The forest felt lighter now, for all that the night hung dead around them. Smaller. What was the worst nature could throw at him, now that he’d survived that?

‘Hmm.’

He glanced up, remembering Thomas’s words about gods and cruel humor. Hordes of monsters failed to descend upon them from the forest canopy, and Neil breathed a sigh of relief from his nose.

By the time the pair of heroes returned to the clearing, the thrill of danger still hadn’t faded, and butterflies continued their shivering dance in the pit of his stomach. The elation of survival, however, was rapidly tarnished by a new emotion.

Indignation.

“Let me get this straight…” Neil said, pacing back and forth along the length of their kill. He couldn’t stand still; the winter storm roaring from his stomach to his ears forbade it.

Instead, he paced—bleeding away the excess energy still coursing through him, and helping him focus long enough to get out coherent sentences. It beat the alternative of rocking back and forth on his heels like a bobblehead on speed, but only barely.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We won’t eat it, we can’t eat it, and we did all this—”

He gestured to the giant corpse with a free hand.

“—For nothing?”

As it turned out, the monster barely made it five steps in their direction before Malcolm shot it in the heart. And it’s neck—in two different places—just to be safe.

Neil could appreciate a thorough job when he saw one, and the hunter was true to his word. He didn’t miss.

Death did nothing to make the beast less imposing. It was still taller than him—and Thomas—by nearly a foot. Neil noted the broken tip of a crossbow bolt in the dirt—and a small but bloody wound on the beast’s nose, near its left eye—with a measure of pride.

Neil’s aim was true, for all the good it did.

Neil’s and Thomas’s job was to shoot it, run away, and hope it gave chase. It was the only way Malcolm could get a good shot at the thing. According to him, at least. Neil trusted the hunter less and less as the night wore on.

“Not nothing,” Malcolm said. “But unless you’ve got a wizard, an alchemist, and an ice-box big enough to hold the bastard; Gristle Pig ain’t on tonight’s menu.”

Neil bit hard on the inside of his cheek.

The older man continued, oblivious to the hero’s swelling anger. “You’ve gotta be stupid, desperate, or rich to eat a thing like that. The meat’s tainted. Best case—it’ll make you sick. Worst case—it’ll make you sick, then you’ll die.”

“Then why—” Neil waved a hand again, not at any particular thing, but because he didn’t have any other way to release his building frustration. “—Did we just risk our lives to kill a fucking groundhog?”

“Money?” The older man shrugged. “Civic duty? The fun of it? Take your pick, kid. It was a monster, you’re a hero, and I’m a hunter. It’s what we do.”

“You’re kidding,” Neil said, exasperated.

“Nope,” the hunter said. “It’s a good thing you were here, though, ‘cause now I get to be paid by a steward.”

“Well that’s cool for you,” Neil squinted at the hunter. “Do we get anything out of this?”

“Experience?” Suggested Thomas, though even he looked dubious.

“Don’t even get me started.” Neil gave him a flat look.

“I don’t know what you’ll get,” the hunter shrugged. “Just make sure you tell your steward about this, yeah? I can’t handle the guild paperwork right now, but if we get him involved, I won’t have to, get it?”

“Not really!” Neil threw his arms in the air.

“Then stop worrying about it,” Malcolm rolled his eyes. “It’s a tax-incentive kinda thing. All you gotta know is that we did a good deed. ‘That good enough for you, hero?”

Neil folded his arms and stopped, staring at the older man. “Not especially, no.”

“Learn to like it,” The hunter said, voice haggard and breathy. “If you don’t like what we did here tonight, you’re in the wrong profession, hero.”

For the entire walk back to camp, Neil thought about the hunter’s words, and the way he called Neil a hero.

He wasn’t sure he liked it.

…

…

“What’s up?” June raised an eyebrow, “You two look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Said Thomas, in a voice so dry that even Neil was impressed, before plopping down at the campfire.

The remaining heroes waited up for them. Firelight kissed their respective faces, all of which looked haggard and good-humored. He smiled brightly at them, noting the six bedrolls around the shared little campsite.

“Really though,” June’s attention flickered from Thomas to Neil. “You two okay?”

“Define ‘okay?’” Neil tilted his head to one side, voice high.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

June’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she blinked slowly at him. Something in his smile didn’t comfort her.

“We’re fine,” Neil rolled his eyes. “Just a little bit of classic male bonding, a little bit of running for our lives—Thomas peed his pants—you know the drill.”

“I didn’t.” Said Thomas, voice—and pants—dry as a bone.

Neil smirked and pressed on. “…and we were bait for a giant monster. We made for really good bait, actually. You might say we—”

“I told you on the way over here,” Thomas interrupted. “There’s no way of telling that joke that doesn’t sound stupid, no matter how much you workshop it.”

Neil turned to the larger hero, not breaking eye contact as he spoke. “We… Were… Master… Bait.”

Thomas looked at June, eyes dead and devoid of laughter. “He’s been tinkering with that joke for the last half-hour. It wasn’t funny the first time he said it, and it’s not funny now.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Neil waved a hand. “It’s not that I’m doing it to be funny, I’m doing it because I have to—because I need to. We were bait, Tom. The universe wouldn’t be aligned if someone didn’t make that joke. I’m a mere vessel for the will of a higher power.”

“You’re literally psychotic,” said Thomas, voice monotone. “And just because we almost died together, that doesn’t mean you get to call me ‘Tom.’ My name is Thomas, Neil. Thomas.”

This was a sore point for Thomas. Neil didn’t know why, it just was. Asking him about it only made him more annoyed.

“Oh, boo.” Neil stuck his tongue out at him.

“You two sound… tired,” said Peter, sitting cross-legged on his bedroll. “Why don’t you take a load off? Have a snack—we’ve got jerky and berries for dinner.”

“Jerky.” Thomas lay back in his bedroll, groaning in a way that Neil wasn’t sure was entirely appropriate.

“Berries,” Neil said, a second after Thomas. “Please.”

Peter gestured to two burlap sacks sitting by the fire. “Help yourselves.”

Neil did so, checking each of their contents, and dropped one on Thomas’s supine form. Bright as the campfire was, it didn’t offer enough light for him to see what sorts of berries he was eating, and he didn’t particularly care. They were sweet, and tart, and they gave his jaw an outlet for the final thrills of energy coursing through him.

“Back up a minute,” Jackie frowned, kneeling in front of the fire, dark eyes cast glinting amber in its light. “Did you say you were bait for a giant monster? That you almost died?”

Neil smirked. “Not just bait, I said the we were—”

“Don’t,” spoke Thomas, rummaging through the sack of jerky. “I swear to every god, Neil, don’t.”

“Pff,” he rolled his eyes. “Yes, we were bait, and no, we didn’t almost die. Probably. Maybe.”

Jackie’s fire-lit eyes danced wildly to the tune of the crackling flame, and her expression stilled. She stared at him.

Neil’s shoulders rose in defense. “Okay, at the moment we thought we were in trouble, but it turned out fine. Malcolm’s a really good shot with that bow.”

“Alright,” she said. “New rule: if you feel the urge to go off into the woods with a dangerous stranger… don’t. Fair?”

“Fair.” Said Thomas, through a mouth full of cured meat.

Neil popped another berry, speaking as he chewed. “It turned out fine, guys. Ernest vouched for him, and… I mean, all-in-all, we had a pretty good time. Not something I wanna do too often, but I’m glad I did it, you know? I feel like I learned something about myself. I don’t know what, but something.”

“I’m glad it all turned out okay for you. This time,” Jackie’s expression remained unchanged, though the menace in her eyes receded. “And who’s Ernest? Another hunter?”

Neil’s mouth stretched into a taut half-smile. “You could call him that, yeah.”

June raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s a ten-year-old, dude.”

“A child lured you into the woods?” Jackie also raised an eyebrow at him.

Neil pursed his lips and wondered why everyone but him could do that. He never mastered that skill, for all that he tried. He took a deep breath and spoke from the diaphragm, injecting tenor and depth into his voice.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, a child did lure me into the woods. And he did it under the guise of getting me hunting-pointers from an experienced woodsman. And maybe I was misled—I got the impression that there was some kind of government payout involved—but do I regret it?”

He looked at the tired faces scattered around the fire. He raised a hand, pinching his thumb and forefinger together. He then squinted at the hand, and widened the space between the fingers by an inch.

“Only a little bit.”

“Neil,” said Jackie, voice and expression falling flat. “You’re not helping your case right now.”

“That’s fair,” he splayed his arms out wide, giving the larger woman a glowing smile. “I’m just happy to be alive, to be honest. I’m pretty sure I’m high on endorphins, but there’s a decent chance I’m in shock, you know?”

He threw another berry in his mouth, chewing without tasting. “Weird, huh?”

“That’s not weird, Neil,” Jackie said. “That’s bad. Are you okay?”

Her tone was low and breathy, the shadows on her face pooling into sunken rings around her eyes, rendering the bronze cast of her face into something brittle.

“He’s fine,” Thomas spoke loudly as he gnawed on a piece of jerky. “I’ve seen people in shock before, and this ain’t it. He’s just drunk on adrenaline.”

“I’m electrified,” Neil corrected, waving a berry at the other man. It had a more-than-passing resemblance to a cherry tomato but tasted closer to an under-ripe strawberry. “Seriously, it feels like someone plugged a car battery into my spine; I feel like a god.”

“Remember what we said about hubris?” Thomas shot a pointed look at Neil before heaving a sigh. “We’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Good,” said Jackie, attention setting on him with hawk-like intensity. “You’re sure?”

“Yes?” He shrugged, wiggling his body into a more comfortable position on his bed roll. “Even if I'm wrong, there's not a whole lot we can do about it now, is there? Nothing we could do that a good night’s rest couldn't do better, I mean.”

“Oh,” said Neil, raising both eyebrows at the other man. “Look who decided to be the reasonable one, for once. What's with the change, Mr. Charges-into-danger-with-a-smile-on-his-face?”

“Chalk it up to a rough night.” The hero set down his bag of jerky and rubbed his eyes.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to see you taking things seriously, dude.” Neil smiled.

“Wish I could say the same to you, dude.” Thomas muttered, rolling to his side, back facing the fire.

Soon after, the fire was doused, and all the heroes slept.