Nerves filled Forerunner. Even leading a dance and song recounting her time in the other dungeons didn't settle her nerves. She stood up from a crouch, a little more comfortable now in her added height and shape, and reached out one hand to the huge crystal beside her. Well, not huge compared to Travis and hardly even on the same scale as Breeze, but she liked her home better than the two of them and wanted to defend the growth they'd made. "The dragon will come today," she said.

The rush of growth in the dungeon had been the result of having so many resources, but the dungeon knew it was an excuse as well. It had five floors and had stocked each with three bosses—but none were as big and powerful as its matriarch—Forerunner. She who goes first and comes back. She who leads. She who brought the dungeon its greatest boon and its headache.

After some time standing there, Forerunner leaned closer and shoved her head against the crystal, making a soft growl-grunt noise.

The dungeon made a soft whine back to Forerunner and got a lick for its show of affection. "I know! I need to make a decision and I have spent ten days doing everything except that. I want to be strong, and stand on my own, but I read what the dragon said without words. If we don't accept their help, they will attack us like the goblins, killing all and maybe even shattering me."

When Forerunner didn't reply, the dungeon realized it was its own decision to make. It mused at the problem of retaining its autonomy and not being slaughtered for existing, and came up with what it hoped would lead to a solution. "If only we'd been one of the first dungeons, we could have been as big as them already."

"Whatever your choice, your pack is with you." Bumping her head against the crystal again, Forerunner jerked at the sound of shouting. "She's here?"

The newfound resolve the dungeon had practically evaporated as they spotted the dragon outside the wooden palisade that they'd built around their entrance. What surprised the dungeon was that a single kobold slid off the dragon's back and landed on the forest floor.

"My name is Stephan. I speak for the city of Northridge, the dungeons Travis and Breeze, and myself. I would have an audience with your dungeon."

The gnoll dungeon had expected the dragon to be the negotiator. By all the rules of society it knew, the biggest and strongest should be in charge. It growled out and its minions lowered their spears; except for one.

Stephan looked up at the gnoll with a fearlessness that had grown from the certainty that the worst they could do was kill him. "You're standing in my way." When the gnoll bared its teeth, Stephan sighed and turned around. "Looks like the dungeon doesn't want to talk. Ten days are up. We will take this as an act of hostilit—"

"Wait!" Forerunner had never moved so fast in her life. When her dungeon had relayed what the kobold had said, she had dashed all the way to the entrance before he'd even finished his sentence. "You were told to stand down," she said, marching up to the gnoll who'd challenged Stephan and striking them in the side of the head.

Stopping in his tracks, Stephan turned and did his utmost to not be intimidated by the huge gnoll "Are you Forerunner?" Their nod confirmed his suspicion that the gnoll matriarch, easily ten feet tall and looming every inch of it, was the same gnoll that they'd made initial contact with. "And you don't wish to challenge Northridge, Breeze, Travis, and myself to a fight?"

The dungeon realized where things had gone wrong when Stephan had repeated the wording. He represented the other dungeons and the city. When its minion had challenged him, he'd taken it as a challenge to all that he represented. It wasn't an interpretation that was obvious until it was pointed out in that way, and the dungeon realized how carefully it would have to proceed. "Tell them they are welcome within me and won't be harmed or challenged."

"No. It's hard for the younger ones. They grow fast and think with muscles." Glad to be talking, Forerunner gestured to the dungeon entrance. "Come. You will be safe and unchallenged in my home. We will talk."

Glancing back at Penelope, Stephan nodded to her and followed Forerunner into her dungeon. The most immediate thing that felt different from Travis, at least in his early days, was the light. There were smoldering torches spaced along the walls irregularly, but close enough that his eyes could pick out the floor and the shapes of rooms as they passed them.

It was a whole underground village. Small wooden buildings were built into otherwise empty rooms. Gnolls worked practically everywhere. Cutting wood up, breaking stone, and even making weapons. "You have grown well from our gift of resources? How many floors are you now?"

"We have five now and are working on a sixth. How long did it take you to make that hard metal?"

"More than a year; three hundred and fifty days." The information wasn't all that useful, in Stephan's reckoning, given how much Travis had already handed the gnolls. "You won't be joining, will you?"

"My home says no, but has some things to talk about. We can't trust you this quickly, but we should not be enemies." It surprised Forerunner to see Stephan smile at that. She thought the words would enrage or upset him, but her dungeon was adamant that she say them. "That isn't bad?"

"No. That's very good. I was afraid you would see this as an ultimatum. That you'd think anything short of capitulation would result in extermination. I am glad there are things to discuss." The floor led down to the next, and Stephan realized that unlike Breeze, the gnoll dungeon was not building itself for ease of access.

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They moved in silence unbroken except for the sounds of gnolls around them working. Stephan took careful note of how much growth the dungeon showed from what Penelope had described the first time she'd visited. "You've grown fast. That's good. If this goes well, I could take you back to walk through Travis again and get more resources. Breeze has more floors, too."

The statement caused Forerunner to stop in her tracks. "More? How many?"

"We aren't sure exactly, since it takes so long to find where she squeezes them in, but I suspect she's adding one a day now." Stephan let out a sigh. "Travis has been researching her type of dungeon, and most don't seem this active. There hasn't been a verdant dungeon on record that's as large as she is."

Grunting, Forerunner started off again and, soon enough, they were approaching a room with a different glow from the fires throughout the rest of it. She watched as Stephan entered, turned his full attention to the heart, and bowed deeply.

"Forgive my earlier treatment, but you must understand I cannot allow any challenge to those I represent to slide by without acknowledgment, as I am sure your boss would not." Trying not to couch his words too much, Stephan nonetheless wanted to start off on the right foot. "As I said, my name is Stephan. I am the second minion Travis acquired and though I am not a boss, he trusts me as his voice in matters where he cannot be heard himself. You don't wish to ally with us and join the city, I understand, so what is it you wish?"

It was somehow both the most and least direct language the gnoll dungeon had ever heard. The words seemed to twist and shape themselves to new forms that had multiple meanings. It had to swim through the pool of possibilities and state what it wanted. "We work, you pay. We fight, you pay. Sell us tools and weapons, and gnolls fight and work. It's what gnolls do best. Tell them that."

Hearing Forerunner explain the dungeon's intent, Stephan smiled. It was a smile full of teeth that he knew could bite through bone or cut down an argument with ease. "That would be acceptable. So we will be business partners, with trust built on hard work and payment?"

Nodding her head, Forerunner replied as instructed. "Yes. Gold, food, and wood."

"Do you grow floors with those, or is there something else?"

Tilting her head to the side a little, trying to make sense of the concepts her dungeon was giving her, Forerunner paused a moment to get things straight. "The dungeon grows from the strength of the pack, but needs resources for that too. Strength is physical, magical, and reputation."

"Did those adamantine weapons increase your strength?"

"Yes. Much strength."

"Then we can pay you in gold, wood, food, and strength. As an ally—even outside the city—there is one other important thing Travis and the city of Northridge want made clear: your minions are not disposable. If anyone dies, bring their body to us and we will bring them back. No cost."

The vehemence surprised the dungeon. "I agree to the deal, if you do. We will have to decide on prices, but this works."

----------------------------------------

"He won't see you."

"Huh?" Lifting her head from where she'd been making careful notes in her journal, Elanor looked at the man who'd spoken to them. She stared for a few moments, paying attention to his deep green eyes, fashionable clothes, and in particular the sword and pistol at his waist.

"Your Highness," Brevity said, dipping her head.

Snapped out of her daydream of fighting alongside a brave, swashbuckling knight with a sword and a gun, Elanor managed to sputter out, "Oh! S-Sorry, Your Highness."

"Father is feeling his oats these last few days. He's in finer form than he has been for a while, and he is using his time to tackle serious matters. Follow me." Leading the way and expecting to be followed, Stewart Gallant took the pair to his own private office and had one of his personal guards close the door behind them. Once within, he lifted out a scarab brooch from his desk and activated the little thing.

When the wings of the beetle snapped out, a crackle filled the air and two bright sparks—one from the ceiling and one under the desk—flared and then went out. "Scrying nodes?" Brevity asked, and got a nod.

Stewart answered, "Yes. I am sure it has something to do with this spy problem you have in the north. Normally I take them in stride and feed them false information, but today is a touch more important. With my father in good health, I have a window to act. Your own spy, I understand, has been dealt with?"

"Y-Yes," Elanor said, somewhat sheepishly. "My uncle sent one of his agents to attack the city and destabilize it, so he could invest me as its leader." The single raised eyebrow on the prince's face made her gulp. "I… uh…"

Brevity decided to save the young woman before she implicated herself in regicide by mistake. "It wasn't Elanor's fault. She was being used as a playing piece in a game she wanted nothing to do with. She is renouncing her family tomorrow morning."

"That would make you the niece of the Marquess of West Reaches?" Waiting for a nod, Stewart went on. "You are sure you wish to break ties with your family? You have the means to pay your own way?"

Eyes wide, Elanor nodded. "T-Travis has instructed me in combat, and is helping me to train. He even gave me use of some of his minions and I am working for him to pay him back, uh, sir."

"Sounds like you have landed on your feet running. Consider your ties to what used to be your family broken. That's one thing I have the authority to do without consulting my father." Making a quick note on some parchment, Stewart made a second copy and used his magical seal to stamp both. "Here."

Taking the slip of paper, Elanor looked at it in disbelief.

> I, Stewart Gallant, Crown Prince of the Greater Trade Kingdom, do announce to all, both noble and common, that the lady Elanor be not a member of the Fitzgerald household any longer. She is freed from the requirements of nobility and bound to the laws of commoners.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Bubbling excitement gave Elanor the confidence to speak aloud her thanks.

"You will be returning along the northern railway tomorrow?" Stewart asked. At the nod from Brevity, he smiled. "Then you will surely have room for a young noble and his footman. I wish to speak to the leader of Hearthhome and discuss what I can do to assist in her efforts to clear her earldom of these pests."

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