“I don’t trust him,” Cleo snarled, crossing her arms. She glared over toward Saleh, who was sitting on the same log about thirty feet away, and he waved back at them all happylike.

“You don’t trust anyone.”

“And? How the hell does he know who we are?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan replied. “And don’t worry, I don’t trust him either, but what other options do we have? We can’t fight our way through.”

“We could turn around and go back. Tell Arnold that we couldn’t get into the dungeon, or tell him nothing and just leave. The only thing keeping us here is your backwards sense of duty.”

“I’m not abandoning David,” Nathan said, firmly. He was surprised by how strongly he felt the statement. His initial brush with the prospect of spending eternity in whatever the Abyss was had impacted more than he’d realized.

“If I have the opportunity to do some good, some real good, and save someone, I’m going to try my best. Plus this is a good opportunity. One that we would be fools to pass up. That Fallon bastard wanted his hands on this key, that has to mean something.”

Cleo sighed, letting her shoulder drop, and shaking her head. “You have saved David, Nathan. You have done good. Don’t be blinded by it.”

Nathan smirked. “Cleo…”

“What?”

“Did you just compliment me?”

She scowled and turned away, looking toward Saleh. “Don’t get used to it.”

Saleh called over from his log, still smiling, kicking his legs back and forth as they dangled. “Can I come over there and talk? I feel like including me in the conversation might make things a tad more productive.”

A bolt twanged into the wood next to his head, shutting him up. Cleo lowered her crossbow slowly, maintaining eye contact with the man. “Say another word and the next one is between your eyes.”

Saleh did not say another word.

“He has a point, you know,” Nathan said, choosing his words carefully. Angering Cleo when she was already like this, while funny, was not the wisest decision. He knew from experience.

“So do my arrows.”

“Well we have to do something. Like you said, sneaking or fighting our way through is a bad decision. He’s offering help, we should at least hear him out,” Nathan said.

Over on the log, Saleh was playing with the stuck bolt like a cat with a doorstop. Nathan wanted to hear the man out, but that didn’t mean he trusted him. It was almost like he was trying too hard to seem harmless.

Cleo mulled the thought over, her frown growing harder and harder. “Fine,” she finally spat.

Nathan called to Saleh. The man stopped playing with the bolt, hopped off his log, and sauntered over toward them.

“Start explaining,” Nathan said.

“Start explaining what?” Saleh asked, brushing his white hair back over his head.

“Everything,” Cleo said.

Saleh grinned. “It all began when I was born– Gah!” he screamed, hand clutching at his upper arm, where a bolt was sticking out of it. Blood was already beginning to seep from the wound, staining his wrinkled uniform a dark red. “You shot me.” He said the words like he himself didn’t believe them. “You actually shot me.”

Nathan raised his eyebrows as he watched Cleo reload her crossbow.

“And I’ll do it again,” she said flatly. “You might want to stop messing around, because I am not.” There was no humor in her words. It was a threat, plain and simple.

“I’d do what she says,” said Nathan.

Saleh grumbled, wincing at the pain in his arm. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, breathing hard through his nose. “I’ve told you no lie,” he said through gritted teeth. “I came here as a friend. I want the same things you do. I can get you into the dungeon, past the guards without issue.”

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“How?” Cleo cut in.

“I have my ways,” Saleh said with a wry smile.

Cleo leveled her crossbow. “Not good enough,” she said. “I’m going to ask one more time. How?”

The corners of Saleh’s lips twitched, a flash of annoyance or fear passing through his eyes, but it quickly fled. “The Cerulean Brotherhood doesn’t like others stepping foot on their turf.”

“The Cerulean Brotherhood?” This time it was Nathan that cut Saleh off. David had mentioned them back in the alleyway, after Nathan had killed that cutthroat.

“The guild.” He gestured down at his uniform. “The ones outside the dungeon. They’re not going to let anyone not a member inside.”

“I fail to see where this is going,” Cleo said.

Saleh held his one hand before him, the other still putting pressure on his wound. “That’s cause I haven’t gotten there yet. Gods you’re impatient. The good news for us is they’re too large and bloated to know who is and isn’t one of them. If we walk up, say the right things, wear the right things–” He brushed a hand over the blue uniform, smoothing some of the wrinkles. “–we can waltz right in.”

“And why would we need you for that?” Nathan asked.

Saleh smiled, revealing his fine white teeth. “And what would you say when they start asking questions, eh? When they realize that you know no one there, and no one knows you?”

“Fair point.”

“You expect us to believe that you would just betray your own guild like that?” Cleo asked. “What’s in it for you?”

“These chumps?” Saleh looked back over his shoulder in the direction of the dungeon, where the city of canvas tents were set up. There were too many trees to see them from where they were. “They aren’t my guild. I’m actually kind of insulted that you thought that in the first place.”

Cleo hefted her bow threateningly. “Then how would people know who you are? What makes you any different from us?”

Having already known that Cleo was more than willing to shoot him, one would have thought that Saleh would have been taking this more seriously. But he wasn’t. He smiled at the woman, almost as if daring her to do it again. “Trust me, they know me. As far as they are aware, I am a part of their guild. And as far as they are aware, you will be too. But the things they are aware of do not matter.

“And as for what is in it for me? Nothing that pertains to you. You’re free to take whatever it is you want from the dungeon. Take it all, take nothing, I don’t care. I just want the damn place unlocked.” Saleh stared at them, his face unreadable.

Nathan wasn’t sure what to make of the man,. He didn’t trust him, but for some inexplicable reason – as if someone were whispering in his ear, he felt he knew Saleh wasn’t lying. And besides, the guy was right, there weren’t many other options left open to them at the moment.

“Okay,” Cleo finally relented. “But under one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Insurance.”

***

“I really don’t understand you.” Saleh rubbed at his upper arm where the arrow wound was. It was now wrapped with a bandage, after Cleo had – much to Saleh’s confusion – kissed the wound.

Nathan was beginning to get a better idea of what Cleo was capable of. Something about being able to control the limbs of people she wounds it would seem. Although, it certainly isn’t easy to activate if she has to kiss it every time. If she can’t get it off beforehand, it would be tough to activate in a battle.

Still, that could be invaluable. A brilliant idea blossomed in his head. Now I just have to find a really strong and ugly troll for us to fight.

Cleo finished buttoning up the top of her new, dark blue uniform and stepped out from behind a tree, frown on her face. Nathan was wearing a matching one, though his had different symbols emblazoned on the shoulder. After agreeing to his plan, Saleh had procured the two uniforms for them. One of them had a large rip and bloodstain on the undershirt, but it was able to be hidden well enough by the jacket. It didn’t take a detective to figure out where Saleh had got the uniforms.

“Just let me do the talking,” Saleh said as they stepped out from the treeline, onto the dirt road, and started walking toward the dungeon.

Nathan felt a strange tingle spread through his body.

They were immediately noticed by several guards in similar blue uniforms. The guards were wearing metal armor beneath, their uniforms altered to accommodate it. Long spear in hand like a walking stick, the front guard spoke. He was the same older man that Nathan had seen eating eggs earlier.

“We weren’t expecting any reinforcem–” The man paused, cocking his head, wizened eyes focused on Saleh. “Mercer? What the blazes are you doing out here?”

Nathan and Cleo shared a quick look, but said nothing. Saleh had already told them he was lying to the Cerulean Brotherhood, a fake name was to be expected.

Saleh smiled as if greeting an old friend and let out a deep laugh. “Coil, it’s good to see you!” He marched forward and gave the guard a heavy clap on the shoulder. Nathan held his breath, but the two just continued talking. “Commander Tyson told me this dungeon was going to be well guarded, but if you’re here that’s obviously not true.”

Coil let out a roar of a laugh, looking and sounding not unlike a walrus. “Don’t let my old bones fool you. They’ve got the place locked down good and tight. Not a rat gets in without our say so.” He grinned, wrinkles tight around his eyes, and turned to Nathan and Cleo. “And who might these fresh ones be? Can’t say I recognize ‘em, but that just might be my own fault. Got a mind like a rusty steel trap.”

Nathan was about to answer, but Saleh cut him off, speaking for the pair of them. “This here is Colonel Elijah, and Sergeant Avery,” he said, pointing at Nathan and Cleo.

Coil immediately straightened up, holding his spear tighter, chin held higher. “Colonel?” he asked, startled. “My apologies, sir. I should have been familiar with you.”

Colonel?

Goddamit.