The hairs rose on the back of my neck. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Ezin said with a smile that lacked any warmth whatsoever. “Nicola here told me about your run-in with the Wood Elves. I find it hard to believe they were in the wrong.”

“That kind of accusation—” Nicola said.

“Quiet, child,” Ezin countered.

The simple order stopped her in her tracks.

Mathideus stroked his chin. “What level are you, Damien?”

“He’s level 15,” Ezin said, without giving me a chance to reply.

Crap. He had [Identify] too?

“That makes things a tad implausible,” Mathideus said. “No one of his level can handle silver-ranked monsters. Definitely not the type the wild god loves to seed.”

“And yet,” Ezin said, “the Wood Elves believed him to be the culprit. You won’t find a better tracker than a Wood Elf ranger in all of Bargheria. If they had a reason to suspect him, it wasn’t without merit.” He leaned forward in his chair. “So, what would it be, Damien? Ready to talk? Or are you still going to hedge?”

I pondered my answer. “I’ll satisfy your curiosity if you answer a question of my own.”

Ezin blinked, and then he chuckled beneath his breath. “Very well, elf. Ask away. And, should I dislike the question, I will refuse to answer.”

That was much better than I’d hoped. “I am searching for an item called a spirit orb. What do you know about this?”

“A spirit orb?”

“Yes. Round, glowy thing. About the size of a tennis ball. Looks to be made from pure energy.”

Ezin glanced at Mathideus, who shrugged in turn.

“I have never heard of this spirit orb,” Ezin said, “or tennis, for that matter. It sounds like an alchemical concoction. But, expert alchemists don’t come easy in Bargheria.”

I deflated. “Oh . . .”

“I would advise you to visit the guild library though. Chances are, even if I do not know it, someone else has written about it.”

“Oh!” I didn’t know the guild had a library. That was the kind of resource I needed in this world.

“You would answer my question then?” Ezin said, crossing his arms.

I glanced at Nicola. It felt like a jerk move to reveal this after she had defended my innocence. But, I had given my word . . .

“I didn’t kill the silver-ranked monsters,” I said. “Two of them annihilated each other, however, while trying to kill me.”

Nicola’s eyes widened.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “The Wood Elves weren’t wrong, but they also weren’t right.”

“A victim of circumstance,” Mathideus said, sitting up in his chair. He gave me his full attention now unlike earlier. "That sounds crazy enough that it might just be true."

“Would this put me in trouble?” I asked, feeling a tad uneasy. “I get the feeling your people hate messing with Dreadwood.”

“It’s hard to predict the wild god's reaction,” Mathideus said. “We often send young adventurers out into the woods to . . . bleed them, if you will. A higher-ranked chaperone always follows along, so it is not unheard of for such parties to kill strange creatures.” He paused. “You’re probably the first iron ranker to face three silver-ranked monsters and survive. That’s some devil’s luck.”

Ezin kept his dark gaze fixed on me. What else did he want me to say? I’d already admitted the truth.

“Ezin?” Mathideus said.

The guildmaster snapped out of his stupor. “I believe him. He doesn’t seem to be lying.”

I sighed in relief.

“The goblin matter still needs to be dealt with,” Ezin continued. “The upcoming festival leaves us short on manpower. But, I should be able to organize a small party to investigate. Would you like to join them, Damien?"

I shook my head. Without spirit orbs, I wouldn't live long enough to see out the mission. However, I had another request.

"Can you deliver a message to a bunch of Wood Elves . . .?"

Nicola and I left the cabaret office a full hour later. Ezin had grilled me about the goblins, and then he’d asked again about the silver-ranked monsters I’d encountered.

I told him what I could but withheld some information, lest his line of questioning should extend toward Harkonean. He didn’t seem interested in that, however, but he'd raised an eyebrow when I informed him of my wish to join his guild.

He gave his endorsement, regardless, which was good enough for me. All I needed to do was take his written note to the clerks and register as a member of the guild.

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Sadly, Ezin had other matters to discuss with Mathideus, so I couldn’t grovel at the latter’s feet to gain entry into his party.

“I’m sorry,” I told Nicola as we descended. “I should have said something when the Wood Elves confronted us.”

Nicola shook her head. “You were protecting yourself, and it all worked out in the end. It’s just . . . I wonder if Isaac would have lived if we'd never met.”

Ouch.

She caught the look on my face and raised her hands to her lips. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean it that way, Damien. You saved us from the goblin attack. I just can’t help but think about how badly everything went. This was supposed to be routine.”

We re-entered the lobby.

“Would your siblings be alright?” I asked. “What with Ezin docking your pay . . .”

Nicola steeled her gaze. “We’ll get by. I spent my last paycheck securing their necessities. As long as nothing major happens, they should be good for a month.”

I stopped at the back of the smallest queue, behind some guy in wizard robes. I still hadn’t forgotten Nicola’s generosity at the city gates. “You know, I don’t have much leftover, but if you'd like a share—”

“No, Damien. It hasn’t gotten to that. I can make some money selling off my gear in a pinch. It’s just . . . adventurers are usually placed on a blacklist after big failures like the last mission. I’ll have a tough time finding lucrative jobs for a while. But, that won’t stop me.” She balled her fists. “I will take whatever shitty quests I get until I propel myself back up the ladder. I can also work harder at the cult.”

“You don’t need to do any of it alone, Nicola. Let me help you. Let us work together.”

Nicola ducked her head. Her lips wavered, and she blinked a few times at the ground.

I had her. One more push and I could snag her into my party . . . which sounded a bit sinister were it not for the fact that I was also at my wit’s end.

It also helped that I really liked Nicola. Not the same way I liked Mavari, of course, but just as close. It didn’t matter that there were better spellcasters in the guild. She was the kind of person I enjoyed hanging out with.

A hush fell over the hall, drawing my attention much too late. The adventurers around us scattered, abandoning their positions in the queues. I turned around and locked gazes with Byron.

His freezing aura was nowhere to be found, but the intensity of his glare chilled me regardless.

“You,” Byron said.

Yes, me, I wanted to retort, but my jaw clamped shut in his presence. A single [Fear] notification flashed past my sight, a harsh reminder of how much the enemy outclassed me.

Byron’s eyes roved over my face, then settled on Ezin’s recommendation that sat in my hand. “You’d be foolish to go along with that. Do you think I would ignore the insult of yesterday?”

“Oh?” a new voice said. “What’s this? The Dark Elf and his whore dared to show their face?”

Beelith entered the guild, alongside the rest of Red Wyrm. They gathered around us, adopting postures that made it seem like they only wanted to talk. But, their sneers were wide and eyes narrowed.

Once again, I remembered dad and his withering glare on the day of mom’s funeral. No one had made me feel like that in a while. And, I wouldn’t condone it.

Beelith ran a finger across Nicola’s cheek. “Strange. The few times I saw you, you always looked like you were willing to bend over at the slightest request.” Her finger ran down to Nicola’s chest, growing a claw in real-time. “Dresses like this don’t suit a mindless slut like you. But, I guess you're beyond help—not after running through everyone in Skeelie twice.”

“I’m not a mindless slut,” Nicola said in a small voice.

“Even worse,” one of the casters said, “you’re a sister of carnality!”

I was starting to tell the caster brothers apart. One had a wider nose and carried a staff—a Mage then, going by [System] descriptions. The other was presumably a Warlock.

Beelith continued. “I guess that explains why she is willing to cavort with an elf.” She eyed me with a curled upper lip. “Imagine sleeping with that thing. Ugh. Aren’t you scared of disease?”

Say what now?

The Mage laughed. “Oh, you know nothing about this whore. She’s supposedly their brightest member at the temple or something.”

His brother joined in. “She's the one whose family is indentured to the bank, huh? I guess that makes sense. Owe the merchants that much money and you would be willing to cavort with anyone, even if they look and smell like him.”

I almost grabbed The Blackreach Dagger there and then. Not because of the insult to myself. But, because of the barb at Nicola.

Byron watched me with calm, blue eyes.

Jeez. What was I thinking, allowing myself to get riled up by kids? This game of theirs was far beneath me. I should just grab Nicola and leave.

Beelith inserted her claw into Nicola’s cleavage. “What say you, whore? Wouldn’t it be better for me to rip this and reveal your shame?” She lowered her finger, causing a tear in the fabric. “A family of slaves. What do you discuss at dinner, I wonder? About what fat merchant your youngest managed to blow—?”

My eyes widened. Not at her words. But, at the slap that collided with Beelith’s face. It went off like a gun, resounding across the hall.

Beelith and Nicola both suffered damage to their health. And, everyone else—myself included—froze at the sight.

The clerks were first to move, disappearing from behind their desks.

“Don’t you dare,” Nicola said, eyes burning with rage.

The members of Red Wyrm looked on in stunned silence. Then, Beelith growled. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she did. Sharp claws popped from her fingers. “You fucking bitch.”

“What’s going on here?” Ezin said, making his entrance with Mathideus. “Haven’t I made it clear that no fighting is allowed on guild grounds?”

Beelith removed her claws from my throat. I didn’t even realize I had moved to intersperse myself between the two women.

“We did nothing of the sort, sir,” Beelith said.

Ezin glared at her teammates. “Byron? What is the meaning of this?”

Byron didn’t reply.

Despite the rest of his party backing away in the face of the guild master, Byron remained unfazed. If anything, he treated the guild master’s presence with casual disdain—a display that caused deep grooves to form in Ezin’s face.

Good lord. Did Byron not care that Ezin was stronger than him? Or, was he just unhinged? How had the rankers of Skeelie put up with his antics for so long?

Byron ignored the directed question. Instead, he leaned closer to me. “This is the second time you have been saved by someone else, elf. There won’t be a third.”

“No fighting on guild grounds,” I teased, “or among colleagues.” I raised Ezin’s recommendation. “I guess we are both beholden to guild rules now unless you wish to break them.”

“Unless,” Byron agreed. “But the festival begins in a week. Anything goes within the dungeon.” He patted my shoulder. “Try not to participate.”

He stalked out of the guild, taking his cronies with him. All, except Beelith.

“Do you have something to say, Molochia?” Ezin asked.

“No, sir,” Beelith said. She shot Nicola a black look and whispered some choice words beneath her breath.

And then, she was gone, leaving the onlookers to breathe a sigh of relief.