“What!?” Leo stood up out of his chair, almost knocking it back.

  “Insolvent,” Tomasso replied. “As in b-bankrupt.”

  “I know what the word means. What I want to know is HOW? I thought we were making money hand over fist?”

  Tomasso slumped in his chair, some of his anxiety yielding to sheer defeat. He let his head fall into his hands, pressing them into his eyes.

  “We were,” he said softly, voice cracking. "We are. Our revenues are steady, but our operational costs… training, equipment, entertainment… our losses have mounted. Espionage & Intelligence, in particular, has seen soaring costs.”

  “But — but last year we orchestrated a heist on a dragon hoard,” Leo said. “Do you remember that? We intercepted a Vedic treasure ship. We made a mint.”

  “You did. The p-pair of you are among my most profitable adventurers.”

  “Three of us. Don't forget Gianna… the girl’s worth her weight in gold.”

  “Right, the three of you. We have been profitable in some areas, less so in others. And overall…”

  “Overall,” Nico said in a flat tone, “the guild's coffers have run dry.”

  “Even worse. The coffers are dry, and we are in debt, and we cannot even service the interest on the principal of that debt. Our liabilities, have reached a staggering height, and I fear we have no possible way to address it.”

  “What about our assets?” asked Leo, gesturing around him. “The dojo, our weapons and armor, the deed to the Guildhouse? Our sail ship — the Arrow?”

  “Surrendered as collateral, many moons ago. The bank owns it now, all of it. Down to the last splinter in the floorboards.”

  “How — I don't — do you…” Leo fumbled for words, speechless, a hand raking through his gold hair. “How does this even happen?”

  Tomasso, for the first time Nico had ever seen, looked terrified of Leo. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

  “It's complicated,” he said. “Running a guild, especially one like Pathfinders, is no small feat. There’s m-much you don’t understand about the b-business side of the g-guild.”

  “You seem quite ignorant yourself.”

  Tomasso searched for words but found none. The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment no one spoke. Tears welled in Tomasso’s eyes, and for all anxiety and uncertainty he had unleashed with this pronouncement, Nico’s first emotion was pity. Pity for this man who, despite his faults, had always been a kind, caring, and generous Guildmaster. Had been like a father to Nico and Leo, not to mention the other adventurers in the guild.

  Leo, belatedly, came to the same conclusion. He hung his head in shame, shaking it.

  “I shouldn't have said that — I apologize.”

  “It's okay,” Tomasso said. “You're right — I have failed. Both you and the guild. All of us.”

  “So…," Nico said, "what happens next?”

  “We persevere,” Tomasso said, his voice regaining some of its authority.” We keep our head above water, and we pray that our creditor doesn't come calling.”

  “And who, pray tell, is our creditor?”

  Tomasso licked his lips. “Vespers,” he said. “Vespers bank.”

  “Duke Ferdinand II’s bank. Meaning that if we default on the debt…”

  “If I default on the debt, then I’ll f-face the Duke’s w-wrath. The debt is entirely in my name.”

  “You’ll be guillotined,” said Leo, dumbstruck.

  It was a statement, not a question. The Duke was not a man to be crossed. He was a volatile madman with a penchant for wanton violence. A megalomaniacal tyrant. He had executed greater men for lesser crimes, and it was hard to imagine he might overlook a substantial debt being defaulted.

  “He sent a letter earlier today. A s-summons — presumably to discuss the debt. At least, I b-believe it’s a summons. I haven’t yet had the nerve to open it.”

  “So we flee,” Leo said. “We help you abscond across the Jewel Sea, somewhere the Duke cannot find you. Somewhere beyond his reach.”

  Tomasso shook his head sadly. “The Paladisian Empire is vast and the Duke’s reach is long. Ferdinand is nothing if not vindictive and persistent. No one can hide from him.”

  “We’ll settle you somewhere distant and remote. Veda or… I don’t know… Parthia. Someplace tropical and idyllic.”

  “And what then? Do you think that the Duke will happily write off his losses? No. He would try to collect payment from the guild itself, from its members. Your own lives would be in jeopardy. Fleeing is not an option. The entire guild, every member and his family, would need to uproot their lives and flee with me across the Jewel Sea without arousing the suspicion of the Duke nor the Choir of Shadows. No, Leo, it will not work. At least this way, if I stay in Verona and face the consequences, I might be able to shield the guild. You see, the Duke is not actually inconvenienced by the losses I have accrued. My losses against his wealth are a mere drop in the ocean. But he will not abide me or anyone else fleeing his wrath. For that I will be made an example of.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “I'll take the job,” Nico said in a level tone.

  “It's alright, Nico. You don't have to,” Tomasso said. “You’ve made your decision.”

  “And now I’ve unmade it. I’ll take the job. How much is Cosimo offering? Is it enough to pay off our debts?”

  “Most of it. Not quite all of it. A few of our minor accounts would still be in arrears, and Vespers would hold the deed to the Guildhouse, but we’d be otherwise on firm footing.” He paused, somewhat dramatically, before continuing. “He is offering five golden talents.”

  Leo and Nico exchanged incredulous looks.

  “Do mine ears deceive me?” Leo said. “Five talents!?” It was a staggering amount, enough to buy a small island. The entire fortunes of respected nobles and famous merchants often measured less than a single talent.

  “And that’s just if we find this, this… Index in the Library of Azkaya. If we help him solve Ilhen’s Seventh, he is offering another ten. That's fifteen golden talents in all; our debt would be settled. Even our collateral would be remitted back to our custody.”

  Leo ran a hand through his thick golden hair. “Fifteen talents? That’s… he must be as rich as the Duke! It’s almost too good to be true. It is too good to be true. Are we certain we’re not being bamboozled?”

  “That was my first thought too. But no, it doesn’t appear so. The money is in escrow at Vespers Bank. Tomorrow I will make inquiries, do some diligence, ensure the funds are intact and genuine. Make certain everything is aboveboard. When the mission is complete, Cosimo is to make an attestation with the bank officials, and then the money is ours.”

  “There’s only one problem,” said Leo. “What if Cosimo dies on the quest? We’re venturing into a deathtrap. If he perishes, how do we claim our reward? Is there a contingency?”

  “Then you would both need to submit to Immotalus, a truth serum. Bank officials would question you. An unpleasant experience, assuredly, but a worthwhile one, for fifteen gold talents. The main challenge, I daresay, will be infiltrating the Library.”

  “I thought — err, I thought you told Cosimo that you could obtain a Letter of Imprimatur from the Duke. Is that not the case?”

  “A bluff, Leo. A little… ah, self-aggrandizement… to emphasize our prestige. Prestige is the currency of our guild.”

  “And here I thought currency was the currency of our guild,” Leo mumbled. He shrugged, and in a louder voice said, “It’s no matter. We’ll simply don disguises. Blend in and walk in. Our usual tactic.”

  “Only a few hundred scholars, scribes, and mages work inside the Library of Azkaya,” Nico said. “They’re each known and recognizable to one another. Any disguise would need to be unimpeachable. It would take weeks of preparation.”

  “We don’t have weeks,” Tomasso said, a touch of despair in his voice. “If I have the measure of Cosimo, he won’t wait that long; he has far, far more money than patience. He would sooner bribe every guard in the Myriad Isles to look the other way than wait a single week longer. There’s no other way to gain entry to the Library? We need to impersonate an existing worker?”

  “Well, the other way is that we obtain the Letter of Imprimatur from the Duke.”

  “Fat chance,” Leo said bitterly. “He’d sooner sign our death warrants.”

  “Unless…” An idea occurred to Nico, blossoming in his mind with vivid clarity. “Wait here — I’ll be right back.” He swept out of the room.

  Leo watched him go, and once again he was struck by how utterly dependent he was upon his dear friend. Almost every scrap they found themselves in which didn’t involve swords, Nico always somehow magicked a solution out of thin air.

  He turned back to Tomasso. “Was Lucius able to scrounge up any intelligence on Ilhen’s Seventh?”

  “Ilhen’s Seventh — no. That seems to be a decidedly well-kept secret, and not one we have pursued with deliberate purpose. He was, however, able to find some details on the Azkaya Library which may come in handy.” Tomasso set a sheaf of papers down on his desk, smiling. “A bit of light reading to accompany you on your journey.”

  “Right,” Leo said. “I’ll have to farm that work out to Gianna. Reading is not really my thing.”

  Tomasso laughed. “Isn’t it nice to delegate? One of the luxuries of being a senior adventurer.”

  Just then Nico returned, carefully holding a pair of alchemical vials in each hand, pinching them between index and thumb.

  “Show me the writ,” he said. “The summons from the Duke.”

  He examined it closely, nodding to himself. Leo took one of the vials which Nico had set on the desk. The liquid within was waxy and translucent with a blueish hue. “What is it?”

  “Citrine sap. Careful. It's explosive when agitated.” Leo set the vial back down and took a cautious step backward.

  “The other one is a rarefied solution of muriatic acid. The first can freeze a wax seal; the second will dissolve the adhesive bonds, so that it can be cut away. It's experimental — something I obtained from an apothecary."

  “That's… that's some fucking black magic.” Leo grinned.

  “Not magic. Chemistry… and rather esoteric chemistry at that. Once the seal is removed, I can use an epoxy or adhesive resin to apply it to another letter—”

  “—A Letter of Imprimatur. A forgery.”

  “An immaculate forgery, with the Duke's own seal and signature, as if penned by his own hand. I can use the original as a guide. No one would ever deny its authenticity — first because it looks so authentic, and second because no one dares gainsay Duke Ferdinand II.”

  “Forging a letter from the Mad Duke… you've got moxie, Nico.”

  “We'll use aliases,” Nico said with a thin smile. “I’m not Nico; perhaps I'll be émeric.” émeric Ferrera was one of the many aliases Nico deployed for his work with Pathfinders.

  “Brilliant!” Leo said. “Of course, if we are caught, they'll put us to the guillotine.”

  “If we don't try, the same fate awaits Tomasso.”

  Tomasso’s smile faltered somewhat. “Wait — what about the other members of Cosimo’s party? The contract makes references to supplemental party members. Will you furnish disguises for them as well?”

  “I’d rather not. But if it’s in the contract, I suppose I have no choice in the matter.”

  “Maybe you do…” Tomasso ran his finger along the parchment, searching for a particular clause. “Ah! Yes, the contract is quite vague on that point. It obligates you merely to find the Index in the library, but it does not say you must lead Cosimo or his other adventurers to it. Of course, if the Index leads to Ilhen’s Seventh… well, to collect the second prize, Cosimo must be present. The contract stipulates that he and his party intend to enter it.”

  “That’s a pretty big if,” said Nico. “I’m willing to bet long odds the Index leads to nothing valuable, let alone Ilhen’s Seventh. We’ll make our initial foray into the Library alone. Alone, and unencumbered.”

  Leo nodded, barely able to contain his glee. In the past year he'd crossed steel with an undead viscount, purloined the Parthian crown jewels, and intercepted a Vedic treasure ship. And now he was on a quest to find a legendary deathtrap.

  What a joy to be alive.