《Savage Utopia [Gritty Adventure/Romance LitRPG]》


 World Map

    Lore tidbits


    -Octants: The Frontier has eight inhabited zones, known as octants, that correspond to the eight Shores of Awakening scattered across the land.


    -Shores of Awakening: Shores of Awakening are places along the coast of the Frontier where humans appear after being granted access to the Concord. In the Better Times, winged boonkin created by the goddess would carry people safely to the shore. Now that demons have taken over the Frontier¡¯s administration, new arrivals are allowed to drop straight into the ocean. A large percentage of them die from exposure, drowning, being dashed against cliffs or a rocky sea floor, or even impact with the water itself.


    -Name: The world was technically given the name Faerlon by Era, but many would informally call it the Frontier instead. After the goddess¡¯s death, someone began calling it the ¡®Forlorn Frontier¡¯ instead of the ¡®Faerlon Frontier¡¯, and the name stuck. These days, there are very few lifers who refer to the Frontier by its original name.


    -Timeline: Humans have been sent to the Frontier for the last 50 years, with the first 25 years known as the Better Times, marked by peace and prosperity with angels guiding humanity on behalf of the goddess, providing them with the knowledge and guidance needed to flourish.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    In the 25th year, the goddess was murdered by a lifer named Crow, and the world was thrown into chaos. This event is referred to as the Deicide. The angels disappeared, and without the rigid structure of the divine powers, humanity collapsed in on itself in a mad scramble for power. What followed was a ten-year-long war known as the Strife, human factions fighting both each other and the surging monster populations. This resulted in countless deaths and a near-collapse of civilization before a shaky stalemate was reached.


    In the fifteen years since, little progress has been made toward rebuilding what was lost. In fact, humanity is pushed back on almost every front by ever-increasing monster attacks. At least they are mostly too busy fighting the beasts to consider warring with each other.


    -Monsters: The Frontier was once a safe and verdant place, and lifers roamed freely across its open lands. However, in the years after the goddess¡¯s death, demons emerged to replace the angels that abandoned humanity, ingratiating themselves in everyday society by offering tempting contracts with mortals and getting them hooked on their various infernal services.


    At the same time, a foul corruption began to spread out from the center of the continent, which became known as the Unmaking. Inside the Unmaking was a terrible, unfathomable being, the Devil Queen, who revealed herself in Era¡¯s absence and began giving birth to monsters that spread out from her fortress, the Hellmouth, and blanketed the land. With an unquenchable hatred for all mankind, they drove the squabbling humans back to the coasts and threatened to wipe them out entirely.

 Chapter 1 - Could I Borrow Your Demon Real Quick?

    [Ah yes, the ten Professions¡­]


    [Artisan, Builder, Cook, Entertainer, Explorer, Farmer, Laborer, Physician, Scholar, and Trader. Adopting these, the poor souls that arrive at Faerlon after death¡ªcriminals and scoundrels of the worst sort¡ªare given a second chance to lead productive, peaceful lives while enjoying the many blessings of the Concord system. A ¡®do-over¡¯ for those dealt a bad hand by fate.]


    [Under the goddess¡¯s wise guidance, they will surely all live in perfect harmony.]


    [Wait¡ªwhat are they doing? They¡¯re¡­ They¡¯re not supposed to use their abilities that way.]


    [No, don¡¯t do that! Stop killing each other!]


    [Oh dear¡­]


    Will


    Three men and five chimps sat in a rough circle, smoking cigarettes and making light conversation. It had been a long walk from Sheerhome, and if Will¡¯s gut feeling was anything to go by, they still had a long day ahead of them.


    Will took a last drag off his cigarette, put out the smoldering butt against a nearby rock, and blew a sharp stream of smoke out the corner of his mouth. ¡°All right fellas, break time¡¯s done. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    The chimps glowered. They huddled closer together, hunching their furry shoulders protectively over their smokes as though he might snatch them away if they weren¡¯t careful.


    Kiddo jumped up, a hand resting on the rusted shortsword hanging at his side. His wild straw hair was badly tamed by a knitted red cap, which only pushed down the blond tangle so it half-covered his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m ready, Master One-Eye!¡± he said, a little too loudly considering the nature of their mission. Will considered giving the lad another lecture on the essence of subterfuge, but settled for a weary sigh instead.


    Mongrel lounged on a rotted log, one leg steepled on top, the other outstretched in the spring-thawed undergrowth. Looking at least half a chimp himself¡ªthe fabled missing link, perhaps?¡ªthe odd little man pretended not to have heard. Mongrel was squat, with long, gangly limbs and a big, round belly and a thin, floppy neck that made him look put together all wrong. He chewed on a piece of jerky, the end sticking out between his crooked teeth and slowly being retracted inside as he worried at the aged meat.


    Will stood, strapping on his sword belt; took comfort in the familiar weight of the saber on his hip. He clapped his hands together. ¡°Come on, gentlemen. I can¡¯t afford to waste AP surveilling this place all day, and I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t want to sit around getting your asses wet. Get your boys moving, Mongrel. That¡¯s an order.¡±


    Mongrel glanced over, scratching at his belly, and gave a haughty snort. He made no show of rising. ¡°Since when do you give me orders, boy?¡±


    ¡°I seem to remember someone saying that being in charge was too much work.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, counter argument¡ªshut up.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯ll make you get up¡ªgladly.¡±


    Mongrel attempted to ignore him for another several moments, but quickly withered under Will¡¯s one-eyed stare. Grumbling a stream of curses, he rolled off the log and onto his feet, wiping bits of wet mulch off the back of his trousers. His own belt fit him poorly, sword hanging askew and frequently swinging between his legs to trip him up. His boots were mismatched, a brown and a black, one or both likely stolen from somewhere. Every time Will looked at the man, he was met with a fresh wave of morbid fascination at the pure chaos of his presentation. Still, there was a shrewd glint in the little man¡¯s eyes, as though he were playing the whole world a prank with his lazy oaf routine.


    At a sharp whistle from Mongrel, the chimps put out their cigarettes and rose to form up in a somewhat orderly group around him. Three wore shortbows in soft leather cases on their backs, while two hefted heavy wooden mallets. They were Mongrel¡¯s familiars, each one wearing an open-front vest with a number sewn onto the breast in yellow¡ªone through five¡ªas well as a larger matching number on the back.


    ¡®Kill bad fucker man now?¡¯ Number One signed with his hands. He was the oldest of the boys, with as much gray as black in his sparse fur, which made him the de facto leader of their little troupe.


    ¡°Yes¡ª¡± Mongrel began.


    ¡°Not if we can help it,¡± Will interjected. ¡°We¡¯re here for the demon, nothing else. We¡¯ll be ready for a fight, but I¡¯d like to avoid one if possible.¡±


    Mongrel''s frown made his puffy face look even uglier. He scratched at his teacup-sized bald spot. ¡°What about the bounty?¡± he asked. ¡°That Buck fellow¡¯s got a big price on his head.¡±


    Will nodded patiently. ¡°So he does. And for good reason.¡±


    ¡°I hear he put on a play mocking Brimstone right in his own city. No wonder the old bastard¡¯s all fired up over him.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s true, but I do know that he¡¯s proven himself to be quite the nuisance over the last few months, hitting slave convoys between Sheerhome and Timbryhall. My informants think he¡¯s at least Level 16, which means he¡¯s unlocked his semblance, which means¡­¡± He looked around at everyone in turn, even the chimps, waiting for someone to fill in the blank.


    ¡®Means be careful?¡¯ signed Number One.


    Will nodded. ¡°Yes, very good. I¡¯m glad somebody¡¯s paying attention. Now, let¡¯s take our places, people. Remember, I¡¯m going up first. I¡¯ll Pulse if things start looking dicey, and that¡¯s when the rest of you come in. Got it?¡±


    There were murmurs of assent from the men and a few bobbing nods from the chimps. Good enough, Will thought, and took the lead as they began trudging up the hilly forest.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    A bit of winter chill clung to the air, unwilling to release its grip from the land and give way for true spring. The sun shone down through green conifers swaying in the wind, dappling the frosty forest floor in a sliding patchwork of light and shadow. In the distance, a woodpecker drummed out a too-quick beat to their march. Ahead, a bushy-tailed squirrel shot up the trunk of a pine, peered suspiciously at them through the branches high above.


    They crested the incline and reached the edge of the wood, trees replaced by manmade works in the bowl-shaped stretch of land that opened up below. A loose cluster of houses huddled together, surrounded by fields that had not been tended in years. Millstone was one of many abandoned villages on the Frontier, its inhabitants having fled to the better defended cities once monster attacks began ramping up.


    A large hall with a slanted roof reminiscent of an overturned boat dominated the village, standing head and shoulders above its squat neighbors. It was also the only building with light pouring out of the cracks in its shuttered windows.


    Will crouched low so that he was halfway concealed behind shrubbery, and the others followed his lead. ¡°Detect [Life],¡± he murmured, words thrumming with power, and one of the fourteen sparkling gems on his left forearm winked out.


    The world appeared to change, trees around him taking on a soft glow, branches trailing spectral afterimages when they moved. In the village, a grouping of small lights shining through the wall of the longhouse displayed the presence of humans.


    Will looked around carefully¡ªstudying Millstone itself, then the fields, then the treeline¡ªbut there was no sign of any other people. Good. That meant they didn¡¯t have anyone on watch. Irresponsible on Buck¡¯s part, but it suited Will just fine.


    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± he said. ¡°No lookouts.¡±


    Mongrel nodded, stuffing another bit of jerky in his mouth. He gave an order in sign, and the three chimps with bows each picked their own sturdy tree and scrambled up it. They perched themselves in the coniferous crowns at least fifty feet up, where they had perfect vantage points over the village. The two that remained, along with Mongrel and Kiddo, followed at a good distance as Will descended into Millstone.


    He kept his saber sheathed, but took one of the small throwing knives he kept strapped at the back of his belt¡ªits blade only finger-length¡ªand palmed it in a thin-gloved hand so none of it showed. Just in case, he thought. If things did turn violent, he wasn¡¯t sure he liked his odds in a fair fight.


    The moving motes of light inside the longhouse became larger and clearer the closer he got, separating from one another so he could tell them apart. There were more people inside the longhouse than he had expected. He counted eight. Buck must have recruited some of the slaves from the convoys he had hit, not just selling them on.


    Will walked along a path where weeds had begun furtively poking their heads through the thaw, passed old husks of buildings that had once been homes. More than one had its woodwork scored with claw marks or tooth prints.


    Reaching the longhouse, Will pulled low his pinned-up left sleeve so it covered his AP crystals. He could vaguely make out singing and laughing inside. Maybe even an instrument being played. He didn''t make out the demon among these men, but he hadn''t expected to, either. Demons did not appear on a Detect [Life]. He could have done a separate scan for her, but decided that he didn''t want to waste the AP.


    Forcing back a wave of apprehension, Will raised a fist and pounded on the faded double doors. The ghostly figures inside became very still, and their merriment went dead at once. One figure moved, nearing the doors. The others stayed put.


    Will backed away several steps as the doors were unlatched and swung open, revealing a handsome man standing confidently beneath the portal, arms crossed, backlit by firelight. He had perfectly styled hair worn swept back, and wore a fur-lined jacket; open at the front to show off a bare, lean-muscled torso beneath. He wore his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, making no effort to hide his sheet.


    ¡°We don¡¯t get many visitors around here,¡± the man said in a full, almost sing-song voice that seemed made for telling epic tales or reciting poetry. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re here for tea.¡± He glanced at Will¡¯s covered left arm, and a knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.


    ¡°You¡¯re Big Deal Buck, I take it?¡± Will asked.


    The man nodded. ¡°Always happy to meet a fan.¡±


    ¡°Afraid I¡¯m not here for an autograph.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not, are you? As it happens, your reputation precedes you, too.¡± Buck motioned to his left eye with a pinky finger. ¡°You¡¯re Brimstone¡¯s pet killer. What is it he calls you again?¡±


    ¡°I am the lord¡¯s Misfortune,¡± Will supplied dryly. He hated that title.


    ¡°Aha. You have quite the reputation, Mr. One-Eye. The ghost stories they tell about you are enough to make a big tough Laborer shiver in his boots.¡± Buck did not look particularly intimidated. He shrugged, and his smirk grew into an infuriatingly self-confident grin, showing immaculate teeth. ¡°Of course, I¡¯m not too partial to those stories myself. Bit morbid for my taste. I prefer the romantic ones.¡± He tapped the side of his nose. ¡°I was wondering when old Brimstone was going to start sending some real professionals after me.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re mistaken. I¡¯m here to bargain with you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? You going to ask politely before you string me up by my own intestines?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not out to kill you.¡±


    Buck snorted out a laugh. ¡°Right. You know, people used to put a bit of effort into their lies.¡±


    ¡°I heard you have a demon. I want to borrow her. You do me that favor, and I¡¯ll let you and your people go, safe and sound. I¡¯ll tell Brimstone you¡¯d already cleared out by the time I got here, trail gone cold.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll let me go, will you? That¡¯s right charitable of you, Mr. One-Eye. Isn¡¯t it, boys?¡± Buck glanced over his shoulder as rough-looking men began streaming out of the longhouse. They formed up on either side of him, all eight of them, just as the duration of Will¡¯s Detect [Life] ran out, and the glow faded. The men wore their left arms covered, effectively concealing Profession, level, and current AP. They carried an assortment of weapons, ranging from swords to knives to clubs.


    Buck himself stripped out of his fur-lined jacket and tossed it nonchalantly aside, taking pride in showing off the seventeen sparkling AP crystals that studded his left arm. ¡°So?¡± he said, rattling a saber on his hip that was almost a twin to Will¡¯s own. ¡°May I have this dance?¡±


    I guess that means no deal, Will thought sourly. Why can¡¯t anyone be reasonable in this damn place?


    He sighed. Standing sidelong to conceal his off-hand, he made a series of quick hand signs. ¡®Amp (Two): Pulse.¡¯


    Targeting a random spot twenty feet off to his left, he cast the skill, and a sudden ripple went through the air. Not quite a gust of wind, or a shockwave, but something inside the mind. Like the tugging sense of being watched by someone standing just outside your peripheral vision, only stronger. Instinctively, the men all turned to investigate the source of the disturbance.


    Which left them perfectly exposed to the arrows that came whistling out of the golden sunset. Three fletched lengths of wood found three targets. There were cries of shock and pain. Men scrambled; fumbling for weapons, whipping around, shouting in confusion.


    Not giving fear time to set in, Will capitalized on the turmoil as he flipped the palmed throwing knife up between pointer and middle finger, then tossed it with a sharp flick of his wrist. Buck caught the danger and moved, frighteningly quick, but not fast enough to avoid the blade scraping a shallow cut across his cheek before flipping away.


    Another wave of arrows came, and Will was reinforced from behind by men and beasts pounding up toward the longhouse. Buck paid none of it any mind. Neither did Will. The two of them circled about each other like wary tomcats, drawing steel.


    ¡°Throwing knives, huh?¡± Buck said with an incredulous smile. ¡°There¡¯s more showman in you than I thought. And here I was assuming this would be a dull affair.¡± The Entertainer took an easy stance; lithe, naked chest lit double by golden sunset before and amber flame behind.


    Will took a more defensive posture, shielding his vitals. It seemed a thin comfort, then. His hands were clammy, and he found that he was gripping the saber too tight, forced himself to relax.


    This is going to hurt.

 Chapter 2 - Could I Borrow Your Demon Real Quick? [2]

    Will


    Buck made the first move. He launched into a soaring, dizzyingly fast leap. He spun in the air, a whirlwind of flashing metal. Will barely sidestepped, Buck¡¯s saber whooshing only half an inch from his ear.


    Buck had used at least two separate skills for the maneuver. Flash Step for the sudden burst of movement and Panache for the impossible number of mid-air rotations. Will chided himself for getting distracted by details, forced his mind to go blank as he deflected another cut.


    I just need to hold him off long enough. Can¡¯t let him beat me, but I also can¡¯t push him so hard that he feels cornered into using his semblance. That second one would not be a problem, he surmised.


    Will dodged and parried furiously, struggling to turn aside the serpent-quick blows Buck sent his way. The Entertainer moved in a showy, drunken swagger that well suited his Profession, making him nearly impossible to predict. When he looked off-balance, he instead pivoted on one foot and launched a daring thrust, poised like a dancer. When he looked to be preparing for a leap, he instead went low with a sweeping kick that Will only narrowly scrambled over. When he looked as though he was about to pile on the pressure, he instead hung back with that infuriating grin. Taking his time. Playing with his food.


    Will realized that he could not keep playing defense, or Buck would pressure him right off his feet. Despite the fact that only moments had passed, his back was already plastered with sweat, and he pushed sharp, hissing breaths through clenched teeth.


    Feigning a retreat from one of Buck¡¯s diagonal cuts, Will Repelled off the ground with his back foot, immediately reversing his momentum and sending himself forward. Buck laughed as he parried, dancing sideways and allowing Will to barrel past.


    ¡°Good one!¡± the Entertainer called good-naturedly. ¡°Allow me to retort.¡±


    But Will was not done. Still spinning around to face his opponent, he readied a Dash. The best movement skill available to Explorers, it was typically considered the lesser version of the Entertainers¡¯ Flash Step.


    But not to Will. He had a secret that made Dash by far the more attractive alternative.


    Will launched into stomach-lurching motion, the world seeming to warp around him with the speed of his advance. He felt himself catch on something, and came to a staggering halt just before a man wrestling with a chimp, the two of them stumbling off down the hill like drunken dance partners.


    I definitely hit something there, didn¡¯t I?


    Triumphant, Will looked back to see if his sword had found its mark, only to notice a growing blotch of red across his stomach. Separating a tear in his clothing, he found a long, nasty-looking cut.


    ¡°Motherfucker,¡± he muttered. He directed a glare at Buck, who came sauntering unharmed along the overgrown path, swinging his bloodied weapon in lazy figure-8s.


    ¡°Close one, there,¡± Buck said, his tone still light and bouncy. ¡°Try again, why don¡¯t you? Maybe you¡¯ll have better luck.¡± He hung his saber off to his left, leaving himself completely exposed. There was a glint in his eyes that was equal parts playful and lethal.


    ¡°Master One-Eye, I¡¯ve got your back!¡± cried a voice, and a young man came barreling out of the chaos to put himself between Will and the enemy, raising a shaky sword to bring down on the enemy.


    Will did not have time to cry out a warning. Buck skidded into a Flash Step, kicking up gravel as he slid past the boy. A moment later, Kiddo''s head tumbled off his shoulders. It rolled toward Will, red cap still tugged past his ears, a look of open-mouthed shock on his twitching face. It went past him and continued down the hill out of sight. The body fell in a heap like a puppet with its strings cut, severed neck watering the earth with warm blood.


    Will had no time to be annoyed at the boy¡¯s stupidity or saddened by his death. For the moment, he let it flow right past him, allowed it to fade to mental static.


    Buck had not even come to a full stop before he transitioned into another assault on Will. He soared high in the air, and when Will rolled right to keep Buck out of his blind spot, wincing at the burning pain in his midsection. Buck seemed to springboard off the air itself, finding purchase on nothing and instantly changing his momentum to stay on top of Will. Again, he scrambled out of the way, but as soon as Buck¡¯s feet hit the ground, he moved into a Flash Step that cut the distance between them lightning-quick.


    Will stumbled away from that exchange with another wound, clutching at his right shoulder with his free hand, blood trickling between his fingers. He rolled his arm to test its mobility and found that the muscle had not been cut. Still, his bag of tricks was running empty, and Buck¡¯s was seemingly endless. While he usually prided himself on his system knowledge, he didn¡¯t even know how Buck had done that thing with the air.


    Fucking Entertainers and their parlor tricks.


    They clashed swords again with a clang of steel on steel. On the follow-up, Buck threw out a fan of popping sparkles that confused the eyes with a murmured ¡°Glitter,¡± then went low and let Will¡¯s weapon pass over his head. He swept Will¡¯s legs out from under him, knocking him flat.


    Buck stood over him, taking his time with the finishing blow. Not ready to admit defeat, Will braced against the ground with his free hand and aimed another Dash, sending himself soaring high in the air past the Entertainer. He spun out of control thanks to his poor balance when casting the skill, and it was only by some miracle that he landed feet-first when he touched down on the other side of his enemy, knees nearly buckling with the impact. Being a cantrip, Dash did not cost him any AP, but all skills took a toll on the user¡¯s body. Eventually it added up, building fatigue. Will felt his vision doubling already, not sure if it was from exhaustion, skill overuse, or terror. Maybe a happy mix of all three.


    When he glanced back, expecting Buck to be coming for his neck, he instead found the man as unsteady on his legs as he was, a slightly glazed-over look in his eyes. He took a few tottering steps¡ªtrying to launch another assault¡ªthen fell to one knee, groaning, and his weapon rolled free of slackened fingers to clatter onto the stones.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Oh, thank god. It finally kicked in.


    ¡°What¡­?¡± Buck snarled. Confused, the mirth gone from his expression and replaced with a grim scowl. Slowly, he reached up and touched the only wound Will had scored on him, the small scratch on his cheek. He rubbed at the blood that came away between thumb and forefinger, chuckling to himself. ¡°Poison, huh? I should have seen that coming from someone with your reputation¡­¡±


    Will felt an enormous wash of relief, letting his heavy sword arm drop so the tip of his blade touched the ground. At Buck¡¯s accusing glare, he could only shrug apologetically.


    ¡°Fellas?¡± Buck called out, swaying on one knee as the poison strengthened its stranglehold on him. ¡°A little help would be nice.¡±


    But as he looked around him at the bloody piece of old Millstone, he found, as Will did, that none of Buck¡¯s men were left to answer him, the hillside covered in pincushioned bodies. The chimps were just finishing up, whacking dying men over the head with mallets, silencing pleading whimpers. Mongrel oversaw the effort, leaning fashionably against his unbloodied sword with his hip cocked. The Farmer had an incredible knack for getting out of work, and the killing kind was no different.


    Buck laughed tiredly, finally sagging sideways as the last strength fled his body. ¡°That¡¯s how it is, huh¡­? Never thought I¡¯d die¡­ in a shithole like this¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe you shouldn¡¯t have talked so much shit, then,¡± Mongrel muttered, scraping with a fingernail at a piece of food caught between his teeth. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll put that bounty money to good use. Might even drink a round in your name, if the mood strikes.¡±


    Buck seemed to find that unreasonably funny, and the two of them laughed about it like old friends.


    Will, however, had other plans. With a swipe of his hand, he opened his Inventory, a circular black void about a foot across that floated beside him. He reached in and pulled out the small medicine bag that he always kept in there. When he went to kneel at Buck¡¯s side, the man frowned up at him, suspicious, but Will pushed his head back into the dirt, forcing him to lie down.


    ¡°Now, you¡¯ve got two options,¡± Will said. ¡°Either use your semblance and hope it¡¯s enough to kill both of us, or¡­¡± He unbuckled and unfolded the satchel on the ground beside the man, revealing a selection of vials, bottles, bandage rolls, and clay pots.


    ¡°Or?¡± Buck asked.


    ¡°Or, you let me administer the antidote. The poison in your veins is a highly potent version of curare. Unless I stop it, you will either die of asphyxiation or heart failure in a minute or two as your muscles become unable to contract.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, what?¡± Mongrel asked, suddenly standing stick-straight in outrage. ¡°You¡¯re not talking about letting him go, are you?¡±


    ¡°I told you I didn¡¯t want to kill him. He¡¯s one of Brimstone¡¯s only meaningful enemies at the moment, which means he might prove useful in the future.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ the bounty.¡± Mongrel looked absolutely appalled, as though Will had suggested traumatic self-castration as a fun and exciting new leisure activity.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need the money.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself. Unlike the lord¡¯s perfect little killer, some of us are regular working stiffs without a mountain of cash to tuck ourselves into at night.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay you for your trouble.¡±


    Mongrel snorted. ¡°It¡¯s about the principle.¡± Number Three and Number Five, returning from their bloody business to stand beside their master, looked equally offended. It was downright eerie how well they synced up sometimes.


    ¡°I hate to break up your discussion,¡± Buck murmured, his lips gone bluish, ¡°but I¡¯m kind of¡­ dying¡­ down here. Any chance of that antidote?¡±


    Will nodded, ignoring Mongrel¡¯s further protests. He produced a small vial of clear liquid, unstoppered it with a flick of his thumb, and placed the top against Buck¡¯s lips, tilting his chin up to help the fluid go down as he began pouring.


    The Entertainer drank greedily. ¡°Thanks,¡± he sighed once it was empty, weakly smacking his lips. He tried to move his arms, and frowned when they flopped right back down at his sides again. ¡°You¡¯re sure this stuff works, right?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not an instant fix,¡± Will said, tucking the empty vial back in its place and replacing the satchel inside his Inventory. He stood up, growling at the fresh lines of pain marring his upper body. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to move normally again within half an hour. We¡¯ll be long gone by then.¡±


    Buck glanced around him. ¡°You killed all my friends, you know. Real grateful that you¡¯re sparing my life and all, but if you think it¡¯s all water under the bridge¡­¡±


    ¡°You started it. Besides, you killed one of ours, too. I reckon we¡¯re even.¡±


    Buck sighed, looking up at the darkening sky. ¡°Whatever. Let¡¯s do this again sometime. Your house, next time.¡±


    Will chuckled, standing up and dusting off his knees. ¡°Sure. If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have an appointment with a demon.¡±


    They left Buck amid the corpses and entered into the warmth of the longhouse, which consisted of a single large hall filled with old benches and tables, a few of the latter laden with food and supplies. A great fire crackled in a hearth at the far wall. Mongrel¡¯s insistent grumblings faded away once they saw the woman sprawled out before the fire on a pile of rugs, her back turned to them.


    She looked over her shoulder at their approach, and a mischievous smile played in dangerous eyes. She rolled over, lounging with the easy grace of a housecat. Will felt clumsy under her gaze; unwieldy, somehow.


    The woman¡ªhe could not help but think of her as one, even though he knew her true nature¡ªwas fully nude. She was slender and womanly, gray skin contrasting against black lips and black nipples. Startlingly yellow eyes blazed like the fire behind her, and long, dark hair fell in perfect ringlets about her, like it had been arranged just so. She was beautiful as a predator, beautiful in a way that made clear it should be appreciated only from afar if you wanted to keep all your limbs intact.


    ¡°I am Nyx,¡± the demon said in a husky half-sigh, head propped up in her hand. ¡°It seems you boys have been fighting over me. I do so enjoy when humans murder each other for my affection.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not here for your affection, sorry to say,¡± Will said, his throat suddenly dry. He scratched at his stitched-shut left eye, feeling the bumps of the heavy sutures keeping the lids together. ¡°I¡¯m here to make a bargain.¡±


    Nyx studied sharp black fingernails, almost talons, with great interest. ¡°Very well. If it intrigues, I¡¯ll consider it.¡±


    ¡°I want to bring someone here from Earth.¡±


    The demon looked up, a sweeping eyebrow cocked in surprise and amusement. ¡°From Earth? To the Frontier? You realize that people only end up here one way, yes?¡±


    ¡°By dying, I know. Even so.¡±


    ¡°Why would you want to bring someone here anyway? I hate to disparage my own home, but it¡¯s more or less the ass end of existence, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my business.¡±


    Nyx rolled her eyes. ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t tell me, then.¡± She thought about his request, taking her time; made not at all uncomfortable by her nudeness. ¡°I¡¯ve only ever heard rumors of someone making a deal like this, but I suppose it should be possible. The prospect is exciting, I¡¯ll grant you that.¡± Her yellow eyes swiveled up; fixing him, pinning him in place. A cat eyeing a particularly tasty-looking mouse. ¡°Of course, something like this is going to cost you. Not only do you have to get someone to fetch this poor victim you want ported over, you¡¯ll also need to bribe the Tower custodian to get them through processing.¡±


    Will nodded solemnly. ¡°I¡¯m willing to pay whatever it takes.¡±


    The demon regarded him for a long moment, letting one claw trail across her smooth hip. A disconcerting smile spread across her face, revealing wickedly sharp top and bottom canines. ¡°What is your name, dearest?¡±


    ¡°Will.¡±


    ¡°Very well, William. I¡¯ll take on your request. Just tell me one thing first.¡±


    Will shuffled uncomfortably. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Why all this fuss for one human? Who are they, that you would go to such lengths?¡±


    ¡°Someone very special,¡± Will said without hesitation, forcing himself to meet the demon¡¯s gaze without flinching. ¡°Someone this world could use right now.¡±


    The demon pursed her lips to hide a smirk, but did not do a very good job at it. ¡°I see. So it¡¯s a woman, then.¡±


    Will did not reply.


    Nyx sighed¡ªsomehow she did even that smugly. She stretched, slid gracefully to her feet, and padded barefoot off the furs onto the smooth stone floors, approaching the two men. ¡°Shall we start talking about your end in all this? What are you willing to trade for such a monumental service?¡±


    Will swallowed hard. I¡¯ve always hated haggling.

 Chapter 3 - Just Another Day on Boring Old Planet Earth

    Sam


    ¡°Paper or plastic, Mr. Fredrick?¡± Sam asked as she began to scan the assorted groceries.


    ¡°Paper, please,¡± said the town priest¡ªan older fellow with graying hair who still retained a solid build.


    Sam pulled out two paper bags and packed away the items. Mr. Fredrick went to pay, struggling with hands rendered shaky by age to get his card into the reader.


    ¡°Actually, you can just beep the card if you want¡ªit might be simpler that way. Yeah, just place it against the top there.¡± She motioned to the boxy machine, and Mr. Fredrick tapped his card against various parts of it, frowning, until the thing eventually let out a happy chirp. ¡°There you go!¡± Sam said with a broad smile. ¡°Convenient, huh?¡±


    Mr. Fredrick shook his head, but gave a rueful smile of his own. ¡°How¡¯s an old fellow like me meant to keep up with all this technology, huh?¡±


    ¡°Want me to help you get those to the car?¡± Sam asked as the old priest reached for his bags.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re too sweet, but I couldn¡¯t possibly¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all good! I¡¯m getting off my shift now, so I¡¯ll be heading out the door in a minute anyway. Really, it¡¯s no trouble.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate it, hon, but I¡¯m not as weak as all that, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know that, sir. I¡¯ve seen your deadlifts. Pumping the lord¡¯s iron.¡±


    Mr. Fredrick chuckled, picking up his things. ¡°I think that counts as blasphemy, but I¡¯ll pretend I didn¡¯t hear it.¡± Heading for the door of the small, starkly lit bodega, he called over his shoulder: ¡°Be seeing you!¡±


    Sam waited a few minutes for her coworker to come in so she could hand off the counter, then went into the changing room to toss her name plate in a locker and slip on her running shoes. She headed for home at a brisk half-jog, meeting only a few runners and dog-walkers on the way. The town was sleepy even at its busiest, and it was getting dark, meaning most had already wrapped up their business for the day.


    Today was Friday, meaning she was due a visit to the cemetery on the way.


    But before she could make it there, she spotted something on the other side of the street. Mr. Fredrick stood there at the mouth of a side street nestled between two multi-story tenement buildings. He had let his grocery bags drop to the sidewalk, and he was speaking closely with a man Sam did not recognize.


    There wasn¡¯t anything overtly strange about it, but it just looked¡­ off. Sam checked her left and right, then swiveled to cut across the road at a quick trot, weaving between cars parked on either side to approach the two men.


    ¡°Everything all right, Mr. Fredrick?¡± Sam asked as she reached them, keeping her tone light. ¡°Is this a friend of yours?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re friends, aren¡¯t we, Mr. Fredrick?¡± the man said, something mocking in his tone. He had an arm slung over Mr. Fredrick¡¯s shoulders, glancing between Sam and the priest.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Mr. Fredrick said, sounding tired.


    The man nodded. ¡°There you have it. Now, we¡¯re just catching up, so if you wouldn¡¯t mind¡­?¡±


    Sam put her hands on her hips. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±


    ¡°The fuck?¡± The man let his head fall back and groaned dramatically, staring up at an overcast sky. ¡°Why¡¯ve you got to make this so hard? Run along already. You don¡¯t wanna get involved in this, I promise.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m already involved.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± The man took a step back from Mr. Fredrick, revealing the knife he had been holding to the priest¡¯s ribs. He waved the flashy bit of metal in Sam¡¯s direction. ¡°In that case, you can both empty your pockets. And unlike grandpa here, I won¡¯t believe you don¡¯t have a smartphone, so don¡¯t even try that.¡±


    ¡°Do as he says, girl,¡± Mr. Fredrick muttered, eyeing a milk carton that lay overturned on the pavement. ¡°He¡¯s got a knife. This isn¡¯t a game.¡±


    The man pointed the weapon lazily at Mr. Fredrick without looking his way. ¡°See? Listen to your elders. A little generosity goes a long way toward minimizing the number of holes I put in you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not giving you a thing. But if you walk away now, I¡¯ll let you.¡± Sam took a step toward him, and he backed away warily, keeping the knife between them. ¡°Were you seriously planning to rob a sixty-year-old priest? C¡¯mon, man. Have a little self-respect.¡±


    The mugger scowled at Mr. Fredrick, looking him up and down. ¡°He¡¯s sixty?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look a day over fifty, does he? He looks after himself pretty well. We go to the same gym, you know.¡± Sam kept advancing, and the mugger kept backing away until he hit the wall with a flinch. ¡°So, what¡¯ll it be?¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Fuck¡ª¡±


    Sam suckerpunched him in the mouth before he finished whatever he was going to say, snapping his head back against the wooden facade. She could tell by his tone that that wouldn¡¯t have gone anywhere. While he was still reeling in shock, she grasped his wrist and upper arm and twisted until she had his face pressed against the building, the knife coming free of his stick-straight fingers. She kicked the weapon over to Mr. Fredrick, who picked it up and blinked at the thing, dumbstruck.


    She kept the mugger like that while Mr. Fredrick used his old flip phone to call the police. It took the man a minute to realize he was actually a fair bit stronger than Sam, and he eventually managed to wriggle free and scamper off down the street. Whatever. It was a small town¡ªsomeone would catch up to him soon enough, and Mr. Fredrick had given a good description since he¡¯d been staring at the guy while giving it to the operator.


    ¡°That was reckless,¡± Mr. Fredrick said with an admonishing shake of his head when she wandered over. ¡°But¡­ thank you. Thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s no trouble.¡±


    ¡°You always say that.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s never any trouble.¡±


    Mr. Fredrick folded the mugger¡¯s knife into his back pocket in case the police needed it later, then bent down to pick up his bags. Sam got there first, snatching them away. ¡°I¡¯ll have to insist on carrying these for you now. You¡¯ve been through a traumatic event, you know.¡±


    Mr. Fredrick muttered what sounded an awful lot like a curse under his breath¡ªscandalous; what would Jesus think?¡ªand said: ¡°What about you, then?¡±


    ¡°You kidding? Getting to punch some weirdo was the highlight of my day.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t lying. The adrenaline rushing through her veins was making her feel all hot and giddy. It had been risky, of course. There had been a moment when she stepped into the mugger¡¯s range where he might easily have cut her open like a Christmas ham, if he had been a little bit more on the ball. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her jaw.


    ¡°You¡¯re a pretty strange girl, you know that?¡± the priest said as he fell in step beside her, turning their steps toward Mr. Fredrick¡¯s home.


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    ¡°In a good way, I think. Mostly.¡±


    Sam flashed him a grin. ¡°Thanks! I think so too.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you insist on lugging this stuff all the way to my door, then I have to insist that you stay for dinner. The missus will be happy for the company.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d never turn down a free meal. Food is my religion. No offense. I''m sure your fella is nice too.¡±


    An hour later, Sam found herself sitting with Mr. and Mrs. Fredrick in their cozy little kitchen, scarfing down a big plate of spaghetti bolognese. She was almost always hungry.


    The priest¡¯s stocky, white-haired wife hardly touched her own food, staring at the spaghetti vanishing into Sam''s mouth like she was watching a magic trick. ¡°Will that be enough protein for you, dear?¡± she asked uncertainly after some time. ¡°I know you sporty types need a lot of that.¡±


    Sam mopped up pasta sauce off her plate with a heel of bread, stuffed it in her mouth, and covered her lower face with a hand while she chewed forcibly, jaws working. After swallowing, she said: ¡°This is perfect, Mrs. Fredrick, thank you. Protein is good, but you need a lot of carbs to keep your energy up, too.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Let me know if there¡¯s anything else I can get you.¡±


    ¡°I mean...¡±


    Sam was properly full after two servings, patting her belly contentedly. Mrs. Fredrick insisted on cleaning the cut one of the mugger¡¯s teeth had left on Sam¡¯s knuckle, and after that they sat around the table chatting for a while.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re just rumors,¡± Mrs. Fredrick said after some time, ¡°but I feel that I have to ask you about some¡­ worrying things I¡¯ve been hearing.¡±


    ¡°Shoot,¡± Sam said with a nod.


    ¡°Margaret,¡± Mr. Fredrick said warningly, but the woman shot him a withering glare in return, then went on acting as though he had never spoken.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that you take part in these¡­ street fights, or whatever they call them. That you fight people for money. But that¡¯s not true, right?¡±


    Sam smiled. ¡°Oh, sure it is! Yeah, I have a match every other month or so. You can come watch if you want.¡±


    The old couple shared a concerned look between them. Mrs. Fredrick appeared to weigh her words before speaking, placing an aged hand on Sam¡¯s. ¡°Dear, I know money can be hard to come by, but you really shouldn¡¯t let unscrupulous people take advantage of you like that. I¡¯m sure Tom could get you a few shifts at the cemetery if you''d like. Couldn¡¯t you, dear?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mr. Fredrick said, nodding gravely. ¡°It¡¯s not glamorous work, and the pay is what it is, but between that and your other job, I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t need to turn to¡­ other places anymore.¡±


    Sam knew it was probably rude, but she couldn¡¯t help but grin at these poor people¡¯s concern. It was very cute. ¡°I don¡¯t do it for the money,¡± she said. ¡°Hell, they barely pay me anyway, since I always lose.¡±


    Mr. Fredrick blinked. ¡°Then, why¡­?¡±


    Sam¡¯s smile slipped a hair. She wished she had a satisfying answer to that herself. Finally, she said: ¡°I like the challenge. Besides, I think it¡¯s fun.¡±


    They let the topic drop. She could tell they thought she was insane. Maybe she was.


    When Mrs. Fredrick bustled off to clean the table and soak the dishes, the priest leaned close and said: ¡°Maggie doesn¡¯t like what you do.¡± He glanced up at his wife, making sure she was out of earshot, then back at Sam. ¡°I reckon I don¡¯t, either. But between you and me, I¡¯ll say a prayer that you¡¯ll win the next one.¡± He winked.


    Sam grinned. ¡°Thanks!¡±


    I¡¯m going to need it.


    By the time she took leave of the Fredricks, it was properly dark outside, but she stopped by the cemetery anyway. She went to her mother¡¯s grave first, speaking a few well-worn words. Then she went and sat cross-legged in the grass in front of Will¡¯s, turning on a little electric lantern she had left there ages ago. She also took out an old packet of cigarettes and a plastic lighter that she had stashed inside the lantern¡¯s glass paneling. Extracting one cigarette, she lit it and left it smoldering on the gravestone.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Sam said; legs drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. ¡°Sorry for being late. Stuff happened. I¡¯m here now, though. I don¡¯t know if you remember me telling you last week, but I have a fight in a couple days. Wish me luck, okay? Eleventh time¡¯s going to be the ticket, I think.¡±


    The mossy stone offered no reply. A small cylinder of ash dropped off the cigarette and dissolved as it was carried away on the breeze.


    Sam sighed into the silence. She wasn¡¯t sure how the absence of something could feel heavy, but it did. It weighed her down like a bag of bricks. ¡°I miss you,¡± she said, forcing a smile. ¡°A whole lot. Even though you could be such a little shit sometimes.¡± Then, after a while, she added: ¡°Oh! I saved someone from getting mugged today. Kind of made me feel like a hero for a minute. So that was pretty cool.¡±


    The gravestone remained unimpressed.


    Sam sat there at the grave until the cigarette burned down to the filter and fizzled out. Then she sat there a while longer.


    For some reason, she got this strange feeling of being watched, the hairs on her arms prickling. She dismissed it almost immediately. Just dreaming up ghosts in the night, probably. Only, she¡¯d never been afraid of the dark. Weird.

 Chapter 4 - Eleventh Time’s the Charm (For Sure This Time)

    Sam


    The old junkyard bustled with activity, people shoving for space around piles of assorted trash and finding seats on top of rusted cars. The horizon was broken up by a skyline of precarious junk towers and broken-down equipment and an old yellow crane looming above it all, cable arm swinging in the wind. There was a buzz of conversation, and sometimes money changed hands. A speaker system blared tacky music.


    Sam was about done stretching inside the improvised fighting ring. It was closed off by wooden poles hammered into the ground with mismatched ropes suspended from them, making about a twelve-by-twelve foot square. The packed earth underfoot was covered by a sheet of blue tarp with a liberal amount of holes and tears for some careless fighter to snag a foot on.


    Sam¡¯s opponent, a fellow named Luke, stood opposite her, checking the bandage wrapping on his fists. He was taller than average, and looked like he had good reach with those arms.


    That means I have to close the distance fast, get him on the ground. I don¡¯t have a chance in a stand-up fight.


    Sam gave her legs one last stretch and began bouncing on bare feet, trying her best to stay loose despite the nerves that were creeping in, threatened to freeze her solid. She popped her mouthguard in as the owner of the junkyard¡ªwho served as the announcer for these gatherings¡ªducked under the ropes and swaggered about the ring, delivering his usual drivel. Sam blocked out his existence, focused only on her opponent. The vaguely apologetic look in his eyes that seemed ¡®sorry that I have to do this to you¡¯ really pissed her off. She recognized it from most of the other guys she¡¯d fought.


    Of course, she couldn¡¯t blame them especially. She was a woman going up against a man¡ªthey knew they were going to go through her like a rock through wet tissue paper.


    She knew that, too. As did the spectators. Half of them were jeering all sorts of things, or laughing coarsely with their buddies.


    But this time would be different. It had to be. She¡¯d been training hard for it, after all. She''d learned from her mistakes, honed her technique. She was twice the fighter she had been just a year or two ago.


    That would be enough, wouldn''t it?


    Sam realized the fight had already started when the spectators¡¯ wild noise got louder and the junkyard owner scrambled out of the ring, snapping her out of her thoughts. Luke hesitated, looking at the retreating back of the man in charge as though he was still not quite sure about this whole thing.


    If he had any qualms about fighting a girl, Sam was about to disabuse him of that notion. She darted forward, closing the distance between them in a second flat, feet sliding on rough tarp with a grating squeak as she shot low, arms outstretched.


    Luke blinked, finally fixing his attention on her, but he moved too late to avoid the grapple. She got one of his legs, hooked the other with a foot, and tipped him over onto his back, spidering on top. He shot an arm out to tear her off, and she immediately focused all her attention on the exposed limb, wrapping himself around it and forcing him flat as she caught him in an armbar. Hands on his wrist and legs pinning his torso, she forced him wide, hyperextending his shoulder joint.


    Luke struggled, off-balance, grunting. Locked down and without proper leverage to work with, the difference in their reach and strength didn¡¯t mean as much.


    But god, was he strong. She struggled to hold the submission, but he caught a handful of her clothing and hauled himself around to slip his head clear, then his torso. When she tried to readjust her legs to get his head in a lock, he caught her with a fist in her gut, driving the air clean out of her.


    Luke slid free, climbing to his knees to stand back up. Refusing to let up, Sam kept after him and attacked his back this time. She wrapped her legs around his torso and wormed a hand in under his chin, tipping him back for a rear naked choke.


    He struggled to break it; growling, thrashing, arms flailing wildly. Sam squeezed harder, harder, until her muscles screamed.


    Just go to sleep, she thought, scarcely able to hear her own thoughts over the crescendoing roar of the crowd. Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep.


    She felt his resistance beginning to weaken, his body losing its strength as blood supply to the brain was cut. Sam gritted her teeth, straining to keep her choke tight, not wanting to let up even for a second.


    The moment she thought she had him, he came alive again with a surge of power¡ªsomehow rising up even with her clinging to his back¡ªand slammed them both back onto the tarp. His entire weight bearing down on her, Sam¡¯s grip slackened as she let out a breathless gasp, her ribcage becoming a web of shooting pain.


    Luke rolled around so they were facing each other, his face red and sweaty, eyes bloodshot. He dug his knees into her sides, pinning her beneath him, and she barely got her guard up in time before he began raining down fists and elbows.


    Before long, it was all Sam could do to keep her arms up.


    ¡°Give up,¡± she heard him shout over the din.


    She did not give up.


    She got a clean hit to his ribs at one point, but it was like he didn¡¯t even feel it. The match was already over once he got the mount on her, but she held out another minute or two before a stray hit caught her in the head.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    She woke up flat on her back, staring up at the junkyard owner¡¯s unshaven face and smelling the alcohol on his breath, missing any memory of the last thirty seconds. Needless to say, she had not stolen a surprise victory in that time.


    The junkyard owner gave her a pull from an electrolyte drink, and offered a consolatory clap on the shoulder when she was able to stagger to her feet.


    Sam felt like one big bruise. She blew bloody snot to clear her stuffy sinuses, felt like her eyeballs would pop right out in the process with the pressure swelling behind them. Her arms were mostly numb from the elbows down, and her step was unsteady as a drunkard''s.


    Luke soon came over, holding her up when she nearly fell flat into a pile of awfully sharp-looking¡ªand probably tetanus-loaded¡ªmetal refuse. ¡°Good fight,¡± he said, his voice sounding muffled and distorted like he was speaking underwater.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam grunted, not really in the best shape to be making conversation, physically or otherwise.


    ¡°You almost had me there a few times.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡±


    Luke guided her over to an old spongy car seat and pushed her down into it, ignoring her weak protests that she could stand perfectly fine. He sat on the ground next to her, and they watched the spectators gather around again as the junkyard owner began hyping up the next fight on the docket.


    ¡°You know they do fights with women too, right?¡± Luke said after a while.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d probably do really well there.¡±


    ¡°Probably.¡±


    ¡°I bet if you ask Toby about it, he¡¯ll set something up for you.¡±


    ¡°I bet he would.¡±


    Luke glanced at her side-long, leaned back and propped up on his hands, shoulders raised. ¡°But you¡¯re not going to do that, are you?¡±


    Despite the fact that it lit her face up with pain, Sam managed a bloody smile. ¡°Nope.¡±


    Luke laughed. ¡°Stubborn little bastard, aren¡¯t you? I can respect that. You¡¯ve got guts, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    Sam didn¡¯t have a compliment to pay him in return, so she remained silent, watching people mill about. Truthfully, she hated him. Or maybe she just hated losing. It being the eleventh time in a row did not lessen the sting of it at all. If anything, she felt the full weight of the previous ten come down on her at once.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Luke said after a while, clearing his throat. ¡°Think you need to get checked out down at the clinic? I don¡¯t mind coming with you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Sam grunted, feeling at a tender welt on her jaw, grimacing at the pain. ¡°I reckon they¡¯re sick of me over there by now.¡±


    ¡°Then, how about a pick-me-up burger? My treat.¡±


    Sam forced a tired smile, sparing the man a brief look. ¡°As a date?¡±


    Luke shrugged. ¡°Call it whatever you like.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°I¡¯ve already got a boyfriend.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t true, of course. In fact, Sam wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d ever had a boyfriend. Strangely, though, the well-worn lie had never felt like one, even when the man it brought to mind was five years in the dirt. Even though there hadn¡¯t been anything more than friendship between them before he died. At least, not on his end.


    Luke accepted the rejection gracefully, which she appreciated, and he helped her up again so she could begin hobbling home.


    * * *


    Getting to the apartment, Sam peeled out of her clothes as she shuffled toward the bathroom, letting each article lie where it fell. She dug her loser¡¯s winnings out of a pocket¡ªa sticky-red wad of crushed bills she didn¡¯t remember picking up¡ªand threw it in the general direction of the cash bowl on her kitchen counter, not bothering to check if she hit her target or not.


    She took a hot shower, curled up on the floor for most of it, then gingerly toweled herself off to avoid upsetting her injuries. She ended up getting blood on it anyway¡ªluckily she was using her old rag towel, the one that had definitely not been gray when she bought it.


    After that she spent fifteen minutes cleaning cuts and gluing shut the ones that looked like they might open up again. Slipping into some loose clothing that wouldn¡¯t rub on her abused skin, she went into the kitchen and chugged milk out of the carton and ate plain bread slices out of the bag.


    She lasted all of thirty minutes in front of the TV before the oppressive weight of her thoughts became too much to bear, and she headed to the gym to blow off some steam. Strangely enough, despite her punch-drunk daze, she got that same feeling of being watched again. Was the woman on that bench looking at Sam over her newspaper? No, surely not.


    Sam lost herself in the weights, lapsing into a trance where the pain in her muscles helped deaden her mind, and the simple, repetitive motions lulled her into blissful non-cognition.


    Sam came crashing back to reality when she found herself throwing up in one of the gym bathrooms after what she gathered was a pretty brutal workout, though she recalled very little of it. Her nose had sprung a leak, blood mixing freely with the yellowish bile and wet bread chunks in the toilet bowl, and the pounding in her right eye suggested that she had burst a vessel or something. Her already calloused hands were rubbed raw, and at this point she was hard-pressed to think of a body part that didn¡¯t hurt.


    I guess I should remember to take it a bit easier next time, huh?


    Sam told herself to cheer up. There was no use dwelling on her loss now. All she could do was rest so she could start training for fight number twelve.


    Yeah, just gotta keep trying. All this work will pay off eventually.


    Pay off¡­ with what? Why am I even doing this?


    At one point, she¡¯d been fighting for herself, to meet Dad¡¯s expectations. Then she¡¯d fought for Will, to keep people from messing with him. But why was she still doing it? Why was she still clinging to it? Why did she keep taking fights she could never win?


    Sam could still not come up with a good answer. She was slowly coming to realize that there was no answer.


    She curled up in bed as soon as she got home despite the fact that it was only mid-afternoon, not bothering to take off her clothes. Before long, the cuts on her cheeks were stinging with salty tears.


    Why did you have to go away, Will?


    You always knew what way to go. What am I supposed to do without you?


    That, at least, she knew the answer to. The only thing she knew how to do. Fight and train. Train and fight. Mechanically. Purposelessly. Until she went to pieces.

 Chapter 5 - Real and Legitimate Employment Opportunity

    Sam


    She was interrupted in her breakfast by a knock on the door. Since she had zero interest in speaking with a salesman or, worse yet, her landlord, Sam simply ignored it and kept on eating. She took another bite of her turkey sandwich and slurped down a few spoonfuls of cereal.


    But the knocking didn¡¯t stop.


    Sam kept ignoring it, and whoever was on the other side accepted the challenge, giving another series of sharp taps every few seconds that became increasingly urgent until the person was pounding on the poor thing.


    Sam gritted her teeth and pretended not to hear it, turned up the TV extra loud in an attempt to drown out the noise. At this point, not answering the door was a matter of personal pride.


    When the knocking finally stopped after two or three minutes following loud complaints from the neighbors living on the other side of the hall¡ªthank god for Gus the alcoholic¡ªSam wiggled deeper into her couch with a smug little grin. She''d won.


    Then the first note was slid under the door.


    Grinding her teeth, Sam leapt up and stormed over there. ¡®OPEN THE DOOR¡¯, the paper read in a shaky, awkward hand, as though penned by a child.


    By the third note, Sam finally broke and ripped the door open. ¡°What?¡± she half-shouted, properly fuming now.


    A woman was standing at the other end of the hall, already writing on another piece of paper pressed against the wall. She let it drop, forgotten, along with her pen as she turned to face Sam with an unpleasant smile. ¡°Ah,¡± she said in a sultry, saccharine voice that reminded Sam of a sleazy pornstar. ¡°Samantha Darling, I take it?¡±


    Sam gave the woman a quick up-and-down look. She was strangely pale, with an almost gray complexion that really didn¡¯t look healthy, although she had to admit that the woman was somehow quite beautiful despite that. And¡­ what was she wearing? The woman had on a garish red blazer with huge puffy shoulders that looked straight out of the 80s, a plaid skirt, along with a pair of thick spectacles that might have looked appropriate on a 70-year-old accountant.


    ¡°Uh¡­?¡± was all Sam could work out, not quite remembering what she had been asked.


    ¡°My name is Nyx,¡± the woman said, and offered out her hand. Her left hand, Sam noted numbly as she shook it. ¡°Might I come inside for a moment, Miss Darling?¡±


    Nyx? What kind of name is that?


    ¡°Sam is fine. I think I¡¯m good, though. Thanks anyway.¡±


    The woman did not move an inch, staring straight at Sam like she was trying to bore holes through her skull. ¡°I am hoping to perform an interview about a possible employment opportunity. It will only take a minute. Might I come inside?¡± She spoke with an odd, lilting accent that Sam could not place.


    Sam frowned, blocking the door like a soldier committed to her last stand, determined to hold the enemy back at any cost. ¡°What kind of employer conducts home interviews? And what job is this about, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just your average gumshoe,¡± Nyx said. She pushed up her spectacles with a dramatic flourish where she stuck out her chest and sent her shiny black hair whirling all at once, like something out of a kitschy shampoo commercial. ¡°My employer has tasked me with conducting background checks and preliminary interviews of select candidates for a special position.¡±


    Gumshoe? Like a private investigator? Who calls it that anymore?


    ¡°Wait, have you been following me?¡± Sam said to the walking fashion disaster as soon as the idea appeared in her mind. Now that she thought about it, with the woman standing right in front of her as reference, she had definitely seen her before. On the bench reading a paper, in the crowd during the fight, maybe even at the bodega once. Had that been her she had sensed back at the graveyard, too?


    ¡°Collecting first-hand field data,¡± Nyx corrected.


    Sam rolled her eyes. ¡°Call it whatever you want¡ªthat doesn¡¯t make it any less weird.¡±


    ¡°Might I come inside?¡± the woman repeated, more insistent this time. ¡°I will not take up too much of your time.¡±


    Was she wearing colored contacts? When her eyes hit the light just so, they almost looked¡­ yellow. That couldn¡¯t be natural, could it?


    ¡°Are you going to keep bothering me if I don¡¯t do this interview thing?¡±


    Nyx¡¯s silent smirk was answer enough.


    Sam backed away from the door with a sigh. ¡°Whatever. You can do your thing while I eat. Just make it quick. Whatever you¡¯re trying to sell me on, I¡¯m really not interested.¡±


    Nyx took a sharp, triumphant intake of breath through her nostrils as she crossed the threshold into the apartment.


    What is it they say about inviting vampires into your house again? Sam thought as she plopped back down on the couch, wincing at a dozen fresh hurts along with the bitter shame they reminded her of. She chuckled to herself. Wouldn¡¯t it be funny if she actually was a vampire?


    ¡°Uh, help yourself to some coffee if you want, I guess,¡± Sam said, waving her sandwich in the general direction of the kitchen before taking a bite. She turned off the TV, figuring this whole thing would be over faster if she pretended to pay attention. ¡°Now, what''s this about exactly?¡±


    Nyx nodded her thanks and wandered into the kitchen, beginning to make herself a cup. ¡°Well, like I said, you are being considered for a very special position.¡±


    ¡°Oookay. And what does ¡®special position¡¯ mean?¡± Having finished off all the cereal flakes, she lifted the bowl to her mouth and gulped down the rest of the sugary sweet milk dregs, letting out a sigh of contentment as she set it back down on the coffee table.


    ¡°Special as in ¡®extraordinary¡¯, ¡®exciting¡¯, ¡®awe-inspiring¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I get that part. I would like a bit more detail than that, if possible.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°It is not.¡±


    Sam blinked, staring flatly ahead at her own reflection on the dead TV screen. Man, she looked like shit. ¡°You¡­ can¡¯t tell me any details about the job you¡¯re interviewing me for?¡±


    Nyx nodded, still banging about in the kitchen. ¡°Correct. I can¡¯t tell you any specifics unless you pass the pre-screening and agree to begin the onboarding process.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t some kind of really elaborate prank, is it?¡±


    ¡°I assure you, Miss Darling, it is not.¡± The clattering of kitchen supplies was becoming more urgent, and Nyx kept throwing strangely concerned glances toward Sam.


    ¡°I told you to call me Sam. It¡¯s¡­¡± Pausing, Sam stood, peering more closely at what the ¡®gumshoe¡¯ was doing, exactly. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn¡¯t coffee, considering that she was holding a glass of regular tap water in one hand and a tub of cocoa powder in the other. ¡°Do you even know how to make instant coffee?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Nyx glared at the mismatched items in her hands, as though her failure was somehow their fault. ¡°No,¡± she finally admitted.


    Sam relegated Nyx to the kitchen table while she cleaned up the mess the madwoman had somehow managed to make, turning on the electric kettle and pouring instant coffee powder into two cups. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude,¡± she said over her shoulder while waiting for the water to boil, ¡°but are you, like, all right? Do you have some kind of problem with your brain?¡±


    ¡°I assure you, Miss...¡± Nyx cleared her throat, fussing with the oversized lapels of her blazer. ¡°Sam. I assure you that my mental faculties are quite acute.¡±


    ¡°Are you sick, then? Again, no offense, but you don¡¯t look so good. Maybe you should get checked out by a doctor or something.¡± Sam was becoming increasingly confident that this woman had broken out of a mental ward and somehow stumbled through a thrift store for the criminally unfashionable.


    ¡°Nothing like that. I am¡­ not from around here.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Deciding that questioning things was not going to get her anywhere, she resolved to hurry this woman through whatever ¡®interview¡¯ she had planned as quickly as possible so she could boot her out the door. When the kettle chirped, she put the two cups down on the table and filled them up. She did not ask if Nyx wanted milk or sugar, and seated herself in the chair opposite the strange, deathly pale woman. ¡°Okay. Since this is an interview, I¡¯m guessing you have questions? Go ahead, then.¡±


    Nyx took a gulp of her coffee, seemingly not bothered by the fact that it was still scalding hot. ¡°Yes. Please answer the following questions truthfully. Feel free to elaborate if you like.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°Question one,¡± Nyx said, reciting from memory. ¡°Would you be interested in working abroad?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ I guess? Maybe? I¡¯m not opposed to it, at least.¡±


    Nyx nodded. ¡°Question two. Would you be open to working around people who might be considered ¡®a danger to society¡¯?¡± she asked, doing air quotes.


    Sam frowned, rubbing at her forehead. ¡°What are we talking about? Like, convicts and stuff?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ I guess it wouldn¡¯t bother me, no.¡± Sam¡¯s gaze followed Nyx¡¯s hands as she raised her cup and took another big swallow. ¡°Do you need to write these answers down or anything?¡± She¡¯d already decided not to question anything, but she just couldn¡¯t help it.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s all right,¡± Nyx replied airily. ¡°Would you be open to working with improving conditions in a third-world country or a near analogue?¡±


    ¡®Near analogue¡¯? What is this crazy bitch going on about? ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± she replied with a shrug. ¡°Why not.¡±


    Nyx nodded, pleased. ¡°Question four. Would you be open to working long-term in a place where you might not be able to contact friends or family?¡±


    ¡°I mean, the only family I have is my dad, and I haven¡¯t seen him in almost a decade, so¡­ Sure?¡±


    ¡°Excellent. Question five. Would you be open to working in hazardous and potentially dangerous environments?¡±


    Sam sighed. Her patience had been trampled to death a long time ago, and her sense of propriety was quickly going with it. ¡°Look, lady. I¡¯m not interested in whatever organ harvesting ring you¡¯re running, so can we skip to the part where you wrap this up and I say ¡®thanks, but no thanks¡¯ so we can both go on with our day?¡±


    Nyx pursed her lips, taking a last thoughtful sip of her coffee and setting down the cup with a final-sounding thunk. ¡°All right, Sam. If that¡¯s how you feel, there is nothing I can do to stop you. Can I just ask you one more question?¡±


    ¡°Will it get you out of my face?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Are you happy with your life?¡±


    Sam flinched, feeling like she¡¯d been punched in the face. No, she¡¯d had punches in the face softer than that. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Are. You. Happy. With. Your. Life?¡±


    Sam was not sure what to say. She began to stammer out something about this woman minding her own business, but trailed off, and eventually fell silent. She stared into the shiny black surface of her untouched coffee, feeling hot steam waft into her face. ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Nyx said. ¡°You can tell me the truth.¡±


    ¡°Why should I tell you anything?¡±


    Nyx shrugged, bringing her padded shoulders up comically high about her ears. ¡°I suppose if you really are happy, then there¡¯s not much reason for you to confide in a complete stranger. But if you feel that something is missing? If you are looking for a chance to reinvent yourself?¡± Another shrug. ¡°Maybe taking a chance is not such a bad thing, if you don¡¯t have anything left to lose to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    Nyx stood, straightening a blazer that did not need straightening. ¡°Very well. I can see that you¡¯re not interested, so I will be taking my leave now. My employer will be very disappointed.¡± She gave a theatrical sigh. ¡°But such is life, I suppose.¡±


    Sam let the woman get halfway to the door. Then, sighing, she called out: ¡°Wait.¡±


    Nyx spun on a stiletto heel that looked more murder weapon than footwear, a fox-like grin on her face. ¡°Could that be curiosity I detect in your voice?¡±


    ¡°I just have one question about this¡­ special opportunity, whatever it is. Maybe two.¡±


    ¡°Please, ask away.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the pay like?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I am certain you will find the compensation more than adequate, both financially and spiritually.¡±


    I guess I should¡¯ve known not to expect an actual answer.


    ¡°Let¡¯s say I agree to start this onboarding process thing. When would I start?¡±


    ¡°Today. Immediately.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s pretty fast.¡±


    ¡°My employer does not believe in wasting time.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you might be able to tell me who this mysterious employer is, exactly?¡±


    ¡°He has specifically requested to remain anonymous. Don¡¯t worry¡ªyou will meet him in person soon enough.¡±


    Sam blew out her cheeks. She gave her bare apartment a look, thinking about what she would be giving up. Nothing came to mind. ¡°Fuck it, why not?¡± she said at last, half as a joke. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. Go ahead and ship me off to whatever back-alley clinic you¡¯re going to carve me up at.¡±


    At the very least, she figured, it probably wouldn¡¯t be boring.


    Nyx buzzed with excitement. ¡°Fuck it indeed! A woman after my own heart, I see.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Sam watched the woman edge closer to the table, fumbling with something in her jacket pocket. ¡°So, what happens now? Do you have a car outside or whatever?¡±


    ¡°I will be taking you somewhere,¡± Nyx said, speaking slowly and deliberately, like the tone one might use to soothe a skittish animal. ¡°Just relax and let me take care of everything. This will not hurt very much at all.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but¡­ What?¡±


    There was a flash of steel as Nyx stepped up beside her. Staring at the bloody knife in the woman¡¯s hand, it took Sam several moments before she even began fumbling at the line of pain she felt across her throat, fresher than all of yesterday¡¯s wounds.


    Her hands came away wet. Looking down, she found them smeared red. More tumbled down the front of her, the entire front of her shirt quickly becoming saturated with blood.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Sam said. At least, that was what she tried to say, except only a wet gurgle came out.


    She began trying to suppress the fountain of blood gushing out of her, but it squirted between her fingers, and she suddenly found herself all thumbs, unable to make herself move the way she wanted to.


    She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    Nyx firmly guided Sam¡¯s hands back down at her sides, one at a time, while whispering in her ear and stroking her hair. ¡°Shush now, Samantha. It¡¯s all right. Don¡¯t worry. Everything will be over soon.¡± Suddenly, there was an envelope in front of her face, held carefully clear of the weakening spurts of blood. ¡°This letter is written by my employer,¡± Nyx explained. ¡°It will tell you everything you need to know.¡± She stuffed it into Sam¡¯s right pants pocket and gave it a satisfied pat. ¡°Please read it as soon as you get the chance.¡±


    Sam wanted to laugh, but found that she could not. She was drowning. Fading. Everything was going all funny and blurry. As her head tipped down onto the tabletop, she could only produce a single coherent thought.


    The woman had told the truth.


    It really did not hurt very much at all.

 Chapter 6 - Absolutely, Verifiably, Most Definitely Not in Kansas Anymore

    Sam


    Sam found herself standing at a crossroads. It was surrounded on all sides by impenetrable pine forest. A bruising purple twilight reigned overhead; moonless and starless. Feeling at her neck, she found no gaping wound there, and there was not a speck of blood on her clothing. In fact, even her wounds from the fight with Luke were nowhere in evidence, her skin unblemished and pain-free.


    The air was neither warm nor cold, completely still and windless as though the place were holding its breath. An oppressive silence hung thick over everything, with not so much as the creak of a tree settling to break it. Aside from herself and the uniform conifers standing in perfect, wall-like formation, there were no signs of life.


    Sam felt that she should be scared, or worried, or angry, or something. But the level of absurdity had risen to such a degree that her brain had abandoned any effort to keep up, leaving her completely numb except for, of all things, a vague feeling of amusement.


    This was just a really weird fever dream, after all. That was all it was. Luke must have hit her harder than she thought. Maybe she ought to take that trip to the clinic after all, once she woke up.


    Remembering the letter she had been given, Sam searched her pockets and produced the slightly crushed envelope. There was no writing on the front, so she simply tore it open and extracted its contents, which turned out to be two small pieces of paper covered in neat writing.


    The first one read:


    Sam,


    If you¡¯re reading this, that means you¡¯re dead. Sorry, I had to say it. I bet you¡¯re feeling pretty confused right now, but don¡¯t worry, everything will be explained soon enough. Right now, whatever happens, just go along with it.


    If you can, try to find Nyx. She¡¯ll take you where you need to go.


    When you get to the Tower (you¡¯ll know it when you see it), sign the contract you¡¯re given, then read the second note. After you¡¯ve read the second note, eat it.


    When prompted, choose Laborer. Allocate your abilities and attributes however you want (hopefully you don¡¯t pick anything too stupid), except you must only pick passive abilities when given the option. I repeat, ONLY pick PASSIVE abilities.


    Whatever the Tower custodian tells you, don¡¯t listen. He¡¯s full of shit.


    That¡¯s it. See you soon.


    -A Friend.


    PS: You will need to take a leap of faith. Enjoy the way down.


    Sam read the note once, then more carefully a second time, still not quite able to absorb all the strange instructions detailed there. Looking at the second note only added to her confusion, as all the text was written in some strange language she neither understood nor recognized.


    Wait, she thought, returning to the first note with a deepening frown. It wants me to eat the second note when I¡¯m done with it? How the fuck would that ever make sense? And how am I supposed to read it in the first place when I don¡¯t know the language it¡¯s written in?


    Trying to parse everything was making her head hurt. But the letter had told her to go with the flow, and with nothing else to guide her, she figured it was best to do what it said¡ªat least what small part of it she could make sense of.


    Sam tucked the letters back in the envelope. She looked around, saw nothing except trees and dirt paths, three of them branching off from the spot where she stood. Picking one at random, she began to walk.


    From what the letter said, it sounds like I¡¯ll get somewhere sooner or later. I guess I¡¯m looking for a tower?


    Dreams usually did not involve this much legwork.


    After a few minutes of walking, she hit another crossroads much like the first, except this one had four branches, including the one she came from. There were several wooden road signs scattered about, but one of them pointed straight up into the air, a second into the woods, and a third had only gibberish on it like what she had seen in the second letter.


    Sighing, Sam picked the middle path and kept going.


    One crossroads was replaced by another, and another, and another. The sky retained that exact shade of unattractive purple-brown, giving her nothing to track the passing of time with. It had to be hours since she started out.


    The only sign that she was making any progress at all was the pines gradually being replaced by oak trees, and the path widening, becoming paved with square-cut gray stone. More road signs appeared here and there, but after she found that they were all written in one of several nonsense languages like the first one she¡¯d seen, she began to ignore them entirely.


    Upon seeing a figure in the distance at the next fork in the road, she quickened her pace until she was half-running. As she got closer, she was both relieved and annoyed to find Nyx standing there; hands on hips, wearing a self-satisfied grin. Still wearing that god-awful blazer, though she had changed out her stilettos for some more travel-sensible boots somewhere. Not that they did anything to complement her disastrous outfit.


    ¡°I found youuu,¡± Nyx said in a singsong voice. ¡°I was starting to think I¡¯d lost you for good. That would have been slightly embarrassing.¡±


    ¡°You murdered me,¡± Sam replied flatly, keeping a healthy distance between herself and the strange woman.


    ¡°And it was truly an honor.¡± Nyx gave a mocking curtsy and an even more mocking smile. In a more serious tone, she added: ¡°It¡¯s the only way to get where you¡¯re going.¡±


    ¡°And where is that, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Did you read the letter?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. The first half mentioned some kind of tower. The second half was just gibberish.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about not being able to read the second part for now. It¡¯ll all make sense eventually.¡±


    ¡°The note said that too. I¡¯m not so sure I believe it.¡±


    Nyx shrugged, pursing her lips in a way that seemed to say she thought Sam was being unreasonable. ¡°Anyway, as for the tower you mentioned, it¡¯s known as the Tower at the End of Time. It lies at the end of one of these paths.¡± She motioned around her at all the different directions available to them. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing I found you, because it would be almost impossible for you to find the right way on your own.¡±


    ¡°What would happen if I picked the wrong one?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing all that bad, for you at least. Well, probably. All these paths lead to what humans would consider ¡®afterlives¡¯. Some of them are quite pleasant, or so I hear.¡± Nyx¡¯s smile dropped away, her face going unnervingly slack. ¡°Some aren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And this¡­ Tower? It¡¯s one of those afterlives?¡±


    ¡°Oh, dear me, no. The Tower is the entrance. The actual place is known as the Frontier.¡± Nyx spent a moment deliberating, then picked a path on the left and started moving, waving Sam along. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s walk and talk. We¡¯ve got a ways ahead of us. We¡¯ll have to do some backtracking since you started along the wrong path.¡±


    ¡°Okay. So shouldn¡¯t we go back the way I came, then? Trace it to where I started?¡±


    Nyx snorted derisively and hit Sam with a sidelong glance. ¡°Just leave this to the professionals, dear.¡± As they walked on, oaks replaced by poplars and birches, she added: ¡°Point being, if you ended up anyplace other than the Frontier, there would be no going back, and you would never get to meet with my employer, which is sort of the whole point of this, so.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°You¡¯re not human, are you?¡± Sam asked abruptly.


    Nyx chuckled. ¡°Oh? And what do you think I am?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ A vampire or something? Or an evil spirit?¡±


    ¡°Your second guess is not too far off. I¡¯m a demon. At least, that is the name your kind has given mine.¡±


    Sam stopped in the road. ¡°Wait, seriously?¡±


    Nyx went on for a few moments before following suit, turning back with her arms folded beneath her breasts. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly serious. Is that really the part of this you¡¯re having the most trouble with?¡±


    Sam reluctantly started moving again. ¡°I guess it doesn¡¯t matter at this point.¡± That doesn¡¯t mean I have to like trusting a literal demon to be my guide.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my employer is quite human, and he has your best interests at heart, bless the poor dear.¡±


    ¡°The letter said he was a friend.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it would, at that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a lot of those.¡±


    ¡°Aw, that¡¯s too bad.¡±


    ¡°Shut up. Are you going to tell me who organized this whole thing already?¡±


    Nyx wagged an admonishing finger. ¡°Nope. My lips are sealed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Will, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sam blurted out. If she was already dreaming, why not dream big? Besides, out of everyone she had ever known, Will was the only one who would ever come up with anything half this convoluted, let alone actually do it.


    The demon¡¯s face fell a bit. ¡°Way to ruin the surprise.¡±


    ¡°So it is him?¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm. No point denying it now. Of course, you¡¯ll still have to act suitably dazzled and amazed when you actually meet him.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Sam said numbly. Despite the fact that she had arrived at that conclusion herself, she couldn¡¯t quite believe that Will was somewhere out there, waiting for her. As she thought about it, though, she found herself frowning, feeling a twinge of annoyance. ¡°Hold on. If Will is behind all this, why didn¡¯t he just say so? I would have come running straight away.¡±


    ¡°Something boring about not wanting to influence your decisions and bla bla bla. I wasn¡¯t really listening. He certainly knows how to drone on, that boy.¡±


    Sam¡¯s negativity was drowned in a sea of fondness at the memory of him. ¡°Yeah, he really does. And once he gets going, anything you say goes right past him.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Quite tiring.¡±


    ¡°Infuriating.¡±


    ¡°Men.¡±


    ¡°Men,¡± Sam agreed, though it came out sounding a bit more dreamy than she had intended.


    They kept walking. More crossroads. The path changed again, becoming a smooth mail of what looked to be huge green fish scales. She had to be careful when she walked on them, lest she trip herself up on the edges. Every so often, Nyx would stop to read one or several road signs before picking a direction. Evidently, she had no trouble reading the nonsense words. Maybe it was a demon language.


    ¡°This Frontier place,¡± Sam said as they continued on, ¡°I assume it¡¯s a nice afterlife, then?¡±


    Nyx quirked an eyebrow. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°I mean, if Will¡¯s there, then¡­¡±


    The demon laughed. ¡°You have a lot of faith in your little friend, it seems. Actually, you might describe the Frontier as more hell than heaven at this point. Unless you¡¯re someone like me, in which case it¡¯s the perfect playground.¡±


    Sam frowned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound right. Will is a good person. He wouldn¡¯t get sent to a place like that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t know him well enough, then. The Forlorn Frontier is a world created by the goddess Era to serve as a place of redemption and rehabilitation for humans who have led particularly criminal or immoral lives. A second chance, you could say.


    ¡°As a nice way of helping these people adjust to living proper, peaceful lives, the goddess introduced something known as the Concord¡ªan autonomous system that presides over the whole Frontier, bestowing certain supernatural abilities upon every mortal who comes there. These gifts are exclusively designed for peace. To promote productivity and happiness. All perfectly harmless.¡± Nyx grinned. ¡°What do you think happened next?¡±


    Sam gave a half-shrug, jumping over a green road tile that jutted dangerously straight up. ¡°Dunno. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Well, you humans are deliciously shrewd things. Busy little bees, too. Give a world full of convicts each a soft pillow made with love and kisses under a perfect rainbow, and it doesn¡¯t take them very long to figure out how to smother each other with them.


    ¡°Which is exactly what happened. One human¡ªdon¡¯t ask me how, because I have no idea¡ªmurdered the goddess. Crow, they called that one. The Frontier fell into chaos, every man killing his neighbor in a brutal bid for power and resources, twisting the Concord against its intended purpose to forge themselves into deadly tools of war. Well, that happened some years ago, and things have mostly stabilized since. The goddess¡¯s angels all fled into exile, or killed themselves out of grief, or retreated to plot their revenge against humanity, or met with one of a dozen other fates depending on who you ask. Unambiguous, however, is the fact that my kind are the ones who stepped in to take their place. The angel who used to man the Tower was replaced by a demon named Unger who is only concerned with his own personal amusement, often at the expense of the poor mortals who must pass through his domain to reach the Frontier.¡±


    Nyx threw her arms wide. She spun in lazy pirouettes while somehow nimbly stepping along the scaled roadway without snagging on anything. ¡°Sounds wonderful, doesn¡¯t it? So much violence. So much depravity. So much opportunity.¡± The demon let out an almost orgasmic sigh.


    Sam licked her lips. ¡°Uh, sure.¡± It sounded terrifying. ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s where Will is?¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm. Oh, don¡¯t look so put out. The Frontier might not be the endless field of daisies that every human girl dreams they¡¯ll go to when they die, but your William has paid dearly to get you there. He seems to be on some sort of one-man crusade to turn the place into something better¡ªpointless if you ask me, since it¡¯s already perfect, but to each their own¡ªand he thinks you¡¯re absolutely imperative to that endeavor. So how about you try on some gratitude for size? It might suit you.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± Sam grunted, suppressing the hysterical urge to laugh. She didn¡¯t have a clue what to think about any of this. It was probably best not to give it too much thought.


    Just a dream, remember. It¡¯s aaall a dream.


    But man, I never knew my imagination was this good.


    ¡°Well, here we are.¡±


    Sam looked up, and started as she found a giant vertical bar of white blocking most of her sightline. Taking a few steps back and craning her neck, she found a pearly tower rising as far as the eye could see, disappearing into the churning purple clouds high above. Lacking any seams or windows, it was a perfect, unbroken pillar whose very existence seemed to defy its dreary surroundings, a slash of utter purity brightening the land''s dark and muddy palette.


    Letting her gaze trail back down again, she found that the tower had only a single break in its perfection; a wooden door of rough-grain boards with a rounded top, adorned by a brass door knob that shone as though fresh-made.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see it on the horizon,¡± Sam said breathlessly.


    ¡°Yes, it does sort of creep up on you, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Nyx chuckled. She made no move to approach the tower. ¡°This is where you and I part ways for now, Samantha. I cannot enter the Tower¡ªat least, I can¡¯t return to the Frontier that way. I have my own back entrance.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± Sam found herself suddenly apprehensive to leave her guide behind, however badly she despised her company. She went all the way up to the door and put her hand on the knob before looking back. ¡°Thanks for everything, I guess. It seems like you¡¯re on Will¡¯s side, so I can¡¯t hate you or anything. Still don¡¯t appreciate getting murdered so much, though.¡±


    ¡°Your affection warms my heart,¡± Nyx said, a hand to her chest and sticking her lower lip out in a simpering pout. ¡°Now go, before I start tearing up!¡±


    Sam snorted and turned back to her task. She pulled open the door on well-oiled hinges, revealing a field of brilliant light through which nothing could be seen. Before doubt could root her to the ground, she stepped through.


    The light passed over her like a warm membrane; blinding, yet somehow comforting. She poked through the other side, and found herself¡­


    At the top of the tower?


    She was clearly very, very high up, with no walls or roof to obscure the dizzying bird¡¯s eye view. A sea of billowing clouds spread out around her and went on forever. They were cottony white, tinged golden by a kindly sun. She stood on a round floor of white marble shot through with rose-colored veins, low crenellations marking its edges some twenty feet off in every direction to prevent an unwary stepper from tumbling right off into the clouds. When she glanced back, she found that there was no door behind her, nor any indication of a way to get down.


    Though it had been twilight while she was on the ground, now the sun shone almost directly down on her, leaving her shadow a formless black blob at her feet.


    The far end of the floor was taken up by a lone apple tree sprouting from a handful of displaced tiles, standing somewhat to her left. The tree leaned over a large desk of dark wood, its sheltering branches offering shade.


    The desk was so large and imposing that Sam did not realize it had an occupant until he spoke.


    ¡°Did you know,¡± the unseen man¡ªthe demon Unger, presumably?¡ªsaid in a soft, droning voice, ¡°that this tree has fifty-two apples and thirteen-thousand-two-hundred-forty-three leaves? I¡¯ve counted, you know.¡±


    As Sam walked closer, she could hear the telltale hiss and whir of hydraulics, and the demon soon rose into view over the desk on what Sam could only categorize as a regal-looking office chair, upholstered in rich velvet. His legs were thrown lazily over one armrest while he gazed wistfully up at the apple tree, whose green leaves shivered on a light breeze. One leaf detached from its branch and floated away. Unger¡¯s eyes tracked its movements as it passed overhead, then spiraled abruptly over the edge of the tower, snatched off into eternity. ¡°Thirteen-thousand-two-hundred-forty-two leaves.¡±


    Unger had the same pallid complexion as Nyx, except his skin had more of a greenish undertone. He was bald as a marble, but made up for it with extremely long eyebrows that arched away from his head and ended in wickedly sharp black points. He wore a black suit with the jacket hanging over the backrest of his chair and a blood-red tie that he¡¯d loosened and let drape limply down over one shoulder.


    ¡°Well?¡± Unger asked without looking in her direction. ¡°What do you think about that?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°It must have taken a long time to count them all, I guess.¡±


    Unger let out a long, deep sigh, like a balloon deflating. ¡°Quite the conversationalist, aren¡¯t you? Well, whatever. Come over here and sign the damn contract so we can both get on with our respective days. Before you ask¡ªyes, you have to sign the contract. No, you cannot bring any pets or possessions with you. No, I will not sit and explain every little thing to you. Sign the contract, pick your shit, and move along. I''ve got quotas to meet.¡±


    Sam rubbed the back of her neck as she approached the desk. Well, this guy sure lives up to his reputation. And he thinks I¡¯m bad company.

 Chapter 7 - Laboring Under the Pleasant Delusion of Free Will

    Sam


    Unger rooted through the endless number of drawers in his huge desk. He grumbled as he pitched his mechanized chair up and down to reach one drawer or another, before finally producing a large clipboard with a triumphant hum. He slid it across the desktop to her side so it teetered on the edge, threatening to fall. Sam reached up to take it, dislodging a thick ballpoint pen affixed to the top of the wooden board.


    ¡°Sign,¡± Unger said curtly, his attention already drifting elsewhere. ¡°Your full legal name, please¡ªit will be saved as a matter of record.¡±


    Sam looked down at the thick stack of papers pinned to the clipboard, skimming the first page and glancing at a few of the others. At least it was in English. It looked like a contract all right. Written in dense legalese, it was filled with strange and seemingly nonsensical clauses she did not even bother to try and make sense of. The first page had a dotted line to sign her name on.


    ¡°Once you¡¯ve signed the contract, you will have forged an accord with the goddess Era, and be granted access to the Concord system,¡± Unger droned on in a bored voice.


    Sam hesitated. Will¡¯s letter had told her to sign the contract, but she couldn¡¯t help feeling a bit apprehensive. Despite the fact that most of the text made no sense to her, there were a few worrying clauses in there, such as one stating: ¡®All the signee¡¯s spiritual worship/devotion/expression, regardless of whether it is targeted at another deity/entity/religious figure, will be redirected to the goddess Era in perpetuity.¡¯ Sam had never been particularly religious, but something about that sounded sinister.


    Sam opened her mouth to speak, but Unger beat her to the punch. ¡°No questions,¡± he said firmly, playing with one of his spiky eyebrows. ¡°Shit or get off the pot. If you don¡¯t want to sign, I can send you back the way you came.¡±


    Sam¡¯s mouth went into a tight line, but she held her peace. Reminding herself that Will thought it was okay, she scribbled ¡®Samantha Darling¡¯ on the dotted line. Flipping through the countless sheets below, she found nothing else that needed her signature. ¡°All right, what¡ª¡±


    A harsh light flared in front of her eyes, leaving her vision white and throbbing. When she was finally able to blink away the blurry smears, she found that she was on her hands and knees, the clipboard lying discarded a few feet off to her right.


    What¡­ was that? she thought, dazed.


    ¡°Congratulations on gaining access to the Concord system, yadda yadda yadda,¡± Unger¡¯s voice drifted down from above her. ¡°Feel free to get up any day now, so we can continue with the second part of the orientation process.¡±


    Sam retrieved the clipboard as she staggered to her feet. Her vision had mostly returned to normal, with only a thin field of distorted color at the edges, but the text still looked¡­ odd, somehow. The letters didn¡¯t look right to her, almost illegible, even though she had been reading it fine just seconds ago. She had to focus intently to be able to make out more than a word or two.


    ¡°A certain level of disorientation is a normal side-effect of Concord integration,¡± Unger informed, sighing. ¡°Give me that back, please, so we can move on.¡±


    Sam threw the clipboard back up onto the high desktop with a sharp smack, but took a few steps back when the demon tried to hand her something else. ¡°Hold on,¡± she said as she began digging through her pocket, remembering what she had been instructed regarding the second note.


    This time, when she looked at the first note, it appeared much as the text on the clipboard did; a block of jumbled, barely recognizable symbols. Meanwhile, the second note was perfectly legible, as though she had been reading it her whole life, even though she knew deep down that it wasn¡¯t English, nor any other language she was familiar with.


    This text, much shorter than the first, read:


    I, Samantha Darling, hereby vow that I shall never make use of a Concord-granted ¡®skill¡¯ ability for as long as I live.


    In return, I ask to receive twice the number of Concord-granted ¡®attribute points¡¯ whenever they are given to me for any reason.


    And so our accord is made.


    Sam frowned at the note, compulsively checking the blank backside of the paper slip several times to make sure there was nothing else on there.


    She wasn¡¯t sure what she¡¯d been expecting, but if she was hoping for answers, she was sorely disappointed.


    Unger, however, seemed to recognize the thing she was holding, pistoning his chair as high as it would go in fits and starts until he towered high above the desk. He craned his neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of the text. ¡°What is that?¡± he demanded. ¡°What is that thing you¡¯re holding? Tell me immediately.¡±


    Sam took another few steps back¡ªglancing over her shoulder to make sure she didn¡¯t accidentally walk off the edge of the tower into thin air¡ªand held the note tight to her chest. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s private.¡± I think.


    ¡°What does it say?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s any of your business. Now if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯m going to eat this piece of paper.¡± Without waiting another moment, Sam balled up the second note and popped it in her mouth.


    ¡°You!¡± the demon cried, the languor gone from his expression and replaced by wild-eyed excitement. ¡°You¡¯re the one I¡¯ve been waiting for! The special case!¡±


    Sam could not reply with her mouth was full of mulchy, wet cellulose. She chewed until her jaws hurt, then swallowed the sodden mouthful piecemeal, a taste of old broadsheet left on her tongue.


    She was hit with a second flash, smaller than the first. It sent her stumbling, but she managed to stay on her feet by catching herself against the desk. Something formed in her mind, a thought that was not her own. It coalesced into a string of words, or a series of images, or a whispered voice, or maybe all three at once, coming together to form a single unit of meaning.


    [Divine vow accepted.]


    ¡°Samantha Darling, yes, I remember now,¡± Unger prattled on, nodding to himself. He was sitting upright now, leaning forward with his hands on the desk. For the first time, his full attention was on Sam. ¡°I mean, I knew it couldn¡¯t just have been idle talk considering that Nyx made those deferred contracts with me, but I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d actually show up.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Sam managed a shaky smile. ¡°I guess you can think of me as a happy surprise.¡±


    ¡°You must allow me to help you with your build selection.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll consider it,¡± she lied. ¡°What do I do now?¡±


    Unger slid another clipboard in her direction, not taking his burning amber eyes off her for a moment. ¡°What vow did you make, exactly? What did you get in return?¡±


    Ignoring him, Sam looked over the new clipboard. The sheet pinned to it was written in the same strange language that was somehow perfectly familiar now.


    Please select one of the following Professions to serve as your role on Faerlon. The Concord representative responsible for your orientation will be happy to elaborate on the Profession features and answer any questions you may have.


    Artisan


    Builder


    Cook


    Entertainer


    Explorer


    Farmer


    Laborer


    Physician


    Scholar


    Trader


    NOTE: Any selections made through the Concord are permanent, and cannot be altered.


    Sam scanned over the list a few times. The only actually exciting one was Explorer, but the letter had told her to choose Laborer, even though that looked like maybe the most boring option. The thought of spending her afterlife as a menial worker did not appeal.


    But then, Nyx had said that this system, the Concord or whatever, was no longer used for its intended purpose. Maybe the name of the Profession didn¡¯t mean all that much in reality.


    Sam glanced up at the demon, who met her look with an enraptured stare of his own. She resisted the urge to ask him about any of this. If Will said he was full of shit, he was full of shit.


    With a shrug, Sam circled ¡®Laborer¡¯ on the sheet with the pen provided. Again, her mind formed foreign impressions.


    [Profession selected: Laborer.]


    The letters on the sheet began to shimmer and shift, rearranging themselves. In moments, a whole new text presented itself.


    Please allocate your 1st level attribute points as you wish among any of your available attribute scores.


    Available points: (10)


    Strength: (_)


    Toughness: (_)


    Dexterity: (_)


    Senses: (_)


    With a brief glow, the ¡®10¡¯ next to ¡®Available points¡¯ became a ¡®20¡¯. Presumably as a result of this vow she had apparently made, since it had mentioned something about doubling her attribute points. She wasn¡¯t sure if twenty was a lot or a little, but she liked the look of her options a bit better this time around. Humming to herself, she spent a minute spreading out her points based on what sounded good off the top of her head. Whenever she put a number down in one of the empty fields, the scribbled symbol would straighten out and darken in color until it looked machine-typed. The ¡®Available points¡¯ number automatically went down, until at last it was at ¡®0¡¯. Sam held the clipboard at arm¡¯s length, examining her work.


    Please allocate your 1st level attribute points as you wish among any of your available attribute scores.


    Available points: (0)


    Strength: (8)


    Toughness: (6)


    Dexterity: (6)


    Senses: (_)


    [Attribute changes accepted.]


    Unger finally got a glimpse over the edge of the clipboard just before the text began to change again, and he launched into a fit of neurotic giggling. ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s what your vow is! Clever¡ªvery clever.¡± He sounded impressed, looking at Sam as though she had risen in his estimation from insignificant ant to something approaching a fellow sentient being.


    Not like I thought up any of this stuff myself, though.


    This time, the sheet had taken on the appearance of an ¡®Abilities¡¯ section, showing her a list of potential options.


    Please spend (2) upgrade points on any of the following abilities that are available to you.


    NOTE: You can spend more than 1 upgrade point on a single ability. Ask your Concord representative for more information.


    ¡°Please allow me to give you some salient advice on choosing your abilities,¡± Unger said, dry-washing his hands. ¡°After guiding countless millions of mortals, I am somewhat of an expert on the subject.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good, thanks,¡± Sam replied, in as neutral a tone as her rising annoyance would allow.


    The list of abilities was rather long, taking up several sheets. Some were listed as ¡®skills¡¯, while others were listed as ¡®passives¡¯. They were separated across three tiers, with all but the Tier 3 abilities grayed out and unavailable to her. The letter had told her only to choose passives, which finally made some sort of sense given her vow not to use any skills granted by the Concord. With that in mind, Sam picked out two passive abilities that sounded appealing, even though their short descriptions did not give her much to go off of.


    Stoneskin (_)


    Tier: 3.


    Requirements: Laborer.


    Type: Hybrid (Constant/Polymorphic).


    Description: Your skin becomes harder, making it more difficult to pierce or penetrate. Ideal for working in adverse conditions to mitigate risk of injury.


    Tenacious (_)


    Tier: 3.


    Requirements: Laborer.


    Type: Constant.


    Description: It is much more difficult for you to be rendered unconscious against your will. Ideal for working in adverse conditions where access to aid is sporadic or unavailable, allowing the user to see themselves to safety in case of injury.


    It also appeared that she got another passive for free by selecting Laborer¡ªsomething called Healing Factor.


    Healing Factor (1)


    Tier: 3.


    Requirements: Laborer.


    Type: Constant.


    Description: Your body¡¯s natural self-healing mechanism is accelerated, allowing you to recover more quickly from various injuries. Ideal for all types of heavy labor where the injury risk is high.


    That did look quite appealing.


    Sam put one upgrade point each into Stoneskin and Tenacious, leaving her with zero unallocated points remaining.


    [Ability selection accepted.]


    The text on the clipboard changed once more, seemingly for the final time.


    The following is a summary of your selection.


    Name: Samantha Darling.


    Level: 1.


    Profession: Laborer.


    Attributes: Strength (8), Toughness (6), Dexterity (6), Senses (0).


    Abilities: Healing Factor, Stoneskin, Tenacious.


    Please enjoy your new life on Faerlon, [Samantha Darling]!

 Chapter 8 - Laboring Under the Pleasant Illusion of Free Will [2]

    Sam


    ¡°Finished already?¡± Unger pouted. ¡°You¡¯re really not a very good sport.¡±


    ¡°I thought you couldn¡¯t wait for me to get out of here,¡± Sam said.


    The demon waved away her retort. ¡°That was before I learned you were someone interesting. Now, since you insisted on butchering your build without my input, at least allow me to give you some general advice that will undoubtedly serve you well in the Forlorn Frontier. You¡ª¡±


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯d like to get on with my day, if possible,¡± Sam cut in, flashing her nastiest grin. ¡°Lots to do¡ªyou know how it is.¡±


    Unger¡¯s gray-green face tightened with fury. ¡°Fine,¡± he said in a curt, clipped tone. ¡°Step right over here, and we will get you on your way.¡±


    Rolling his towering contraption of a chair to the side, he motioned to the far end of the circular floorspace. As Sam rounded the desk, she saw that there was something like a short springboard of polished stone jutting out from a gap in the toothy crenellations.


    ¡°You''re expecting me to jump?¡± Sam asked, cautiously approaching the suspended stone slab and eyeing the sea of clouds laid out below it.


    It was Unger¡¯s turn to give a nasty smile. ¡°That is the way, yes.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s not a second door I could go through or anything?¡±


    ¡°Afraid not.¡±


    Sam¡¯s steps grew shorter and more hesitant as she approached the springboard, until she was inching along, shuffling on the marble. She had never been particularly afraid of heights, but when she thought about the thousands of feet that no doubt separated her from the ground, it made her stomach lurch. ¡°And what if I can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure we will figure something out,¡± Unger hummed soothingly.


    Sam glanced back, finding that the demon had jumped out of his lowered chair and was standing disconcertingly close behind her, as if angling for an opportunity to punt her over the edge.


    Rather than face that alternative, Sam quickly scampered out onto the springboard, the hairs on her arms spiking with every step. There was no sign of land through the cottony clouds that now took up her entire field of vision, but she still felt a surge of vertigo knotting her guts, everything seeming to sway even though she stood frozen stiff. The tips of her toes nudged just over the end, gripping for purchase.


    The note did tell me to take a leap of faith, I suppose.


    Before the rational part of Sam¡¯s brain could begin to convince her of the absurdity of this plan, she plunged a foot over the edge of the tower. The moment she began falling she wished she could take it back, but it was too late now. The wind roared in her ears, ripped at her clothing, dried out her eyes.


    She was tumbling, everything spinning, her stomach rebelling. She belly-flopped straight into a cloud bank, and the world became a field of uniform gray, moisture beading on her cheeks and sticking to her clothing.


    Her scream was torn away on the howling wind.


    * * *


    Sam must have passed out at some point, because when she came to she was face down with a mouth full of sand. Spitting and coughing, shivering with wet and cold, she dragged herself onto her hands and knees, requiring several tries to manage it, and immediately found that she was buck naked.


    She sat hunched over on a rocky beach beneath an overcast sky, waves smacking her butt every few moments none-too-politely. Cursing under her breath, Sam dragged herself higher onto the beach, out of the reach of the choppy ocean that lay behind her. Overhead, there were disappointed cries from a pack of seagulls that had hoped for a nice fat carcass to pick apart, occasionally drowned by the crashing swell of waves on the jagged black cliffs that jutted out of the earth to her left. Maybe a hundred feet ahead, the beach was broken by a dense treeline that stretched on as far as she could see to her right.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Frozen so deep she felt she would shatter into little icy shards if someone took a mallet to her, Sam wanted nothing more than to find a safe nook somewhere, out of the wind and the wet, where she could catch her breath. Unfortunately, she wasn¡¯t even sure she could stand up, let alone find herself a suitable resting spot. If she allowed herself to collapse where she was, she was pretty sure she would die of exposure. Even though she knew that, a piece of her hypothermia-addled mind thought it seemed like an excellent idea to simply sprawl out and close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Just to get some strength back.


    Don¡¯t worry, Sam thought, trying and failing to stop her teeth from chattering. This is part of the plan, right? Will has a plan, doesn¡¯t he? And I mean, this is a dream, so what does it matter anyway?


    Except¡­ If it¡¯s all a dream, why am I so afraid to fall asleep?


    Because when you fall asleep in a dream, you wake up.


    I don¡¯t want to wake up yet. Not before I see him.


    I just want to see him.


    Finding a surge of strength somewhere deep inside, Sam tipped herself back onto her haunches, hissing breaths through gritted teeth, then got a foot beneath her. She stood on wobbly legs, took a step, and fell as her knees buckled. She spent the next minute recreating her first miraculous success, tried a few tottering steps, and when her legs held she began a laborious trudge along the beach.


    Nestled beneath the shoulder of the nearby cliffs, she noticed a manmade structure¡ªa tall wooden watchtower that overlooked the beach¡ªand some little black dots moving beneath it. Were those people? They were moving away from her, going toward a gap between two sharp dagger-points of rock that presumably led to a path along the left side of the coast, separated from Sam¡¯s view by the cliffs. If they went much further, they would not be able to see her anymore.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Sam cried, nearly falling when she raised her arms over her head to wave them down, teetering until she caught her balance again. She coughed at the bits of sand that had somehow made their way down her throat, and spat out a grainy gob of saliva. ¡°Hey! Over here!¡±


    Sam was worried that they would not hear her with the sound of the ocean, but they seemed to be turning around, and she let herself fall back on her butt with relief when she saw the little dots growing steadily larger, becoming recognizable as definitely human.


    Sam held herself tight, shivering, and waited for them to reach her. They were four men, dressed in padded coats, each with a cudgel on one hip and a round buckler on the other.


    ¡°I¡¯m r-r-really glad to see you,¡± Sam worked out through numb, uncooperative lips. ¡°Could you¡­ Could you g-get me someplace warm? Clothes? Anything?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a Laborer, Tinny,¡± one of the men whispered to another, sounding pleased. ¡°We¡¯ll be getting paid big for this one.¡±


    Sam¡¯s relief quickly evaporated as she glanced between four hardened faces, and finally noticed the heavy shackles that the man at the back was working on untangling.


    ¡°If you want clothes and chow, stand up and come with us,¡± a flat-nosed man¡ªTinny, his friend had called him¡ªsaid. ¡°You make it easy for us, you get to walk on your own. You decide to be difficult, you get the chains. You make trouble after that, well¡­¡± He patted the weapon at his belt. ¡°We got ways of teaching a girl some manners.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Sam sighed, the last of her hope escaping with a flaccid outrushing of air. ¡°You¡­ You guys aren¡¯t here to help, are you?¡±


    Tinny¡¯s friend shrugged. ¡°Sorry, darling. Life sucks¡ªyou can whine about it on your own time.¡±


    He bent down to grab Sam by the shoulder. Instinctively, she caught his forearm in an effort to divert him, fingers clamping down with strength fueled by desperation.


    Sam blinked as she both heard and felt several sharp pops. Tinny¡¯s friend cried out in agony and recoiled as though from a venomous snake, his awkwardly bent right arm clutched protectively with his left. ¡°Fuck!¡± he shrieked, backing off behind the other men. ¡°She just broke my arm!¡±


    Tinny frowned at his friend, then back at Sam. ¡°Crazy bitch must¡¯ve put all her points in Strength,¡± he muttered. ¡°Right¡ªDalton, Spuds, take care of her.¡± He motioned to each of the remaining two other men in turn.


    A lumpy-faced man¡ªSpuds¡ªstepped forward with a sigh. Holding up a hand, he said: ¡°Peace.¡±


    For some reason, that word held power, reverberated unnaturally in the air between them.


    When Dalton moved in to clamp manacles down on Sam¡¯s wrists and a collar around her neck, she found that she was unable to lift a hand to resist. Whenever she tried to punch or kick or shove, the idea seemed to slide away like rain off a tarp.


    By the time this strange lapse wore off a few seconds later, she had been dragged to her feet by her chains, and was forced to stagger along behind as the men trudged off toward their watchtower.


    Will¡­ Sam thought numbly. Where are you? This can¡¯t be part of the plan, can it?

 Chapter 9 - Artie the Friendly Slave Trader

    Will


    Will carefully monitored the steam rising from the evaporating dish, tweaking a small gas burner below to avoid the liquid coming to a boil. In a few minutes, it would be reduced enough to Prepare the final product of curare oil he used to coat blades and arrowheads.


    Seeing that the process was running smoothly, he turned his attention to another project on the cluttered workbench; a stone mortar filled partway with dried, brownish flower petals. Goatweed; able to be both mixed into potions and poultices to speed up the healing of wounds. He took up the heavy pestle and began grinding the petals into a fine powder. He would mix this batch with a water base and smaller amounts of a few other herbs to make healing potions, enough for about a half-dozen.


    Absorbed in thought, idly humming to himself, Will eventually realized that he had forgotten about the curare, the burner setup standing in the blind spot of his missing left eye. Luckily he had not left it too long, and he turned off the flame just as the clear oil reached the correct consistency. He was transferring the viscous liquid into a vial using a small ceramic scraper when the door to the workshop came open with the telltale rough-handed banging of one of the chimps.


    Will cut a cork for the vial and stoppered it, stuck an adhesive label to the front of it that explained its contents, and set it up on a high shelf along with many other of his finished poisons. He set aside the labware he had used for later cleanup, and turned to face the vest-wearing chimp standing in the doorway.


    ¡°What is it, Number One?¡± he asked, arms crossed. ¡°Tell Mongrel that if he wants something from me, he can come ask me himself like a grown adult. Also¡­¡± He pointed an admonishing finger at the cigarette hanging from the corner of the old ape¡¯s mouth. ¡°I told you, no smoking in my workshop. If you can¡¯t follow some simple rules, I¡¯ll stop making more of those things.¡±


    Number One did not look intimidated, but made a show of grinding out his cigarette against the gravel outside, stuffing the unsmoked half in a vest pocket for later consumption. ¡®Scary lady back,¡¯ he signed, then motioned with one long arm toward the farmhouse a ways up the shallow incline.


    Will did not wait for details, shouting his thanks in passing as he snatched his coat off the hook by the door and pushed past the chimp. He labored up to the main house, where three of the other boys sat on the porch telling rude jokes to each other in sign¡ªand, of course, smoking¡ªand headed inside. Mongrel met him in the hall and started telling him something, but Will ignored him. He stopped only when he caught the naked profile of the demon lying on the floor in front of the hearth, having just lit a crackling fire¡ªdespite the fact that it was the middle of the day, and nearly summer to boot.


    ¡°Talk,¡± Will snapped, holding a hand up in front of Mongrel¡¯s face to keep him from cutting in.


    ¡°Everything went perfectly, more or less,¡± Nyx said without looking back. Yawning, she stretched out her legs and settled into a more comfortable position. ¡°Pretending to be a human was fun. Earth is a strange place.¡±


    ¡°Riveting. You can tell us the play-by-play about your tourist experience later. What about Sam? She went along with it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she died quite beautifully.¡±


    Will closed his one eye and took a deep, calming breath. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°I guided her through the Crossroads without issue and left her at the Tower. Assuming Unger holds up his end of the bargain, which he will, she should appear at the Shore of Awakening any minute now, if she hasn¡¯t already.¡±


    Will turned to leave the room without another word, having heard what he needed to know. Mongrel hurried after him in his awkward, shambling run. ¡°You going to get her?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yup,¡± Will replied. Retrieving his sword belt and strapping on the weapon, he exited the house and hopped off the front porch. He strode across the grazing field that made up a good chunk of the property, grass clipped short by greedy animal mouths.


    ¡°Want a couple of the boys along for company? The Shore can get dicey, you know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m faster on my own.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­¡±


    Will stopped, looking back at the ugly little man who had fallen behind and was standing a ways off. ¡°Thanks for worrying,¡± Will said. ¡°But I¡¯ll be fine. Me and Sam both.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not worried,¡± Mongrel grumbled, crossing his arms tightly like a pouty child. His round cheeks developed a rosy flush. ¡°But do you think you¡¯ll be back by tonight? It¡¯s not good to spend the night out there, either in the woods or on the beach.¡±


    Will sighed, throwing his arms up. ¡°I have no idea when I¡¯ll be back. Hopefully within a few hours, but I¡¯ll stay out there until I¡¯ve got her.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t kill yourself over it. The Shore of Awakening goes on for a long stretch.¡±


    Will did not answer. Turning away from Mongrel, he crossed the last bit of the property and entered the dense leafy forest beyond. He stepped over roots and around rocks, sticking to game trails he knew as he headed south.


    Normally, Will would have exercised a certain level of caution when entering any Frontier forest, but there was no time for that now. He picked up speed as he went, occasionally launching himself into a Dash that sent him zipping through the air, kicking off tree trunks, bouncing between them, vaulting over difficult terrain that would have taken minutes to cut through or navigate around.


    Faster, faster, faster he soared, only his points in Senses and Processing allowing him to react to the obstacles coming at him at bone-crushing speeds, swinging off branches and springboarding off boles, once Repelling himself away from a boulder appearing out of nowhere behind a small rise to avoid a collision.


    Will skidded onto the drab, grainy sand of the Shore of Awakening before the sun had reached its noonday peak overhead, a hazy blotch of light visible through the cloud cover. He was breathing heavily, hair plastered to his skull with sweat, chest heaving as he rested hands on knees.


    He still had 11 out of 14 AP remaining for the search ahead, but his extensive use of cantrips to cut the travel time was hitting him hard. He sucked air in raspy wheezes, missing ribs making his respiratory system work all the harder to function properly.


    But Will had no time to stop and rest. As soon as he¡¯d caught his breath, he forced himself straight and said: ¡°Detect [Samantha Darling].¡± Another AP crystal on his arm went dark, and he scanned the terrain around him for the influx of visual data confirming that he had found his mark. No luck.


    Moving back into the treeline to avoid discovery, Will continued east, prowling along the coastline while occasionally casting another Detect to cast a wider net for any sign of Sam, especially around the slaver watchtowers. If he didn¡¯t get her right as she came out of the water, there was a good chance she would end up at one of those. While unpleasant, especially if he was unable to find her before she was processed and sent into the city, the alternative where she managed to evade capture and make it into the woods frightened him nearly as much. There were worse things than slavers in the Forlorn Frontier, and at least slavers would usually take some pains to keep their product alive.


    I¡¯ll find her, Will thought, trying to feign confidence for his own benefit. I will find her.


    The search continued.


    * * *


    Sam


    Once she¡¯d been transported to the watchtower, Sam was released from all but her neck collar, which was fastened to the wall by a chain inside the single large room to keep her from escaping. She was given a shirt and trousers of the same gray roughspun fabric, and unhooked from her chain while she dressed, though she was placed back on her black-iron tether straight after. She had never worn anything so scratchy in her life, and both parts of her two-piece outfit were far too big, with only a frayed length of string to use for a belt. Tucking the shirt into her trousers and tying the ¡®belt¡¯ as tight as she managed, it at least kept everything more or less where it ought to be.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    After dressing, she was allowed to sit by the firepit at the center of the room, and given a bowl of hot oatmeal filled with savory bits of what she hoped was corned beef to warm her up. The four slavers that had caught her left again to get medical attention for the fellow with the broken arm, leaving only a fifth¡ªthe tower watchman who had been there when they arrived¡ªto oversee Sam and another young man they had caught that day.


    The lone slaver shuffled around for a while, going about mundane everyday activities like sweeping and doing his rounds and mending an old sock, before eventually taking a seat by the fire. The male slave stretched his chain taut to huddle in a corner as far away from another human as he could get, a faraway look in his eyes. A large welt covered almost the entire left side of his face. Evidently, he had not accepted his enslavement with the utmost grace.


    ¡°Hello,¡± the slaver said to Sam, his voice sounding strangely furtive given the circumstances. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about all this.¡± He glanced at the collar around her neck, then looked away with a wince, clearing his throat. ¡°Ahem. I know me being sorry probably doesn¡¯t make a difference, but still.¡±


    Sam threw the man a sidelong look¡ªtoo brawny to suit his soft voice¡ªthen swiveled her eyes back to stare at the fire instead. ¡°Just business, right?¡± she chuckled.


    ¡°I guess so.¡± The man felt at a gap in his bottom teeth with his tongue. ¡°I¡¯m Artie. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Sam.¡±


    Artie pointed toward a strange circular marking¡ªalmost like a tattoo¡ªat the top of Sam¡¯s left forearm, matching one on his own. She''d had enough on her mind that she hadn¡¯t even noticed it until now. ¡°You¡¯re a Laborer,¡± he said, motioning to the diagonal hammer at the center of the circle. ¡°Good for you.¡± He sounded sincere.


    ¡°Why¡¯s that good?¡±


    ¡°Laborers are valuable. Rare, too. You¡¯ll probably get recruited into the lord¡¯s militia, so you won¡¯t stay a slave for long. Just sit tight until then.¡±


    Sam shook her head, slowly but determinedly. She had no plans to remain a slave for any length of time. This dream is taking a really weird turn.


    ¡°Do you know someone named Will?¡± she asked when the slaver let the conversation lapse into silence. ¡°William Greene?¡±


    Artie frowned. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. Why?¡±


    ¡°He should be around here somewhere. I have to find him.¡±


    The big man¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Didn¡¯t you just wash up?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then you shouldn¡¯t know anyone on the Frontier. Are you talking about someone back on Earth? I¡¯m sorry, but you¡¯re better off forgetting the ones you knew in that life as soon as you can. Clinging to those memories will only lead to sleepless nights. Trust me¡ªit¡¯s better to let it fade.¡±


    Sam pressed her lips shut, uncertain. She wasn¡¯t sure how much it was wise to reveal about the circumstances that had brought her here. From what people had been telling her, it sounded like her situation was not typical. ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right,¡± she said after some time.


    It wasn¡¯t too long before Sam¡¯s frozen bones began to thaw. Having worked up an appetite, she asked for a second bowl of oatmeal, noticing that there was still a good bit left in the pot standing on a wooden board beside the fire.


    ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to give you anything else,¡± Artie said uncomfortably. ¡°Tinny says there¡¯s no point wasting food on slaves, since you get fed at the auction house in the city. But, well¡­¡± He glanced at the fellow in the corner. ¡°He didn¡¯t eat much, so I suppose giving you a bit extra wouldn¡¯t hurt.¡± He stood up and went to refill Sam¡¯s bowl with two extra ladlefuls of steaming slop. ¡°If anyone asks, I ate it, not you.¡±


    He gave her the bowl, and she thanked him with a smile before digging in. ¡°Could I make an observation?¡± she asked midway through her second portion.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Artie said, stirring the fire with a poker. It was starting to dwindle, but he wasn¡¯t putting any more wood on¡ªshe gathered it had mostly been for her benefit in the first place.


    ¡°You don¡¯t really seem much like the slaver type.¡±


    Artie shot her a quick, rueful smile, then his gaze darted away again. ¡°What¡¯s the ¡®slaver type¡¯ like?¡±


    ¡°You know, sleazy. A bit rapey, maybe. Your friends have pretty much got it down pat.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t do this because we like it, you know.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Then why do it?¡±


    A shrug. Artie began poking more aggressively at the fire. Streams of sparks somersaulted into the air, rising toward slitted vents in the ceiling. ¡°It was either that or the mines. I¡¯m a Trader, so it wasn¡¯t much of a choice. I wouldn¡¯t last a month digging for iron. I¡¯ve heard the stories that come out of that place.¡±


    ¡°Trader is your¡­ Profession, right?¡± The symbol on his arm had a set of balance scales, unlike her own hammer. ¡°Why don¡¯t you trade something a bit more normal than other humans?¡±


    ¡°Gee, why didn¡¯t I think of that?¡± Artie muttered. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. Nothing¡¯s simple here. You¡¯ll learn that soon enough. Or maybe you won¡¯t.¡± He glanced at her again, and there was a strange note of something¡ªcould it be jealousy?¡ªin his voice.


    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, you¡¯ll end up in the militia, and you''ll probably get placed in the guardsman branch. They have it easy, as long as they stay on Brimstone¡¯s good side. Give it a few months, and you¡¯ll probably be shaking down people like me for ¡®protection money¡¯ or some such. If you¡¯re one of the good ones, you might leave us the clothes on our backs.¡±


    ¡°Is it really that bad?¡±


    Artie did not reply. Changing the topic, he motioned to the male slave with his smoking poker, the man snarling silently in return. ¡°Now that fellow, he¡¯s an Explorer. Poor guy. Headed straight for the mines.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s just too many of ¡®em to be useful for anything else, and they¡¯re convenient to use for menial labor. Ironically, Laborers almost never have to do work like that. They¡¯re too valuable.¡±


    Sam threw a sympathetic look in her fellow prisoner¡¯s direction. She was ashamed at the relief she felt over not choosing Explorer, like she¡¯d wanted. ¡°This place is fucking insane.¡±


    Artie laughed hysterically at that, like it was the funniest joke he¡¯d ever heard. It sounded like he wanted to cry instead. At the creak of footsteps coming up the stairs to the raised guard room, he suddenly went quiet, then yanked the half-empty bowl out of Sam¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Just be quiet and do as they say, and they won¡¯t hurt you.¡± Raising his voice, he called: ¡°How''d it go, Tin¡ª¡±


    He was cut off by a cacophony of wood tearing and metal groaning as the door flew inward off its hinges, flipping as it shot over the fire. Artie barely had time to widen his eyes in surprise before the door hurtled into him and carried him clean off his feet, slamming them both against the other wall. Sam stared as the door fell flat with a heavy thump, and the big man sagged limply on top of it.


    Turning her attention back to the now-open doorway, she saw a man standing there, backlit by the dirty sunlight that filtered through the clouds. He was tall, wearing clothing that, despite being in neutral colors, was of obviously finer cut than anything she¡¯d seen in the slavers¡¯ possession. He carried a lightly curved sword in one white-knuckled fist, and his expression was grim. As he stepped into the firelight, she saw that one of his eyes had been stitched shut¡ªjust looking at it made Sam want to wince.


    The stranger¡¯s one eye rested on her, and he threw his coat back to sheathe his sword. ¡°Sam,¡± he said, features softening as he deflated with relief.


    Only when he spoke did Sam recognize him. ¡°Will,¡± she whispered. She tried to stand, and was yanked off her feet when her chain reached the end of its slack¡ªforgotten until it forcefully reminded her of its presence.


    Will was halfway over to her when the slaver stirred, resting one shoulder against the wall to support himself while he felt at a freely bleeding gash on his forehead with fumbling fingers. ¡°Wuh¡­?¡± he groaned.


    Will had a weapon in his hand less than a second later, a long-bladed knife this time. He strode across the room to the slaver, pulling his head back by his hair to expose his throat.


    ¡°W¡­ Wait!¡± Artie cried.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Sam echoed.


    Only the second utterance caused Will to pause. ¡°What?¡± he asked without looking back.


    ¡°Don¡¯t kill him.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. Do you usually need a reason not to kill someone?¡±


    ¡°In this place, you do.¡±


    ¡°He was nice to me.¡±


    With a growl, Will kicked Artie onto his back and whirled around to face Sam, spinning the knife between his fingers like it was some sort of nervous tic. ¡°Sam, you don¡¯t know everything that¡¯s going on yet, but trust me, this man has to die. If¡ªwhen¡ªhe tells someone about this, it will be very bad for both of us.¡±


    Holding onto her chain to make sure she wasn¡¯t running out of slack, Sam rose to her feet. ¡°You¡¯re not killing him,¡± she said, sounding more confident than she felt.


    She could hardly believe that this man she was looking at was the same shy, slightly nerdy kid she¡¯d known since she was little. It was like all the joy had been sucked out of him, and the cold figure that remained, staring her down with its one dark eye, scared the shit out of her.


    ¡°I-I won¡¯t tell anyone,¡± Artie blurted quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll say I don¡¯t remember, that the door hit me, and I¡­ I passed out! I don¡¯t remember a thing. Not a thing. You weren¡¯t here, Master One-Eye.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your input, friend,¡± Will said, his voice gone eerily calm. ¡°Now, if you¡¯d shut the fuck up for a moment, I¡¯d appreciate that very much.¡±


    ¡°Will,¡± Sam said, trying to bring his attention back around. ¡°You¡¯re right. I don¡¯t have a clue what¡¯s going on. But I know this man was kind to me when he didn¡¯t have to be, and if he says he won¡¯t tell anyone whatever you don¡¯t want people to know, I believe him.¡±


    Will regarded her for one long moment, whirling that knife around and around. ¡°Fine,¡± he growled at last. ¡°God, I forgot how stubborn you can be.¡±


    Sam''s reply was a sunny smile. It was the first thing he¡¯d said that sounded anything like his old self. She rattled the chain that connected her to a heavy bracket on the wall. ¡°Now, maybe you could do something about this? It doesn¡¯t quite go with my outfit.¡±


    Will reluctantly stowed his weapon.

 Chapter 10 - The Pros and Cons of Aggravated Murder

    Will


    Even wearing what Will would most charitably describe as a pair of empty potato sacks with holes cut into them, her boy-short hair sticking out in crazy directions, Sam still looked more beautiful than anything even his idyllic memories of her could compare to.


    She was taller than he remembered. Wider, too. More solid. Never the traditionally girly type, it was clear that she¡¯d kept up her psychotic dedication to exercise based on what he could make out of her long limbs, which were etched with lean muscle definition. Flat-chested and devoid of any excess fat, she didn¡¯t exactly fill out her potato sacks in any particular way, but he still found his eyes utterly glued to her.


    The steely determination in her eyes was the same as it always had been¡ªnot cruel or cynical, but simply an unshakable self-confidence. Despite being unable to look away, Will found that he wasn¡¯t quite able to meet her gaze, either. He had done so many things in this place to let her down; and even before, on Earth. If she knew how much blood stained his hands, maybe¡­


    Not now. Later.


    Sam gave the chain another firm tug. ¡°Well?¡±


    Will shrugged. ¡°Give it a try yourself. You might be surprised.¡± If he knew her right, she would have put a healthy number of points in Strength. Getting down on one knee, he opened his Inventory and caught his medicine bag as it was spat out of the small black void. He took out a small flask of brandy, then replaced the bag.


    As he stood, he raised the flask in Sam¡¯s direction. ¡°Something to soothe your nerves?¡± he asked, knowing she would refuse.


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t¡­ drink,¡± Sam grunted, looping the chain around her left arm as she reeled in the slack, pulling hard with little result except an unholy rattling and a dusting of brown rust flakes displaced from the metal links. ¡°Not that much has changed in five years, you know.¡±


    ¡°I thought my death might have driven you to the bottle,¡± Will joked.


    ¡°Har-dee-har. You wish, dude.¡± Reeling herself in all the way to the base of the chain, she hopped up to put her feet on either side of the metal bracket on the wall, pulling with her legs.


    After taking a sip of liquor himself, Will offered the bottle up to the two remaining people in the room, gauging interest. Seeing them both licking their lips for some liquid courage, he contemplated murder.


    If he Repelled weakly against the bottom of the bottle, it would break the seal placed there, allowing a small amount of poison to mix with the liquor. Certainly enough to kill two grown men, but it would be several minutes before it began to take effect, giving him and Sam more than enough time to be on their way before she noticed anything was amiss. He would have to shatter her innocence eventually, but that time wasn''t now.


    These men needed to die. He couldn¡¯t allow news of his involvement here to travel back to Brimstone. If the lord of Sheerhome found out about Sam and took an interest, or found reason to suspect Will¡¯s loyalties¡­ Needless to say, their charred corpses would be adorning his walls before long.


    With his left arm covered by his coat sleeve, they would not be able to see the AP he spent on the Repel. The poison was practically tasteless, especially when mixed with strong alcohol. The death it induced was painless, just drowsiness followed by eternal sleep. A more merciful fate than most in the Frontier got.


    But for some reason, when the slaver reached for the flask, Will hesitated. When he allowed the man to take it from his hand, he still had not cracked the poison seal, and he found himself blinking in confusion as he watched the man take a long pull of brandy, a trickle of reddish liquid escaping the corner of his mouth, then handing it to the bruised slave huddled in the corner, who glared suspiciously at Will before sipping at it himself.


    Stupid, Will admonished himself. How do I get rid of them quietly now? I could try to smear some contact poison on a glove and find a reason to touch them under the pretense of helping them get on their way, but the setup needed would almost certainly look suspicious. They saw me drink from the brandy, so they didn¡¯t suspect it, but I don¡¯t know if they would accept any ¡®medicine¡¯ I gave them. I suppose I could find an excuse to double back later and kill them when Sam isn¡¯t here to wag her finger at me, but they might have had time to be debriefed by then. Maybe even enough time for a runner to be sent to the city.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Of course, there¡¯s no way I could actually let them live. It¡¯s a shame. The slave hasn¡¯t done anything wrong, but he¡¯s seen just as much as his captor. I don¡¯t trust a promise of selective amnesia from these bastards past me turning my back to them, and the slave hasn¡¯t even given that much.


    It can¡¯t be helped. Fuck, why¡¯d I have to hesitate with the flask?


    Will was broken out of his deliberation by a groan of metal, the repeated plinking of bolts snapping, and a loud squawk as Sam flew clear of the wall, dragging chain, bracket, and a shower of splintered wood with her. She landed on her back, mouth wide in mute shock, staring at the loose chain wrapped around her arm.


    ¡°I¡¯m so strong!¡± Sam exclaimed. She looked up at Will. ¡°Did you see that?¡±


    ¡°I saw it,¡± Will replied indulgently, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth. ¡°How many points did you put in Strength?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I think it was six. No, eight! It was definitely eight.¡±


    ¡°No wonder you tore through that thing, then. Your noodle arm days are officially over¡ªenjoy.¡±


    Sam jumped easily to her feet. ¡°I never had noodle arms! Take that back!¡± The heavy metal bracket trailed on the floor, still attached to her. She frowned at it, then began tugging on her slave collar.


    ¡°Sir?¡± an uncertain voice called out, drawing Will¡¯s eye back onto the large, ponderous slaver, who was wringing his hands and keeping his gaze firmly directed at his own boot-tips. ¡°Master One-Eye, I mean. My name is Artie.¡±


    ¡°Great to meet you, Artie,¡± Will said with no small amount of sarcasm. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡­¡± The man swallowed. ¡°What happens now? Are you letting me live?¡±


    ¡°He is,¡± Sam replied confidently.


    Will sighed. Despite the general exhaustion weighing him down until he felt like a couple hundred pounds of spoiled bread dough, he was also developing a fun little migraine.


    Despite there being a hundred valid reasons why they could not be allowed to live, he just didn''t have the energy to grapple with the guilt of murdering someone at the moment.


    ¡°Whatever,¡± he said. "You can keep your neck. Now, needless to say, the rest of your squad are unlikely to be in a particularly forgiving mood when they find out that you''ve let a Laborer slip through your fingers. So for your own sake, I suggest you get out of here. Find another place to live. Never so much as think about Sheerhome again.¡±


    ¡°Sheerhome? Why, I¡¯ve never even been to Sheerhome!¡± Artie chuckled nervously.


    ¡°Attaboy.¡± Will gave the man a few good-natured claps on the shoulder, making him flinch with each one. ¡°Keep up that attitude. Because if I see you again, or discover that you''ve been making trouble for me, I will fucking cut you in half.¡±


    Sam laughed at the funny joke Will had made.


    Artie laughed hysterically in fear of his life.


    Will laughed without feeling any trace of amusement at all.


    After working at breaking her collar for a while without success, unable to find good purchase, Sam elbowed Will to get his attention. ¡°Get this open for me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll sort it out once we get someplace safer. You¡¯re stuck with it for now.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    ¡°Stop whining.¡±


    ¡°Master One-Eye?¡± Artie cut in. He pointed to the slave sitting on the floor, who had barely moved a muscle throughout the entire exchange. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt, sir, but¡­ What about him?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s your responsibility now,¡± Will said with a shrug.


    ¡°But he hates me.¡±


    ¡°Can you blame him?¡±


    ¡°No, but¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will overcome your difficulties and find yourselves the best of friends in no time.¡±


    ¡°O-Of course.¡± Artie cleared his throat. ¡°Master One-Eye¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Okay. What do I call you?¡±


    ¡°Anything but that and ¡®Misfortune¡¯ is fine.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ sir?¡±


    Will rolled his single eye, and directed Sam to help break the other slave out of his confinement. ¡°Yeees, Artie?¡±


    ¡°Forgive me for saying so, but¡­ You¡¯re not doing this on behalf of the lord, are you?¡±


    ¡°Whatever made you think that? The fact that I¡¯ve damaged one of his watchtowers? The fact that I¡¯m freeing two of his slaves? Great detective work Artie, a truly inspired deduction.¡±


    ¡°You know¡­¡± Sam grunted, arms flexed and quivering with strain as she pulled on the second bracket, having already burst two out of four bolts. ¡°You¡¯d make more friends if you weren¡¯t so sarcastic with people all the time. It¡¯s not charming.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t mind,¡± Will replied dryly.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t,¡± Artie agreed, a little too quickly to sound sincere.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about him, Artie. He¡¯s a big softie once you get to know him.¡±


    The slaver eyed Will doubtfully, prodding his fresh wound. ¡°I¡­ see.¡± Then, after a moment¡¯s hesitation, he added: ¡°Miss.¡± He seemed unable to properly classify Sam''s position, given that she was interacting on seemingly equal ground with Will.


    ¡°I prefer Sam.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what he calls you,¡± Will said, ¡°because the two of them were just leaving. As are we.¡± He turned to Sam as she got the second bracket clear of the wall, stripped bolts bent at awkward angles coming off the square piece of metal. ¡°Right?¡±


    Sam gathered up the chain and bracket and awkwardly handed them over for to the slave to carry in his arms. ¡°I guess so,¡± she said. ¡°But why can¡¯t they come with us?¡±


    Will was done letting Sam talk him into nonsense. Without another word, he dragged her out of the room by the ragged collar of her sack shirt, soon had her stumbling down the steps of the rickety staircase that led down to the beachfront.


    ¡°Oh, uh, bye Artie!¡± she called up, getting a muffled, indistinguishable reply from above.


    Confirming that there were no other people within eyeshot with a quick pulse of Detect [Life], Will adjusted his hold on Sam so that he had a firm grip on her wrist instead. He took her north across the sands, then the grassy turf beyond, then under tree cover. The afternoon was starting to drag on, sun dropping. He hoped they would reach the farm before nightfall.

 Chapter 11 - A Romantic Walk Through the Evil Forest of Doom

    Sam


    Sam let herself be pulled along until they were walking among old, twisted trees, the waning sunlight further softened under a cover of twisted branches. She was still surprised by her new strength¡ªsomehow, she felt that if she wanted to, she could easily have resisted Will¡¯s efforts to move her. It was an intoxicating feeling. Despite the fact that Will had never been particularly athletic, he had always been stronger than her ever since they entered puberty. That was just the difference between boys and girls. She had long ago been forced to accept that no amount of training could change that simple biological fact.


    But now¡­


    Could the number ¡®8¡¯ on a silly sheet of paper really have changed so much?


    Despite all this, Sam pretended that she was helpless to resist, because she didn¡¯t mind Will showing his assertive side. If anything, it was making her stomach tingle with butterflies.


    Now that they were alone, an awkward silence descended between them that was only broken by the rustle of leaves above and the crunching of dead branches underfoot.


    After some time, she realized that Will¡¯s hand wasn¡¯t just clammy because he was nervous¡ªhe was breathing heavy, too, and his face had an unhealthy sheen of sweat. His step began to grow unsteady, and soon she was holding him up as much as he was leading her along.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Are you ill?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Will panted breathlessly, giving her a tired smile that might have been meant to look reassuring. ¡°Just a little tired, that¡¯s all. I was kind of in a rush to find you.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem ¡®just a little tired¡¯ to me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Sam. Really.¡± Reluctantly, he motioned for her to set him down against a nearly cube-shaped rock protruding from the ground. ¡°I just need a breather.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what people say in movies before they die, Will.¡± Her bunched-up chain clinked as she seated herself cross-legged in the undergrowth opposite him, letting the pile of heavy links pool in her lap.


    ¡°You are such a brat,¡± Will muttered.


    She stuck her tongue out at him.


    There was another silence. Sam fumbled for something to say, cleared her throat, made random percussive noises with her mouth. ¡°So¡­ What¡¯s up with your weird monster eye?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a long story.¡± Will scratched at his stitched-up eye somewhat sheepishly.


    ¡°And your finger!¡± She only noticed now that he was missing his left pinky.


    He let his hand drop, covering it with the other. ¡°Also a long story. Same one, really. I¡¯ll tell you about it later.¡±


    ¡°Does it hurt?¡±


    ¡°Later, Sam.¡±


    She scoffed. ¡°Fine, geez.¡± She reached for something else to say, chuckled. ¡°You know it was really goofy when you told that guy you¡¯d cut him in half, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Goofy?¡± Will asked, frowning. ¡°I wasn¡¯t joking.¡±


    ¡°No one cuts anyone in half, Will. That¡¯s stupid.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been in the Frontier long enough if that¡¯s what you think.¡±


    ¡°Right, right. Of course.¡± She drummed her hands on her knees. ¡°How were you going to cut him in half, anyway? Logistically, I mean. Lengthwise? Across? Diagonal, even?¡±


    ¡°Use your imagination.¡±


    Sam rolled her eyes. What an edgy little nerd. Definitely not sexy, she reminded herself.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Just to be safe, she kept her eyes off his stubbled jawline. That was new. He hadn¡¯t been able to grow any facial hair more than a few pubey chin hairs last time she¡¯d seen him.


    Will leaned back against the rock, breathing heavy, a grating rasp in his throat when he inhaled. It made her shiver, reminding her of those last few months, the hospital bed, the tube shoved down his trachea to keep his lungs inflating when he got too weak to do it himself. Watching him slowly waste away. Sam squeezed her eyes shut to dispel the memory, but that only made it stand out stark against the backs of her eyelids.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for letting you go through that,¡± he said, looking up into the green canopy, his tired voice bringing her back to the present. ¡°I should have been faster.¡±


    Sam grinned. ¡°At least I¡¯ll be able to tick ¡®slavery¡¯ off the bucket list.¡±


    ¡°I just hope your new friends know how to keep their mouths shut. You don¡¯t know how precarious the situation is right now.¡±


    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t we take them with us?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust them not to gut us in our sleep. Besides, if you start picking up strays in this place, that¡¯s all you¡¯ll be doing for the rest of your life. I¡¯ve got enough as it is.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m not the first girl you¡¯ve fished out of the ocean?¡± Sam asked, the hardness in her voice only half-joking.


    Will chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡ªI reserved that honor just for you.¡±


    Sam watched Will attempt to get his breath back for some time, and began inching closer to him. Their knees were almost touching before she realized what she was doing, but by then it would have been too awkward to shuffle away again, so she endured the close proximity despite the fact that it made her cheeks flush. He smelled like sweat. It wasn¡¯t sexy at all.


    When he looked like he was about to slump over, she pushed him back against the rock again. ¡°Seriously, Will, what¡¯s wrong with you? This isn¡¯t just tired. You haven¡¯t¡­?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten sick again,¡± Will replied, completing her thought. ¡°I pushed myself a bit too hard, that''s all.¡± He held out his left arm, and hiked up the sleeve to reveal a circular mark similar to her own, depicting a cauldron instead of a hammer. However, where Sam only had one crystal studding her arm, Will had¡­ she counted fourteen. A full line of ten going down almost to his wrist, and another that stopped short. A few of them shone with a soft blue glow, like Sam¡¯s did, but more than half of them were dark¡ªnearly black. He tapped one of the dull ones with a fingernail. ¡°These things are called AP crystals. You gain one with every level, so by counting how many another person has, you can tell what level they are.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re Level 14?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m Level 1?¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡±


    ¡°Is fourteen a lot?¡±


    Will gave a half-shrug. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want to brag¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up.¡± She repressed the urge to punch him in the tit, fearing she might collapse his rib cage with her new strength.


    He smiled wanly. ¡°But yeah, fourteen is considered a lot. Most people plateau around, hmm¡­ Between five and seven, I¡¯d say. Anything over ten will start to get you some looks.¡±


    ¡°Right, right, I¡¯m very impressed. But we were talking about the reason you look like death caught the flu.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting there. These AP crystals aren¡¯t just decoration. They store energy¡ªenergy you can use to cast skills given to you by the Concord.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°When you use a lot of them, it puts a toll on your body. It¡¯s called skill fatigue. If you overdo it, it can build up enough to put you out of commission for a while. Even kill you, in very extreme cases.¡±


    ¡°And you overdid it?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, I was in a hurry.¡± He shrugged. ¡°And there was a lot of running involved.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ll be fine, right? You won¡¯t be coughing up a lung or anything?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I just need a minute before I can keep going. It¡¯s not much further to where we¡¯re headed.¡±


    Sam nodded. Despite the derisive smile she affected, she was relieved. ¡°So¡­ What¡¯s this place we¡¯re headed to?¡±


    ¡°I have a house.¡±


    ¡°Brag about it, why don¡¯t you.¡±


    Will¡¯s one eye fixed her with a hard look, but he eventually broke into a smile. ¡°You¡¯ll be meeting a few¡­ acquaintances of mine when we get there. They can be a little colorful, but they¡¯re fine, for the most part.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me you have friends? Now I know you¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°Such a brat,¡± Will muttered, but didn¡¯t challenge her further. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a paper packet, extracting a cigarette from it and pinching it between his lips.


    ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯ll really help you catch your breath.¡±


    Ignoring her, Will struck a match and lit up his cigarette, giving it a few hard puffs before exhaling twin plumes through his nostrils with a grateful sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know,¡± he said, ¡°these are a herbal product of my own design. And no, it won¡¯t give me cancer¡ªthey¡¯re actually healthy for you.¡± He coughed and cleared his throat.  ¡°In moderation, anyway. Care to try?¡±


    Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m good, thanks.¡±


    ¡°Boring.¡±


    ¡°Dude, you¡¯re not going to peer-pressure me into smoking¡ªI¡¯m not thirteen years old.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I forgot how much you hate fun.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    They chuckled.


    Surprisingly, Will did seem perkier after a little influx of tar in his lungs. Standing up, he waved aside Sam¡¯s efforts to steady him. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving,¡± he said. ¡°Best not to get caught out here at night.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Sam asked.


    He offered her a lop-sided smile. ¡°There are worse things than slave traders in these parts.¡±


    That¡¯s not ominous.


    When Will started moving, Sam trotted along after. ¡°You know what way we¡¯re going, right?¡± It all looked the same to her.


    He didn¡¯t answer. Not cute at all.

 Chapter 12 - Meet the Cohabitating Acquaintances

    Sam


    ¡°Artie made it sound like Laborers are pretty sought after,¡± Sam said as she followed in Will¡¯s footsteps, keeping her eyes on the ground so she wouldn''t cut her bare feet on any sharp rocks or thorny underbrush.


    ¡°They are,¡± Will replied over his shoulder. And what shoulders they were. ¡°Laborer is the rarest Profession by a good margin. As you might imagine, there aren¡¯t exactly any decent census records in a place like this, but it¡¯s estimated that less than half a percent of lifers¡ªpeople reborn into the Frontier¡ªpick Laborer.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s rare¡ªwhy does that matter, though?¡±


    ¡°There are a few reasons. You level up based on your participation and personal achievement in the activity associated with your Profession. Laborer is the only Profession that can level up from pure physical exertion¡ªsuch as fighting, for instance. That makes them by far the best option for soldiers, guards, mercenaries, you name it.


    ¡°They also have several powerful abilities that help boost their performance in this role. Like the skill called Strike, which is technically the only pure offensive ability provided by the Concord, originally made for fighting off aggressive wildlife and such. High demand for Laborers combined with low supply means that local warlords are always jumping at the chance to recruit more of them.¡±


    ¡°Right. And what are you supposed to be, exactly?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Cook-Explorer synergist.¡± Looking over his shoulder, he grinned at the querying look on her face. ¡°That means I started out as a Cook, then branched into Explorer when I got the chance to specialize at Level 10, giving me access to abilities from both Professions.¡±


    ¡°Sounds complicated.¡±


    Will jumped over a root that stuck out of the earth like a bent knee. ¡°Only until you get the hang of it. Don¡¯t worry, this stuff will become second nature eventually.¡±


    Sure. I don¡¯t think this dream is going to last that long, but whatever.


    ¡°Artie said Explorers were bad,¡± Sam pointed out. ¡°Why¡¯d you pick that as your second option?¡±


    ¡°Well, our dear Artie was half right. Explorers actually get some really nice features, especially for traversal and navigation, but it¡¯s held back by the fact that you need to, well, explore to get anywhere with it. Traveling outside the walled cities isn¡¯t exactly conducive to a long life. It doesn¡¯t help that about a third of all lifers are Explorers. That¡¯s on account of the fact that most people don¡¯t have any idea what they¡¯re getting into when they have to pick their Profession, and ¡®Explorer¡¯ sounds a lot cooler than ¡®Physician¡¯ for example, meaning it¡¯s the opposite situation from Laborer¡ªhigh supply, low demand. Explorers are often consigned to drudgery in mines and sawmills and such, on account of the fact that as long as you keep them penned up in one place, you don¡¯t have to worry about them ever outleveling their captors and overthrowing them, meaning you have a constant supply of menial labor without much fuss.


    ¡°That being said, Explorer can be a nice branch-out pick for lifers who have already got enough levels under their belt that they can reasonably travel around a bit, given the fact that synergists can level up from the activity of the Profession they branch into, as well as the one they started with.¡±


    ¡°I guess that makes sense.¡± It sort of did. A little bit.


    The sky was beginning to purple when they abruptly stepped out of the woods and into a field of short grass with colorful bunches of wildflowers in blue and red and yellow.


    At the head of a shallow hill maybe a hundred feet in the distance, there stood a cluster of buildings with warm light shining out of several. Shifting silhouettes suggested people moving about within.


    Sam tensed up, fearing another run-in with some friendly neighborhood flesh dealers.


    ¡°Here we are,¡± Will said, sounding tiredly triumphant. ¡°The farm. If there¡¯s anyplace in the Frontier where you can let your guard down, it¡¯s here.¡±


    Sam felt her muscles slowly unbunch as she followed Will up the gently sloping ground. They walked past stumps of trees cut down to clear more arable land, and several crop fields extending out to their right.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    A dark figure came pounding toward them from the buildings, moving with an odd, shambling, hunch-backed gait, and Sam¡¯s hackles immediately rose again. Whatever that was, it certainly did not look human.


    It took her brain several moments to process that it was, in fact, a chimp in human clothing¡ªan open-front vest adorned with wooden toggles and embroidered with the number ¡®1¡¯ at the breast.


    For some reason, Will did not appear alarmed, stopping and directing several unfamiliar hand signs at the chimp, who replied in kind with thick but surprisingly nimble fingers before knuckling on past the man, headed straight for Sam.


    She found herself unable to speak as the chimp stopped before her, its wide lips peeling back in a gummy grimace, showing yellow canines that would easily rend flesh.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Sam stammered, holding her pile of chains protectively in front of her chest. ¡°Hello? Nice to meet you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Number One,¡± Will said, looking inordinately amused by her discomfort. The withering glare she shot his way did not seem to have any effect. The chimp made another round of signs with both hands, and Will added: ¡°He says it¡¯s nice to meet you, too. He wants you to bend down a little.¡±


    Reluctantly, Sam did as she was asked. The chimp¡ªNumber One¡ªreached up with one over-long arm and touched the collar around her neck with two fingers, signing with the other hand.


    At the chimp¡¯s touch, the solid metal confining Sam¡¯s neck suddenly came apart with a series of snapping sounds, little bits of iron tumbling over her shoulders and disappearing into the grass.


    Sam gaped. Letting the chain¡ªwhich was no longer attached to anything¡ªdrop to the ground with a hissing rattle, she felt at her neck with both hands, finding nothing except a bit of chafed skin to remind her that there had in fact been a collar there a moment prior.


    ¡°That skill is called ¡®Demolish¡¯,¡± Will explained. ¡°It destroys non-living matter. Convenient, right?¡±


    ¡°Convenient,¡± Sam agreed numbly.


    Number One gave her another frightening grimace. Smiling, she realized, feeling a little foolish. He was probably trying to put her at ease. ¡°Good monkey,¡± she said, and patted him on his graying, wispy-haired head.


    Smile widening, Number One offered out his hand, and Sam took it. The skin was rough and hard, feeling almost like grainy wood, but his grip was surprisingly gentle.


    ¡°He¡¯s a kind soul,¡± Will said as the chimp began leading them up the slope.


    ¡°I¡¯m noticing that.¡±


    ¡°The others can be a little rowdier.¡±


    ¡°The others? There¡¯s more than one chimp?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How many?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll let that be a surprise.¡±


    Five. Not a minute later she had five clothed chimps gathered around her, chattering and hooting and making insistent hand signs both at her and each other, wrestling for space. Two of them were nursing cigarettes, and a third used the ember from one of his compatriots¡¯ rolls to light up one of his own.


    ¡°What are they saying?¡± Sam asked over the wave of simian commotion.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to know,¡± Sam replied, coughing into his fist.


    She frowned. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    ¡°Will.¡±


    ¡°Look, there are no sexual harassment laws on the Frontier.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. They¡¯ll keep their hands to themselves, I''m sure.¡±


    Suddenly, the chimps¡¯ grinning faces looked a lot sketchier than they had a few moments ago, especially with the cigarettes pinched between their lips. She could almost imagine them sitting outside a cafe somewhere, rudely catcalling at passing women. Dear god, where have I ended up?


    Muffled bleating from a stables to her left suggested that there were even more animals she hadn¡¯t seen. She just hoped the goats weren¡¯t wearing pants.


    ¡°Hey! Leave the poor thing alone, you brutes!¡± came a hoarse voice. Looking up, Sam saw a man standing on the raised wooden porch of the main farmhouse, leaning against a rough-hewn support pillar with his arms crossed over his chest. He was terribly ugly in a ¡®weird uncle¡¯ sort of way¡ªhalf bald, with the rest of his hair sticking out in a chaotic, greasy shock.


    At his command, the chimps reluctantly backed away, giving Sam some space. With a few more verbal prods, he eventually got them to disperse, three of them piling into a smaller building while the remaining two fetched shortbows and bristling quivers and ventured off into the woods.


    ¡°That¡¯s Matt,¡± Will explained, nodding toward the ugly fellow. ¡°He goes by Mongrel. Don¡¯t ever play cards with him. Or dice. Actually, just don¡¯t gamble with him at all. He¡¯s the worst sort of bastard in just about every way you could imagine.¡±


    Pushing himself off the pillar, Mongrel sketched out an exaggerated bow. His arms were seemingly too long for his body, hanging awkwardly down the sides of his body. ¡°Guilty as charged. And you must be the Samantha I¡¯ve heard so many wistful fireside tales about.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s meee,¡± Sam said with a smile and an awkward shuffle that she immediately regretted.


    ¡°You¡¯re prettier than I thought you¡¯d be.¡±


    ¡°Mongrel,¡± Will said in a warning tone.


    ¡°I just mean that I expected any woman desperate enough to get with this loser,¡± he pointed at Will with a scuffed boot, ¡°to be on the frumpier end of the bell curve. No offense, kid. And frankly, from what he told me about your wrestling days, I was expecting something more like a bear in a dress.¡±


    Will groaned softly.


    ¡°O-Oh,¡± Sam said, her face going hot. ¡°Um, we weren¡¯t actually, uh, together. We were just friends.¡±


    ¡°Good friends,¡± Will agreed.


    ¡°Right, of course,¡± Mongrel said, looking between the two of them with a smirk that was altogether too knowing. ¡°Well, now that I¡¯ve said my hellos, I think maybe I should give you good friends some privacy, eh?¡± With that, he spun dramatically on his heel and sauntered inside the house, his coarse laughter echoing out into the yard until the door swung shut behind him.


    And then it was just the two of them again, and it got quiet except for the scream of an unseen goat.


    Me too, goat, Sam thought, swallowing a lump of nerves. Me too.

 Chapter 13 - Meet the Cohabitating Acquaintances [2]

    Sam


    Will went inside the house and returned bearing a stack of folded clothes. Showing her out back, he stood on the patio and motioned to an unassuming metal pipe, about four inches in diameter, that rose straight up before swinging back a short distance around chest-height in a reverse U-shape. Beside it stood a rusted hand crank.


    ¡°Very impressive,¡± Sam said, only a little sarcastically. ¡°What am I looking at?¡±


    ¡°The shower.¡±


    Will chuckled at the doubtful glance she threw his way. ¡°No hot water, I¡¯m afraid, but it¡¯s clean, and that¡¯s more than most people have, so you should consider yourself lucky. I do recommend you make it a quick wash¡ªit will be freezing cold.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s lovely, Will, but I¡¯m exhausted and overwhelmed and hungry. Can¡¯t this wait until tomorrow?¡±


    Tomorrow? Will there be a tomorrow?


    ¡°I insist,¡± Will persisted. ¡°You might have been in the water for a while before you washed up, so you will want to clean any excess salt off your skin to avoid irritation. Also, you stink of the ocean.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying I smell bad?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you stink.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± Sam snatched the clothes out of his hands. ¡°If you peek, I¡¯ll rip all your teeth out.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a very specific threat.¡±


    ¡°I was feeling inspired.¡±


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry¡ªsince no one inside apparently had the idea, I¡¯ll be starting on dinner.¡± Will placed a block of grayish soap on top of the clothes. ¡°Take this as well. I made it myself.¡±


    Sam felt irrationally annoyed as she watched him walk away, disappearing into the house through a creaky back door. Sure, she had said she was hungry, and she had threatened to render him dentally challenged, but couldn¡¯t he have tried just a little harder to stick around? This was her dream, after all. So what if she maybe wanted him to see her naked? Or, at least, to know that he wanted to.


    Sam shook free of her thoughts, a dangerous flush creeping up her neck despite the onsetting evening chill. Before she could talk herself out of it, she stripped free of her sack-cloth attire and ran out into the yard to begin pumping the crank.


    She stood there cranking away like an idiot for what felt like minutes before water finally came out of the cut-off U-bend. A dribble at first¡ªeach droplet stabbing at her like an icicle as it fell on her chest¡ªthen a sputtering jet that had her howling like a wolf.


    Freezing was an understatement. The sea had felt warmer, somehow.


    Sam stayed under the water only long enough to lather herself up in lightly lavender-scented soap and rinse it all off again, awkwardly transitioning between rubbing herself down and working the crank whenever the flow began to lessen.


    Afterward, she tiptoed to the patio with her arms wrapped around herself; teeth chattering, skin stiff with gooseflesh. She could not get into her new clothes fast enough. They were drab but blissfully warm woolens¡ªa little tight on her, but otherwise all right, and infinitely less scratchy than the last set. The double set of knitted socks she had been given was very much appreciated.


    It took Sam a moment to realize why the clothes fit her so oddly in the first place.


    These are Will¡¯s clothes, aren¡¯t they? She found herself clutching the hem of the tunic and forced herself to release it.


    Wearing his clothes. Smelling like his soap. Maybe she had died and gone to heaven. She¡¯d never heard of a heaven with slave traders in it, but how could it be anything different, if it came with such grand gifts as this?


    Clean and clothed, Sam had to admit that her skin didn¡¯t feel quite so raw, and when she bundled the old clothes into her arms she thought they smelled fishy. Knocking on the door to be let in, she suddenly felt a low-grade worry buzzing in her stomach¡ªas though, despite everything, someone would open the door and tell her to go away.


    Then she felt stupid for knocking in the first place. Should I have just walked in? Am I being weird?


    It was Mongrel who opened the door. He squinted into the dark at her, scratching at the uneven stubble on his leathery jowls. ¡°Oh dear, did I miss my chance to catch a peek? A man takes one innocent little nap¡­¡± He sighed wistfully, then began frowning. ¡°Well? What are you doing standing there like a field mouse? And why¡¯d you knock in the first place? This isn¡¯t some fancy-schmancy hotel or anything.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Sam struggled to process the juxtaposition of lechery and friendliness delivered with equal casualness. ¡°I don¡¯t know?¡±


    Mongrel scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re a little strange, eh? I can see why Will likes you.¡± Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered: ¡°He likes the crazy ones, you know.¡± When a beckoning motion didn¡¯t get her moving¡ªshe was still a bit stunned¡ªhe hauled her inside by the collar of her tunic, then hooked the door with a toe and pulled it shut. ¡°You were letting the bugs in,¡± he explained.


    Sam didn¡¯t care about that. Matching his surreptitious tone, she asked: ¡°Did he say that?¡±


    ¡°Say what?¡±


    ¡°That he likes me.¡±


    A crooked ear-to-ear grin split the older man¡¯s face in a display of bent, cracked, and yellowed teeth. ¡°Oh, he looo¡ª¡±


    Something whizzed past the tip of Mongrel¡¯s nose and he jerked back, pressing himself against the wall. Looking to her right, Sam found a slender knife embedded in the doorframe.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Enough of that,¡± Will said as he wandered into the room, his voice eerily calm. ¡°Mongrel, go back to sleep. Food won¡¯t be ready for another half-hour.¡±


    Recovering his grin in an instant, Mongrel scampered past Sam and made his way through the soft-furnitured room¡ªa living room, maybe?¡ªslipping through a doorway into the one Will had come out of.


    Sam wished he had been allowed to finish that sentence. With no one else to direct her frustration toward, she glared at Will. It was difficult to be angry with him, though, because he was wearing a pink cooking apron, and had a smudge of flour on his chin. The downturn of his stitched-shut eye, which gave him a permanently dour expression, made the whole thing appear more than a little comical.


    ¡°You like stew, don¡¯t you?¡± Will asked, leveling a used ladle toward her like a weapon.


    ¡°I-I do,¡± Sam admitted, immediately kicking herself for stuttering. Why couldn¡¯t she play this cool to save her life?


    Will nodded, lowering his culinary club. ¡°Good, because we¡¯re having beef stew. We only have meat on special nights, but I reckon tonight qualifies.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Fuck you, Sam! Say something smart! ¡°Uh¡­ Nice apron.¡±


    Will did not look down. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got something on your chin.¡± Before she realized what she was doing, she had crossed half the room to wipe it away for him. Except he had already gotten it with the back of his hand, and she was now just staring awkwardly at his one dark eye, her half-raised hands not quite wanting to come back down.


    ¡°How was the shower?¡± Will asked. Somehow, his closed eye seemed to be leering at her.


    ¡°Cold,¡± Sam replied.


    ¡°And now?¡±


    ¡°Better.¡± Shit. Would he have hugged me if I told him I was cold?


    She found that she had dropped her old clothes on the floor only when Will looked down at them, poking at the rough pile with his foot. ¡°Would you toss those outside for me? We¡¯ll burn them tomorrow. After that, please come through to the kitchen.¡±


    Will went away, and Sam was left gasping for no reason. Slowly, numbly, she moved to do as she had been instructed. But she paused in a halfway crouch, arms outstretched to pick up the old clothing¡ªnow that she had been left alone, she had a moment to take in the living room. It was dimly lit by a pair of lanterns hanging from opposite walls. There was a cold fireplace off to her left, surrounded by two padded armchairs and a circular coffee table. Three bookshelves lined the walls, quite well-stuffed, with less fortunate volumes lying scattered across the floor in several disordered piles. A grandfather clock of polished walnut, as tall as she was, ticked away in a corner. The time read 9:33.


    Despite a number of threadbare rugs, the room had precious little in the way of ornamentation, even the mantle standing empty. Those curtains were a dreadful puke-yellow, too. There could be no doubt that this was a man¡¯s den.


    This place could use a woman¡¯s touch, Sam thought dreamily. Interior decoration was never my strong suit, but I suppose if I have no choice¡­


    She bowled the bundle of sack-cloth through the back door and hurried down the hall Will had disappeared into. She would have been able to find her way to the kitchen even without directions, a mouth-watering scent of savory meats growing stronger as she neared it. Taking a left through the hallway, she entered a warm and brightly lit room where the food smell culminated in an explosion of scents she could almost taste on her tongue. Suddenly, her stomach was fist-fighting the inside of her ribs in its insistence to be filled.


    The kitchen was large. Its walls were white-washed and hung with dried herbs and black iron cookware and chains of hard-skinned sausages. A large square dining table of solid wood dominated the center of the room. Chairs surrounded it on three sides, with the quarter facing the back wall taken up by a white kitchen couch painted with floral patterns. Mongrel snoozed atop it, eyes hidden in the crook of his uplifted arm.


    Two fires burned on opposite ends of the room. A cooking fire on her right where Will labored over a large cauldron, taking a spoon to his fragrant creation for a tasting. Then, there was another fire on her left, a hearth that burned brightly for warmth. A figure lying in front of the fire blocked some of the light pooling from it, sending a dark shadow dancing over the floor in time with its shifting flames.


    Sam almost let her gaze slide past, then quickly found her attention firmly fixed on the figure by the hearth. Was that a woman? Yes, it was. Was she naked? Yes, she was. And was her skin¡­ oddly gray?


    ¡°Nyx?¡± Sam asked doubtfully.


    ¡°Oh, hello darling,¡± greeted the demon in her unmistakable sing-song drawl. She did not bother to look up from the fire, but did raise her hand in a lazy little wave, before letting it slap back down on her thigh. ¡°We¡¯ve all been waiting with bated breath for your arrival. I, for one, did not wager on you dashing your skull open against the rocks before reaching shore. Matthew owes me money.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s joking,¡± William said¡ªthough he didn¡¯t sound all that sure¡ªand Sam found him standing protectively by her side, again hefting that ladle like he intended to use it on somebody. ¡°Sam, Nyx¡ª¡± he shrugged, ¡°well, no need for introductions between the two of you. I take it you already know she¡¯s a demon?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Sam replied carefully, not taking her eyes off the well-curved taper of Nyx¡¯s back. ¡°Does she¡­ live here?¡±


    ¡°More like squatting,¡± Will replied with a sigh, sounding embarrassed. ¡°She¡¯s refusing to leave, and I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s nothing I can do to make her.¡±


    Sam glanced over, and was pleased to find that he was looking at her, not the demon¡¯s bare ass. ¡°Really? But you can make doors explode off hinges and stuff. Couldn¡¯t you at least, I dunno, make her wear some clothes?¡± Unless you prefer her naked, that is.


    She could not help a slight narrowing of her eyes, despite knowing that she really ought to hear him out before making any judgements. It¡¯s not like it concerns me anyway. We¡¯re just friends, after all. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s found plenty of girls¡ªor demons or whatever¡ªto smooch in the past five years. And good for him! There¡¯s no reason he shouldn¡¯t.


    But¡­


    But it¡¯s my dream, and I don¡¯t want my boyf¡ª my good friend making eyes at some trashy succubus who doesn¡¯t even have the common decency to wear some potato sacks to the dinner table.


    ¡°If only demons were so easily evicted,¡± Will sighed in response. Then, with a flourish of his wrist, he hurled the ladle across the room, sent spinning right at the back of the demon¡¯s head.


    Sam almost cried a warning out on pure reflex, despite her less-than-stellar opinion of the demon, but never got the chance as the cooking implement phased straight through her skull, as though she were suddenly made of smoke. It bounced first off the floor, then the wall, and Nyx caught it in her fist as it came flying back toward her.


    ¡°Optional corporeality,¡± Nyx said, placing her chin on her shoulder and looking back at Sam with mischief in her yellow eyes. ¡°Isn¡¯t it convenient?¡±


    ¡°Very,¡± Sam muttered through clenched teeth. ¡°So you just live here?¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± Nyx purred. She turned back to studying the fire, wiggling slightly to find a more comfortable position.


    ¡°And you have something against clothes, I take it?¡±


    ¡°Whatever makes you say that? I love dressing up in cute little human outfits. It¡¯s all so quaint. I do prefer to be comfortable when I¡¯m at home, of course.¡± As if to illustrate, Nyx steepled one leg, and Sam was forced to quickly look away lest she expose herself to a potential cognitohazard.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m sorry,¡± Will said with a dejected shrug. ¡°If there was anything I could do, she¡¯d be out on her ass, believe me.¡±


    ¡°I can hear you!¡± Nyx called.


    ¡°Good. Can I have my spoon back?¡±


    ¡°Only if you ask nicely, dear.¡±


    Will did not do that. Instead, he simply stomped over and yanked it out of her hand. She did not resist, but wore a look of unrestrained hunger as she watched him go, like a cat gearing up to pounce on a scurrying morsel. Except in Nyx¡¯s case, her hand hovered lazily, poised to smack his rump, before he passed out of range and she let it drop instead, releasing her disappointment with a disdainful yawn.


    ¡°And to think I was almost starting to like her,¡± Sam muttered under her breath. ¡°I see how it is now¡­¡±


    I won¡¯t lose to anyone, she urged herself; admonishing. Not in my own dream.


    It would be some time yet until dinner. Seating herself at the table to wait, she was caught between staring wistfully at Will¡¯s well-shaped back and glaring daggers into Nyx¡¯s nude one.

 Chapter 14 - Meet the Cohabitating Acquaintances [3]

    Will


    He had really hoped that Nyx would get bored and find someone else to exploit once she had fulfilled her bargain, but it seemed as though she was extracting great pleasure from tormenting him specifically, and not about to let up anytime soon.


    He did not even want to begin considering what Sam thought about the arrangement. Nothing good, surely. And who could blame her? To her, it must look like¡­ Except, of course he wasn¡¯t, only¡­ Then again, it wasn¡¯t like he and Sam were¡­ She was his friend, and he needed her, but that was it. Still, he didn¡¯t want her to come to the wrong conclusions about him.


    Feeling Sam staring holes in his back, Will focused on stirring the stew¡ªmore than was strictly necessary, really¡ªand resisted the urge to check over his shoulder. He was sweating profusely, and not just on account of the cooking fire, either.


    Sam had cleaned up a little too nicely for comfort, especially now that she was out of those terrible rags. Frighteningly enough, his hand-me-downs looked snug on her, despite the fact that he was neither short nor thin. She must have been eating about a cow a day since he¡¯d last seen her, considering how strong she looked. She¡¯d always wanted to be a superhero when they were kids, and now she certainly looked the part. Muscled and bright-faced, hair like burnished copper, a dusting of freckles across her nose. The very picture of innocence and strength crammed into one very solid package.


    She¡¯s exactly what the Frontier needs, Will mused, exceedingly pleased. I just need to get her to a decent level so I can start making use of her.


    He felt a sting of shame at thinking of her that way, like a pawn to be shuffled around on a board. But then, would it have been any better if he had murdered her and bundled her off to another world for his personal satisfaction? At least this way, he had an excuse. It was the world that needed her, not him.


    He did not sound convincing, even to himself.


    Will¡¯s stomach knotted harder, and he only barely stifled an anguished groan. He was not looking forward to the conversation he would need to have with her before the end of the night.


    At last the food was done, and Sam helped Will set the table, the two of them moving about each other in furtive silence as they placed down bowls and spoons and mugs and bottles. He hoped his face didn¡¯t look as flushed as it felt.


    Miraculously, Mongrel went from completely catatonic to sitting upright the moment the cauldron hit the table, like a saint rising out of his grave. He reached for the ladle, and Will slapped his hand away with a low hiss.


    ¡°I¡¯m not done yet,¡± he admonished, and held his hands out over the cauldron, palms down. Sam watched him curiously. ¡°Prepare,¡± he said, and the cauldron rattled as a ring of steam shot out the top and its contents simmered momentarily, then returned to placidity.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Will muttered, mentally kicking himself. ¡°I should¡¯ve had you taste it beforehand, so you could tell the difference. Oh, whatever.¡± He took Sam¡¯s bowl and began ladling stew into it, ignoring the reproachful look he got from Mongrel at the terrible injustice of not having been served first. ¡°Prepare is one of the Cook¡¯s signature skills. Very useful.¡± He put down her bowl in front of her, embarrassed that he had filled it nearly to the rim¡ªthough she did like her food, he remembered, and she would need to eat a lot while her body was integrating the influx of attribute points she had put into it. He did not know of another person who had allocated twenty at once before¡ªhe wondered if there were any dangers associated with that kind of leap.


    Sam cut herself a thick slice of bread and dolloped on a glob of salted butter, then took a bite of it along with a big, heaping spoonful of stew. She chewed forcefully, taking quick inhalations to cool it down some, swallowed, and had the spoon halfway to her mouth again before halting mid-motion.


    ¡°Woah,¡± she said. ¡°This is¡­ so good.¡± She smacked her lips thoughtfully, went for that second bite, and nodded with vigor. ¡°Fuck, what did you put in this? Nothing illegal, I hope.¡± She began elaborating further, but her speech soon became indiscernibly muffled by another mouthful of food.


    Will could not help but swell a little with smug pride. ¡°Prepare is a skill that heightens any edible it¡¯s used on to its extremes. Use it on something tasty, and it becomes tastier. Use it on something gross, though, and you¡¯ll only make it more gross. So only a Cook that can, well, actually cook can put Prepare to good use.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Mongrel muttered, having served himself a portion and begun slurping it down, ¡°but no one likes a braggart.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Of course, our local Farmer-Builder Mongrel makes all the produce¡ªthe high-quality ingredients he provides are equally important for elevating the home cooking around here.¡±


    ¡°Really damn good, as I said,¡± Mongrel corrected himself, puffed up like a rooster.


    ¡°Although,¡± Will amended, ¡°maybe I should give the credit to the boys, since they do all the work. Mongrel mostly sits on his ass all day.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called ¡®delegating¡¯, son,¡± Mongrel said with an indignant sniff. ¡°If anything, I have the toughest job around here, since I have to wrangle the whoresons. It¡¯s not an easy job, I tell you.¡± He wagged a knobbly finger. ¡°But, well, someone¡¯s gotta make sure this place keeps running.¡± He gave a weary, put-upon sigh, then comforted himself with another few mouthfuls of stew.


    ¡°Where are the little devils, anyway?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Won¡¯t they be hungry, too?¡±


    ¡°Oh, they¡¯ve got their own hut to themselves. They¡¯ve been given their supper already, so I reckon they¡¯re enjoying their mid-evening smoke session. Ah, but Number One and Number Two are keeping watch over the farm, making sure nothing goes bump in the night. They all take turns.¡±


    ¡°Does that kind of thing happen a lot? Bad things, I mean.¡±


    Will cleared his throat. ¡°Let¡¯s just say most people choose to live inside city walls for a reason.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Does that frighten you?¡±


    Sam grinned at that, and her eyes shone like feverish blue flames. ¡°What a silly thing to say!¡±


    ¡°Well, I understand your incredible talent for diving headfirst into trouble hasn¡¯t lessened any, but it might be healthy for you to cultivate some sort of self-preservation skills.¡±


    ¡°So I don¡¯t go and get myself murdered or something like that, you mean?¡± she asked, still smiling.


    Will nearly swallowed his food the wrong way, cleared his throat noisily. ¡°Ah¡­ yes. Something like that, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Will. I can take care of myself.¡±


    It seemed an insane statement to deliver with such utter confidence in a place like the Forlorn Frontier, but Will found that he believed her. Sam¡¯s talent for tangling herself up in every mess she came across was no joke, but she was equally adept at smashing her way out of them again.


    The way he saw it, the only reason she could charge through problems like she did was because she was too bull-headed to realize that she should be the one getting knocked down. Those kinds of thoughts just didn¡¯t enter her head. He wasn¡¯t sure what actually did go on in there, aside from¡­ thinking about her next workout, or something. He had never quite shared her enthusiasm for picking things up only to put them back down again.


    Nyx eventually came and joined them at the table, curling up cross-legged beside Mongrel on the kitchen couch. Will had made a point of not setting out a bowl for her, but she had taken the liberty of fetching one from the cupboard anyway. She took a helping of stew and two slices of bread besides, and drained two mugs of beer before pouring herself a third, burping against the back of her hand. Will ground his teeth, nurturing a cold resentment in the pit of his stomach. Demons did not need human sustenance to survive, but Nyx insisted on eating more than her share anyway. One day, he was going to find out how to hurt her kind, and when he did, he would wring her neck into knots.


    Mongrel made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring at her breasts, the bowl-to-mouth back-and-forth of his spoon slowing to a crawl while he studied her naked form, humming appreciatively like an art critic admiring a sublime piece of art.


    Nyx soon took notice of it, and tucked her arms back and thrust out her chest to give him a better look. ¡°See something you like, Matthew?¡± she cooed.


    Mongrel opened his mouth to reply, but Will cut him off. ¡°Mongrel,¡± he growled warningly.


    ¡°Looking is nice, but touching is even nicer,¡± Nyx continued, undeterred, without looking in Will¡¯s direction. She moved an inch closer to the ugly man. ¡°Go on, Matthew. I won¡¯t charge much for the privilege.¡±


    Mongrel looked down at his hands like a man at war with himself, the¡ªvery small, no doubt¡ªrational part of him trying hard to wrestle back his pathetically overdeveloped libido.


    ¡°Mongrel, you know what we agreed,¡± Will said sternly, trying to nudge his friend¡ªbecause that was, sadly, what he was¡ªback to sanity. However much of that Mongrel had ever been in possession of. ¡°No one makes any more deals with the demon. None.¡±


    Mongrel bristled, tucking his chin down against his chest. ¡°I know that,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I wasn¡¯t considering it or anything.¡±


    ¡°Of course not, Matthew,¡± Nyx agreed, sounding entirely too amused. ¡°I was just teasing.¡± She scratched him behind the ear with one long fingernail, and Mongrel swallowed hard while he tried¡ªand failed¡ªnot to appear affected.


    For some reason, Sam looked rather pleased about all this, nodding to herself with a secret little smirk before digging into her food with renewed vigor, heaping herself another portion that was barely any smaller than the first one he had given her. She really was hungry.


    She had forced down three full portions by the time she finally called it quits so he could begin cleaning up, and if he didn¡¯t know any better he would have thought she was looking around for dessert, the greedy guts. She patted her belly contentedly, and Nyx echoed the gesture. Sam shared a reluctant laugh with the demoness, and Will shook his head as he worked on scrubbing the cauldron clean. Despite her better judgment, she seemed to make friends with everyone she met sooner or later.


    Then the cleaning was done, and the bowls were dried and put away, the mugs left out so people could nurse a drink throughout the night. And suddenly there was nothing else for Will to busy himself with, and he knew that he couldn¡¯t keep putting off what he wanted to put off more than anything in the world.


    ¡°Sam,¡± he said, almost scaring himself with how serious he sounded. His breath hitched when she smiled up at him from her seat, and he had to take a moment to still himself. ¡°Would you mind if we speak in private for a minute? There¡¯s something important I need to tell you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± she replied quickly, running a hand through her short hair. ¡°What do you wanna talk about?¡±


    ¡°Would you go and wait on the front porch for me?¡± he asked, blowing past her question. ¡°I¡¯m just going to fetch some things¡ªI¡¯ll be with you in a minute.¡±


    ¡°All right.¡± She sounded a little more hesitant now, but she was already standing up, chair scraping on the floor. ¡°Just don¡¯t keep me waiting, tough guy.¡±

 Chapter 15 - That Awkward Moment When...

    Sam


    Will hurried off into another part of the house, and Sam was left frowning after him. What thing was he getting? Was it something romantic?


    Why would it be something romantic, stupid?


    Well, why not? It¡¯s my dream, so I get to make unreasonable requests.


    Sam went and sat on the front porch like she was asked. The cool breeze on her face helped still her nerves a little.  She leaned back on her arms as she gazed up at a night sky filled with an explosion of stars tinged pink and blue. The clouds had cleared away during the evening, leaving what felt like the whole universe on show just for her


    Sam was not used to seeing so many stars back home, with the light pollution and all. Getting to look up at them now, listening to the background hum of insects in the night air, a strange serenity descended over her like a warm blanket. She could have sat for hours taking it in.


    Her calm was shattered when something heavy landed next to her with a thump, making her start. A leather backpack, she realized, stuffed to the brim so that it bulged out, almost round. Will plopped down on the other side of it, rubbing at his always-sleeping eye.


    ¡°Say what you want about the Frontier, but it sure is pretty sometimes,¡± he murmured. Sam did not need to follow his upturned gaze to know what he was talking about.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she agreed, though she wasn¡¯t really paying so much attention to the stars anymore. ¡°What¡¯s with the bag?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for you, depending on how this conversation goes.¡±


    Sam felt a cold lump in her stomach. ¡°It¡¯s one of those talks, huh?¡± She supposed she had expected it, but she still wished they could just enjoy a perfect night together. She deserved that, didn¡¯t she?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how much you know,¡± Will said, speaking slowly as though choosing each word carefully. ¡°But you should know that I¡¯m responsible for¡ª¡±


    ¡°For talking Nyx into killing me?¡± Sam completed. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    He shot her a rueful smile; his face shadowed, lit only by ambient starlight and the narrow bands of gold slipping through the shutters behind them. ¡°She spilled the beans, then?¡±


    Sam shrugged. ¡°Not really. It wasn¡¯t that hard a mystery to solve.¡±


    Will nodded. ¡°I suppose not. Well, I won¡¯t make any excuses. I set this whole thing in motion, sent Nyx to kill you and bring you here, and now there¡¯s no going back. Whatever my reasons were, you have every right to hate me. If you decide you don¡¯t want to see me again, there''s enough money in that pack, along with other supplies, for you to live comfortably for a while.


    ¡°If you want to stay, there¡¯s a place for you here on the farm. Since no one else seems willing to take on the responsibility, I have decided I will save the Frontier, maybe even make it a decent place to live if I can.¡± He paused, looking pointedly away from her. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I can do it without you.¡±


    Sam studied Will for a moment, then opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. ¡°Before you give me your answer, I want to say one more thing.¡± He sighed, putting his head in his hands, voice coming out a little muffled as he went on. ¡°This isn¡¯t how this was supposed to go. I had it all planned out, you know.¡±


    ¡°You always did like your plans.¡±


    ¡°I love ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°Yes, except things never seem to pan out according to the perfect little schemes you cook up in your head.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Will asked, askance. He was looking at her now, the white of his one eye standing out brighter than the rest of his shadowed form. ¡°No, you misheard me. I said I love you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I love you, Sam.¡±


    She somehow felt hot and cold all at once, elemental forces rushing through her body to leave her a jittery mess. ¡°What?¡± she repeated. It seemed to be the only word her mouth remembered how to make.


    Will frowned. ¡°Are you fucking with me, or just deaf? I love you. I¡¯ve loved you since forever. Whatever happens next, I want you to know that.¡±


    Sam¡¯s mouth opened and closed like a fish on land, trying to make sound come out. ¡°Uh¡­¡± she stammered intelligently.


    ¡°I would have told you sooner, but I was too much of a coward at first, and it didn¡¯t seem right to put that on you after I got sick.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± Sam had wished for romantic. Now that she¡¯d actually gotten it, it still managed to take her by complete surprise.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not expecting an answer from you or anything¡ªI just wanted to get it off my chest. If you tell me what you want to do moving forward, whether it involves staying or leaving, I¡¯ll help you make it work.¡±


    Sam stood abruptly, not quite knowing what she was doing even as her body moved. With a firm kick, she punted the backpack off the porch.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Will called, watching as the overstuffed thing rolled off into the darkness. ¡°There¡¯s delicates¡ª¡±


    With nothing separating them now, Sam jumped on top of him, and he let out a soft yelp as his back hit the wood. Pressing her face tight to his chest, she wrapped all her limbs around him to squeeze him in the biggest hug she could physically make.


    ¡°Ow¡­¡± Will groaned.


    ¡°I love you too,¡± Sam whispered.


    ¡°Seriously, ow.¡±


    Sam squeezed him harder until his next complaint came out as an indecipherable, breathy gasp. ¡°You¡¯re so dumb.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°I hate you.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    ¡°Sam¡­¡± Will finally choked out, tapping her shoulder.


    She let up a little, and he sucked in a hard, shuddering breath. ¡°Fuck me,¡± he groaned. ¡°You never figured out how to give normal hugs, did you?¡±


    Sam peeled herself off his chest to grin down at him. ¡°I like the sound of that first part.¡±


    She could not see him blushing in the dark, but the extended pause implied it. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too much for you? Oh, boo-hoo. Five years is more than enough foreplay for me, thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°No, I just¡­ didn¡¯t think you felt that way.¡±


    ¡°Well, I do. I love you so much I wanna crush you into a little meatball and carry you around in my pocket.¡± She leaned in close so she could whisper in his ear: ¡°You made the mistake of bringing me here, and now you¡¯re never getting rid of me.¡± I wish.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    She felt his chest shift as he swallowed.


    ¡°I forgive you for murdering me, by the way.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very gracious of you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sort of wondering about something, though.¡± She released him, hoisting herself onto her haunches so he could sit up. He worked his shoulders dramatically, huffing and puffing as though he had been the victim of some terrible act. ¡°Nyx was talking about payment¡ªthat you had to give up a lot to get me here. What did she mean, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­¡±


    ¡°Your eye has something to do with it, right?¡±


    At the mention of it, Will began to scratch at his bad eye. ¡°Yes,¡± he admitted. ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it sounds, though.¡±


    ¡°What about your finger?¡± She took his left hand, prying the fingers apart so she could get a look at the pale nub where his pinky should have been. ¡°Is that related, too?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°The demon took them as payment.¡±


    A nod.


    ¡°Did she take anything else from you?¡± Sam hardly recognized her own voice, with how eerily calm she sounded.


    ¡°Look, Sam¡ª¡±


    ¡°What did she take?¡±


    Will sighed. ¡°You have to understand, there¡¯s a reason why shuttling someone from Earth to the Frontier the way I did is almost unheard of. It¡¯s a multi-step operation, and it requires bribing not just one, but at least two demons, since the Tower custodian must also be convinced to look the other way for a non-sanctioned arrival, not to mention ensuring that you would appear at the right location in the Frontier for me to pick you up.¡±


    ¡°I got dropped in the ocean right next to a band of slavers.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, that was the best possible alternative.¡±


    She clutched his hand tightly in both of hers. ¡°What did they take from you, Will?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°An eye, like you guessed. The finger,¡± he wiggled his nub against her palm. ¡°A kidney. Three ribs. And¡­¡±


    Sam¡¯s lips pressed together tighter and tighter with every word he spoke. ¡°And?¡± she asked.


    ¡°And a testicle,¡± he concluded, somewhat sheepishly.


    ¡°Let me see if I¡¯ve got this right. The demons yanked an eye, a finger, a kidney, three ribs, and one of your balls right out of your body?¡±


    ¡°More or less. Nyx was the one doing all the yanking, though. I suppose she handed Unger his cut after. There¡¯s no way for a human to re-enter the Tower once they have passed through it, just as there is no way for the custodian to leave his post.¡±


    ¡°Will, I don¡¯t give a shit about the logistics,¡± Sam growled. Standing up, she made for the front door. ¡°Oh, I am so going to snap that whore¡¯s neck.¡±


    ¡°Sam! Sam! Sam!¡± Will caught her by the wrist, trying to hold her back.


    She frowned at his grip, still not used to the sensation that she could easily pull free if she wanted. But she stayed put. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re angry on my account¡ªreally, I am. All things considered, though, Nyx let me off a lot easier than she could have. With what I was asking for, she could have demanded a limb or two, maybe more than that, but she made do with parts that wouldn¡¯t reduce my function too much. Most demons would have refused the deal outright¡ªin this whole plan, Nyx is probably the one who was facing the most risk.


    ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered, humans can¡¯t travel back up the Crossroads at all, and demons do so only with great difficulty. Even then, they¡¯re not supposed to. There are¡­ things, apparently, that patrol the Crossroads, punishing anyone who tries to interfere with the natural order of death and rebirth.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re taking her side in this?¡±


    ¡°I know how it sounds. I don¡¯t like having her bumming around the house either, but, well, all things considered¡­ she¡¯s done right by us. Truly. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s all part of some bigger ploy or whatever, but for the time being I¡¯m happy to let her scheme however she likes, rather than giving myself a headache by figuring out the thoughts and motives of a demon. And, again, it¡¯s not like we can do anything about her anyway, other than piss her off. In case I have to spell it out, we really don¡¯t need an infernal blood feud.¡±


    Will¡¯s one eye shone with such earnestness that Sam could not stay angry. She heaved a great sigh, and gently peeled Will¡¯s hand away before sitting back down next to him. This time, without a backpack to act as a barrier, she slid up against him until their shoulders touched. ¡°Oh, all right,¡± she said, cracking a reluctant smile. ¡°Whatever you say, Master One-Eye.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± Will muttered darkly.


    Sam snickered. ¡°Why? I think it¡¯s cute.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s really too bad then, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    They sat there a while longer, enjoying the stars. Sam put her head on Will¡¯s shoulder, felt the slow rhythm of his breathing. However strange this dream had been, she wished it would never end.


    ¡°What did she do with all your junk, anyway?¡± she eventually asked.


    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t care about the logistics,¡± Will murmured. Slowly, almost furtively, he reached up behind her back to begin stroking her hair. She couldn¡¯t remember him ever doing that before¡ªit wasn¡¯t the sort of thing that friends, even good ones, usually did to each other. It was wonderful.


    Sam stifled a yawn against the back of her hand. ¡°I don¡¯t. But, well, I might be a little curious.¡±


    ¡°She ate them.¡±


    Her eyes, which had been slowly drifting closed, suddenly came open again. ¡°Wait, she ate your ballsack?¡±


    ¡°Only one testicle,¡± Will corrected with a significant air. ¡°And the pouch was not included, thank you very much.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡ªhalf your ballsack, whatever. That¡¯s still obscene.¡±


    ¡°Jealous?¡±


    ¡°Maybe a little. Not that I want to eat your balls, but I certainly don¡¯t want someone else to be eating them, either.¡±


    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, it was about as sexual as a rectal exam.¡±


    Sam snorted a laugh, and snuggled more firmly up against him. ¡°Any other¡­ testicular encounters you¡¯d like to reveal?¡±


    ¡°All the pretty Frontier girls I¡¯ve kissed, you mean?¡±


    ¡°So more than one?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡±


    ¡°Are you making fun of me?¡±


    Will chuckled. ¡°Honestly, there¡¯s never been anyone. I guess I never really got over you. Well, there¡¯s no doubt that¡¯s the case, considering that you¡¯re sitting here now.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the cutest fucking thing I¡¯ve ever heard. You saved your virginity for me!¡±


    ¡°When you say it like that, it just sounds sad.¡±


    ¡°I guess we can be sad together, then.¡± She smiled brightly at him.


    ¡°No testicular encounters for you, either?¡±


    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m as pure as they come, baby.¡±


    ¡°Lucky me.¡±


    Not long after, Will announced that he was tired, and said that they could both use some rest since they had an early start tomorrow. Sam wanted to protest¡ªsleeping was the one thing she didn¡¯t want to do¡ªbut she couldn¡¯t think up a good enough excuse, and then it was too late, and they were back inside the house, and he was showing her the sleeping arrangements.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a guest room all made up for you,¡± he explained, ushering her through a door on the far right side of a short hallway. The room was fairly spacious, with all the basic furniture you¡¯d need and clean sheets and the same ugly puke-colored curtains that hung elsewhere in the house. ¡°Although, I suppose it¡¯s not really a guest room anymore since you¡¯re going to be living here. There are extra clothes in the wardrobe, but we¡¯ll have to buy you some proper ones soon.¡±


    Sam frowned at it all while listening to him ramble. ¡°So where are you going to sleep?¡±


    ¡°In my room. Why?¡±


    ¡°Show it to me.¡±


    Will¡¯s room was across the hall; identically sized, although it looked smaller because of all the clutter. The bed had not been made, blankets thrown in a pile off to one end, and the mattress was dimpled in the middle from wear. Additionally, there was only one pillow.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Sam said, nodding to herself. ¡°This will do.¡±


    ¡°You want to stay in the same room?¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s not too much trouble.¡±


    ¡°I mean, the bed¡¯s pretty narrow, and you¡¯re¡­¡± He made an airy gesture in her direction. ¡°Uh, not exactly dainty.¡±


    She raised a questioning eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest. ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m fat?¡±


    ¡°No. You are a somewhat terrifying hugger, though.¡±


    ¡°Enthusiastic.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Regardless, it¡¯s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you wouldn¡¯t prefer¡­?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure, and I insist.¡±


    Will looked like he was reevaluating some of his life choices, but eventually shrugged. ¡°All right, have it your way. But if you start hogging the blankets in your sleep, I¡¯ll Repel you through the nearest wall.¡±


    ¡°Threats only work when the one you¡¯re threatening understands what you¡¯re talking about, you know.¡±


    Will brought an extra blanket and pillow into the room, and Sam said goodnight to Mongrel¡ªpointedly ignoring Nyx¡ªbefore she and Will began preparing for bed. There were no toothbrushes, apparently, but he gave her a pot of charcoal paste that he instructed her to rub over her teeth. It tasted like¡­ well, charcoal.


    Then, suddenly, they were stripping out of their clothes. Will, the poor thing, insisted that they have their backs turned to each other, even though they had already seen each other naked¡ªor near enough¡ªso many times that there was really nothing dramatic about it at this point.


    Once she overcame the initial shock, Sam found that she seemed to be handling their newfound intimacy with a bit more aplomb than he did. It was only a dream, of course, which meant that there were no consequences, which meant that there was no reason for her to feel embarrassed.


    Down to their underclothes, she caught a glimpse of Will¡¯s bare torso before he turned out the last of the candles. So many scars¡­


    Sam found that they suited him wonderfully.


    Then they were under the blankets together in the dark, facing each other, wrestling for space on the narrow bed, and it somehow felt like one of the thousand sleepovers they¡¯d had growing up.


    ¡°Will?¡± Sam whispered, searching out his face in the blackness, feeling his stubbled jaw.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Will asked, voice thick as he completed a yawn.


    She quickly leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, hard and stiff and not particularly romantic, then jerked back again. Until that very second, she¡¯d had some half-formed plan of jumping his bones, but even a simple kiss was enough to make her all hot and light-headed.


    ¡°I love you,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Go to sleep,¡± Will admonished.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±


    Will was soon unresponsive, but Sam lay awake, nestled close to him, putting her ear up to his chest so she could listen to the slow rhythm of his breathing.


    I don¡¯t want to fall asleep, she thought. Not yet. Just a little longer.


    But his warmth was already lulling her to sleep, and despite her best efforts, her eyes began to drift shut.

 Chapter 16 - Waking Up Dead

    Will


    Waking up sometime after dawn, Will found that most of the skill fatigue he had accrued yesterday was gone, leaving him only a little sore. With Sam having thrown a beefy arm over his neck and a thick leg around his waist, Will had to wrestle his way out of bed, swearing under his breath. Sam did not stir through this, merely flopping over on her back when she lost her hold on Will and rubbing her abs in her sleep. His ear hurt from enduring her snoring into it all night.


    They had a lot to do that day, but he was not about to wake her. He guessed that she could use all the rest she could get. Although, he couldn¡¯t help but stand there and watch her for a while, tied up as she was in a complex tangle of her own blankets like a badly wrapped present. She had somehow slipped her undershirt off in her sleep and discarded it next to the bed, leaving her quite naked from the waist up. Keeping his eyes clear of her flat chest¡ªaside from a few innocent glances¡ªhe yanked a corner of bedclothes out of her balled fist to restore her dignity with.


    She was so very beautiful. And she was smiling, even in her sleep. He had always loved her smile.


    Will could still not quite believe that his plan really had worked, and she was really here, right in front of him. Given the way things always went in this fucked-up place, something should have gone wrong. Oh, a few little things had, he supposed, but all in all, it had gone as well as he could ever have hoped. And she didn¡¯t hate him, which was a plus. And she¡¯d kissed him last night, at the end there. She had kissed him, hadn¡¯t she? He hadn¡¯t imagined that part, right?


    Now I just have to figure out a way to tell her about her dad.


    Tearing himself away so he didn¡¯t end up staring all day, Will got dressed and left his room, crossing over into the kitchen. Number Five was just coming in the front door bearing a wicker basket of freshly gathered produce¡ªeggs from the chicken coop, tomatoes and lettuce from the vegetable garden, and various herbs from Will¡¯s own little plot.


    He took the basket off the chimp¡¯s hands. Number Five smiled broadly and held out a leathery hand, expectant. ¡®Been good?¡¯ he signed with his free hand. ¡®Now reward?¡¯


    Will sighed, digging through his pockets until he found a half-full packet of happy puffs, tapped two of them out into the chimp¡¯s upturned palm. When Number Five began to scamper off, Will called after him: ¡°Hey! Is your dad still asleep?¡±


    ¡®Washing,¡¯ Number Five replied over his shoulder.


    ¡°Ah. He¡¯s bound for the city today, then.¡± Mongrel only cleaned up when he planned on going whoring. Why he was only able to summon any propriety for ladies of the night, Will had no idea, but anything that got the odd little man acting¡ªand smelling¡ªlike a somewhat normal human being for a while had his full support. If anything, Will wished he¡¯d go more often.


    Assuming that Sam would be hungry when she woke up, he tied on his apron and busied himself with making breakfast. He cooked an omelet with a dozen eggs that would hopefully be enough for everyone, then chopped a salad with lettuce, chopped tomatoes, herbs, a bit of oil, and goat cheese. Lastly, he fried up a pan of sausages.


    Perhaps drawn by the smell of cooking, Sam soon shuffled into the kitchen, struggling to get her head through an unlaced tunic. Not one of the ones he had given her, Will noticed, but the one he had worn yesterday.


    Sam took a seat at the table, sleepy-eyed and yawning until her jaws creaked. ¡°I¡¯m all achy,¡± she complained, rubbing at one shoulder. ¡°It feels like someone beat me with a rolling pin.¡±


    ¡°Might be growing pains,¡± Will guessed. ¡°You just slotted in a lot of attribute points¡ªit¡¯s going to take a while for it to integrate fully with your body.¡±


    ¡°Riiight,¡± Sam grumbled absently.


    ¡°Hungry?¡±


    ¡°Extremely.¡±


    Will cast Prepare in triplicate to complete his work, plated up a big portion for Sam, then a more modest one for himself, and finally poured two glasses of cranberry juice before taking a seat opposite her.


    Sam began eating mechanically the moment ceramic hit the table, one hand wielding a fork while she rubbed the back of her head with the other. For some reason she looked concerned, and she frowned more deeply with every bite.


    ¡°No good?¡± Will asked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say, I uh¡­ don¡¯t remember all your favorite foods anymore. That¡¯s not my fault, though. It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s really delicious,¡± Sam mumbled through a bite of salad, pausing to force some sausage into her mouth so that her cheeks bulged. After swallowing, she added: ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d still be here.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Okay, let me ask you a hypothetical¡ªwhat happens when you fall asleep in a dream?¡±


    It was Will¡¯s turn to frown. ¡°I don¡¯t know that I¡¯ve ever been asleep in a dream.¡±


    ¡°Right! When you fall asleep in a dream, you¡¯re supposed to wake up!¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Maybe? I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a universal thing, though.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Sam chewed thoughtfully. ¡°Then you think I¡¯m still asleep?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You know¡­¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Like how this is all a dream and stuff. I mean, it¡¯s got to be, right?¡±


    Will let his head fall into his hands. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been thinking this whole time?¡±


    ¡°I mean, kind of?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not dreaming, Sam. You really did die, and you really did end up in this hellhole.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what the dream version of you would say.¡±


    ¡°Sam¡­ Seriously.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being serious!¡± Sam whined, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.


    ¡°Wait right there,¡± Will said with a sigh, ignoring Sam¡¯s questioning look as he got up and left the room.


    By the time Will had been to his bedroom and back, she had cleaned off her plate and had stolen half of his sausage, chewing idly on the end of it. He placed a hand mirror down on the table between them and pointed at it. ¡°There,¡± he said. ¡°Look at that.¡±


    Sam wiped greasy hands on her clothes¡ªhis clothes, damn her!¡ªand picked up the mirror, looking into it. ¡°Yes?¡± she said. ¡°What am I supposed to be seeing?¡±


    ¡°Can you see yourself?¡± Will asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And do you look normal?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes.¡±


    ¡°There you go, then. I¡¯m no expert on dreams, but I know you can¡¯t see your own reflection in a dream, or at least it won¡¯t show up right. There are other tests we can do if you¡¯re still feeling stubborn, but in short, you are not dreaming.¡± Then, after a moment, he added: ¡°Stupid,¡± before finally digging into his own food. What was left of it.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Sam asked, moving her face closer to the sheet of silvered glass until she was almost bumping noses with her mirror self. ¡°I¡¯m not dreaming?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been saying.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Sam, do you really think your brain is creative enough to come up with a scenario half this ridiculous?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s so mean! But no, I guess.¡±


    Will took a sip of juice. ¡°Not dreaming,¡± he said firmly.


    ¡°Not dreaming,¡± Sam repeated, trancelike.


    ¡°Jesus, finally. Are we over this now? You¡¯re really here, and this is really happening. Does that change anything you said yesterday? If it does, I understand.¡±


    Sam¡¯s face began to turn an alarming shade of red. Then, after struggling soundlessly for several moments, she shrieked: ¡°Of course it changes things! I said all that embarrassing stuff last night!¡±


    Will shrugged. ¡°I suppose.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I said that!¡±


    He didn¡¯t see what the big deal was, since he had said things that were just as embarrassing. He opened his mouth to mention that when Sam ducked her head under the table. A moment later, Will felt his feet get yanked out from under him. Before he knew what was happening she¡¯d rolled him clear onto the floor and had him in some sort of lock with her limbs wrapped all around him and an arm over his throat, his joints all screaming with pain.


    ¡°Now I¡¯ll have to kill you, then myself, and then no one will know my shame!¡± Sam squealed.


    Will fought a surge of claustrophobia, feeling like he was being constricted in the arms of a giant octopus. Knowing that he had no reasonable way to escape someone with her Strength, he forced himself to relax, shutting his eyes. Luckily, she wasn¡¯t bearing down on his windpipe very hard, so he managed to hiss: ¡°Sam, let me go. You¡¯re being a brat about this.¡±


    ¡°I kissed you!¡±


    ¡°You did.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I did that!¡±


    ¡°I did enjoy it, actually, if you were wondering.¡±


    Sam¡¯s hold loosened a bit, her feet unhooking from the insides of his thighs. ¡°Oh,¡± she said in his ear. ¡°You did?¡±


    ¡°I might even return the gesture sometime, if you would be so kind as to let me go this century.¡±


    Sam slowly unfurled, and Will affected indifference as he staggered to his feet, rolling his aching joints. ¡°Are we done with our tantrum now?¡±


    Looking up at him from her spot on the floor, Sam¡¯s face split in a sunny grin. ¡°Oh, my tantrum hasn¡¯t even started.¡±


    ¡°Wh¡ª¡±


    Sam rolled to her feet, grasped either side of Will¡¯s face to kiss him firmly on the mouth¡ªsloppily, all wet lips and scraping teeth¡ªbefore bumbling past him out of the kitchen. She bumped into Mongrel in the hall, who was running a hand through his thinning hair to get some water out of it, and she enfolded him in a big, crushing hug that lifted him off the floor and had him squealing like a little girl. Then she put him down, and Will padded into the hall so that both he and Mongrel watched her tumble off the front porch and roll across the green yard between the buildings.


    ¡°What¡¯s her damage?¡± Mongrel wondered.


    ¡°She thought she was in a dream this whole time,¡± Will explained wearily. ¡°I just cured her of that notion.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the ol¡¯ denial gimmick. Happens pretty often, you know.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°I did think she was taking everything in suspiciously good stride.¡±


    ¡°Could have mentioned that before,¡± Will grumbled.


    Mongrel shrugged with a crooked grin. ¡°That one¡¯s your problem, kid. This is why I like my women by-the-hour. No drama.¡±


    ¡°Classy, Matt. Really classy.¡±


    Will felt the need to step in when Sam began hugging one of the goats¡ªEsmerelda, he thought¡ªwho had slipped her pen. The she-goat was not impressed by the human¡¯s affection, idly chewing her cud while Sam clung to her neck, still prone on the ground.


    Will went and stood over her, hands on hips. ¡°Miss Darling? It¡¯s about time for Esmerelda here to get back to her friends, and it¡¯s about time for you to get up and stop acting like a nutcase.¡±


    Sam shot to her feet, and the goat let out a baleful bleat before tottering off somewhere with less humans to interrupt her meal. Sam¡¯s reddish hair stood out wild, and her cheeks were flushed, and she had a blade of grass caught at the corner of her mouth. Will pulled that out for her and flicked it away.


    She took him in another embrace¡ªmore softly this time, thank god¡ªand kissed him on the cheek. ¡°I love you,¡± she murmured. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d see you again.¡±


    Will stroked her soft hair, trying vainly to smooth it down. ¡°All right, I love you too,¡± he said.


    She laughed, and he felt her chest reverberate with the sound. Then her voice quivered, and she began to cry instead.


    Will had never been too good with crying people. ¡°Hush now,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re okay. Everything¡¯s all right.¡±


    Sam bawled and gibbered incomprehensibly into his tunic, growing steadily louder. Will kept trying to soothe her, but he didn¡¯t know if he was making things better or worse, and he felt like a bad person over the fact that her nearness was making him excited in all sorts of inappropriate ways. He had to shift a little to avoid poking her with something potentially embarrassing.


    She held him tight, clinging to him desperately, and wailed like a child. Feeling an urge to do the same, he cleared his throat and pushed it away.


    Then, as abruptly as she had started, Sam fell silent. She wiped her snotty nose on his shoulder before taking a step back. She was back to beaming again, grinning more brightly than anyone he had ever seen, which made it impossible to stay mad over the trail of mucus she had left on his clothes.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay now,¡± Sam declared, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. ¡°I¡¯m just happy.¡±


    ¡°Happy enough to start working?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± she said with a mock salute.


    ¡°Good. Then we begin immediately.¡±

 Chapter 17 - Cue the Training Montage

    Mongrel


    ¡°Aren¡¯t they just the most adorable thing you¡¯ve ever seen?¡±


    Mongrel took his eyes off the young couple cavorting in the grass and glanced over his shoulder at the demoness as she sauntered out onto the porch.


    ¡°I won¡¯t argue with that,¡± he muttered, and bit into the greasy sausage he had filched from an unattended pan in the kitchen. ¡°So sweet I think I¡¯m getting cavities. And I¡¯ve got enough of those already.¡±


    ¡°Poor thing.¡± Nyx patted his cheek, her skin unnervingly warm. He felt her claws scrape on his tender, freshly shaven chin as she pulled her hand away. ¡°Might I have a bite?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Mongrel found that his attention had drifted back to the children¡ªthe she-bear one was squeezing the poor boy to pieces again. Then, looking down, he said, ¡°Oh,¡± and offered up the sausage in her direction. ¡°Knock yourself out.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t sure why he couldn¡¯t look away. Seeing the two of them made an old, half-forgotten scar pulse in him, something he¡¯d really rather forget. It was quite aggravating.


    ¡°I''m unable to tell if Samantha is harmless or dangerous,¡± Nyx mused while looking out over the yard, chewing daintily with a hand to her mouth. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Um, not sure.¡±


    ¡°Matthew.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± He glanced briefly in her direction, blinking away a haze of memories.


    ¡°Why, you¡¯re barely leering at me at all! Are you sure you¡¯re all right, dearest?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too funny,¡± Mongrel grumbled flatly. But now that she mentioned it, he couldn¡¯t help but let his gaze drift down to her breasts, just for a moment. Her fault, really, for bringing it up.


    She looped a slender arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. The heat she gave off, along with her heady, cinnamony scent, was making his old heart beat much too fast. ¡°Seeing the two of them is making me feel broody,¡± Nyx complained. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to spend a little quality time with me tonight, Matthew?¡±


    Mongrel made it a point to not glance in the direction of those big, gorgeous eyes. ¡°I¡¯d love to, sweetness, but I¡¯m not sure I can afford your rates.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense.¡± She opened her mouth expectantly, flashing white, knife-sharp canines, and waited until Mongrel caught on and held up the sausage so she could chomp off another piece. ¡°Why don¡¯t we make a bet of it?¡± she added after swallowing. ¡°Whatever game you like. If you win, I¡¯ll let you have a night for free. I promise it would curl your toes into your heels and blow your brain out the top of your skull.¡±


    Mongrel laughed. ¡°How tempting. And if you win?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll donate your soul to me, of course.¡± She sounded offended that he even needed to ask. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, dearest¡ªI won¡¯t work you too hard.¡±


    ¡°I would love to, but I¡¯ve got business in the city. Probably won¡¯t be back until tomorrow.¡±


    Nyx pouted, fiery eyes smoldering as she stepped away and removed her arm from his. ¡°Boring.¡±


    Mongrel gave her his most winsome smile, bowed, and popped the last bit of the sausage into his mouth. ¡°Until the morrow, then, my lady.¡±


    The demoness turned her well-sculpted chin up at him, somehow managing to appear imperious despite being completely naked. ¡°If I don¡¯t get any appreciation, maybe I won¡¯t be here tomorrow. Maybe I¡¯ll have found myself a nice, handsome mortal who doesn¡¯t mind living a trifle dangerously.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I wish you would.¡±


    Nyx hissed, and Mongrel took that as his cue to leave, scampering off the porch while his hide was still in one piece.


    * * *


    Sam


    ¡°Where¡¯s he going?¡± Sam asked, letting her finger track Mongrel as he stalked across the yard toward the tall, red-painted stables standing on the right-hand side of the farmhouse. He gave a pair of sharp whistles, one pitched higher than the other, and before long two chimps came running to assist their master in whatever he was doing.


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s headed into town,¡± Will said absently. ¡°He sells some of the produce he makes to earn money for his drinking, gambling, and whoring fund.¡±


    Charming.


    ¡°What town?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°Sheerhome. It¡¯s more of a city, really¡ªthe biggest one in this part of the Frontier.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, can we go there?¡±


    Will grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s really not much of a tourist destination. I wouldn¡¯t recommend it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a good idea right now,¡± Will said, a little sharply. ¡°You need to be here right now, to focus on your training.¡± Seeing her indignation, his face softened. ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s not you I don¡¯t trust, it¡¯s the animals that populate this place. We need to get your level up a bit before I¡¯ll feel comfortable letting you off the farm.¡±


    Sam nodded, biting her lip. ¡°I understand.¡± Then she allowed herself a little smile. ¡°Did I happen to hear you say ¡®training¡¯ just now?¡±


    Will chuckled. ¡°I thought that would get your attention.¡±


    ¡°What kind of training?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t think I¡¯d let you stay at Level 1 forever, did you? We¡¯ve got to go through the basics of your Profession, and get you started on leveling. There¡¯s a lot to cover, and not a lot of time, I''m afraid.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we have a lot of time?¡±


    ¡°I''ll get there. Like I said, there¡¯s a lot for you to learn, so it¡¯s easier if we take it piecemeal.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±


    ¡°Good. Let me show you around the farm so you know what¡¯s where, then we can get started properly.¡±


    Will got Sam some hand-me-down footwear, and she followed eagerly at his heels as he wandered across the yard, pointing at buildings and explaining their purpose. They poked their heads into the stables, where Number Two and Number Four were strapping a harness on a long-eared donkey. Mongrel lounged nearby, leaning against a chest-high stall while watching his underlings work.


    ¡°This here¡¯s Zero,¡± Mongrel said, nodding toward the donkey. ¡°She¡¯s kind of like an honorary familiar at this point. You can pet her if you like.¡±


    ¡°Oh, can I?¡± Sam cooed, and immediately stepped up to the brown-colored animal with its huge black eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve never been this close to a donkey before.¡± Somehow, it felt almost equally as exotic as a chimp.


    ¡°She¡¯s a mule, not a donkey,¡± Mongrel corrected.


    Sam apologized to the mule and extended a hesitant hand to the beast. Zero sniffed at her palm, then began lipping at them. Sam giggled at the ticklish sensation, and stroked the mule up the side of her head. She seemed to enjoy it.


    Once the furry fellows with their task, Number Four led Zero outside by her bridle so she could be hitched up to a wagon filled with all sorts of things¡ªmostly edible ones. Number Two broke off from his brother and approached Sam, making nimble signs with both hands and wearing a querying expression.


    ¡°He¡¯s asking if you want anything from the city,¡± Will explained. ¡°Clearly, he¡¯s a lot more polite than his owner.¡±


    ¡°Hey! I heard that!¡± Mongrel whined, but did not care enough to look up from inspecting his nails.


    ¡°You were meant to,¡± Will replied.


    ¡°Thank you, Number Two,¡± Sam said and gave the furry creature a pat on the head, ¡°but I wouldn¡¯t even know what to ask for.¡± She could use a proper pair of boots, since the ones Will had given her fit a little snug, but that wasn¡¯t the kind of thing you could ask someone to eyeball the measurements on.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Will, however, had a list of things he wanted purchased, and offered a pack of cigarettes for Number Two and his brother to split between them if they carried out the task. The chimps accepted gladly.


    Then Mongrel set off with his mule and wagon, whistling as he walked alongside Zero with a hand on her neck. The chimps rode on the wagon, and were already passing a cigarette back and forth. Mongrel took into a wide, bumpy trail that led in among the trees, and he soon disappeared among their staggered lines.


    Will continued on, showing Sam the big crop fields downslope where wheat and oats made a carpet of shining gold beneath the morning sun. Number One wandered sedately among their rows, occasionally bending down to touch one of the plants with a greenish glow pulsing from his hand. Using a Farmer skill called Nurture to promote growth, Will explained. Because the chimps regularly treating the crops this way greatly accelerated production, they were apparently about to reap their second harvest of the year.


    Then there was the chimps¡¯ hut, which consisted of a single large room with bunks and hammocks for the boys to sleep in, but quite frankly the place stank even the from outside, and it looked a mess, so Sam was content with looking in through a window.


    Will showed off a chicken coop, with a gaggle of hens clucking and their red-maned rooster screaming angrily for the intruders to go away. Sam obliged, offering apologies, and Will instead took her out back of the farmhouse, where they passed a well ringed with stones and came to a vegetable garden, as well as a smaller one nearby which Will explained was a place where he grew herbs used in his work. It was filled with all sorts of beautiful flowers, a profusion of color.


    Will picked one for her, a little yellow one with slender petals. ¡°Celandine,¡± he explained, holding it between two fingers. ¡°It has several good medicinal properties. I use it often.¡±


    Sam grinned as she took it, and could not resist pinning it behind her ear. ¡°You were never a flowers kinda guy, were you?¡±


    Will shrugged, looking over his herb garden. ¡°I guess not. I picked it up for work, and somewhere along the way I began to enjoy collecting different herbs. Though, to be honest, Number One does most of the maintenance. I just plant them.¡±


    ¡°What do you do for work, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± The sour look that fell over his face told her that he was going to give her another evasive answer. ¡°I might be a Cook by Profession, but I¡¯d call myself more of an alchemist. I brew potions and medicines and things¡ªsome that I let Mongrel sell for a shared profit, and sometimes made to order items for specific clients. Like the local lord, for instance.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Sam said. ¡°But that¡¯s not why they call you ¡®Misfortune¡¯, is it?¡±


    Will¡¯s face darkened further. ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°Well, why do they?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a fun topic. Mind if we save that one for later?¡±


    ¡°Okay. But you will tell me?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Will said firmly. ¡°I¡¯m going to tell you everything, in time. I¡¯m just trying to do it in order, to sort of ease you into things.¡±


    There was also an outhouse at the back of the property, and some thirty feet off another small building made of cut stone, with a chimney sticking out of the tiled roof. That was Will¡¯s workshop, he explained, where he worked on his concoctions.


    ¡°Can I see?¡± Sam asked.


    ¡°Probably not a good idea. Some of the compounds I work with are toxic, and you¡¯re pretty clumsy, no offense. I¡¯d hate for you to accidentally ingest something lethal.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that clumsy, Will.¡±


    He just shrugged, smiling.


    ¡°All right. Keep your secrets then, dick.¡±


    After that he had them stroll past a woodshed on the left-hand side of the property that Mongrel used when he decided to actually do some carpentry, which apparently did not happen very often.


    ¡°That¡¯s about it,¡± Will said. ¡°It¡¯s only us out here¡ªno neighbors to worry about or anything, other than the occasional beast or bandit. Sheerhome¡¯s about an hour¡¯s walk to the west.¡± He pointed in the direction Mongrel had gone. ¡°Questions?¡±


    Sam held up her hand.


    ¡°Yes, the pretty one in the stolen tunic.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. How did you get to know Mongrel, anyway? Or is that a secret too?¡±


    Will shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not a secret at all, it¡¯s just not particularly interesting. Mongrel fished me out of the water and took me in, mostly so he had someone to do the busywork that the chimps wouldn¡¯t or couldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°So he was like your boss?¡±


    ¡°I guess so.¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s not anymore?¡±


    ¡°No, not really. Mongrel is clever enough when he wants to be, but he usually can¡¯t be bothered, so he¡¯s happy enough letting me manage the day-to-day around here.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s not because you¡¯re a higher level than him?¡±


    Will chuckled. ¡°Not really. A person¡¯s level is important here, don¡¯t get me wrong, but it¡¯s not an absolute measure of someone¡¯s worth or anything.¡±


    ¡°Why are you a higher level than him in the first place, if he¡¯s been here longer?¡±


    ¡°Leveling doesn¡¯t necessarily follow a linear progression. Like I''ve mentioned before, it¡¯s based on your progress and achievements within the activity associated with your Profession, both on a personal level and objectively from the Concord¡¯s point of view, so most people gain levels quickly at first, then plateau somewhere when they stop finding new things to learn or achieve.¡±


    ¡°Right. And as a Laborer that means, what? Lifting bigger and heavier things?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being slightly reductive, but yeah, more or less.¡± He motioned her off to the southwestern edge of the property, where the edge of the crop field transitioned into a patch of bumpy earth covered only in short-cropped grass. Tree stumps and broken rocks littered the area, some small as heads poking out of the ground, others almost the size of her entire torso. ¡°For your first bit of training today, you¡¯re going to help me clear the rocks out of this field so we can till the earth and expand our farmland.¡±


    Sam crinkled her nose. ¡°Look, I appreciate the vote of confidence and all, but some of these look like they weigh a literal ton. Do you really think I could lift those?¡±


    Will did not appear concerned. ¡°We won¡¯t know until you try. How many points did you put in Strength again?¡±


    ¡°Eight.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°Artie said that was a lot.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Artie, that slaver you nearly scared to death.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. Yeah, it¡¯s quite a lot. Depending on your Profession, people start with either eight or ten points to allocate total, so having eight in just one attribute is a nice start. Where did you put your other points?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Sam searched her memory for the exact numbers. It was all kind of a blur at this point. ¡°Eight in Strength, six in Toughness, and six in Dexterity, I think.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Will looked slightly relieved. ¡°If you had twenty points to spend, that means you did the vow properly. What abilities did you pick?¡±


    ¡°Those passive things? There was one called ¡®Tenacious¡¯, and one called ¡®Stoneskin¡¯. Then I got one for free called ¡®Healing Factor¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, all Laborers get Healing Factor. It¡¯ll make you recover faster from injury or fatigue. Stoneskin is a good one, but Tenacious¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°I dunno. I guess that¡¯s on me for not giving you clearer instructions.¡±


    Sam stuck her tongue out at him. ¡°Well, I thought it looked good. So, I¡¯m assuming that whole vow business is one of those things you¡¯ll tell me about later?¡±


    ¡°That would probably be best.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but was it really necessary for me to eat a piece of paper in the middle of all that?¡±


    ¡°It was really necessary.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t tell if he was messing with her or not, but decided to let it go with a snort. ¡°If you say so. Well, I guess I might as well get started¡ªbut you can¡¯t laugh at me if this goes wrong.¡± Rolling up the sleeves of her tunic, she began to approach the nearest rock, a mossy lump of granite that was about pumpkin-sized, and began to stretch in preparation of attempting to move it.


    ¡°Hold on just a second,¡± Will said, lifting a hand. ¡°Let me try something. Try not to think about anything for a minute, okay?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Just do it.¡± He gestured vaguely. ¡°Like, clear your mind or whatever. Count trees. That sort of thing.¡±


    Sam huffed, but did her best to follow the instructions, trying to think of nothing but an empty black void. Results were mixed¡ªshe kept thinking about Will, instead. It was impossible not to, with him standing right in front of her with that stupidly handsome face of his.


    ¡°Identify [aggregated attribute scores],¡± Will said after a few moments.


    Sam felt a little tickle skitter across the inside of her skull, making her shiver. She worked her jaw to try and get rid of it, but it disappeared after a second or two. ¡°What was that? Another one of your magic tricks?¡±


    ¡°Yep. It¡¯s a little technical, so don¡¯t worry if it doesn¡¯t make sense to you, but basically your attributes aren¡¯t the only thing that determine how well you embody those traits in reality. All sorts of other factors are baked into it, too. Let¡¯s take Strength as an example. There¡¯s your natural strength, as in what you had before you came to the Frontier. Then there¡¯s the Strength attribute points you put in, which modify that strength, like a multiplier. But there are other factors as well. I don¡¯t know them all, since digging into the guts of the Concord can be tough, and not best done by someone of my Profession, but the biggest one I know of aside from attribute score is something called an effort multiplier, which acts directly on your attribute score to determine how much you get out of your points.


    ¡°What it boils down to is that someone who works with their attribute frequently to improve themselves by their own merit will get more out of that attribute than someone who only relies on the Concord for easy power boosts.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Sam said flatly. ¡°Can I lift this rock now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to say that some of your aggregated scores are even higher than I expected, meaning your effort modifiers must be very good. You¡¯ve been working hard for the past five years, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Sam blushed a little. ¡°I¡­ I really tried. I didn¡¯t know why at the time, I just felt like I had to train.¡±


    Will grinned. He looked a little less tired when he smiled. ¡°Well, you must have done a great job to get numbers like this. I think I can say with confidence that between your effort multipliers and the extra attribute points from your divine vow, there¡¯s not many Level 1s in the Frontier who can top the raw power you¡¯re packing.¡±


    ¡°Aww, you really think so?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah, I do.¡±


    ¡°Heh. Nice.¡± After pushing herself for so long without any clear goal or hope of progress, finally getting some praise felt pretty damn sweet.


    With no further interruptions forthcoming, Sam was eager to test out her new strength after the way Will had hyped it up. Squatting low, she gripped the edges of the large stone and heaved, lifting with her legs. Her muscles quivered with strain, and she let out a sharp breath. The rock shifted, and she got a better grip underneath it, and soon it lifted off the ground, her arms trembling as she hoisted it between her legs.


    ¡°It¡¯s heavy,¡± she grunted. ¡°But¡­ not that heavy.¡± She couldn¡¯t keep the amazement out of her voice. She felt like a little girl. ¡°Where do you want it?¡±


    ¡°Good job.¡± Will clapped his hands with only a hint of sarcasm, then motioned in the direction of the treeline. ¡°Just somewhere over there, out of the way.¡±


    ¡°You got it, man.¡± Mostly to see if she could, Sam shifted her grip again, hauled the rock higher until it was resting against her shoulder and one side of her head, rough edges digging into her skin.


    ¡°Sam,¡± Will said warningly. ¡°Maybe you ought to start out slow.¡±


    Twisting her body, half-spinning, Sam hurled the heavy stone in a steep arc, shooting for the treeline. It landed about two thirds of the way there, twelve or thirteen feet off, with a heavy thump.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± she muttered, flexing rubbed-raw hands.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± Will observed.


    Sam flashed a devilish grin as she went off to roll her first victim off into the trees. ¡°Hold on. I¡¯ll get the next one all the way there¡ªwatch.¡±


    Will sighed, arms crossed. ¡°Well, I guess I can¡¯t complain about your enthusiasm.¡±

 Chapter 18 - Cue the Training Montage [2]

    Will


    Sam slowly picked through the field, rolling the bigger boulders and tossing the smaller ones. Will supervised. I guess this is what Mongrel must feel like, watching other people do his work all day.


    Sam was too absorbed in her task to say much of anything for a while, but eventually she stopped rolling a large rock halfway to the now stone-littered treeline and took a seat on top of her mossy charge. ¡°How come you¡¯re not helping out?¡± she asked. She wiped sweat from her forehead, only managing to smear it with dirt and plant matter instead.


    ¡°This is for your benefit, not mine,¡± Will said. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t have a bunch of points in Strength like you do.¡±


    ¡°You know, I was kind of getting that feeling when we were tussling, but why? I thought you were some kind of high-level so-and-so.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I couldn¡¯t put points in Strength even if I wanted to. There are eight different basic attributes in total, but each Profession only gets access to a combination of four. I started out as a Cook, which means I have Senses, Awareness, Empathy, and Dexterity. When you reach Level 10, you get access to one of four so-called ¡®derived attributes¡¯, mine being Haste. I also got to choose one of the Explorer¡¯s attributes for branching into that, so I picked Processing. I¡¯ve got my points pretty evenly spread among all of those except Empathy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re pretty lacking in the empathy department, not gonna lie.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very clever,¡± Will said flatly.


    ¡°No offense dude, but your attributes sound kind of dorky. There¡¯s a thing called Awareness, and you put points in that?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Her brows shot up, incredulous. ¡°All right, man. To each their own, I guess.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I just picked them at random, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you had some kind of master plan behind it all. But all I¡¯m hearing is¡­¡± She hopped up off her rock, crossing her dirt-smeared arms over her chest, ¡°...that I¡¯m finally stronger than you.¡±


    Will rolled his eyes so hard he almost saw his own gray matter. ¡°Sure, Sam. You¡¯re stronger than me. Does that make you feel good about yourself?¡±


    She grinned wide. ¡°Actually, yes!¡±


    ¡°Glad to hear it. Now, about those rocks¡­¡±


    ¡°Hold on there, mister! I wanna settle this right now.¡± Her smile began to take on an evil edge as she approached him. ¡°How about we have a good ol¡¯ fashioned wrestling match, like we used to?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a good idea, Sam.¡±


    ¡°Afraid you can¡¯t beat a lowly little Level 1?¡± With a mock pout, she tapped the single AP crystal on her left arm.


    ¡°No, not really. Let¡¯s get back on track.¡± He nodded toward the rock she¡¯d left behind.


    ¡°You¡¯re scareddd,¡± Sam cooed. She stepped uncomfortably close to him, periodically flexing and unflexing her crossed forearms.


    ¡°I¡¯m not so much scared of you as for you,¡± Will corrected. ¡°Us fighting wouldn¡¯t be a good idea¡ªyou could get hurt.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m quaking with fear.¡±


    ¡°Seriously, Sam. Give it up.¡±


    She let out a mischievous snicker. ¡°Or you¡¯ll do what, Master One-Eye?¡±


    And just like that, she had worn out the last of his patience. Fine. If she wants to know where she stands on the ladder, I¡¯ll show her.


    Launching into a Dash, Will slammed his curled shoulder into Sam¡¯s midsection. The force knocked her clean off her feet and sent her tumbling ass-over-head, coming to a stop with her back against the rock she had abandoned.


    ¡°Guh¡­?¡± Sam wheezed, gagging breathlessly as she curled up around her stomach.


    ¡°Enough to paint a picture?¡± Will asked. As he straightened out, he made sure not to indicate how much his shoulder throbbed from throwing himself against her body. Enhanced by both points in Toughness and the Stoneskin passive, she was nearly as hard as the latter implied.


    He knew even before Sam staggered to her feet that she wasn¡¯t done. She had that annoyingly stubborn streak to her that no amount of broken bones or skinned knees had ever been able to beat out of her as a kid.


    Recovering more quickly than he¡¯d expected, Sam came pounding right back up the same way she¡¯d just tumbled down. She jumped high, and he crouched low, holding up one hand and bracing his wrist with the other.


    ¡°Amp (Four): Repel,¡± he hissed.


    There was a sharp whooshing of displaced air, and Sam¡¯s eyes went wide as she was launched ten feet straight up; waving her arms and screaming, tumbling end-over-end. Will hit another Dash the moment it came off skill lag, shooting up as she came down, and his knee collided with her face, reversing her spin. She belly-flopped to the ground with a heavy thud, while he landed next to her in a crouch.


    Sam whimpered softly, but otherwise lay completely still, her face pressed against the grass.


    ¡°Understand now?¡± Will asked, patting her on the back. ¡°Strength isn''t the only thing that will decide the outcome of a fight.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you¡­¡± Sam groaned.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we take a break for now?¡± He stood, putting hands on hips while he waited for Sam to get up. ¡°With how hard-headed you are, I doubt that was enough to give you a concussion. Stop being dramatic.¡±


    Now both his shoulder and his knee were hurting.


    * * *


    Sam


    Sam had never known that it was possible to be both angry and horny at the same time.


    Sitting on the rock that she had become intimately familiar with at this point, holding a rag to her still-bleeding nose, there was no way for her to deny that Will had completely destroyed her. The difference between them was even bigger than the one between her and the men she¡¯d spent her time losing to on Earth.


    Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have riled him up so much, she thought glumly, working her battered jaw.


    But as much as Sam hated losing, she had to admit that there was something unreasonably sexy about a man who could fold her up like laundry if he had a mind to.


    ¡°Feeling any better?¡± Will asked. He stood over her, his expression a mix of concern and annoyance.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam said sheepishly.


    Kneeling, a little black void opened up by Will¡¯s left elbow, and he pulled a small bag out of it. After extracting a small clay flask from the bag, he stuffed it back inside the void and allowed it to disappear. He held the flask out to her. ¡°Here. This¡¯ll help your headache.¡±


    Sam took the bottle, studying it. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°A healing potion.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡±


    ¡°Herbs and things.¡±


    ¡°¡®And things¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Just drink the potion, Sam. I do this for a living, you know.¡±


    With a shrug, Sam uncorked the flask and emptied its contents into her mouth. Whatever she was drinking had an earthy, mildly bitter taste, but didn¡¯t go down any worse than regular cough syrup. Smacking her lips once it was all done, she handed the empty container back to Will to dispose of.


    Only minutes later, she did notice that her head was throbbing a bit less. Once she was good to go, she set to work again, working to clear the second half of the rock-strewn field.


    ¡°Some of these are all broken,¡± Sam said, inspecting a large boulder that looked as though it had been shattered into pieces by something very heavy. There were others that looked similar, and something told her it wasn¡¯t a natural phenomenon.


    ¡°One of the chimps went and hit those rocks with Demolish a few days ago to make them easier to move, but we never got around to actually getting rid of the things.¡±


    ¡°Huh, that¡¯s neat. They really are good boys, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them hear you say that. It¡¯ll go straight to those big heads of theirs.¡±


    After she finished with the rocks, Will took her back to the farmhouse and cooked her up a stir fry as a late lunch. Apparently it was time for a theoretical lesson. He talked while she ate.


    ¡°Let me tell you a bit about divine vows,¡± he said after an exhausting run-down on recognizing all the Profession symbols. ¡°You might have inferred as much already, but it¡¯s an oath a person can make with the Concord, forgoing something in order to get a special benefit. It can give a very useful advantage, especially since not too many people know about them, but each person can only make one vow, which means you have to make it count.¡±


    Sam nodded dutifully, though she was mostly focused on stabbing some fried peppers onto her fork. She¡¯d always been a big eater, but she¡¯d never not been hungry since arriving at the Frontier.


    ¡°You make a vow by pitching it to the Concord. You set the terms of a vow and a benefit, and the system lets you know if it accepts or not. Finding a vow with the optimal terms can involve some trial and error. I spent a fair bit of time working on yours.¡±


    ¡°Fhanks,¡± Sam mumbled around her food, already putting another forkful in.


    ¡°You¡¯re very welcome. Vows can be made verbally, in writing, by sign, or even mentally, but I thought giving you yours in writing was the easiest way to ensure you actually got it right. Unfortunately for you, that meant you had to eat the paper with the vow written on it to formally activate it.¡±


    Sam swallowed hard. ¡°It tasted like ass.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll imagine. I tried to specify the terms so you¡¯d get the double attribute points applied retroactively, but the Concord wouldn¡¯t go for that, so I had you make the vow before you picked your Profession instead, meaning you could still get your ten starting points doubled. You might honestly be the first person in Frontier history to start with twenty points. You can''t appreciate how good that is yet, but you will.¡±


    Sam shrugged.


    ¡°For reference, at Level 14, I only have 24 points total.¡±


    ¡°You still beat my ass, though.¡±


    Will gave her a slightly apologetic smile. ¡°Yeah. You did start it, to be fair.¡±


    ¡°You beat on women, William.¡±


    ¡°When they act like little shits, I do.¡±


    Sam flicked a pepper off her fork at his face; he caught it and ate it.


    ¡°Either way, our builds are quite different,¡± he continued. ¡°You can¡¯t take any skills because of your divine vow, meaning you¡¯re limited to only passives. That¡¯s not too much of a drawback, though, as Laborers have some of the best passives. It means your build will be heavily slanted toward being a powerful bruiser with a lot of sustain.¡±


    ¡°And you?¡± Sam asked. She scraped up the last bit of stir fry, chewed, and stared mournfully at the empty crockery.


    Sighing, Will swapped their plates around so she got what was left of his portion. She grinned winsomely at him, then dug in.


    ¡°My build is a bit more¡­ sprawling, you could say,¡± Will continued. ¡°I can make potions, medicines, and nourishing meals with my Cook skills, while also gaining a lot of speed and burst movement from Explorer, which allows me to be useful in a fight. Lastly, I''ve got pretty good intel-gathering skills, so overall you could consider me a well-rounded support type.¡±


    ¡°Have you made one of those vow thingies yourself?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Will replied, grinning. ¡°I¡¯m pretty proud of it, actually.¡±


    Sam rolled her eyes. ¡°Because?¡±


    He ran a finger over the line of thick stitches holding shut his droopy eye. ¡°I vowed to never open my left eye. In exchange, the range of all my skills is doubled. The Concord likes it when you make vows that are symbolically symmetrical. The extra range helps a bunch of my observational skills out, so it works out well that way.¡±


    ¡°Double range? Doesn¡¯t sound that special.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s better than it sounds.¡±


    ¡°Sure. it is¡±


    ¡°I beat you, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Snorting, Sam took an angry bite of food. ¡°Whatever.¡± She paused, chewing thoughtfully. ¡°I thought you already gave your eye to the demon bitch, though?¡±


    Will¡¯s grin widened. ¡°That was after I¡¯d already made the vow.¡±


    ¡°So you gave up an eye you¡¯d already¡­ given up?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s anything to look that smug about. You still only have one eye. And half a dick.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t give up half my dick.¡±


    Sam shrugged. It was useless to argue with him when he was in one of his pedantic moods.


    ¡°Anyway, my build is good, shut up.¡± He was pouting now. ¡°I spent a lot of time coming up with it.¡±


    ¡°Aw, dude, I didn¡¯t mean to hurt your feelings,¡± Sam said sympathetically, reaching across the table to pat the back of his hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure your build is great. It¡¯s not that edgy.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°What, what?¡±


    ¡°My build isn¡¯t ¡®edgy¡¯, what are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I said¡ªnot that edgy! I¡¯m agreeing with you!¡±


    Will looked like he wanted to throw something at her. Sam snickered into her food.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± he said, sighing heavily into his hands, ¡°skills can be a hassle to untangle, and I figured you¡¯d rather not bother with all that, so I thought this type of passive-only build would suit you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam admitted. ¡°I¡¯m not that into all the magic words people keep using. They give me a headache.¡±


    ¡°I made the right choice, then?¡±


    ¡°I reckon so.¡± Sam threw him a crooked half-grin, the other cheek stuffed with food. ¡°Thanks, man. I mean it.¡± It really did make her feel a bit tingly inside, to hear that he had spent a lot of time thinking about how to help her along. He¡¯d always been sweet like that.


    ¡°Well, that might be enough of a system theory lesson for now,¡± Will said, scooting his chair back to stand up. ¡°If I know you right, your brain should be hurting by now.¡±


    ¡°Moderately,¡± Sam admitted, and went to lick her second plate clean.


    ¡°All right. I¡¯ve got some reagents in my workshop that¡¯ll spoil soon if I don¡¯t make something out of them, so why don¡¯t you take an hour or two to rest up? The way I rung your dome, it might be for the best.¡±


    Sam snorted. ¡°You think that hurt? Ha!¡± She had been worried that her jaw might be dislocated, but it was probably fine. It did do this weird clicking thing when she chewed, though¡­


    Will tried to look stern, but he was unable to hide a little smile through the stony mask of his face. ¡°Well? Think you could amuse yourself until I get back?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir!¡±


    ¡°You might find one of the boys to play with if you look. Just keep in mind, they learned everything they know from their father, so they¡¯re pretty lethal behind a clutch of cards.¡±


    ¡°Got it. Shoo, now.¡± She waved vaguely in Will¡¯s direction as she threw her feet up on the kitchen couch, flopping prone. ¡°I haven¡¯t got time for you right now.¡±


    Sam settled in for a nap, but cracked an eye when she heard Will retreating so she could watch his ass on the way out. Not bad.


    Not baaad at aaall.


    * * *


    Sam


    Sam was pulled from a lovely dream¡ªinvolving a bakery filled with warm fluffy buns¡ªby the voice of her archnemesis.


    ¡°Hello, Samantha.¡±


    Groaning, Sam shook herself awake and worked herself into a sitting position. She blinked blearily at the demoness, who was sitting cross-legged on the tabletop¡ªthankfully, most of her unmentionables were covered up by a baggy red tunic.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just to chat,¡± Nyx purred, yellow eyes flashing. ¡°I want us to be friends, you know.¡±


    Sam laughed derisively.


    ¡°I even wore a shirt for you, see?¡± Nyx tugged at the linen fabric with the sharp nails of her thumb and forefinger.


    Rubbing her eyes until she could see somewhat clearly, Sam grumbled: ¡°Is that one of Will¡¯s?¡±


    The demoness clutched her neck in mock offense. ¡°Absolutely not! Just what do you think of me, Samantha!¡±


    ¡°Only terrible things, I assure you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, good.¡± Nyx breathed a relieved sigh. ¡°I was beginning to worry.¡±


    With no wind-up or warning, Sam threw a right jab at the demon¡¯s face. Her fist met no resistance, sinking through a cloud of dark smoke that collapsed back into a grinning, aggravatingly beautiful face the moment she drew it away.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Sam grumbled. ¡°I had to make sure.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no offense taken, dear. I find that mortals are simply unable to keep their hands off me. It¡¯s flattering, really.¡±


    ¡°Do you get off on annoying every single person around you?¡±


    Nyx gave a lazy half-shrug, leaning back on her hands. ¡°It passes the time, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever tried being nice? It might just agree with you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me gag, Samantha. I prefer to have other people doing that.¡±


    ¡°I hate you.¡±


    ¡°And I find you absolutely fascinating, dear. Can I touch your hair?¡± She was already reaching her grubby little demon hand out.


    Sam abruptly leapt up off the couch, weaving away from Nyx¡¯s grasp, and stalked toward the front door. ¡°I¡¯m going out!¡± she barked over her shoulder.


    The demon¡¯s mocking laugh followed her until she slammed the door shut.


    Vile, vile woman! And Will thinks she¡¯s one of the reasonable ones? I don¡¯t believe that.

 Chapter 19 - A Nice Bit of Unsanctioned Sightseeing

    Sam


    Since she didn¡¯t see anyone when she got into the yard, Sam figured she would have to make her own fun. Her head was feeling a lot better already, and she was raring to put her new body to a proper test.


    Deadlifting boulders is one thing, but what else is there?


    Looking over the property and considering her options, she had the idea to go for a run. It would be the perfect way to work off some energy and help take her mind off a certain despicable someone.


    With no other real paths in evidence, Sam picked the one she had seen Mongrel use to head west into town and started off along it. The trail was bumpy and circuitous, and looked like it might have been made by animal feet originally before human traffic had broadened it. But the crookedness of the path did not bother her, because it gave her a chance to see how deftly she could move. Beginning at a slow jog, Sam gradually quickened her steps until she was eating up ground at a frightening pace, leaping over roots and dancing around rocks with the rush of air howling in her ears.


    Faster, she thought, and faster she went.


    The trees became a corridor of smeared green and brown, passing by so fast that she could not observe the rise and fall of the landscape if she¡¯d had a care to.


    Sam laughed, and the sound was swallowed by the roaring wind. Her body had never felt anywhere near this responsive, this powerful. Before, no matter how hard she¡¯d trained, she had always been slower than she expected, than she needed to be. Now, it seemed to do what she wanted even before she had a chance to think it, moving around obstacles that she had barely observed by the time they slid past out of her view.


    It was pure bliss.


    A shuddering scream of anguish broke Sam out of her breakneck trance, had her skidding and stumbling as she tried to come to a stop. She ended up panting and bent-double with a hand on the trunk of a broad pine to steady her. Whipping her head around, sweaty hair throwing off droplets of sweat, she tried to figure out what she had just heard, and where it had come from.


    It hadn¡¯t sounded human, but¡­ it wasn¡¯t like any animal she had ever heard, either.


    The forest was too dense for her to make anything out more than twenty-or-so feet off the trail. Suddenly paranoid, Sam reached down and picked up a sturdy-looking branch to wield as a club, whipping it against the nearby pine to make sure it held.


    She listened for what felt like minutes, but the cry didn¡¯t come again. Straining her ears, there was only the rustle of pine needles and occasionally the scratching of a rodent or the trilling of a bird. Nothing untoward, certainly.


    Or¡­? Did that sound like¡­ footsteps? Was she imagining it? Maybe it was just¡­ trees settling, or something.


    There was a blur of movement, something falling out of a treetop right at her, and Sam let out an undignified squeak as she raised her improvised weapon to bat away whatever thing was trying to murder her.


    Her pounding heart did not slow when she realized that it was only a vested chimp, having landed on top of a rock beside her.


    ¡®1¡¯, read the patch on his breast.


    Sam began to lower her club, deflating with a long breath. ¡°Holy shit,¡± she said. ¡°You scared me!¡±


    The old chimp slowly put a finger over his lips, raised his eyebrows pointedly. Feeling another rush of alarm, Sam stifled whatever she had been about to say, teeth clacking as she snapped her mouth shut.


    Number One nodded, then motioned with an open hand for her to keep low. Sam immediately dropped into a crouch, and the chimp came to pull her over so they both stood behind the tree she had been leaning against. He peered around its edge into the distance, and she did the same, though she had no idea what she was looking out for. She wished that he could let her know, but she had no idea how to interpret those hand signs the chimps used.


    The chimp unslung a shortbow from a case on his back, pulled out a fletched arrow from a quiver attached to the same case, and nocked it.


    The ¡®footsteps¡¯ Sam had been hearing seemed to be growing louder until she felt confident she wasn¡¯t imagining them. The way the sound echoed through the forest made it difficult to pinpoint a direction, but she had to imagine it had its source where Number One was staring.


    There was a brief snatch of movement between the trees, then another. The chimp did not move at all, except to chew on the end of an unlit cigarette held between his lips.


    There was nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Time stretched on. Sam¡¯s vigilance was beginning to fray when, all of a sudden, something emerged out of the backdrop. Something that walked on two legs, its shoulders brushing tree trunks when it moved, upsetting pine crowns and sending needles rustling to the forest floor. Something enormous.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The creature was almost shaped like a person, but Sam would never have believed that it was human. Standing nine or ten feet tall, it was thick with blubbery fat and corded muscle, surely weighing at least as much as a large car. Its skin was a brownish-green that made it blend frighteningly well into the background given its size. Its head was lumpy and misshapen, with only a few stripy strands of black hair slicked to its tumorous pate. Thin lips were drawn back in a snarl of rage¡ªor maybe pain, she thought¡ªand fists like some of the medium-sized boulders she had just been lifting were balled tight at its sides. The creature wore only a putrid hide to cover its crotch, which swung and flapped when it walked.


    Worst of all, however, were the huge, gaping sores that covered the creature¡¯s body, especially about the torso and arms. They wept off-yellow pus that congealed like candle wax in countless little trails down its doughy body. Insects crawled in and out of these open wounds, having seemingly made their homes there. Wasps the size of fists¡ªa whole swarm of them¡ªbuzzed in a loose cloud around the lumbering behemoth. Occasionally raising an oar-blade of a hand to swat at them, the creature only managed to disperse them for a moment or two before they gathered back into formation.


    Holy fuck¡­ Sam thought, forcing back a wave of bile with a hard swallow. She had never seen anything half so disgusting in all her life. Both her lives.


    Number One remained stiff as stone, even stopped fussing with his smoke. The creature moved roughly in their direction, bound to cross the trail and pass them with only a few feet to spare.


    To their good fortune, the giant¡ªor whatever it was¡ªappeared to have too much on its mind to notice them. It cried out in a rough, guttural voice that shook the ground whenever it tried to scratch at one of its many wounds. Sam could not help but pity the thing, as it was obviously in agony, but the chimp¡¯s reaction implied that it would likely not be happy at seeing some tiny strangers cross its path.


    As it staggered past, upsetting trees in its almost blind shamble through the woods, the monstrous wasps that patrolled about their living home drew frighteningly close until Sam could make out the sheen of their mad kaleidoscope eyes and the iridescence wings that thrummed like small engines.


    Sam held her breath and squeezed herself against the bole of her beloved pine tree. One of the wasps hovered toward her, the size of a small rodent. Her eyes went wide as it landed on her forehead, feeling its legs scrape about between her eyes, the occasional buzz of its wings reverberating through her skull.


    Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck¡­


    The insect¡ªif something that enormous could still be called such¡ªstilled on top of her head, and she felt its legs shift as it readjusted itself.


    Slowly, slowly, Number One took his hand off the bowstring and reached out toward the thing.


    The wasp buzzed suspiciously at the appendage drawing near it, and she thought it was preparing to do something, could already imagine the feeling of its dagger-like stinger carving into her.


    Then, suddenly, some sort of box slid into existence around the bug, like a cage of bluish glass. Number One caught it as it began to fall out of the air, pulling it into his arms. The wasp battered itself soundlessly against the walls of its containment in impotent rage, but did not put a scratch on the see-through material, whatever it was.


    The giant moved on. To her great relief, the other wasps did not appear to realize that one of their comrades had gone missing, and soon their buzzing receded into nothing along with the giant¡¯s heavy footfalls, leaving the forest in serene silence once more.


    As soon as they were gone, Number One placed his cube of glass on the ground, stood, and drew back an arrow until the fletching brushed his cheek. For several moments, nothing happened. Then the glass shattered in a shower of shards. Before the wasp could move at all, the chimp loosed, and an arrow impaled it to the ground by its bulbous abdomen, gross yellow insect guts leaking out into the undergrowth.


    ¡°Ew,¡± Sam whispered.


    Number One shrugged. Drawing a long knife from the inside of his vest, he cut the scrabbling insect clean in half, then cleaned the blade against the grass and replaced it. He withdrew his arrow, inspected the edge, and cleaned it in the same way before sticking it back in the quiver.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Sam asked, realizing immediately that Number One could not answer.


    The chimp flashed several hand signs, and when it became clear that she did not understand, he sighed and put on a patient expression, as though dealing with a child. He held up both hands with forefingers extended so they looked like horns coming off his head, cocking a questioning eyebrow as he waited for her answer.


    ¡°Demon?¡± Sam asked, and got a head shake in reply. "Evil?"


    The chimp nodded, letting his hands drop.


    ¡°Monster?¡±


    Another nod.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got those here?¡±


    A shrug.


    Number One began leading her back along the trail, and Sam trotted sheepishly behind. He looked back frequently to make sure she was following, which made her feel like she really was an unruly kid who had gotten into some irresponsible mischief.


    At least I know what Will meant when he said there are worse things than slavers in these woods, Sam thought. She did not want to begin imagining the haranguing waiting in her near future.


    They made it back to the farm without incident, and Sam waited in the yard feeling suitably ashamed while Number One went out back to fetch Will from his workshop.


    Fortunately¡ªand surprisingly¡ªWill did not look particularly angry as he came wandering across the yard side-by-side with the old chimp. He stopped in front of Sam, and a packet of cigarettes changed hands between him and Number One before the latter hobbled off.


    ¡°You hurt?¡± Will asked neutrally. ¡°Aside from the brain damage, I mean. We can chalk that up to a preexisting condition.¡±


    Sam decided to swallow her retort to that, figuring that it was best to take her dressing-down with grace. ¡°I¡¯m not hurt,¡± she said. ¡°Sorry for leaving the farm. I thought it¡¯d be fine.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± She endured Will pacing around her in a circle, occasionally tugging at her clothing or lifting one of her arms. ¡°All right, you¡¯re good.¡±


    Sam blinked at him as he stood back. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be a bit more angry with me for running off.¡±


    He cocked his head in a sort of shrugging gesture. ¡°Nah, it was my bad. I didn¡¯t explicitly tell you not to leave the farm, after all.¡±


    ¡°You did say it was dangerous, though.¡±


    ¡°I did. But I should have guessed that words like ¡®dangerous¡¯ would only activate the contrarian in you.¡±


    Sam folded her hands together, going small. ¡°Sorreee.¡±


    ¡°It''s okay. Let¡¯s consider it a learning opportunity. Now you know why it¡¯s not a good idea for you to leave this place yet, right?¡±


    ¡°Yessirrr.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±

 Chapter 20 - The Nail That Sticks Out

    Sam


    After her encounter with the monster¡ªa troll, Will had called it¡ªtraining was kept light for the rest of the day. Will had her dig some tree stumps out of the ground with an axe and an iron spit, then they called it quits.


    Sam had a much easier time falling asleep that night, despite throbbing bruises and pangs of growing pain. Now that she knew she definitely wasn¡¯t in a dream, she found that she felt too awkward to initiate anything with Will, even though she badly wanted to kiss him. She settled for running her fingers over the scars on his chest, which he did not seem to mind.


    Mongrel returned from his trip to Sheerhome in the morning, interrupting breakfast by charging into the kitchen with an expression that could curdle milk.


    ¡°You won¡¯t believe this!¡± he shrieked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure I won¡¯t,¡± Will sighed without looking up from his food. ¡°Good morning to you too, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, now listen to this; Annie went and quit on me!¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Will cried, his one eye widening in pretend shock. Then, in a more dull voice, he said: ¡°Who¡¯s Annie?¡±


    Mongrel was outraged at this despicable lack of common knowledge, and looked around the table for support. When he received none aside for a vaguely apologetic shrug from Nyx, he huffed angrily. ¡°Only my favorite working girl at the Red House!¡±


    When it became clear that he was expecting further prompting, Will sighed, then obliged: ¡°Right, of course, your favorite prostitute. How could I forget. What about her, Matt?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t like to be called prostitutes,¡± Mongrel corrected with a wagging finger, then pulled out a chair to drape himself bonelessly over.


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, Annie went and got married to some Trader from Octant Seven and quit the business, can you believe it?¡±


    ¡°I sure can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I had to settle for Georgina! She¡¯s a shrew!¡±


    ¡°Oh dear. Well, I¡¯m glad you survived that horrible ordeal.¡±


    Mongrel huffed, crossing skinny arms atop a round belly. ¡°You people are all heartless. I really loved that girl, you know.¡±


    ¡°Aw, poor thing,¡± Nyx murmured. She hopped up on the table, tiptoed deftly around plates and mugs, and dropped down in Mongrel¡¯s lap. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Matthew. I know how you mortals love your love.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t encourage him,¡± Will muttered into his food.


    ¡°Please encourage me,¡± Mongrel whined. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to kill myself.¡±


    ¡°There, there,¡± the demoness purred, giving his chin a scratch. She sounded so aggressively sincere that she looped around again to sounding sarcastic.


    After breakfast, Will took Sam out into the yard, explaining that she was ready to begin training in earnest now that they had at least established a baseline for her abilities and she had gotten used to the way her improved body functioned.


    He tossed something at her that had been stood against one of the porch pillars, and she caught it on reflex. It was a long wooden dowel¡ªsanded smooth and almost perfectly cylindrical¡ªthat fit well in her hand.


    ¡°Practice sword,¡± he elaborated before she could ask the question.


    ¡°You want me to train with swords?¡±


    ¡°More or less.¡± He motioned to one of the chimps, Number Three, who had lined up on the other side of the open space between the cluster of buildings. ¡°We¡¯re going to have you practice against Number Three here. Keep going until you¡¯re able to beat him.¡±


    ¡°Wait, where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got work of my own. There¡¯s not much to supervise here, so I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine on your own.¡±


    ¡°What if I hurt him?¡±


    Number Three grinned, and Will shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. Mongrel has made the boys into familiars, which means they don¡¯t exactly work like regular animals anymore. A familiar only dies if its master does, so even if you knock Number Three¡¯s head off he¡¯ll come back in a day or two. Probably a bit pissed off, but otherwise perfectly all right.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Sam spun her dowel, testing its weight. ¡°What if he hurts me?¡± She noticed that Number Three was hefting a heavy wooden mallet that looked like it might easily crack someone¡¯s skull open, and the chimp seemed eager to use it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that, either. Between your Stoneskin passive and your points in Toughness, he shouldn¡¯t be able to hurt you too bad. Just come fetch me if he hits you on the head hard enough that you go blind or start throwing up.¡±


    ¡°Will¡ª¡±


    ¡°Have fun!¡±


    Will strutted off around the side of the farmhouse, soon slipping out of sight, and Number Three took that as the bell being rung. He hobbled toward her, surprisingly quick despite his stiff bow legs, swinging the mallet over his head with one hand and knuckling the ground with the other.


    ¡°All right, let¡¯s¡ª¡±


    Number Three let out a howling war cry and dove for Sam, swinging his weapon in a downward arc. She stepped back and felt a whoosh of air as the blocky wooden head passed just clear of her nose and hit the ground between her legs. Realizing that there was no way for her to beg off this task, she raised her own glorified stick as she retreated across the yard, catching a second blow that rattled her arms with the force of it.


    Number Three was relentless, swinging his mallet and swiping with his off-hand so that Sam was forced to cede ground until she was backed up all the way to the woodshed. Kicking off the wall, she ducked under a horizontal hammer sweep and brought her own weapon to bear, but the chimp caught the dowel in his fist to divert her attack and laughed a shrieking laugh.


    At least he wasn¡¯t able to pull it out of her grasp, grunting in annoyance when he tried. But then he abruptly let go, which had Sam stumbling. He stayed right on top of her, hooking the back of a leg with his mallet to flip her onto the ground, then bringing the heavy flat down square on her head, which had her seeing double and staggering drunkenly when she tried to stand up, forced to ask for a short break.


    After what felt like an endless series of sparring sessions, Sam came to the conclusion that Number Three was the most cruel of the boys, taking great pleasure in knocking her down and laughing mockingly whenever she was too weak to continue.


    It didn¡¯t help that his brothers had all taken off work for the day to come watch, smoking on the porch while signing to each other and snickering.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Luckily, Sam was well familiar with humiliation. It wasn¡¯t that it didn¡¯t bother her; rather the opposite¡ªeach failure stoked a fire in her, fueled her to try harder.


    So she kept going.


    By the time Will returned in the afternoon to let her off, she was battered beyond belief, feeling like she¡¯d been hit by a car that had then backed over her a few times for good measure. He offered an arm to help her inside, and placed out an array of little potion bottles on the kitchen table that she had to drink before she was allowed to start on her dinner.


    ¡°It¡¯ll take the edge off the pain and help with your recovery,¡± Will explained. Sam found that her hands were too shaky and raw to work properly and he helped her cut up her food so she could eat.


    ¡°That was awful,¡± Sam said, feeling sorry for herself. She was hardly even hungry. ¡°I barely landed a single hit.¡±


    ¡°Number One said you did well,¡± Will pointed out.


    ¡°He did?¡± Number One was her favorite of the chimps, not least because he had saved her ass during the troll incident.


    Will nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    That made her feel a little better.


    Sam decided that her arms were too weak to operate at all, which forced Will to feed her. She¡¯d earned that much, with the day she¡¯d had.


    ¡°Sorry for going so hard on you right off the bat,¡± he said, feeding her a bit of mashed potato.


    ¡°No!¡± Sam said quickly. ¡°Don¡¯t hold back for my sake. I can take it.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°I figured you¡¯d say that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do better tomorrow.¡± It was a promise to herself as much as anyone else.


    * * *


    Sam was so exhausted when she went to bed that night that she forgot to feel nervous about sleeping in the same bed as Will, passed out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She felt a little better when she woke up, but her body was still a wreck.


    She did fare better during the next day of practice sparring. Made familiar with Number Three¡¯s aggressive fighting style by having it literally and thoroughly beaten into her, she was able to better anticipate his attacks. Additionally, with such a wanton focus on offense, the chimp often left gaps in his defense, letting Sam get a sharp poke in with her stick every now and then.


    The wooden sword was unfamiliar to her¡ªshe had never practiced with weapons before, so she wasn¡¯t sure what stance to keep or how to leverage her sword other than the most obvious swinging and jabbing movements. When the dowel eventually broke into two splintered halves during a clash with Number Three¡¯s mallet, she decided not to ask for a replacement. Fists and feet had always been good enough for her, so why change anything now?


    Despite her decreased range, she immediately found that her performance improved without a weapon. Focusing on slipping and weaving, she had become more fearless of the wicked mallet after feeling its sting hundreds of times at this point, and she began to be able to catch or divert it with her palms. Every once in a while, she managed to give the chimp a good solid smack in the face, which was more satisfying than she cared to admit. Maybe she would have felt bad about hitting an animal if he wasn¡¯t such a sore winner.


    Only a few rounds after she had broken her stick, in the middle of rolling away from an attack, Sam felt a flash of impressions pop into her head.


    [Congratulations! You have reached Level 2!]


    The distraction of it caused her to take a mallet to the side of the head, but Will praised her at dinner, so it was more or less worth it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different, though,¡± Sam said, slumped into her seat like a corpse.


    ¡°You need to wait until you fall asleep,¡± Will explained, patiently holding up a spoonful of stew for her to inch her mouth toward. ¡°Then you¡¯ll meet the Concord Ghost, and he¡¯ll let you allocate your level-up rewards.¡±


    ¡°Concord Ghost?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s like some kind of system administrator. You¡¯ll see. As far as I know he doesn¡¯t actually have a name, so people call him the Ghost.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s some kind of demon, then? Like Unger?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but I don¡¯t think so. He might just be some kind of ethereal manifestation created by the system.¡±


    ¡°Spooky.¡±


    ¡°For Level 2, you¡¯re going to get an extra upgrade point to spend on unlocking a new passive or add a rank to an existing one. For Level 3 you¡¯ll be getting more attribute points¡ªfour instead of the usual two, mind you¡ªand it¡¯ll switch back and forth like that every other level. Ten, fifteen, and twenty are special, but you don¡¯t need to worry about that right now.¡±


    ¡°All right. Any suggestions for what I should pick?¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t put another rank into Tenacious.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It sucks, Sam.¡±


    ¡°What! No it doesn¡¯t! It said something about not being able to get knocked out.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, exactly. Usually something that hits you hard enough to knock you out would probably kill you outright anyway, so what¡¯s the point?¡±


    Will had no idea what he was talking about, but Sam sensed that she wasn¡¯t going to convince him of anything, so she allowed him to continue living in delusion.


    ¡°Something like Shock Absorption or Heat Resistance would probably be good options,¡± Will suggested. ¡°Shock Absorption will let you protect your internals better. Stoneskin isn¡¯t very good at mitigating concussive damage, since it''s more for diverting bladed weapons and such. Heat Resistance is good for countering Spark builds. They¡¯re quite common, so you¡¯re bound to get on the wrong end of one sooner or later. That being said, another rank in Stoneskin can¡¯t hurt either.¡±


    ¡°Got it, chief.¡±


    Sam was a little apprehensive to fall asleep that night after what Will had told her about ghosts and stuff, but she was too tired to stay awake long anyway. As soon as her eyes fell shut, they opened again, and she found herself standing in¡­ a library, of all things.


    I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve been in one of these since I was a kid, Sam thought as she took in her surroundings. I remember it used to really annoy me when Will insisted on reading all these books while I was over instead of actually hanging out. Like I was just some kind of inconvenience to him!


    She stood in the very center of a large, vaulted chamber with stone walls and thick support pillars, the intricate floor pattern running so that it converged into a circle of whirling designs right under her feet.


    Countless shelves lined the walls, filled with old volumes whose cloth-bound spines made a faded rainbow tapestry. More bookshelves covered parts of the open floor plan as well, grouped into different sections. Tall, fogged-up windows running dozens of feet from the floor almost up to the arched ceiling let in stark white light.


    Sam turned and turned, but couldn¡¯t see any doors. Wherever she was, she was stuck here.


    Directly in front of her was a help desk shaped like a crescent moon, lit by a single yellow lamp that naturally drew the eye with how washed-out everything else appeared. A tall figure stood behind the desk. Sam could not quite begin to make out its features, even as she walked closer. It was clad in dark robes tossed by a wind that did not exist, sleeves coming down past its hands, and a drawn hood plunged the face beneath into near-perfect darkness, leaving only a vague outline of a head-like silhouette visible.


    Even once she put her hands on the help desk to stare up into the person¡¯s face, she could not make out any specific features. The darkness was too complete, looking almost artificial.


    ¡°You¡¯re the Ghost, I guess,¡± Sam said.


    The figure seemed to nod almost imperceptibly.


    She held out her hand for him to shake. When he did not take it, she eventually let it drop. Sighing, she went on. ¡°All right, so what do I do here?¡±


    The Ghost waved a voluminous sleeve, and a large tome appeared in the air between them, causing Sam to jump back when it thumped onto the desk. It opened on its own with a crackling of ancient leather, revealing pages that at first appeared blank, but began to form symbols in ink that gradually darkened.


    [Choose.]


    The instruction buzzed around inside her skull as well as on the page, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Before she was able to ask what she was supposed to choose, exactly, the squiggles in the book continued to shift, forming letters she was able to read. It was a list of abilities much like the one Unger had presented her with in the Tower, and as she flipped the pages she found that it continued on for a while, before abruptly terminating in the middle of a page.


    Sam could probably have spent the whole night reading over the abilities and their descriptions, but she didn¡¯t see the point in worrying too much about it. Given how badly Number Three had been battering her for the past three days, she thought that something to alleviate that might be the best way to go, so she went ahead and picked one of the passives Will had suggested to her; Shock Absorption.


    Shock Absorption (_)


    Tier: 3.


    Requirements: Builder, Entertainer, or Laborer.


    Type: Constant.


    Description: Your body is better equipped to withstand impacts and concussive forces. Suitable for work in hazardous environments or around heavy equipment.


    She placed her finger over the entry on the page, and looked to the Ghost. He inclined his head slightly, and Sam was flashbanged with another message, arriving with the same suddenness as the others.


    [Ability selection accepted.]


    [Goodbye.]


    Right. So much for customer service, I guess.


    Before Sam could so much as wave a farewell, the library seemed to collapse in on itself, walls and ceiling drawn toward her in distorted spaghetti strings until it was all a mess of color and light. It closed in on her, enfolded her, wrapped her up like a mummy, and darkened until everything was black.

 Chapter 21 - Aint That a Kick in the Head

    Will


    Will felt a little bit bad about throwing Sam in the deep end without giving her much time to acclimate¡ªhowever, as he had expected, it didn¡¯t take her very long to rise to the challenge.


    He made sure to remove himself from the process as much as possible. He wanted her to figure things out on her own, so she wouldn¡¯t get into the habit of relying on him to solve everything for her. There would come a time when she would be expected to achieve great things, and she couldn¡¯t do that while clinging to his apron strings.


    Number One¡ªthe only one of the chimps he really trusted to give an accurate account¡ªcontinued to provide updates on Sam¡¯s progress. Mongrel also added his own commentary at times, but Will found his word a good deal less reputable than that of his servant.


    Will actually did have a fair bit of work to get done if he wanted to finish the next batch of ointment in time for Mongrel to hand it off to the city merchants by the appointed date. That specific ointment of calendula and comfrey was one of his more popular products, mostly on account of the fact that it was a good topical remedy for all sorts of STD infections. Needless to say, diseases of that nature that ran absolutely rampant in a squalid cesspit like Sheerhome. Mixing and Preparing batches of the same bland, whitish paste each day was not exactly inspired work, but at least it netted him a steady income.


    Despite his commitments, Will could not help but sit down with the little audience that gathered on the porch to watch Sam on the morning of the third day. Apparently, she had spent her Level 2 upgrade point on Shock Absorption, which was probably the best choice.


    The rest of the chimps were also gathered to watch, along with their master. Even Nyx was there, offering insincere encouragements to the challenger while wearing a mocking sneer.


    Number Four was the only one not in attendance. Will asked Mongrel about it, but the strange little man just cracked a secretive smirk and tapped the side of his nose.


    That bastard¡¯s planning something, isn¡¯t he? Will thought warily. He wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to know what it was.


    Sam¡¯s body was a patchwork of welts and bruises under her clothes at this point. One of her eyes had nearly swollen shut, while the other was completely bloodshot. The cream he had applied to take away the swelling last night had only helped a little.


    Despite the extreme punishment she had taken, she did not let it slow her at all, nor did it stop her from cracking a big grin and sketching out a stiff bow for her audience.


    Number Three was gibbering and screaming and pounding his mallet on the ground, impatient to get started with the thrashing. Will halted the proceedings, however, by calling Sam over to have a word with her.


    ¡°You¡¯re not using the training weapon I gave you,¡± he observed.


    Sam clapped her hands together, empty except for the bloody bandages she had wrapped around them, and gave a sheepish laugh. ¡°Yeah, sorry¡ªI kinda broke it.¡±


    ¡°Mongrel can make you another one, you know.¡±


    ¡°Of course I can,¡± Mongrel agreed. ¡°Number One, make her another stick.¡±


    The old chimp shot his master a sour look, but began to rise all the same. Mongrel immediately flopped onto his side to spread out across the spot Number One had occupied, letting out a contented sigh.


    ¡°Oh, thanks, but it¡¯s all right!¡± Sam replied. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m into all this sword business. My hands work just fine for me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you need more practice,¡± Will admonished. ¡°There are going to be people out there who want to make you very dead, and they¡¯re not going to be using wooden weapons. You don¡¯t want to walk into that kind of fight with just your fists and a can-do attitude, trust me.¡±


    Sam¡¯s smile took on a playful edge, and her eyes twinkled despite how messed-up they were. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see who¡¯s right eventually, then.¡± She turned, and strutted back out into the yard without waiting for a reply.


    ¡°Stubborn,¡± Will sighed, rubbing at his bad eye.


    Mongrel, who had taken on the role of referee, whistled sharply to signal the start of the first bout. The two fighters ran at each other, clashed, and danced apart again. The difference made by Sam¡¯s new passive became evident almost immediately when she took a hard knock on the head and only stumbled slightly from the blow without breaking her stride. She retaliated with an uppercut that caught Number Three on the chin and sent him reeling.


    ¡°She¡¯s got a hard noggin, I¡¯ll give her that,¡± Mongrel hummed approvingly.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s not too hard when there¡¯s nothing but rocks and protein powder in there,¡± Will grumbled, though his tone was no-less fond.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The chimps started oohing and aahing and signing rapidly to each other once Sam got their brother on the back foot, turning his weapon aside with a palm or an elbow whenever he tried to bring it to bear, and following up with cautious but steady retaliations of punches and kicks to keep him reeling.


    Number Three screamed in frustration. He pivoted on his back foot, refusing to retreat any further, and Sam caught him with a jab that snapped his head back. The chimp came back with a one-handed downward swing that Sam easily sidestepped, moving in for a grapple.


    But Will caught the signs Number Three was weaving with his free hand. When the mallet hit the ground, a web of cracks shot through the earth, and it shook and shattered into fine pieces. Sam slipped on the suddenly treacherous ground with a yelp, and Number Three brought his weapon back up to catch her on the chin with a triumphant roar.


    Still struggling to keep her footing, Sam toppled onto her back, and then the chimp was on top of her. The next minute consisted of fairly one-sided whaling until Mongrel declared that the bout was over and instructed the fighters to reset. Sam rolled to her feet, spat blood, and trotted over to her side of the yard, a whole new constellation of bruises already darkening to join the rest. Her face had taken on a grimly determined set, but she still clung to a stubborn smile.


    Sam had always been good at getting herself into fights, and it had always pissed people off the way she could take a hit to the face¡ªor three, or ten¡ªand still be grinning like an idiot.


    Will thought it was perhaps her most admirable trait.


    Now that Sam was aware of Number Three¡¯s Demolish trick, she fought more cautiously in the second bout. It was also a near thing, but ended in much the same as the first. It was in the third bout that Sam actually knocked the mallet out of Number Three¡¯s hand with a well-placed kick and snaked past the baffled chimp¡¯s grasp, had him on the ground before he even thought to resist. Grappling a chimp looked far more awkward than doing it to a person, given their mismatched anatomies, but she managed it regardless, latched to the chimp¡¯s back while locking down one of his arms in an outstretched position, her legs wrapped around his torso.


    Number Three screamed. He refused to give up, even as Sam pried his arm further and further back. Will expected her would hear a snap any moment. The chimp, who had clearly never practiced the fine art of grappling, had no idea how to get out of the hold she had put him in, and could only thrash uselessly.


    The bout was over at this point.


    ¡°Heads up, kid!¡± Mongrel cried out of nowhere, laughing at something no one could see.


    Until a small streak zipped through the air from behind the barn and cracked Sam in the temple, knocking her sideways. Deflected off her dome, an arrow blunted with a ball of rags spun off through the air.


    Number Three took advantage of Sam¡¯s momentary lapse by wriggling free of her grip. While she was still trying to get up, rubbing at the side of her head in confusion, Number Three had fetched his fallen mallet and put it to use on Sam¡¯s chin like a golf club.


    Number Four peeked his head out from the corner of the barn, grinning big, and ducked back into concealment.


    ¡°Mongrel¡­¡± Will sighed.


    The bastard in question smiled innocently, propped up on one elbow. ¡°It¡¯s for her own good, you know. In a real fight, she¡¯s got to keep her eyes peeled, not just on the guy she happens to be fighting.¡±


    ¡°You could have at least warned her to be on her toes.¡±


    ¡°I guess so. But that would have spoiled the surprise, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Sam fared worse after that, worn down by repeated thrashings. She clung desperately to that famous grin of hers, but it began to look more and more like a pained grimace with each passing bout. Will didn¡¯t like watching it very much, and he called an end to the training sometime after midday to give her a break for the day.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t my idea, you know,¡± he murmured while checking over her wounds on the porch once everyone else had cleared out, cleaning dirt and gravel out of any scrapes he found with a wet cloth. ¡°You would have won that match if Mongrel hadn¡¯t played dirty.¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± Sam replied in her sunny voice. ¡°He taught me something, so I¡¯m happy he did it like that.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you learn? Never trust the ugly ones?¡±


    She giggled, then winced when it exacerbated one of her countless hurts. ¡°That too.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Keep my eyes open.¡±


    ¡°Not bad. You know, maybe it is a good lesson to learn quickly. In the Frontier, no one ever fights fair. You fight fair, you get dead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s pretty harsh.¡±


    Will shrugged, removing the lid from a pot of ointment to smear over her bruises, making sure to keep it clear of any open wounds. ¡°It is what it is. No point whining over reality¡ªyou just learn to deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Is everyone really like that here?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡±


    ¡°Is there no one who can do anything about it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying.¡±


    Sam smiled at him, then nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good. I¡¯ll make sure to get better at this quick so I can start helping you.¡±


    ¡°I know you will.¡±


    Will pulled up the rear of Sam¡¯s tunic. She winced when the cold ointment touched her tender skin, but slowly relaxed as he proceeded to rub a thick layer of it up the defined muscles of her back, trying to softly massage some knots out at the same time.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking,¡± Will said.


    ¡°That¡¯s new,¡± Sam replied.


    ¡°Hilarious. Just listen. You did well today, and I think you could use a bit of a break. I was thinking I could take you into Sheerhome tomorrow, give you the grand tour. If you¡¯d like that, I mean. Like I said, it¡¯s not much of a tourist destination, and it probably stinks worse than anything you¡¯ve ever smelled, and there¡¯s pickpockets everywhere, but¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°Change of pace, at least.¡±


    Sam looked back over her shoulder with big eyes and a huge grin. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said it wasn¡¯t a good idea?¡±


    Will sighed. ¡°It probably isn¡¯t. But it doesn¡¯t feel right to keep you cooped up here either, with no sense of what¡¯s going on outside this farm, and I thought of a way to make it work.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? How?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just have to wear a disguise.¡± Reluctantly finishing his rub-down, Will pulled her tunic back down and washed his hands in the water basin sitting next to him.


    ¡°A disguise?¡± Sam asked doubtfully, and spun to face him. ¡°You¡¯re embarrassed to be seen with me now, is that it?¡±


    Will laughed. ¡°Can you blame me?¡± He held up a pacifying hand at her indignant expression. ¡°Joking, joking. It¡¯s nothing like that, it¡¯s just¡­ There¡¯s a lot of politics involved in this place. I¡¯m too high-profile to blend in on the street, and if anyone spots me with a freshie Laborer that the lord doesn¡¯t know about, people are going to start asking questions I can¡¯t answer.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you want the lord to find out about me?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m going to depose him,¡± Will said with a wry grin, ¡°and you¡¯re my secret weapon.¡±