The bubble was smaller than the Duke’s box, but only barely. There should be plenty of room for an invisible person to get inside without bumping into the other participants in the discussion. Popping the bubble was a remote possibility — I wasn’t sure if [Dispel Image] would work on that spell or not — but doing so would probably alert everyone to my presence.

So going invisible over the wall it was… I just needed to find a place to disappear.

“Keep an eye on the Duke, Cutter. If all goes well, you won’t see anything. So if you do see something, go and get the others.”

Cutter nodded, but he seemed distracted by the fights. It would probably be fine. If they did catch me, it wouldn’t be a subtle thing.

My first problem was to find a place where I could go Invisible without people seeing me disappear. It would have been good to have a spell to cover this — for example, casting [Phantasmal Entity] over my own form, and then casting Invisibility. Unfortunately, Phantasms were solid, so it couldn’t overlap with me.

Even better would have been casting [Phantasmal Entity] and sending it in to do the spying with no risk to me. But [Greater Invisibility] could only be cast on humanoid targets, not on other illusions.

I supposed that I could have cast [Static Image], gone invisible, then moved out of the image and cast [Phantasmal Entity] over the top of that. But that seemed way too complex and prone to failure.

Instead, I moved to a corner of the stands with the least visibility and then focused my attention on one of the other audience members.

He seemed pretty drunk for so early in the evening, but maybe he’d been losing his bets and consoling himself. Whatever the reason, he seemed like a good target.

[Phantom World], I cast silently. He started screaming and slapping himself.

“Bugs! All over me!” he cried. It didn’t take long for everyone to dismiss him as a raving drunk, but I didn’t need long. I cast [Greater Invisibility] and then observed everyone around me while I cancelled my distraction. It seemed to have worked, so I started heading around the arena to the Duke’s box.

The Duke had placed guards to discourage eavesdroppers — or loiterers, I guess was the term, since they wouldn’t be able to hear anything. The straight sides of the box, though, meant that they only felt the need to stand on the corners, confident that they’d be able to see and intercept any intruders.

That did not apply to me. The wall was sturdy enough that it didn’t sway when I leapt to the top of it. Given a running start, and enough headroom, I think I could have cleared the seven-foot wall in a single bound, but I didn’t have either of those conditions. Instead, I leapt up high enough to pull myself the rest of the way over. I was quiet, cat-like and graceful as I reached the top — only to almost screw it all up

Just where I was about to put my hand, there was a lizard. I managed to redirect my grip without losing my balance, but the surprise had me perched on top of the wall, frozen in shock.

It seemed to have noticed something — the wind of my passage, perhaps — because it had also frozen, its head up, looking in all directions with its protruding eyes.

It was camouflaged, but that didn’t matter at this distance. Before I could react at all, it dashed off, running along the top of, and then behind the wall. I leaned over to try and catch sight of it again, but the camo was doing its work. I didn’t think camouflage was supposed to work on moving objects, but perhaps it was magical — or perhaps it had frozen again.

In the time it took me to recover my composure, I resolved to just ignore it — aside from watching more closely where I stepped, in case it was still hanging around. It didn’t seem like a natural encounter, but it wasn’t my problem. Lowering myself carefully down the wall, I took a step forward into the bubble.

I knew it was there, but if I hadn’t, the abrupt cut-off of all sound would have clued me in. After the hubbub of the room, moving into the bubble was like entering a church — even though there was already a conversation going on.

“—cannot compare to the spectacle that an open-air arena brings. These pits… they have no room for magic or monsters.” That was the Ambassador, Oleg Gavril. Despite his complaints, he seemed quite pleased.

“Just steel, muscle and blood,” the Duke replied. “Up close like this, you can smell it. The fear, the pain. Your arenas can only offer sight and sound.”

“They are experiences that are very different,” Gavril agreed. “It seems we must disagree on which one is to be preferred.”

Finley grunted. “If you insist,” he said.

“As delightful as such conversation is, perhaps we should move on to business?”

The Duke grunted again in agreement. “Am I to understand from your presence that Lyrar is ready to proceed?”

“Indeed. The delays imposed by my predecessor have finally exhausted the patience of my superiors.”

“How many troops are you sending?”

Gavril chuckled. “I was certainly not sent with that information. All that is required for you to know is that they will be enough.”

“Don’t be obtuse,” the Duke growled. “My neck is on the line here, I need to know that you’re serious.”

“Is my presence here not enough to convey that?”

“No. I need to know that you have enough troops threatening King’s Isle. If your threat isn’t enough, he won’t commit his forces. I won’t make a move until that happens, and I won’t start preparations until I know that it’s going to happen.”

The ambassador made an exasperated noise. “You have not even begun? But the time it takes—”

“Let me worry about my logistics,” Finley interrupted. “You worry about convincing me of your commitment.”

“These numbers…” Gavril trailed off, clearly hesitant to continue. “This detail. It is the province, not of the diplomatic service, but of the military, yes?”

“I don’t care about your internal divisions,” Finley replied.

“We all serve the Shah, in the end,” Gavril said, making some kind of gesture that I couldn’t see from this angle. “But what this means is that I do not have this number. Nor will the military service be eager to allow it to be sent into enemy territory.”

“Are we not allies?” Finley said softly.

“Of course, of course — I will seek to bring this number to you. But it will take time, and the date we discussed is getting closer. Will you be ready in time?”

“Yes. As long as I have my answer quickly.”

“Then I will take my leave at once, the quicker to get the answer to you.”

“Yes fine, you can go.”

The ambassador got to his feet and quickly started making his way around the arena. Finley watched him for a moment and then spoke to his servant.

“Drop the bubble.”

With a gesture from Archambault, the privacy bubble collapsed and the shouts and screams from the arena returned in full force.

“No more meetings, my Lord?”

“No. I want to savour the next fight coming up.”

That seemed like my cue to leave. I made my way back over the wall — not encountering any wildlife this time, and returned to Cutter’s side.

He was… bargaining with a bookie for better odds.

“Aw c’mon, man, take some pity on a poor kid. I’m willing to let it ride instead of taking my winnings, that’s got to be good for a discount?”

The man seemed unimpressed. “I took pity on you the last bet, and you got lucky. You can quit while you’re ahead, but I’m not doing you any more favours.”

“I got a good eye, is all,” Cutter boasted. “Hey! Watch where—” he shouted, as I tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around but didn’t see anything. It only took him a second to make the connection.

“Hey, I guess I’ll just take my winnings then,” he said, turning back to the bookie. The man snorted but started counting out silver pieces.

That had better have been your own money, I thought as I watched him collect. Once he was done, I gave him a little tug towards the exit.

“Aw, we can’t stay a little longer? The next fight was a sure thing for me!” he complained to the empty air. I rolled my eyes but just gave him a little shove in the right direction. No one seemed to notice him talking to himself — they were all busy either with the fight, or their own intense, quiet conversations.

Once we were outside, I found a quiet place to reappear and resume my shifty male disguise.

“I’m telling you Miss — er, Master, we could be making a killing in there!”

I’m creating monsters here, I thought to myself in dismay. When did Cutter pick up a gambling habit?

Pushing thoughts of my inadequate child-raising aside, I focussed on the main issue at hand.

“No, we’re going back,” I said. We’ll pass the word on to the others so they can come in, and then we’ll all go back to our apartments.”

“But you didn’t even meet with the guy yet,” Cutter protested.

“Yeah, I don’t think I want him knowing that I was in the building on the same night that he discussed treason with that Ambassador.”

“What makes you think I knew anything about it?” The Guild Master asked.

“Don’t play dumb,” I said sourly. “You sent me there last night. You knew who he was meeting with.”

“There was a matching gap in their known schedules,” Voight admitted.

“You knew more than that,” I countered, “Or do you send someone to check out every coincidental matchup?”

Voight gave me a thin smile. “I had a few hints. The Chancellor, you see, has been cooking up a scheme with the Lyrans.”

“I thought that they were plotting with the Duke,” I said.

“They’re playing both sides,” he told me. “Or at least… dealing with both sides. I couldn’t tell you if they mean to keep faith with either side.”

“And you know this because…”

“I’m on the King’s Advisory Council,” he explained. “We were told that the Chancellor was running an operation involving both Duke Finley and the Lyrans, and to ignore — or at least bring to the Chancellor — anything we came across regarding those parties. That way, we can avoid stepping on each other's toes.”

“Aren’t you… stepping on the Chancellor’s toes right now?” I asked.

“Of course not,” he said easily. “By pure coincidence, you overheard the Duke talking treason. You brought this to me, correctly believing that I would be the best person to bring this information to. As a member of the King’s Council, I would be well placed to do something about it — or — allay your fears and tell you that I have the Chancellor’s assurance that there is nothing to worry about.”

He sat back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face.

“I see. So why send me in the first place?”

Voight’s smile grew more predatory. “Well, you see, I don’t trust the motivations of the Chancellor.”

“You think the Chancellor is betraying the country to the Lyrans?”

“The Lyrans are just a tool, and I think they know that. They’re unlikely to take a serious gamble over this scheme, whatever it is. No, the Chancellor is doing what he always does, playing the King against the Nobles for his own benefit.”

“How?”

“Now that you’ve filled in some of the blanks, I can make some educated guesses. It seems that the Lyrans are promising to provide cover for Duke Finley to commit a coup.”

“That’s what he needs to have forces ready for,” I said slowly. “Assuming he was the one behind Anchorbury, he brought in mercenaries and hid them in the town, slowly building up a force.”

“That could be what he’s doing here,” Voight agreed. “The troops stationed here are loyal to the Crown, but the bulk of the King’s estates, and his forces, are based on King’s Isle.”

“Finley’s lands are all around Dorsay,” I realised. “He must have the troops to take the city if he tried.”

Voight nodded. “So my supposition is that the Chancellor is offering some minor concessions to the Lyrans in exchange for convincing the Duke that they’re supporting him.

“But they’re not… so the King will still have his reinforcements.”

“I doubt it will come to actual battle,” Voight mused. “Assuming that this isn’t coming as a surprise, the King should be able to show up with his forces at the last minute, forcing Finley to surrender.

“So what’s wrong with that plan — assuming you’re not Finley, that is.”

“If you’re the Chancellor,” Voight said, emphasising the title, “then the problem is that this sets the Noble cause back immensely. Finley might end up with his line being ended, or large parts of his estate being confiscated. It would topple one of the Four Pillars.”

“Still waiting to hear why this is bad.”

“The Chancellor doesn’t want to upset the status quo,” Voight told me. “There’s no way he wants this scheme to go ahead as planned. It would make a lot more sense if Finley was warned somehow, just in time for him to withdraw his forces without getting caught red-handed.”

“If the Chancellor’s going to cancel his own scheme, why do it in the first place?”

“By planning the scheme, he gains credit with the King, for coming up with a plan that almost succeeded. But he will have saved Finley, who will owe him a huge debt.”

“So nothing actually happens, but the Chancellor looks good from both sides?”

“That’s what I think he’s planning. But it won’t turn out that way.” Voight stared into the middle distance. I could tell his mind was racing. “I want to see Finley dropped in a deep, dark hole. So you’re going to help me make sure that the Chancellor doesn’t get a chance to sabotage his own plan.”