CHAPTER THREE-HUNDRED NINETY

If I could, I’d be holding my breath. As far as anyone can tell (and that includes Cappy, so I’m pretty confident) the thieves don’t know we’re in. The reason I’d like to hold my breath is that I’m watching through Teemo’s eyes as he, Thing, and Queen work to get into the safe.

It’s interesting to see how the safe is constructed. I’ve seen safes in videos and such, people having fun doing destructive things to them to see just how hard it is to get into one with brute force. In those videos, the safes always have like rock or something between two thick plates of metal. I had thought it was just to give the safe some ablative defense and make it harder to deform one enough to get in.

Getting through the outside is a slow process. I was expecting Queen to mostly just go slowly with the metal-mandibled ants, but she’s actually slowly using crucible ants, under the careful direction of Thing. He’s manipulating the wards just enough to let her get through, and even helping radiate the heat enough to not set off any other alarms built into the ward.

I can’t tell what all the ward has, but Thing is easily looking into the matrix, not for blonds and brunettes, but for the subtle hints of where the alarms are. I’m glad I don’t have to try to direct him and Queen, that’s for sure. It’s working well, and soon we’re through! Or… through the first layer, at least.

I was expecting the thief’s safe to be solid metal, and I think Teemo was, too, but Queen and Thing aren’t surprised when they get past the first layer and find iron-banded wood, of all things, between the inner and outer shells. The answer they give when Teemo asks makes me feel kinda stupid for how obvious it is.

A safe isn’t just to keep things from being stolen, but to keep them safe from things like water and fire. A good seal will keep water out, but solid metal will happily broil whatever important things are kept inside if there’s a big fire outside. Wood is a pretty terrible insulator, thanks to the whole flammability thing, but when sealed up like it is between the two shells, it’d only be able to char.

That’s probably deliberate, too, as it’d have to absorb at least a bit of the heat to be able to turn into charcoal. I bet there’s safes around with asbestos in the walls, too. It also makes me wonder if concrete would be a good filler. I have no idea how insulating it is, but broken safes in videos always look like they have concrete inside. I dunno. Either way, the wood is a trickier thing to get through than I would have imagined. Queen sends in the metal ants now, but they’re just looking, not digging just yet.

It looks like I’m not the only one who is trying to take advantage of composite materials and their ability to accept more enchantments. While I wouldn’t call a safe a single composite, they still had to build this thing at some point, and if you’re making something secure, why not enchant the core as well as the facings?

It looks like the wood is enchanted with more thermal and humidity detecting wards than the simpler breach wards on the outside, and assumedly on the inside, too. The iron banding is there to detect if the wood somehow breaks, or if it stops being wood and starts being charcoal. Thing seems pretty interested in the working of the enchantments, and the group even takes a small break to let him examine the security.

Once he’s done, it looks like the easiest way to get through the wood is to just go around. It’s not like they poured or grew the wood inside to perfectly fill the space. Queen sends a few scouts to find a good path, and Teemo carefully expands the space so he and Thing can follow. At the other side, Queen uses the metal ants this time. We’re after documents, so it'd be a real shame to accidentally burn them up while breaching the interior. With the wood around, it’d be harder for Thing to dissipate the heat fast enough, and with the wood right there, we’d run the risk of setting off those alarms, too.

So the ants slowly chew through the metal while Thing ensures we don’t get caught. The metal’s pretty thick, of course, but the ants make steady progress. It takes even longer than to get through the exterior. It’s the last line of defense, so I shouldn’t be surprised it's the hardest, but I’m still anxious to see what’s inside.

Were we somehow played and it’s a trap? Was Cappy simply wrong about the documents and it’s just full of gold or something? Maybe we’ll have a full magical recording with biometric data about the business between the Earl and the thieves. Not knowing is the worst part, even if the last one feels like pretty long odds.

Finally, they break through! I think Teemo’s just as eager as I am, because the first hole is hardly enough for an ant to stick a leg through, but my Voice expands the space to allow a single scout through to see if there’s any final final defense we need to be worried about.

Nothing explodes, so Thing cautiously sticks a finger through to get a look, before signalling that things look clear. So long as they don’t try to mess with the door mechanism, they should be good to go. Teemo peeks in for a few moments, letting me see as well, and we both grin at what we see.

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Lots and lots of papers. There’s ledgers and logbooks, as well as what looks like a thick pile of contracts or something similar. It’s enough to make me wonder if we should have brought Honey along to get through everything, but Queen’s no slouch with data. She and her ants charge in, eagerly examining everything.

Amusingly, a lot of it is tax information. I guess taxes really are a universal force, and the thieves have no intention of going down like Capone did. As I understand it, the last fiscal year for the law-abiding peoples of Fourdock was a very good one, and it looks like those in the shadows had a banger of a year, too. I don’t pay too much attention to the reports Queen gets about the taxes, though I bet Honey will enjoy going over the details to see just what kind of effect I’ve had on the criminal underbelly of the town.

One book is apparently a membership ledger, with details on how to identify each member, their position in the guild, and their current assignment. It even lists people who are no longer in the guild, along with either bounties or the names of who collected. Karn is apparently worth quite a bit, though I doubt he’s worried about anyone collecting.

I’d be suspicious about the ledger if it weren’t in among so many other important documents, and behind such strict security. A guild leader needs to know who everyone is and what they’re doing, and I can’t imagine that information being anywhere more secure. Even memorizing it probably wouldn’t be safer. A good mentalist might be able to pluck that sort of stuff out of a mind in passing. Better to keep the details somewhere safe.

The really juicy bits are the contracts. While I bet the thieves have other ways to secure deals, it looks like they like to rely on Order for the really important things. None of them have the weight of the one Kennith used to transport the Harbinger, but I can still feel there’s more to them than just paper and ink.

And wax, for a few of them. There’s a few treaties between what looks like thieves guilds in other areas, basically promising to stay out of each others’ business, but there’s also a few with noble seals. These ones definitely have my and Queen’s attention, and we’re both eagerly devouring each report she gets about them.

Most look to be part of hostage ransoms. Someone or something is quietly returned for a bunch of money and both parties promise to not blab, basically. The thieves would want that sort of promise so they don’t get hunted down, and the nobles wouldn’t want to lose face from having a hostage situation become public knowledge.

Then the ants report having found the contract with the Earl. I mentally go over the report as Queen moves to take a look at it personally, with Teemo even expanding the space between the stacked papers so everyone can take a closer look.

According to the report, the Earl is promising amnesty and employment to the guild leader, with other members to be offered the same at her discretion, in exchange for her cooperation in securing his hold in Fourdock. It doesn’t specifically mention eliminating Rezlar, but it’s still ironclad proof of them working together!

However, the mood of my scions isn’t matching mine, with confusion and concern slowly growing among them. I look through Teemo’s eyes, but don’t quite get what has everyone so worried.

“Boss… look at the contract,” says Teemo gravely, letting me use his eyes. It still takes me a few long seconds to realize what has them all worried.

There’s no weight to the contract. How is there no weight to it? The security of these contracts is kinda Order’s whole schtick! I seriously doubt someone who could lead a thieves guild would fail to notice a contract with no weight after signing, so what gives? The Earl didn’t die or anything like that, and I’m not sure even that would break one of these things!

Teemo frowns for me as Queen’s ants swarm, going over the details of the document with ant-sized fine-toothed combs. Details start to quickly emerge. First, nothing in the document actually mentions his rank as a noble. He has his whole long name at the end, but the word “earl” is entirely missing. Second… he doesn’t swear by his name or rank or even himself to do as the contract says, but rather by all the power and weight of the ring he used to seal the contract.

Which brings up a third interesting thing: the contract is a lot wordier than the one that moved the Harbinger. I remember thinking, at the time, that fewer words seemed weaker for a deal, but as I keep looking over this contract, less is definitely more.

More words give more room to lie with the truth. I bet he implied left and right about his noble rank when he was negotiating and signing, but everything in that contract hinges on the ring. Would he destroy his own signet ring?

No way. And I get the feeling that using his actual signet ring would have bound him tightly to the contract. But… what if I’m not the only one who knows how to hide things in plain sight? A couple rocks aren’t just rocks, but rather my rockslides. My bees poking around the thieves guild are just the feint to distract from Cappy infesting the place.

Who says a noble can’t make their own forged rings? If there’s no power in the contract right now, and all the Earl’s promises are based on the ring, then there’s probably no more ring, right? It’s devious, too. The thieves' guarantee of cooperation becomes just another mark against them when they try to use a powerless contract as proof they were working with the Earl, to avoid the consequences of their actions.

Teemo, bring the contract back.

“Isn’t it pointless?”

For the thieves it is, and if they notice what’s wrong, they’ll probably destroy it. But it might be just what we need to prove the Earl is up to shady things. It won’t hold up too well on its own, but it might be just the thing once Gerlfi and the others find something of their own.

Teemo reluctantly nods and gathers up the contract as the others prepare to leave. While there’s a lot of other juicy details in there, simple copies are plenty for us. But having the actual contract is going to be important, I can feel it. I’m no ace attorney, but I can practically taste this being one of the pieces of evidence that turns the whole case around.