Life went on.

In his small shred of spare time, Will toyed with divine vows for Loony, and eventually narrowed onto an execution that he thought was beneficial. In exchange for her other skills costing twice as much AP, her Illusion skill could gain the ability to target all five senses.

Normally, one cast of Illusion could only target one individual sense. You could stack them to get an illusion that touched all five, but then you’d be out 5 AP. This way would dramatically increase the potency of Loony’s illusions, letting her make entirely lifelike constructs.

There’s a big difference between seeing a fresh loaf of bread on the table, and being able to feel and hear the crunch of the crust, to smell the wholesome butteriness, to bite down on that warm softness.

The downside was that it would also dramatically increase the skill required to properly use the ability. Shaping an illusion to touch just one sense could be difficult enough, but all five senses at once was a lot to manage. Still, after what he had seen of her, he believed that she had the talent to pull it off.

She was amenable to the idea, so they locked it in. There was an immediate and visible drop in the quality of her illusions as she struggled with all the extra inputs. She redoubled her efforts, and he gave her time to figure it out. It would become second nature eventually.

Loony was the only one making any real progress with reading and writing. Bee was too stubborn to learn, and Oatmeal had the attention span of a hamster that had been dropped one too many times.

Once the Entertainer began to get somewhat of an idea of her expanded ability, Will sent her off on some simple assignments, usually to Sheerhome. Watch Crooked Dick for a day without being noticed, report on everyone he met with. Steal one of Joe Crag’s ladles, show it to Will, then return it the next day; all without being found out. Go around Bogleg’s place posing as an elderly male buyer and place an order without tipping him off that there was something wrong.

Will chose to have her go after his acquaintances so that if she failed, she wouldn’t end up with a knife in the gut or a noose around her neck. Not while she was still learning.

She did well with Dick and Crag, but Bogleg had sharper eyes than most, and he found her out quick enough. Still, two out of three was not a bad result.

Will couldn’t help but notice that Loony’s room was filling up with odds and ends. Stolen goods, presumably. In lieu of regular pay, she had started taking matters into her own hands.

He did not see a reason to reprimand her. It was certainly good practice, and he had told her to pick up a side hustle if she wanted to. He only reminded her of the consequences of getting caught, which did not seem to concern her overmuch.

Will used his successes with Loony as a salve for his failures with the elixir. He had already gone through a sizable chunk of change to procure ingredients, with nothing at all to show for it except a few high-end potions that, while theoretically helpful down the line, would not help him here.

He wasn’t getting any brighter, either. He could feel his fatigue building up each day as the clock counted down. He had not even a month left on the deadline. It was starting to get critical.

One day, there was a visitor at the house. No one Will knew. A slight man with a mild face, brown hair tied back. Level 8 Tailor. Will had not had the time to restock his pistol ammunition, leaving him with just a sword, but he had Bee by his side when he approached the visitor.

“Hello, Deathbed,” the man said with a smile that was far too knowing for Will’s taste. He eyed the sheathed axe Bee was toying with, did not appear intimidated. If anything, his amusement only grew. “I’m Kitten.”

“I’m guessing you’re here for a reason,” Will said. “Please, do elaborate.” Considering he’d called him Deathbed, which was one of his more obscure monikers, he already had an inkling who had sent him.

“I’m a friend of Pigeon’s,” Kitten explained. “I helped you correspond with her before, when you worked a job together. She sent me here with a message.”

Fuck. Will did not enjoy having his guess confirmed. “What does she want?”

“She wants to collect on your debt.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He kept his face neutral. “Mmhmm. And?”

“You’re familiar with a man named Big Deal Buck, yes?”

“Correct.”

“You’re aware that he’s running a guerilla operation against Lord Brimstone?”

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“Yes.”

“Pigeon wants you to participate. She wants you to make sure that Brimstone dies.”

Fuuuck.

“Why does she want Brimstone dead?” Will asked.

Kitten shrugged. “She did not deign to inform me.”

“You realize the magnitude of what she’s asking here?”

Another shrug. Kitten did not care.

“What if I refuse?”

Again: “She did not deign to inform me.”

By design, most likely. Pigeon had to know that Will would refuse. Which meant that she wanted him left in the dark, wondering what exactly the repercussions would be.

“Will she intervene personally against Brimstone?”

“No. She has business elsewhere, which is partially why she is hoping for your assistance. She seems to put some stock in your ability.”

Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Really encouraging.

There were no good options here. Either he went back on his debt with Pigeon and made an enemy out of her, or he went along with her request, which would most likely land him in the noose right next to Buck’s.

<> Bee’s excitement was obvious. She had never been one to abide a bully. <>

“You realize I can’t give you an answer right away,” Will said, directed at both Kitten and Bee. “Your ‘friend’ will need to have a little patience.”

Kitten smiled wider, pleased as a cat with a mouse tail sticking out of its mouth. “Of course. Buck will be holding a meeting in the afternoon two days from now in Millstone to discuss details. She only asks that you attend.”

“No promises.”

“Very well. We shall see, then.”

* * *

Will decided that he did not have much choice other than to attend. Out of the two, informing Brimstone about the conversation had to be the worse option. Even if he did as the lord had asked, there was a decent chance that he would face punishment or get caught in the crossfire regardless.

And… maybe there was some small part of him that really did hope for revenge. He held no small hatred for the man. Not only because of the eye, but for being forced to grovel at his feet like an unwanted dog. He had always swallowed his feelings, tried to follow the most rational path, but now that choice had been taken away from him. That being the case, why shouldn’t he cause that monster a little pain?

At least, that was his thinking in his more defiant moments. He blamed that on lack of sleep and his mind being coaxed by the constant rubbing against Bee’s defiant idealism.

He went to Millstone with Bee, but told no one else about it. Mongrel was solid, he knew that much. Nix too, by association. Loony and Oatmeal he wasn’t so sure about, especially the former. She had ambition, and ambition was an excellent motivator for betrayal. There was nothing to guarantee that she wouldn’t just stroll on down to Brimstone and spill everything if he left her in on what was happening.

Better to keep it on a need to know basis.

Will was not particularly impressed that Buck had chosen his old haunt for the meeting location. Before going in, he used an amped Detect Life to check in case any of Brimstone’s people had gotten wind of the meeting. No one around. That was something, at least.

Since the Millstone longhouse had been destroyed on Will’s last visit, reduced to a pile of sad rubble that stood atop the hill, Buck was meeting in one of the larger homesteads. Those that had already arrived were down in a cool basement. Bee’s head brushed on the low ceiling as they entered.

The cellar had once been used to store potatoes and other produce. That had mostly been cleared away, but the place still smelled strongly of earth. A table had been brought down there along with a number of chairs. Several candles on the tabletop brought enough light to see each other by, at least.

Will and Bee took places next to each other, opposite Buck, who was his usual upbeat self. Kitten was also there, along with Freddie Glutton, the pit fighting ringmaster. It took Will to recognize him because he was looking significantly less golden than usual, appearing like an ordinary little fat man in rough travel garb. Maybe his golden skin had just been an illusion.

Lastly, there were two rough-looking types Will didn’t recognize present. Friends of Buck’s, he could only guess.

“You came!” Buck exclaimed once they’d found seats. He slapped his hands down on the tabletop, setting the candles rattling in their holders and their flames flickering. “If only you’d brought the demon with you. I miss that old bird, I do.”

“I’m sad to say that she’s spoken for now,” Will replied, feeling not very sorry at all.

The Entertainer’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Isn’t that a surprise.” The shock in his voice was all theater. His grin didn’t slip a hair. “Well, at least you brought my star pupil with you. I’ll be happy with that.” He shot Bee a wink. “You haven’t forgotten your old teacher, have you Fumble?”

“I remember you skipping out before you could teach me much of anything other than getting my ass beat,” Bee retorted mildly.

Buck’s grin widened. “That’s skipping over some nuance, darling.”

Spotting the fourteen crystals on the man’s arm, Will cut in. “Congratulations on leveling up. Looks like you’re getting somewhere.”

Buck rubbed his left arm vigorously. “You betcha, Cancer Man. I’ve been working my ass off sticking it to old Brownstink. Guess it’s paying off.”

“Still a ways off actually, you know, beating him,” Will pointed out.

“True enough. I’ve got plans for all that. You’re not the only big thinker around here, you know.” He tapped his temple with two fingers, smirking. “Why don’t I lay it all out for you? I could really use your help to make all this come together.”

Will sighed. “Why not? We came all this way, after all.”

“Splendid, just splendid,” Buck said in a sing-song voice, evidently elated with himself.