Chapter 36

  Dalex walked out of the Office of Elven Labor for the twentieth time in one day, dusting off his hands after a job well done. This would be the last trip. The human population of Batulan-bar was small, and not all of them were slave owners. Still, even flying back and forth as fast as he could, bringing new men and women to the office to have their contracts annulled, the task had taken all day and a significant amount of the night. The sun was long gone.

  The Office of Elven Labor was finished as well. The building sat empty now, with all of the staff having gone home, not expecting to return to work tomorrow.

  He brushed off the final human lord of the city, a man named Philip Artois—Dalex called him Phil—telling him to find his own way home. Dalex was left alone with Balgoth the Boiler, who was writing furiously in a small leatherbound notebook.

  “Do you need some special permission to be a bard?” Dalex asked. “It seems like spreading songs isn’t the kind of thing dragons would like, and access to paper must be difficult for you.”

  The demon gave him a cold glare, but kept writing. “Is this more proof of your elementary ignorance?”

  Dalex nodded. She had realized over the course of a day spent following him around that there were a lot of basic things about Gaia that he did not know. She had stopped outright calling him stupid or demanding he ask fewer inane questions.

  “The words of a demon cannot be magical. No matter how my songs are publicized, even if they contain definitions for words of power, they will not become spells.”

  “What is a demon, anyway?” Dalex asked.

  “A foolishly philosophical question,” Balogth said. She had toned down her insults toward his intelligence but hadn’t fully eliminated them. “What is a human? What is an elf? What is a beastkin?”

  Dalex felt there were a few ways you could define each race to distinguish their differences, but he understood her point.

  “You’re the first demon I’ve met. Where do you come from? Is there a particular world with demons?”

  “My people reside on Gaia Gamma. Very few of us stray from our home world. The other races… fear us.”

  He had surmised as much from the reaction of Michel’s household and the way she hid her horns with her hat. She didn’t want to be recognized for what she was.

  “Is there some bad blood between your people and the others?”

  She nodded slowly. “There is… conflict in our history,” she said, choosing her words carefully while she continued to write. “We have been known to… devour beastkin and elves.”

  “Oh,” Dalex said, and then, remembering a conversation with Dava and the other hunters, “How many races are there that like to eat other humanoids?”

  Dava had mentioned that the reptilkin ate elves as well.

  “There are some others. Dragons, demons, and the reptilkin are most known for enjoying the flesh of upright mammals.”

  Dalex took a step back, suddenly feeling disgusted. “Is that why you’re following me around? Do you want to eat me?”

  That honestly made more sense than her suddenly deciding she wanted to write songs about him.

  But she shuddered at the sound of his question. “Humans are not desirable for eating. You do not have the flavor of beastkin, nor the plentiful mana of elves.”

  Dalex suddenly felt a little disappointed, but it mostly came from being reminded that he didn’t have any mana. Just what kind of monster had he been wandering around with? “Have you eaten many elves and beastkin yourself?”

  For once, she stopped writing in her notebook. “I have not tasted the flesh of another upright mammal in almost a thousand years. Like the rest of my kind, I am bound against doing so.”

  That made Dalex feel better. It no longer seemed as dangerous to keep her around. And her age was intriguing. He knew from Hitasa that elves could be functionally immortal if their lifespans weren’t cut short by the intervention of the draconic government.

  “Speaking of demons, where I come from, where there are demons there are also another race of beings called angels. Do you have those in Gaia too?”

  Balgoth’s entire visage changed. The irises of her normally round eyes became catlike, and the sclera turned red. Her skin drew tight against her face, making her look older and desiccated. Her teeth narrowed to points. The manicured nails on her fingers extended to the length of daggers and glinted sharply in the light of Gaia Eta’s moon. She slashed at his face, dragging her new claws over his quickly appearing helmet. His armor, which had self-repaired to its maximum durability, alerted him:

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  She hit hard. He stepped back from her, expecting her to strike him a second time, but she let her clawed hands fall to her side. She maintained a vicious glare that felt like it could do as much damage as a slash.

  “What was that?” Dalex asked, almost shouting.

  “Do not speak of them.”

  That pretty much confirmed that angels were a thing. Did the two races have some kind of association with a god or devil? Demons and angels were beings associated with religion back home, but that didn't mean that was the case here. The closest thing he had encountered to a god since dying was his benefactors, and they didn't seem to have any involvement with the culture and lore of Gaia. All they cared about was their precious {adamantine}.

  Balgoth's features returned to their more human appearance. Her clawed nails retracted, and the skin of her face plumped out again.

  "Are there any other subjects I shouldn't bring up?" Dalex asked.

  "Just do not mention my sister race."

  "Look, if you're going to follow me around, I need to be sure you aren't going to hurt anyone."

  "You need not worry. Only you would be stupid enough to mention the unmentionable."

  It seemed to him, if demons so rarely left Gaia Gamma, he might not be the only person who would have questions that strayed into the culturally inappropriate.

  “Well, I’m done for the day,” Dalex said. “Where would you like me to drop you off?”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “With a.. well, I guess you could call him a friend.” He paused and eyed the demon suspiciously. “You can’t come with me.”

  “You are my patron,” she said. “If you want me to write songs in your name, I should go where you go.”

  “All the time?” He shook his head. “I told you, I don’t have any money, and I never said I wanted you to write songs about me.”

  Though he had to admit, he didn’t hate the idea of it. He had never played the bard in any tabletop games—hospital bedside tabletop—or video games, but he had always appreciated their presence. Though Balgoth was by no means the typical bard.

  “It matters not,” Balgoth said. “You will be my subject, regardless.”

  “See, now I’m really worried you want to eat me. You weren't just lying about humans tasting bad, right?”

  “If humans were at all appetizing, I would have eaten High Lord Michel Montbell years ago.”

  “Ha! At least you have a sense of humor. I’ll have to tell Michel you said that. It’ll probably make him squirm a bit.”

  He cast {fly} and ascended a few yards off the ground. “I can’t ask my friend to put you up for the night. If you really want to follow me around, catch me at the Hunters’ Lodge sometime in the next few days.”

  She suddenly looked slightly worried, an unusual expression given the general scornful atmosphere she exuded. “Ser Dalex, as I have left Lord Montbell’s service, I have no lodging for the night.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

  He gave her a two-fingered salute and flew over the city back in the direction of Dava’s home. He landed a minute later and opened the door slowly, announcing his presence. “I’m home, everybody.”

  The interior of the house was dark. Dalex cast {illuminate} until he could find one of Dava’s oil lamps and light it. No one else was home. The living room was empty and the door to Dava’s room was open with no one inside. Eleven of the twelve pens Dalex had given Hitasa were set out on the dining table. Most of them were empty.

  Dalex checked Hitasa’s location and status.

  The {charm of protection} still around Hitasa gave him some basic information about her. His own armor could delve quite deep into Dalex’s physical and mental status, but for Hitasa, it was just the health numbers. He had been monitoring her throughout the day, making sure she wasn’t in active danger. He felt confident he had controlled for Castreier and other dangers, but at this point he couldn’t be too careful. Still, it was an invasion into her privacy, and he felt a little guilty.

  Her mental health had been fluctuating all day, rising all the way to the low eighties and dipping down to the mid-twenties. He would not have left her alone had the {charm of protection} not also worked to defend against self-harm.

  Dalex was about to go find her and check in when Dava walked through the door.

  He let out a deep sigh when he saw Dalex. “You’re actually here.”

  “Sorry,” Dalex said. “I’ve had a busy day. I hope you don’t mind if I crash here again tonight. Did you need something?”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Me?” Dalex asked, pointing at himself. “Mostly just introducing myself to the neighbors, giving them an idea of what it’ll be like sharing the block with me. Why?”

  “The entire city is buzzing with people talking about you. Hundreds of elves and beastkin are saying they lost their jobs working with humans; that their employers are being strongarmed by some incredibly powerful human.”

  “Hey, I made sure that everyone who got fired was more than appropriately compensated.”

  “And you freed almost every slave in the city? I don’t think there’s a single person in Batulan-bar who hasn’t heard your name today.”

  “Is there a problem?” Dalex asked.

  Dava let out a long, almost hysterical laugh. He paced back and forth across his living room, looking both excited and terrified. “This is beyond what I expected. I didn’t think…” He stopped in the middle of the room and stared Dalex. “They’ll send an army next, you know that? This isn’t just a typical human turf war. You are going to enrage a lot of very powerful people. Some of them will be dragons.”

  Dalex folded his arms and said defensively, “I’ve accounted for that.” His voice wasn’t very forceful, but he still felt confident in his defensive perimeter around the city.

  “You think you can take on an entire Wolf Brigade army? Castreier’s resources are considerable, and he will get help for his next strike.”

  Dalex closed his eyes and thought a moment. If he could work with an {attack golem} and a {steel wyvern} to kill a thousand mutts, he could probably throw back an army with a handful of each.

  Finally, he opened his eyes and said, “Yes. I can defend the city. But I think it’s about time you tell me what you weren’t ready to say last night.”

  Dava still hadn’t told Dalex what he and Metsa wanted.

  The wolf-eared beastkin watched Dalex for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right, but not here. Come with me to the lodge. Metsa should be there. She’ll want to hear this.”

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