gathering target. Phosphor is like, luminescent stuff. I just got to a traffic marker and used the glowing paint there. You put a deodorant on it and voila.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Samson laughed, then went on to explain how the others were similarly ridiculous. Fish scales, acorns buried in the ground, and an old cigarette made up the rest of the ingredients list. He’d had some trouble with the fiery sparks but striking a metal lamp post with a jagged stone had created the sparks that he had needed to complete his list.

“Unbelievable.” Rory shook his head. “But I’m glad you got it all successfully. Though I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle some of those things.”

That was conundrum. Rory couldn’t exactly hold smoke and sparks in the same place. In the end, they decided Rory would use his Weaving directly into the pocket Samson’s Sigil of Gathering provided.

Said pocket turned out to be a misty hole in the middle of Samson’s palm. Rory stared at it with his mouth falling open a little. The possibilities were endless. If Samson focused on other things, he could basically carry anything he wanted without detection. Something to keep in mind for later.

For now, Rory sent the white lines of his Weaving into the misty hole, imagining the Sigil of Summoning pop out in place of the ingredients Samson had gathered there. He wasn’t sure it was going to work. The lines of light were sinking into the hole, but there didn’t seem to be anything happening for the moment.

But it worked eventually. There was a sudden flash on Samson’s palm, and he quickly pulled his hand away, breaking off Rory’s weaving.

After closing and opening his fist for a while, he displayed what he had found. Rory grinned. The Sigil of Summoning sat pretty in the middle of Samson’s hand where his little interdimensional pocket had been. Ned would be set.