“Municipal support means municipal oversight,” Felix said.

  “It also means municipal funding. Maintenance costs add up. Thomas has been covering them from his own pocket.” Whitmore’s expression softened. “The man works harder than he admits. Having official support would ease his burden.”

  I thought about Thomas sitting in his workshop, monitoring the network while we traveled through Keldrath. Fixing problems we never saw. Handling complications we never knew existed. He had kept everything running while we were gone. He deserved recognition for that.

  “We’ll talk to the mayor,” I said. “Work out something fair.”

  “I expected you would.”

  “There is one thing,” Felix said. He glanced at me. “We were wondering about a property on the southern end of town. A building that was vacated about six months ago.”

  Whitmore’s expression went carefully blank. “The one near the corner? The furniture maker used to operate there.”

  “That’s the one. Do you know who owns it?”

  “I do.” Whitmore set down his drink. “Baron Westford. He’s owned that building for years. The furniture maker relocated his business to the capital about six months back, so it’s been sitting empty since.”

  The name hit me like a physical blow. Baron Westford. The nobleman whose estate bordered Aldwich’s holdings. The one who had been at the center of the shadow network conspiracy. The man who owed us a favor that neither of us had ever collected.

  Felix and I exchanged glances. The same thought passed between us without words.

  “Baron Westford,” I repeated. “Fate is cruel.”

  Whitmore almost smiled. “A coincidence, perhaps. Or perhaps the kind of opportunity that rewards those who build good relationships.”

  “He owes us,” Felix said quietly.

  “He does.” Whitmore nodded. “Though I suspect he’s been wondering when you would remember that.” Whitmore stood. “The building is sound and in a good location. It’s appropriately sized for what you’ve been planning. If you approached him with a reasonable offer, I imagine he may be receptive.”

  “You’ve thought about this?”

  “I think about many things. Including the futures of my most promising apprentices.” He nodded to both of us. “Rest tonight. Tomorrow you can begin planning your next adventure.”

  He left coins on the table for the drinks and walked out into the afternoon light.

  Sarah leaned against my shoulder. “Baron Westford. That’s convenient.”

  “Almost suspiciously convenient.”

  “Whitmore has been watching that building for months, hasn’t he?”

  “Probably.” I thought about our mentor. His careful guidance. His long-term thinking. “He’s been planning for this since before we left for Keldrath.”

  “Good.” Sarah smiled. “Someone should be planning your future. You two are terrible at it.”

  The evening brought warmth and familiar faces.

  Thomas joined us at the Brass Monkey as promised. He dropped into his chair with a sigh and rubbed his eyes before reaching for the ale Felix had already ordered for him. Dark circles marked his face, but he was smiling.

  “You look like you haven’t slept in days,” I said.

  “Close enough. Two villages wanted anchor calibrations this week. Riverside needed a full inspection after their node started drifting. And I’ve had three requests for new connections from merchants who heard about what the network can do.” He took a long drink. “People are already treating it like it’s always been there. Complaining when messages take ten minutes instead of five.”

  “The Keldrath anchors connected cleanly,” he added. “Hamish has already been using his chamber to coordinate with glyphwrights in Valdmere. They’re sharing techniques and comparing notes on local materials.” He shook his head slowly. “It’s exactly what we hoped for.”

  “We started something bigger than we realized,” I said.

  “You started it. Rose and I just helped maintain it.” Thomas raised his glass. “To the network. And to the people who built it.”

  We drank together. The ale was good. The company was better. The weight of weeks away slowly lifted from my shoulders.

  Tom and Thomas fell into a technical discussion about resonance frequencies and anchor placement. Felix showed Katherine the documentation he had maintained throughout the journey. Rose asked Sarah questions about the bakery that suggested she was already thinking about supply chains and distribution networks.

  I sat in the middle of it all and let the conversations wash over me. Home. This was what home means. The buildings and streets were just scenery. People made it real. The ones who mattered. The ones who had waited for us to return.

  Sarah caught me watching the group. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How lucky I am.”

  “Sentimental.” She smiled. “I like it.”

  “Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.”

  “Your reputation as what? The merchant’s son who became a glyphwright and keeps saving kingdoms?”

  I grinned. “Something like that.”

  She laughed and leaned against me. The sound was better than any music I could imagine.

  Tomorrow we would look at the building on the southern end of town. We would talk to Baron Westford about opportunities and obligations. We would begin the work of turning plans into reality.

  But tonight we celebrated. Tonight we were home.

  The fire burned warm in the hearth. Friends laughed around the table. Sarah’s hand rested in mine.

  Everything else could wait until morning.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or wherever you share book recommendations. Reviews help other readers discover the series and keep Marcus from having to explain to Erasmus why he adopted a grumpy northern guide and brought him home like a stray cat.

  Here’s the thing: I can’t see your face when you finish reading. I don’t know if you cheered when Edmund Gray chose redemption over ruin, or if you held your breath during Adrian’s rescue, or if you’re already wondering what happens when Harwick finds out two journeymen built a three-kingdom communication network without Guild approval. Reviews and star ratings tell me those things. They tell me you want more.

  Do you want to see what happens if Marcus and Felix finally move into that building on the corner? Watch Felix survive Katherine’s wedding planning? Find out if Thomas challenges for Master rank? See whether the Guild finds new ways to make our heroes’ lives difficult? Your review helps decide if those stories get written.

  So please - leave a review, tell a friend, and follow me on Amazon and/or my newsletter to be notified when the next book releases.

  Even Brennan would raise his flask to that. And getting Brennan to share his whiskey is basically a declaration of brotherhood.

  —Jer

  P.S. - Felix asked me to pass along that the wedding planning has officially begun. Katherine has drafted fourteen different seating arrangements, none of which account for the two princes who keep insisting they’ll attend. Roderick and Henrick have requested seats near the exit “for security purposes” but everyone knows it’s because Henrick cries at weddings. Rose has already calculated the optimal flower-to-table ratio and submitted a proposal that Katherine called “terrifyingly thorough.” Meanwhile, Sarah has been measuring the upper floors of a certain building and making notes that Marcus isn’t allowed to see. She says it’s about “ventilation planning.” Marcus doesn’t believe her. Marcus is probably right not to.

  Want more cozy-adjacent fantasy while you wait for book 4?

  The Keepers of Warden’s Rest offers a different flavor of magical adventure with its own unique cast.

  Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.

  Thank you for reading!

  -Jeremy

  About the Author

  Jeremy Fabiano writes fantasy with a heavy focus on LitRPG and GameLit.

  With 39 published books and counting, he's made a career out of writing stories where power is earned and family is found. Whether it's a cozy magical academy or a brutal progression system, his books are built on the same core: nobody survives alone, and the people you choose matter more than the ones you're born to.

  When he's not writing, he's probably elbow-deep in an engine or playing whatever RPG finally dragged him away from his keyboard.

  Keep reading. Keep learning.

  Never be afraid to reach for your dreams

  To get in touch:

  www.jeremyfabianoauthor.com

  www.amazon.com/author/jeremyfabiano

  Acknowledgments

  Words cannot express my gratitude. But, I’ll attempt it anyway…

  There’s an old saying which I’m going to carelessly steal half of: It takes a village.

  Writing a book does indeed take a village. Many friends have supported my projects one way or another throughout the entire process. From writing advice to marketing theory, from reality-checks to late-night conversations that last until sunup, you are the reason this book is possible.

  Thank you all for believing in me and helping me when I lose my way.

  — JEREMY FABIANO

 

 

  Jeremy Fabiano, Trades & Treaties: The Glyphwright Chronicles - Book 3

 

 

  Thank you for reading books on GrayCity.Net
Share this book with friends