The smell down here’s making me uncomfortable. It shouldn’t, the work we do I’ve routinely been in much more unpleasant places than this, but … I’m not sure, perhaps it’s just all the different elements mixed together that just works my nerves so much. It’s not just rot and mildew and damp, you can find that in most cellars. There’s something else, something I suspect comes from the dozens, perhaps hundreds of other bodies that can be found crammed in the unpleasantly poky rooms surrounding us. Not just the stink of stale sweat, urine and faeces. Something more acrid, and more potent, something that the predator locked away deep in my ancestral blood stirs some to pick up on. It’s fear.

It's certainly not doing my mood any favours. When we came back I was already worked up and edgy, and what I discovered when we arrived made it significantly worse. The fact I haven’t already tried to rip Vandryss’ throat out with my talons is a very hollow testament to my patience.

I can’t even say that we went into that fight without fair warning, she told us plenty about the people we’d be facing, their capabilities, the numbers we’d be facing, the various assets they had on their side. The fact that they had a bloody golem with them gave me particular pause, and certainly didn’t go down any better with the others as we were prepping our first attempt, but we didn’t respond much better to the fact that they had two Silver Order mages with them too. That probably made me more uncomfortable than anything else she told us.

I’ve only actually found myself on the opposing side to an Order wizard once in my career, and that was an ugly experience. He was the single most accomplished spellcaster I have ever encountered in my life before, good enough to make Riveck look like a charlatan village market conman. He died bloody hard, I nearly didn’t survive the fight, and two others in my company at the time weren’t as lucky. Worse, though, was having to cover it up after. Killing a Silver Order mage … that’s a whole other level of dangerous in its own right, no self-respecting merc needs that amount of trouble in their life. I still find myself looking over my shoulder on occasion after that kill.

So when we found ourselves facing off against another one near the start of this latest fight, part of me wanted to just back off and call it a loss. Instead Ix got in behind them and brained them before they knew he was there, and then I just reacted. In truth I’m amazed he actually listened to me when I shouted at him to stop as he was bending down to just cut the wizard’s throat while they were down, but he did. Then Vandryss got a look at the young wizard’s face and her expression gave me chills.

She took hold of the unconscious body and then grabbed Tavarrat, telling her to port them both back to their base on the spot. The hunger in her voice as she said it almost made me sick, but after she looked up and said to me: “You have a job to do, I suggest you do it while you have a decent chance.” they were both gone before I could respond. I felt worse about that than anything else that happened out there on the Heath.

So when we got back the first thing I did was track that creepy bitch down with the intention of hashing it out with her. A lot happened tonight we didn’t sign up for, but every one of us becoming a potential target for reprisal from the Order is a step too far for me.

Except that she’s already put whatever her plan is into action. When we got back she was already torturing the poor kid, at least what I could hear, going from the sounds coming from the relevant cell. Jammund filled us in on more of the details that Vandryss had decided to omit prior to now, since given this latest development he thought it more relevant to us. Such as the fact that they’ve already had one particularly famous Silver Order wizard in their custody for a few weeks, so the damage was already irreparable.

Darion bloody Foxtail. Fuck … even Kuth had heard of him. Turns out the young wizard we just abducted is his child, just a few years out of the Academy in Bavat and apparently a genuine chip off the old block. As Jammund puts it, we were: “Incredibly lucky to take ‘em down so easy.” Or, the way I see it, Ixen sucker-punched the poor kid and dropped us in it, and Vandryss just made it infinitely worse.

Kuth’s as pissed about this as I am, he worked with the Order a couple of times when he was first coming up and he says a lot of them are really good people. Suret’s definitely concerned about it too – you’d be hard pressed to tell if you hadn’t learned to read her deeply hidden subtleties over the years, but she’s definitely quieter than usual, and I can see the worry in her eyes. She can handle going head-to-head with a fucking golem without breaking a sweat, but this is definitely working her nerves.

Riveck’s mostly just drunk, but then as soon as we were all back he begged a bottle and then he tore the stopper out with his teeth and downed half the wine in one long pull. It’s strong stuff, too, but that didn’t stop him, and it takes a lot to put him to sleep these days, I’ve found. Then it was just a case of getting Trouble together enough again to fix him.

Trouble, yeah … gods, she’s taken a hit, emotionally. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her like this, she’s always been a little too good for this line of work, if I’m honest, but clearly something happened while we were all separated that’s got her all kinds of rattled now. When Riv ported back last with her she just sat there for the first few minutes, staring down at the length of her impressively long sword’s naked blade, now painted with blood, I saw. A whole lot of it, in fact – the length of the blade is now the colour of dark rust since it’s largely dried. She wouldn’t say a word, wouldn’t look away from the blade, she just sat there, shaking, her eyes wide and about the most haunted I’ve ever seen them.

At first I just tried to talk her out of this trance, eventually full-on shouting in her face, snapping my clawed fingers right under her nose, but that didn’t do anything. Eventually I got frustrated enough and started to shake her, but that didn’t have any better effect that the shouting. So I slapped her. Genuinely wound back a good, hard hit, and smacked the back of my hand across her face hard enough to make her head rock back. That did it. She cried out and hissed in shock and gave me a hot, wide-eyed glare, and then she was back with us again. So I asked her, very politely, if she could perhaps have a try at healing Riveck’s arm, if it wasn’t too much trouble, and she started blushing before she apologised and set to work.

Of course, a side effect of that was that her healing sobered him back up some while she was at it, which I would’ve found hilariously funny any other time. Instead I just got him another bottle while he finished off the one he’d already started, and went to confront Vandryss. Only to run into Jammund instead.

Now I’m back with the others, while he leans back against the wall of this cluttered back room that’s been set aside for the business or downtime of whoever’s working down here at any one time. There are a few wooden chairs set around the place, a table in the corner with a variety of bottles and boxes of food and drink on it, and a wood-fired stove it with a simple brass kettle hung beside it on a stand. I wouldn’t call it cosy, but I suppose it’ll do for our needs, and it’s working out well enough at least as a makeshift infirmary for Trouble while she tends to Riv’s wounds. At least as much as she’s capable of now she’s as aware of the troubling twist as the rest of us …

Jammund's none too happy about this business, that much is clear, but I get the impression it’s not weighing half so badly on him as it is the rest of us. Even Tavarrat seems more shaken by it, standing by the door with her arms folded tight across her chest and her chin dipped right down while her shoulders are almost drawn right up to her ears. The look on her face is almost as dark as Kuth’s, I’ve noticed.

Perhaps she’s as perturbed about having two members of the illustrious institution she was once a member of being tortured in the same place she’s holed up in. Or perhaps it’s the grievous bitch who’s doing the torturing. Either way it’s gnawing at her, that much is clear.

I can’t stop pacing, the situation’s just making me restless. I know I should settle down in one of the chairs and lay my gear out in front of me, start my usual after-battle maintenance on my sword, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Normally it does wonders for calming me down, but right now …

“How you feelin’?” Kuth gives me a bit of a start now as he steps up to my side as I draw close to him, essentially intercepting me before I can pass him by. My hands go up almost on their own, mostly just to ward him off, but I still feel my fighter’s reflexes start to spark. He just takes hold of my wrists with surprising gentleness and holds me in place, not forcing me to stay but urging all the same. I don’t throw him off, either – I’m definitely stronger than him but I just let him take the lead.

“I’m …” I let a heavy sigh go, trying not to grit my teeth and failing. “I don’t like this. Maybe you were right before. We should’ve run while we had the chance.”

“No, you were right. We were already stuck.” He gives my wrists the gentlest squeeze, taking a breath. “I wanna know how you’re feeling. Right now. If you’re all right. If I gotta be worried.”

That has me frowning. “I’m … Kuth, I’m not about to break. We’ve been through worse than this before and I’ve held up.”

“No, we been in scary, messy shit before, and some of it’s been cuz we got fucked over, but we were just fighting our way out of it. This is … c’mon, Dram. Y’know what I mean. The second you met that creepy bitch you been on edge, an’ I ain’t seen you relax since. I’m starting to worry ‘bout you.” He leans closer, and I have to bend a little so he can rest his forehead against mine. “Don’t forget you got folk you can rely on in this.”

“Yes, I know. Of course I do …” I let out another sigh, stepping back a little so I can take a look around at the others, at least the ones that are here with us now. “I’m the one who’s supposed to worry, Kuth. I’m supposed to be in charge, so this was my call. Meaning that the fallout’s on me too.”

He follows my gaze now, to where Trouble’s finally taking her hands away from Riveck’s arm as he lets his head settle back against the wall he’s slumped against. He’s cradling the bottle in his good arm, and it already looks like it’s mostly just dregs left in it. He’s looks a good deal more sanguine now that when we first arrived, so he’s likely got a very good buzz on now, even after Trouble’s worked her god magic.

“That was definitely not your fault.” He gives another insistent little squeeze. “They’re clearly just better than we expected.”

Finally slipping my arms free, I reach up and brush my hair from my face, unable to keep the troubled frown from my face as I turn back. “No, not really. This time the intelligence was entirely on the money, they’re definitely everything we were told they are. Particularly their leader …” I let out another sigh, setting my jaw again. “Bloody hell, she’s a demon with a sword. I’m not convinced I could actually beat her if we cross swords again. Certainly not with that sword.”

“So she really is –”

“Oh yes, she’s definitely Edhril Shoon’s daughter.” I let a little chuckle go, but there’s no mirth to it, it’s mostly just bitter. “Any other time I’d be thrilled by the idea of meeting her. But I actually have to come up with a way to kill her.”

Kuth doesn’t reply to that, not for a long beat, watching me very carefully now. He’s quite simple in some ways, a creature of passion and instinct over real thoughtfulness much of the time, but he’s definitely not stupid, he can be quite sharp when he manages to take the time to think about things. “You’re starting to agree with Trouble, ain’t you? You think we might be on the wrong side o’ this fight.”

My frown deepens at that. “Perhaps. But even if I do, there’s nothing I can do about it now, is there?”

His brows shoot up as he gives me a look. “There ain’t?”

I try not to hiss at him for that question, knowing how loaded it is. I’m not prepared to get into that argument, not right now. Then I see Trouble finally getting to her feet again and just reach out, resting a hand on his shoulder now. “Just … might be wise to keep that kind of thinking to ourselves for now, don’t you think?”

He frowns, and for a moment I think he might argue, but finally he just closes his mouth again. He still gives me a very complex look, though. Something tells me we’re not done with this conversation.

Simply giving his shoulder a good squeeze, I step away, then pause, looking him over for another, electric moment. Finally I let out another sigh and step back, giving him a quick but strong kiss before pulling away, leaving him to blink in surprise with an audible gasp as he tries to reach up and grab onto me. But I’m already moving away, intent on catching Trouble now.

As she takes a cloth from one of the various pockets in her layered, voluminous robes and shakes it open, Trouble heads toward the table, but the whole way she seems like she’s moving in a trance, not really concentrating on anything right now. Even when she gives the bundled fabric a good snap, it seems like something done on instinct, her eyes still distant as they fail to focus on anything. Finally she starts wiping her hands and wrists, and I’m a moment realising they’re heavily painted with blood, much like her sword. I wonder how much of that is actually even Riv’s.

“Trouble?” She doesn’t respond as I draw close, even when I say her name. I step into her side and lay my hand on her shoulder. “Trouble. Are you with me?”

For a moment she still doesn’t respond, just idly scrubbing at her fingers. She stripped off her ubiquitous kid gloves sometime after we arrived, preparing to heal Riveck, and I realise now they’re shaking a little. Then she blinks and looks up at me, and she looks every bit as haunted as she did when she first arrived, even if she has found her focus again. “Um … honestly, boss? I really couldn’t say.”

Trying not to frown again, I breathe in shallow so it doesn’t show so much. “How is he?”

For a moment she doesn’t seem to understand the question, her brows furrowing, but finally sighs: “Well on his way to drinking himself into unconsciousness, but I think he’s earned it this time.”

I have to smile at that, rueful as it is. “I really can’t argue with you there.”

“He was smart to leave the darts in. One of them was buried awfully close to the artery. Pulling it out could have hurt him much worse.” Her frown deepens as she licks her lips. “I repaired it the best I could, but his arm’s likely to be pretty stiff for a few days. He won’t be at his best.”

“Is he ever?” I venture, mostly hoping to lighten the mood now.

She doesn’t laugh like I hoped for, instead just looking down at the floor, and that haunted look is getting worse. “I … think I killed one of them.”

Oh hell … yeah, I thought that might’ve been it. I try not to sigh as I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Trouble … you know what we’ve been hired to do, right?”

When she looks up this time her eyes are wet, and her lips tight. “I know, I … I tried. She came at me and I reacted. It was a fight, and things happened that were beyond my control. But then …” Her lip’s starting to wobble, her eyes brimming as she looks up at me, her expression almost pleading now. “I didn’t even mean to … I … it just …”

Taking hold of both of her arms as roughly as I dare, I turn her to face me directly, leaning forward so I can get as face to face with her as I can given our significant height difference, and give her a good hard stare. “Trouble, that’s enough. We were hired to do a job, and we’re doing it. You did what you were supposed to. So you did the right thing. More or less.”

She just looks back at me, clearly shaken, her eyes wide, and a single tear rolls right down her cheek to drip from her chin. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes. She looks so lost, though … I want to hug her, I really do, but this is not the time. I need her strong.

Growling, I look down at the floor and take a deep breath, composing my thoughts as I search for the right words. Finally I look up, and squeeze a little tighter now, narrowing my eyes. “You remember when we first me?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

For a moment she just blinks, her brows creasing again as she just looks at me. As if she hasn’t understood me. I’m about to ask again when she looks down, then back up again, and finally manages to stutter out: “I … I w-was … it was in that tavern. In Tuulst. That man –”

“He thought you were easy pickings. That a cleric, especially a young one, like you, who was a good deal smaller than him and a little too quiet and shy for her own good, wouldn’t fight back. I remember that too. He had you pinned in the corner, he thought he could do anything he wanted. But he was wrong, wasn’t he?”

Again, she blinks, her frown deepening as she remembers the moment, her eyes growing haunted again, but in a different way. “He … yes, he was. I …”

“You tore his throat open. With your teeth. I’d never seen anything like it, certainly wouldn’t have expected it, certainly not once I’d pulled him off while he was still twitching, and got a proper look at you. You did what you had to, and it worked out.” I loosen my grip, just a bit, softening my face a little too. “I need that girl again. This is a tough spot, like that one was. You need to fight again. Can you do that?”

Her eyes are still wet, but as she dips her chin she still keeps them locked on mine, and she sets her jaw, her expression smoothing out, becoming more resolved. She’s pouting somewhat now, but it’s not out of anxiety or frustration any more. Now it’s stubbornness. Much more what we need right now. “I’ll … I’m going to … yes. Yes, I’ll try. I …” She lets a sigh go and lowers her head. “Yes.”

I hold on for a moment longer, but my grip is already softening to little more than a light rest on her arms now. Watching her for a few moments more. But I’m convinced now, enough at least. “All right. Good.”

When she looks up again she sniffs hard, and it sounds a bit wet but she still looks strong. She raises the rag in her hand and, after a thoughtful moment regarding it, shuffles it about in her fingers until she’s found reasonably clean spot and gives her eyes a good wipe. “I need to clean my sword. My Lady would be … offended by the neglect.”

Nodding, I reach up and give her a gentle chuck under her chin, which makes her smile like it always does. It’s a sad, fragile one, but still a smile, and I let her go easy enough.

When I turn I find that Suret’s watching me with a particularly cool, critical look. I’m about to speak to her, although I’m not really sure what I’m actually going to say, when the door opens, and I can’t help it, I start moving immediately.

The moment I see Vandryss’ face as she just strolls in, with a genuine spring in her step and a cocky smile like a cat that’s caught a particularly fat little bird, I want to break her nose. Maybe worse than that, my fingers are already tightening, my palms itching in anticipation for the first punch. She doesn’t see me coming yet, instead looking to Jammund as her grin grows. “All right then, we’ve finally made some bloody progress. Time to –”

“I want a word, if you don’t mind.” I snarl as I draw close, and the way I’m squaring up as I move must give me away because Kuth steps up to intercept me now, reaching out to hold me back. “We didn’t sign on for that –“

Vandryss turns and her expression changes instantly, eyes almost seeming to flare are her face darkens. “Are you still singing this pathetic little song, Mallys? I thought you’d finally seen some fucking sense.”

Kuth grips me arm to keep my from lunging at her, but I just keep my cool anyway, instead simply fixing her with a particularly cold glare. “Perhaps, but there are some lines we don’t cross. There have to be some limits, or we’re going to wind up getting burned.”

“Don’t act all high and mighty with me, it doesn’t wash.” She steps closer now, baring her unnervingly sharp teeth as she cranes up at me. She’s significantly smaller and I’m sure I must be stronger too, but she shows no fear at all interacting with me. She’s like one of those little dogs that bark at beasts big enough to swallow them whole, her sheer balls, or simple deluded ignorance. “Hontiresk told us all about what you used to do, back when you worked for his father. You’re no innocent, either. You’ve tortured folk too, more than once. Killed in cold blood, worse than that, even. Genuine murder. Still do sometimes, I heard.”

“Silver Order’s too much heat, Vandryss. Even a child knows that.” I say it as level as I can, but there’s still an edge I can’t keep from my words.

She smiles again, flashing her fangs as she cocks her head, and I’m really starting to hate that look. “You let me worry about those little details, Mistress Mallys. Part of what you’re being paid for is to look the other way.”

This time I genuinely come within a hair’s breadth of hitting her, I swear my hand almost moves on its own, and I barely manage to cover it at the last as I hold it back by shifting my stance, but in the end I realise that must look like I’m backing away, just a little. I see her brow cock a little at that, and it gives me chills to see it. The last thing I want with this woman is to give her even the mistaken idea she might intimidate me. So I narrow my eyes and suck on my own fangs for a second, then lean in again. ”I’m paid to be a professional, just like the rest of my team. Which means not taking fucking idiotic risks.”

Her smile doesn’t fade as she takes a step back and looks down, regarding me from a rather more coy angle which is definitely spoiled by her feral grin. “Oh please, by all means keep telling yourself that, too. Anything to justify what we’re asking you to do. It’ll be so much easier that way.”

Drawing back a little more, I regard her like she’s some kind of venomous thing that’s suddenly sprung up when I least expected it, which is not too far from the truth right now. I start to reply but Jammund just steps forward, inserting himself as gently and unobtrusively as he can between us as he looks down at Vandryss in particular.

“Maybe we’re gettin’ off track.” His voice is a good deal more level than the very sharp, pointed look he’s giving her now would suggest. “We’re just talking ourselves in circles, an’ it ain’t doing us no good. There was a point to all this, right? You mentioned progress.”

Vandryss regards him for a long beat, her smile evaporating almost immediately as her expression becomes quite pensive, then she shoots a cautious look to me again. “I did, yes. But this is hardly –”

“Reckon maybe this time, in the interest of maintaining some peace …” He continues to stare down at her, a little harder now, clearly intent on making his point. “Since we’re working together?”

Her frown holds for a few more moments as her regard grows colder still, then she turns away with a resigned hiss and just shrugs. “Fuck it, why not?” She looks my way again, her stare more shrewd now. “Foxtail’s seen sense. I imagine it was threatening to eat his daughter alive in front of him that really did it, although giving her a good hard throttling first likely made my point pretty well.”

Again I have to consciously choke down the urge to just attack her, and I know this time it would’ve been a good deal worse since I was just itching to draw my sword and cut her head clean off her shoulders. Instead I just clench my fists good and tight and set my jaw, glaring back with all the fire I can allow myself while I feel what’s burning inside me grow hotter. It’s probably best if I don’t just vomit flames right in her face right now.

Clearly Vandryss must pick up on it, the way she starts to smile again, just a small, sly one this time. “I’ve given him a little time to stew, hopefully that might let it sink in a little deeper that I’m not fucking around. Then I’m going back in there so I can ask him again who’s been helping him in the Provisional government, and perhaps outside of it too. So I know who else we have to kill.”

This time I just can’t stop myself, I step towards her, too tense to stop myself as I square up now. “Now wait just a minute, we already –”

“Relax.” she almost chuckles, her eyes actually twinkling a little, that strange fire in them making it all the more unnerving. “That’s not a job you need to concern yourselves with, I can take care of that one myself. Or at least shop it out to my own people.” She shrugs. “So to speak.”

I hear a low, guarded hiss behind me, and can’t help turning now to find Trouble’s looking up from where she’s sat on one of the chair’s currently working on cleaning the dried blood from her sword blade with an oily rag. The look in her narrowed eyes as she regards Vandryss is cold hate, but there’s a certain fervent dread in them too that I’ve rarely seen, at least outside of our few encounters with some truly fell things out in the deep wilds. She’s gripping the overlong handle of her sword tight enough to pale her knuckles, and I really can’t blame her.

If Vandryss notices this time, she keeps it to herself, simply turning to Tavarrat now. “I’d appreciate you coming in with me, if you don’t mind. Just in case he decides to try holding back after all, I might need a little extra grease. If you know what I mean.”

The wizard visibly blanches, her shoulders hunching a little more as she gently pushes herself away from the wall. “Van, I’m not sure I … this is not –”

Rolling her eyes, Vandryss rests her hands on her hips and gives Tavarrat a tired glare. “Perhaps I phrased that a little too much like a request. You’re coming in with me, because I might need you to compel him to give me the answers I need after all. Hopefully he’ll be a little more compliant now so this time it might actually work.”

Tavarrat turns to Jammund now, clearly beseeching, but he’s stood by with his arms folded tight, looking somewhat resigned. After a moment he simply shrugs with a weighty sigh and nods to her. “She’s right, it’s gotta be done. I don’t like it any more’n you do, but there ain’t a lot o’ choice.”

The look that she gives him when he says that … it’s not frustration, but not really betrayal, either, more simple dismay. Her eyes flicker to me for a moment and that almost feels like a plea for help too, but she shies away almost as quickly, instead looking at the floor for a long beat while taking a deep breath. “Darion … I mean , he’s … it’s not –”

“I’ll be coming in too.” I surprise myself as much as Tavarrat when I speak up, didn’t even realise I was going to do it until the words were out, but now I see the sense in it, anyway. Perhaps it’ll give me a chance to keep an eye on Vandryss while we’re in there, anyway. I look down at her now, giving her my most immovable glare. “No arguments, please. You’ll just be wasting your breath, and honestly it smells bad anyway.”

Kuth snorts behind me, and I hear Suret join in a beat after in a particularly sweet show of solidarity. Vandryss just narrows her eyes, her lips tightening, and doesn’t spit out a retort this time like I would’ve expected her to. Instead she just watches me for a very uncomfortable moment before simply shrugging. “Whatever, it makes no difference to me. Just don’t fuck with me in there. It’s not your part of the job, so you have no right to mess with mine. Understood?”

“Fuck you. Truly, I could not care less about what you want. I just want to be sure you’re not fucking us in there with your carelessness. Am I understood?”

Vandryss hisses again, making another move towards me, but again Jammund puts up his hand and presses hard against her collarbone, and she defers. “Van, she’s right. You should be careful not to go too far in this. Foxtail’s kid ain’t no use to us dead, and two wizards in hand are way better’n one. Besides, she might be able to tell us a bit more about who we’re up against, so it makes sense for Mistress Mallys to be in there too.”

After a brooding, thoughtful moment, Vandryss cocks a brow and regards me again, turning shrewd again. “Fine, come in, if you want, I’ll let you have second crack at her once I’m finished. Just don’t fuck with me in the meantime.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I snap back, but she’s already stepping away from me, flickering her fingers at the former Order wizard now as she goes in the most arrogantly dismissive show of dominance I’ve ever witnessed. Tavarrat simply lets another heavy sigh go and collects her staff, then detours to me before following Vandryss.

“Thank you for that. I … I’m sorry. I’m not usually –”

“I’m not doing it for you, I just want to make sure my people don’t end up getting hurt by having one of them dead on our hands by association. I don’t trust that twisted bitch not to kill the half-elf without even thinking about it first.”

Tavarrat’s frown deepens at that, but still she nods. Then I feel someone grab hold of my wrist and I’m brought up short before the door. When I turn I find Kuth, giving me a particularly earnest look. “You want me to come with you?”

As sweet as his gesture is, I don’t think it would be a smart move. I’m going to have to work hard enough to keep myself restrained in there, I don’t want to have to keep an eye on him too. So I reach over with my other hand and give his wrist a gentle squeeze of my own. “No, I want you to stay here. Keep an eye on the others. Especially Trouble. See if you can shake her out of her funk.”

He blinks, frowning a little. “How?”

“I don’t know. Tell her that joke you know. The one that makes me laugh.”

His grip loosens enough as he ponders that for me to slip free, and as I head to the door he’s still wondering. Finally he calls after me: “Which one’s that? You never laugh at any o’ my jokes.”

I’m already through the door. There’s one of Jammund’s men stood on the other side of it, who gently closes it behind me, and I turn to look him over as I pass. They’re every one of them exactly the kind of rough, world-worn common thug I would have expected a former pirate to crew around with, if I’m honest. Salty, uncouth and more than a few of them clearly aren’t very bright, but they make up for it with ruthless edge and strong backs, every one covered in scars and armed to the teeth. This is one of the younger ones, one of the many half-orcs he seems to favour, and they hold my eye longer than a few have before, I notice. The careless, overly-inflated confidence of youth. I almost smile seeing it.

Vandryss is waiting at the far end of the corridor, I realise, just short of the corner, while Tavarrat seems to have hung back in deference to me now, and I wonder if it’s because she clearly just doesn’t like the strange woman. I wouldn’t blame her for that, the pale bitch give me the creeps. I take a beat to check my gear over and start off after them, and she falls into step with me as I reach her.

“So you know Foxtail, then?” I ask her after a moment.

She gives me a rather furtive sidelong glance at that, then shrugs. “No. Not really. I mean … he’s a legend in the Order, just as much as he is outside of it. More so in many ways. He’s an inspiration to many of us, so …” That makes her frown again, looking down at the floor again for a moment. “Or he was. It’s … complicated. But I couldn’t have gotten through the Academy and then life in the Order after without encountering that name, and hearing the stories. That makes this … it’s –”

“Difficult?”

“Perhaps.” she breathes out in a particularly weighty sigh as we turn the corner to find Vandryss has already made her way down to a door at the far end and is now waiting again, looking frustrated. “Problematic, certainly. I –”

“Dram!” Tham’s voice checks me, and I stop on the spot, turning quick to find her approaching up the other branch of this T-junction. She’s a dirty mess, and there’s a rather rough looking cut on her cheek, but otherwise she looks pretty healthy, which is a relief.

Then I see Ixen behind her, and I realise she clearly got off light. He looks like he’s been thoroughly battered, he’s not even capable of walking on his own, instead a grizzly-bearded human veteran of Jammund’s is helping him along with his long arm slung over some impressively broad shoulders. They’re of a height, at least, and he’s clearly a big, burly sort so he’s having no problems at all holding up the imori’s lean, wiry weight, but Ix certainly doesn’t look too happy about it. He’s got several dirty, rough looking scrapes and cuts crisscrossing his face, and his right arm, dangling limp at his side, looks somewhat mangled out of true, the long fingers similarly bent, while he’s clearly wincing with every step. I get the impression there’s more damage than just what I can see.

“Bloody hell … what happened?”

“Their bloody cleric happened.” Thamree growls, and I realise he mood isn’t just down to our pet killer’s condition, or even her own much more modest wound. “Some tengu, no bigger’n a dwarf but definitely strong as one. Had a big fuckin’ hammer, and he swung it like a bastard. And other god stuff too, like Trouble does, prob’ly a cleric. Broke my best bow.”

“From the look of it he broke more than that.” I almost step forward to reach out for Ix as he’s brought to a very uncomfortable stop beside Tham, but hold short. He blinks somewhat as he looks up at me, but I see that, while he’s clearly been fucked up badly, he’s still with us, his eyes at least clear enough to focus on me. “Thorin, Ix … how bad are you hurt?”

“Bastard didn’t break my back, at least, but my ribs are fucked.” he hisses with a gritted wince “Ah … my arm took the worst of it, mind. He caught me napping. I’m looking to pay it back soon as we can.”

“You’ll get your chance.” I mean it when I say it, seeing the two of them, but Ix in particular, gets me hot enough to dull a little of the mercy I might otherwise have for our captive, though I wonder if that’s actually likely to last once I see Vandryss at work. Frowning deeper, I turn back to Tham. “Get to Trouble, she’ll fix him up. And get yourself looked at as well. You look … well, better than him, but still rough.”

Her frown deepening, she shakes her head. “I’m all right, just –“

“No, I mean it, Tham. I need everyone back in good condition as soon as possible. Fighting fit. We might need to head out soon.” I look at Ix, who honestly looks ready for a rest. “Well, within reason. Just tell me, you did what we talked about, right?”

“Course I did, boss.” She gives me a sharp look, but I think it’s more just her fatigue making her cranky. “We weren’t followed, I’m sure of it. ‘Sides, we had the getaway set up right, didn’t we?”

Casting a quick, cautionary look to Tavarrat, I can’t help frowning myself. She simply shrugs, which doesn’t fill me with much more confidence.

“Not wanting to press anyone, but we have things to do!” Vandryss calls from the other end of the corridor, and it’s enough to set my teeth on edge again. I fight the urge to glare at her and simply let a sigh go, turning back to my friends.

“Go on. See Trouble, get fixed up. Get some food, and rest. I’ll be busy for a little while anyway.”

Tham gives me a pointed look at that, but holds her tongue. Instead she turns to the man supporting Ix and cocks her head in the direction of the storeroom where the others are. “Let’s go.”

Clenching my jaw, I make a point of ignoring Vandryss when I turn back, instead concentrating on Tavarrat as I start walking again. The wizard’s watching me again, but I can’t quite read her this time, I clearly don’t know her well enough yet to work out what she’s actually thinking. So I just mutter, as much to myself really: “Let’s just get this over with.” and fall into step with her.

Ahead, Vandryss gives us both a particularly cold look as she digs in her pockets for a moment. Finally she produces a bunch of keys, and after sorting through it for a beat or two, selects one which she uses to open the door. She doesn’t wait for us, simply stepping through and leaving it standing open for us both.

“Just keep an eye on her in there.” I say the words before I quite realise it, but I don’t regret them once they’re out. I’m just hoping she’s on the same page. So I lick my lips and give her a look as I add: “You know how bad this could get. We need to keep her reined in.”

Tavarrat stops a little short of the door and turns to me, looking a little more nervous but not so much she can’t meet my gaze now. “Honestly, I don’t know if we can. She’s …” She blanches, looking down at the floor again.

“What … an evil cunt? Hardly a revelation.”

That makes her look up again, a little sharper than I expected. “No … no, it’s … you don’t understand, and I don’t think I can tell you. Just …” She sighs, growing resigned. “Honestly, just watch out for yourself in there. Please.”

She turns away and steps through the door before I can reply, but then I’m genuinely unsure how I could respond to that one. Something about the way she said that gives me fresh chills, significantly worse than before. I have to shake it off just to start moving again, clenching my jaw as tightly as I’m suddenly gripping the sword at my side for reassurance, really starting to worry now as I finally step into the room.

Damn it … maybe Trouble was right about this shit …