Rachel stood on the edge of the dock, watching the two boats sailing out down the Seine, carrying the two troublemakers, Thio and Belinda, back home.

Good riddance.

Though they’d been placid during their confinement, she didn’t forget the events that had led up to that moment. Didn’t forget that the woman had attacked Master Lilia. Injured her, no less. The fawning act the woman had put on ever since, gushing over how amazing Lord Reud was and how she wanted nothing more than to serve him, was just that in her eyes. An act. People didn’t just switch their allegiance on a whim, in her experience.

Then again, it was Lord Reud and Master Lilia. They had quite the effect on people.

Gesturing for the yellow-clad skeleton-guards around her to return to their patrols, Rachel turned and walked back towards the city proper. Commanding the skeletons with sign instead of word had really grown on her, the little language they’d developed becoming more complex by the day. Few beyond herself had learned any of it, though a group of children in the Farhaven district had taken to trying to chat with the skeleton-guards stationed there, and were working hard to interpret the responses the undead gave.

It was quite cute, watching them argue about what a particular sign meant.

Rachel waved at the young men of the watch stationed at the city gate, pleased to see they seemed focused. It had been Lord Reud’s idea to try to give the people of the city more things they could do, given how many occupations had been taken over by the undead. Being spotters on the gate wasn’t a paid job, but the volunteers of the watch didn’t seem to mind, taking to their role with pride.

Having something of value to do with your time was important.

Rachel certainly felt that. Helping manage the city had kept her busy for a while, but management had never been her passion. Rowan and his team of administrators were far more qualified for the job than she was. No, what she’d found value in was the guard. Protecting people, walking through the city and seeing their smiling faces, that was what gave her days meaning.

And having a skeleton army at her beck and call sure felt great.

Though… her forces had been much diminished of late. Bo was out with Lord Reud and Master Lilia all the time these days, training or helping with the young mages’ education. Lec had just left with Belinda, bound to the woman by the grisly surgery Lord Reud and Aleida had performed.

With her two strongest fighters gone, her guard numbered a round three-dozen, stationed evenly throughout the city. Despite their small numbers, the black cloth wrap and garish yellow-grey tabards they wore allowed them to stand out in any crowd, making them seem far more numerous than they really were. That had been her own initiative, to give everyone a sense of the presence of Lord Reud’s protection, and to serve as a warning to all that would try to threaten it.

A crash in the distance cut through the familiar buzz of the city.

Instantly, Rachel was on alert. It had come from the Farhaven district, not far from her current position. Another crash sounded, a moment after. It might have been her imagination, but she thought the air in the city shifted, growing more fearful.

That spurred her into action.

Placing a hand on her sword hilt to stop the scabbard tangling in her legs, Rachel burst into a sprint.

“Move! City guard coming through!” She shouted, waving an arm at the people standing in the street. Looking surprised, they parted, letting her run unimpeded. Skidding around the corner, Rachel burst into the Farhaven district.

The broken remains of two skeletons, clad in the bright yellow tabard of the guards, lay scattered across the street, their component bones scraping slowly along the stone to reform. Very slowly. Someone had taken the time to break each of their bones in numerous places, and then scattered the remains of each far apart.

This wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t the work of an amateur. This was someone who knew the skeletons of the city, and how to fight them.

This was expert work.

Rachel's sword rung as she whipped it from its sheath, eyes darting around for any sign of the perpetrators. The street was empty, the people that would normally have been milling around it conspicuously absent. Not that she could blame them. If someone had attacked the guards, it was no wonder everyone had made themselves scarce.

Another crash sounded from one of the buildings ahead of her, then a scream. Rachel threw herself into a sprint, not hesitating for even a moment. Yes, she had no backup. Yes, they’d already beaten the two skeleton-guards stationed here. But she’d promised herself she’d protect these people, and that scream meant someone was in danger.

She wasn’t going to stand aside now.

Rachel burst through a door into a tight corridor running through the middle of one of the shared houses, following the sounds of the commotion. The doors to the rooms here had been broken in, the wooden remains lying in splintered chunks across the ground. A glimpse of the interior of a room almost made her pause, but she forced the thought out of her mind with an iron resolve.

There was no time to think about the corpse she’d seen in there. Someone living needed her help.

The other end of the corridor opened onto a small square, alleys radiating out from it to various workshops and storage rooms. A collection of buildings not designated for housing, but for whatever the residents of the district desired. The once-green grass here was spattered with red-brown spots, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood. Another body lay slumped against a wall, its eyes empty, lifeless.

Rachel gritted her teeth. Whoever did this would pay.

“Please!” A voice shouted, coming from one of the buildings radiating from the small square. “I really don’t know!”

“You want me to cut off another? Or are you gonna talk?” A different voice growled.

“Oh gods, please…”

Rachel lifted her blade and charged the building, kicking the door open and bursting in. It was a workshop, it seemed, a few small wooden figurines standing on a shelf beside the door. The floor was covered in spirals of wood shavings, and a series of chisels, lathes, and clamps hung in neat rows on hooks hammered into the walls. The room itself was filled with figures, huge men, their skin covered in spiralling tattoos.

An all-too familiar group of men.

“You!” Rachel spat, skidding to a halt and dropping into a defensive stance.

The monster slaying band was here, in force this time. The remaining seven of them, their leader included, if Rachel’s count was correct.

Which meant she was hopelessly outnumbered.

“Well, look who it is.” The leader of the band said, standing up from where he’d been bent over a smaller man, dropping the bloody saw he was holding. “Telac’s whore turned captain of the guard.”

“Fuck you, Adrian.” Rachel spat out.

“Not interested.” He sneered, before turning to the men filling the room. “Kill her.”

Rachel struck first, her blade shooting forward like a bolt from a crossbow. She took the closest man in the band through the upper arm, flesh parting easily below the razor edge of her weapon. He fell back, roaring with agony, the weapon he’d carried dropping to clatter on the ground.

Spinning, she dropped low and lashed out again, just barely missing another man as he jumped back, rising back up just in time to deflect a blow that would have taken her in the throat. The impact knocked her back a step, numbing vibrations reverberating down her arm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she flicked her eyes between the men stalking towards her, trying to watch all of them at once.

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But there were just so many of them, what could she do against such awful odds?

“Drop your weapons, and you will be spared!” She shouted. “More guards will be here in moments!”

That triggered a round of chuckles from the band.

“More skeletons? We stomped them into pieces.” One of the band spat. “They don’t scare us, girl.”

“Yeh, we’ve already killed two, they were nothing.”

“Why don’t you lay down your weapon, and we’ll treat you real nice.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes. These men thought they’d destroyed the skeletons, killed them. Which meant they had no idea the two they’d attacked were reforming as they spoke, the creatures sending out the silent signals they used to communicate to summon others to their position. So, she just had to stall long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Easy, right?

Yeh… easy.

“Lord Reud won’t forgive you for this, he’ll chase you to the ends of the world. Your only hope is surrender.” She tried again.

“Ha!” Adrian said, pushing through his men. “Your pathetic lord did nothing to retaliate against us before, why would he change his tune now.”

“Because you’ve killed people here now!” Rachel shouted back.

“We’re just retrieving what rightfully belongs to Aldsville. Your lord stepped out of line when he seized little Rory here.” Adrian gestured to the man behind him, and Rachel finally realized who he was. The smuggler she’d captured in her first raid on the band's actions. The small man lay on the ground, sobbing and clutching a mutilated hand that oozed blood.

“What are you… but he was working with you!”

“Oh, little Rory here decided he wasn’t going to return Erhart’s lockbox, and all the funds still within. Quite the princely sum, in fact.”

“So that’s what this is all about, mere money!” Rachel spat, feeling even more disgusted with their actions.

“It’s not mere money. It’s money.” Adrian said, looking offended. “Only a rich bitch like you would ever say something so stupid.”

“No matter the sum, why would you risk going against the entire city? Surely that isn’t worth it?”

“Ha, this place is as good as dead, given what’s coming for it.”

One of the other men piped up, his eyes fixed on the slowly swaying point of Rachel’s sword. “Hey boss, we should move before-”

That’s when the smuggler made an attempt for the door. Throwing himself to his feet, he scrambled across the shaving-littered floor, darting between the men filling the room.

A stupid move, really.

With a startled yell, one of the band lashed out, his blade flicking out in a shining arc at the hunched figure barging past him. An arc that caught the man in the shoulder and ended somewhere in the middle of his sternum.

“Gods, Mal, the hell you done now!” Adrian yelled as the smuggler fell gurgling to the ground, hopping back to avoid the blood gushing from the rent in the man's body.

“Little shit surprised me.” The man grumbled.

“Moron, now we got to comb this place the hard way. If we don’t get it before the Seekers arrive, then it's coming out of your pay. Gods, just kill her and let's get on with it already.”

And that signalled Rachel’s reprieve was over.

The band fanned out, forming a semicircle that slowly closed, with her at the centre. A deadly arc of weapons, all pointing at her. Rachel knew her only hope was to break through.

So she charged.

A handful of woodshavings, collected from a worktop as they’d talked, preceded her charge, the chips catching the man in his eyes and making him flinch. Just enough of an opening for her to knock his blade away.

But not enough of an opening to let her strike back.

The man staggered back, a hand raised to brush the shavings from his eyes, the other swinging his sword back around to keep her at bay. Rachel struck his blade up high with a great ringing crash, charging past him. Her goal was to escape the encirclement, so she was going to focus on that.

On the other side of the man, she kicked a table across to clatter onto the ground, putting an obstacle between herself and the rest of the band. That created a nice little corridor, so she’d only have to face down one man at a time.

Gods, she hoped that reinforcements would arrive soon.

Rachel sprung back in, meeting the man charging towards her in the middle. Her blade flashed down to ring against the man’s, the impact sending more numbing vibrations up her arm. The man slammed himself forward into her, almost knocking her off her feet. She skidded on the wood shavings littering the floor, swiping her blade in a wild attack that hit nothing, but did stop the man’s advance long enough for her to regain her footing.

Blowing a hair that had escaped her bun from her face, Rachel attacked again, blade coming in low this time. The man smirked and kicked out, obviously aiming for her chest with his superior reach.

Exactly what she’d hoped he’d do.

Dropping to one knee, Rachel halted her forward momentum and tilted back, sending her blade arcing up that little bit faster than the man had been expecting. Its tip caught him in the back of his thigh, tearing through leggings and flesh alike. With a roar of pain, he fell to the side, crashing into a table and sending a collection of half-finished statues tumbling to the floor.

There was no time to savour her victory, though.

Another man charged forward in the fallen one's place, the others weaving their way around the obstacles that cut them off from her. It would only be a matter of time before she was surrounded once more, and that would spell her doom. These men were good, really good. Strong, and with excellent combat sense. Years of being the only ones to fight chimeras, without any magic no less, had drilled that into them. Honestly, the only thing keeping her alive was their ongoing mistake of underestimating what she could do.

But that certainly wouldn’t last.

Flicking up a desperate block to catch an attack that would have killed her, Rachel backpedalled, trying to create the space she needed to catch her breath and to try to think of a way out of this closing trap she found herself in.

That’s when she saw the smuggler stand.

Blood still poured down his front, flooding from a great gash that nearly severed his left arm. His skin was deathly pale, his eyes wide and unfocused, his head hanging to one side. A walking corpse if she’d ever seen one, a sight that would once have filled her with horror.

Now it just filled her with elation. That was Lord Reud’s work.

He’d come for her.

Rachel darted back in to attack, her urge to fight renewed by the sight. As she moved, the smuggler moved too, throwing himself at the closest of the band, the two of them falling to the ground. Rachel threw out a frantic flurry of strikes, screaming in the man’s face in an attempt to throw off his concentration.

A technique that had been very effective on her when Master Lilia had demonstrated it.

The man flinched back, and Rachel pushed forward, smacking his blade away and driving her blade straight through his stomach. The man stiffened and looked down, almost uncomprehendingly, his eyes wide in horror. Not missing a beat, Rachel ripped the blade out in an arc, a spray of blood spattering onto her legs as she did so. The man fell to his knees, and Rachel shoved him aside, his head smashing into a table with a loud thud.

Only for Adrian to spring over the body and smash down onto her, dagger raised in one hand.

Rachel went down hard under the unexpected weight, her back slamming into the floor and driving the wind from her lungs. Still, she had the presence of mind to strike at his fist, sending the blade he held flying off above them. Her next punch drove into his side, only for an elbow to take her across the jaw, smashing her head back into the ground.

Pushing through the nausea and dizziness threatening to claim her mind, Rachel forced her arms up into a guard, striking out at the man straddling her waist. Adrian rained blows down on her, but with her pressing up against him, he couldn’t get the leverage he needed to make them true killing strikes.

They still hurt like hell, though.

“Just give up, you nosey bitch.” He growled, smashing down on her.

She didn’t even deign that with a response.

Kicking her hips up, she jolted him forward just enough to give her some leverage, landing a punch of her own right in his nose as he unbalanced over her head.

And then she slammed a knee up into his crotch.

A pained wheeze burst from his mouth, and she struck again, slamming her knee up with as much force as she could muster. Then, pushing with all her strength, she tipped him off her and sprung up, glancing around for her sword to finish the bastard off. Her sword glinted against one wall, just where it’d fallen when he’d jumped her. She just had to-

And then everything seemed to… stop. A ringing filled her ears, a detached numbness filled her mind.

Her body wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t she moving? It was hard to think, but she wanted to fight. Wanted to keep struggling. So why wasn’t she?

And then she glanced down.

A blade was growing from her chest.

That wasn’t right… right?

The blade wrenched its way out of her, and suddenly she was falling, the ground reaching up to meet her with body shaking force. Something in that impact resurrected her sense of feeling.

And gods, she wished it hadn’t.

Unbelievable agony exploded through her, emanating from her chest. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing but a wet gurgle came out. A wetness poured from her, soaking her tabard and covering the hands she’d placed to her chest to keep the life-fluid in.

That was bad, right. A wound like that… it would be difficult to heal, right? Maybe Aleida could-

A dark boot shot down out of the sky and crushed the thoughts from her head.

Another stomp, and it all went black.