It wasn’t clear if Percival was here to kill us, or to convert us. He couldn’t blame us too much for snooping — every door was unlocked, and the stairs taunted us every time we were in the sitting room.

Piliton must’ve wanted people to find out.

“What the hell, Percival! He bought you, made you fight to the death, and then gave you a life of servitude. You said he wasn’t a pompous prick!”

“I’m no servant, Oliver.” He said the word with obvious disdain. “I remain a slave. A very well-trained, well-treated slave. And I wish for nothing more.”

He’d stepped into the room and eased the door shut behind him. The steam from his tea wafted over the cases of human collars.

“So what’s going to happen to us now that we’ve found out?” Claire asked.

“That’s up to you. Lord Piliton will still value your services if you wish to honour your agreement.”

I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation. It wasn’t long since I’d had serious misgivings about the ethics of killing a bunch of enemy soldiers who very much wanted to kill me. Now I’d stumbled upon a blatant slave fighting ring, and I was debating if I wanted to do anything about it. All for the sake of twenty thousand krad.

“Ollie, let’s think about this,” Claire urged. The fact that she wanted to think about it made her position reasonably clear. “Percival is giving us an opportunity here. This is bigger than us.”

“You’re only saying that because we’re getting paid.”

“Exactly! Real people getting paid. We don’t even live here! Be realistic — are you suddenly going to move to Asteroth and fight the war on slave trading? You know it happens in the real world, right? You may as well hop out of your Pod right now and fight the real thing if that’s what you’re worried about!”

It’s not. I’m past that. They’re NPCs. It’s just…wrong.

“It’s not the slaves that I care about,” I started. “It’s that if this were the real world, I would call the Peacers and point the finger. I certainly wouldn’t bargain with the rich guy behind the scenes and try to snag myself a new Yurt or Pod or something.”

Percival had set his tea down. I could tell I was very close to finding out how he’d survived the fighting pit.

I turned to him. “Percival, how often does Piliton hold the fights? And how many people?”

“Lord Piliton. And will it really help you to know?”

No. Whether it’s one a year with two contestants, or once a month with twenty, my issue will still be the same.

“Maybe. I don’t want to ruin the…relationship that we have with Lord Piliton. I thought it could be beneficial for both of us in the future.”

I tried to find reasons to not care. I cycled through the usual suspects.

Everything will reset next year. Even if you abolish slavery in the entirety of Asteroth, it will be back next year.

I couldn’t flesh out the entire debate while I was in this room with Percival. He looked ready to whip out some magical taekwondo on us. Regardless of what I felt, there was only one good answer for now.

“Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know. I’m just going to tell Piliton what we’ve organised, get the job done, and get out. Is that believable enough for you?”

He analysed me for a moment, then shrugged. “It is. I can tell when someone is lying. I’m glad you remain on the right side of this — after all, the profits from the trade go directly into our efforts to make Lord Piliton the King of Asteroth. If you think about it, it is a very noble sacrifice.”

Sure. Noble.

If he really could tell if I was lying, he must’ve known something about my intentions that I didn’t. Because I was still very much up in the air.

“Shall we go downstairs? I think a cup of tea might calm the nerves.”

“It’s certainly a charged atmosphere,” Claire agreed.

We followed Percival downstairs just in time to see a tide of brightly dressed women fluttering about in the foyer. Lord Piliton descended from the staircase that led to his study, drawing all their eyes.

“Thank you having us, my Lord!”

“I’ll see you again soon, Lord Piliton!”

“My Lord! I’ll wear the smaller dress next time!”

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Suitors. Or suitresses, I guess.

The sea of perfume was renewed, an invigorating flavour of twenty different flowers, foods and additives. Walking down the stairs was like descending into a fog. Piliton caught my eye and gave Percival a questioning glance while he waved goodbye to the ladies.

We made it downstairs and sat in the comfy chairs. Percival poured tea. Piliton came over and sat, pulling a blue and white handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his brow.

“Tea, my Lord?” called Percival.

“Something cold, please, Percival. I’m sweating like a pig from dealing with all of them.”

He swung a leg over the side of the chair and lay somewhat sideways in a cramped position. It didn’t look to be kind on a sixty or seventy-year-old spine, but he wasn’t too concerned.

“Listen to this, you two. If you can help it, I advise you to never become too rich. And if you do, ensure your husband or wife is wonderfully healthy, and give them all the attention in the world. Otherwise, you may end up with a flock of ferocious men or women on your doorstep, throwing their stinking bodies at you. Find your One Person, and keep them safe.”

What a wholesome piece of advice from a guy who trades slaves.

“I’ll do my best,” I said. Claire echoed my sentiments. “Though we may well be twenty thousand krad richer in the next little while.”

He perked up at the implication. “Oh? Do tell. What have you arranged? You seriously destroyed that much infrastructure in such a short time?”

His enthusiasm for the original plan was entertaining. His focus was at least admirable, even if the contents of his house were not.

“We thought you might not want to spend all the money in the royal coffers cleaning up the mess after you attain the throne. Instead, we’ve potentially contracted the help of a few of the Stakes.”

He blanched. Percival came over with the tea and juice. He assumed a position next to Piliton’s chair.

“My Lord. Before you go any further, you should know that these two have discovered it. I think it would be wise to consider—”

Piliton raised a hand, silencing his butler. He stared down Claire for a moment, then looked me up and down, settling on my eyes.

“You. I can see that it unnerved you. Tell me why I shouldn’t have Percival chain you up and include you in the next bout.”

Woah. That was immediately very intense.

It was hard to think on the spot. I’d never had to justify slavery to another human being before. At least this one was in support of it.

“I…I don’t want to remain in Asteroth. Even if I did care about the fighting pit, there’s nothing I could do after I leave. I’d only be wasting my time if I did something now. I’m not going to try and extort you for more money or anything.”

Piliton seemed satisfied. Vocalising it made me realise that I was satisfied at well. Being forced to say whatever came to mind gave me a sense of clarity.

A sense of clarity that I don’t feel great about.

It wasn’t worth pursuing. I was starting to annoy myself with my continuous worry over the topic. Each day was a new ethical battle, and I was so over it.

“Very well. Claire, tell me about your deal with the Stakes. I was hoping to live out my life without ever dealing with one of them, but I’m here now, I suppose. What am I wrapped up in?”

“It’s not too severe just yet, though it admittedly could be. Tabitha — she’s the Third Stake — has agreed to put the idea to the others. It would involve them doing all the hard work of removing King…what even is his name?”

“Rallar.”

“Right. They’d do all the work of removing King Rallar — hopefully without bloodshed — and in return they want you to continue allowing them access to something called The Ancients. Also, Tabitha’s daughter Marla — the Second Stake — has to be let out of the Hollow Forest. There’s some more context because you’re kind of inheriting King Rallar’s previous deals, but that’s the gist of it.”

Piliton looked only slightly perturbed at the mentioning of the Hollow Forest and the fact that multiple Stakes were involved in this deal. I was going to throw in that technically the Stakes were his long-forgotten servants, but decided it was useless. Also, Percival might’ve taken offense. I had suspicions about how he kept his tea hot for all that time, and I didn’t want to confirm them.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting two foreigners to come up with such a plan. I’m hoping it doesn’t turn out to be more than I bargained for. The Hollow Forest doesn’t have the best reputation, as I’m sure you know.”

“I’d say it has the worst reputation,” Percival popped in.

Claire continued her speech.

“That’s true. But I think Marla can be controlled, and Tabitha seemed to want to try. She probably won’t turn Asteroth into a larger, more dangerous Hollow Forest. As king, you would hold a lot more power over them than you think. You can disallow them from accessing The Ancients. That’s pretty important to them.”

“Could they not just kill me and put someone else on the throne who would let them do whatever they do there?”

I jumped in. “If they dethrone King Rallar, and then immediately do the same to you, I don’t think anyone will want the privilege of being their puppet. Besides, I agree with Claire. Marla can be controlled.

If Percival was doing his little ‘lie detection’ trick on me in that moment, he would’ve spotted a flicker of doubt. Our two short meetings with Marla hadn’t given me the best assurance of anyone’s safety around her.

Piliton sat in silence for a while. Percival got up and delivered biscuits and refilled our tea. I examined my fingernails and wondered why they didn’t grow. Same with my hair.

After some serious deliberation, Piliton went to his study. He said he needed a quiet place to think, but I suspected that he needed a quiet whiskey to do so.

From my point of view, he didn’t have a lot to consider. We’d done an accidentally masterful job of locking him into the deal.

What’s he gonna do, say no? To a bunch of Stakes?

It would be suicide to waste their time, especially after coaxing them all from their daily activities. Marla had humans to eat, Tabitha had humans to eat and whale tongues to scratch, and Ooze Man probably had masochistic shit to do like propelling himself into a row of spears.

Either way, we’d locked Lord Piliton into a very dangerous situation. It felt pretty good actually, like I was already getting a small amount of payback on behalf of the former owners of those dog collars.

There was a knock at the door. I stood to get it, then Percival gave me a glare that told me very clearly to sit down and continue enjoying the biscuits. His shoes tapped along the marble in perfectly measured strides.

He pulled open the doors with a flourish, presenting the manor it all its glory. The visitor swept inside to the sound of high heels. They clicked like Percival’s, but at a higher pitch and a faster pace.

I swung around. Percival was watching me with wide eyes. He was yet to greet the guest, or say anything at all, in fact.

That’s unusual.

I turned further, flinching when I noticed the visitor standing just behind my chair.

She wore a tight pink dress and pink heels.

Her three eyes bore into me.