The silence that followed the Ghost Librarian's explanation felt suffocating. Vashtun, who had taken off his clown mask and revealed his usual sly face, and I left the warehouse and returned to his underground base. My mind kept spinning, processing this new piece of information. The Ulthar Mirror was real, and House Droct possessed it. And the Sovereign's Gambit would become their hunting ground.
"Damn it," Vashtun cursed as we sat back down in his lavish office. "So this entire Grivana case was nothing but a small ripple from a much larger storm."
"It's always like that," I replied. I poured two glasses of water for us. My hand was steady, but my mind was restless. "The murder was a test run. House Droct was testing their new weapon before using it on a bigger target."
"And that bigger target would be the heirs of every major faction in the kingdom, all gathered in one place in two weeks," Vashtun continued, following my train of thought perfectly. "They don't just want revenge. They want to cripple an entire generation of leadership."
"This is a coup," I said. "A coup carried out with a weapon you cannot see and you cannot fight back with ordinary swords or magic. Clever. Incredibly clever."
I walked to the whiteboard, wiping away all the notes about the Grivana case. I drew a circle in the center and wrote "Ulthar Mirror." From that, I drew lines to "House Droct," "The Sovereign's Gambit," and "The Consortium." Then I added one more name: "Welt Rothes."
"We're in a tight spot," Vashtun said, staring at my board. "If we tell The Consortium, they'll take over this entire operation, and we'll go right back to being disposable pawns. If we tell Fravikveidimadr or the royal family, we'll reveal the reach of our network and draw unwanted eyes. But if we do nothing, House Droct will succeed, and the chaos that follows will destroy every piece of our business."
"There is a fourth option," I said.
He looked at me. "And that is?"
"We handle it ourselves," I answered. "We play their game. We infiltrate The Sovereign's Gambit. And we stop House Droct from the inside."
Vashtun laughed, a dry laugh with no humor in it. "You're truly insane, James. You and I, against one of the Five Great Noble Houses? That's not a bet, that's a suicidal fantasy."
"Every bet is suicide if you don't know how to play your cards," I shot back. "I might not know every rule of this game yet, but I'm very good at reading the players."
I looked him in the eye. "I can't do this alone. I need you, Vashtun. I need your network, your expertise in covert operations, and your cynicism to keep me grounded. The Consortium gave me a stage. Now, I'm asking you to share that stage with me."
He went silent for a long while. I could see him weighing every risk and reward. He was a survivor, the kind who would never take a risk without a very good reason.
"What's in it for me?" he asked finally.
"Besides your cut from the Grivana payment, which we'll claim once this is done?" I said. "Influence. If we pull this off and foil House Droct's plan, we'll have them in our pocket. We'll have a debt of gratitude from every noble family whose children we save. We'll become a force worth recognizing, not just a shadow lurking in the gutters. And The Consortium will see us as equals."
I laid all my cards on the table. This was the biggest gamble I had ever made.
Vashtun leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming the armrest. "Alright," he said at last, a dangerous glint flashing in his brown eyes. "I'm in. Let's show those arrogant nobles how the real game is played."
Our alliance was solidified. No longer just a relationship between client and contractor.
But before we could start planning our next move, I felt exhaustion hit me like a brick. I had been awake for nearly two days straight, driven by adrenaline and calculations. I needed a break. I needed something normal.
"Before we plan our coup," I said, "I'm hungry."
Vashtun stared at me, baffled. "Hungry? In the middle of all this?"
"A brain needs fuel," I replied. "And I know just the place."
We left the dark underground behind and resurfaced. We had both shed our masks and disguises, leaving them in one of Milverton's secure lockers. I became Welt Rothes again, a young man in a sharp suit. Vashtun, with his striking red hair, looked more like an eccentric artist or musician than a shadow broker. We walked side by side through the Financial District's streets.
"So, where are we going?" Vashtun asked. "The most expensive restaurant in this city? With the Grivana money, we could buy the entire menu."
"No," I said. "Something better."
I brought him to the "Hunger Soothe" diner. It was still the same — simple, clean, filled with the rich aroma of broth. The server with the scar on his face recognized me and greeted me with a small smile.
"Two bowls of chicken noodles, extra chili and garlic," I said. "And two plates of fried rice with beef slices."
We sat at the same table where I had eaten alone just a few days ago. Vashtun glanced around, puzzled. "You brought me here? A regular food stall?"
"Just try it first," I said.
When our food arrived, he eyed it with suspicion. But after the first bite, his expression changed. Surprise, then understanding, then pure satisfaction.
"Damn," he muttered after finishing half his noodles. "This… this is amazing. I've lived in Clockthon for five years and never knew this place existed."
We ate in comfortable silence. For a moment, we were not 'W' and 'Milverton', not strategists planning dangerous things. We were just two people enjoying good food. It was a strange, calming moment.
In the middle of the meal, I remembered something. "Vashtun," I said. "In my old world, places like this were on every street corner. Food like this wasn't a luxury. It was a meal for ordinary people."
He paused and looked at me. "Your old world?"
I realized I had slipped. I was too relaxed. "I mean… where I come from," I corrected myself quickly. "A remote province in the south. Life was simpler there."
Of course, I lied. I would never be foolish enough to admit I was someone from another world who ended up here after death. That would sound ridiculous, even in a world full of wonders like this one.
He nodded slowly, but I knew he noted that detail. He did not press further. He was a professional. He knew when to push and when to back off.
We finished our meal. I ordered two more servings to go, for Finch and Percy. The total bill was a gold gryn coin and twelve griors. Based on my last visit, it was a fair price for food that could lift a soul.
As we walked back toward Doyle Acquisition, I felt clearer, more focused. That small moment of normalcy had replenished what the chaos had drained.
"So, what's our first move to bring down House Droct?" Vashtun asked, slipping back into business mode.
"First, we need to understand their weapon," I said. "The Ulthar Mirror. I want you to deploy every resource you have to dig up anything on that thing. Legends, myths, hidden historical records. I need to know how it works, its weaknesses, and most importantly, how to counter it."
"That won't be easy. Information on an artifact like that will be rare."
"That's why I pay you well," I said. "Meanwhile, I'll do my own research. I have a few books that might help."
We stopped in front of the Doyle Acquisition building.
"And the Grivana case?" he asked.
"We put it aside for now," I said. "It's irrelevant compared to the bigger threat. Let the city guards tangle with that mess. Our focus is The Sovereign's Gambit."
He nodded. "I'll contact you when I find something." He turned and disappeared into the crowd, back to his world below the streets.
I stepped into my office. I left the food package on Finch's desk, then went into my private room.
There, I sat and reflected for a while. This chessboard was vast now, and I could not afford to underestimate the scope of this game. One misstep would send me straight into the abyss.