“You may not want to hear it, Miles, but I think that actually went very well.”

I frowned at Cadoc, trying to make my displeasure obvious, even though he couldn’t look at me dead-on. That seemed a bit too far for my taste. There was being an optimist, and then there was Cadoc.

“How?” I asked. “You’re telling me this is your definition of success?” I gestured to our surroundings.

“Miles, look at the larger scene, broader than this moment.” Cadoc answered. “We successfully stole from a powerful mage, and will soon recover our prizes. We fought against his illusion, and we prevailed, and we impressed him with our power, or our wits. You even managed to outsmart him. I admit, we have now been pressed into his service. But even that is a chance to become stronger. And it will be temporary.”

I sighed. “Y’know, I’m not going to say you’re wrong. But, I mean, maybe it’s just me, but I’m finding it a little hard to celebrate at this moment.”

“Why is that, Miles?”

If my life were a movie, then the camera would now zoom out, revealing where we were.

It was a public square in the first ring of Eraztun. People filled the streets all around us, going about their business. Some stopped to stare at us. Others jeered. Still others threw things.

We were kneeling side by side, head and hands bound inside of a wooden stockade. Y’know, that thing they used to use as punishment back in the day, where people would throw tomatoes at you. Yeah, that thing.

When I heard the punishment being handed down, I thought it hadn’t sounded too bad. The point of the stockade, I thought, was humiliation. As bad as that was, it was nothing compared to the specter of roasting alive as a new quadriplegic with his skin peeled off. Besides, I liked tomatoes.

It was much worse than I thought.

I retched as another fruit, rotted beyond recognition, splatted against my face. Some of it got into my mouth. I tried not to talk when a thrower was around, but I hadn’t seen this one approach. I guess I had gotten too distracted by the conversation. I managed to hold in the vomit, this time.

As disgusting as that was, it got worse. Some people threw manure. Others threw old, hardened foodstuff, which hit more like a rock. Rocks seemed to be the main thing that was banned, but the little fucking runts of Eraztun didn’t care for that rule, so earlier that day we had been pelted by stones, thrown by children. Yelling for them to stop only encouraged them to continue.

So you can see why I was having trouble looking at the bright side. Cadoc managed to keep smiling, even while we were both getting our faces cut and bruised until we looked like boxers who were losing terribly but didn’t know when to quit. I could feel parts of my face which had swelled beyond recognition, and feel the blood running down my face, from other spots. I couldn’t see myself, of course, but I could more or less see Cadoc, and I could only imagine that I looked just as bad as he did.

Berenguer had told us, while we were still in his cell, that we were his, and that we would work for him until we paid off his debt.

The idea grated on me. More debt. I didn’t even want to think about it. I seemed to be cursed to forever accumulate debt.

Until we paid him back, he said, he would be sending us into a dungeon. He would block the entrance, and we would be barred from leaving until we brought back enough treasure to satisfy Berenguer. Or until we were dead. Whichever came first.

This suited Cadoc just fine. We had weapons now, and some of the things we had stolen would help, as well, though we still needed to do a full inventory.

So part of me understood completely that this was progress. I was certain we had stolen enough coins and valuables to pay off that month’s payment. And something we had stolen - whether the potions, or the books - would make us stronger. The books might even teach us how to use better magic, which would be a huge jump forward. So I knew that I was about to be both stronger, and richer, the moment we were in the dungeon, out of Berenguer’s sight.

But do I seriously need to explain why I didn’t feel great about the situation, even if we were progressing? People were throwing rocks and shit at me. What else do I need to say?

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, finally responding to Cadoc’s question after I was done dry heaving. “I guess I just don’t feel like dying in the dungeon.”

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“You underestimate yourself,” Cadoc said. “What happened to ‘I win?’”

I shuddered, and wished that Cadoc would forget about that speech. I meant what I had said, and an aspect of rage had now taken up residence in my heart, burning inside of me with a warmth that made me feel alive. But it would have been simpler Cadoc had still been passed out, when I had said all of that.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from nearby. We were not the only criminals in the stockades on that day. I turned my head to look, as best as I could.

The voice came from a woman, with blond hair and blue eyes.

Her face was untouched by the trash that had been thrown at Cadoc and I. The crowd had qualms about throwing shit at a woman, apparently. What upstanding, merciful citizens we have here. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

The woman was tall - though it was hard to tell, at that moment - and muscular, and if she had been from Earth, I would have said she looked rather Scandinavian. Her hair was tied back, revealing a large scar which ran across one side of her forehead.

To be clear, she looked nothing like the woman in my dreams, despite the blond hair. Too gruff, too hard, too angular. She looked like she was building up the courage to talk again, though I couldn’t imagine we looked that frightening. She looked scarier than we did.

“Excuse me,” she said again. “Did I hear you say you were going into a dungeon?”

“That’s right!” Cadoc answered, proudly. “It is only the natural next step in our monster-slaying, power-building career.”

The woman was nodding, clearly deep in thought.

“Take me with you,” she said, suddenly.

I laughed in her face. “Seriously, lady? You want to join two strangers - who you know are criminals, by the way - as they risk their lives in some dungeon? If you want to kill yourself, I’m sure there are better options.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Cadoc said, and I wanted to strangle him for brushing me aside like that. But my hands were bound. “He’s just in a foul mood about being caught.”

“Understandable,” the woman replied. “What are you in for, then?”

“Breaking into the home of a powerful wizard,” I said, “Attempting to burn his house down, successfully stealing his valuables, and then hiding them where he can’t find them. He’s now sending us into a dungeon, so that we can either make him money, or die.”

I thought the truth would scare her off, but the woman seemed impressed.

“What about you,” Cadoc asked. “What are you in for?”

The woman’s face darkened. “Doing what I wanted to do,” she said.

I could only think that that sounded extremely ominous, like something a serial killer would say, but Cadoc laughed again. “Truly spoken, truly spoken indeed. Are we not all here because we did what we wanted to do?”

“Could you be more specific?” I asked.

“No.”

“Great, yeah,” I said. “That’ll convince us to bring you along, sure. A real silver tongue you’ve got.”

“I don’t owe you anything. I don’t owe anyone anything.”

And friendly, too.

Cadoc was nodding. “Can you fight? Do you have magic?”

“Yes, and yes,” the woman said. “That was my job.”

“What was your job?” I asked. “Like, specifically.”

“No,” she said again, refusing to answer.

“There’s no chance,” I said. “That we’re going to take you on board. Give up now, lady. We don’t need you.”

A voice was in my head, suddenly. “Hello, Miles. I would like to remind you of our conversation about the importance of diversity in the workplace.”

The woman had just opened her mouth to speak again, but I interrupted her to yell at RENA. “Shut up, RENA! Now is not the time.”

The woman frowned. “My name is Amaia. Not Rena.”

Cadoc shook his head. “Rena is his goddess. My companion is something of a prophet. He communicates with this goddess often.”

She frowned again.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amaia. I am Cadoc, and my great companion here is called Miles.”

“Charmed,” I said, sarcastically.

“I, for one, think we should let her join,” Cadoc said. “She was brave enough to volunteer to delve into a dungeon with us. What more do we need to know? We need every brave soul we can get.”

“You remember that this is a punishment, right?” I asked. “That we’re only going into a dungeon because we’re being forced to? This is the same as if some woman asked if she could go to prison with us, to serve a ten-year sentence in the cell next door. It’s insane. She’s insane, clearly. She’d probably kill us in our sleep or something.”

“I can hear you,” the woman - Amaia, I guess - said, annoyed.

“Congratulations,” I said.

“My friend needs further convincing,” Cadoc said. “What sort of magic do you use?”

“Disarming, mostly. Metal.”

“Like a guard?” I asked, remembering my poor, crushed revolver. I wished RENA would finally agree to send me another.

“Yes,” she said. “Like a guard.”

“That would be useful, wouldn’t it?” Cadoc asked, turning to face me - as much as he could while in the stockade.

“Oh yeah, sure. It’ll be really useful to travel with a potential murderer who could break our weapons at any time. I can’t wait!”

“Why do you think me a murderer?” Amaia asked.

“Because you’re a criminal, and you won’t tell us what you did. We told you we were thieving arsonists, so I can only assume what you did was worse.”

“I told you,” she said. “I did what I wanted.”

I shook my head. “Not good enough.”

“Miles,” Cadoc interjected. “They don’t put murderers in the stocks. They execute them.”

“All the same,” I said. “I don’t trust her. Why would you possibly want to join us?”

“I want freedom,” she said, gazing off at the sky. “Freedom from my responsibilities. Adventuring sounds perfect.”

I scrunched up my face. “What responsibilities? Are you married, or something? Deadbeat mom?”

“No.”

Talking to Amaia was infuriating, the way she spoke in short, unhelpful snippets. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was going to sign on to have this aggravation follow me around 24/7. Cadoc was bad enough.

“Would it convince you if I let you go?” Amaia asked.

“You can do that?” I replied.

She spread out the palm of one hand, and faced it roughly towards me.

Then I heard as the lock which kept the stocks shut was broken. It dropped to the ground with a thud, and I could see it lying there, twisted.

I stood up. Nothing stopped me.

She then did the same thing with Cadoc’s lock.

Of course, we couldn’t just leave. Berenguer had eyes all over this ring of the city, and guards would be guarding every exit. He even had men posted just out of sight, in every direction we could leave from. He had shown us, personally, lest we try something.

But it did feel quite good to stand up again, and stop getting pelted for a little while. We could always get back into the stockades just before the guards came to collect us.

“If you could do that the whole time,” I said, looking down at Amaia. “Then why didn’t you just leave?”

“Didn’t want to,” she said.

Yep. Definitely crazy. But that magic… Maybe she could teach us.

Cadoc spoke up. “Clearly we should take her along. Her magic alone would get us far.”

I sighed. “I guess we can give it a shot. But you’re on a trial run, got it?”

Amaia smiled a thin smile. “Thank you.”

Then the lock fell from her stocks as well. She stood and brushed off her clothes - which, I now noticed, looks surprising nice, like what a noble might wear. She turned to us and offered her hand. “Amaia, as I said. I will work with you for as long as I feel like it, and not a second longer.”

I took her hand, and shook it. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”