For all the memories of Mond that Tay did not have, there was something scarily familiar about Gharhell.

A great part of Tay wanted to attribute that familiarity—the way he suspected he knew how she would carry herself in a walk, or her tone of voice, or even the way she blinked at him—was because he had, at one point, known her brother so well. He wanted to believe that he knew Gharhell because even though his mind had forgotten Mond, his instincts still remembered the owner of the candy shop.

An even greater part of Tay knew that was a lie.

Because it was plainly clear, from the way she nonchalantly regarded him and from how she didn’t say a single word for nearly five minutes, that she liked wasting his time the same way someone else had once wasted Tay’s time.

Madam Principine had never been a woman of brevity. When she had a problem with one of her kids, half of her day was devoted to ensuring that that problem wouldn’t come back again. It didn’t matter what she had to do to drill it into a kid’s head that what they had done had displeased her. Once, she had made Claudus climb into the rafters and clean every chandelier and sconce just because he’d sneezed in her presence.

Claudus had always carried a handkerchief in his back pocket after that. Tay wondered now if Claudus still did.

Tay figured if he sneezed right now, Gharhell wouldn’t be one too happy about it. He also figured he’d much rather clean chandeliers than experience whatever sort of punishment she could bestow.

As he sat in the chair opposite her, his eyes were pulled to the two Chaos cards she kept flicking about each other. She rubbed the corners together but held the cards toward her, so Tay couldn’t make out what cards they were.

The backs of the cards looked the same as all other Runicka cards, which was to say that there was an embezzled eye sigil on the back with a faint blue glow. Those, coupled with Gharhell’s own piercing black eyes, made Tay squirm like he was being studied by a whole crowd instead of just by a single person.

Finally, Gharhell spoke, licking her lips once before getting down to business.

“Do you know how long it’s been since a topside assassin has worked in Duskborough?”

Tay pursed his lips, and then shook his head.

“Of course not. But, I can wager a guess. I’m guessing you think that Duskborough is just riddled with assassins. You’re new here. I know that much, believe me. I bet you have the same opinion of Duskborough as all the other topsiders do, don’t you?

“I bet you think that Duskborough is a haven of crime and disparity. You’ve been here, what, three months now? Let me ask you this, Taygion Ardwella, how much crime have you experienced, aside from the obvious injustice carried upon my brother?”

Tay opened his mouth and then promptly shut it again. Now that he was really thinking about, the only crime that he could think of was what had started this mess to begin with—his stealing of Rantho’s original cards. And he wasn’t just about to admit that to Gharhell.

But from the curl of her smile, he didn’t need to. She already knew.

“There are no guards down here bottomside, Taygion. There is no king. There is no royal house, other than the Polamunds who officially act as a peacekeeping force. You know how effective they are at that already.

“No, there is just me. I am order down here. Folks like you come down here every day. They come and they bring their ill intent and ill will. And it’s my responsibility to set things right, you see.”

Tay could feel some sweat gathering on the nape of his neck. He had a feeling that he already knew what those two Runicka cards were.

“Usually, those people are easy to handle. Easy to put into line. Small demeanors are fine. Stealing coin from an unsuspecting sucker. Running off with a loaf of bread. These are fine in my Duskborough. But you—your meddling—has upset everything.”

“I didn’t know—”

“You didn’t know nothing,” Gharhell said. “You’re the one who kickstarted this all when you stole those cards. We both know this, but I don’t care about that. I could try drawing the line to connect that to my brother’s death, but I won’t.

“Mond was enough of a troublemaker as it was. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Polamunds came down here looking for him. You only brought the inevitable. However, while I can overlook my brother’s death, I can’t overlook Polamund intervention.”

Gharhell dropped the two Runicka cards down, so that their faces stood up for Tay to see. They were the same card.

(5) Mourncrest Pup Unstable As long as you control another Mouncrest revenant, this revenant’s Volatile effect doesn’t trigger. Volatile < 1

“How did you get these?” Tay asked.

Gharhell slid them forward, so that Tay could clearly see the blood splattered upon both of the cards. The shadowlight that plumed off of them brushed against the small stains, as if it was trying to bury itself in the blood.

“How do you think? My men plucked them off of the corpses left in the wake of that carriage.”

“Corpses?” Tay asked. Both of his hands gripped the side of the table. His right hand was throbbing, and the wood, where his bandaged fingers were, began to groan under his pressure. “Sally and Cari—where are they?”

Gharhell cocked her head and glanced down to the table. “I’m not sure sure.”

“You said you have eyes everywhere. How can you not be sure?”

“Do not doubt my words.” Gharhell rose and her body seemed to fill the entire candle shop. Tay sat back down again. He wasn’t sure why he’d sat back down.

He was sure why his left eye was twitching though. That had been where Madam Principine used to strike him. His cheek could still feel the sting of her small palms.

“I do not have eyes anywhere but in Duskborough,” Gharhell said. “Bottomside is mine because nobody knows who it actually belongs to. I guard it the same way that an eagle protects the nest—from the skies, where nobody can see her. I do not journey upon the ground to protect my nest. There is no need to know what happens up there, if it doesn’t concern us.”

“So, they left Duskborough?” Tay asked.

He let himself smile some and relax. If the carriage made it out of the Jar, then Cari and Sally might still be with Amellia. Tay had to hope that was true, it seemed.

“Perhaps,” Gharhell said. “But while they’ve left Duskborough, you remain. Now, I had hoped you’d perished in your little plummet from Peace and Quiet. I do assume your survival is quite the tale. Not everyday does a lad survive a fall all the way down into darkness. But my problem is that you’ve come back.”

“How is that a problem?” Tay asked. “I’m not here to cause any more problems.”

“It’s a problem because, from where I’m sitting, so long as you’re here, the Polamunds are going to keep coming down to get you. You’re like a magnet to them, it seems.”

Tay crossed his arms, and said, “Then it seems to me like you have two options.”

“Oh?” Gharhell raised one of her eyebrows.

Tay nodded. “I don’t aim to remain down here in Duskborough. When the Polamunds attacked us, we were on our way out of Duskborough. Maybe for good. I don’t even intend to remain in this city. I just want to make enough coin to get Cari and Sally in a nice place, and then I’ll go.”

“How noble of you. And so you aim to play a corrupt game to buy them a corrupt house.”

Tay leaned forward. “And what exactly do you call what you do? Is it charity to run a ring of enforcers underground?”

“It is when the alternative is topsiders,” Gharhell replied.

Tay rolled his eyes. “So, then throw me to them. You can either let me go on my way and let me go topside to find my Runicka sponsor, or you can kill me here and now and do Rantho a favor.”

Gharhell stared at him and said nothing. No way she hadn’t considered ending his life before this. If Renald had known enough to bring him up here, then the Gharhell must’ve told him that Tay ought to be dead. And it was an easy way to deal with him.

Instead though, she shook her head. “Is that your name for him? Rantho? No, kid, I’d sooner die than give Ranthomandir a favor. I believe I’ve also misrepresented the solution to the problem I’ve been having.”

Gharhell reached down and produced a long scroll that she laid out on the table. She didn’t unravel it yet, but she kept her stare at Tay.

“Don’t mistake me. My brother was a fool, but there was a time when I cared deeply for him. I have no love for the Polamunds. I also don’t have any desire to keep interest here bottomside. The Ceeke’s certainly don’t care for us down here. It’s better for us all if House Polamund were dealt with.”

Tay could feel his throat go dry. “Dealt with?”

Gharhell brushed her hand over the scroll, and then pulled it open, pinning it down to the table. In the middle of the scroll was the name Ramseth Polamund. It was circle in red ink and then attached to another circle that had Ranthomandir’s name scribbled into it.

Rantho’s circle had at least four other circles connected to his. And those connected outward as well. There were other chunks of scrawling over the document, all written in either black or red ink.

Gharhell put a finger on Ramseth’s name and said, “This is Ranthomandir’s father—Mond’s old Runicka sponsor. He’s a nasty old fellow now, and he’s getting up there in age. He’s the head of the main branch of the Polamunds and responsible for the family’s reputation.

“Like most other noble families that rule over topside and the rest of Aenkora, he spends most of his time either drinking with the king, laughing at surfs, or keeping up-to-date on the latest developments in Runicka. At least, he tries to.”

Gharhell’s finger slid over until it rested upon Rantho’s name. “You see, he’s too reclusive these days to go out to tournaments all the time. He only very rarely ever makes an appearance in public anymore. While he’s still responsible for his family’s reputation,” and Gharhell tapped her finger against Rantho’s name, “it’s his son that’s responsible for his coin.”

Before Gharhell could move her finger, Tay followed one of the lines that led off of Rantho’s name. He recognized the first one he looked at.

Scarole.

All these names connected to Rantho’s were his sponsors. He had at least three other sponsors on top of Scarole.

Tay also noticed that Scarole’s name had a red cross upon it, like Scarole was no longer being paid by Rantho. He cocked one of his eyebrows and then regarded Gharhell.

“While the Polamunds used to make a lot of their money from shipping contracts and ale production, they’ve cut themselves out a lot from those industries. Now, they primarily make their money from organizing events topside. A lot of their wealth comes in the form of setting up and carrying through tournaments.”

“They make their money purely off of Runicka?” Tay asked.

Gharhell nodded. “Essentially, that’s the case. And they do it by way of your friend Rantho here.”

Now Gharhell circled the four names that were attached onto the Polamund scion.

“Not only does Ranthomandir sponsor these four—well, three—runekeepers, he organizes full tournaments around them and smaller events where he can claim the most coin. Everything that House Polamund earns revolves around these five names, including the brat himself.

“Think of them as pillars,” Gharhell said. “And if someone were to start knocking down these pillars…”

“The whole house would come down,” Tay finished.

Just the thought of not only Rantho homeless and stranded on the streets, like he’d made them, or how Mond had been brought low because of Ramseth, made Tay practically giddy with excitement. He would give almost anything to see that man’s spiky hair matted with dirt and grime.

And then there was the matter of Tay’s amulet. If he brought Rantho’s house down, he could actually reclaim his mother’s amulet and start uncover what his connection to Runicka actually was. He needed to know why, above all things that she could’ve left with him, she had chosen to leave a Runicka Talisman.

But just because there was a way to cripple the Polamund’s, theoretically, that didn’t mean it could be done. If House Polamund’s wealth was built off of these sole runekeeprs than Tay had to assume they practically won every time. He’d barely beaten Scarole, and he’d been one of the names.

“Why is Scarole’s name crossed off?” Tay asked.

Gharhell shrugged to that. “He lost. Rantho’s runekeepers don’t lose. He’ll get rid of Scarole before long. And if we wait too long, Rantho’ll replace him with another one. These other names, they’re all going to be harder than Scarole. One’s Iron 3 and the other’s Iron 1. The last is Steel, and I don’t know how many stamps he’s at. Not like it matters. No one ever gets past Steel. The Rantho only ever plays her when he’s desperate.”

“Wait,” Tay said, backing away from the table. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Gharhell put her hands on her hips. “You’re telling me that you don’t want to take down the house that killed my brother? I thought you were close with him?”

Tay saw nothing but a shadow in his mind. He shook his head.

“I was close with him. You weren’t though. You said that yourself.”

“And I have no love for the Polamund’s meddling in my affairs. I don’t think the king will care to replace their jurisdiction here. If I remove them now, while you’ve already done a quarter of the job, then I win.”

Gharhell’s face fell into shadow, but her smile deepened. She said, “Come on. I thought you wanted to buy a house for those two girls that Mond was so fond of? Imagine the mansion that you could put them in if you stole the Polamund’s coin out from between their fingers.”

If Tay hadn’t caught himself, he would’ve drooled right then and there. He did think about Sally and Cari walking through a set of giant doors topside and actually getting to live in the light of the sun again. But he also thought of himself in a massive bed without a care in the world.

That wasn’t even his dream. It had never been his dream. He’d never allowed himself to even think that big before.

But ultimately, above everything else that he thought of, what drove his answer was the shadow that he felt lingering over his shoulder. Even now, it was saying something to him. A voice on the wind.

What are you, Taygion Ardwella?

He wasn’t someone that was going to run away from his problems anymore. He would stand and fight. He would regain what he’d lost. And he’d make up for everything he’d lost.

And that included Mond.

So, he said, leaning forward and over the scroll on the table, “What do we need to do?”

To that, Gharhell chuckled. “I’ll pretend I don’t already know the answer, but tell me, Tay, have you heard of wager duels?”