Number Two

A human, clumsy and loud, might have had trouble getting through the forest at night. But Number Two was clever and quick, and knew how to avoid attracting the attention of bad monsters. He cleared the woods, and slipped past the torchlight of sleepy guards, and crossed big fields of wheat and barley and oats.

When he reached the wall, he looked up and saw the creeping lights of the guard humans moving on top, and waited until he saw a gap where two guard humans were moving away from each other to scale the vertical surface, then scamper across the flat top and leap down on the other side, landing on a rooftop with a crash of tiles. That drew some attention, and he overheard shouts from up on the wall as guard humans moved to check on the disturbance, but he was long gone by the time they got near.

There were a few humans drunkenly stumbling about in the streets, but none of them paid Number Two much attention as he made his way toward the place with lots of tents where the master waited for him.

It was highly unlikely that there would be any pocket stealers around at this time of night, but Number Two switched to wearing the backsack on his belly anyway, just to be safe. The master would be angry if he lost the paper monies, but it was the master’s master he really feared. He was very fond of his monies—Number Two did not know what he would do if he found out that the master had made them disappear.

Number Two might have had some trouble navigating the city at night, if not for the fact that he could see a distant haze of light in the sky from the place with the tents, and muffled noise coming from there. As long as he headed in that direction, he would get to his destination eventually.

The whore houses, which would normally have closed their doors by now, instead had them thrown wide to welcome people in, catering to the many potential customers coming from the big fighting games. Number Two stopped and gawked at a woman with very large tits who was wagging them suggestively at every other human who wandered past and coaxing them to buy some of her time with a hoarse, worn-out voice.

Humans, as a general rule, were ugly and strange and smelly, but human women? Some of them were very wonderful, and smelled like flowers. Number Two kept his distance, though—the master said it was the pretty ones you had to watch out for.

The woman screamed when she saw Number Two, and he scampered on quickly, hugging the sack to himself.

Looking over his shoulder to see if someone was following, it was only a glint of moonlight off steel in his peripheral that let Number Two notice the blade sweeping toward his neck from the front. He scrambled out of the way, feeling the rush of air pull at his fur as the sword whooshed just over his head.

The man attached to the sword was shrouded half in night shadow, the other half lit orange by a hooded lantern. There was much anger and much fear in his face.

“Boys!” the man called over his shoulder, voice echoing down the street. “We got one over here! Come quick!”

It was a guard human.

Number Two took off running, not caring what way he went. He hurried as fast as his body would go, one hand knuckling the dirty stone ground while his other clutched the backsack protectively.

Then, when he heard no footsteps in pursuit, he eventually glanced over his shoulder. No one was coming. Stopping, he saw the same guard human all the way at the end of the street, lantern fallen at his feet, struggling with something. Then he pitched backward, and an arm went tight around his throat, and ten seconds later he was rolled to the ground, another human standing away from him.

The human came trotting up the street, and Number Two got ready to bolt again, but something about the length of its strides and width of its shoulders made him think it was someone he knew.

“Monkey!” called the human, sounding female.

Number Two slumped with relief. It was the she-bear mate of the master’s master.

She soon reached him, and they hurried on together until they were reasonably certain the guard human and his friends would not find them. Then the she-bear stopped him, and squatted in front of him in the dark. “What are you doing out here, little guy?” Picking up a lapel of his vest, she peered closely at it. “Number Two, huh?”

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Number Two wanted to know what she was doing here, and began signing something to that effect, but remembered that she was a dumb human who did not understand the hand language, and gave up with an exasperated grunt.

“What’s in that bag?” the she-bear asked, pointing to the backsack.

Number Two strained his throat and contorted his mouth unnaturally to try and form a human word. “Pohhh… tahhh… tohhh.”

“Potato?”

Number Two nodded.

“Cooked?”

Another nod.

“Did you steal them?”

Number Two shook his head.

She shrugged. “All right. Can I have one?”

Number Two shook his head again.

“Aw, man.” The she-bear stood with an annoyed grunt. “Well, whatever. We should probably try and get back to the pits as soon as possible, huh?”

They continued through the sparsely peopled night streets toward the glow in the sky, and Number Two was grateful that the she-bear was a stupid human who did not ask too many questions. He did not think the master would want her to know about the paper borrowing.

* * *

Mongrel

“I think I’m developing an ulcer because of this girl,” Mongrel grumbled, tapping his foot against the darkened tunnel’s stone floor. “You’re sure you don’t know where she went?”

“I’m sure, dearest,” Nyx replied. She was lurking again. He hated when she did that. Lingering at the edge of the wall-mounted lantern’s light, her glowing eyes were about the only part of her visible through the shadow. It was downright creepy. “She was present for Ratcatcher’s fight against Henke the Hero—after that, none of my little friends have seen her.”

“Got a lot of ‘little friends’, do you?”

“I’m a popular girl, Matthew. Does that make you jealous?”

Mongrel scoffed. “Hardly. Anyone who’ll take some of your attention off me is all right in my book.”

“Matthew, how could you say such a thing?” There was a mocking pout in her voice. “That’s very hurtful, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re devastated.”

The demon moved around the circle of firelight, staying just beyond its reach, and Mongrel spun with her to avoid leaving his side exposed. The hairs on his neck prickled, and he had the distinct feeling he was about to get pounced on.

“What about the other one?” Mongrel asked. “The pretty one.”

“Pretty, is she? Don’t you know it’s bad manners to compliment one woman in front of another? Not to mention… potentially hazardous for one’s health.” He caught a flicker of sharp teeth in the dark, and instinctively put a hand on his sword hilt, despite the fact that it would do him no good even if he could get the bastard thing clear of its scabbard. Then came a bright, clipped laugh. “I’m joking, of course. Don’t you worry about Serene—she’s off on a small errand, that’s all.”

Mongrel cleared his suddenly dry throat. “All right, then. Rather than tormenting me, isn’t there something you could do to get our fighter into this damn pit? She’s going to be disqualified soon if she doesn’t show up.”

“I already have people searching the area for her. She can’t have gone very far. Me running around would hardly be any more help—not to mention highly undignified.”

Someone from the fighting association came along and told them that Sam had another minute to get her ass in the ring, or she was going to get pulled. Mongrel let out a small groan. So much money down the drain… And he could have made it big, too, if she’d gotten her ass to the finals.

Almost as soon as he’d concluded that thought, there was a great pounding of feet from the other end of the tunnel, and there was an approaching circle of light as an attendant came running alongside Sam and Number Two.

“Hey!” Sam said as she came trotting up, kicking off her shoes as she went. “I’m not late, am I?”

“Late?” Mongrel barked. “You were about to make me sprout another hemorrhoid from how tight you’ve had my ass clenched!”

“Sorry about that.”

“Sorry? I’ll—”

“Now’s not the time, dearest,” Nyx murmured softly in his ear, and he flinched as he felt the scalding touch of her fingers on his arm. “Samantha, there isn’t much time, but here’s what I know about your next opponent. His name is Holden, and he’s an Explorer who fights with a dog familiar.”

“I think I know who you’re talking about,” Sam said as she lined herself up against the door that two attendants were already in the process of unlatching, a third patting her down to make sure she wasn't carrying any weapons.

“Good. Most likely, his strategy will be to let his familiar lock you in place while he keeps his distance. He’ll debilitate you with the skill called Web—its effect is rather self-explanatory—from afar, then allow his familiar to finish you off when you're incapacitated.”

Sam nodded. “Got it.” For once, she almost looked serious.

“I don’t think you’ll have much trouble with him, as long as you stay alert. Be aggressive, take out his familiar early if you can, and the match should be yours.”

“Will do. Where’s Cherry?”

Nyx shrugged. “How should I know? I believe it was you who advised me to stay away from her.”

The Laborer did not look particularly convinced, a light frown creeping onto her face. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said, and flung the doors wide with a kick as soon as the latch was off, stepping out onto the sand with her arms raised in the air to meet the crowd’s verbal lashing.

Once the doors were shut tight again, Mongrel glanced down at Number Two, who wore a backpack strapped to his belly. ‘You got what I asked for?’ he signed, so that the lingering attendants would not overhear.

‘Got monies,’ Number Two signed back. ‘No problem.’

Mongrel nodded. ‘Good boy.’

Number Two beamed, and Mongrel gave one of the ape’s big ears a playful tug.