Waking up again was not the most pleasant experience. My head hurt like hell, my shoulder was worse, and my vision was blurry, but I realized quickly that last was from missing glasses and not a serious head injury. Thoughts flooded back in with my renewed consciousness. The goblin, she’d ambushed me, and struck me down but I was alive. Goblins did like to keep their prey alive.
Pushing myself up into a sitting position, my first step was scrabbling for my glasses with my one uninjured arm. Carding through fallen leaves and soil that stuck to my fingers, I could hear crunching nearby as I felt their frame poke my arm. Mind whirling, I grabbed what I needed, pushing my glasses on just in time for the goblin to appear around the apple tree. I hadn’t even put a scratch on her short, stocky body, or made her work up a sweat on her green brow or blue hair.
More urgently, though, she had Gia with her. In her, as my stomach lurched to see. Goblins were chest-height on most, shoulder height on me, but they had unending appetites and could unhinge their jaws like a snake’s. The goblin’s whole front between her chest and waist was bloated out with a wide, squirming mass, and I belatedly saw her reason for armor that left so much uncovered.
Movement meant Gia should be alive. And if I was still alive I couldn’t have been out more than a minute. But her position was even more perilous than mine.
The goblin licked her chops as she looked down on me. “Should have stayed asleep. Less pain that way,” she told me, lifting her axe off her shoulder again.
She was faster than she had any right to be with an axe that heavy. She’d need maybe a second to swing it at me, and I was in a bad position, on the ground and vulnerable. It’d take me maybe two seconds to stand and face her with my injured arm. Negotiation was nonviable, but she’d already overpowered me in close quarters, and now I was both down an arm and possibly concussed.
Better hope this plan worked, then. The goblin stepped in closer as I gripped my dagger with my weak hand and pulled my legs under me. Her gaze had the air of approaching an injured animal, not a true threat.
She didn’t expect me to slam both feet into the tree trunk as hard as possible, sending overripe fruit raining down upon our heads.
The goblin girl yelped and I scrambled to get my feet back under me. Fruit bounced off her round belly and splatted against her helmet. This was the most chancy part, we were both underneath, and one fruit hit my leg while another glanced off my chest. But none struck me in the spot where she’d broken my shoulder, so I made it through the shower without being left reeling, stunned and helpless. One.
They weren’t missiles that would hurt her, even a blow to the head with her helmet, but they didn’t need to. Being struck on the head by something unexpected will knock anyone off-balance, and she instinctively reached for her own as I managed to stand. Crucially, that meant taking one hand off her axe. Two.
I lunged. She saw me coming, of course. Growling and resettling her hands’ grip, muscles flexed as she started to swing her axe. But I threw my side against her arm, putting my body’s weight into it. Waiting for her to close with me had bought me her half-second of windup time, and unlike those absurd demons who practiced punching at one inch, I’d stopped her swing with most of her force and momentum arrested. Two point five.
I’d unbalanced myself with that, though, so I really needed to make this count. Grabbing the top of her armor and pulling my face up to hers, I locked gazes with the goblin and spat the mouthful of dirt I'd grabbed directly into her eyes. Three.
She screeched and reeled backwards, dropping her axe and clawing at her face. My weight was all on her so we both went over, but I was the one on top as she hit the ground. The impact made me flinch as it jarred my shoulder, but I’d cushioned the worst of the fall against her belly, and as she writhed underneath me I wormed my dagger underneath the goblin’s chin. She went still.
“Spit her up,” I ordered, trying not to gag at the taste still on my tongue and pushing the knife’s edge harder into her throat. I couldn’t fight well at all with my right hand, but I’d gotten it to the only place I needed it. “Spit her up right now, or I cut you open.” Normally I’d have cut her throat or stabbed her through the eye and been done with it. But Gia was wrapped up tight inside her, and cutting a goblin corpse open might come with slicing her up too.
The goblin couldn’t well nod, so she spoke hurriedly. “Yes, yes. You win,” she said, voice coming out a strained rasp. I pulled my knife back slightly, sitting back to pin her legs, as the goblin twisted her head aside and started to noisily gag. This had been much hairier than I liked my plans to be, but somehow I’d managed to make it work.
It wasn’t a pretty process, but Gia came back up her throat, goblin jaws unhinging just as well to let prey out as take it in. She was sodden, hair and clothes soaked dark with juices, but I couldn’t see any signs of injury on her. And her gasps for breath as she stood made it clear she was alive. “Oh, my god. Oh, god. Did that actually just happen?” she breathed, a hand pressed against her chest.
But I was still focused on the goblin, making sure she didn’t try anything else. “Are you hurt?” I asked Gia, staring down our would-be killer as she blinked grit out of her eyes.
“No, I’m, I’m okay. Don’t know how, but I’m okay.” Another shuddering breath escaped her. “You beat her, then? You saved… oh, Ann.”
“I did, but thank me later. You should look away for this part.” I pressed my dagger back against the goblin’s neck. She jerked, giving me a fearful look.
“Fealty,” the goblin gasped out, more panic flitting in her eyes. It was a common practice for defeated demons to surrender and swear loyalty, in exchange for their lives. And not something I was remotely considering right now. “Don’t, don’t! Will serve!”
“A-Ann? What are you doing?” Gia asked, a frantic note in her voice. “You’re not going to – you can’t just kill her like this!”
“I said look away. She’s a threat to both of us, the only sensible move is to kill her.” The goblin knew far too much. She’d seen Gia could be overpowered, and done so to both of us once. Letting her live was just asking for a repeat attempt. “Why are you trying to stop me? You’re the one she ate alive!”
The goblin let out a soft whine. Her yellow lizardlike eyes flicked over to Gia, and I pushed the blade harder, drawing a choked gurgle from her as blood welled up. “Look at me. Don’t look at her, you look at me,” I hissed, and the goblin’s fearful eyes did so.
“Stop it!” Gia shouted, stepping closer and still dripping drool.
“This is for your sake as much as mine–”
“Then if that’s true, listen to me.” There was a new edge to Gia’s voice, but I wouldn’t take my eyes off the goblin for a second. Giving her the slightest opening could mean my death. “Isn’t there any other option? She said fealty, even I know what that is. Can’t we let her, you know, be loyal to us?”
“If we could trust her to be, maybe. We can’t take that risk.” There was no way I’d keep my word in her position. Limitless power at my fingertips, and no reward for loyalty at all. “Come on, you can’t say that she doesn’t deserve this!” Frustration was bleeding into my voice. Why couldn’t Gia see?
“I don’t care whether she deserves it!” Gia shouted, loud enough that I did have to look back over. Her hands were balled into fists at her side, but rather than with anger, her voice was filled with anguish. “I just don’t want you to murder her!” There was a desperation in her eyes that made me pause. And I pulled back the blade just slightly.
Why did one goblin who’d nearly killed her matter this much to Gia? It was beyond obvious to me that her life was more important than letting this little pest live. But if Gia was this insistent, and this unprepared to have someone killed in front of her, I couldn’t make myself go through with it.
“I get it, you think she’s a threat. You think this is too risky. But I’d rather take a risk than watch you cut her throat,” Gia spoke again, softer. “Anthurium. Please. I get it, she scared me too. But can’t we give her a chance?”
“I wasn’t scared,” I lied. Glaring at the goblin, I weighed my options. Killing the goblin would mean alienating Gia. I could probably get her to forgive me, but was it worth the damage in the interim? And conversely, was sparing her worth the risk of losing Gia to her?
I hissed out a breath. No, it was not worth the risk of losing Gia and everything she represented, but killing the goblin so blatantly would pose that same risk too. So if she lacked sufficient reason to stay loyal, I’d just have to make one myself. “One chance. One hint of betrayal, or if you try to run, and I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”
“Crassula understand,” the goblin babbled, bobbing her head. “Crassula will serve.”
I pulled my hand back, and stood up, still watching the goblin evidently named Crassula. She rubbed at the bleeding line on her neck, giving me a mournful look.
“Thank you,” Gia murmured to me, but the way she looked at me was different now. There was a guarded quality in her eyes. Maybe even a hint of fear.
“Don’t mention it.” I could always find a use for cannon fodder, anyway.
- - -
“Alright, first order of business,” I told Gia and our snaggletoothed new recruit, grimacing as my aching shoulder gave another throb. “Pretty sure you,” I glared at Crassula, “Dislocated my shoulder. Have either of you ever popped one back in place?” I’d feel a lot less vulnerable once I’d regained two working arms.
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Eyes wide, Gia shook her head, but Crassula didn’t even blink. “Sure, done it more than once for other soldiers. Easy fix, just push, and snap.”
I trusted her significantly less than Gia, but I’d make an exception here for experience. “You’ll do, then. Let me make sure I don’t bite through my tongue,” I muttered, reaching for a stick with my unhurt arm.
“Wait, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Gia said, waving to catch my eye. “What if you get hurt even worse? Shouldn’t we get you to a hospital? …ugh, maybe you don’t have hospitals.”
“I’ve never heard that word before, so draw your own conclusions.” That didn’t dispel the doubts on her face, and I sighed. “Look, we’re miles from anyone who can treat wounds with skill. I need to be in shape to fight, so we’ll make do with what we have.” I bit down on the wood, and nodded to Crassula.
She gripped my arm with both hands. A burst of pain filled my mind and wood cracked between my teeth, but even as I swore furiously around it, the pain was simmering back down. It settled on a clear ache that was still a vast improvement, and my arm obeyed when I moved it now.
“Alright, that should do,” I told Gia and Crassula, and both women sagged in relief. I felt a small, grudging gratitude towards Crassula, and reminded myself she had injured me in the first place.
“Um, Crassula,” Gia spoke up, tentative. “Do you need any medical attention?” Blood was still dripping down the goblin’s neck from where I’d cut her.
“Huh?” Crassula looked bewildered.
“Your neck, it’s kind of…” Gia winced.
“Oh, Crassula know that. Just not expecting to be asked,” Crassula said, rubbing at the red trickle and studying Gia. Not that this said much, as goblins had never been known for their studies. “Will be all fine. Not deep, or would be feeling it already.”
I did agree with that. If I’d cut anything critical, my problem would’ve solved itself. “Why did you attack us?” I asked the goblin, getting back to important matters.
She blinked her big yellow eyes at me. “Crassula was hungry.”
“Don’t play dumb.” Well, she was a goblin, it might not be playing. “There must be more to it than that.” If she’d sensed Gia’s power or heard us talking about it, she’d know how much of a power boost feeding on her would be.
She shook her head. “Crassula had been walking a while. Been days since Crassula had food that can fill you up.”
“Then how did you find us? And why did you try to eat G-?” I caught myself. That name was something we’d need to address soon. “Why her,” I said, gesturing instead. Surely she’d sensed Gia’s blazing aura like any demon could? I couldn’t believe she’d found us and gone for Gia by chance.
“Heard your voices talking? Voices stick out in the woods.” Crassula looked at Gia as I asked. “Already made sure you wouldn’t run. Could get her before she ran and save you for later. Didn’t know she taste so sweet yet.” Gia made a choked noise at that.
All right. I supposed that was believable, a goblin might exhibit more cunning in the name of filling her stomach. I’d still keep my eye on Crassula, though, especially since… “You were hiding your aura, weren’t you? How long were you doing that?” I didn’t see another way I wouldn’t have noticed her. But Gia had sensed her aura, too.
“Aura?” She looked confused. “Not sure what you mean, but hiding for the whole time. Learned how to hide well back with Acanthus. Not hard once you get hang of it.”
Great, so the goblin found it easy and I still couldn’t do it. Well, she had already seemed stronger than any normal goblin. I knew I would have put up a better fight otherwise.
No, but Crassula had said something important. If she’d been hiding her presence, even without realizing, then Gia had pierced her aura’s veil unknowingly. So even if Gia could only do one thing so far, then whether due to a unique trait or just sheer power, she could do it well enough to find anyone hiding around us. That would very much be useful. “Who is this Acanthus? Friend of yours?”
The goblin visibly shuddered. “No way. Old boss, Crassula left him back with tribe. Too bad for tribe, but good riddance for him.”
And she’d mentioned other soldiers. “You’re a deserter, then.” Not like I had any room to judge.
“Crassula was dessert. Yes.” She bobbed her head.
I paused, and decided to let that pass. “And who does Acanthus work for, himself?” I might not know goblin tribal leaders, but I should know all the real power players by now.
“Mm, the red dragon lady. Kama-nerry? Sounds like that.”
“Chamanerion?” Chief enforcer of Archon Tigrida the Mighty, Chamanerion could easily have been an Archon herself, but had chosen to stay in a subordinate role. Her name was not one I’d expected to hear, though. “You said you’d been walking a while, but I didn’t think you meant from the opposite side of the country.”
“Not worse than a forced march.” She shrugged. I had to admit that was fair.
“You walked across the country? Alone?” Gia looked at her with concern. “What made you want to come so far?”
“Friends from old tribe all gone.” Crassula looked more somber now. “Acanthus thought goblins easy to replace. Crassula thought more distance from him was better.”
Gia was staring at Crassula, face having gone pale. “Oh. Gone. Oh, god.”
“Life like that sometimes,” Crassula said simply.
I couldn’t disagree with that, and I did feel a newfound twinge of empathy for her. We’ve all had that one superior our lives meant nothing to.
“Need any more from Crassula?” the goblin asked me, before pausing, forehead wrinkling up. “What should Crassula call you? Acanthus liked boss, so boss? Sir?”
Gia twitched at that, and I hesitated. The fact that Crassula was asking me brought up a looming issue. “Just Anthurium will do, but give us a minute,” I told her, gesturing for Gia to step away with me. Better to tell her some things now, before she came next. Pain lanced up my arm as I gestured, and I ground my teeth. Of course being fully fine would be too much to hope for.
“What’s up?” Gia asked me, following me over and flinching as she looked at my face. “Ah. Are you mad at me?”
“Hm? No, it’s just,” I nodded at my shoulder, and saw her concern melt into sympathy. “It’s not important, we need to discuss some things. You’ll need a demon name, for one.” She already acted too human as it was.
“Oh? Huh, that could actually be kind of fun,” Gia said, eyebrows climbing as she smiled hesitantly. “Like a code name, right? What should we go with, something like Sat-Annie? Lucy Fer?”
“I was thinking Hydrangea, actually,” I said, a slight smile touching my own lips. I didn’t know what she was getting at, but she seemed to be having fun.
“…Isn’t that a flower?” Gia asked, visibly fighting back a laugh. I bristled, and she held up her hands quickly, still smiling wide. “No, I mean I like it, it’s a pretty name! It just doesn’t sound very demon-y, does it?”
“Hesperia might be the demon realm, but it’s widely known as a land of flowers. Something in the air, or soil,” I did think it was blood, though I didn’t mention that. “Fosters all different kinds of plant life. Demons these days take their names from one or another.”
“You’re not messing with me? Huh,” Gia said, eyebrows raised. “All right, yeah. I like it. Hydrangea… I’m sure there are worse options than sounding like a shrub.”
“It’s also a level of protection, if I say ‘Gia’ and we’re overheard. You’ve already been calling me Ann, so it just sounds like we have,” don’t say pet names, “Nicknames for each other.”
“Oh.” Gia’s cheeks turned pink, and I wondered if she’d had the same thought as me. “I don’t, um, mind that either.”
“Good.” Quickly, I moved ahead to a less sensitive subject. “The other issue. Demons fall into strict hierarchies based on power. Anyone sensing yours will expect you to be in charge, and me to be subordinate. Which we haven’t exactly been doing so far.”
“Well, uh, does that need to be that big a deal?” Gia asked, smiling nervously. “You’re the one who knows all this. I really don’t mind following your lead.” She hesitated, and I saw her gaze flick back to Crassula. But she didn’t say anything.
“I can still guide you, we just need to be more subtle. If you’re clearly letting me be in charge of you, demons will wonder why. They might think you can’t control me. And that you’re secretly weak.”
“Ah.” Gia’s face fell. “What do we do, then? Wait.” She scrunched up her face. “I shouldn’t be asking you that.”
I huffed a laugh. “I can be subordinate to you and still advise you. That’s what I’m used to doing, in my job.” Even if I didn’t have ulterior motives, this was the kind of help she’d need. “There are little things you can do to convey authority. Act confident, speak loud, stand straight. Announce what you want, don’t ask for it.” Seeing her nervous look, I took pity on her. “And you can always say things like ‘Ann, take care of it’, and I will. Then all you’ll need to do is stand there and look vaguely menacing.”
Gia looked down at her cute, freckly, pink-haired self. “I don’t know if I can do menacing.”
“Well, you’ll have time to learn.” We were in the middle of nowhere. I looked back at Crassula, wondering how she’d behave back in town.
“And what about Crassula? Is it okay that you’ve been more in charge with her?” Gia asked, before her eyebrows jumped. “I mean,” She pulled up her chin. “We need to make a decision. Tell me your thoughts,” she said, pitching her voice around two octaves lower.
“Better,” I told her, smiling. “But use your own voice. For her, follow my lead.”
Crassula was twirling her axe when we came back over, and I noted significantly less fruit around her than before.
“Our superior has decided she wants to be addressed as Lady Hydrangea,” I told her. “Do I have that right, my lady?”
“What? Oh,” Gia said, eyes widening. “That’s right. And you had better remember it!” I almost thought her voice might crack.
Crassula was looking between us, eyebrows raised as wheels turned behind her eyes. “Can Crassula call you Lady for short?” she said after a moment, and did look at Gia instead of me.
“That will, um, suffice. Yes.” Gia gave a stiff nod.
“And Lady Hydrangea, I hope I’ve proved myself enough by defeating Crassula,” I told Gia, putting my hands on my hips. Another flare-up surged through my shoulder in doing so, and I clenched my teeth hard. “Ngh. Please, if we meet more enemies who you could obliterate easily, don’t feel the need to test me again?”
“I, ah, don’t believe it should be necessary,” Gia agreed, understanding visibly slotting in as I spoke. “But I am glad we didn’t obliterate Crassula. I know your life before wasn’t going so great,” she said, kneeling down to meet Crassula at eye level. “But it’s not going to be like that here. Okay? We will look out for you.” Her voice, and the look in her eyes, could get surprisingly firm.
Not terribly menacing, though. But Crassula didn’t call us out as frauds, just staring at Gia, eyeing me and turning back to her. “O-kay. Anything else?”
“I would suggest we return to town now. I don’t think there’s much else for us here,” I told Gia.
“Oh, good idea. Uh. Ann, lead the way!” Gia agreed. Crassula trundled behind as we walked off. I had to fight the instinct not to turn my back to her.
“I guess she believed it, then?” Gia whispered. “Even though you’re the one who saved my life.” She wore a strange, complicated expression as she said that.
“She’s a goblin. They’re roughly as intelligent as your average lemming.” I stopped short, realizing one downside of returning to town. “Ugh. I hope she thought to bring some money when she deserted, though.”