After the alchemist i, things mostly returned back to normal. Bernt did his rounds, ing out blockages, chasing down the odd leftover slime and, on one memorable afternoon, iing aire of mutant rat men that had been living iunnels underh the dockside market. That is, until Jori stumbled across them during a routine sweep of the area.

  In his free time he kept w on his spellcasting basics. Thanks to his familiar’s support, he could also often free up an hour or tw his workday to practice with the new wand. That was good, because there weren’t a lot of pces iy where someone could safely cast destructive fire magic without raising any arms – or burning down a neighborhood.

  The rgest sewer mains in the lower city, he river, were an important exception. They were broad tuhat spahe width of nearly the ereet above. They also had narroays along one side, so he didn’t have to wade through the sludge – the smell was bad enough without actually standing in it. So long as he made sure that the ventition was clear so there weren’t any fmmable pockets of gas.

  That was a mistake he’d only made once. He mao protect himself, but a geyser of fme still shot up into the street, causing quite a stir. Fortunately, he was the ohat Ed ended up sending to look into the matter, so he just shelved the iigation as inclusive.

  Things were going well. Very well, even. Until, one m, Bernt showed up to find nearly all of the Underkeepers, seven of them, assembled in the rge, single room that served as their headquarters. On paper, everyoarted at the same time every m, but in practice it didn’t matter. As long as they fiheir assigs, Ed didn’t care when they showed up. Most of the older Underkeepers were early risers – the sewers ran a bit lower before dawn, before the popuce started adding their m effluent to the flow.

  Ed scowled at him iing. “Nice of you to join us.”

  Bernt was very nearly the st oo arrive. Since he didn’t actually have to walk the sewers very mu an average day, he didn’t usually see any reason to sacrifice perfectly good sleep.

  What was going on? Had they found out about Jori?

  No, it couldn’t be. Looking around at the faces of everyone assembled, Bernt saw impatiend a bit of worry, but no acg or suspicious gazes directed at him.

  Besides, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was totally legal. Nobody would actually hire a real warlock, but he wasn't one. Ed would probably just grumble at him and double his workload if he found out.

  “Where’s Dayle?” He asked, noting their missing colleague. At least he wasn't the st person to arrive. That was a little strahough.

  Dayle was one of the aforementioned early risers, a friendly type who had initially trained Bernt back when he’d first swallowed his pride to join the infamous muck mages. He should have been here.

  Ed sighed. “That’s what we’re here for. Dayle didn’t che to submit his report yesterday, and he didn’t e in this m. Kustov here went to che him at home, but he isn’t there, either. We’ve got a man missing. We’re going to trace his route yesterday and see if we figure out what happened.”

  Fiora, the only woman among the underkeepers, frow that, long lines creasing her weathered face. “Did you get the guard involved? This sounds like something they’re supposed to handle. Or at least know about.”

  Ed o her in a way that made Bernt suspect that he’d expected this question.

  “I already sent a ruo the guard. But it’ll take them at least a few days to even start an iigation, never mind ung a search party.” He said, disgust practically dripping from his voice. “Nobody up there is going to rush to crawl through the sewers looking for a missing muck mage, or anyone for that matter. If he’s alive and in trouble, then it’s up to us to get him out.”

  There had to be some kind of history there, Bernt decided, but this wasn’t the time to find out what issues Ed might have with the guard.

  This was bad. Mundane maintenance workers might sometimes fall prey to a mutant rat, a sewer crocodile or a slime, but underkeepers didn’t just go missing. The sewers were their sed home – their smelly, cold and damp sed home, but still. Nothing there could seriously threaten them. Any individual mage should be more than enough to handle anything that they ran across beh the streets.

  “We’re going to run a sear teams of two. When you find Dayle, or evidence of what happeo him, yoing to activate one of these.” Ed held up four runed pebbles, one for each team.

  “Hey… What are these?” Asked Kustov, reag out a hand for one. As a dwarf, he was almost as ied in rocks as he was in runecraft.

  “They’re beas. Activate one, and all of the others will light up aly pull toward it. Now quit interrupting. We o get out there.”

  –-----

  Bernt trudged along behind Fiora as sewage slowly seeped through the seams of his not-quite water-tight boots and listeo the dull thud of her short walking staff, her magical focus, as she used it to probe the disgusting waters ahead. He’d fotten just how awful it could be wading through the sludge for hours on end. With Jori’s help, he rarely spent more than ten mi a time standing in the bck water. Of course, he wasn’t going to reveal her existence just to avoid a bit of work.

  Not that he was going to risk Dayle’s survival on his ina, either. He owed the man for showing him the ropes and for bailing him out more than once whe in over his head trying to cite someone who was too important to penalize for their misbehavior. Their profession involved more politics than a maintenance job had any right to.

  Jori was ranging out ahead of them, rapidly cheg every nook and y fns of ret passage. If Fiora heard anything, she would attribute it to the scrabbling of ordinary sewer rats.

  They were nearing the end of their assigned se when Fiora stopped so suddenly that Bernt bumped into her.

  “Someone’s got something.” She said, already pushing him back. “Back up, let’s climb out over here. It’s pulling over to the right – probably Yarrod and Ed over in Smith’s ne.”

  Hurrying back, Bernt scrambled up the wrought iron dder set into the shaft.

  Smith’s ne was at the very edge of the upper city, up against the city walls. Bcksmiths were craftspeople of status and usually wealthy enough to make it out of the lower city, but the noise and smoky nature of their craft meant that they couldn’t set up shop o a minor noble or wealthy mert either. As a result, they’d carved out a small slice of the city for themselves to serve the steady stream of adventurers, citizens, and military quartermasters who came to them for tools, ons, and building supplies.

  Going through the sewers would have required them to wade around for nearly ten minutes, but at street level, a quick shortcut through a nearby alley got them close enough to hear the ringing of hammers. A mier they were climbing back down another shaft to enter near where Ed and Yarrod’s search area was supposed to end.

  Bernt could tell immediately that something was wrong. As soon as they reached the base of the dder, they could see light shining brightly around the er, which was… not standard practice. Why bother?

  “Yarrod? Ed?” Fiora called out? “Did you find him?”

  “Here!” came Ed’s voice, sounding a bit strained.

  As they rouhe er, a new smell hit Bernt’s nostrils, mixing with the already foul odor of the sewers. It was sour aallid he could guess where it came from. Ed ropped awkwardly up against the wall, illuminated by a blinding ball of light that he’d jured – a light trip, but… better than he could manage himself. Ed io the stone wall by two metal spikes that had apparently shot out from the other side of the wall with incredible force, one going straight through his belly. A trap of some kind. Who was ying traps in the sewers of all pces?

  While he was staring, Fiora moved. Whipping her short bck staff bad forth in a plex motion, she sent both spikes shooting out of the man to ctter against the far walls from which they came. Before Bernt could protest that Ed was only going to bleed out even faster now, she’d already caught him and pulled out an expensive looking gss vial, her staff cttering to the floor.

  “Drink it, quick!”

  Betedly, Bernt picked up her staff as Ed gulped dowion. It was a healing potion – a good ooo. Fiora must have been carrying it on the job as an emergency measure. He doubted she’d be able to repce it anytime soon.

  “What happened?” He asked when, a moment ter, Ed leaned back against the wall with a relieved groan.

  “We got ambushed. They took Yarrod and came down this way. When I went after them, I got hit. Kobold bastards and their traps.”

  Fiora frowned. “Shit. We o go after them, right now. The others should be here soon. They’re going to torture him first, but he’ll be dead if we don’t hurry.”

  Bernt looked bad forth between Fiora and Ed, puzzled.

  “What do you mean? Why bother abdug him if they’re just going to kill him? And there’s no point in t him... what could they possibly want to know from us?”

  Ed scowled and got up, more eically than someone who’d been impaled just moments before really should.

  “Yarrod’s a gnome, and they're kobolds.” He said, as if that expined everything. “They don’t need any other reason.”

  Pulling his pipe out of a pocket, Ed began flourishing it in precise patterns, casting more balls of blinding light, sending them dowunnels and illuminating them more brightly than a sewer tunnel ever should be. The the end in his mouth and pulled on it, apparently lighting it with a thought as smoke began to rise.

  “Kobolds don’t like bright lights.” He said by way of expnation. “Get down there and see if you find where they came in. The sewers are supposed to be a closed system, but they’ll have tunneled in somewhere uhe walls.”

  Bernt was still staring at Ed’s pipe. Was it a spellcasting focus, like a wand? Who would even make something like that?

  Dismissing the thought, Ber a feeling of caution through his bond with Jori. He didn’t want her getting too close, or to run afoul of any kobolds herself. He wasn’t sure how they would react to a demon – he hadn’t studied much about the intelligent subterranean races. After years of sewer work, he wasn’t about to waste his adventuring career crawling around underground. Jori wasn’t far, but she slowed and he could sense her eyeing the walls suspiciously.