The next morning, which I hope is our last before we’re scheduled to leave town, Camyrn shows up at the inn. She knocks on my doorway just as I’m preparing for the day’s sleep. When I crack open the door, she tells me to come with her. I dress quickly, tug on an overcoat, and stuff my feet into my boots. After a moment’s thought, I tuck my last glass globe into my pack, just in case they want a demonstration of how I imbue.

“Ready. Where to?”

“Totten’s office again. Before you ask—no, I don’t know why. You’re entirely too popular for a criminal,” Camryn grumbles, although for once I catch a hint of amusement in her tone. The imbued glass spearhead she carries, affixed to the flexible metal shaft Mikko made for her, might have something to do with that.

“I know why. Trying to sell to your boss,” I reply confidently. “My only question was where we might end up. Must not have been any empty warehouse available this time.”

I refrain from needling her further as she leads me to the [Hunter]’s tower. I assume that we’re all looking forward to sleeping through the day, so I anticipate a fairly short meeting with Totten to discuss potential sales of my newly-crafted helm and totem sets. I’ve made three sets so far, but if they need more, then I could push myself and borrow Melina’s glass cores again. Of course, that’s contingent on the team agreeing with delaying our departure one more day. I don’t love the idea, but it might pay off in the long run.

By the time I drag myself up the stairs to the main office, fending off a yawn, Totten and Azariah are already there. The two short, surly cousins—or near enough to real cousins; it’s a distinction without a difference, Azariah assures me—are seated around Totten’s desk, sharing spiced wine with a grim-looking man I’ve never met before.

“Nuri! Thanks for joining us,” Totten says, gesturing toward an empty chair nearby. “It’s my honor to introduce you to Javier, the [Principal Hunter] of Halmuth.”

I nod in greeting and slip into my seat. I didn’t expect a third player at the table, but if I need to convince Javier in order to seal the deal, then this speeds up the process.

Javier’s coal-black eyes seem to burn as he examines me. His stare is unapologetic and direct. He slowly scans me, mana empowering his gaze, although there’s no internal intrusion in the manner [Inquisitors] perform. I don’t need to rely on my inconsistent Viewing to know that he’s sizing me up the same way that he would a monster in the Barrens, examining my weak points and evaluating my threat level.

To a [Hunter], everything looks like prey.

“This is the young glass Master?” Javier asks, not turning to Totten when he speaks. His voice is honey and wine, unexpectedly smooth and rich. It’s at odds with my mental image of a savage warrior who looks like he spends weeks in the wastelands alone, tracking down beasts and slaughtering them with extreme prejudice.

“Ain’t he a marvel?” Azariah drawls. “You shoulda seen his live glass demonstration. Had the [Traders] in a tizzy buyin his imbued work. Oh, and his crew dismantled some White-Banded Stouts on the way in. They fight like furies for crafters.”

Javier lifts one eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “More fighters are always welcome, though we’d have to more properly test their mettle.”

“I didn’t sign up to fight,” I say, feeling lost. “I’ve got imbued items that will keep [Hunters] safe on patrol. Heat and cold on demand. I understand we’ve got a tentative deal?”

“[Hunters] are hardy folk,” Javier says dismissively. “They’ll survive the harsh elements. What we truly need is more firepower to hunt that abyssal beast. Can you help?”

“You want more spears,” I say flatly. The pieces are starting to come together. Comfort is not high on their priority list. Of course not; they’re doughty survivalists. My glass set is nothing but a handful of trinkets to them. No, what they want is for me to outfit an army.

Javier nods sharply. “Naturally. I won’t commit a single [Hunter] to Totten’s crazy scheme unless I have assurances that glass is sufficient, but something has to be done.”

“My imbued work is more than sufficient,” I reply with some heat. I’m struggling to keep down a rising sense of irritation. I don’t need flattery, but I won’t suffer insults, either. I’m here to strike a quick deal and get out of this place. All I’ve found in this miserable trading post so far is heckling and pettiness. Maybe selling in Halmuth was a mistake, I think while grinding my teeth. I could have met up with caravanners on the road and bargained for better prices.

Javier holds up a hand as though to placate me. “I’m not demeaning your work, Master Nuri. But there’s a big difference between a White-Banded Stout and an Olethros. I’m sure your weapons are excellent. Know this, however: we face a city-killer, not a regular creature. Trust me when I say that you’ve never seen anything like it.”

I laugh. I can’t help myself.

“You think this is a joke?” Javier asks. Stoniness dominates his expression and voice. “I buried good men with my own hands after our last fight with that abyssal monster. Don’t spit on their memory.”

“I mean no disrespect to your lost [Hunters]. But monsters are nothing new. I’ve fought in Rifts before,” I say, meeting his gaze.

“It’s not the same,” Javier declares, gathering his dignity about him like a tattered cloak. “The Olethros is not like a monster of myth. You’ve seen our lizard mounts, yes?”

When I nod in confirmation, he continues. “It’s like their great-grandfather, except it’s the size of a warehouse. Powerful. Terrifying. Nastier than you can imagine. You seem like you’ve led an interesting life, Master Nuri. But don’t think that because you managed to survive a lesser Rift, you know monsters.”

I refuse to back down, but I force myself to speak mildly and not further provoke him. I’ve felt the raw wound of grief before; it’s probably his pain speaking, not a disagreeable disposition. I might as well be polite, since it’s not his fault that he’s ignorant of who I am and what I’ve done. “I’ve delved in lesser and greater Rifts—both wild and architected varieties, if you’re familiar with those designations. I’ve killed Rift bosses and escaped a behemoth. I know how unimaginably powerful monsters are.”

“A behemoth! That’s your claim? Really?” Javier asks. He pushes back from the table, crosses his arms, and snorts. “Why are we dealing with this scammer? Totten, I’ve put up with your wild schemes for years, but this is a step too far. Kick him out of town, and I’ll overlook the offense. I’ve got real work to do.”

“I’ve closed a lesser Rift with my bare hands. I paid the price in bone and blood,” I growl, holding up the remainder of my left arm. The skin is unnaturally smooth where the power of creation itself disintegrated my hand and a portion of my wrist. “Disbelieve me if you want, but I have a verified Writ of recommendation from the Royal Army. I’m here to negotiate with Totten, not you. I’m tired of this posturing.”

Totten chuckles. He slides a mug of spiced wine toward his [Principal Hunter]. “Javier, please, calm yourself. Let’s start over.”

“He has a Writ?” Javier demands. His formerly-pleasant voice grates like twisted metal. “Could have led with that, Totten.”

“I told you that this meeting was worth your time,” Totten snaps. His gaze grows sharp as he glares up at Javier. “Next time, just trust me.”

Javier scoffs. “Blind obedience?”

“Yes,” Totten replies wryly. “That’s typically how a chain of command works. Now, let’s all set aside the bickering and see what young Master Nuri can do for us.”

Javier’s lips thin, but he doesn’t argue.

I clear my throat and give them my sales pitch. “I’ve come here in good faith to sell my imbued thermal sets. I would have sold them to Yuvaan, a [Caravan Leader]. Irving, one of your [Hunters], chased him off. After that, no one stayed around to buy. The way I see it, I’ve been overly patient and flexible from the moment I set foot in your city, and I’ve received little to show for my trouble. I need to make some money, and you apparently need weapons. So. Let’s get this done.”

Javier taps his fingers on the desk. “Fine. But you better not be lying about the quality. I’m not interested in weapons that break every time we drop them.”

Totten clicks his tongue. “That’s a reasonable question. Before we put in an order for the glass blades, Javier will need to review their efficacy. Can’t budge on that. Weapons like this are too important not to test.”

Camryn steps forward from where she’s taken her post in the corner by the door. She offers her spear to Javier, who takes it while she talks. “I commissioned this spear from Master Nuri during the last night market. I’ve tested the blade against stone and iron, and nothing can stop it from cutting. Never seen a weapon like it. I’m certain it will pierce the Olethros’s scales if I can get close enough. Not a chip or crack after heavy training.”

Javier holds the spear gently, cradling it like he’s holding a newborn. With a faint grimace on his worn face, he flips his grip, holding the spear point-down in his right hand. His breathing slows. He holds his left hand out, palm up, and touches the spear to his skin.

“Stop!” I scream. I leap across the table, reaching out to grab the spear before he cuts his fingers off. My heartbeat thuds in my temples as I lurch forward, seeming to drown out all other sound with a drumbeat of terror. The entire world seems to slow down; the only movement is the blade.

The spearpoint descends.

My hand stretches out.

I’m too late.

A mana barrier shimmers across Javier’s hand, blinding in my Domain senses. I shudder but can’t look away. The barrier stops the tip of the blade with a faint chime, fuzzing in my vision as concepts collide. An enchanted shield? Hope flares in my heart. He’ll be all right. He won’t lose the hand and become maimed for life, like me.

Sharpness prevails. The shield breaks into pieces like shattered glass. Blood wells up in his palm.

Javier doesn’t even flinch. He withdraws the blade, methodically wipes the blood off with the edge of his cloak, and flexes his hand. Miraculously, the cut isn’t as deep as I feared. A soft pulse of Javier’s mana staunches the bleeding a moment later.

He stares at me while he unclasps a brass bracelet around his wrist and sets it down on the table. A hairline crack runs through the center of the bangle. Otherwise, it looks fine—that means it’s enchanted, and not imbued. The backlash from the barrier breaking would have destroyed his shield artifact entirely if it were an imbued item, since the concept it embodied would have been undone.

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“I hope that wasn’t terribly expensive,” Azariah says mildly, speaking up for the first time since Javier and I started arguing. He puffs on his pipe, a smug expression on his rugged face.

Javier ignores the barb. His eyes still haven’t left my face, his anger replaced by a gleam of calculation. “How long to outfit my team? Halmuth is home to forty-seven [Hunters].”

His intensity and sudden change of attitude surprises me, but I’ve been around more unnerving people. I manage to keep up my polite smile while I deliver the bad news. “Weeks of work, and we’re not staying in town that long. Besides, I’ve only got enough glass for three more spear blades.”

“You can’t leave,” Javier bursts out. “We’ll rush order more glass. I need those spears as soon as possible. We’ll requisition your help if we have to.”

“Bah, I’m the one who’ll decide that,” Totten interjects. Still, the boss looks inordinately pleased with himself, jotting down notes in a slim, leather-bound book. He glances up at me. “If I get you glass and assistants, will that speed up your work?”

“No. Assistants won’t be skilled enough. Regardless, I’m not gonna work for free. I can make my own glass, but I need mana and time—which is why you’ll have to settle for five or six more spear blades at most. I don’t have weeks to spare. I’ve got a schedule to keep. Besides, I was led to believe that the environmental set was in demand, so I already used the available glass to create helms and totems to moderate heat and cold.”

“Melt it down!” Javier says, clapping his hands together. “Simple solution.”

I work my jaw, trying to keep patient while I explain why that won’t work. “I’ve already imbued the set, and I’ll find buyers once your [Hunters] aren’t harassing my customers. Melting it down is not only a colossal waste of time and money, but a secondary concept won’t take. It would be worse than regular glass. Utterly useless.”

“I need four dozen spears for this hunt,” Javier says, thick emotion making his voice crack. “Surely your journey isn’t so important that a few extra days will change things! Listen. You’ll save hundreds of lives if we take out the Olethros. Maybe thousands!”

I roll my eyes at his hyperbole. I’m about to get up from the table and force Totten to negotiate a better deal when the door bangs open.

A young [Hunter] skids to a stop. His shoulder and chest are heaving from a long run, and terror twists his face.“Th-the Olethros!”

“Convenient,” I drawl.

It’s all starting to make sense now. The auction, Irving, all the wild stories—they’re just trying to negotiate a better price for weapons. They’ve been playing me this entire time.

Javier disregards my sarcasm. His eyes lock onto the young man, and the burning fervor in his gaze is enough to make me rethink my cynicism. “What’s going on, Orav? Breathe. Focus on your report.”

“Caravan. Wiped out,” Orav rasps, still sucking wind. “They—disregarded—they thought the travel ban—not important.” He pants for a moment, hands on his knees while he tries to catch his breath and get his words out in an orderly fashion. Orav finally straightens up and delivers the rest of the bad news. “They left this morning. Ignored our warnings about traveling during the daylight hours. Wouldn’t listen to our advice. Got attacked. Only one survivor.”

Javier springs to his feet. “I need your spear more than you do,” he barks at Camryn, though it doesn’t escape my notice that he still hasn’t given it back yet. “Gather the [Hunters]. We’ve got a monster to kill.”

“It got away before we could tag it with a tracking artifact, Sir,” Orav says. “Not sure how we’ll find it again.”

Totten claps his hands together, making Orav jump. “Azariah, track it for us! You’re the most skilled [Pathfinder] around.”

“He’s already contracted to guide us to Gilead,” I protest, my annoyance slowly turning into true anger. “We’re not getting pulled into your trouble.”

Javier spins around, his grip on my imbued spear tightening. Rage glimmers in his dark eyes. “This is why I hate visitors. Traders, crafters, sightseers. Doesn’t matter. You’re all alike! You selfish, spineless—”

“Enough of that,” Totten declares. “We’ll work together to face this threat. Javier, stand down. I said stand down! That is an order!”

Javier bristles, but he lowers the glass spear. His jaw clenches, and a vein throbs on his forehead. “I will not let a crafter run roughshod over my city. We need Azariah.”

Totten sips his mug, buying time. “We’ll work something out. Why don’t you prepare the [Hunters], Javier? Now, Master Nuri, we’ll need your weapons as soon as possible. Whatever it takes. Just get them done. I don’t care if you have to stay up three days in a row to finish them. Make it happen.”

I refuse to be a slave again.

My breath quickens, and my fingers tremble as I consider whether or not I can fight my way free. There are only four of them. I force myself to relax. I don’t want to drag my friends into a bigger mess. “No. I’m taking my team and leaving.”

“Master Nuri, try to think things through logically,” Totten says quietly. The complete lack of aggression in his voice gives me pause. He clasps his hands and looks at me like a favorite old uncle who’s vaguely disappointed, as if imploring me to heed his words. “We need all hands here. Leaving now is as dangerous to you as it is to us.”

That’s their angle, huh? I scowl, realizing that I’m neatly caught in their net.

I take a step backward, priming my mana. Totten acts sincere, but I don’t know him. Not really. I’m tired of everyone else dragging me around. I have places to be, and more demanding masters to serve. I shake my head at the boss. “Not my problem. I’m tired of all the manipulation and fear. We’re done.”

Totten sips from his mug, answering calmly, as though we’re all still friends. “Master Nuri, no one’s safe to leave while that foul beast roams the Barrens. If an entire caravan can’t defend themselves against the Olethros, then how will your team of crafters fare?”

“We’ll take our chances.”

“Count me out,” Azariah says.

I glare at the traitorous [Pathfinder], but before I can berate him for his cowardice, Totten reaches for a short, densely-engraved iron rod. His mana sinks into it, and a dull, pale glow fills the room as an enchantment activates.

“I was afraid you might say that, Master Nuri,” Totten says, sighing heavily. “This takes priority over everything else. The only way to continue your journey is by assisting us. Securing the safety of Halmuth is to your benefit, whether you want to or not.”

“I will not be exploited,” I snarl, drawing on my [Arcane Domain] to seize the mana in the room. I’m outnumbered, but a burst of sharpness will likely kill everyone in my range. Whatever artifact Totten’s got, it’s not likely to be higher quality than the one Javier already broke.

My mind races. I can cut my way free, or use [Vitrification], like I did with Scalpel. If I run, I can make it back to the others and slip town before the rest of the [Hunters] realize we’re gone. With any luck, they’ll be busy with the Olethros and won’t chase us down.

“We have laws here, despite what you might think,” Totten continues, his voice firming. “You will be well compensated for your time, and you’ll be free to go once this is done. But we need your help, like it or not.”

“Shatter it all,” I hiss after a moment of weighing the likely outcomes. I let go of my mana and clench my fist. Just when I think I’ve gotten out of trouble, fate goes and pulls me back in. Every single time! But if the Olethros is as menacing as it sounds, then most likely Totten isn’t wrong about the dangers of traveling while it’s prowling the region. I probably need their help just as much as they need mine—and fighting my way free is foolish without my team’s help.

Besides, making a lifelong enemy out of the most influential man in the Barrens doesn’t exactly seem smart. It’s certainly not conducive to our long-term survival.

I lift my chin defiantly. “You say you’re not going to press me into service. But what if I say no? What’s your leverage?”

“I’m not going to threaten your team, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Totten replies slowly. He lifts the iron rod. “But I will enforce a [Binding Contract] if you’re inclined to argue.”

“Just go along with it. Better this way,” Azariah says. “No meddlin [Traders]. Don’t waste time with yer trinkets. They need weapons, not the comforts of home.”

“Fine, we’ll join your hunt. I’ll make your weapons,” I say bitterly. “But it better be worth my time.”

“We’ll pay,” Totten says soothingly. “Try to make haste tonight, though. Javier is itching to get in the saddle, but we’ll all do better if we sleep through the heat of the day. Let’s regroup and plan at nightfall.”

“Trail’s likely cold either way,” Azariah says. “Sleep’s smart. We can strategize later.”

“Won’t you just follow it with your Skills?” Javier asks. “I’ve got some tracking ability, but you’re a dedicated [Pathfinder]. Leave the fighting and planning to us.”

Azariah shakes his head. “Skills help. Relyin on em instead of using yer head is just plain stupid. Lock down travel. Poison non-essential water holes. Slaughter its prey. Starve it out and remove options until it’s forced to go to ground. Then I’ll find the path to its lair.”

With that, the last details click into place in my mind. It’s been a trap all this time, and I walked into it willingly. I’m shaking with fury, but I keep a tight rein on my emotions.

“Slow,” Javier complains, his face twisting into a frown. “We can’t expect travelers to sit pretty. Sounds like a waste of time.”

“Smart, not slow,” Azariah counters, blowing smoke toward the [Principal Hunter]. “Want my help? Do it my way. Trust me: it’s the best way forward. Still need the glass-maker’s spears, though. Impressive cuttin power.”

Hemmed in by their trap, I can only concede defeat. I hate it, but I don’t know what else to do if I want to get my team out intact. I tilt my head toward Totten and paste on a smile. “All right. I’ll do it. Rakesh will handle the particulars of the contract. He’s a traveling scholar from the Silaraon City Academy, and our treasurer.”

“Wise choice,” Totten says, beaming.

“Frankly, I don’t like you, Totten. I’ll help you since there’s no other way for us to continue on our journey. But after this? We’re done. I’m blacklisting Halmuth. Permanently.”

Totten’s smile never wavers.

Incensed at the turn of events, I storm out, Azariah on my heels. Camryn glances my way, looking guilty, but I brush past her without a word. I can find the inn by myself.

On the way to the [Hunter]’s Lodge, I ask the question that’s been threatening to drown out all my other thoughts. It’s roaring in the back of my mind, urgent and deafening, and I can’t ignore it any longer. “Azariah, tell me honestly: Did Totten order the [Hunters] to scare off all the [Traders] at the market?”

Azariah spits to the side as usual, but for once he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Scare em? What for?”

Something about his posture is just defensive enough to confirm my worst suspicions. My shoulders slump. So, this is what disappointment feels like. “Obviously, Totten wanted me to be desperate enough to sell to him at a reduced price.”

Azariah sends smoke swirling around his head in a complex weave. “No one’s forcin you to be ‘desperate,’ or whatever you wanna call it. Sounds like yer own problem.”

My frown deepens. Even now, he’s deflecting. “Tell me the truth. Are you splitting the proceeds with Totten?”

“Course I am! You asked me to arrange a deal. Why should anyone else get our money? Better to keep it in house,” Azariah says, staring at me like I’m stupid.

“I see. That’s what you get out of things. The vaunted way forward.” I bite out the words.

“Yep. That’s the way forward,” Azariah agrees. He blows a smoke circle up into the sky and squints at me. “What’s yer problem?”

“What’s my problem? You’ve been playing me from the start! All the mumbo jumbo about finding the best path forward—it was all to line your own pockets, and I bought it. I can’t believe I fell for the act,” I growl.

Azariah shrugs. “I found the best way to fix things. I ain’t a [Sage] or [Seer]. Didn’t know about the beast. But I was right. It worked out in the end, so what’s the problem?”

My anger is a dull, muted thing, but it’s growing hotter by the moment. “Selling spears to them isn’t a problem. Manipulating me? That is! Face it, this is the same strategy you’re using on the Olethros, isn’t it? Cut off all resources and escape paths. Leave no other options.”

Azariah holds his hands out wide, gathering even more smoke around his stout body as though preparing for a fight. “What does it matter? Ya got yer money, same as me. Totten owes us an enormous favor now. We earned an ally today, Nuri. Everyone wins. Let it go.”

“There is no ‘we,’ anymore,” I snarl, glaring at our guide. “You didn’t gain anything. You lost an ally, Azariah.”

“Who, you?” He snorts derisively.

“Yes, me!” I shout back. “Trust is a costly commodity. And after the stunt you pulled, you can’t afford the price anymore.”

“What about the Olethros? Ya gonna back out of the big hunt? Try to wriggle out of yer contract, mebbe sabotage the glass spears?” Azariah has the gall to look at me with disapproval as he spits out his rapid-fire questions.

I sneer. “Hardly. Unlike some people, I’m honest. I say what I mean. I gave my word. I’ll do the job. Just like I’ll follow you to Gilead since we have a contract. But now I know I gotta watch my back the entire way.”