Bee bounced back to her feet, growling—more from indignation than pain.

“Relax,” Buck said with an easy laugh. “No need to look so serious. I just need to get a feel for your style.”

“Humor him, Bee,” Will said. He sat down in the grass to watch them, arms resting on bent knees.

Buck took off his sword belt and threw it in the grass. He settled into a loose fighting stance with light, bouncy footwork, swaying his torso almost like he was dancing.

Bee raised her open hands in a tight guard. She noticed that he kept his sleeve rolled up, and so showed him the same courtesy. She felt a little uneasy about fighting a Level 11, but there was nothing for it. She couldn’t embarrass herself with Will watching, or embarrass him by disappointing her new teacher.

Buck wasn’t advancing, so Bee made the first move, rushing in to shoot for his waist and get him on the ground. Buck danced out of the way with two light steps, his back brushing against her shoulder as she charged past. She spun back to come after him again, only to catch a backhand across the face.

It barely hurt—her pride was the only thing that was stung. Buck stayed within easy reach, waving her in with an infuriating grin. She feinted with a right hook, let him deflect it, and went to hook his ankle, but he just lifted his foot out of the way.

The attempt earned her another slap.

His strikes were thrown to annoy, not harm. Despite that, it did look like he was putting a good amount of oomph behind them, twisting his torso to increase power. If it was still that weak, how would he even go about hurting her? He clearly didn’t have any points in Strength.

Bee went for him again, only for the Entertainer to step just out of her reach. He moved with perfect efficiency to avoid her, not wasting a single step.

“You’re fighting conservatively,” he noted. “Testing my limits. That’s good. Mind if I do the same?”

“I—”

Bee did not have time to finish as Buck leapt high and became a flying, wheeling blur. His foot collided with the side of her head like a sledgehammer and sent her straight into the ground.

The earth swayed beneath her, and she spat dirt and grass as she staggered back to her feet. The whole left side of her face pulsed with hot pain. She worked her jaw and felt it click back into place.

“You took that pretty well,” he said. “Now it’s your turn. Hit me with something.”

“She’s a brute,” Will called. “What you see is what you get.”

Buck frowned and stopped bouncing for a second. “Oh. But the crystals…”

Bee picked his moment of confusion to rush him. She anticipated another spinning kick as soon as he jumped into the air, and twisted herself to the right to absorb some of the impact. It still brought her to one knee, and he rolled right over her back, bouncing to his feet behind her. She pitched her weight forward and aimed a back kick, only for her foot to be caught and deflected.

“Starting to get to you, am I?” Buck carried on in his sing-song voice. He slapped her again on the back of her head as she got up, then danced away from her retaliatory grab attempt. “Let’s see if we can turn that up. Power Word: Anger.”

Bee’s heart suddenly punched the inside of her ribcage, rattling her teeth. All the blood in her body was brought to a boil, and her face flushed hot as her lips peeled back in a snarl. Her mind was flooded with one overwhelming emotion.

I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. Kill him. Die, die, die, die, die.

Her body moved of its own accord, on pure instinct. She lunged at the Entertainer, took a slap to the face, kept going. She swung wildly, putting every bit of power she had behind each punch, and advanced as he retreated. With each hit that missed, her anger grew, until she was wound up so tight that she almost forgot to breathe.

Buck kept leading her around until she’d swung herself dizzy, sweat beading her face. Her feet grew heavy, her breathing ragged.

“That’s enough, I think. Power Word: Fatigue.”

Bee dropped to her knees like all her tendons had been cut, arms hanging limp. Buck stood over her, hands on hips. Well within reach, but her hands were weighed down with lead and refused to budge.

“She’s sloppy,” Buck commented, looking over his shoulder at Will.

Will shrugged in return. “She’s still pretty fresh.”

Bee focused all her energy into just one hand, willing it to move. She managed to curl her fingers, then lift her wrist a hair.

“Will you train her?” Will asked.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

Bit by bit, Bee felt the Entertainer’s technique lessen, the locks on her body lifting one at a time. She flexed her hand to test it, finding it functional, then shot her arm forward and grabbed at the man’s blouse.

Buck gently redirected her hand with the back of his, then smacked her in the face, all without sparing even a glance at her.

“She does have guts, I’ll say that. A good trait for a Laborer to have.”

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She got up on one knee to stand, and Buck immediately kicked her foot out from underneath her, sending her flat on her belly. His attention was still wholly elsewhere.

“How long will it take?”

“Depends on how quickly she learns.”

“She’s a quick learner.”

“Not long, then. This is more of a sink or swim type exercise anyway.”

Bee finally admitted to herself that she wasn’t going to land a single touch on this man. She rolled away from him and crawled into a sitting position, folding her legs under her. The unnatural fatigue had more or less completely dispersed at this point.

That could have gone better.

“Sink or swim?” Will asked. “I thought you’d be sparring with her.”

Buck grinned, running a hand through his luxurious hair. “Did I say that? Oh well, I changed my mind. I’ll be taking her to my old stomping grounds.”

Will stood up. “No.” There was a hard edge to his voice.

“She needs your permission, does she? Like a dog? Why don’t we ask her?”

“What are you talking about?” Bee asked. “Where is it you want to take me?”

“The Sheerhome fighting pits,” Buck said, turning on his heel to finally grace her with his attention. “Lowlifes fighting other lowlifes for graces and glory. If you want to level up and get stronger, what better way than an actual life-or-death challenge?”

“Seriously?”

Bee and Will looked at each other. The weariness always present on his face seemed to double, and he gave a heavy sigh. No doubt he already knew what she was thinking, and that arguing with her would be pointless.

“It’s a very bad idea,” Will maintained.

“It’ll be fine,” Buck insisted. “We’ll stick her in the 1-5 bracket. Those usually don’t end in death anyway. Besides, she’ll have two great ringmen.”

“I can fight people?” Bee asked.

Will rubbed aggressively at his nose scar. “Does it matter if I say no? You’ll find a way to do it without my permission anyway.”

There was no good reply to that, because he wasn’t wrong. She had never been very good at listening to people.

“Then let’s do it,” Buck said with a firm nod, clapping his hands together. “By the time I’m done with you, girl, the crowd will be cheering your name.”

*****

Surprisingly, Will’s naysayer attitude changed almost as soon as the plan of action was decided upon. Once there was no longer any possibility of talking her out of it, his attention shifted completely to maximizing her chances of success.

Buck went into town to get her signed up for the pits and was set to return in the afternoon. Will endeavored to fill her in on the basics of what she would be doing by then.

A pit fight usually consisted of five three-minute rounds, and ended when one of the fighters surrendered, became too injured to continue, or was killed. If none of these took place, the match would be decided by points, but apparently it rarely came to that.

Killing an opponent was only prohibited if they were unconscious, surrendering, or if their corner had thrown in the towel. Even then, it sounded like the rules were more of a gray area.

A standard pit fight allowed no armor, weapons, or familiars, but anything else went, including attacks to the eyes or below the belt. Between rounds, each fighter was allowed to drink one potion.

“And this is legal?” Bee asked, sitting by the table in the living area with Will.

Nix laid before the fireplace, holding her hand in the flames.

“It’s legal everywhere in the Frontier,” Will confirmed. “Aside from whoring and gambling, one might say it’s our great national pastime.”

“You’re more okay with this than I thought you’d be,” Bee said after a while, unable to quite meet his eye.

“I realized that at some point, I’ll have to accept the futility of keeping you from doing stupid shit. Also, if we’re only talking about leveling efficiency, this is the most expedient way to go about it. So rather than wasting my breath trying to stop you, which would only antagonize you, I’m going to make sure you don’t get yourself killed instead.”

Bee gave a little smile. “Thanks, Will. You’re the best.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass.”

The topic of her absent instructor came up, and Bee found that she had a lot of questions about him. “That guy used to be a pit fighter, then?”

“Yeah. I think he was pretty high-profile a few years back. Pit fighting is probably the best way for an Entertainer to level if they want to focus on combat.”

“That makes sense.” She rubbed at her ringing left ear. “He was really strong.”

“He’s got a pretty basic build, but it’s solid, and he’s got the skills to back it up.”

“That Power Word thing he was using really threw me off. How do you fight something like that?”

Will laughed. “Actually, a lot of people say that Power Word is useless. Buck gave a good demonstration there of how to use it properly.”

“Useless?” Bee asked, frowning.

“Mmhmm. Power Word lets you affect the mind of another being that can hear and understand it, but only if they’re already attuned to the word you choose.”

“Meaning?”

“He used Power Word: Anger to drive you into a frenzy, but it only worked because you were already angry. Then he used Power Word: Fatigue to tap you out, but it only worked because you were already tired.”

Bee thought it over. “So he used the first one to set up the second one.”

“Correct.”

“How do you even counter that? It’s not like I could have stopped feeling anything.”

Will shrugged. “It was mostly effective in that case because you’re weaker than him to begin with. If he frenzied a stronger, faster opponent in the same way, all he’d be doing is introducing his face to their fist that much faster. Power Word is a good setup tool, but it doesn’t usually win fights on its own.”

“Then the real reason why I lost is that crazy dodging ability of his.”

“Yes.”

“Is it a passive that lets him do that?”

“Several, I imagine. But don’t worry too much about it—you won’t be fighting anyone of Buck’s caliber in the pits. We’ll get your skills polished up before then. You should be fine.”

Buck came in a short while later, whistling to himself as he stepped through the door.

Nix looked up from the fire and gave a demure smile. “Hello, darling. It’s been a while.”

“Demon,” Buck replied in greeting, thumbs hooked through his belt. “I can’t say I haven’t missed you. Once I’m done here, why don’t you ditch these nerds and come back to me?”

“Thank you, dear, but I quite like it here.” She returned to her fire watching with a wave of dismissal.

Buck pursed his lips in mild annoyance. “No accounting for taste, I guess.” Then he turned his attention to Bee. “Good news, Fumble. You’ve got a fight in a week.”

“A week?” Will asked. “You said a month.”

“I did, but the ringmaster owes me a couple favors, so I had it moved up. Great, right? Now we don’t have to be farting around as long.”

Will looked like he wanted to stick a gun in his mouth.