I shapeshifted into my human form and stepped out of the now oversized loop of enchanted chain.

  Yes, I am not the brightest bulb, but seeing as it was my own greed and regret that came up with the idea, I was fairly confident I could take credit for it, and no one would dare to argue.

  “Missa Somnambulis!” I barked, rubbing at my throat, which felt sunburned by whatever magic had infected the chains. I stooped down and swept binding chains into my possum pouch. They were probably valuable, and I didn’t want to leave them lying around. But it was mostly because they were probably valuable, if I’m honest.

  The humans and the dwarf fell asleep and collapsed; the latter snored loudly enough to scare the birds half a mile away out of their roosts. The elf just stood locked in place. My head scanned around for the pixie, but I couldn’t see him.

  “Ah, well, you’ll be sold for parts then,” came a whisper from behind me. I spun, swiping at the air with a fist in the Classic-Backhand move, but hit nothing. “Gotta be quicker than that.” This time, the voice came from right in front of my nose. I swatted at the sound, but Glitterbuns wasn’t there.

  “Your tricks won’t work forever,” I muttered as I sidled towards the elf. Something sharp stabbed into my leg, just below my knee. It went numb, and I stumbled when my ankle failed to work properly. It felt like when you get pins and needles after sitting for too long on the toilet.

  “They’ll work for long enough, scaly. Should have figured you could shapeshift, most of your sort can.”

  “Your mistake, little fella. Why don’t you fuck off? I can always eat you later.” Another stabbing pain spread from my stomach. I glanced down and realised I was chubbier than I ought to be. I’d never gotten around to redesigning my human body, but I hadn’t had a beer gut before. At least the fat had shielded anything vital from the shallow slash.

  “Oh, I can still handle a stupid beast like you. Arrogant, all your sort are so arrogant, looking down on my kind,” hissed Glitterbuns from behind me. I ignored him and shuffled towards the elf, a growing nausea running through my guts.

  “It’s hard not to look down–” I swallowed bile, “on someone a foot tall, shortarse.”

  “It’s your sort that are overgrown. Bigfeet, big heads, tiny, tiny brains,” he hissed in my ear. I lashed out again and once again hit nothing but air. “Too slow, too clumsy!” A cackling laughter floated away from me.

  I was where I wanted to be, despite the gnat pestering me. I reached out, shaping my fingers into chitinous claws, and carefully slipped them between the chains and the elf’s neck. I heaved, and the metal parted with a loud snap. The elf sagged, then punched me in the face faster than I could react.

  “Wad wad dat dor?” I complained as blood poured from my nose.

  “Pixie dust!” he snapped, punching himself in the face and causing blood to run down his own face. “Can’t ged do if it can’t ged to your basal bembranes!”

  I performed a Labrador-Locates-His-Own-Tail, spinning in a circle three times, and then I saw the bastard. Floating by a nearby tree stump, a tiny spear dripping with what I assumed was my own blood. As my eyes locked on him, he panicked, and I saw the mana flow, the sigil form, and then he vanished again.

  A blast of acid and fire flew out, but all I achieved was to set some scenic grassland to bubbling fire.

  “Madik!” snapped the elf, and I took a moment to give him the side eye.

  “I doe I’m bekkid, dow is bot da bime!”

  “Bool!” he snapped as he raised a hand and mana flowed. “Madik!” The sigil was a sun peaking from behind a cloud. It moved, something I’d never seen a sigil do before. They had always been static images.

  A bright light shone down from above, illuminating a circle around us. Glitterbuns was not revealed.

  “I’m da bool? Do didn’t bind dim!” I snapped. I reached up and clicked my nose back into position. I needed a healing spell. “Where the fuck is the little shit?”

  “I’m everywhere!” Glitterbuns cackled as a dozen pixies swooped into the light, tiny bows firing miniature arrows that pincushioned the elf.

  “Iudicium Fucem!” I said. I repeated the phrase four times, throwing up the training sentinels I’d learned from Luckdire. I didn’t want to kill, not yet. That would come later. After I got some answers.

  The glowing clouds looked innocent enough, and while I planned to metaphorically fuck the little monster over, the training version of the spell seemed like the better option than the death version.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Bolts of light shot out, and each one that hit an illusory pixie caused the thing to explode into a shower of sparks and vanish. As the real Glitterbuns was struck, he cursed and strove for altitude. That was a losing game.

  “Me Fuga!” I snapped and shot into the sky after him. I circled around and flashed past, looking to snatch him from the air. He dodged the first time, landing a shallow gash down my right arm that began to go numb. I couldn’t feel my fingers properly, but they still flexed when I told them to, so I continued the attack.

  We were fifty feet above the ground when he turned and flew backwards away from me with his hands out in front of him.

  “Look, big guy, it’s just a job! It wasn’t personal!” he screamed as my fist closed around his midriff. I squeezed hard enough that the spear tumbled away, and something dripped out of the bottom of my hand.

  His eyes were rolling wildly, and he struggled desperately to escape my grip as I flew us back down to the ground.

  “Where is Pinklebottom based?” I snarled, pulling him close to my face and letting my fangs elongate out from the usual format of human dentistry.

  “I don’t know!”

  “What about Tricksylicks then?”

  “I don’t know!”

  My inner demons were cavorting, revelling in my freedom and revenge. The carefully cultivated animosity between them that I had used to stay in control was gone, but that was a problem for future Bob.

  I nudged the elf with a foot. He was breathing steadily, but was out for the count for now.

  “The key.” My voice was flat.

  “In my pocket!” squeaked Glitterbun. I carefully gripped him around the neck with my numb left hand and used the right to fish out a tiny key, like one you might use on a luggage padlock, from the left pocket on his waistcoat. I held it between my teeth as I picked up the chains that had been around the elf's neck and wound them about the pixie's throat till I was satisfied with his metallic turtleneck. I touched the key to the chain, and it tightened around his throat.

  “Now, let’s play a game. You tell me what I want to know, and you answer truthfully.”

  “Your dad didn’t want another child, and your mum wanted a daughter!” Glitterbuns squeaked.

  “Not what I meant,” I growled.

  “You prefer being a dragon to being a human, but you’re scared of what will happen when you die if you embrace what you are!” snapped the pixie.

  “Ok, shut up.” Glitterbuns’ lips snapped closed. “How do I find Pinklebottom?”

  “Pinklebottom finds you, dragon!” I glared at the creature in my fist. “That’s how it works!”

  “Where is the hub you mentioned?”

  “Beneath the house of the mayor of Longbottom!”

  “Hateskale’s man?” I asked.

  “I don’t know who that is! I just know that’s where we go. Secret tunnels, hidden ways. Pinklebottom has been doing this for a hundred years!”

  “And this is the final destination?”

  “No. They die later!” he tried to put his hands over his mouth. I felt his arms move in my palm as he struggled to silence himself.

  “Not so fun on the other end, is it?” I glared at the little monster.

  “Much more fun to give than to take. Ask Rainbowshaft!”

  “Oh, I will. Now, what hell happens after you pass the slaves off?”

  His eyes flicked from side to side, desperate to find a way out, but my grip was firm. I squeezed slightly, and he focused back on my face.

  “I can answer that,” croaked the elf from where he lay on his side. With painful effort, he heaved himself over to face me. “The dwarves use them in their halls. They need them. The Deep Ones must be held back.”

  Why couldn’t things just be simple? I didn’t know exactly what the hell he was on about, but it sounded like this elf was mostly concerned about the threat from underground, rather than having been abducted and chained.

  “What the fuck are the Deep Ones?” I said, not taking my eyes off the pixie in my fist.

  “From the Unterwelt. Monsters. Jarkan woke them, disturbed a nest after digging too deep along a vein of Arkendrite.”

  “What’s your name, elf?” I asked, still glaring at Glitterbuns.

  “Halefire Greenleaves. I thank you for my freedom, but you cannot end the flesh trade. It would doom the surface world.” He inched towards me along the ground.

  “I don’t have any healing magic. You gonna die, Mr Greenleaves?”

  “Paralysis poison. Meant for humans. It will pass.”

  “See? Pixies are saving the world!” hissed Glitterbuns.

  “I’m not entirely sold on that idea. And I’m pretty sure there are other options than sending kidnapped humans to their deaths below ground.”

  “No choice! We have writs! We’re allowed!” Glitterbuns said hurriedly.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Karen?” He nodded as vigorously as the chains and my grip allowed. “You can’t lie to me!” I poked the chains.

  “I’m not lying, you fucking maroon! The Empire won’t help officially, so it helps in other ways.”

  I pinched the bridge of my still bloody nose with my free hand. Nothing was ever bloody simple.

  “So what you’re saying is the pixie slave trade, which makes your species hated in the Empire, is tacitly condoned by the Empire, because the dwarves accidentally woke up some monsters, and if they don’t stop them, then the surface world is boned. Is that about right?” I asked with forced patience.

  “Boned? Both meanings are right. No bones and fu–” I tightened my grip, and Glitterbuns cut off with an eep noise.

  “Elf, what are these Deep Ones?” I asked pleasantly as Glitterbuns’ face began to turn a lovely shade of blue.

  “Metamorphic battleflesh, supported by swarms of servant beasts. Hard to kill, harder to keep dead. They flow and ooze, limbs and blades forming and dissolving as the beast requires. The warriors are tough, but most are servant breeds, ferrying flesh to the front. The only counter to such a flesh-trade was one of our own!”

  “Our?” I raised an eyebrow at the elf as he dragged himself shakily back to his feet.

  “Their. The Silverwood is far away and not involved in this, but we keep an eye on the process. I was… inconvenienced by that bastard while performing an unsanctioned inspection.”

  “He was spying on us! The law is the law! If we catch them, they go to the front. Can’t sell elves to the arena,” added Glitterbuns helpfully. I tightened my grip.

  A horn rang out behind me, making me jump. I spun round to find that the dwarf I had put to sleep had roused and pulled a long, curled goat's horn from his belt. The blaring note faded as he sagged back down.

  “They’ll be here soon,” the dwarf said gruffly. “I think you popped him? And your balls are on full display, human.”

  I looked at the pulped pixie in my fist and shook my hand to dispose of the mess. I had never been a fan of sudden loud noises.

  Pixie level 43 slain.

  Gold earned!

  Four hundred and forty-nine gold added to the Hoard.