Alter could no longer hold back a bemused snort; its sound caused an anxious chuckle to escape the lips of his companions. Betrand himself didn’t react to the involuntary provocation, although his guards could help themselves from taking small, threatening steps towards him.

  “And why should I listen to a word you say?” Alter pushed. “You may maintain your veil of innocence, but it won’t be long before all the misfortunes and agonies you’ve wrought shall be laid squarely at your feet. When that happens, will you still be able to claim your oh so clear superiority?”

  “My good friend, you wound me.” Betrand kept his calm demeanour together well, despite the increasing agitation of those behind him. “But I can understand that you may have some professional reservations about discussing your terms of employment under such strained circumstances.”

  “What makes you think our employment was ever up for discussion to begin with?”

  “Why, of course they are, you’re mercenaries!” Betrand spread his arms out wide in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Loyalty available to the highest bidder, life and death determined by the weight and denomination of the mighty coin. That is true for most of your ilk, but you are something of an exception to the norm.”

  He resumed his pacing, falling quiet for a moment yet managing to leave no opening for any else to respond. Finally, he paused, nodding to himself as he tapped his cane rhythmically against the stone floor.

  “I read your records, you know? It was quite an interesting read, yet almost completely devoid of solid details. The RGS Freeblade company, eight members strong, whose names range from the mundane to the unheard of. Ripped from your homes, you were forced into a world so secretive that you might as well have died for all your loved ones would’ve known. Now look at you, abandoned by your benefactors and forced to roam the world, with nothing but your wits and weapons. Let me tell you something my nephew doesn’t have that I do. Contacts. Influence. If you’d like, I could help you find your homes, and your families. I’ll pull some strings, lean on the right people, and together we can dig up your lost past. I’ll even let you burn it all down, if that’s what you want.”

  Alter blinked several times as his brain caught up with what the man had said. His mouth opened to speak but he couldn’t find any words to say. Seeing this, Bertrand held up a pacifying palm and gently shook his head.

  “No need, good Captain, I know it's a lot to consider. Alas, business must take me away from here for now, but I hope I shall be able to make your acquaintance once more in the near future. Please, think about what I have offered you. I hope we can come to an agreement soon.” He waved his cane in the air jovially before turning towards the entrance, his guards falling into step with him as he disappeared back out into the street. A gauntleted hand reached around and pulled the door closed behind them, and for a moment all was silent and still within the house of He who Gazes Beyond.

  “Oh, thank god. For a moment there I was worried we were about to get into a shootout.” Pavejack sank back onto his haunches and let out a heavy sigh of relief.

  “What the hell did he think we were going to say?” Vangroover asked bitterly. “Surely he didn’t expect us to just change allegiances without a second thought, all because he promised to throw some extra money at us.”

  “No, that wasn’t his objective today.” Alter’s eyes didn’t leave the door as he responded, his brain slowly mulling over what had happened. “That was more like planting a seed, or unlocking a door you don’t intend to walk through yourself. If everything starts going to shit and we come to the decision that we want out, then this conversation will suddenly reappear in our minds, and perhaps we’ll be a little more tempted to take him up on the offer.”

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  “I guess that makes sense. He seems awfully confident for someone who just lost most of his operation. You reckon he’s still got something hidden up his sleeve?” Vangroover stepped over to the nearest row of benches and took a seat.

  “Oh, I’m sure he believes he’s got several things up his sleeve, some of which we already know about and will be dealing with very soon. But even if he has no cards left to play, he’s never going to let on to that fact, is he?” Satisfied that Bertrand wasn’t about to come barging back into the temple, Alter turned to look at his friends and offered them a small smile.

  “Never admit to your opponent that they’re winning and all that?” Pavejack laughed as he levered himself back upright. “I gotta say, I never expected the bullshit we shoved onto the administration forms to be so easily accepted.”

  Alter laughed along with him. “I admit, it was pretty surreal having our false lives read back to us like that. He’s probably already started researching who could’ve been capable of a, making our equipment and b, keeping it hidden for years. How far down the rabbit hole do you think he’ll get before he realises that there’s nothing to find?”

  “Long enough that it keeps him distracted while we close the cage around him, I hope.” Vangroover leaned back, allowing his eyes to rove the ceiling. “There was something very off about him, did anyone else notice?”

  “I noticed he was a rich slimeball, but nothing beyond that.” Pavejack shrugged.

  “Same here. Normally I’d say something about how meeting the enemy and them being nice to you can confuse the brain and cause it to act weirdly. But, given the fact that this is fantasyland, with gods and magic and invisible demon things, I’ll have some more details from you. You never know what might be important.” Alter stroked his beard thoughtfully.

  “Well, I’m not sure how to describe it.” Vangroover pondered. “It was like he was coated in a thin layer of shadow, another version of himself that no one seemed to be aware of. When he looked at you, the eyes were different. He was all greed and ambition, ends justify the means and all that. But the shadow’s eyes, there was evil in them. Cold, calculating malice, I shiver just thinking about them.”

  “Well, I can’t say I noticed anything like that. Did you get any specific feelings from this shadow? Did it home in on anything or anyone?”

  “Not that I noticed, but I did get the feeling that it really didn’t want to be here.”

  Alter felt a small flash of inspiration surge through his mind at the Canadian’s last statement. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, once individual ideas began to knit themselves together. Kalaton had responded with furious rage, but if his ire was only directed at Bertrand then why was the mission objective to secure the succession that he’d given them so open-ended? If this second shadow that smothered him invisibly was not a hallucination, and it wasn’t happy to be within his temple, then perhaps the god’s anger was at that instead. If Kalaton was said to be the beginning of all things, then his direct opposite would be Mullisvar, the end. From what they’d been told before, Those who Wait Below were responsible for a well-hated class of beasts.

  “Right, I think we’ve waited long enough for Betrand and his mob to move along, let’s get going.” Alter ordered as he began walking towards the exit.

  “So quickly? Is everything alright?” Vangroover asked as he hurriedly stood and followed.

  “I’ve got a small theory about the man that I want to talk to Oliver about. I’d like to catch him before he gets too caught up with his fiancée.” Alter continued as he reached the door.

  “And what might that be?” Pavejack asked as they moved out into the evening air.

  “That Lord Betrand may well have an Unrepentant strapped to him, whether knowingly or otherwise, and just think about all the complications that could bring.”