Thomas was an overweight dog with big bug eyes and a scrunched-up black face, though the rest of him was a light brown. His tiny curled tail all but disappeared when he sat, making even Ash’s seem full in comparison. Thomas’s lips shuffled uncomfortably, chewing on nothing as he stared at the book. “While I hold the highest respect for Issac and the company he represents, I can’t determine the potential profits of this ‘UNI.’ Despite warehouses saying they’ve shipped in a considerable amount of cargo, I can’t find any record of their ships docking at our port.”

Issac sat at the glass table between the two, face lit from the light falling from The Lodge’s third-story, a glass of wine perched between his fingers.

“This is neutral territory,” Ash countered. “Your port’s a convenience, not a requirement. Unfortunately, without a guaranteed buyer, such conveniences are more than our fledgling union can bear. As you can imagine, people accustomed to island life are adept mariners, so they’ve found alternative landing sites.”

The heavy man made a displeased grunt. “I see, and should I support this union becoming a substandard supplier, your islanders will... forget these alternative landing sites?”

“Naturally,” Ash said, offering a pen. “Syndicate companies support each other, right?”

With a low groan, Thomas looked over the warehouse record, then accepted the pen. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Our port isn’t always at full capacity; what harm could a dozen Tythic ships do?” Thomas scribbled his name in support of Ash joining the syndicate, provided Ash’s imaginary ships only unloaded cargo at Direwood Syndicate ports. After a firm handshake, Thomas departed, leaving only Ash, Issac, and their hunters.

“You’re a natural,” Issac said, shifting out of the sunlight and into Thomas’s empty seat.

Ash snickered. “They’re your words. I’m basically a parrot.”

“Ah, but such a charming parrot,” Issac said, dragging the book close to double-check the signatures and wording. “Keep this up and we’ll make you a member before the season’s out. Then you’ll be invited back to interrupt my vacation with a new political firestorm every year.”

“It’s nice up here. I’m looking forward to it,” Ash agreed. “Although I can’t help but notice everyone else is in a worse mood than you, despite not having me to pester them.”

“They’re just not seeing what makes this place so special.” Issac scribbled the agreement into his book, marking himself as a witness. “Okay, we’ve got a bit over a third of the votes we need. Clive is a firewood supplier, so he should be easy to convince if you sign an agreement that you won’t ship in firewood.”

“I can’t imagine that’ll be a problem,” Ash mused. “The Northern Isles aren’t exactly known for forestry. We’ll meet with him tomorrow?”

“I’ll need a few days to hunt,” Issac said, shutting his book and handing it to one of his girls. “Despite calling it my vacation, I’m technically here as a company representative, and it’s not a good look if the pack they gave me loses standing. Worry not, we’ve got weeks, and we’re making good time.”

Ash glanced over his shoulder to Khukri. “If you need a decent hunt, why not take me along? Khukri here’s a tracking specialist and a wolf; she can find your girls a suitable target.”

Issac furrowed his brow, looking Khukri over. “I don’t have a wolf in my pack for a reason. No offence, but they’re just not worth the risk.”

“Risk?” Ash asked, holding his hand to the side. “It’s not your wolf. If she goes feral, that’s not your money, and I’m the only one above her in the order, so she’ll come after me, not your girls.” Khukri knelt, pressing her head into Ash’s palm to get him to pet her. “Besides, you’re a good girl, aren’t you Khukri?”

“Yes, Master.”

The girls around Issac watched Khukri with their usual confusion and repulsion, but Issac leaned in, watching Khukri squirm beneath Ash’s hand. “I’ll admit, this whole week she’s been rather...”

“Obedient?” Ash offered.

“Docile.”

Ash chuckled, pulling Khukri’s head onto his armrest. “Don’t let her fool you. I saw what she did to that velkammer. I’m just saying, without you I’ll be wasting my day anyway, and I’m sure Khukri’d like to stretch her legs. Why not try out a wolf tracker and a bit of company?”

***

A stream of air left Ash’s lungs as he knelt in the middle of his empty tent, hiding from the teeth of the early morning’s frigid bite. From the other side of the fabric, Khukri’s silhouette danced with the sun, accompanied by the whoosh of her new spear cutting through the mist. It was nearing the end of the seventh week after all, and the poor girl was worried she’d be too rusty to impress Issac. Not that it mattered anymore.

Ash downed another mouthful of horrible ale, then capped the flask and dropped it into his pack. Seven weeks down, with only five to go before a confrontation with Via became a certainty, and despite what his trembling hands would have him believe, things couldn’t be going smoother. It was Khukri’s doing that he’d managed everything in only seven weeks, with her bright-eyed, bushy-tailed optimism and boundless drive. Ash already owed her, and if this performance kept up, he’d owe her more by day’s end.

With brittle, fraying nerves, Ash retrieved the only storage box he hadn’t relocated to the District 4 location and popped it open. Inside, he found a sealed glass jar with a length of dirty linen. He quickly cracked open, tied the cloth around his arm, then set the jar back inside. Next, he shuffled through all his paperwork until he found one he wanted. After folding it into a little pouch, he replaced the stack, then covered it all with Khukri’s bedroll and sealed it.

Ash slipped on his long-sleeved shirt over the linen, then added his cloak before rising and shouldering his pack. A grin spread across his face, his hands steadying as he took a wistful look at the tent where he’d spent so many nights in Khukri’s arms. This wasn’t the most heroic start for a divine knight, but in retrospect, it wasn’t a terrible way to go.

Khukri hurried to his side the moment he left the tent with an eager smile. “It’s time?”

“It’s time,” Ash confirmed, lifting the crate. “Here, I need you to drop this off at the warehouse for me.”

“Yes, Master.” They swapped crate and spear, then Khukri ran ahead.

By the time he caught up, Khukri was already waiting. After returning the spear, he lifted the paper-filled pouch. “Khukri? Come here, I want you to hold onto something for me.” She cocked her head, but obeyed, letting Ash unbuckle the pocket at her hip to deposit his package. “Go ahead and open that once the hunt’s over, okay?”

“Is it a reward?” Khukri asked. “What if the hunt fails?”

“It’s not a reward. It’s more of a surprise.” Ash smiled, but she only watched him with suspicion. “You open that when the hunt’s over,” he repeated, this time more forcefully.

“Yes, Master,” she said quickly.

“Good girl.” Ash folded Khukri’s hood back, running his fingers through her soft fur. By now, he was used to passers-by looking at him like he was crazy. “Now remember, being on the strike team isn’t an invitation to show off. Whatever beast you find, you bring it down by the book; use Issac’s girls as backup to protect yourself.”

Khukri growled affectionately, head twitching to rub against his hands. “I’ll be good! You don’t have enough bug threads to fix me this time.”

With a playful shove, Ash released her.

It wasn’t long before Issac arrived, fancy overcoat replaced with a heavy green cloak and an oversized crossbow. The weapon was sculpted and lacquered ebony, covered in gears made of brass or gilded metal, a design embodying the advanced engineering of the Othelan Republic. Though Dad’s books put Ash’s understanding of physics a step above most Tythic commoners, Ash couldn’t for the life of him discern how the thing worked. It confirmed something Ash told his sisters nearly a year ago now: with enough money, even a man could be a deadly adversary.

After exchanging pleasantries, they struck out. It became immediately apparent that Issac was the superior hunter, and Ash’s lucky kill came from a mix of being early in the season and Khukri’s extreme competency in tracking. Issac showed Ash his detailed map of The Direwood, along with beast populations from previous years based on data taken from the Direwood Syndicate’s harvesters. This gave Issac the opportunity to extol the virtues of having companies join a syndicate to manage the hunt and sale of Direwood beasts, rather than competing for an ever-shrinking piece of the pie. Indeed, if Ash actually represented a union, he might have found Issac’s case compelling.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Since they’d fallen into the second half of the hunting season, most beasts had already been hunted or retreated deeper into the forest. This meant their morning was spent wandering deeper into the wood, with Issac pointing out strips of cloth tied around trees that served as hunting trail markers so they could find their way back.

By noon, they’d made it to a small clearing where a jagged rock formation jutted out above a small cave, protecting a small fire pit from potential rain. Inside the cave and the surrounding clearing, soiled rags and bones from beasts cooked by previous hunters lay scattered, though Issac assured him a cleanup crew would handle that come the season’s end. After settling in, their slaves began the search, leaving Ash, Issac, and his bodyguard behind to rest.

“I’m not saying I’m unhappy with my lot.” Two hours later, Issac sat across from a small fire, swishing wine around his goblet from an expensive bottle he’d brought. “I appreciate how fortunate I am, but out here, you can be who you want to be. There’s just something so... liberating about it, you know?”

“I do.” A twinge of guilt ran across Ash’s conscience. Granted, Issac’s mother commanded more wealth than all of Eriskay, while Ash’s family had a wooden house, but the sentiment was the same. “A man can’t just be a free spirit though, can he? We owe something to the people who got us here.”

Issac sighed, taking another sip of wine. “I’m hardly a free spirit. My position in the company is all I am. I’m living off money from Mother’s company, and she still holds it against me that I wasn't born a girl,” he scoffed, setting the empty goblet down. “Calls me her ‘half-daughter’ because, well, you know.” He waved his hand, dramatically indicating the side of his face with the pink marks and row of earrings.

Ash looked closer. Between Issac’s delicate appearance and genteel attitude, he’d easily have all the girls on Eriskay brawling for his favour as the epitome of manly virtue. Though hunting was a woman’s sport, Ash supposed, and the circles Issac ran in may have been more stringent with gender roles.

“I got lucky,” Ash said, taking another swig from his flask. “My family was always supportive of me liking girl stuff. The island girls gave me a hard time about not being ‘man enough,’ though, till they started trying to get my family’s money.”

“Not man enough?” Issac pursed his lips, looking Ash over. “Honey, I find that hard to believe. Not that I’m into deer, mind you.”

A chuckle escaped Ash, despite himself. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. They’re scary as shit.”

One of Issac’s girls sprinted into camp, interrupting his reply. “Master! The wolf says she’s found an abyssal drake! We’re still confirming on our end.”

“Excellent!” Issac rose to his feet and kicked dirt into the fire. “Confirm and engage. I’ll climb into the nest closer to the river; give me a positioning howl if you herd it close enough, and I’ll be ready to take the shot.”

“Yes, Master.” The girl turned, rushing back into the forest after her pack.

Issac flashed Ash a smile, shouldering his crossbow. “Seems your wolf lives up to her reputation. Let’s go put this beastie down and see if we can get home in time to celebrate.”

Ash grabbed his pack and hurried after Issac, heeding warnings from his guard not to get too close. After a few minutes, she stopped, draping her spear across Ash’s chest to hold him back while Issac approached a tree and climbed inside. A moment later she followed.

When Ash got close, it was easy to recognize the optical illusion. The tree was encircled by a wooden structure. A blanket, expertly dyed and styled to look indistinguishable from the mossy trunk, was pinned to the outside, camouflaging the little nest.

“Enough gawking, pretend Tythic.” Issac grinned, popping his head over the top and checking the sights on his weapon. “If the drake notices us, it’ll change direction. You need to get inside… and keep that magnificent rack of yours below the blind.”

“Sorry,” Ash mumbled, climbing over the small ladder and dropping into hiding.

“So, as I was saying.” Issac extended a hand, which his guard filled with a black metal bolt long enough to run from his elbow to his knuckles. “As appealing as it is to live off of PB&J’s, I rather enjoy spending Mother’s money on a good charcuterie. That’s what’s so great about coming here, a whole season of enjoying what you like, without burning your bridges back home.”

“What’s that?”

Issac looked up, narrowing his eyes as he slid the bolt into the front of the weapon and rested his hand on the side lever. “Ah, right, a charcuterie is-”

“No,” Ash interrupted. “I know about the weird board of tiny meats. What’s that thing with the letters?”

The crossbow lowered, letting the spotted dog glare at him. “Okay, now you’re overplaying the royalty bit. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich is so iconic we eat it in the Othelan Republic, and the majority of our diet needs to be meat. There’s no way you herbivores in Tythic aren’t munching on them constantly.”

“Jelly?” Ash asked incredulously. “You put jelly on bread? Jelly’s a dessert. Is it some kind of weird dessert sandwich?”

“Listen closely, heathen,” Issac said, raising his hand from the weapon to gesture emphatically. “Jelly only goes on bread. I don’t care if your fancy palace chefs think anything with sugar should end up in a dessert-”

Issac’s guard slapped a hand against his chest, silencing him as she wildly sniffed the air. “Master, ambush.” The men fell silent, watching the guard as she sniffed furiously. “There’s a pack of dogs making their way up from the campfire; they’re masking their scent with an alchemical solution, it’s how they got this close. They’re still moving slow, so they probably don’t know we’ve detected them, but we won’t have much time if they charge.”

“Shit.” Ash’s stomach twisted into knots as he grabbed his pack, but before he got to the ladder, a loud clack stopped him in place.

Issac held the crossbow in line with Ash’s gut, not bothering to aim at this range. “Where do you think you’re going, Ruari?”

Ash raised his hands, swallowing as he stared down the brass crossbeam. “We can’t fight them off, and there’s no way a man’s outrunning a pack of hunters. You need to have your guard carry you while you recall your girls. If they’re tracking you, they won’t follow me. If they’re tracking me... Well, come back for me. Okay?”

The crossbow wavered. “How do I know this isn’t a setup?”

“This isn’t some genius strategy!” Ash insisted. “They waited until your girls engaged in a hunt, then tried to jump you in the woods. If they’re on my side, how would me being with you change anything? Now make a decision, do we run, or die?”

Issac grit his teeth, then grunted in frustration, lowering the weapon. “Fine! Run.”

Ash hopped the railing, followed closely by Issac’s guard, who sprinted towards the hunting party with her master in her arms, howling some kind of signal. After forty or fifty paces, Ash slowed to a stop. With a sigh, he opened his pack, retrieved the carving knife, and planted it into a tree. Next, came the flask, which he eagerly downed and tossed aside. The cloak’s clasp clicked open, letting it fall to the ground, followed by his boots, pants, and shirt. The cloth on his arm unwrapped easily, and Ash set it around his waist, inviting the muscle memory of how to tie it like an old friend. Equipped with nothing but his linen wrap, Ash wrenched the knife free and continued onward, heart thumping louder with every step.

It didn’t take long before a hunter stepped out from behind a tree, blocking his path. Ash spun, running the other way, only for another girl to step out, and another, until eight hunters formed a loose circle around him, each levelling a spear. Ash turned in place, heart throbbing in terror as he held his knife in trembling hands.

“Oh, Ashling. You were doing so well.” Two girls parted, making way for Via. Her pointed mouth of daggerlike teeth smiled, contrasting with the cold, ruthless eyes that studied him beneath her abyssal hood. Via didn’t bother with a spear, staring through Ash as she approached, displaying a single unsheathed claw. “You could’ve managed another five weeks of hiding in that outpost before I rooted you out. I guess you thought you’d be safe if you hired someone to protect you.”

When Via stepped close, Ash let out a pathetic yell and drove the blade forward, only for Via to easily grab his wrist mid-stab and jerk it aside. The knife wrenched from his grasp and bounced harmlessly off the forest floor, leaving Ash backpedalling from Via until a spearpoint pressed between his shoulder blades. “Please,” Ash begged. “I didn’t want to hurt Sari! She came into my farm out of nowhere and attacked me!”

Via grunted in disgust before backhanding Ash across the face. Pain raced across his jaw as he stumbled aside, struggling to right himself through blurred vision. “Sari was a trained hunter, and she died to this? A sniveling bag of filth?” Via wrapped a hand around one of Ash’s antlers, holding him in place while she drove her fist into his face before rearing back and plowing another into his gut, dropping him to the floor.

“I visited your family, you know?” Via crouched over him, tossing a piece of paper in his face. “Found your little confession from when you robbed them blind. There’s so many people like you; spineless parasites who take from everyone and justify it by saying they didn’t have a choice. That the world’s so unfair to them that they deserve it. Makes me sick.”

Blood spurted from Ash’s nose and mouth as her fist crashed into his face again, plowing his head into the dirt. He turned, spraying blood onto the ground with each hacking cough, then the next blow came, a kick to his ribs, rolling him into the dirt on his stomach. “You know, the only reason I’m not killing you right here, right now?” Her claws dug into his back, ripping open the scars Sari left behind and splitting him with searing pain. “Someone wants you to answer for what you’ve done, and they’re willing to pay.” The claws moved past the old scars, dragging further down his back and splitting his linen wrap.

“Please...” Ash rolled over and begged through blood-choked sobs. “I-I can get you money. I can grow plants, we can sell to the Azure Syndicate and...”

Via stomped on Ash’s groin, smashing his balls into the ground. Instantly, any ability to control his own body fled, causing him to curl up and writhe in pain, vomit racing through his bloody teeth and spattering the dirt around him. “You think I’d keep a billion florin target on my back?” Ash felt a warm wad of saliva smack against the side of his head. “You may have taken my friend, but I can make new ones. You? For a billion florins, you burn. No friend, no family, no lover would've ever been safe with you, and you would've never been safe from them. You die the only way you were ever going to live, alone.” Her voice shifted, getting further away as she spoke. “Tie him onto the stretcher. If he makes any noise, hit him until he stops.”