As he began to descend the stairs, he suddenly realized how tired and hungry the body he wore was. The human had been right about that too.

Malachite followed close behind. Why was he so eager?

He heard more footsteps behind the three of them. Some of the others were coming to bear witness, or perhaps enjoy free entertainment.

The basement of the mansion was large and well lit, concrete columns set at intervals to hold the ceiling up. A good sized area was fenced off, with gates on opposing sides. The fencing could be climbed or vaulted – unless someone was trying to kill you while you did so. It would effectively prevent retreat from an uncrippled opponent.

Emerald spoke aloud to the empty air, since he wasn’t sure if he should be addressing Malachite or the mayor. “Shouldn’t we have some sort of medical care available?”

The mayor shrugged. “I think one party or the other has to be eliminated, don’t you?”

Emerald felt a few memories coming back. “I seem to recall that my previous host was still alive after killing his rival. If medical care had been available, he might have lived.”

The mayor shrugged again. “We can hardly bring a human doctor in here. Keeping our secret until the humans are ready is paramount.”

Jake said, “Maybe one of us should at least learn first aid. We don’t have to do this today.”

Emerald said, “No, we don’t.”

Malachite or his host said, “Are you trying to back out of this? Would you rather discuss it with the River? We’re going to talk to the River again tomorrow, and lying or avoiding the fact that we’re in excess of phase two contact protocols won’t really be practical.”

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Emerald shook his head. “No.”

He started to walk in the direction of one of the gates, but Firkin stopped him. “You need to get a longsword first. And give me the gun.”

So he knew about the gun. It would have been comforting to keep it as a last resort. Presumably Firkin’s elder Sapphire was in better shape than Emerald, with all his memories and senses intact. He could have sensed the gun, or both of them might have been involved with the attempt to kill him earlier and gotten a report back.

Silently Emerald offered him the gun, handle first. Then he was allowed to choose between two identical seeming longswords. He walked towards the further gate, more slowly than before.

The human spoke again. “This is obviously a setup, but I think I can still win it for us if you give me control. Just because longsword fighting isn’t common nowadays on Earth, that doesn’t mean there’s nobody who studies and practices it. I don’t think you were humanoid when you were mortal, before you became an Elder. Let me fight for us and I think we can both survive.”

Emerald’s feet continued moving, though he hesitated inwardly.

“And I give you my word I will call you back into control after the battle is over.”

Was that word good? Emerald’s own word might not have been. Humans were not yet part of the Eightfold, not even junior members. Potentially they might become so, but until then they were little more than clever animals. Yet this one had knowledge that might apply, and had been right several times when Emerald had been wrong.

He tried to figure out what the human might know, tried to remember his memories from his brain. He had to be careful though, since if he became the human without intending it, the human could use that as an excuse not to call him back. But yes, there were people who practiced with ancient weapons. One group was the Society for Creative Anachronism.

Suddenly Joey grinned, an expression that might confuse any watchers who didn’t know how things were between himself and Emerald. Joey was in control again.

Malachite was already standing near his gate. Joey addressed his host. “Hey John! Are you an SCA member by any chance?”

John said, “No time to chat now, but you can say what you want once we pass the gates. Of course, it’s too late to change your mind then.”

Not wanting to encourage his opponent by showing fear, Joey walked through his gate without slowing or hesitating, and let the gate swing shut behind him. There was a quiet click as the latch caught.