The climb was not pleasant. The Drystorm whipped at her clothes and threatened to tear her off the rock, but Kess made it in record time— a feat she owed to a host of unpleasant practice attempts that had ended in bruises and sprains.

Kess sat in a dingy room off to the side of a tavern ring owned by Mattes, cheek still stinging and fingers itching to snatch the bag of coins from his desk. At least part of it would be hers to claim, if Mattes honored his side of the deal. He usually did.

Mattes himself burst into the room, shouting and musty ring air drifting in behind him. The door slammed shut, muffling bawdy laughter as Kess tucked her hand back against her ribcage. No point in looking like a thief.

“You had a little too much fun last night, Kess,” he said, stuffing his overly large frame into the worn chair across the desk. His ever-present scowl was there, but there was an unfamiliar pallor to his complexion. He met her eyes with an even stare. “Really? You nearly win the fight, then you get into a drunken brawl not hours later. What do I pay you for?” he asked, reaching across to grab the bag of coins. Kess lunged for the bag, lightning quick. Mattes paused to stare, hand frozen just before the bag.

“She was Fulminant,” Kess said. “That wasn’t part of the deal. Do you know what will happen if you keep putting me in rings with Fulminant fighters?”

“I’ll be a very rich man.”

“You might be,” Kess agreed. “But I’ll either be dead or so recognizable that you’ll have to replace me, and then where will you be?”

“You nearly winning was not part of the deal,” Mattes said, his voice venomous. “If you’d just lose like you’re supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He held her gaze, but didn’t reach for the bag. “There’s a Fulminant ring tomorrow. You’re on the docket,” he said, shuffling a few papers into order, though there was hardly a point with the desk so filthy. Kess’s heart went still at the words.

“I told you I’m not fighting them.”

“And I told you I’d keep you out of their rings if you did your job,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss her.

“I did my job. I lost, didn’t I?”

“You flew too close to the sun,” he said, moving to sign something with an abused pen. Teeth marks decorated the top. “My investors in Blackhill are pissed. Everything has a price.”

Kess fought down rising panic. She had known about Mattes’s plan. Known for weeks, and yet it was still hard to steel herself for what she had to do. She took a deep breath, her ribcage smarting.

“Speaking of which,” she said, running her hand casually across his desk. He stopped his paper shuffling just long enough to look up at the proprietary touch.

“Out with it,” he growled. Kess shrugged and decided not to waste time on niceties.

“How much are you getting paid for it?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” she said. “My debts are almost paid, and you know as well as I do that I could make a killing selling what I know about your matches.” Dangerous words, but Kess held his eyes as she put both arms on the table, letting her gaze fall to the papers. Kess was not a large woman, but something about her had always unnerved Mattes, and she used that now to her advantage. Mattes rewarded her with a slight bob of his throat.

“I could flay you alive right now for even threatening that,” he said, voice filled with steel. He could do it. He had done it with lesser fighters before. Still, Kess forged ahead.

“And lose your prize fighter for tomorrow?” she grinned and flopped back into the chair behind her, propping her feet up on his desk with a clink next to the bag of coins. Matte’s face fell just a bit.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I can get another.” The slight dodge of eye contact told her all she needed to know about the truth of that statement. Mattes was a terrible liar for a man who dealt in lies.

“I didn’t know you had a line of fighters waiting to get trounced by Fulminancers,” she said, inspecting her nails. “If I had known the girl last night was Fulminant you’d already be looking for a new fighter.” She willed the anger from the earlier fight back into her voice, but Mattes was unfazed.

“I still wonder why I didn’t leave you to rot in Maude’s ring.”

“Oh come now, Mattes. I’ve made you a very wealthy man.” That much was true. Kess was skilled enough to put on a good show, but unassuming and small enough that even the shrewd eyes of Downhill missed that her matches were fixed— most of the time, anyway. “How much?” she asked again.

“Enough.” Kess held his eyes and let the smile fall from her lips.

“I want half,” she said simply. Deep color rose into his face, and Kess wondered if he might pop with one good prick.

“You’ll get nothing,” he said, his tone gruff. “This is payment for screwing up last night.” Like hell it is.

“No, you’ve had this in place for a long time, Mattes. You should really clean up your desk sometime. Last time I came in to grab my coin, the fight information was right there.”

A single bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Kess didn’t often pay attention to the rumbling below the surface of her skin, a raging energy that she avoided thinking about or looking too closely at, but she let some of that fire into her eyes as she held his gaze. Thunder complained overhead again as the Drystorm whipped into the building outside. Mattes paled.

“I’ll give you double your usual amount,” he said. Kess snorted, rolling her eyes at the man.

“That’s not even going to cover the healing bill when I’m done in the clouding ring. Half or I walk.” A slight smirk appeared on Mattes’s face. Did I push too hard? She wondered, trying to keep her face straight. Mattes, for all his foolishness, had lived his entire life Downhill. He would know when he was being swindled.

“And where exactly are you going to walk to, as an illegal Bloodcrawler who throws matches and falsifies her sashes?” he sneered. “How far would you make it, I wonder, before the Witchblades found their way to you? There are plenty out there already, if I recall from my business dealings this afternoon.”

“I’d certainly make it far enough to ruin your business prospects for the rest of your life,” Kess said. “And before you think of turning me in right now,” Kess added, “know that I have friends waiting with that same knowledge who, if I don’t come back tonight, will get it into the appropriate hands.” A bold lie, which Kess said with as much confidence as she could muster.

“So, Mattes.” Kess took her boots off his desk and smiled sweetly. “Half. And my debt is paid, and you’ll have bought my silence for the rest of my days.” She placed a hand over her heart and willed some form of sincerity into her expression.

“What’s to say you won’t sell me out to the highest bidder?”

“That’s what the half is for. I’ll have no need of any money I get from turning you in, nor do I want the string of disasters that would follow me after that. And I’m sure you have plenty of people waiting to spill my secrets, too.”

Silence filled the dingy chamber. Thunder rumbled overhead, a constant companion.

“Half,” she said again. “Half, and you can get yourself a more docile Bloodcrawler and wash your hands of me.” Mattes snorted, but Kess could see his mind working already, doing the calculations to figure out if her offer was worth it or not. Kess willed her heartbeat to still. It was a gamble. Gamble or no, Kess knew she would have to face the Fulminant fighter tomorrow. Her blood chilled, and she tunneled the thought away. Later. I’ll think about that later.

“And what exactly, Kestril, will you do after that?” he spat her name like a curse. Something inside of her emptied at the words, but she gave Mattes a little smile and told him as much of the truth as she could muster for this man who had both abused her and sustained her for so many years.

“I’ll get as far away from the Fulminant as I can,” she said, her voice foreign in her own ears. Mattes regarded her for a moment, head tilting as if to figure out something. Then, he sighed and waved his hands, dismissing her.

“You’ll have your half,” he said, a low growl forming in his throat as he tossed her the bag of coins. Kess caught it deftly. “Just don’t screw up tomorrow.”