Raulin was pulled down several streets, the group of young adults laughing and waving at the people watching them. They stopped in front of a restaurant as one young man ran in, then gestured for them to come in. He was swept upstairs to a loft that was unoccupied, the group taking seats at a table, giving him the seat of honor.

Once they had all settled down, they turned to look at him. “This is…unusual,” Raulin said.

Smiles lit up their faces. “We’re so glad to meet you. You’re Raulin Kemor,” one of the young men said. He was wearing a bowler hat that he took off hastily, revealing sandy blond hair clumped slightly by sweat.

“I am. How did you know that?”

“We’re members! Of the organization…we call ourselves the R.A.S., the Royal Arvarikor Society.”

Raulin was sure that his face drained of all blood. “How do you know about Arvarikor?”

Another member, a pixie-ish woman with deep red hair in ringlets, spoke. “We gather as much information as we can about trirecs and compile it. We correspond with other groups, though we’re the largest with twenty members. We know all about Arvarikor and your headquarters in Riyala and Hanala.”

“We follow as many of you as possible,” a severe looking man with black hair and pale skin said. “We have a large wall full of markers and where each of you are, at least the ones we can tail and the ones that take a lot of contracts. We first noticed you when you came here to Gheny three years ago.”

“We got a letter from the Hanala society that you were spotted there about a month ago and you were headed south, so we thought you might be coming here,” said the auburn-haired woman again. “Thank you so much for meeting with us.”

To say that Raulin was unsettled was an understatement. He realized how much he had been slacking as far as covering his tracks went. Arvarikor had found him in Hanala, the Cumber was likely tracking him even though they hadn’t made their presence known to him, and now a group of amateur adults had plucked him from a crowd within an hour of his arrival. This feeling wasn’t even considering how dangerous it was for them to know things about Arvarikor.

“You’re welcome,” he said, “but I don’t think this level of involvement is a good idea…”

“Oh, no!” said the other woman, pretty with the same hair color as his own medium brown in the same ringlet hairstyle as the other woman. “Don’t misunderstand our enthusiasm for interference! We respect your need for privacy very much and will keep our distance as you conduct your business. Part of our charter forbids us from meddling in your contracts. We just wanted to introduce ourselves, since we know you’re the nice one.”

“’The nice one’?”

“The other ones don’t speak to us, or to anyone, really. Definitely not Keta-li; we stay far from her. You, however, are kind. You’ve given food to beggars, you’re friendly, and you’ve donated to temples. We even have an uncorroborated story about you saving a child in Melkyuen by paying for his medicine when his mother couldn’t afford it. If any of the trirecs were going to be safe to approach, it would be you.”

“I suppose that makes sense, then,” he said, leaning back, “but I’m not worried about you mucking up my jobs. I’m worried about someone finding out about this and reporting back to my order. They don’t want people to know our sordid details and they won’t hesitate to kill you to protect that knowledge.”

A few did look worried at that, but the woman with the lighter brown hair was undaunted. “But you won’t, will you?”

They’re as bad as the wizard, Raulin thought. He sighed. “No. I should; my order won’t be happy if I don’t report this and they find out I knew about you, but they didn’t task me with that specifically. Just please be careful about this.”

They relaxed again, enough for the dark-haired man to signal a waiter who took their order. He turned back after the conversation and startled into a smile. “Introductions! I’m Stevrin MaLise, the president. Saesara is the vice president,” he said, gesturing to the woman with medium brown hair, “Rubine is the secretary, and the quiet man at the end is Vetrio, our treasurer. This is Kaliv,” he gestured to the blond man, “and that’s Rubine’s brother, Caskis.”

“Nice to meet you all. Is there something I can help you with?”

“No,” Stevrin said, shrugging and smiling. “We just wanted to welcome you to Acripla.”

“Hmm,” he said. Arvarikor would suggest he leave immediately in this situation and never speak to them again. Of course, if he had obeyed everything his order had trained him in, he’d likely be dead by now. It wouldn’t hurt to chat a little bit with these young folks; perhaps they could help him indirectly. “Tell me, what have I missed in the last three years?”

Taking his question as a sign that he was going to stay, they excitedly began filling him in on the current events of Acripla. They didn’t stray far into things that were inconsequential, like which one of their friends had recently gotten married or what the latest theater was. They delved into the political situations, what the prominent local lords had been doing, what projects were being planned. He was mildly impressed that they understood his needs so well.

The waiter came around with drinks for everyone, placing a mug of dark, grainy liquid in front of him. “Could I have a water?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s not alcohol,” Stevrin said. “We know you can’t drink that. That right there is called ruly grue. It’s a tea from Sharka, very popular.”

“All right,” he said. He clicked off the bottom part of his mask and noticed the group had watched him do so with rapt attention. He sipped on the beverage and didn’t notice any of the telltale signs of a beer or spirit, so he continued to drink. It wasn’t his favorite beverage, since it had a strange floral-saccharine note to it, but it was palatable. “Thank you.”

He sat back as the group tucked into their meals and stared at the parlor near their table. A ceiling fan spun lazily around, the turbine powered by a wall-mounted water feature. It kept the air moving in the stifling atmosphere and he noted none of the gentleman in the restaurant were dabbing their foreheads like he would expect. The chairs and settees were covered in green velvet with ornate arching backs and tufts. There was even a meridienne in the corner, though no lady was resting on it at the moment.

“We didn’t mention the Mantyger!” Kaliv said, slamming his glass down.

“Do you think he needs to know?” Saesara asked.

“It might be helpful. What is it?” Raulin asked, spearing some hot pickles.

“Who,” Kaliv corrected, “and no one honestly knows. Most believe him to be some sorcerer from Taidan Kan or a man driven mad by what he saw in the Viyaz Desert.”

Raulin made a non-committal noise in his throat, wondering where this was leading.

Kaliv downed the rest of his drink and continued. “He’s been influencing things for the last few years, becoming more and more powerful. Some say he has all the banks and politicians in his pocket, as well as a few lords, maybe even the Duke himself. No one would have known about him, except he’s completely rubbed out a few people and started a turf war or two. “

“So Acripla has a shadow boss of some kind. I should be wary about who I talk to and what I unearth, I suspect.”

“That’s the rumor. No one’s ever seen him, but his fingers are in everything.”

“Kaliv, that’s probably not going to help him,” Saesara said, “unless one of his contracts is to find out who the Mantyger is and to kill him.” She sipped on her wine before choking a little. “I don’t mean…I’m not asking what your contracts are!”

Raulin waved his hand nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Haven’t checked my notes yet.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “You just arrived. Do you need a hotel? We could find you one…”

“I’m sure they’ve found one already,” he said.

“’They’?” Stevrin asked. “Who’s ‘they’?”

“Oh, I mean the people I’m guarding. A husband and wife and their ledgerer. They’re here hunting for antiques while I do my jobs on the side. It’s really a great set-up; they need to travel places, but don’t care where or when. I guard them when they have important transactions or merchandise. Otherwise, I’m free to conduct my business on the side.”

“Ah,” he said. “I didn’t think trirecs worked with others.”

“We don’t. This is a rare opportunity, very lucrative.”

“But, you’re rich. Our notes show that you do a lot of contracts, so you must have a lot of money from them.”

“I was shipwrecked back in May.”

The table made a round of sympathetic noises. “That’s tough luck,” Kaliv said. “Were the crew all right?”

“I was the only survivor,” he said.

“That must have been terrible. How did you survive?”

He recounted the tale of how he had hung on to the mizzenmast in the storm only to cling to it for dear life the next day as he drifted at sea, then how Neshihon had found him amongst the flotsam and brought him to Hanala.

“What is the compound like?”

“Looks a lot like Merak. Same architecture, similar trees, just like home.”

“Home? We thought you weren’t from that part of Merak. You’re taller and paler than the others.”

“Well, yes, but…” He stopped. While he felt great need to chat (perhaps he’d always secretly wanted people to fawn over him as a trirec), this was something he didn’t want to talk about at all. He looked outside and saw it was quite dark, the restaurant lit only by candle and lamp. “I need to check in with my charges. Do I owe you anything for dinner and drink?”

There was a chorus of disappointed sounds from the table. “No, it’s on us,” Saesara said, “but please, do come back. We have a meeting next Saturday.”

“If I’m not busy,” he said, standing.

“Of course. We understand. Good luck to you. And if you need our help, don’t hesitate to contact us,” Stevrin said. “Oh! Here’s my card, should you wish to call on me.”

Raulin took it and put it in his pocket. “Thank you. It’s been a lovely evening.”

It was much darker than he expected when he stepped out on the street. It was also raining, which helped cool the flush he had on his face and arms. He began walking to his left, taking a few steps before he realized he had no idea where to go. He had been tugged to the restaurant and hadn’t even glanced back to see where Tel, Al, and Anla had gone.

Hopefully they’d come for him…but he couldn’t stay there. He’d already told the group he had to check in with his charges. He clicked his tongue in thought, then continued to walk slowly.

This section of Acripla, appropriately called Dockside, was by far the best wharf-adjacent neighborhood he’d ever seen in a city. He suspected it had been gentrified. The lamps were all lit and the light reflected off the wet cobblestones. There was so much greenery growing along the porch rails and the walls that he was reminded of several arboretums he’d visited. A few women still walked down the street under parasols, their bare hands on the arm of a man. Some men walked alone, too, their heads covered with bowlers, their faces lined with mustaches that connected to their sideburns.

Raulin kept under the roofs as much as he could, his mind on what the group had told him. He’d been lazy and reckless, a common enough problem for him, but never one he’d known to be such an issue. They had anticipated his arrival to the day. Had anyone else? And what of this shadow boss they’d told him about, the Mantyger?

He picked up movement in his peripheral when he turned to cross the street. Someone was walking towards him with a purpose, dark and obscured, perhaps under a cloak. Damn. Had the Mantyger already sent someone as a precaution?

He darted across the road in front of a covered carriage, spooking the horse enough to cause the driver to pull on the reins and curse him. He apologized without turning his head and walked brusquely to the other side, slipping into the first alley he saw and pressing himself against the wall and next to the corner.

The short man passed by not a minute later, stopping to look for him. Raulin grabbed his cloak and slammed him against the wall, pointing one of his stilettos against his throat.

“What do you want?” he growled.

The man let out a sob of surprise. Raulin pulled the man’s cowl back and saw the now familiar but still breathtaking Anla staring up at him.

He sheathed his knife immediately. “Anla, I am so sorry. I thought you were an assassin after me.” He pulled her head to his chest and hugged her for as long as he felt he could get away with before letting her go.

“And how do you know I’m not?” she asked with a little amusement in her throat.

“Ah, playing the long con. I would’ve thought almost any point in the last eight months would have been a better time to kill me than now.”

“I had to make it sinister-looking, for Al. He’s writing a book, you know.”

Raulin laughed and put his arm around her to lead her out of the alley. “I should have known the wizard put you up to this. Using us for inspiration, hmm?”

“He already has some interesting ideas about you.”

“Like what?”

She turned left, back the way they came, and put her cowl up against the rain. “Oh, plenty of things. He’s burning with curiosity over what you look like.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said you looked, oddly enough, like a man. He wasn’t happy with that answer.”

He laughed again. “So, what is with this whole situation, tailing me?”

“You took off with your new friends. We have rooms not too far from here in a nice hotel. Someone needed to wait for you, so I volunteered.”

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

“Now, what was that about?” she asked, gesturing to the restaurant as they passed it again.

“As I said, Tektornians rather like the macabre part of life. I get treated with some respect around here; people tend to be kinder and will hold conversations with me where they wouldn’t in other parts of the country. That I knew about. What I didn’t know was that I had admirers.

“There is a society of young adults that have a frightening amount of knowledge about Arvarikor, its inner workings, and its trirecs. For instance, they tracked me from when I arrived in Hanala last year and have guesses as to which contracts I completed, at least half of them correct. It’s the kind of devotion I’ve seen to bards or authors, but neither are quite as dangerous to know. What’s really problematic is that they know I’m not like the other Merakians, though not really where I’m from.”

She looked up in surprise. “Oh. That means you can’t infiltrate society because they’ll be looking for a new nobleman who’s visiting.”

“You’re very sharp, you know that? Yes, that is going to be a problem. I’m thinking about sending you or Al in my stead. We’ll have to see.”

“What are your contracts for Acripla?”

He stopped under the next lamp and took out his notebook to read it, then let out a frustrated sigh. “I have to meet a representative for both. At least for the theft I can call upon this gentleman at his work on the weekend as I am. The other wants to play clandestine games, so I’ll have to pay a courier to run a note.”

“Hopefully the latter won’t take long. Hmm,” she said, looking over his shoulder. “I think I understand why you chose your code.”

“I always thought you’d pick up on the Arvonnese thing earlier. I’m glad I made it difficult. Can you imagine if Al knew?”

“You’d never hear the end of it.” She moved away and they continued walking. “What is it like, Arvonne? I know you’ve always been reluctant to talk about it…”

Much to her surprise, he didn’t hesitate to delve into the highlights of the country. From the mountains in the north to the coasts along the south, to the large lakes and rivers, he spoke of them all.

“Favorite place?”

“Home,” he said quickly. “Eri Ranvel. Though I love the Danria Coast and Biashka as well. The perfume I got you smells almost like Biashka.”

“Did you have me in mind when you got it?”

“Yeah, I figured that maybe you’d wear it and that I could smell something from home, at least once.”

She blinked at this, a small smile on her face. “I thought you bought it for me to wear during high-end balls and soirees, things like that.”

“It’s for whenever you’d like. At the time, we were sleeping in the same bed, so I thought it would be a wonderful way to fall asleep.”

Anla’s smile had grown, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

They arrived at the hotel and she sat in the common room, patting on the seat next to her. “You want to talk?” he asked.

“Well, you’re being awfully chatty tonight. I think I’d like to take advantage of that. Tell me about your childhood.”