Dreamer's Throne

"I'm simply saying that if the Klein family were to come under the Grave Walkers as a subsidiary of sorts, it would satisfy your requirements and mine. Well, some of mine."

"Ha! I knew there was a catch," Cynen said, leaning back. "And what is it that you would require to agree to such a crazy suggestion?"

"That's simple," Garrett said. "We would require a guarantee."

A slight smirk crossed Cynen's face as she looked between Garrett and the dire spirit hovering behind him.

"You've got two shapers in your gang," she said, "which is more than most gangs. What further guarantee do you need?"

"A guarantee that our secrets will remain safe," Garrett said, his voice even. "A guarantee that we will be able to smoothly cooperate with you, and that our territory will not be subject to any rules but our own."

Cynen didn't respond immediately, biting her lip as she considered Garrett's words. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this seemingly magical offer than met the eye. There was something about the masked man sitting casually in front of her that set her mind on edge. As a shaper, she had long been accustomed to wielding considerable power, and it had been years since she had faced someone she couldn't see through. Yet Garrett was a complete enigma. There was a strange fog surrounding him, to the point where she couldn't get any read on his real strength. That thought sent a shiver down her spine. She had faced other shapers before, and never once had she gotten this vague unease. But now, her senses were warning her to tread carefully.

"I need to think about it," she said.

"That's fine," Garrett replied. "You're welcome to think about it. But you will have to do so from the comfort of this room.”

A faint green flame sprang up in Cynen’s eyes at his words, causing an immediate reaction from Isabelle. Her hair began to grow and extend, filling the space like a cloud of black strands.

"Calm down," Garrett said, holding up his hand. "I understand your aversion to the idea of remaining here as my prisoner, but please understand your position. Simply because we are negotiating does not mean I am about to give up any of my advantages. I am proposing a deal that would be quite advantageous to you, and quite advantageous to me."

Taking a deep breath and slowly calming down, Cynen nodded.

"All right then, what sort of advantages does this deal give you?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"It allows me to remain as I prefer, hidden."

Garrett’s head cocked to the side, his eyes glittering through the mask.

"You may not believe it, but we are not interested in dominating this city. We would much rather work together with others, living in harmony. Believe me when I say there are too many threats lurking in the shadows of Insomnium to spend time on petty fights with our neighbors. If the Grave Walkers were to accept the Klein family under its wing, in a sort of specialized alliance, we would be able to continue to operate as we do now."

"You want to use us as a shield," Cynen said.

"Exactly," Garrett confirmed, nodding his head. "The single most important benefit that we would get from this arrangement is that as the smaller partner, we would naturally be placed under less scrutiny. You have already expressed to the world that you are interested in Delvers' butchers and their meatpacking plant. Well, as the Delver gang has joined our association, it would make sense for you to bring all of us on board. That agreement would of course extend to any other gangs that join the family directly. And we would simply act as a sort of union of smaller gangs under your umbrella."

Closing her eyes for a moment, Cynen shook her head.

"No, that's not it. There's something else. What else is it that you want?"

As she asked the question, her eyes snapped open, fixing on Garrett's.

Impressed by the sharp insight Cynen demonstrated, Garrett held up a second finger.

"You are correct. As I mentioned, there are existential threats that we face. Primarily among them, a threat that will come from the territory you control. If we were being honest, all I would really have to do in order to ensure the destruction of the Grave Walker gang would be to keep you trapped here. The coming wave of undead that will rise up in the next weeks will take care of the rest. However, it would potentially do much more than that. For better or worse, the city is our home, and this district is where we live. If we allow the undead to rampage, it won't just be your gang that is destroyed. You and your men know the crypts better than anybody. You know where you can lead us underground to preemptively destroy the undead and seal the access points they will use to rise up into the city. Furthermore, you know how to fight and to hunt necromancers. A skill this city desperately needs. Rather than continuing to fight between ourselves, I think that our skills are better used together. As I said, I have very little interest in ruling this city, and so it matters little to me whether you win this conflict, or we win this conflict. In fact, not winning this fight seems a much better option. I understand that this might be a lot to process. And so I'll give you some time to think about it. But think well, and think quickly. We don't have much time."

Garrett stood and bowed slightly.

"I hope you don't mind, but Isabelle will remain here to keep you company. Simply inform her if you have come to a decision. You have twenty-four hours."

With those parting words, Garrett left the room, leaving Cynen staring at Isabelle. Closing the door behind him, he stopped and thought for a moment, mentally reviewing the conversation he had just had. He did think that Cynen would be a good ally. But if he was honest, he had no idea what she might choose. The Grave Walkers were a powerful gang, and his primary concern was that they would come after the Family, searching for their leader. Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot he could do about this until Cynen made her decision. If worse came to worst, he would be forced to make a move on the Grave Walkers, but that would mean revealing the Klein Family’s strength to the world, something he hoped to avoid.

Sending a mental message to Obe through the dream flowers, he reminded his lieutenant to be extra careful about the family's borders to the north, paying special attention to the movement of the Grave Walkers. With a sigh, Garrett took off his mask and rubbed his forehead. It was only mid-day, but Garrett had discovered that he was able to use his powers in the Hollow Space inside the mirror without issue. It was curious, as it operated the same way as the Dream, but wasn’t limited to being accessed after the sun went down.

After considering how to best spend his time, Garrett put his mask back on his face and left the Hollow Space, returning to his office. It was slightly disorienting returning to his real body, and as he felt the hard wood chair underneath him, a faint frown appeared between his eyes. As he wheeled his chair toward his bedroom, his thoughts turned unbidden to his unresponsive legs. The wound, caused by the blade of a now dead Black Raven Assassin, had stolen his ability to walk and Garrett found himself torn as he wondered if there was any way to heal his legs.

It was more of an idle thought than anything, but he immediately stopped in the middle of the hall, his eyes staring straight ahead and his expression turning fierce. Ever since he had woken up in this world he had been actively avoiding thinking about his physical state, more out of a need for survival than anything else. There simply hadn’t been time to consider a cure and he had convinced himself that his situation was fine. He had the option of entering the Dream where his legs worked perfectly, and could even take control of his guardian flower host in the real world, allowing him great mobility when he needed it. However, occasionally when he switched back into his real body, he would feel a twinge of discontent as the constraints his body placed on him shackled him like chains once again.

"Garrett, are you okay?" Ryn's voice interrupted Garrett's thoughts, pulling him back to reality. She was standing behind him, though he had no idea when she had gotten there. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he turned his chair around.

"Yes, why?”

“What's the matter? You've been sitting there for a couple of minutes, so I was worried that something might be wrong," she replied, her gaze searching his face. "If something's not right, if something's wrong, you can tell me."

"I know," Garrett replied. "There's just a lot going on."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ryn said, sighing and brushing her hair out of her face. "It seems like it never rains but it pours. Anyway, we do have some good news. That apprentice program you wanted to set up? We have more than enough candidates."

Garrett's mind was so full of all of the things he had to consider that it took him a moment to remember what it was Ryn was referring to.

"Oh, you mean the accounting school?"

It had only been a week or so since he had proposed the idea and he was surprised that any progress had actually been made.

“Yeah, that's what I've been focusing on since production is still down at the soap factory. Carraway's men are working on fixing the machines but it's going to take at least another couple weeks."

"I see.”

“Like I said, there are people, there's a lot of interest in this school, especially when people found out that it was free."

"Not free," Garrett said, shaking his head. "They'll have to sign a contract with us, whether or not they graduate."

Turning his chair around, he wheeled himself into his room, gesturing for Ryn to follow behind. She came in and took a seat at the table while he parked himself on the other side.

"So tell me about it," he said, gesturing for her to continue.

"Well, like you recommended, we started with our community but word got out fast. We initially announced a hundred positions but we have close to 700 applicants. You've never seen anything like it. Have you looked outside lately?"

Shaking his head, Garrett glanced towards the window in his room. It was too high up for him to be able to see out of it from where he was sitting but the warm light indicated that it was already late in the afternoon.

"No, what's going on?"

"We've got people lined up for blocks. It seems that everybody in the district is interested in this. Most of them don't even have children."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. There are a lot of people who are interested in being trained as money counters and they're all standing outside."

"Well, we're only taking children," Garrett said, his voice firm.

"Can I ask why?"

The certainty in his voice caused Ryn's brow to furrow.

"Because what we're going to teach them is significantly more than just a life skill," Garrett replied. "Our goal is to build for the future and this is going to be one of the steps in our plan. We can expand the number of slots to 200, but make sure that you don't relax the standards. We don't care if the kids know how to read and write already, though that would be a plus. We're just going to test them for their ability to learn and grasp information."

"What about all of the other kids?" Ryn asked, looking slightly nervous. "Their parents might riot if they don't get in."

"Just because they don't get in this year doesn't mean they won't get in another," Garrett said. "As long as the child hasn't yet turned 15, they'll have the chance to apply again each year. The basic test should help weed out those who are not suitable for this kind of work."

"Can we actually support 200 kids?" Ryn asked, her expression skeptical.

Considering her question carefully, Garrett nodded.

"Yes, we can. However, not for very long. Either we need to increase our revenue or, and this would be even more ideal, they will need to start earning their keep. We can support them for six months, fairly comfortably. After that, they'll start working, taking classes in the mornings and working in the afternoons or vice versa. Oh, we'll also need some teachers as well. I will do some of the instruction myself on the more advanced topics, but we need to find people who can teach basic reading, writing, and counting. Put out the word that we're looking for teachers."

"Sure," Ryn said, nodding. "That brings up another problem. Where were you planning on housing all of these students? They can't just live here at the inn."

"For the time being, they'll have to continue to live with their families," Garrett said. "If they don't have homes, they can let us know and we'll find a place for them. In fact, there are likely a number of families in the community that would be willing to put up students as long as we give them a little bit of a stipend."

Listening to Garrett as he unfolded his plan, Ryn couldn't help but shake her head. "You really don't like money, do you?" She said, "Most people, when they start getting money, keep it. You spend it faster than water flows."

Garrett chuckled and spread his hands and shrugged as if helpless. "You've got to spend money to make money," he said. "At least that's what I've always been told. We're gonna see if that works."

"All right, well that at least gives me some direction," Ryn said, standing up. "I'll see about getting the mob organized."

"Sounds good. Let Obe know if you have any trouble," Garrett said. "We will not tolerate chaos, so if any of the parents or adults start getting out of line, don't be afraid to put them in their place."

After Ryn had gone, Garrett looked at the window again. It would be a little while until the sun set and he could re-enter the dream. And so he spent a few moments going over the family's account books. They had gained considerable wealth from robbing the Prince’s warehouses and the Swamp Sharks, and the remaining stock of soap was bringing in a steady trickle of additional income. Money was starting to flow in from the smuggling operation as well, though much of that was being reinvested in order to improve the infrastructure of that operation. This left Garrett looking at a rapidly dwindling treasury. In order to support the function of the family, money would have to start flowing in from other sources, and so he spent a few hours brainstorming how exactly to do that.