We could tell how badly our various companions were coping with the wait even as we walked down the hall. Even so, I was surprised to emerge from the door onto the mist-soaked platform and find the sounds of complaining and scuffling were caused by Nazralind holding Flaethwyn in a headlock.

“What is wrong with you?!” Flaethwyn was squalling as we arrived.

I glanced swiftly around, verifying from the amused and/or resigned expressions of the humans and goblins standing around watching this that there was not an actual crisis.

“Come on, Nazralind, you can’t mess up a lady’s coiffure,” I said sternly. “Just because you style yourself with spit and a stiff breeze doesn’t mean you don’t know better. Let’s all pretend to be civilized, yeah?”

Naz blew a raspberry at me, but relented, allowing Flaethwyn to jerk loose and skitter away from her. One hand went to her hair, the other to the handle of her rapier.

“You degenerate idiot!” she snarled. “Do you have crawns in your brain? What could possibly possess a person to go so utterly daft?! Your parents should have tossed you down a well!”

“There we go,” Nazralind said with an expression of pure, calm satisfaction. “I’m surprised it took that level of goading to break you out of that misplaced formality, but we got there in the end and that’s what matters. Now we can all just be adventurers together and not worry about high society crap that none of us actually care about. It’s nice to finally meet you, Flaethwyn.”

The other elf stared at her, utterly gobsmacked. The fact that half her hair was still sticking up out of place only made it funnier. Pashilyn stepped in and began gently brushing Flaethwyn’s golden locks back into place with her hands before the elf could think of anything else to say, or more likely, yell.

“Right, well, anyway,” said Judge Gazmo. “You two took your time. Had fun in there?”

“Not fucking really,” I said.

“But it was worth it,” Yoshi added. “Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone. We got…some good answers.” He gave me a loaded glance.

“Cool,” Gazmo grunted. “Then let’s not waste any more time, we gotta keep moving forward. Jadrak’s sure as shit not sitting still. C’mere.”

He turned and stalked off with no more ado, leaving us to follow. Fram sauntered along, positioning herself beside me and giving me a big grin. I didn’t read anything into that; she clearly just enjoyed being a large personality.

Gazmo brought us to another structure adjacent to the main platform, this one free-standing and made of sheet metal, close enough to the falls that the noise of it sounded like constant rain on a roof. With a couple of terse phrases, he directed me to follow him in and Fram to guard the door. Apparently he didn’t want us to be interrupted.

Inside six armed goblins were standing watch over ten who were bound with a mismatch of ropes and chains; one also had a gag on and was more heavily secured than the others. He turned a particularly venomous glare on us at our entry, though none of them looked happy to see us.

“Well?” Gazmo turned to me and slung his polearm across his shoulders. “What’s your verdict?”

He was asking me?

“My verdict on…?”

“Don’t act dumb, I know you’re not. These are Jadrak’s followers who attacked this business, damaged property and injured people. You’re the Dark Lord, what do you wanna do with ‘em?”

I was not dumb, which was how I knew he was both testing me to see how I’d handle situations like this and also lightening his own workload. Fram was fun; Gazmo was beginning to get under my skin.

“You’re the Judge,” I deflected. “How would you normally handle offenses like this?”

“Normally, offenses like this don’t happen. Normally, goblins aren’t prone to violence. The basic principle underpinning our judgments are that anyone who wrongs anyone else owes the wronged party restitution of roughly equivalent value to the injury inflicted. In a largely barter-based economy without any jails, the exact form that takes depends very much on the individual case. Worst thing we do is with people who repeatedly offend and absolutely refuse to get along in goblin society. That’s exile. Which in practical terms is a death sentence, being frank. A goblin alone doesn’t last long on the surface of Dount. Beast tribes know that goblin exiles are bad news, and Fflyr just murder them for being goblins on the surface. But, it’s established in precedent that the rise of a Goblin King and the rise of a Dark Lord are two things which suspend all our normal ways of doing things. So, here we are.”

“What happens when there’s no possible restitution for a crime?”

“Then everybody involved has a real bad day.”

“Suppose you actually answer the question, since I could use the perspective if you expect me to pass judgment on goblins—”

“These situations are unique, is what I’m tellin’ you. In a case like that, the Judge has a bad day because those are the hardest to decide, the victim has a bad day ‘cause there’s no reasonable way of gettin’ what’s owed them, and the guilty party…well. You know.”

He turned toward me, shifting his grip on the polearm to plant its butt on the floor with a metallic thunk.

“This is a situation our precedents don’t cover, except to defer authority to potentially Jadrak or you, depending on who comes out on top. Which just means you, because I’m not taking any orders from a damn Void witch. So I’ll ask you again, Dark Lord. What’s your verdict?”

A lot of the imprisoned goblins began shouting all at once, which created a deafening noise in the metal shed. Amid the jumble of voices I was just able to make out one theme: disbelief.

“—lying pawn of—”

“—so desperate to discredit—”

“—King Jadrak would never—”

“—Void witch my green ass, you—”

Windburst.

I cast it at the walls over their heads rather than knock anybody down, but in that confined space the intensity of it nearly did anyway. The walls shook, but the fast-moving air had nowhere to go except around; it took a second for the backdrafts to settle enough that the goblins were able to raise their heads again.

“Quiet,” I ordered.

“Impressive,” Gazmo said, his disdainful tone at odds with the praise. “Well?”

Being put on the spot like this might’ve been bad for me, except for one thing: just because he didn’t have a precedent for this situation did not mean I didn’t. In fact, I had already made almost this exact judgment with regard to Rads and his miners just yesterday. Now that I thought about it, Rizz knew that and I doubted she had concealed it from Gazmo. So what was he playing at, here?

“Keep them confined until the Goblin King has been dealt with. These people are just trying to improve their lives and were misled by a charlatan. What we’re trying to do is restore sanity, not butcher more goblins. Far too many have died already. After the war is over, they can go back to their lives.”

The Judge grunted. “And how’s that address the damages they’ve caused to others?”

“You say the Dark Lord’s will overrides your precedents? Well, fine, here it is: if I have a problem with the way goblins do things, I’ll tell you so specifically. Mostly, I’ve been positively impressed down here. If anybody has a case to press against anyone else over anything that happened, after this is all settled they can bring it before a Judge as normal. You’ll have my authority to back you up on that, if you’re concerned you’ll need it.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Mm.” Gazmo regarded me with narrowed eyes, his mouth going slightly crooked as he silently shifted his jawbone. As if he was carefully chewing a response before spitting it out. “All right. For now, I suppose that’ll do. Then let’s—”

“Oh, wait, though,” I said, turning back to the row of imprisoned Jadrak partisans. “With one exception. This is our sorcerer, right?”

“You see anybody else gagged? I told you he was.”

“You’re pleasant, you know that?” I informed the Judge with a smile. “Just a real enjoyable fella to chat with. Could somebody un-gag him for a moment, please?”

Gazmo just tilted his head to one side to regard me quizzically, but the guards exchanged a round of apprehensive glances.

“Uh,” one ventured, “are you sure…”

“If he could cast by line of sight alone I doubt you’d have gotten that thing on him in the first place. Anyway, relax; I have this under control.”

It wasn’t empty bravado; I could Heal anything Fire Lance could do even at this range, that spell was all agony and very little stopping power. Like my Immolate, but slower to hit and less elegant. Just to be sure, I strode forward till I was looming over the bound goblin sorcerer, then knelt to bring my eyeline closer to his. Making myself the target would buy me ample time to shut him down if it turned out he could cast without gesturing; it always too new victims a second or two to be flummoxed that spells didn’t work on me. God, I loved this artifact.

At any rate, that seemed to be enough reassurance. The guard who’d spoken up stepped forward and bent, loosening the sorcerer’s gag just enough to pull it down. He then stepped swiftly back.

“So,” I said pleasantly, “am I to understand that you didn’t know Jadrak is a devil-dealer?”

The goblin worked his jaw for a second, licking his lips to mitigate the taste of gag, then sneered at me.

“You must think you’re pretty fuckin’ clever, tallboy. Think you’re so much smarter than us goblins. What, you reckon I’m dumb enough to just swallow whatever the hell you cough up? Of course we’ll believe whatever ignorant fucking slander you have to say about the Goblin King. After all, you’re the great and glorious Dark Lord and we’re a bunch of stupid tunnel crawns. Right?”

“Well, you’re clearly not the most iridescent jewel in the mine or you wouldn’t be in this situation,” I replied cheerfully, “but hey, you fell for the blandishments of a scheming politician. It’s not something to be proud of, but I can’t say it makes you stupid. Wiser people than myself have been taken in by less impressive manipulators than Jadrak. What matters right now is that you didn’t know.”

I stood up, dusting off my knees, and turned a broad grin on Gazmo, who looked kind of…sardonically apprehensive.

“All right! Judge, I have a special request for this one.”

----------------------------------------

“Have you utterly lost your mind?!” Flaethwyn clapped a hand to her forehead. “What am I saying, of course you have. You’re the Dark Lord!”

“So, anyway,” I said, blithely ignoring her and turning to address my crew of new goblin recruits, “do any of you recognize this guy?”

Casually, I pointed at the bound sorcerer behind me. I was holding the chain which was wrapped around the cords holding his wrists together. Behind his back, which was awkward, but also really the only feasible way to keep him secured and gagged since I had to leave his feet free, otherwise he couldn’t walk. I could’ve attached a collar to his neck or something, but… I instinctively bridled at the thought of inflicting that indignity. It was bad enough already.

The erstwhile members of Hoy’s strike force peered at him, a few glancing at each other as if for confirmation. No apparent hits, however.

“We don’t all know each other, y’know,” Ritlit commented, grinning. The goblins had grown steadily more comfortable following me and were culturally predisposed to be outspoken, but most of them still seemed shy about drawing my personal attention to them in conversation. There were thus a couple of de facto “talkers” who evidently spoke for the group. Well, at least it spared me having to memorize more names I couldn’t pronounce.

“Yeah, it was a long shot,” I agreed. “Ah, well.”

Getting the gag off him again was a bit of a process, though I tried to be fast. It was important not to handle my prisoner too roughly, for the sake of my medium- and long-term plans here, but he sure didn’t make himself easy to handle. Also, there were those shark-like teeth, and I’d already learned that a proud sorcerer of the Goblin King’s army wasn’t too dignified to snap at fingers. But I did get it loosened enough for him to talk, and withdraw my hands to safety before anything unfortunate happened.

“So, let’s all introduce ourselves!” I suggested brightly. “What’s your name, guy?”

“Get fucked,” he said with a particularly vicious sneer.

Bad call, smartass.

“Hajimemashite! Everyone, this is our new friend Get Fucked. Get Fucked, this is everyone; you’ll get to know names over time since we’ll be traveling together. Now, I want us all to show Get Fucked here some good old Dark Crusade hospitality. That’s the way to start off a healthy relationship, after all.”

Getting the gag back on Get Fucked was ironically easier than getting it safely off. It helped that after every exchange with him I was a smidge less concerned about his personal comfort.

“To be entirely clear, Lord Seiji,” said Aster, “what you are proposing is to add a prisoner to our group, while we are already in a race against Hoy to reach the Spirits. An extremely dangerous prisoner who is Blessed with Magic and fanatically opposed to us, who will thus require constant monitoring. Not to mention dealing with all the ways he’ll try to slow us down on the way.”

“Well summarized, Aster,” I praised. She was certainly being more reasonable about it than Flaethwyn. Then again, a herd of stampeding wildebeests is more reasonable than Flaethwyn.

Aster drew in a steadying breath. “I assume you have a very good reason for suggesting this?”

“Of course I do.”

“And…it’s a reason you are able to articulate in terms that make sense to sane people?”

“Of course I can,” I nodded. “But not right now, in front of everybody. Especially certain parts of everybody. I’m talking about Get Fucked himself, here. All of this will be settled faster than you expect, I assure you. For the time being, you’ll simply have to trust me.”

“Oh, where do I even begin?!” Flaethwyn shouted.

“You could try not starting, for once,” Zui suggested, “just for a refreshing change of pace.”

“We can trust him,” Yoshi stated. Somehow, this actually shut Flaethwyn up, also drawing surprised stares from Pashilyn and Amell.

“Yoshi,” Pashilyn began in a careful tone.

He had already colored slightly under this scrutiny, but set his jaw and continued, deliberately squaring his shoulders. Man, I found myself rooting for the kid; he’d started as the most hapless loser I’d ever met and been through some shit in the meantime, but damn if he wasn’t doing his best, and managing impressively well, all things considered. It was downright inspiring.

“I’m not just being sentimental, Pashilyn. Honestly, I don’t really know Omura any better than you; we never met before that day on the train platform.”

“Japan’s a big country,” I added, nodding. “We don’t all know each other.”

“Hah! That’s a callback!” Ritlit eagerly prodded the long-suffering goblin next to her with an elbow. “He callbacked me! Classic Dark Lord comedy.”

“It was part of my answer from the Spirit,” Yoshi explained, ignoring the goblin byplay that was ruining his moment. “We can trust the Dark Lord. At least, so long as we’re still fighting together on Dount. Those were the terms it used.”

Everyone paused at that, considering, most of them turning to stare speculatively at either Yoshi or myself. Get Fucked tugged experimentally at his chain; I flicked it like a horse’s reins. He managed to sneer at me with just his eyes, which honestly was just impressive.

“He tampered with the Spirit, somehow,” Flaethwyn muttered, but we could all tell her heart wasn’t in it.

“He can’t,” said Radatina. “Only a Void witch or devil can tamper with a Spirit, and not even all of them. Even if the Void recognizes the Dark Lord, that doesn’t mean he knows how to do anything with it—you saw what happened when we encountered it accidentally. And anything anybody could do to mess with a Spirit’s functions would’ve been super obvious. Even Yoshi would have been able to tell, and don’t forget, there were two familiars right there watching. The Spirit’s reward was legitimate; if it said we can trust Lord Seiji, at least for now, then…there it is.”

For some reason, that made Flaethwyn even angrier, but at least she was quiet about it this time. The elf turned her back on us, clenching her fists at her sides so hard it made her shoulders tremble.

“So,” Zui said loudly, “our next destination is at least a few hours’ walk from here. The only tram line that could’ve taken us there is confirmed down; the nearest we could use would involve backtracking to Sneppit’s depot and then riding to a point distant enough that it ultimately wouldn’t save us any time.”

“It’s another Spirit, right?” said Adelly. “For those of us who weren’t privy to the secret strategy meeting, is that gonna be another potential advantage for us?”

“You mean another long session of sitting on our thumbs?” Nazralind asked, grinning. “Anyway, don’t sweat missing the planning sessions, those are always excruciatingly boring.”

“I can explain the details as we go, if you’re really curious, but the short version is the next Spirit’s challenge is a lot longer and more convoluted and its reward isn’t really applicable to any of our current problems,” Zui said impatiently. “So no, we just need to bolster the goblins holding it and make sure Hoy doesn’t corrupt the damn thing. Hopefully that won’t take nearly as long as this stop, speaking of which…?”

“Right, we’d better get moving,” I agreed. “Judge Gazmo, it’s been a pleasure. I trust you’ve got everything handled here.”

“Trust otherwise, tallboy,” he said. “I’m comin’ with you.”

I blinked. “Uh… Sorry, but I thought—”

“We’re movin’ out anyway. I was gonna take the girl on a more roundabout path to check up on some other folks sheltering in the area, but after gettin’ an eyeful of your latest big idea, I think I’d best tag along and make sure this doesn’t go any worse than it’s obviously already going to.”

He turned a baleful look on Get Fucked, who scowled right back over his gag. Despite the sorcerer’s inauspicious conditions, I had to give him credit: he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. That’s exactly the kind of sheer, relentless, life-affirming spite I aspire to. He was gonna be a great addition to the party, I just knew it.

“Then you reckon everything here is secure without you?” I prompted. “I mean no offense to our host, of course…”

I nodded politely at Goggin, who was lurking around the periphery, watching the ongoing conversation without involving himself directly now that he had what he wanted from me.

“Goggin’s a sniveling invertebrate who’ll roll over the second the likes of Jadrak even looks at him too directly,” said Gazmo.

“Hey!” Goggin protested.

“But,” the Judge continued, “he’s not cruel or any greedier than the average boss, and I don’t generally worry about people working under him. With Sneppit’s security forces coming to bolster his spine, things here should be settled. Especially since she won’t back down unless it’s strategically necessary, even if he wants to. Zui’s right, we’d better not waste any more time here.”

“Well, you all heard the Judge,” Adelly said brightly, bracing the Lightning Staff against her shoulder. “Our path’s that tunnel over there, right? Ikuzo!”

She started off, Nazralind immediately falling into step behind her.

Yoshi slowly turned a wide-eyed stare on me.

“Omura…”

“I’ll handle it,” I promised, and then strode off after the girls before he could ask me any questions for which I didn’t have answers, which in that moment was probably all of them.