Aldric spent the morning after his meeting with Marcus Blackwood gathering information. He started in the most obvious place—the taverns and inns near the Consortium District, where off-duty guards and low-level employees drank away their wages. He nursed a mug of weak ale and listened, his unremarkable face and quiet demeanor making him invisible to the men around him.
The guards complained about their shifts, about the heat, about their officers. They gossiped about their colleagues, about who was sleeping with whom, about petty grievances and minor scandals. Aldric listened to it all, sorting through the noise for anything useful.
By midday, he'd learned that the Consortium was indeed expecting a shipment, though no one seemed to know the exact details. The guards were being tight-lipped about it, which suggested it was important. That was promising, but not enough. He needed specifics—route, timing, number of guards.
He left the tavern and made his way to the Silk Quarter, to Selene's establishment. She'd promised to help, and he needed to collect on that promise.
The severe-looking woman answered the door again, her expression no warmer than it had been the first time. "She's with a client. You'll have to wait."
Aldric waited in the parlor for nearly an hour before Selene appeared. She looked tired, her makeup slightly smudged, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.
"Aldric. I was expecting you. Come upstairs."
They went to the same private room as before. Selene poured herself a glass of wine and drank half of it in one swallow before speaking.
"I have some information for you," she said. "One of my clients works in the Consortium's logistics department. He likes to talk after we're finished, and I'm very good at asking the right questions without seeming to ask anything at all."
"What did you learn?" Aldric asked.
"There is a shipment coming in five days from now. It's raw Sunstone from the Sun-Scorched Lands, a large shipment. The Consortium is being cautious because there have been rumors of bandits targeting their caravans. The shipment will arrive at the eastern gate at dawn, then be transported through the city to the Consortium's main warehouse in the northern district."
Aldric leaned forward. "Route? Number of guards?"
"That's where it gets tricky. My client doesn't know the exact route—that information is kept secret until the day of the shipment to prevent leaks. But he did mention that they're using a standard security protocol: twenty guards, four mages, all Tier 2 or higher. The route will be chosen from three possible options, decided at the last minute."
Aldric felt his excitement deflate. Three possible routes, decided at the last minute. That made it nearly impossible to predict. Marcus wanted specifics, not maybes.
"Is there any way to find out which route they'll choose?" he asked.
Selene shook her head. "Not from my client. He's too low-level to have access to that information. You'd need to get it from someone higher up in the organization, or..." She paused, considering. "Or you'd need to be there when they make the decision."
"Be there?" Aldric repeated. "You mean infiltrate the Consortium?"
"Not infiltrate, exactly. But there might be a way to observe. The logistics department is in the main Consortium building. If you could get inside, find a place to hide or observe, you might be able to overhear the decision when it's made."
Aldric's mind raced. Breaking into the Consortium building was insane. It was heavily guarded, and if he was caught, he'd be executed on the spot. But it might be the only way to get the information Marcus wanted.
"How would I get inside?" he asked.
Selene smiled. "That's where things get interesting. The Consortium is hosting a reception tomorrow night for minor officials and merchants. It's a networking event, a chance for the Consortium to maintain good relations with the business community. Lady Marguerite received an invitation, and she's not planning to attend. I might be able to convince her to give you her invitation."
"Why would she do that?" Aldric asked.
"Because I'll tell her that you're gathering information for me, and that the information might be valuable to her. Marguerite is always interested in knowing what the Consortium is up to. She won't ask too many questions if she thinks she'll benefit."
Aldric considered this. It was risky, but it was also an opportunity. If he could get into the reception, he might be able to slip away and explore the building, find the logistics office, and learn the route.
"All right," he said. "Get me the invitation. I'll do the rest."
Selene studied him for a moment. "You're either very brave or very stupid. I haven't decided which yet."
"Does it matter?" Aldric asked.
She laughed. "I suppose not. Just try not to get caught. If you're arrested, I'll deny ever knowing you."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Aldric said.
He left Selene's establishment with a sense of purpose. He had a plan, or at least the beginning of one. Now he just needed to execute it without getting killed.
The next day, Selene sent a messenger to the Copper Bell Inn with Lady Marguerite's invitation. It was an elegant piece of cardstock, embossed with the Consortium's golden sun symbol. The Sunstone Consortium requests the pleasure of your company at a reception in honor of our valued partners. Tomorrow evening, seven o'clock.
Aldric spent the rest of the day preparing. He cleaned and pressed his best clothes, practiced his etiquette, and mentally rehearsed what he would say if anyone questioned his presence. He also studied a map of the Consortium building that Selene had provided—a rough sketch, but better than nothing. The logistics office was on the third floor, in the eastern wing. If he could reach it without being noticed, he might be able to find what he needed.
That evening, he stood in front of the cracked mirror in his room and examined his reflection. He looked like a minor noble, respectable but not wealthy. Perfect. He tucked the invitation into his jacket pocket and left the inn.
The Consortium building was even more impressive up close than it had been from a distance. It was built of white marble, its columns carved with intricate designs, its windows glowing with warm light. Guards in pristine uniforms stood at the entrance, checking invitations.
Aldric approached with confidence, presenting his invitation to the nearest guard. The man examined it briefly, then nodded and stepped aside.
"Enjoy the reception, my lord."
Aldric walked through the doors and into a world of wealth and power. The entrance hall was vast, its ceiling soaring overhead, its floor polished marble. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals catching the light and scattering it in rainbow patterns. Well-dressed men and women milled about, holding glasses of wine and engaging in animated conversation.
Aldric accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant and began to circulate, observing everything. He needed to blend in, to be unremarkable, while also looking for an opportunity to slip away.
He made small talk with a merchant who dealt in textiles, nodded politely to a minor official who complained about taxes, and laughed at a joke told by a woman whose name he immediately forgot. All the while, he was mapping the building in his mind, noting the locations of doors and hallways, the positions of guards.
After an hour, he saw his opportunity. A servant emerged from a side door carrying an empty tray, heading back toward what was presumably the kitchen. The door was unguarded, and no one seemed to be paying attention to it.
Aldric waited until the servant disappeared back through the door, then casually made his way in that direction. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then slipped through the door.
He found himself in a service corridor, dimly lit and utilitarian. The sounds of the reception faded behind him as he moved deeper into the building. He climbed a narrow staircase, his heart pounding, and emerged on the third floor.
The eastern wing. He was close.
He moved carefully, listening for footsteps, ready to duck into a side room if anyone appeared. The hallway was lined with doors, most of them closed. He checked the nameplates, looking for the logistics office.
And then he found it. A door marked "Logistics and Transportation." He tried the handle. Locked.
Aldric cursed under his breath. He'd anticipated this, but it was still frustrating. He pulled a thin piece of metal from his pocket—a makeshift lockpick he'd fashioned from a broken knife. He'd never actually picked a lock before, but he'd read about the technique. How hard could it be?
Very hard, as it turned out. He fumbled with the lock for several minutes, sweat beading on his forehead, before finally hearing a satisfying click. The door swung open.
The office was dark and empty. Aldric slipped inside and closed the door behind him, then moved to the desk. Papers were scattered across its surface—shipping manifests, guard rosters, route maps. He began to search through them, looking for anything related to the upcoming shipment.
And then he heard voices in the hallway.
Aldric froze. The voices were getting closer. He looked around frantically for a place to hide. There was a large cabinet in the corner of the room. He crossed to it, opened it as quietly as possible, and squeezed inside, pulling the door shut just as the office door opened.
"—don't understand why we need to change the route at the last minute," a man's voice said, irritated. "The standard route is perfectly secure."
"Orders from above," a woman's voice replied. "They're worried about leaks. We're using Route Two this time, and we're not telling anyone until the morning of the shipment."
"Route Two? That goes through the warehouse district. It's longer and more exposed."
"It's also less predictable. That's the point. Now, let's finalize the guard assignments and get out of here. I want to get back to the reception before they run out of the good wine."
Aldric held his breath, listening as the two officials discussed the details of the shipment. Route Two. Twenty guards. Four mages. Departure at dawn, arrival at the northern warehouse by mid-morning. They went over the specifics, and Aldric committed every word to memory.
After what felt like an eternity, they finished their discussion and left the office, closing the door behind them. Aldric waited another five minutes to make sure they were gone, then carefully emerged from the cabinet.
He'd done it. He had the information Marcus wanted. Now he just needed to get out of the building without being caught.
He slipped back into the hallway and made his way to the staircase. He descended to the ground floor, his heart pounding, and emerged back into the service corridor. The sounds of the reception were louder now, music and laughter echoing through the halls.
He straightened his jacket, took a deep breath to calm himself, and stepped back into the entrance hall. No one seemed to notice his return. He finished his wine, made polite goodbyes to a few people he'd spoken with earlier, and left the building.
Only when he was several blocks away did he allow himself to relax. He'd done it. He'd infiltrated the Consortium, gathered the intelligence, and escaped without being caught.
Now he just needed to deliver it to Marcus and hope that the man kept his word.