Annette and Sabrina stood side by side, surveying the now open guildhall. The last few days had seen a parade of young sect members and the visiting cultivators carting out the old furniture, and setting up an entirely new storefront. Sabrina had insisted the guild needed a signature flair. Annette had agreed after privately regretting not coming up with the idea herself. So deep greens and gold covered the space. One wall was left mostly empty, with a few notices Annette had pinned to the board, for investigating magical phenomena the papers had mentioned. The center of the room was dominated by a large desk, to be manned on a rotating basis as part of guild dues. Behind the desk were shelves of books, along with jars of ingredients, mana-rich plants, and some basic alchemical solutions a couple of the students were making. Martin had been able to confirm they would at least work a little, and wouldn’t do any harm, though he had admitted he had no head for more advanced alchemy. As though her thoughts had summoned him, Martin burst through the door like he was stepping onto a stage, with Devon following behind. The impression was complete when he actually took a bow.

  “Ladies, rejoice, for we have brought you what is sure to be the centerpiece of our new guild. Truly a treasure to shake the heavens. Unimaginable, indescribable, un-replicatable…”

  “Please just tell us, Martin.” Annette pinched the bridge of her nose. Was it impressive or concerning that this was Laurel’s best friend? And the most powerful man in the country, at least magically.

  “Fine, Devon, our bosom friend –”

  “Lukewarm ally.”

  “Ahem. Thank you Devon. As I was saying, our favorite enchanter has decided to bend his considerable talents to support our worthy goal –”

  “I was out-of-my-mind bored.”

  “And he has crafted a wonder to replace our mundane job board!” Martin was practically shouting to drown out Devon’s asides.

  At the cue, two of their newer students walked in carrying a large object. At first it appeared to be a window pane, but more clear than anything the local glassworks produced. Careful inspection revealed it was actually a thin sheet of mana crystal the students propped up against the wall.

  “Any member can add jobs, along with descriptions of danger and rewards. They can also advertise services they are willing to provide, along with a host of smaller features. Most importantly,…” Martin looked around as though waiting for something.

  A sharp glance at Devon and one master-cultivator-eyeroll later, Devon deigned to pick up the sentence.

  “With a careful application of mana over several months, a smaller crystal will form that can be broken off. Like a succulent plant. That crystal will sync up with the main board. They can be sent to other cities or really anywhere with a Core and keep up to date on guild activities.”

  Annette felt Sabrina go rigid beside her. This was game changing, paradigm-altering, revolutionary. No guild had this. Anyone around the country could accept or post jobs. Most of the larger guilds had branches in more than one major city, but for everything except the largest decisions, they were often forced to act like separate entities. Decisions had to be made with week’s old information. There were noises out of some sectors that rapid transmitting messages would be coming soon, but nothing had hit commercial markets. For a guild whose members lived around the country, and in fact had to in order to bond to different City Cores, this would be an incredible gift. Instead of being divided and easily conquered by the larger guilds, they would have an information network like no one had ever seen.

  “This is extraordinary Devon. Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome Madam. I hope this qualifies as proof of my abilities.” Questioning glances had Devon elaborating. “That is a requirement to join, is it not?”

  “It is, yes.” Annette was hesitant but Sabrina seemed content to let her take the lead on this. “You said you weren’t interested in joining.”

  “I wasn’t. But I’m stuck. Without the Legacy Stone, it will be difficult to start taking on students of my own or setting up my own guild. Frankly, I’m at loose ends until Laurel gets back and this idiot and I can go find it,” He said with a vague wave towards Martin. “Your little experiment is interesting. A network of sects working together and trading from strength to strength is new and it has potential. I’m hardly going to wait around to be left behind.”

  “Okay, now that my thunder has been thoroughly stolen, it’s time for us to head out. We have a date with a war council to get to. Enjoy exploring ladies.”

  The master cultivators departed, along with the students, after mounting the new job board on the wall. Sabrina and Annette were once more alone in the new guildhall and Annette didn’t waste any time. She immediately pushed a small amount of mana into the board. Her stomach roiled and she wrenched her hand back. Deep breaths kept her from losing the breakfast she’d had before arriving. Much, much slower, she tried again. The information overload was easier to handle a second time. The features available were staggering. And her senses told her a more powerful cultivator would be able to do even more. A throat cleared behind her.

  “As fascinating as it is, we have other work to do this morning,” Sabrina said.

  That she was correct didn’t make Annette any less annoyed at the interruption. But she shoved that feeling down. Laurel might let her do whatever she wanted, but as much as it galled her, she was not in fact the head of the guild. Sabrina was in charge, and Annette was here to represent the interest of the sect, and make sure their endeavor didn’t collapse so soon after starting.

  “You’re correct of course. What’s the damage?” Both women sat down and Sabrina brought out an impressive stack of parchment. Annette spotted a few pieces that were so cheap they could only be an insult, though most others looked at least minimally respectful.

  “About half are requests for services. The ads appear to be working. The other half are veiled threats in one form or another from the other guilds. I’m expecting we’ll get visitors in the next few days. And this.” Sabrina handed Annette a piece of quality parchment.

  Thick and soft, it was the best money could buy. Brilliant purple ink in perfect calligraphy covered the page, each line precise, the ink not bleeding or smudging at all. The content was about what they had expected from the palace, but less than she’d hoped for. Especially after Laurel rather spectacularly saved the city only months ago.

  “No disapproval, but no support either. We’re on our own.”

  “That was my interpretation as well. But of course, we magic users do well on our own. Now I’d like to start with the Mercenary Guild …”

  Annette dug into the work with relish. The day wore on as they went back and forth on the best ways to handle any threat, and establish the guild within their six-month timeline. Annette had over a decade of learning how the back-room deals within Meristan society got made while she sat on the sidelines. Now she was able to flex all of that knowledge. She and Sabrina were going to war.

  *********

  War was coming to the city, and instead of doing anything about it, Martin was stuck in another interminable meeting. This was why he was going right back to making Laurel do all of the official business the minute he could. Being part of the meeting group instead of the people actually helping was torture. He leaned over to try and bait Devon into pranking the army officials but the other man swatted him back without looking. The officer droned on and on with ideas to defend the city. Giving credit where credit was due, some of the ideas were actually good. Martin and Devon had agreed to try and set up some terrain control systems and traps. If they were ever freed from sitting here. Other ideas were clearly from people who were only used to fighting other people, and not semi-crazed beasts. They had also missed something obvious which he was going to have to take care of. He was almost looking forward to sneaking into a hostile country with Devon when Laurel got back, just to be free from things like this.

  “None of your plans appear to be taking the harbor or cliffs into account.” Martin had cut off one of the interchangeable soldiers that had been talking all morning.

  “Explain!” Mansfeln barked.

  “Well, the beast wave isn’t directional. The horde isn’t all going to be land based. What options do you have for fighting sea creatures?”

  “Like that thing from last year? I thought you said it was small animals this time.”

  “Yes, I don’t expect another leviathan.”

  “Then what’s the problem? The fish can do what they want and we’ll keep people from going out on ships.”

  “These things won’t be fish. They are coming for the Core and the lack of water won’t stop them.”

  That set off another round of shouting officers. Aides ran in and out of the room in a constant stream. Martin lasted fifteen minutes, and honestly, he was impressed with himself. Another handful of master cultivators and he wouldn’t be forced into these fucking frustrating meetings at all, they would handle it without need for assistance. But they didn’t have that, and he didn’t have time to be messing around with mortal bureaucracy. He stood from where he had been lolling against the wall and put two fingers in his mouth. A piercing whistle rang out across the room, causing Mansfeln and his staff to flinch.

  “We don’t have time for a full education on aquatic combat. Devon and I,” the man in question twitched at being lumped together with Martin but that was fine, “will handle the three quarters of the surroundings that consist of the ocean and river. You all will do everything you can on the land. You can reach out to the guild to contract with some other cultivators to help out with your section.”

  Some whey-faced man in the corner refused to accept sensible ideas when he heard them. “We need to contract with your guild for magical assistance for a magical problem? Hardly patriotic of you.”

  “We aren’t members of your military, if you’ve forgotten. And in fact we could do nothing, sit safe in the sect house and watch the chaos.”

  The man went to respond and Mansfeln stepped in. “That’s enough Johnson! Master Martin, we accept your proposal.”

  Martin took the opportunity to make a quick escape, Devon coming alongside him. They were silent until they had been escorted all the way out of the fort. Not seeing any reason to delay, Martin angled so they were heading towards the port.

  ********

  Annette’s eyes were burning as she looked at the page of notes in front of her. She and Sabrina had worked late the last few days, leaving Annette just enough time to stumble back to the sect house, scarf down some food, sleep for a few hours, and get up before dawn the next morning to do it again. Cultivator stamina was the only thing making it possible, and even that was being slowly overwhelmed by her bone-deep exhaustion. After all, she was running the sect at the same time. Martin was busy doing something with Devon to defend the city. Adam was dealing with the lessons and the library and corralling students. The curmudgeon had found a knack for creating the glow stones and other little trinkets the sect was crafting for sale, and had taken over supervising the others. A yawn and an involuntary stretch interrupted her reading, and Annette realized she had reached the bottom of the page without understanding any of the words.

  “I’m taking a nap in the back, I’m useless right now,” she told Sabrina. The chill between the two women had thawed over the last few days in close contact. Annette reluctantly admitted the woman was both clever and subtle, with more experience than Annette in wrangling difficult personalities and organizations. The older woman was also a stronger cultivator, no worse for wear after the sleepless nights. She laid down on the one remaining bed and was out before any more thoughts could form.

  Sounds of conversation woke her up some undetermined number of hours later. After ensuring she was still presentable, she went out to join the discussion and get back to work. A tall woman in brown leathers with a pistol on one hip and a well-worn dagger on the other, with long black braids down her back, was looming over an unruffled Sabrina. She couldn’t pick up the conversation thread and decided an interruption would be more useful.

  “Hello, what’s going on out here?” she swanned into the room as though she had not a care in the world. Sabrina immediately picked up on her plan, an advantage of the nonstop work they had been doing together recently.

  “Our friend, Mathilde from the Mercenary Guild was stopping by to ask how our guard contracts work and provide some advice.”

  The Mercenary flashed a smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything approaching convivial.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “That’s right. We’ve been guarding merchants or doing retrieval jobs for a long time. Makes for some good advice if you’re looking to get into the game. After all, wouldn’t want you to make a mistake and get your membership revoked. ”

  So their tests from the other guilds were beginning. It was shocking it had taken this long for anyone to make their threats more directly. At least the Mercenary’s were an easy place to start, and Annette knew the part she was to play in their strategies. “I’m glad you’re here then,” Annette said. “We would be interested in hearing how you plan to deal with monsters like the leviathan that come for ships you are guarding? Or identifying magical threats?”

  Mathilde snorted. “Same way we deal with other threats. With gunpowder and good steel.”

  Sabrina jumped back into the conversation. “We all saw how little effect that had last autumn. Why don’t we discuss how to make a system that works to everyone’s advantage.”

  The mercenary pulled up a chair and negotiations got under way. Annette had little she needed to contribute. The Mercenary Guild had been pleased to have their sect as a member originally. The leaders were more practical and less old-fashioned or hung up on their own nobility than some other guilds. They were a bit more willing to change with the times. Magic was becoming a threat they would need to deal with. Mathilde’s terms were not far off what they had been willing to offer, and after some back and forth, a formal agreement was reached. Mercenary Guild members could contract with members of the Magic Guild, with guild cuts of the contracts being determined based on membership numbers and seniority. The opposite was also true, and any cultivators could put jobs to the mercenaries when they needed mortal backup or skills, with compensation determined in each case based on a set of guidelines worked out by the trio of women.

  ********

  Martin flexed his mana and a disk of ice flash froze on top of the water. Devon did something with the flying device he was using and gently landed in the center. They were a few hundred meters offshore, past the breakwaters. Close enough to hear the hubbub of the busy port, but far enough that they weren’t dodging ships. Winter had seen a drop in traffic but as soon as spring scented the air, the merchants were on the prowl. Now on the cusp of summer, it was as busy a port as any he’d seen. He turned to look back at the city. It had been one burden after another since they got here. But the art was good and the food was better, so he would do what he needed to defend it. This was home now.

  “What do you think?” he asked Devon, who was kneeling and looking towards the horizon.

  “A sieve ward. When Laurel gets back you can set up something better, but with what you and I have on hand, and a week and a half to do it, that’s our best option.”

  “That’s the one like a reverse net? Keeps the little ones out and lets some of the big guys through?”

  The other man let out a loud sigh. “There’s no way you didn’t learn about ward types during training in the Eternal Archive. I refuse to believe it.”

  “I learned about it, then forgot because I never had to set them. That was Faren’s job.”

  “Fine. Yes, a sieve ward will keep the low tier beasts from swarming. Since we’re dealing with a horde, that should give you and I enough time to deal with anything stronger that gets through.”

  “What do you need?” Martin asked, cracking his knuckles. It had been a while since he got to really use his cultivation for anything interesting.

  “Pillars, every hundred to hundred and fifty meters, coming out of the seabed. Stone would be best but ice will do if you have to. If you go all the way across the peninsula and make it a ring, the whole thing will be easier to enchant.”

  “If we do the whole perimeter, won’t the enchantments burn out too quickly?”

  “Maybe if you’re half-rate enchanter friends were doing it. I’ll make the part on land looser since we’ll have so many fighters concentrated there. That will let the whole thing last long enough to outlast the wave. We can talk more permanent structures later.”

  If he was going to loop the whole city there was no time to waste. Without saying anything more to Devon, he dove beneath the waves.

  He took a deep breath in and then let it out again. Martin loved being underwater. When he was little he had been constantly drawn to rivers and lakes near the citadel. Later, when he had started cultivating he knew it would be part of his focus. If you can command the earth and the sea, you can go anywhere, do anything, never be trapped or stuck in one area, doing one thing.

  Most didn’t understand the connection between the elements but it had always been obvious to Martin. Water could freeze and stone could melt. Stone could stand against water’s might while water could wear stone into dust. They were the ever-present duality the world was built upon. After a couple of decades of cultivating water aspected mana, he had developed the ability to breathe down in the depths. Most cultivators had some way of dealing with being underwater by the time they became masters, but for most it was a technique or something they used a natural treasure to anchor in their spirit. Martin had simply understood water enough that the ability to filter the air out was entirely subconscious. The sea was a whole world that most never explored. Helene was thinking about a water affinity, from the gossip he’d heard around the sect. Maybe he’d pass something down, though water was too vast a concept for any two cultivators to follow the exact same path.

  Shaking himself out of the reverie, he dove further until he was standing on the muck at the bottom of the harbor. He sent a fervent prayer to the universe that they could get something set up to purify the water around here when they evolved the Core. Even with deep ocean to dilute it, the runoff from the local foundries was having an effect. There weren’t enough plants or small animals close to the city. But that was a problem for the future. There was work to do. He sent his senses deep into the ground. Beneath the layers of mud and silt and into the solid stone below. When his mana had saturated the rock completely, he leaned on his will power and pulled. The earth followed his command as it formed a pillar beneath his feet. Fifteen meters high and rooted in bedrock, it would do. He sped a hundred and fifty meters north and repeated the process. Devon would have some way to get down here to do the engraving, and if they had to loop the city there was no time to wait.

  Martin relaxed into the routine. Deep below the waves, the passing time was unimportant. He broke the surface on the opposite side of the city from the port. Rocks covered the jagged shoreline, which along with the short cliffs meant only a token lookout was watching as he made his way out of the water. He clambered up onto a jagged shard of rock for the next pillar. Instead of calling more stone out of the earth, he commanded the rock to reform. It flowed like the surrounding water until another pillar jutted up, this one exposed to the sky. Martin angled himself towards the shore and pushed off, leaping the hundred or so meters to another rock shard in two bounds. Two stops later he touched down on top of the cliffs. Nowhere near as tall as the portion he had already looped around, they were a mere few meters above the surf. The difference in elevation was high enough for him to see across the wide peninsula. The Fort sat squatly across from his perch, still lit up like midday with lanterns dotting the ramparts, windows glowing with the work within. Good. For all the stuffy man’s frustrating tendencies, Mansfeln was good at his job, and he was taking the threat seriously.

  His eyes drifted further inland, to the threads of his own mana driven deep into the earth. The basis for what he had hoped to be a defensible wall, on the edge of what the Core considered the true city. Another few years and he would have had this city locked up tighter than a fishwife’s purse. But that didn’t matter today. True cultivator-formed walls took time. He might be able to force that much stone to move, but without the rest of the process, it would collapse within a few weeks. Then they would have rubble to sift through if they wanted to start again, not even mentioning the danger of pulling that much rock out of the surrounding area without careful planning. He had no desire to see the sect house in a sink hole because he’d destabilized the foundation. Mana could be transmuted into physical matter but the amount necessary for a wall that size would beggar even a city this big. Nevertheless, the smaller, temporary structures he was making with Devon would be fine. And this bit would be easier, cannibalizing some of his earlier work for the immediate defense.

  He went back to his pillars of stone. The saturation of his own mana made this piece easier, and he barely touched down before the next column erupted, launching him towards the next position. His path took him in a rough arc, around the Flats, looping around Fort Sarken, and back out into the harbor. When he reached the place he started, it was far later than anyone should ever be awake, into the early hours of the following day. He dove back into the depths and found Devon where he was further along the trail. He perched with eyes closed on top of one of the pillars. Mana pulsed out of him and into the stone. Martin observed as the enchantments carved themselves in swirling lines from top to bottom. Once the other man paused, Martin used his control of the water to move himself closer.

  “How’s it going?” Deft mana application and long practice meant Martin could speak and be heard underwater.

  Devon threw some device out to float next to him before he replied. The vibrations emanating from the thing formed words when they got to Martin. “The difficult part is just getting started. I’m glad this isn’t meant to be permanent because I’m embarrassed by the level of work I’m putting out here. But we should be done in time. I’ll need a few days on these and then you can use the core to infuse them all at once.”

  “Should I start now on the ones you finish?”

  Devon took a moment before replying. “Better not, it would mean you’d have to concentrate on it the entire time. You’d be better off helping them prepare their defenses.”

  “Fine, if I must.” Martin started to move away before he called back out. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re a softie.” He dodged the half-hearted mana bolt Devon sent towards him as he made it back to shore. Tomorrow he would help out. But first a shower, a nap, and breakfast.

  *******

  Annette could feel the anxiety ramping up in the city. At the end of the previous week, announcements had been placed in all the major papers, along with actual town criers for the poorer sections of town. The palace was warning them to expect a monster attack. Even knowing what she did about both the threat and the defenses, Annette was terrified. This was her home. She had barely traveled beyond it, and now crazed magic monsters were going to attack.

  It was worse than the leviathan. That had been horrific, but there was no warning. Everything was going along in a normal morning routine, and then Laurel was battling along with the air corps out over the ocean with nothing in between. There was no build up of tension or fear. No hoarding of food and other resources by the wealthy. She could tell the palace was doing its best to stave off panic, but there had been a spate of robberies in the less affluent areas, leading to more policing and more violence.

  Martin might be unconcerned, but she wasn’t yet some immortal master cultivator. She barely felt like a cultivator at all. The thrumming of mana under her skin was always there. And she could use the job board that now dominated the guild office, and the other devices scattered throughout the sect. But that was it. She hadn’t grown like the others after opening her meridians. It was her own fault. Her time was spent running the sect, or helping Sabrina with the guild. She still did the exercises every morning but that was it. There weren’t enough hours in the day.

  Worse, the others had noticed. Or Martin had, at least. He was ferociously observant beneath the flippant exterior. There had been a few pointed questions on if she was still pursuing a space aspect, in the quick moments they had both been back at the sect house at the same time. Which was why she was back in the middle-class section of the city, at the end of a row of well-loved homes, standing in front of a faded green door. It opened and Annette felt tears welling in her eyes.

  “Mama.” That was all she got out before her mother’s arms wrapped around her and held tight.

  “Come inside sweetheart, the tea is already brewing.”

  After taking a moment to tidy herself in the washroom after the embarrassing breakdown, Annette joined her mother in the living room. The worn furniture and decorations were the same as when she was growing up, and she felt them wrap her in the comfort of the familiar.

  “Are you ready to talk?” Annette’s mother was never one to allow avoidance in her presence. Even with gray beginning to color her braids and crows feet framing her eyes, she was still a formidable woman.

  “I’m scared, Mama.”

  “Scared of the attack or something else? I can’t imagine with all your fancy magic that you won’t be safe.”

  “Part of it is the attack. The sect will be safe but what about everyone else? Would you and Papa come stay with us during it?”

  “Anne, sweetheart. How could your father and I abandon our neighbors and run away during a time like this. I know,” she held up a hand to forestall Annette’s protests, “I know you have room, and I know you’d offer our friends room as well. But you know as well as I do that if word got out, you’d have a riot outside your doors.

  “No, your father and I will stay here, and know that all the wonderful things you’ve built will keep us safe.”

  Again, Annette was sobbing in her mother’s arms. She stayed there even after she calmed down, reveling in the feeling of being taken care of. Until her mother decided it was time to dig deeper.

  “I don’t think that’s why you came though.”

  “Of course it’s why I came, Mama. You know how much I worry about you and Papa.”

  “I know dear, I know. But its not the reason you were already crying when you got here.”

  Annette couldn’t maintain eye contact while she confessed. “I’m failing, Mama. I’m trying so hard and I’m still failing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m supposed to be running the sect as Quartermaster, and working with the guild. But I’m also supposed to be becoming a spatial cultivator. Laurel and Martin have tried not to push but I can tell how important it is to them that someone gets that affinity. But I have so much work that I’m barely cultivating. Which means I can’t actually do the work as well. I feel like I’m being torn apart.”

  “Sweetheart, has anyone actually said they think you’re failing?”

  “Well, no,” Annette pouted. She was here for sympathy, not logic.

  “And does anyone expect you to be running the sect and half the guild at the same time?”

  “If I don’t do it then who will? I’m the one with the experience for this. That’s why they hired me in the first place.” She looked down and to the side. Annette couldn’t face her mother’s look if she admitted the reason she had joined the sect was to trade for her father’s healing.

  “I liked Laurel. She’s a woman who has lived a lot of life in her years. Asking for help when you need it shows some deep character, and she didn’t think twice about that. Doesn’t strike me as someone who hasn’t learned the value of balance.”

  “You think that I should give one up? I like them both.”

  “Child, did you hear me say give one up? I said seek balance. Get off your high perfectionist horse, and ask for help. Delegate.”

  Annette shrank in on herself. “But then how will I know it’s done right?” she said in a small voice.

  “Stars above, how did I raise such obstinate children? You will go back to your sect and set them up for defense for the monsters. Then when that unpleasantness is over you will get one of those students of yours to help you and train them so that you have time to cultivate.

  “You’ll start all that right after dinner. I made your favorite and your father and I never see you nowadays.”

  “Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama.”

  “You’re welcome, child. You know you can always come home and we’ll fix you right up.”

  ***********

  Sabrina’s entrance to the office broke Annette out of the brooding she had slipped into the next morning in the guildhall, thinking through her mother’s advice. The older cultivator got straight to work after some muttered pleasantries. The last few days had been a deluge of minor guilds wringing them for concessions. The Fishers and Hunters both demanded that any of their members must also join those guilds if they intended to fight spirit beasts or harvest specific mana-infused plants. The Historical Society and Scholars Guild were still trying to demand unrestricted access to their records. Adam had cackled when she relayed the development, and Sabrina’s polite dismissal of such demands. More had visited with their own offers, that were so absurdly niche Annette had barely even been aware of their existence. Were there really still fletchers around when everyone hunted with rifles? Sabrina defended against them all with impressive tenacity. Each group seemed intent to carve out their own portion of the magic users, until they were whittled to nothing and failed the guild bid. The Coven leader was not letting them get away with it. She argued for equal concessions, twisted language in the guild’s favor, even outright denied a few. Annette was impressed. In the depths of her own heart she could admit they made the right call on their first guild head.

  The ding of the bell interrupted the mountain of paperwork the women were attacking. Annette did a double take when she realized General Mansfeln and Madam Curson had just walked in, each flanked by an assistant. The council members had grave expressions, where the underlings looked nervous, eyes darting to every corner and shelf. Madam Curson gave a cursory look around the room, and Annette got the impression that the woman had cataloged the entire thing, its treasures and its faults, including those of Sabrina and herself. She suppressed a shudder.

  “Ladies. As we are in a state of crisis, I will be direct. As I am sure you are aware, we anticipate a magical attack in the next week. We are looking to contract with any of your members willing to assist in defending the city.”

  Sabrina was as unruffled by this declaration as ever. “Thank you for coming, Madam Curson, it has been a while. I wish we could catch up under happier circumstances. I have here a list of members willing to assist.” She produced a sheet of parchment with carefully penned names. “There is the matter of compensation. Our members, like any mercenaries supporting the army, or merchants donating goods, expect to be compensated. I have included a suggested schema in the documentation.”

  The councilwoman took the sheet and examined it. Mansfeln, reading over her shoulder, exploded. “That amount is absurd! Gouging the treasury in a crisis, this is shameful.”

  A gentle hand went up from Madam Curson to cut Mansfeln off. “While I understand the desire to be paid for services, this is higher than we would give to any mercenary company, as you compare yourselves to.”

  “We are of course willing to hear counteroffers,” Sabrina said. “However, I hope you note the high level of skill our members possess. The barrier to entry is far higher than that of the Mercenary Guild.”

  What followed was a masterclass in negotiations. Sabrina and Madam Curson pulled out every trick and clever argument they could muster. In the end, the guild got the worst of the deal. Perhaps things would be different if they had another half dozen master cultivators to throw at the problem. Or a few dozen adepts with a bevy of external techniques. But they didn’t. There were maybe a dozen members, outside of the sect, close enough to contribute to the defense and willing to do so. The council members left, after their aides had produced and notarized a copy of the contract. Annette used the message board to confirm the transactions as Sabrina brewed another pot of tea for the two of them.

  “That went well,” Annette said.

  “I couldn’t agree more. Tell me, when the sect was looking for press, what journalists did you reach out to?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to make sure there are stories about our virtuous members helping defend the city.”

  “Oh I see. Leverage the contract to gain public legitimacy, and use that to gain political capital and legitimacy in the eyes of the government and other organizations.”

  “Indeed. We’ll owe Curson a fruit basket or something. She went far too easy on us.”

  “That might be Martin’s fault. I think he’s been annoying Mansfeln so much that she was probably trying to balance him out.”

  “Whatever the reason, it worked. Now we just have to survive the onslaught.”