Two thousand six hundred thirty-one new citizens entered the Republic today under Adarin’s command. A grudging Francesco and several other mages had conjured one of the constitution-inscribed lawstones in the center of the city in its central market square.

  Viola beamed, while Francesco seethed at what Adarin had done. He allowed himself a thin grin. Now I just need to find a sucker who takes a bet that their moods will reverse by the end of the day.

  Adarin was leading the small delegation that had been allowed on land, but as the Guildmaster and senior magisters finished their oath, and the next wave of citizens stepped forward, Adarin studied the woman leading this group fondly. She ran a large tavern and was known as an opposition leader, but without magic the opposition had few options in this city.

  He had, on Rüdiger’s insistence, established a council, and even as the Timberman’s Guild demanded a special position, he had granted it to them. After all, catching big fish requires rich bait.

  Slowly the ceremony finished, and more and more soldiers were allowed into the city. He enjoyed the spontaneous festival, walking about, getting to know this new city. Thousands of settlers would arrive soon, their votes equalized with locals only after a decade. A compromise he had agreed to.

  Well, no matter. We’ll see about that.

  Evening came, and Adarin intensified his coordination of the special orders and the special detachment remaining on the vessels. He whistled softly. It’s been a long time since I organized one of those operations.

  Coming down the main street, he was stopped by the Guildmaster and several other guild magi. They bowed to him.

  “Sir Adarin, as a token of our gratitude and to demonstrate our skill—and for you to remember that you did the right thing by us—”

  Adarin felt a lump growing in his stomach. This is going to be awkward later.

  “We present to you…”

  He held out a box made from night-black and bone-white wood. Adarin had reverted to a spider form for the social occasion and stretched out a manipulator, elongating it. The Guildmaster gave a tight smile and carefully opened the box.

  In it lay a dagger. The voice of the Guildmaster grew hushed.

  “Diamond sapwood. My uncle forged it back when we still had access to the Dragon Mountain groves. We saw how you fight.”

  Adarin judged the weapon—a broad dagger nearly thirty centimeters long. True, its core was made of what looked like ordinary wood, but there was a sheath around it, almost half a centimeter thick, of crystallized substance.

  A quick scan showed carbon in a tetrahedral lattice, refractive index consistent with natural diamond. Trace inclusions suggested reinforcement with aligned carbon nanotubes. The outer layer was not pure diamond—it had been grown under magical pressures until it formed what the enchanters called adamantide, a hybrid between crystalline carbon and magically stabilized mana channels. The result was a translucent gray composite, as stronger than forged steel yet lighter than oak, with the added property of resonating to magical flows.

  I haven’t yet tried fighting with weapons, but this… this might work.

  He raised the blade in his manipulator, swooshing it through the air several times, growing ever faster, weaving it into an increasingly deadly pattern. The enchanters anxiously held their breath, awaiting his judgment.

  He placed the blade against his manipulator, sharpening and absorbing it into his form.

  “We’ll see how this performs in the next fight.”

  He inclined his core.

  “Honored mages, you have my gratitude. I will remember the deed the guild has done us.”

  The enchanters bowed again and left him to his own devices.

  Just as they turned around the corner, Liora reached out to him. ‘I finished talking to Mistress Elanya, the opposition leader. She has agreed and is ready.’

  ‘Good.’

  Adarin walked back on board the Magnolia and rested for several hours. The preparations could advance without him. It would be a good test of the capabilities of the troops. He let himself drift off into a deep meditation.

  The sun hadn’t yet risen and Adarin was already knocking on the third door of a person he was going to arrest. The alley and the entire city were choked with the pollen blooming up from several willows the mariners had planted during the special mission in the harbor. The population had been asleep when they were gassed, and everyone they had taken so far had been mellow and cooperative.

  A sleepy and extremely grumpy-looking Guildmaster Wolfgang Cooper opened the door. He wore a plain nightgown and a sagging nightcap. He frowned, then swayed slightly. It had already taken him two minutes to come down to the door.

  “What is the meaning of this?” He yawned.

  Adarin gestured, and a soldier and a musketeer stepped forward. He was accompanied by City Guard—those loyal to the factions opposed to the Lumberman’s Guild.

  “Guildmaster Magus Wolfgang Cooper. Per Article Eight of the Constitution of the Republic of Bone, you are hereby conscripted into the town’s militia.”

  The man’s eyes widened as he swayed lazily.

  “What constitution?”

  The soldier unrolled a second scroll.

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  “As per our guard commander’s orders, the City of Timberlanding will supply thirty-five mages to the Order’s war effort. As this is an urgent requirement for a vital military mission, the conscription is effective immediately.”

  A trace of anger made it through the sleepiness.

  “I… I don’t understand.”

  Adarin shared a smirk with Liora and gestured the sergeant forward. The man held his halberd at low ready.

  “What is there not to understand, soldier? You have been recruited into the Order. Despite your rank, despite your magical power, you will attain the honorary rank of major only later. First you shall undergo three months of basic training. This training will be conducted on the side of a military deployment due to the urgency of this mission.”

  The man finally woke up, becoming slightly more aware.

  “This is an outrage! The negotiations—”

  Adarin gestured to another officer of the City Guard. The captain spoke in clipped tones.

  “By the seal of the City Guard, I verify that the legal matters are all in order. You voluntarily swore the oath as a citizen of the Republic today and accepted the constitution into your heart.”

  “But I need to be here—the Guild, the Council—”

  Adarin allowed himself a vicious grin.

  “Affairs of state supersede affairs of the cities, lest the Republic fall apart.”

  The man growled. For a brief moment, his hands curled into fists. Then he began tearing at his impressively disorganized beard.

  “You… you tricked us.”

  Adarin shrugged. As with the others, he saw no reason to deny it anymore. That had always been the truth—once a prisoner was in your hands, there was little reason not to be honest about the trap.

  “I did. The special rights of your council are essentially bound to your guild. A guild which we are now recruiting in full.”

  Energy crackled, the smell of ozone rising as the man tried to cast. Yet he wasn’t a combat mage. The five mages with Adarin moved in unison, casting a counterspell on him. He choked and began shivering.

  The sergeant gave a smile that held very little friendliness.

  “Seems like the recruit requires some disciplinary measures. Musketeers, restrain him with the enchanted cuffs.”

  Adarin nodded in self-satisfaction, and the morning continued going well. The mages were distributed onto the warships.

  A small crowd had gathered—some well-wishers, some townsfolk returning to say goodbye to their nightly dalliance. The only person who mattered was the councilwoman Elanya. She was in engaged discussion with Duchess Viola and Francesco, who had just come back leading his own detachment that had arrested more magi.

  Adarin pinged him over the noospheric link. ‘Any issues on your end?’

  ‘No, Adarin,’ returned the young mage. ‘Your maneuver—it was brilliant, I must admit. I bought it myself. The Duchess, however—’

  Adarin came close enough to hear her outrage. ‘What you’re doing, what you’re supporting—this goes against everything we should stand for. This is blatant abuse of the law.’

  Francesco pinged at Adarin again. ‘She’s trying to convince the councilwoman that we are wrong here. It’s borderline treason. But I guess you just twisted her entire negotiation and turned it to your own ends.’

  Adarin approached. Duchess Viola spun on him, her finger spearing out. ‘You. You did this? This mockery of rights and duties!’

  Adarin raised an eyebrow. ‘Mockery? I did precisely as our contract with the city and the Constitution states.’

  He turned to the councilwoman. ‘Honored Councilwoman Elanya. In the absence of Guildmaster Wolfgang Cooper, due to his military service, you are effectively in charge of the city until the council elects a new mayor. Do you see any issues affecting city affairs relating to the matters the Duchess is discussing?’

  A wolfish smile slid over the woman’s lips. ‘No, Sir Adarin. I do in fact see no such issues for the city. I want to thank you again for your garrison and your support. May you have a safe journey and a successful mission.’

  Duchess Viola seemed deaf with another outburst, but Adarin turned to her. ‘On whose side are you, Duchess?’

  ‘I… I…’ She swallowed several times, then stormed off back on board the Magnolia. Halfway up the gangplank, she decided against it and walked over to another ship.

  Adarin oversaw the deployment of the mages. Their only semi-voluntary recruits had been distributed across all five carracks to prevent the plotting of organized groups loyal to each other. He had even taken the time to talk to the councilwoman and sent several spies to get many of the guild members drunk so they would resist less.

  He checked his list and walked from ship to ship. He had split up the guild magi precisely, putting together those who could least stand each other to minimize the chance of collusion or plotting. He whistled a tune as fond memories from his youth came back—preparing a nighttime arrest after a successful public intervention. That was what they called a good day in the Internal Security Directorate.

  As everything was prepared, he returned to the deck of the Magnolia. The wind was blowing in from the Great Lake. The sunbands had begun shining, and fog was rising from the river. Under the cheering of the populace—which may or may not have been arranged by the new councilwoman at Adarin’s suggestion—the flotilla left the harbor, returning to their merchantman companions that lay out in the middle of the Dray River.

  Adarin smiled and waved his manipulator. Mages shot off light shows, and several musketeers let loose a volley of celebratory shots. He noticed Liora next to him. She murmured something, her vision absent.

  “The man. He has red eyes.”

  Adarin frowned and reached out to her, touching her arm. She flinched and nearly jumped overboard. Her breathing grew heavy, her eyes wide—the eyes of a prey animal a predator had been toying with.

  “What? What is going on?” Adarin asked.

  He looked over the city, and for a second there was something. No. Must have been his imagination.

  Liora shook herself.

  “The man in the black cloak. I… I saw his eyes. He… he…”

  Her eyes grew glassy, and for a second Adarin considered pressing deeper. But then his attention shifted, like water running down a hill. The entire affair seemed to grow distant, unimportant.

  Adarin blinked, and Liora was standing again at the railing, observing the city they were leaving behind, to the steady splashing of the undead rowers in the river water.

  “Very well,” Adarin breathed. “That was something.”

  He walked down onto the deck. Let’s see what other adventures we have, and what to make of our newest recruits.

  For a moment he thought he saw a black flicker on the mast, then dismissed it—only brown wood and white sails.