"What the fuck are you doing saying that? Markian's dead! We don't have anyone to offer in trade!"

Hel's frustration did little for the mood of her sisters, who were literally shimmering with barely restrained rage. Lowe thought it was a testament to their love for Hel that they hadn't just hulked out and eaten them all the moment the blades started flying. It also probably had something to do with a hero of an who, despite his own traumatic head wound, was maintaining the thickest of layers of Calm over the two monsters.

Mostly likely a little from Column A and a little from Column B, thought Lowe.

Latham looked at him and shrugged. "She has a point, little man. And I can't see it de-escalating this situation for us now to say, 'erm, sorry about that. Turns out the man you want is dead after all. Can we offer a smile and handjob instead?'"

Lowe risked another look around the corner of the door. All he could make out was a long, thin corridor - with no apparent options for cover - at the end of which was a clearly terrified Arebella, behind who was crouched the figure of Cenorth. "I don't suppose either of you is hoarding a secret Skill to take him out at this range without endangering Arebella?"

Hel and Latham shook their heads, the adding, "Not against someone of his Level and Class. If we were to rush him, I could probably deflect some of whatever crap he throws our way off us, but he'd have plenty of time to . . . well, to do whatever he wanted to her before bodying us."

Latham agreed. "I can take him if I can get close enough. I just don't see your girl surviving me running up there."

Lowe withdrew his head and looked back at the carnage in the room behind him. Those that could be stabilised had been, but the hadn't made it. Lowe shuddered to think how much his estate would be billing the Mayor for that little mishap - but the rest of the group would pull through.

More or less. The headless corpse of Markian Ulton lay in a pool of blood next to the dead , his body wrapped in thick chains. At least a was on hand to ensure this was all reported accurately.

Then, despite the morbid scene, a smile suddenly blossomed on Lowe's face. Apparently, all those Progress Points had been good for something, after all.

"It looks like you might have a plan, little man . . ."

"Maybe," Lowe replied. "Let's just say I think we'll need to play a little game of "Two Goblins in a Trenchcoat."

*

Cenorth was getting antsy.

He hadn't been lying to Lowe when he'd said the Council had sent all manner of representations to Cuckoo House. As soon as the chaos at the Celestial Temple had been reported, the shit had well and truly hit the fan.

So much for Leoto Bright and his reputation for keeping things 'subtle' and 'in the shadows.' Cenorth gave a little tight smile at realising he wouldn't be the only one being hauled over the coals for today's succession of fuckups.

But, as soon as the grin appeared, it faded, and a snarl returned to his face. Time was running out if he wanted the opportunity to make it out alive.

"I'm getting bored here, Jana. Tell you what, to speed things up a touch, I'm going to count to three, and then Arebella loses a finger. Then, it'll be a finger every count of five until I run out, and I need to get more creative. You don't want me to get more creative."

There was no response from the other end of the hallway.

"Fine. Be like that. One. Two. Thr . . . "

A figure appeared in the doorway. Markian Ulton, blood covering his face, staggering forward under the weight of his chains. Fucking hell! Lowe hadn't been lying. The had survived a Sword of Justice to the head? That was pretty impressive. He'd have to be more thorough next time.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Markian took a few staggering steps forward and then stopped. Lowe stepped out from behind him to the one side, the taking up a similar position on the other.

"Fine. Let's trade, boss. You send Arebella down, and I'll send him up."

Cenorth shook his head. "No. That's not how this is going to work, Jana. You send me Markian, get your pet to activate the Portal Stone, and then I'll release the girl to you."

Lowe mirrored his dissent. "No can do. I'm not being funny here, boss, but you're not overburdened with credit on the 'honesty' front with me right now. This is the only card I have to play, and I'll be damned if I show you mine before you show me yours."

Cenorth growled in frustration. He hadn't got the time to waste bandying words here. "Fine. Be like that. Is there a particular finger you're not attached to?" He reached down and roughly pulled up Arebella's hand, pressing his knife into her palm. "Or, more to the point, that she's about not to be?"

"No need for that, boss. Look, how about this? On my word of honour, I promise this trade will happen. You send Arebella down, and I'll send your prize back up. None of us at this end will do anything to interfere. Get Arebella to confirm I'm telling the truth if you're worried."

Cenorth paused, grinding his teeth. In an ideal world, he'd like to slip out of here without any further bloodshed. He wasn't a psychopath, and he had no interest in torturing a girl he'd always quite liked. It wasn't her fault she'd ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Look at me," he ordered Arebella, pulling her head around to face him. "Is he telling the truth?"

Arebella's eyes shimmered gold as she accessed her Skill. Trying not to look at the knife Cenorth was holding against her hand, she nodded. "He is."

"So, to confirm - " Cenorth called back down to the corridor, his gaze fixed on Arebella's eyes to ensure she kept her Skill active - "they'll both walk down the corridor simultaneously. You'll ensure the Portal Stone activates so I can get away, and neither you, your friend, nor that gullible bitch with the wind power tries to do anything to stop me. Straight swap, and then I'm off. Right?"

"Fuck you!" Hel shouted back, summoning a Tempest to swirl above her.

"No, thank you. If I were remotely interested, I'd have taken advantage of all the times you threw yourself at me to try to get hold of the file I was so anxious to keep confidential. So, so, so anxious. Look, Lowe, I'm getting old here, and I'm not hearing any agreement to my terms. Do I need to start cutting?"

"I agree with everything you say, boss. We swap them over, the portal opens, and none of the three of us will do a thing to stop you. I promise."

Cenorth watched Arebella's irises flair, and she nodded. "He's telling the truth."

"Well, it seems like it's your lucky day: matey boy cares more about you than he does catching the bad guy. Good for him." Cenorth gestured for Arebella to start walking back towards d'Avec's throne room. "Slowly now. No running. I can kill you just as easily at that end of the corridor as I can here."

Holding her chin high, Arebella started walking slowly but purposefully towards Lowe. The shambling figure of Markian Ulton did the same; the chains in which his body was wrapped made it difficult for him to do much more than awkwardly shuffle forwards.

Despite the pain and the blood dripping from her arms and the tears in her eyes, she beamed at Lowe, conscious as to how his eyes were glued on her, his expression haunted.

It wasn't too long before the two hostages crossed each other, at which stage Arebella felt a strange sensation, like a cold breeze, ripple across her skin. Nevertheless, she did her best to keep looking forward, not wanting to give Cenorth any excuse for making good on his threat.

At the far end of the hallway, Cenorth gestured impatiently for his co-conspirator to move a bit faster. "Come on, come on. We've got to go!" But in response, Markian just continued to stare straight ahead, his feet plodding ponderously forward. "Open the Portal now!"

The giant figure of Latham lumbered up behind Lowe and raised a glowing hand. Cenorth felt the Stone behind him turn from red to green, and he felt himself begin to relax. For the briefest of moments, he considered opening up with a barrage of Blades of Prosecution and simply cutting down everyone at that end of the hallway . . .

But no. It didn't do to get a reputation for being profligate. His backers had Leoto Bright for that sort of work. And then the moment was over, Arebella reached the far end of the corridor, Latham and Hel quickly pulled her back into safety in d'Avec's chamber.

Lowe, though, just stood there. Watching him.

Frowning, Cenorth beckoned towards Markian to hurry up, then stepped forward to grab him by the arm and drag him through the Portal Stone.

However, as he took hold of the sleeve of that man's expensive robe, two notable things happened.

Firstly, Markian's head fell off.

Cenorth gawped as he felt the threads of wind that had been ensuring it floated just above the thick wrappings of chains collapse into nothingness.

Secondly, and this was an equally surprising turn of events for Commander Cenorth, the chains around what he had assumed was Markian's body fell away to release two very angry, very frustrated, very motivated .

Ignoring the shrieks and screams, Lowe watched his former friend's evisceration without blinking.

Some things needed to be witnessed.