Theo and Marika are eating when I get back. The three guards are nowhere to be seen; Theo explains that they have gone to look around the city and find more permanent lodgings.

“Yeah, I suppose you don’t want to live in a hotel forever,” I say.

“Never mind that. What happened?” Marika leans forward and offers me some bread.

“Well…”

I explain the situation as I understand it. Theo takes it in stride, but Marika looks mortified.

“I knew someone would take offence to you being touched by Jinx. Of course it had to be someone with some meagre power to wield. Bullies! Ugh!” Marika somehow makes sipping her soup sound angry.

“It’s terrible, but there’s no sense fighting it. There’s still the Adventurer’s Guild, the Merchant’s Guild, the…” Theo trails off a looks at me. “…the Seamstresses Guild?”

“Yeah, no. That’s not gonna work so well for me.” I hold up my hands and flick my talons. “Whatever. I’ll go to the Adventurer’s Guild tomorrow.”

I’m actually pretty mad, honestly. Helping Rudy got us cheaper rooms, but did he rat me out to the Alchemist’s Guild? The whole thing happened pretty fast, and Rudy was on duty at the time…

When dinnertime comes, Rudy shows up just like Puella said. They chat a bit and then I decide to get an answer. I put on my nicest troll glare and stomp over to where he’s devouring stew like it’s going out of style.

“Did you tell the Alchemist’s Guild about me? About the potion I gave you?”

Rudy looks shocked and he shakes his head. “Nah. You done me a good turn; it’d be poor payback getting you involved with those weirdos.”

I listen to his words and smell his scent and they match. He’s not lying. Must have just been bad luck; someone saw what happened and decided to tell on me.

“Likely whoever it was got a reward for turning you in,” says Rudy after I explain why I asked. “Guilds are pretty protective of their domains. I’m a guardsman so we’re covered by the Watchman’s Guild. The Guild don’t take kindly when someone hires a guard for their store that isn’t part of our guild; we pay a silver coin for confirmed reports of that. I imagine someone in line saw what you done for me, put his brain to thinking, and reported you to the Alchemist’s Guild.”

Well, that kind of sucks for me. All I can do is alchemy and I just got blacklisted from the Alchemy Guild.

The next day breakfast comes to our rooms, delivered by a small woman in a maid’s uniform. It’s plain but delicious, and true to Puella’s word, there’s plenty of it for me. With our bellies full we step out and look around.

The city… stinks. It smells like a lot of sweaty, dirty people, unwashed socks, and other, grosser things. From what I know about medieval towns, there’s probably not much in the way of hygiene systems like flush toilets or hot water, so it’s no wonder that the place smells so bad.

“Actually there’s a decent system for taking care of waste,” says Marika when I ask. “There’s a lot of public washhouses and toilets and they all have cleaning slimes in them. They convert all the waste to pure water. It’s all pretty well handled.”

“But you can’t force people to bathe,” says Theo. “People working all day get tired and don’t bother cleaning up much. That’s how it is.”

“You mean it could be worse?” I try not to imagine it.

If I had a nose I’d wrinkle it. People aren’t throwing chamber pots out their windows or anything, I guess. I survive the walk to our destination, which is a brick building that seems to be quite active. People enter and exit it regularly. Many of them are wearing armour and carrying weapons, although some of them look unarmed. Excitement fills me. These guys are totally adventurers! The ones without armour and weapons are probably wizards or healers. Or monks! I start imagining martial artists doing crazy moves and get a little excited.

“Actually they’re probably porters,” says Theo when I ask about the unarmed folks. “They get hired on to carry stuff for the adventurers who explore the dungeon. They’re still members of the guild; they just don’t have the skills to go it alone or join a party properly yet. Why would using magic mean you don’t wear armour?”

I want to yell at them that wizards need robes and tall hats and whatnot but I bite my tongue.

We get a fair number of stares as we approach. Only one person, a tall woman wearing bright chainmail and carrying a flanged mace, gets in our way. She looks straight at me and I can smell absolutely zero fear on her. I’m impressed! She walks right up to Marika and starts talking.

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“Good day. Are you some kind of monster tamer?” She looks at my bandolier and pouch. “Using trolls for porters? That’s courageous. I’d wager it’s good in a fight too. How do you control it?”

“I don’t,” says Marika, who is glaring at the woman. “And she has a name.”

I stick out my hand. “Ellie. Ellie Dancer, at your service.”

The woman reads my words in an instant. “Oh my, every day has its surprises. A talking troll.”

I grin and finally get a tiny bit of nervousness wafting off the woman. The teeth always get it done. “And you are?”

She grabs my hand and shakes three of my fingers. Her grip is strong! “Marianna Cross. Despite my name, please don’t treat me differently from any other Guild member.”

I have no idea what that means so I just nod and release her fingers. “Are you an adventurer?”

Marianna puffs up visibly. “Just so. I recently ranked up; fifth rank skirmisher. My role’s to move about the fight and take on opponents that are weakened, or to support my teammates where needed. And yourself?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. But here’s hoping.”

Marianna looks me over. “Do you have the normal troll abilities? Regeneration, fearlessness, and the like? You’d make an excellent vanguard. Charge in and draw the enemy’s attacks while people like me engage them from the flanks. Were you to get some armour you’d be a menace. When you receive your membership, keep me in mind. I’ll gladly teach you the basics of exploring the dungeon.”

That’s something to think about. We bid Marianna farewell and proceed to the registration desk.

“I’m sorry. Ellie Dancer is not eligible to register in the Adventurer’s Guild,” says the man at the desk smoothly as soon as he realizes we’re here to speak to him.

“Why not?” asks Theo, who has just finished his own registration as an adventurer. “And how do you even know who she is?”

“Confidential interguild communications,” says the man. “I’m afraid it’s absolute.”

That’s some really crappy news. Marika isn’t registering here, and neither are the three guards, so we leave. I feel deflated. Theo smacks me on the shoulder, which is a bit of a reach for him. “Don’t fret. There’s other guilds.”

We stop by the Merchant’s Guild, where Marika registers herself under her first name only, and I’m refused there. We go to the Watchman’s Guild for Caine, Tyler and Andrew, and they register as freelance guards. I’m told that I can’t register in that guild either.

Leatherworkers. Blacksmiths. Coachmen. All of them turn me away. Even the guild in charge of the sewer’s maintenance tells me I’m not wanted. I’m feeling pretty defeated.

“No good deed goes unpunished,” I say as we walk back to the inn. All the others have their guild cards, which they politely keep out of sight so as not to remind me of my plight. The come with chains made of some metal that doesn’t reflect any light, and they wear them around their necks.

“It’s all right,” says Marika. “There’s one more place I want to stop.”

That place is a stately marble building with swooping buttresses that hold up broad walls. It’s clearly a church of some kind. The signage is primarily pictures, but the words are clear to me.

Temple of Verity

Oh, I had almost forgotten about this. My mood lifts as we enter. It’s a very bright place, filled with lamps and white stone and statues portraying people welcoming others into their homes. There’s a lot of people inside, all sitting on wooden pews with their heads down and their hands clasped. Here and there silent women in maid’s uniforms sweep the floor or dust the decorations. The altar is a simple broad slab of marble carved to resemble a fireplace flanked by a kneeling family. The goddess of homecomings, was it? Seems appropriate.

Then I feel a little bit of darkness in me. Sharr, the woman who depth charged my guild ambitions, is a Verity worshipper. Are they all like that? I decide to give anyone I meet here a chance anyway, but that doesn’t mean I’ll trust them right off the hop.

“This way,” whispers Marika. It’s just her and I now; Theo and the others have returned to the inn. I follow her and ignore the stares I’m getting from people praying in the temple.

We stop at a small door, too small for me to enter without crouching. Marika knocks twice and then slips a coin through a slot. It lands with a gentle clink, and I imagine it falling into a bucket of other coins.

The door opens and a woman steps out. She’s wearing a simple robe of cotton. “Welcome to Verity’s temple. What services do you seek?”

“This woman—“ Marika points to me—“is blessed by Jinx. Can she be helped?”

The priestess looks up at me. Other than the initial shock, she doesn’t smell fearful. She takes my hand and looks up at me, then her eyes glow a moment. “Mmm, yes. Blessed indeed, by my goddess’s brother. Tell me, child: was this forced on you? Did Jinx trick you with deceit?”

“No,” I say, because it wasn’t, and I wasn’t. “I just didn’t know what I was getting into.”

The priestess smiles sadly. “Then I am afraid my goddess cannot help you. Had you been lied to or forced into this fate, things would be different. But as it is, you are Jinx’s child now and forever.”

“Is that bad? Someone—someone who worships here—already treated me like I was evil just because of him.” And cost me membership in every guild in town.

The woman smiles again, but there’s sympathy in it. “I’m sorry to hear that. There are those who hate Verity’s children with a passion, you know. Her blessing prevents us from lying, even to spare someone harm. At least Jinx allows his children to do as they please. Yes, some will hate you for it. Some will call you Balekin or worse. But Jinx’s children make their own path.”

Marika nudges me and stares at the place I’ve tucked my two silver coins. I guess we need to pay? But when I pull out my money, the priestess waves her hand. “What would you pay me for? Telling you a truth that you didn’t know? No. Go on free of any debt to the temple.”

Before she retreats behind her door, the woman speaks once more. “Remember. Verity is the goddess of truth, but also the goddess of homecomings. I can tell you have no home to return to. Make one and you might find yourself blessed by two gods rather than just one.” She winks at me and closes the door.

Her words accompany me back to the inn, but they don’t comfort me at all.