Though they needled him relentlessly, Gug would not directly reply to any questions about how he had gotten access to the Concord. The only thing he would say was: “A wise man once told me: You are a very special boy, Gug.” Neither would he comment on what Nug had done to that bandit except to insist that ‘his brother kept him safe’.

At the end of the night, Will and Bee staggered off together, more than a little drunk, and inched across a swaying rope bridge to get to an unoccupied hut. Having forgotten their bedrolls, they curled up together on the hard floor in the dark. Bee hugged his waist, chin resting against his shoulder, and he felt her hot vodka breath on his neck—smelled it, too.

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered.

“Yes, Bee,” Will muttered, suddenly reminded of his bad mood. “What you did today was some real nonsense.”

“Sorry. I know I make things hard for you sometimes.” She sounded surprisingly sincere.

“I get it, you know. You wanna push yourself. But Bee, I promise you, the last thing you’ll be lacking on this trip is excitement. Soon enough you might find yourself wishing for boredom. So please, don’t go picking fights you don’t have to.”

“Okay. I’ll do better at listening.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

She clearly meant what she said, but somehow Will didn’t see it panning out that way.

They settled in to sleep, and Bee hugged him tighter, almost uncomfortably so. She wrapped a leg over him, and he almost felt like he was in an unorthodox submission hold.

“Hey, bro,” she whispered after a while.

Will sighed. “Yes?”

“Would you forgive me for a blowjob?”

“No, Bee.” He wanted to keep being angry, but eventually he found himself glancing back at her. “But, uh… you could try if you like.”

*****

In the morning, it was quickly decided that they would stay another day at the bandit encampment. The weather was overcast with a cold drizzle, Number Three and Number Five still hadn’t recovered, and everyone was too hungover to really feel like doing anything ambitious, Will included.

Almost everyone was happy with the extra rest. They would probably have precious few chances like this throughout their journey.

Bee, predictably, was anxious to get going again, but she at least made an admirable attempt at hiding it.

Lauren and Min were a little more talkative that day—as in, they would sometimes give more than one-word responses to direct questions. Will checked them over for wounds, but found only some scratches and bruising. They were a little malnourished, but not life-threateningly. He gave them each a rejuvenation potion, thinking that was probably the best he could do for them.

It was decided that the women would travel with them to Timbryhall and find their own fortune from there. They didn’t ask to be hired on, and Will was glad for that, as he didn’t have much use for either of them.

The weather was still dreary the next day, but at least it wasn’t raining. Mongrel’s troop had mostly recovered, and they were ready to move on.

Getting back on the road, they joined the rest of the passing traffic like nothing had happened. A few young travelers threw sidelong glances at the wrapped-up corpse Bee was carrying, but no one said anything.

Around noon on the fifth day, the road wound up onto a ridge that overlooked the sloping, wooded landscape to the east. There in the distance, Greensby was visible as an ugly gray bruise upon the land, a large swathe of dilapidated ruins that straddled the Winewater. It was rotted wood and broken stone, with the flapping of tattered banners and glinting of smashed glass.

“Don’t see any monsters,” Bee said, leaning forward and squinting as though that would help her see anything.

“They’re there,” Will assured her. “A lot of monsters are active at night, so right now they’ll be hiding in their holes.”

He was about to assure her that she would not have wanted them to go that way, when he heard a familiar fluttering. He held his hand high, not needing to look, and a few moments later a letter swooped down out of the air and deposited itself between his index and middle finger.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Ooh, that’s the thing you were talking about, the messaging thing!” Bee said.

“Mmhmm.” He tore open the wax paper envelope with his thumb and unfolded the paper within. There—in small, neat hand—was written:

To Deathbed,

Target has stopped moving, currently located roughly 30 kilometers north-northeast of Talltop. Suggest you hurry. Will meet you in Talltop some days hence unless target resumes travel. Will update when convenient.

P.S; Bring socks. Ran out.

-Pigeon

Will read the letter aloud to the others, then folded it back into its envelope to keep for future reference.

“Talltop is so far,” Mongrel groaned. “It’s gonna take us two fucking weeks to get there.”

“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Will pointed out. “At least we only need to travel thirty kilometers across rough country. It might still be a bit of a struggle, but it should be doable.”

Bee frowned in silence for a good while before she said: “Hold on. Did that letter come from the south, or am I that bad at directions?”

Will nodded. “It did. That’s because Pigeon didn’t send it to me directly. Two people with the Message skill have to meet in person to establish a link. Since I’ve never met Pigeon, she has to send her letters to an associate in Sheerhome, who in turn hands them over to Joe Crag, who finally sends them to me. So anything we get from her will come from Sheerhome, not where she’s at.”

“Bro, I don’t know how you put up with all this nerd shit. Makes my brain hurt.”

“Well, don’t worry your pretty little head over it then. I’ll take care of the nerd shit, and you can hold up the homicidal rampaging end.”

“Deal!”

The day progressed smoothly, except for the fact that they were slowed a bit by Lauren and Min, who had little endurance after a long time spent in bondage. He found a patch of cloudberries, and stowed maybe a hundred of them away into an empty reagent box. They had a strong joyful humor, and would make for a nice component in something soothing.

They came across two broken-down wagons. one shortly after the other, wood splintered and goods tossed around. The fact that it hadn’t all been looted yet meant that it had to be recent. There were no corpses around, though. It was like the wagons’ owners had just up and abandoned them.

It dragged on towards night, and Will started looking out for spots to make camp. Mongrel was just explaining to Nix what video porn was—a concept she was absolutely delighted by—when Will noticed something out of the corner of his eye.

A great dark shape lingering by a redwood with a pair of huge saucer eyes intently fixed on the party. He was about to turn his head to see if he was imagining things, but stopped himself once he realized what he’d caught a glimpse of.

“Everyone, keep walking and don’t look back,” he said with an attempt to exude calm, unsure how successful it was. “Mongrel, tell Number Two not to sound any alarm.”

Oatmeal immediately made to look back, and Will grasped the back of his head and kept him facing forward.

Mongrel clearly did not understand the significance of what he was being asked, but complied regardless, sending a mental command to the chimp swinging from high branches above them.

“What’s happening?” Gug asked, big hands clasped at his chest. “Is this a game?”

“Not a game,” Nix assured him, hopping down from the horse to walk on her own two feet for once. “It’s your cousin, Gug.”

“Cousin?” Gug frowned with deep confusion.

“A peeking troll,” Will clarified. “A significantly more dangerous subspecies than yours. No offense.”

By some miracle, Will got everyone to keep walking without sparing a single look backwards.

“Peeking trolls are curious creatures,” Will explained, keeping his voice neutral. “They prefer to observe their prey from a distance for a good while before attacking. Often, they try to isolate people so they can snatch them away. What they do with them after that I don’t know, but I’d imagine it ends with boiling and eating them. I’d imagine that’s what happened to those caravans we saw.”

“They are wretched things,” Nix said with obvious disgust. “Also dangerous.”

“She’s right. That means we shouldn’t fight unless necessary.”

“What do we do, then?” Bee asked.

“This one’s got its eye on us. If we keep walking and don’t acknowledge it, it’s possible it will lose interest, or latch onto somebody else we come across.

“That means no rest, certainly no sleep. We keep walking for as long as it takes. Through the night if we have to. And we stick together. If anyone needs a piss, we do it as a big, happy family.”

“Is it really as dangerous as all that?”

Bee looked like she was itching to turn around, but Will told her off with a scathing glance.

“It’s not something we want to tangle with,” Will assured her. “Nix, if it comes to a fight… You’ll need to pitch in this time, all right?”

Nix said nothing, somehow moving with grace even though she was walking barefoot in cakey mud.

“You know what’s at stake.”

The demon slowly nodded. “Yes. I’ll provide assistance this time.”

If the rest of it didn’t get the others spooked, that certainly did. The demon acknowledging that there was a need for her intervention meant that things had to be pretty bad.

They soldiered on, heedless of fatigue. When Lauren stumbled and nearly fell, Bee caught her and kept a grip on her arm to hold her upright.

Will’s skin crawled with the sensation of those enormous eyes boring into his back, never once blinking. Sometimes, he caught the lumbering form moving in his peripheral vision, darting from one tree to another in a poor attempt at stealth.

Even without getting a good look, he knew the peeking troll was damn big. It had at least a meter on Gug, maybe more.

Oh, Era. If you’re still out there somewhere, please don’t fuck us over right now.