Chapter Sixty: Camp Busting

The tears burned at the backs of her eyes, but Fourteen refused to let even a single one fall. She hadn’t shed a single one in years, and she didn’t plan to start now. Even if today was the worst day of her life so far. It was the closest she’d come since she’d taken her first life—another Dark Elf girl her age who’d begged while the collar forced the knife down—when she’d been just fifteen. Five years without a single tear shed, and the loss of her best friend damn near broke her.

But she knew better than to show any vulnerability around men like this. That was a quick way to invite the horrors she’d so far been relatively spared from thanks to a thin figure and a class that made people forget she existed. Even now, relief and guilt tore at her in equal measures.

Nine was gone. Only two of the grunts who’d set out on the last mission returned alive. Whoever they’d attacked had been a far bigger threat than Feng realized, and Fourteen’s friend had paid the price. For the last hour, Fourteen had wondered if whoever had killed Nine would come to finish off the scum that inhabited the camp around her.

On one hand, she was glad her friend wouldn’t have to suffer. Of all the girls who’d survived the trials, Nine had been both the strongest and the kindest. The things the collar had made her do…Fourteen was glad Nine wouldn’t have to do any more, wherever her soul was now. Maybe she’d get some peace, even if a part of Fourteen wanted to be so fucking angry that she was alone now.

She’d been relatively forgotten in the chaos that had consumed the camp since Bertrand had come back with his tail between his legs, whimpering about some monster that had cleaved through the entire group single-handedly. Feng was preparing a group to go after them, and Fourteen knew it was only a matter of time before he remembered his favorite knife and came to collect her.

[Sixth Sense] pinged, and she went stiff. A second later, the camp seemed to grow still. Fourteen stood, scanning the treeline that marked the area Feng’s slaves had cleared out. When she saw him, chills raced through her.

He wasn’t as tall as Nine, but then again nobody ever was. He was still taller than most humans—taller than her by about half a foot—but his physique wasn’t overly intimidating. The bloodsoaked clothes covered in cuts and the deathly calm expression on his face caused her skin to pebble, but that wasn’t what had set off her skill. No, for some strange reason, she felt no threat coming from him.

The evil fucking sword on his back? That was a different story.

A two hander too long to carry at his waist, the crimson gem at the crossguard seemed to stare at her. Into her. The scabbard was metal, which meant it must have been heavy as shit, but he walked as lightly as if he wasn’t wearing it. Then, looking over all the men in camp with a scarily passive expression, he reached behind him.

With a flick of his thumb, he opened a metal clasp that kept the sword in place. He slid it out an inch, and [Sixth Sense] drove Fourteen to her knees. Waves of inky, crimson tinted darkness poured from the scabbard while he slid the blood red blade free of its sheathe. The shadows fell around him like a cloak, writhing and twisting as if caressing him. Wrapping him in their embrace. The more shadow that pooled out, the harder it became to make out his form. Through the flickering shadows, Fourteen could just make out glimpses of some kind of black and red armor, there one moment and gone the next.

The camp exploded into action. More than one man turned and fled from the sight, even their basic instincts telling them that this fight was a fucking bad one to pick. Four grunts charged the newcomer—four of the dumber ones, admittedly—but he cut through them with a near-contemptuous ease. No fancy sword work, no flourish, just four killing strikes that left behind four corpses dead before they hit the ground.

Fourteen’s ears were ringing. Her heart pounded so loud she almost didn’t notice [Sixth Sense] activate a second time, but she did her best to ignore it. This must have been the man who killed the ambush team. The one who had killed Nine. She wanted to hate him, but after seeing what he was capable of?

If anyone could have given her a quick death, it was this man.

She focused every sense on him. He was the biggest threat in the forest, and if she thought it hard enough then the collar would agree. All Feng’s men were rushing towards that side of the camp, hoping numbers would help them turn the tide even as another handful disappeared into the trees. Fourteen sat there, just waiting on the command to come. This man would surely kill her, so the collar hadn’t made her move yet. It’s self preservation was something she’d tested well, and she knew it wouldn’t force her into a fight she knew she couldn’t win. A direct command was the only thing that could supersede that.

She watched his every move. Tracked each tendril that lashed out from the cloak of shadows that surrounded him, the reddish ones cutting into Feng’s men as easily as his sword, though without the same devastating effect. A cut from that crimson blade left the men screaming in pain, angry red veins visible spreading from the wounds it left behind. She knew a lot of poisons, and that wasn’t one.

She watched his every move, committing each one to memory, wondering which one took Nine from this world. She let everything else fade away, just staring at the way he fought. She’d never seen someone fight quite like him, without any real form or visible technique. He was a force of nature, constantly in motion, every strike bleeding into the next. No two attacks were exactly the same. He dodged skills like he knew they were coming long before they were cast. She watched it all, because if she stayed focused on him, then—

The blade was an inch from her ribs when the collar finally forced her into action.

Mana was ripped from her pool and [Sublimate] was cast. She faded into smoke, twisting and reappearing a few feet away from the rusty haired Nekomata, already leaping back. She’d been almost completely undetectable in her approach, but Fourteen’s skills were stronger than the girl’s.

Fourteen tried not to be disappointed that she was still breathing. The Neko girl had gotten closer than anyone had in a long time to sneaking up on her, even if she’d been using the shadow-wrapped man to distract the collar as long as she could. Resigning herself to having to take another life before the shadowy man could kill her, she cast [Conjure Dagger] before the collar could force her to. It was inevitable now, and she hated the feeling of the collar ripping her mana out.

Two long, curved daggers slid into her hands as if falling from her sleeves, though she knew they hadn’t existed a moment ago. “I’m sorry,” Fourteen whispered. The Nekomata girl’s ears twitched, but she didn’t respond. Fourteen threw a dagger that the girl barely dodged, then the collar forced her to [Blink] and close the distance between them in a fraction of a second.

Her blade was lashing out towards the Nekomata’s jugular when she was forced to twist, slicing an arrow out of the air that would have pierced the wrist of the arm still holding a dagger. In the time it took her to spot the human girl with a bow in hand and a cowl pulled low over her face, she’d had to block or dodge four more arrows, shot so impossibly close together that Fourteen could only search for the second archer.

But, too late for the collar to force her to redirect, she realized she’d been baited. The five initial arrows hadn’t been the attack, the sixth arrow shot in the space she’d been forced to dodge to was. It sunk into her thigh, and she’d barely even registered the pain before the collar had her shear the shaft off.

The arrow hurt like a motherfucker, but the collar didn’t give a shit about pain. Still, she could work with this. She assessed the fight and decided that the Neko was relatively harmless and the archer was the threat. Predictably, the collar forced her on the offensive, and her feet carried her towards the archer.

She’d only made it a few painful steps when she felt the presence behind her and the collar hurled her to the side. Whether she had a teleporting skill or a presence hiding skill, the Neko had gotten close enough to leave a shallow cut on her lower back.

Fourteen rolled to her feet, still convinced the archer was the real threat. She loosed a barrage of arrows in the time it took Fourteen to close the rest of the distance, but Fourteen was too quick for any of them to find purchase. A [Blink] closed the distance and she lunged in, ready to take advantage of the small window where archers always tried to scramble for their blades…

…and was completely caught off guard when the archer’s bow cracked across her jaw. The second strike from the other end of the bow hit her nose, causing her head to jerk back. Pain erupted in her side, and she staggered back to see that the archer had plunged her next arrow into Fourteen’s side. It was a spot that wouldn’t kill her, but it hurt like hell.

In the time it took Fourteen to stagger back a single step, the archer already had another arrow nocked and aimed. The collar forced her to [Sublimate] again just as the arrow began to pierce her chest. She reformed a few feet back, rubbing the fresh cut on her chest and snapping off the arrow at her side.

“That was fucking awesome,” Fourteen said. If she hadn’t been wearing a slave collar, she’d really want to be this girl’s friend.

The archer smirked, and the collar yanked Fourteen away from another perfectly executed sneak attack from the Neko. But when her legs moved a hair too slow and the Neko’s blade caught Fourteen’s bicep, she realized what was happening.

“Don’t rely on the poison on your weapons,” she said before the collar could stop her, “I’m trained to be resistant to—” The words died in her throat, but it was enough. Neither of her opponents reacted, but she had to hope they would take what she’d said into account.

She focused on the archer and the Neko faded away again. Her stealth skill was a powerful one, it seemed. Fourteen and the archer faced off, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Fourteen clocked the four arrows still in the woman’s quiver. She hadn’t drawn one, but she’d more than proven she could draw, aim, and shoot in the time it took even a decently skilled archer to nock an arrow. Whatever was going to happen, it would be quick.

The Neko’s blade passed so close to Fourteen’s neck that it severed a few hairs at her nape and the archer unleashed her arrows. Fourteen rolled as soon as the fourth one had been loosed and was met with a flash of silver as soon as she’d found her feet.

The thick throwing knife would have caught her dead center in the chest, but [Sublimate] activated for a third and final time. She felt the collar’s orders shift the second she reformed and knew she was about to flee. A part of her was glad the archer and the Neko would live, though she wished they might have taken her down. Without Nine, she wasn’t sure how much longer she would last in this life.

But before she could take a single step, the archer shouted, “Rhallani, now!”

Fourteen sought out the Neko at the same time [Sixth Sense] alerted her to a new threat from behind. She whirled, still off balance from the weakened effects of the poisons, expecting a third attacker. She was right, in a way, but otherwise completely unprepared for the sight flying at her.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” she screamed, raw fear forcing her muscles to lock up in spite of the collar’s commands.

A snake. A fucking snake was launching at her. Not just any snake, either. One that was far longer than she was tall and as thick around as one of Nine’s thighs. Fangs longer than some of the blades she’d used in her time sank into her shoulder and she screamed, partly in pain and partly in terror.

She hit the ground and the weight of the snake rolled her. The next thing she knew, it was wrapped tightly around her body and squeezing so hard she could barely breathe. The collar made her fight, but her arms were pinned solidly to her side. Worse—or better, depending on her point of view—she could feel the venom being injected into her.

She expected pain or death, but what she got instead was…numbness. A warm, pleasant nothingness that started from the bite until the only thing she could feel was a pleasant buzz from her toes to her fingertips. Her head lolled as an Arelim stepped into view, sweat beading on her forehead.

“Hurry, it takes a lot of mana to use poison with my summons,” she said through grit teeth.

The Nekomata held her head up while the archer fished in a pouch. Fourteen forced herself to focus on the archer’s hard gaze. “You knew…” she slurred. “You knew I could only [Sublimate] three times. How did…how did you…”

Had they taken Nine? Tortured her? Imprisoned her? Was she truly dead, or was she a captive? Was Nine still alive? Her opponents had seemed to know her fighting style already, and Nine was the only one who could have prepared them so thoroughly. Thinking back, she realized the only truly dangerous injuries had been to force her to sublimate.

“Nine…” Her lips slammed shut when the archer pulled a vial of something out of her pouch.

“No questions, we don’t want the collar to panic,” she said shortly.

Fourteen had about a thousand she wanted to ask, but so long as the archer held a vial of mystery liquid the collar wasn’t going to let her so much as part her lips. The archer seemed to understand that, because her hand shot out and pinched Fourteen’s nose shut.

She tried to open her mouth, but it wasn’t until her vision started to dim and her chest began to convulse that it relented. The archer was quick, gripping her jaw and pouring the foul tasting liquid down her gullet. With how concentrated it was, Fourteen knew her resistance wouldn’t help her. She choked, the collar trying to force her to vomit, but it was too late. The venom from the giant fucking snake made her muscles too relaxed, and already her vision was starting to dim.

She looked to the archer, who seemed to be the one in charge of the trio, with a thousand questions in her eyes. Her hard expression softened, and she smiled. “Try not to come up swinging, alright? Someone will be there to explain everything.”

That did extremely little to answer the dozens of questions Fourteen had, but the potion was already starting to take effect. The battlefield started to dim, and she only then realized none of Feng’s men had even tried to intervene. Had the shadow man killed them all? Were they still fighting him? Had they just abandoned her?

When her eyelids finally became to heavy to hold up, she sent a prayer into the ether in the hopes that someone was listening. If Nine really was alive, then she’d beg the gods not to let their next master be as bad as their last. Then the collar’s commands finally seemed to give up, and Fourteen faded away into oblivion.

# # #

The plan went off perfectly, which made me extremely suspicious. My plans never went well. They always started great, and the universe always decided to take a shit on them at some point or another. As I cut down another one of the bandits, I couldn’t help but wonder when the cosmic dump was going to splatter all over us.

“Zaren!” Rhallani called.

I raced for the sound of her voice and was filled with satisfaction to see Fourteen snoring, a line of drool trailing from her lips, wrapped up in Fang’s massive, white scaled python form. It was a fucking terrifying sight when she summoned it, but it still carried Fang’s cuddly personality. I leaned down, carefully guiding the blade’s hungry shadows to the iron collar at Fourteen’s throat. A single touch, and it ripped the magic from the iron. It started to decay and rust until enough of it was gone, and Rhallani gingerly pulled it from around the Dark Elf’s throat to hurl it away.

Reese appeared, sliding arrows back into her quiver. “Went off without a hitch. You’re pretty good at this shit,” she remarked.

I nodded. “Pierce and the others hit the opposite side of the camp hard. Go see if they need help with the prisoners.”

She nodded and darted off. Just like I’d hoped, my show earlier was enough to convince these bandits that I was crazy enough and strong enough to try and take on the camp solo, so when Pierce and the others rolled out of the trees nearest the cages where the prisoners were being kept there weren’t any guards left to raise the alarm. By the time the bandits even realized what was happening, Pierce and the others were already freeing captives.

I looked to Rhallani and Nariko. “Get Fourteen out of here and to Elena.” The Elf was brave, I’d give her that. Her, Iris, and the Tiefling sisters were nearby, ready to help freed captives back to camp while we finished with the bandits. “Rhallani, have Fang take a form that can protect you better while you do.”

She let out a sigh of relief when Fang shifted to his wolf form. With Nariko’s help, they draped Fourteen’s lithe frame over the back of the wolf. “I can take her, Nariko wants to help with the other captives.”

“Then go. I’m going to go see if I can find the leader of this outfit before he skips off.”

They both ran off in different directions. Nariko disappeared after Reese while Rhallani ran next to Fang, making sure Fourteen didn’t slide off his back. I headed towards the center of camp at a brisk jog, shadows shifting around me angrily. So far, most of the men I’d killed had been little more than grunts. Small time criminals who’d joined up with the outfit for money or because they were on the run. I was expecting there to be bigger fish around, and I was disappointed I hadn’t found any yet. I checked my status.

[Health: 178/220]

[Mana: 96/140]

[Soul Essence: 68/130]

I’d made a very valuable discovery. I’d always known that the blade was devouring my soul whenever I used it, but with my new class I finally had a way to gage just how fast it was happening. Best guess, every minute I used the blade cost me about two Essence. If I were full, I could wield it longer than I’d ever been able to before.

Not only that, but I’d learned that with the additional control Soul Essence gave me, I could effectively throttle the connection between the sword and I. During moments like this where I was only holding the blade and not actively wielding it, I could get as much as five minutes for an Essence. I could open that connection more and more as I took control of the blade’s power, burning Essence for strength or additional control.

I passed two bandits who took one look at me and fell to the ground, cowering. I was never one to execute those without weapons, so I let them be. Well, I let the first one be. The second tried to strike me the second my back was turned, and my shadows made short work of him. I had to fight a smile at the emotions hummed from the blade into me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the blade was offended on my behalf that I’d shown the man mercy just for him to abuse it.

The tent in the center of the camp was much larger than the rest, so that was my destination. I was constantly monitoring my Links as well. I knew the others were in danger, but not any significant enough to warrant me rushing over. They were in a situation that could lead to injury, but [Danger Sense] would tell me if that danger rose to the point where their lives were at stake.

There were three men standing guard at the tent, and I knew the second they turned their weapons on me that these were far better trained than the ones I’d been fighting so far. I twirled my blade once and their eyes all traced the sword hungrily.

“I don’t suppose you three would consider surrendering?” I asked.

When they all started to fan out, I sighed. “They never do.” I opened the connection and felt my Essence being pulled, then launched myself at the nearest man. Our swords crossed once, twice, three times and he got a nick in. In an even fight, he might have been a problem. For once, thanks to the scary soul sucking sword, I had the upper hand.

Tendrils lashed out and knocked his blade skyward, giving me the opening I needed to cut deeply into his side. The tip of the blade left a searing wound in its wake and the man screamed. The second bandit tried to attack from behind, but my shadows kept him back with barely any input from me. The third was preparing a spell to cast, but before he could release it four bolts of arcane energy sent him to the ground. He’d barely tried to stand before Noelle slammed the side of her axe into his head, sending him slumping to the ground.

I finished off the one I’d injured and turned towards the third, who dropped his weapons immediately and fell to his knees with hands raised. I closed the connection to the sword, only swaying slightly, while Serena rushed forward to hogtie him with a surprising efficiency.

She stood, then paused when she saw my raised brow while Tiana walked up next to me, her hand finding the small of my back as if she needed to reassure herself that I was fine. “You know Rhallani is going to be furious when she learns you know how to tie people up like that, right?”

Serena flushed. “Really? That’s where your mind is going right now?”

I shrugged. “Fighting for my life is my happy place. Sue me.”

“Oh Zaren,” Tiana said, patting my chest, “we are so going to have to unpack that later.” I couldn’t help but notice the way the shadows parted to give her access to me, nor did I miss the hum of satisfaction from the sword at the contact. Something else to unpack later.

I scoffed, turning towards the tent. “That sounds like something Later-Zaren is going to worry about. How did things go on your end?”

“The captives are all on the way back to camp,” Serena offered.

“Well,” Tiana interjected, “with the exception of the Anford guards we freed. They were on patrol and got too close to the camp, apparently, but they were more than happy to grab a sword and help out.”

I looked at Noelle. “Fourteen is on her way back to camp as well.”

She smiled, hefting her axe. “I have not killed anyone today. They go down rather well when I hit them with the flat of the blade.” Her smile widened. “I like not killing.”

I chuckled. “Come on, let’s see if we can get some answers.”

I pushed into the tent with my girls on my heels. There were four men inside, and all of their heads whipped up to look at me. One man was frantically shoving papers into sacks, a second scooping gold and valuables into a box. A third drew his weapon and pointed it at me, but it was the fourth that was the real pain. A mage of some sort who was currently holding up a blue dome that I knew to be a rather powerful shield spell that would protect its inhabitants.

I walked right up to the edge, and the man who’d been shoving papers into his back straightened. He had the air of a bandit leader, only cemented by his arrogant sneer. I smirked. “You’ve spent so long looking for me, surely you aren’t going to go running off so soon,” I said, raising the sword.

His sneer soured. “They didn’t say you’d be able to use it. That might as well be a breach of contract in my books.”

I arched a brow. “This doesn’t have to end in your death. Throw down your arms, answer some questions, and I’ll hand you over to Anford’s guard alive.”

He scoffed. “I’m no fool. I do that and I’ll hang.” He paused. “I tell you everything you want to know, and you let us walk away.”

A humorless laugh slipped from my throat. “Not a chance. You aren’t leaving the camp alive. You’re either walking out in chains or not at all. Your choice.”

He shook his head. “I can see why they’d want the sword, but they can come get it their damn selves.”

“Who hired you?”

“Like I’d tell you.” He shook his head. “Fucking kids sticking their noses where they don’t belong. You’ve stepped into something a lot bigger than your idiot brain can comprehend.”

I briefly wondered how his tune would change if he realized he was talking to the Zaren Nocht, slayer of Zagrith Grimsbane. I sighed. “So be it.”

I raised the blade and touched it to the edge of the barrier. The mage smirked, but his expression went slack quickly. The shadows burrowed into the perfect blue surface, unraveling the magic at a core level and ripping it apart before devouring it. The previously impenetrable shield crumbled, and the shadows raced across them and into the outstretched hand of the mage who’d held the shield up until that point. They tore into him, searching for more magic to unravel, and he screamed.

Angry red veins ripped through his flesh and an unexpected rush of pleasure came from the blade while it quite literally ripped the magic from the man’s blood. It took some effort, but I finally managed to rein them in before they fully killed the man.

He fell to the ground with a pained whimper, cradling his damaged arm that hung limp. “What the hell did you do?”

I winced. “Sorry, still getting used to certain aspects of this thing. You should probably know there’s a small chance you’ll never be able to channel mana through that arm again. I’d feel bad if not for all the killing, kidnapping, and enslavement you’ve been up to.”

The men all shot me horrified looks. The man in the center took one look at the mage and dropped his weapon, raising his hands. Feng snarled at him before launching at me with a rapier drawn. I internally cursed since his lighter, smaller weapon would have the upper hand in such close quarters. The second our blades crossed, I felt my Primal surge worryingly. This guy was of a considerably higher level than me.

He was fast and skilled, and we’d barely traded blows for more than a few seconds before he’d slipped my guard and his blade scraped along my ribcage. Rather than knocking him away, I curled my blade around his and dragged it across my body, catching his grip in a bind and forcing him to choose between losing his sword or breaking his wrist.

He chose to lose the sword, and I twisted my body to send it spinning away. Before I could press my advantage, he was coming at me with two thick daggers, staying inside the reach of my sword. My shadows lashed out at him, but an amulet at his neck flared violet and the shadows bounced off.

He struck out with the daggers, and to my eyes it was as if he’d split into multiples, all coming at me from different directions. My shadows only reacted to one, so I chose to strike at that one. My sword caught something solid and he jerked back with a surprised grunt, but that amulet glowed brighter and kept the magic of my sword from taking root.

I might be able to defeat him, but not quickly. He was too skilled, and if he’d been sent for the sword then I’d bet money that the amulet he was wearing had been designed for that purpose. I felt a sense of frustration coming from the blade alongside a sense of familiarity of the magic in that violet glow that only cemented my theory.

My Soul Essence was dipping more than I was comfortable with, which meant it was time for me to enact my last ditch plan that had gotten me out of more than a few sticky situations. I risked a glance to make sure I wasn’t going to make things worse, but Serena had already tied up the mage and the man who’d thrown his sword down while the fourth man was on the ground with Noelle’s axe at his throat and Tiana rifling through his pockets, pulling more than a few blades out and throwing them behind her.

Sorry about this, I thought to the blade, just before I flipped it over in my hand an tossed it to the man in front of me hilt first. Surprised, he did the only thing that came naturally. He dropped one of his daggers out of the air and snatched the blade.

Big mistake.

The connection between me and the sword severed, but not before I felt a rush of emotion. Indignation. Fury. Rage. I got a glimpse into the man in front of me and felt the echoes of the pain he’d caused. But what I felt was only a fraction of what the blade seemed to feel, and it was not happy with the man who was holding it.

He screamed shrilly as shadows erupted from the blade and tore into his arm. The amulet at his neck glowed brighter and brighter until it cracked. The flesh began to shrivel, first darkening to the burn I’d carried for over a week, then progressing until the flesh started to shrivel and crack. He screamed louder and louder until I took mercy and slammed my fist across his face and extracted the sword from his grip.

His breath heaved and his body trembled. He tried to crawl away, but his arm was blackened and curled against his chest. The blade did its equivalent of screaming at me in anger through whatever connection we had, and I winced.

“Sorry, I guess that’s probably not so pleasant for you, huh?” When the man looked up at me incredulously, I waved a hand. “Not you. Now, we’ve got two options here. You tell me what I need to know and I give you over to those guards we just freed, or I see how much of the blade’s magic you can handle before you start to sing.”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

I dug the tip of my blade into the dirt and glanced at the man under Noelle’s axe whose eyes were fixed on me. “The real question is how much your second in command can answer.” I looked back to the leader. “Might not need you alive after all if he knows enough.”

There was hatred in the man’s glare, but I was rather unbothered by it. “What do you want to know?” he seethed.

I hovered the tip of my sword over his chest. “Who hired you?”

I could hear his teeth grinding, but it was the second who spoke up. “Everard Bryce!” he barked. When I raised a brow, he couldn’t talk fast enough. “He’s a councilman from Amesseria! He contracted us to find the sword and provided the amulet and the compass.”

“Shut the fuck up!” the leader screamed.

“He also hired us to cause chaos. Taught us how to use Nekomata blood to lure things like blighwolves and gnolls around. Provided that collared gnoll, too, to take over the pack.”

“Danik, if you say one more word—”

“He also paid us to collect demi-human females! Young ones! We got a bonus for really low levels and an even bigger one for any rare classes we could find. He never told us why, and we didn’t ask because that was the job, but he didn’t pay us nearly enough to deal with whatever the fuck that sword just did to Feng.”

I looked to the man I figured was Feng. “Well, I like him. He’s really making me question why I’ve left you alive this long. Who hired you to attack our caravan? You didn’t know I had the sword until I pulled it out, so I know that wasn’t the reason.”

Feng seethed. “Fel Vossen hired me to teach you and the blond a lesson, but he neglected to mention the blade to me.”

Well, it was a damn good thing I hadn’t told him about it then. Seemed Sola was right about him being more than a little upset by me pissing him off. “How were you supposed to deliver the demi-humans?”

“Dead drop. Leave them at a location then walk away,” the second offered helpfully. “They did something that drew a bunch of wealthy Patrons back towards the capital, so we were hired to be a net and snag as many as we could.”

I slid the sword back into its scabbard, doing my best to hide my relief as I clicked the latch back into place. My head was starting to pound already, and standing here with the blade out was going to do more harm than good. “Well aren’t you just a font of information.” I looked back to Serena. “Tie them up, we’ll hand them over.” Then to Tiana. “Grab anything that looks important, guys like him usually have a little black book full of dirt on the people they work for just in case. I’d like to find that.”

I turned my attention back to Feng and the oh-so-helpful-second. “I’ll turn you over, and if you want me to even suggest to the guards that you deserve anything other than the gallows, you might want to think up some more interesting information.”

They’d given me a fucking gold mine, but I wasn’t about to let them know that. I looked around the room one final time before the hair on the back of my neck rose. Someone was outside, their shadow being cast against the canvas of the tent, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the cosmic turd had finally landed.