I stare down at the golden cube in my hand, then up at the man who will turn this disaster from a death sentence into a path to power. I swallow and shake my head. “How am I supposed to choose, I don’t know…” anything about magic. The admission sticks in my throat.

  I know the six classes, of course, everyone knows them. I know their colors, the identifying marks. I know to avoid the stiff-collared sorcerers and not to try to steal from black-sleeved enchanters.

  What I do not know is anything that could help me choose between them. They are all so far above me, so foreign to a low ranking thief and part-time courier that he may as well have pointed to High Hill and asked me which of the palaces I’d prefer.

  Being offered any one of them would be overwhelming, but I’d at least know how to say ‘yes.’ Being given a choice is paralyzing.

  I glance up at the hunter, but he bears no identifying marks. Only the book, which is a common enough artifact for any class. He’s probably an elementalist.

  “You have…” he leans forward and stares deep into the cube with its molten card within. “Four days. If you do not decide by then, the card will make its own choice. It will take me at least a day to arrange an appropriate teacher.” He glances around, up and down the alley, before continuing in a softer tone. “You are already marked by this power. You understand that neither of us has any choice here? To leave you alive will cost me dearly, and the longer you choose to run around this city in plain sight the harder it will be to convince them. If you do not want to follow through, tell me.”

  “But…” I swallow again, clear my throat. I’ve never been so terrified in my life, the past hour has been unrelenting panic, even speaking is a struggle. Every instinct in my body wants me to run, now that I’m no longer restrained, but I’ve seen what this man can do. There’s nowhere I can escape fast enough. If he wants me dead, I’m dead. “I don’t want to die.”

  “Then choose a vessel class. I will get you away from the city before anyone can find you.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He points to the cube. “That card is bound to you, whether you use it or not. A gold rank. In the hands of someone outside the Succession. I would be a fool to ignore it.” He glances me over, then looks both ways down the alleys again. “We can’t stay here much longer. That…” he taps the cube, “is going to attract attention sooner than later.”

  “You can’t take it? Hide it somewhere?” I hold it out to him. “I don’t need it. Never wanted it.” If I didn’t have it, if I’d never touched it, all of this would be easier. I could forget about it, go back to scrabbling for existence in peace. The understreets is a chaotic life, unpredictable, but reliable. As long as I did what I was told and stole enough on the side, I’d survive. Stepping into the realm of card-holders and mages is a vast, terrifying unknown.

  “I’m sorry, I cannot,” he answers. “Once it chooses its owner, that decision cannot be changed. The card can be destroyed, the wielder broken, but that card’s ownership can not be transferred.”

  My eyes flick to the book at his side. “How many cards do you have?”

  It’s at least two, maybe three, depending on whether the blade attack and fire attack were different from the one he used to incinerate the two guards with him or if that was the same fire card.

  Even that already makes him the most powerful mage I’ve ever seen. The top enforcers each have one—one is enough to catapult you to the top strata of the organization. Wielding power over others, rather than subject to the whims of those fortunate enough to get their hands on an unbound card. Rumor says the boss has three, but that hasn’t been verified.

  “Seven. One copper. The fire spell you saw. The rest are iron rank.”

  I swallow. Copper. No wonder he was able to instakill them. I may not know how the actual spell classes work, but everyone knows rank dynamics.

  Each level is qualitatively superior to the previous. Dust rank is everyone without any card—me, and everyone I’ve ever known.

  Stone is the enforcers, the boss, the people all but untouchable.

  Iron is a step above them, the city guard, adventurers, warriors and heroes.

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  Copper are even higher. Paladins and knights. Nobility. So far out of reach as to be irrelevant to my life. Until now.

  Who is this man?

  Then there’s bronze. Silver. And…

  My eyes go down to the cube in my hand. I’ve been reacting in panic mode up until now, seen the card as a detrimental thing to be rid of. Something people can and will kill for. So what if they can’t get the actual power out of me, they can do an awful lot of horrible things in the process of trying.

  But having this… once I can initialize it and choose a path…

  I’ll be only a single step below royalty.

  “Mmm, now you see.” He takes my hand in his, cool against my overheated body, and presses it over the cube. “This is an opportunity for us both. Survive. Learn. When you’re ready, find my people and you can repay the favor.”

  “This isn’t a favor. I don’t know what this is, but it’s…”

  “An opportunity. Like I said.”

  I shake my head. “Too much. It’s too much. I can’t decide”

  “Do you have any preferences at all? Anything you like more or less?”

  “I… I don’t think I want to be an Anima. The power is too distant, it’s unreliable.”

  “Summoners are no weaker than any other class for their limitation to a single spirit, but you’re right that there is a level of disconnect between yourself and your power. The precision necessary for proper anima command is a skill that can be learned. Mystics are among the most powerful and influential mages in a group of their peers” He considers me, then shakes his head. “No, I think your instinct is right. That is not the right path for you.”

  “Do you have a suggestion for what might be a good path for me?” I’m proud of the extent to which I manage to keep the desperation out of my voice. “What are the others like?”

  “I do not. And I must go. We have tarried here too long. I will find you in two days. Don’t die. Don’t get yourself captured. Don’t tell anyone what you have.”

  The image of Merien’s face flashes in my mind’s eye. I wonder if he’s thought this through at all, or if he’s just taken his playing pranks a few thousand steps too far this time.

  “I’m sure they will learn it eventually, despite everything we may do to obscure it, but with any luck it won’t be until you’re long gone. If you die, nothing changes. The Enuvai retain their stranglehold. The Succession remains uncontested. My fate remains in their hands, as do those of your friends.”

  I don’t correct him.

  “But if you live…” he continues, “the future is open to possibility. Not today, not this year, but an investment in open potential is worth the price.”

  “You want me to be some kind of rebel?”

  “I do not want you to become anything but whatever pleases you. The only thing I do not want is to see you forced into the same cycle of corruption and excess that holds this kingdom in its grasp.” He flips the pages in his book, each one a single card, and holds out a hand. Wind gathers beneath his feet and he crouches onto the cloud that forms even as it lifts him into the air. “Two days. I must make arrangements, then I will find you. Remember, you must select a vessel by the end of the week, or it will be decided for you. Choose carefully.”

  I nod as he rises into the air. If I were younger, I’d probably have run after him, shouting questions until he was out of sight, but I know better than to make a fuss.

  I shove the cube out of sight within my clothing, then slip deeper into the alley.

  Survive for two days. Tell no one. Should be easy. Probably won’t be.

  Questions and options flood through my thoughts with every step.

  Should I trust him? I don’t know him or anything about him. A copper ranked mage, here! Beholden to the Enuvai but holding private ambitions. What does he want with me? ‘Choose your own path’ yeah right. He’s got to have preferences.

  He was willing to kill the people working under him without a moment’s pause. I’m a potentially valuable asset. How much protection does that provide me, and is there any way of knowing its limits?

  Is there any other option? If I go on my own, run, hide…

  Copper rank. He’ll be able to find me. Unless…

  I glance down at the liquefied card. Shield type, unformed. Is there a way to activate it for myself, instead of relying on him bringing me a teacher?

  There’s a Temple of Stone within an hour of here. I could ask the clerics for information. It might put me in their notice, but it would be the fastest way to get clear and specific answers.

  If I visit the libraries, there might be enough information hidden in stories that I could try to go solo. If I could protect myself without needing to rely on anyone. I’d still owe him for sparing my life, but it might keep me out of his direct influence.

  Or should I take him at his word, hole up in the Refuge, pretend everything is fine? If I deviate from my usual patterns, someone there might suspect something. Not this, surely. No one could imagine this. A few hours ago I’d not have imagined it to be possible.

  That’s the one thing in my favor. This is the kind of thing that would be perpetrated by a foreign country, not a nobody like me.

  But how quickly things spiral out of control. I'm sure I’ll never again call the normal cycle of chaos in the Understreets anything but peaceful.

  Name: Alveros Desanir

  What should I do first?