“Woo! Come on, Jax. You got this!” I cheered from the back of the arena.
It was the semifinals. All Jax needed to complete her Boundary Trial was third place, and winning this match would guarantee a minimum finish of second. Whatever happened after that, she would have unblocked her Core, allowing her to finally advance in Layer.
…or so I hoped.
There had been a bit of a snafu during my second Dolilim’s recent Layer-up that had the potential to throw a wrench into everything. There was no way I could sum up the ordeal in a sentence, but the end result was that I had… sorta-kinda accidentally added dragon scales to their list of species traits. How that would wind up manifesting was yet to be seen, but I had been assured that it would trigger another Trial of some sort. I just had to keep my fingers crossed that the damage would be limited to Arx.
It was only fair. It was her Boundary, after all. Just because Jax might eventually benefit from it, that should not mean she should be the one to pay the price. Besides, if she pulled off this win only to receive yet another rake handle to the face, she would be apoplectic—one of the main reasons I had neglected to mention the possibility to her.
I was nervous for more than just that, though. From the way the tournament structure had been explained to me, the runner-up in this match would go on to the loser’s bracket to compete for third, so technically, Jax could afford a loss here. But I was really hoping it would not come to that. Apparently, there had been a cash buy-in to even compete in this thing, and she had unabashedly vouched for my ability to cover her fee.
Which was ten gold!
I had the money, but if I ended up having to fork over the cash-equivalent of a mid-size sedan today, I was going to wring Jax’s neck—metaphorically, of course. Actually doing that would only encourage her. The last thing I needed was to introduce yet another fetish for her to fixate on. And anyway, Jax would be far more upset over the loss than I ever could be—skinflint that she was. It was a measure of just how much she wanted this that she had been willing to engage in the medieval equivalent of playing for pink slips.
My redheaded warrior and her opponent circled one another warily, keeping their distance but for a few experimental clangs of steel on steel. For now, both seemed content to size the other up, looking for weaknesses or openings.
I could understand Jax’s reticence. She had a lot riding on this, but even had she not, her opponent was wielding a weapon she had only recently run afoul of—namely a long-bladed rapier. As an axe specialist herself, that would put her at an extreme disadvantage in both speed and reach before she even began.
Or so I assumed. I was just the resident buff-monkey. My knowledge of medieval weaponry might have been extensive when compared to the average modern Joe, but just because I knew the difference between a kukri and an estoc, for example, that did not mean I had the experience necessary to speak intelligently about them.
But there was someone I could ask… if I dared.
I cast a furtive glance at my latest conquest—though calling her that was stretching the term to its breaking point. More like the trap I had fallen for, hook, line, and sinker. But I could not beat myself up over it too much. The craftswoman of that little trip fall had been a goddess whose literal domain was in designing such falls for Questers like me to trip into.
Xyn was stupidly hot. From the blonde locks curling at her neck to the smooth lines of her calves, she was a knockout so out of this world that it was difficult to comprehend. Most people hear a thing like that and just assume T&A, which… okay, yeah. And in abundance. But it was more than that. On this world, once you got above a certain Charisma level, your looks achieved a certain X-factor that was simply… indescribable. And it only grew with each additional point you invested.
I was madly in love with her, of course. So much so that my tongue was still tying itself into knots just being in her general vicinity. But that was all part of the trap.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying to think of how to broach the subject. Why do all my relationships have to be so damned complicated?
“Out with it, Donum,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the crowd, though her one good eye remained laser focused on the match. “I can feel you brooding even through all these people.”
“I’m not brooding,” I said, mildly defensive. “I just don’t know how to talk to you yet. I’ve never had feelings this strong for someone I barely know.”
She glanced away from the fight just long enough to send a mimed kiss my way, which sent a momentary flutter of excitement through my heart before I could clamp down on it. “You’ll figure it out, my gift. We’ll have all the time in the world… later. For now, I’m trying to concentrate.”
“On the match?” I probed, only to fall silent for a spectacular flurry of action from the two combatants. The exchange only lasted a handful of seconds before they separated, each sporting a half-dozen minor scratches more than they had begun with. Both of them were unbelievably fast to my eyes, even as low-leveled as they were—the tournament subdivision Jax was competing in had been limited to persons at the first Boundary and below—but as predicted, she had needed to reserve her weapon for defense, resorting to the use of her claws to score what few hits she had. “I can’t imagine that someone as experienced as you might learn much from this. What do you think, though? Does Jax have a chance?”
The golden-haired lilim’s shoulder rose almost imperceptibly. “From a pure arm’s perspective, no. An axe is a fantastic weapon, especially for a Quester. You need something with a little weight behind it if you expect to punch through the kinds of armor most of Auntie’s beasts have—” I winced at the mention of the Shepherdess, but it was a vague enough reference not to get too upset about it… even if we were in public. “—but it’s not a good choice for dueling. All else being equal, Jax would need quite the stroke of luck to pull this out, but from I’m seeing, her opponent isn’t used to her own weapon. It’s either new and she’s still getting used to its balance, or she switched to that rapier for this tournament, hoping to swing things in her favor.”
I nodded along. “So you’re saying… this woman isn’t very good with it?”
Seeming to overhear my comment, a man to my right shot me an angry look… then blinked in surprise on noticing the pair of unconscious bodies tucked under Xyn’s arms. Admittedly, carrying Arx and Lynnria through the destroyed remnants of Raialie like that was something of a bad look for us, but they were at least clothed. I had insisted. That I had needed to was all you really needed to know about our little Clan.
Frankly, I was a little surprised that we had yet to be called out on it. I guess it’s true what they say: you can get away with anything if you’re hot enough.
“It’s not that she lacks skill,” Xyn began. “But you can tell from her movements that she’s trained with something more like a—”
Abruptly, her head jerked to one side, and she locked eyes with the man, hostility radiating from every inch of her. It seemed a bit of an overreaction to me, but lilim could be a prickly lot at the best of times. If she had detected something she did not like from this guy, there was every possibility he might end up a… whatever-he-was pincushion.
I had no idea what race he was from, but that was not all that uncommon. Most everyone around here was from the local laoi population, but there were enough outliers walking around that you would not get your panties in a twist just because you happened to run across a random alien. Fortunately for me.
This individual had features similar to those of the woman Jax was currently fighting: skin pale enough to be ashen, green stripes running down his arms, three fingers and a thumb on each hand, smallish ears, and a bit of a pinched-in set to his mouth and eyes. Otherwise, he was more or less humanoid. I assumed the two were related.
At first, it looked like he wanted to rise to Xyn’s challenge. He might have been a tad shorter than either of us, but he was just as well armed as he was well muscled. I would not have put it past the guy not to enjoy the odd scrap. But that lasted only long enough for the undercurrent of Pressure emanating from Xyn to hit him. That backed him up. Not a heartbeat later, he was pushing through the crowd, trying to put some distance between us.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” I observed. Of course, the only other time I might have noticed, a pair of goddesses had been battling it out in the skies overhead, so I could be forgiven for being a little distracted. “How do you do that, anyway?”
Her eye drifted slowly away from the man’s retreating back. “I will teach you,” she said after a moment, then winced on seeing Jax take a particularly nasty swipe to the thigh. “I will be teaching all of you. Our Clan has a desperate need for a Mistress at Arms. I have chosen to fulfill that role.”
I just stared at her. I had been a fantasy buff and D&D veteran long enough to have a vague idea of what she was talking about, but from my understanding, the only people who needed a position like that were the types who lived in castles and had lands to lord over. Certain of my followers may have liked to call me a lord, but that was more of an inside joke than anything official. So I assumed she meant something like a glorified personal trainer.
There were worse things she could do with her time—many of which I had been too afraid to contemplate, given her origins.
“I guess that’s fine,” I agreed presently. “If we’re going to keep Questing like our, uh… Mother wants, we could certainly use the edge.”
Xyn glanced at me finally, but from the look in her eye, she appeared almost scandalized. “She’s not your Mother. If anything, she’s more like—”
She stopped.
“More like what?” I pressed.
The statuesque beauty averted her gaze, for once looking uncomfortable. “That is not for me to say. Not while you… care for so little of Her.”
Care for so little of Her? That had been carefully worded. Xyn was referring to herself, the tiny sliver of Her own consciousness the Demon Queen had attached to me as a part of our recent peace treaty.
“She was dead set on killing us all, not three days ago,” I argued—to my mind, quite reasonably. “I’m still half convinced the woman’s a raving lunatic.”
Just like the rest of them. Goddesses, man. Calling them a pill was an insult to pharmaceuticals.
Xyn took the jab without apparent insult. “She’s just old. And very bored,” she reasoned, returning her attention to the match. “Be grateful She finds you entertaining.”
I snorted. “You ask me, the last thing She needs is gratitude. More like a hundred-year paddling session.”
“She would also find that entertaining.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I drawled.
“Cute.” She chuckled. “Tell me, is grumping about like this your way of fighting your feelings for me?”
“What? No.” However artificial they might have been, the very idea of ‘fighting my feelings’ for this woman constricted my chest like a vise. Not that she was a woman, exactly. Xyn’s body was as artificial as my feelings were. That she was even female was only because that was the gender I was attracted to. She was a bit like Jessica Rabbit that way. “Sorry. I’m just… venting, I guess.”
She nodded her understanding. “Then, I am relieved. But you can vent later. Your attention should be on our First. It will strengthen her.”
I quirked an eyebrow. If I had any hope of strengthening Jax, she would need something a little more specific than my attention. More like wolf whistles. Jax had picked up a new Class ability recently, which was supposed to grant her stacking Strength and Agility bonuses from the arousal level of the people nearby, kind of like an inverse aura. But when you are trying to split a person in half with an axe blade, it can be a little difficult to focus on what a snack you are, so she tended to forget about the seduction aspect of her Class. Or race?
Whatever. The two got jumbled together often enough not to matter.
“But…” I lowered my voice. “Wouldn’t that be cheating?”
“It is her ability, not yours,” she reminded me. “And the point of this Trial, if I’m not mistaken. What you gain within the Boundary is what you must overcome to push through it… or so they say. You should ask your other Faen—the Bline splinter—if you want to know about such things.”
I glanced around furtively before shooting her an accusatory glare. “Take it easy with the Clan secrets!”
Her smile was the opposite of apologetic. “Did you know your eyes sparkle when you get upset?”
“No? Wha—?” I straightened. “Don’t think you can distract me with flirting. I’m immune.”
Her teeth clicked mischievously in front of my nose. “What a delicious lie. Tell me another? You’re making me wet.”
There was a moment of silence. And then her eye drifted to where my crotch was helplessly stiffening.
Damn it.
I turned away with a suitably offended harrumph. “You know as well as I do how Mia feels about questions,” I said, steering the subject of conversation back to safer waters. “And anyway, I can’t. She said something about tending to Arx’s roots and buggered off.”
Xyn’s grin of triumph faltered into confusion. “Roots?”
“I dunno,” I said with a shrug. “Every time I mention it, she starts rambling on about symbolism and implications and having to the study the underlying… oh, what was it? Crystallized M-plane fractals? Something like that. Anyway, the best I can gather is that my… unique nature is causing some weirdness with Arx’s Core.”
She nodded along thoughtfully. “I would be surprised if it was not. There are bound to be compatibility issues.”
I looked at her in surprise. Didn’t Bline mention something like that? “What do you know about it?”
Her smile returned. “More than I can share. And less than would be helpful. My… kind are not created with the sum total of their Mother’s memories, you know.”
“I guess,” I agreed, disappointed. Mia had complained of that incessantly, after all.
I knew well that Bline’s little addition to my psyche was keeping secrets from me, though. And she knew I knew. The whole thing was like a game to her. She would dangle tidbits of information in front of my face only to dance away, laughing, when I tried to snatch at them. I was not amused… but then I was not a Faen. They could be odd that way.
Xyn hip-checked me gently. “Never mind all that now. You need to remind your ward of her purpose.”
I looked at her sharply. “What? You mean like—”
“Not the Purpose,” she interrupted quickly. “And you will not learn more of that from me while your attention is needed elsewhere.”
“But—”
“Focus,” she commanded, the word laced with the faintest hint of Pressure. “Honestly, I’m surprised at you, Donum. Just look upon your First. She has sculpted every knuckle of her body to catch your eye, yet you insist on immersing yourself in these endless distractions. Is she not beautiful? Do you not want her?”
I crossed my arms sourly. “You know better than to ask me that. And even if you didn’t, I’d have thought her taunting you from on top of me yesterday might have clued you in. Besides, they’re not distractions! This could be vital information and you’re keeping it—”
Abruptly, my voice caught in my throat. Something had changed in her eye… but I could not tell you what it was. There was no difference in color, light had not suddenly blossomed within them, nor had her expression shifted to display anything beyond a mild irritation. Yet, in that moment… I wanted her. There. And now. Crowd be damned. Had my Will been one iota weaker, I would have instantly succumbed.
“Thank you for the reminder, my gift,” she said, her voice a velvet glove caressing my soul. “I shall look forward to returning that favor… one day. When she least expects it. But I am nothing if not patient, and it would be foolish to risk our resources on something so petty. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“What did you do to me?” I managed to croak.
She tutted. “So much needless resistance. I am trying to help you… and her. But I would have thought her using this very skill… while on top of you yesterday might have clued you in—” Her lips drifted closer to my own, and for a moment, I could see a flicker of desire cross her face, as if she were contemplating a brief trespass over that final barrier between us. But she only twisted the knife. “—even if it is wielded by a far more expert hand… in every way you can possibly imagine.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
I could imagine quite a few. But setting that aside, I knew the skill she was referring to. Jax could sort through whatever emotions I was feeling and, with a touch, bring whichever one she wanted to the forefront with increased intensity. She took great pleasure in using it on me at every opportunity, almost always with the intent of causing an uncontrollable erection—much like Xyn was doing that very second. And apparently with nothing more than simple eye-contact.
When I said nothing, she tilted her head to one side. “Are we done with questions?” she asked, and at my mute nod, she looked away, leaving me weak-kneed and panting. “Good. Now, take what I have given you and focus it upon her. The rest should take care of itself.”
I had to take a few seconds to collect myself; the effect had been that intense. Perhaps it was because of the prior emotional hijacking, forcing me to love her unconditionally, but those few minutes of conversation had lulled me into a false sense of familiarity. I did not really know this creature or what she might be capable of. That would need to be rectified, and soon, else I could be in store for even worse surprises.
But for now, she was right. A single glance was all it took to see the disparity of wounds between combatants. Jax had been badly pressed while I was distracted. If this fight had been judged on a point system, she would have already lost. She did well enough while I was there to support her, but she was no duelist. That was not what her tool-kit had been designed for. She was a Tenebrous Warrior of Beguilement, someone best suited for fighting from the shadows, using skill, wit, and distraction to lay our foes low. Out here in the open and one-on-one, there was not much she could rely on save her own training with a blade, and she had precious little of that.
So I cleared my mind of anything, save the delicious lines of her body. I had long memorized every curve of her, of course, so there was nothing on display that I had not seen or tasted a thousand times before. But I did not care. She was my number one. My First. The truest of all my loves.
Her fiery locks had been bound up with a strip of leather into a loose ponytail, which flopped and swayed playfully between the natural sweep of her horns with her every move. She was dressed in a way not at all appropriate for the occasion, still sporting the black cocktail dress we had purchased for our meeting with the Demon Queen, but that was the only article of clothing to her name. And I would not allow her in public with anything less. Not exactly feminist of me, I realize, but there were few enough of those who would look on our situation with anything short of disdain. Ours was a company who tiptoed around the notion of consent like the Roadrunner with the law of gravity, so I could be forgiven for at least striving for a sliver of decorum.
Jax’s gorgeous face was contorted into a snarl, exposing her fangs to the light of the midday sun. Sweat ran like rivulets down her neck and into her cleavage, despite the chill in the air, where it mixed into mud from the dust her fight had kicked up. Her tanned, powerful legs were spread wide into a low stance, ready to launch her in whichever direction she needed. But her feet were bare. She had discarded her toeless boots, having not wanted to soil them in the well-trampled arena. Several cuts marred her skin, particularly around her thighs and shoulders, but few were deep enough to give someone as Tough as her much pause. You would not know it to look at her, but she was what passed for our party’s tank. Even so, I felt the need to heal her, to envelop her within the ecstasy of my influence until her skin returned to its natural, flawless perfection.
That really would be cheating, though. So I merely bundled the sum of those desires into a little ball of need and pushed them through our connection toward her. About then, she and her opponent had flown into yet another furious exchange of thrusts and parries, so it was difficult to see what effect I might be having. I just had to hope it would give her the edge she needed to finally come out on top.
When she was purely on the defensive, Jax could dodge the woman almost without effort—even without my help. She had a skill that allowed her to discard her own mass for brief periods of time, allowing her to leap to fantastic heights or change direction without regard for pesky things like conservation of momentum, but when she went on the attack, she needed that mass to be able to inflict damage. Unfortunately, the green-striped woman had caught on to that ploy early in the fight, allowing her to take advantage of those moments of vulnerability to counterattack.
And this time, perhaps even because of the distraction I represented, it went much worse for Jax than usual. With a thud, the woman’s armored gauntlet collided with Jax’s wrist, deflecting the descending broad axe to one side, while the other hand slammed her rapier into the redhead’s gut.
My heart leapt into my throat with horror. But it did not have the time to coalesce into guilt or self-recrimination over having listened to Xyn.
Contrary to everyone’s expectations, Jax reacted with neither shock nor pain. Instead, she let out a gasp and moaned loud enough to be heard over the screaming crowd.
“Mmmyeah!”
Needless to say, said onlookers reverted to a stunned silence almost instantly. And they were not the only ones.
To that point, Jax’s opponent had been engaged in a near constant sing-song chant, I assumed to fuel some mix of self-buffs, but when you drag a sound like that out of a woman after piercing her intestines, even the most hardened of warriors would have to double-check that the several feet of tempered steel they were supposed to be wielding had not been suddenly replaced by a 12-inch length of veined rubber. So she could not be blamed for letting her concentration drop.
Jax was quick to take advantage. Before the woman could pull her blade loose, Jax’s hand was at her wrist, trapping her close, while the other locked the woman’s free arm at the elbow.
“I been waitin’ fer ye to stick me proper with that poker o’ yer’n,” she taunted breathlessly. “Ye’ve been tickling me with it so, I’m thinking ye was wishing fer sommat else to stick me with.”
“Shut up,” the other woman growled. She was struggling, but with my desire to back her up, Jax’s grip was like iron. And I did not doubt that the hyper-sexualized yelp she had just unleashed was hurting, either. “Let me go.”
“I could do that, aye,” Jax agreed. But then she arched her back into the woman’s chest, pressing herself all the more firmly against her. “If’n ye… truly want me to.”
Xyn gasped, and I spared only the briefest of glances for her. “Shameless!” she breathed, grinning wide with realization. “And in front of so many. What a feast! Oh, I’m in love!”
My head twitched. In love? My imagination was quick to spin the comment into all sorts of interesting and spicy scenarios, but then I realized what Xyn already had. Jax was turning this fight in a new direction. One where she had the advantage.
Ho boy…
She licked her lips in a seductive display as she gazed into the other’s eyes, whose efforts to pull away lasted a mere handful of seconds before she stilled. I noticed a corner of Jax’s lip twitch upward.
“Ah… but ye don’t be wanting that, now do ye? Yer wonderin’ where this might go… what a real lass might feel like. Skin to skin. Tongue to tongue.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Fanny to fanny.”
If the crowd had been stunned into silence before, you could hear a pin drop now. Without my noticing, Jax had become quite the lesbian pickup artist… which I seemed to be totally into. Though she did have her hands on the other woman, so that doubtlessly helped. And Xyn had done much the same to me, so I was not even in the neighborhood of post-nut clarity.
As for everyone else… well, how often can you realistically expect to see a stabbing-come-seduction drama play out?
Her opponent shivered at the suggestion. But she twisted her head away quickly. “…no.”
My First’s hand came up to catch the other woman’s chin, releasing her arm. She did not seem to notice. “No need fer lies. I’m right here. Take me.” Jax’s brow bunched together uncomfortably, perhaps in acknowledgment of the sword still lodged in her belly, but she passed it off with another moan, as if she were imagining all the filthy things this woman could do to her.
Indecision began to war across the woman’s features, even as I and everyone else in the crowd leaned forward to catch their every word. “I—I…”
Jax’s eyes flashed with triumph. “Mmm~ Ye like me paps, don’t ye? I seen ye staring at ‘em, felt yer eyes peelin’ this cloth away. Why not set ‘em loose? They’s right here. Take ‘em in hand. Taste ‘em! I want ye to taste them. Or better yet… let me taste ye. Yield to me.”
That suggestion snapped at least someone out of their trance.
“Don’t listen to her, Mellit!” the man from before yelled. He had moved to the far side of the arena since the last I had seen him. “She’s using some kind of skill to mess with your head!”
Jax spared the man a glance. “Be that yer beau? Mayhap ye want ‘im to join us?”
The striped woman’s eyes had taken on a clouded look. “I…”
“Ye don’t, eh?” Jax tilted the other’s head away to begin nibbling at her neck. “Why not? Don’t he satisfy ye no more?”
“What?!” The man began to push through the crowd. “You stop that! Let her go. My Mellit has no interest in a slattern like you.”
Huh… guess they’re not related, after all. I blinked as another thought occurred to me. Well, I certainly hope they’re not related.
Whatever the situation, the man was still yelling, “—faithful and pure woman! She would never let herself succumb to a disgusting perversion like—”
Jax’s nibbles turned into a full-on lick up the side of the woman’s chin, baldly staring the man in the face just as a moan to rival her own ripped from the other’s throat.
A mix of scandalized gasps and intrigued oohs wafted from the audience.
“Ye sure about that, laddie?” she taunted, even as the other woman’s hands began to rove freely about her body. “Here, I’m thinking this mare’s meat be heatin’ up just fine.”
The man’s eyes widened with fury.
“I’ll kill you!” he roared, surging forward. “I’ll kill you both!”
I tensed for a moment, but fortunately, several of the onlookers remembered themselves long enough to hold him back.
Jax dismissed the man in favor of the nearby judge, who had been staring slack-jawed at the display. Her claws found the back of Mellit’s uncaring neck.
“Call it.”
The man gave himself a quick shake and help up a hand. “The match goes to Warrior Jax!”
There was a moment of deafening silence.
And then Xyn scared the ever-loving crap out of me by cheering loud enough to wake the dead, hoisting Arx and Lynnria above her head like a couple of comatose pom-poms. That broke the ice for most of the crowd, some of whom even joined her in celebration, but most seemed more interested in vigorously churning the rumor mill.
Barely a second later, Jax slumped to the ground, sliding off the blade of her onetime opponent, to my concern and her confusion.
“What…”
She stumbled back, seeming disoriented, but when I pushed my way past her to heal my Dolilim, she abruptly remembered where she was. And what she had done.
“You!” She locked eyes with the bloodied form of her former adversary. “That wasn’t real! What did you do to me?”
Jax just laughed up at her, not at all disguising the overwhelming pleasure of her flesh knitting itself back together under my hands. “Sorry to say, sweetmeat, but I can nay put nothing in yer head what ain’t there to begin with. That were all you. I just fanned the flames.”
“Liar!” the woman yelled. “I ought to—”
“Save it, Mellit,” the judge interrupted. The guy was not exactly what I would call grizzled, but for a laoi, he looked like he had been ridden hard and put away wet. Maybe that’s how they age? “She got you, fair and square… even if it was a little unorthodox.”
“Unorthodox?!” Mellit whirled on him, her voice rising in pitch to the point of becoming shrill. “I thought this was supposed to be a melee contest?”
“I gotta touch to make it work,” Jax argued, rising to stand again despite the wound still closing in her belly. “That’s melee, ain’t it?”
“Your ass!” Mellit screeched.
“Aye?” Jax turned slightly to give her backside a jiggle. “I can let ye fondle it some, if that settles ye.”
The woman stiffened, and her face drained of what little color was in it.
I sighed. “Jax, don’t antagonize her.”
“What?” She turned to me, offended. “I did nay want her to think I were leading her on, be all.”
The other woman had started to shake, she was so incensed. “You… you…”
The judge was quick to intercede. “Mellit, no one enjoys a loss, and you’re upset. Go take a walk. Your next match will be in ten minutes.”
The woman seethed for another few seconds before whirling on a heel and stalking away. Her… boyfriend? Brother? Esh, I hope not. Maybe just a cousin. That’s better, right? Whatever their relation, he was quick to fall into step beside her, and I could hear them begin to argue as they pushed through the crowd.
The judge turned to Jax. “I guess that did technically count as a melee skill, but I’d prefer it if you refrained from using it for the final match. We were hoping for a pure contest of arms here.”
“Not much of a contest when I can nay use half me skills,” Jax argued with a shrug. “But yer the boss.”
The man nodded before turning to me. “You’re a healer?”
I hesitated, but there was no point in denying it. Or going into the many caveats that went along with the admission. “Yeah.”
He nodded again. “Good. Our healer is still recovering from putting the latest batch of Dungeon survivors back together, so she won’t be good to anyone for another half day. Meanwhile,” he jerked his head toward Mellit’s retreating form, “that girl’s next opponent was left in a bad way in his last match. He was going to forfeit if we couldn’t find someone to patch him up in time, but now that you’re here…”
Jax placed herself between me and the man. “And yer payin’ what?”
“The standard fee,” he replied. “A half silver.”
I tilted my head in consideration. Normally, I would value that at around two hundred bucks, American—enough for a couple to stay at a cheap hotel or one really nice meal—but the economy around here had been borked beyond recognition by the recent Dungeon hit. So the offer was a tad low, but I was willing to take it in favor of building rapport with the guy who would be judging our next match.
Jax folded her arms, unimpressed. “That won’t pay fer a bread loaf ‘round these parts.”
“It’s okay, Jax,” I said, interrupting with a hand at her shoulder, then glanced up at the man. “Healers shouldn’t be greedy.”
She instantly turned to argue. “But—!”
“And we won’t be staying long after the match,” I continued. “The standard fee will be fine.”
The man bobbed his head once, the deal struck. “Good. It’s this way.”
As I made to follow, Jax fell into step beside me. “What did ye do that for?” she hissed. “I could’ve got him up to a gold, if’n ye’d let me!”
I almost looked at her askance, certain she must be exaggerating, but managed to cover my shock with a collected rumble in my chest. It was purely performative, of course. There was no chance of my fooling Jax with such antics. “I have my reasons. Not the least of which because he stood up for you just now.”
“Feh!” she spat. “Only because it were his job to do it. And anyway, that one stands to skelp way more’n a half silver off that match. Who do you think the bookie is for this pony show?”
I frowned down at her. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“Maybe,” she grumbled with a shrug. “Dunno what that means.”
“It means he has a stake in the game, so he might be crooked,” Xyn explained from her other side.
Jax started to nod along, then whirled. “You!”
Xyn favored her with a Cheshire grin. “Me, indeed.”
Jax looked around fearfully. “But ye was chained! I made sure of it! How is ye—” She stopped, having finally noticed the pair of bodies tucked beneath the bull-horned lilim’s arms. She bared her teeth. “What did ye do to me sisters?!”
I took a breath to explain what little I could with how many people were in earshot, but then a resounding slap sliced its way through the clamor of the crowd.
“Bitch! Don’t lie to me!” a man bellowed.
I winced, having recognized the guy’s voice. “Jax, what’s the purse for second place?”
“What? Twenty-five gold,” she informed me, still more than a little distracted. “Fifty for first. Why?”
I heaved a sigh.
“Oh, just wondering if we should skip town a little early is all.”