The next day, the sky was filled with clouds. It was not the best sign about how things were going to go, but it might have been an accurate omen.

  He noted that most of the recruits weren’t exactly enthusiastic as they filed out of the village. Something about leaving the walls behind seemed to make the entire expedition more real to them, as if they were finally beginning to realize that it was not all just a game. Those who had been grinning and joking around the day before were serious now, clutching their weapons and staring around at the hills as if they expected armies of swinefolk to appear at any moment.

  Baroness Janburg looked far less concerned, though she was watching the surrounding terrain with interest. Her stride and alertness spoke of a hard-won kind of experience that reassured Clay; he’d be depending on her to make sure that the swinefolk didn’t make an opportunistic raid on the camp while he was out. It was a benefit he hadn’t enjoyed back in Rodcliff, since the baron there had already been dead long before he and the Ruffians had arrived.

  Olivia had come along as well, limping along with the rest of the [Commoners]. She had her war scythe with her, though she was still apparently sore and tired from the day before. Clay had noticed that she remained apart from most of the others; they didn’t try to include her in their whispered conversations, and she stayed quiet for the most part as well. The only person she talked with was the Baroness, who was happy to chat like old friends.

  Clay led them some ways into the hills until he had just started to catch hints of monsters at the edges of his ethereal senses. Then he called for a halt. The [Commoners] set down their supplies; a few of them began working to put up a few temporary tents to provide some shelter from the summer sun. By the time the sun had finished rising, the camp was in place, and they were ready to begin.

  He shouldered his spear and looked at the group. “All right. Who is coming with me first?”

  There was a pause. The [Commoners] looked around at each other, obviously not hoping to be the first to go out and fight.

  Then Andrew, the sullen-faced young man who had joined them in Pellsglade, stepped forward. He held his hammer in both hands, as if eager to use it. “I’ll go with you, Sir Clay. Lead on.”

  Clay nodded and gestured for the man to come with him. They headed out together into danger.

  They crouched together a short while later, watching the monsters draw close. It was yet another trio of swinefolk, one of each type. The squealer was already sniffing the air, obviously picking up something in the wind.

  Clay looked at Andrew, searching for signs of how the other [Commoner] would react. The man seemed tense and alert, his hands clenched around the sledgehammer and his gaze fixed on the swinefolk as they approached. His breathing was coming quicker, which was only natural. After all, this was probably his first time fighting creatures like this.

  For a moment, Clay remembered his first time in the Tanglewood. He pictured the feeling of creeping closer to the mantrap hole, the way his heart was beating as he clutched a pitchfork. How much would have changed if he had just turned back? Or if another spiderling had just happened to be somewhere he hadn’t noticed?

  He shook off the memory and focused. Now was no time to be caught up in the past. Clay kept his voice low. “Is there one of them that you want to try to kill? I can take care of the other two to give you the chance.”

  Andrew’s grip on the hammer grew even tighter. His whisper was harsh. “The big one is tough, right? And the one with the knives is quick. Can you… distract them? So I can get the one in the back?”

  It seemed like it cost the man to ask, but he was showing good sense. Clay nodded. “You have to hit hard, though. Don’t let it get to you with the whip, or start to cast its spell. Otherwise…”

  The man nodded. “I’ll be fast. I won’t let you down.”

  Clay gripped his shoulder for a moment. Then he slid off through the grass, hoping to come at the enemy from the other side. The squealer was still taking its time. Hopefully, the thing wouldn’t catch his scent before he was ready.

  He was in position a few short heartbeats later. It took only a moment to draw an arrow back on his shortbow. Then he fired.

  The arrow took the squealer in the throat. It died instantly, slumping to the soil.

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  As it fell, the other two swinefolk pivoted to face him. The smasher charged, roaring along. Behind it, the eater began its familiar, grunting spell. It didn’t seem aware of the [Commoner] crouching in the grass just beyond it, hammer in his hands.

  Clay tried to keep his focus on the smasher, knowing that if he gave the eater a hint about Andrew’s position, it would get very, very dangerous for the man. He slipped his shortbow back into its holster and picked up his spear, ready to face the smasher’s charge head on.

  Thanks to the bonuses from [Swinebane], the smasher seemed almost like it was moving in slow motion. It swung at him hard, but Clay simply dodged and brought his spear up and around. A single stab took the thing directly in the chest and shoved it back. Maddened fury filled the thing’s close-set eyes, and it went for another burbling roar. Clay cut the noise short with a second stab, right in the face.

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  As the bulky creature’s corpse collapsed to one side, Clay stepped aside to get a better view of the eater. He expected to find it being bludgeoned to death by his ally, but instead, he saw it perfectly unharmed, still preparing its spell. The little orb of nothing took shape in its hand, and malice filled its twisted features.

  He stepped closer, his eyes darting to where Andrew was still crouched in the grass. The [Commoner] was still there, but he wasn’t moving. Had something happened? Was there something else out here that had gotten to him?

  Clay felt a moment of fear for the other man, enough that he almost forgot about the eater. He remembered it just in time to step back as the thing lashed its whip at him, aiming to hit him in the face. The whistle of the whip as it sped by made Clay’s eyes narrow. If something was wrong with Andrew, he needed to finish the fight and find out what it was. No more dawdling.

  The eater snapped its whip at him again, snarling as it finished its spell. Clay caught the whip out of the air, letting it wrap around his gauntlet. He saw a flicker of fear on the twisted face of the eater. Then its other hand shot out, hurling an orb of blackness at him.

  He sidestepped the spell, letting it carve through the grass behind him. Then Clay yanked on the whip as hard as he could, pulling the eater off its feet. The swinefolk shaman flew through the air, closing the distance between them in a moment.

  Clay put an end to its flight with a single, definite thrust. It died instantly.

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  A pair of heartbeats later, Clay was at Andrew’s side, looking for wounds.

  Instead, he found the man still crouching, unharmed, in the grass. His fingers were wrapped around the hammer, clenching so tightly that they shook. He was covered in sweat, and his eyes were staring out at where the swinefolk lay. When Clay reached out to him, Andrew flinched. “I-I couldn’t… I couldn’t move. Why couldn’t I move? I just…”

  He looked lost, and Clay felt a pang of sympathy. Leaning forward, he grabbed Andrew by the shoulder. The [Commoner] jerked, and then focus returned to his eyes. It was closely followed by shame, and Clay spoke before the man could pull back into his shell. “There is nothing wrong with being afraid of these things, Andrew. They’re monsters, and they can kill you in an instant if you make a wrong move. The only reason I was able to get past that is because I spent a long time fighting through that fear. Are you going to do that? Or will you give up?”

  Still sweating, Andrew stared at him without answering. Clay glanced up at the sky, marking the position of the sun, and then reached out with his senses. He nodded. “We need to get back to camp. Follow me. When you get back, think about what you felt today. No one will think any less of you if you decide that’s the end of it—but if you decide to fight on, I will help you.”

  Andrew blinked, and some color came back to his face. He nodded, and they set off to return to camp. The day was still early.

  Unfortunately, Andrew was not the only one to freeze up in the face of the swinefolk. In fact, his reaction showed remarkable restraint. Out of the next ten [Commoners], six of them were paralyzed with fear when the time came to fight. Another three ran screaming the moment that the swinefolk appeared, forcing Clay to both kill the pursuing swinefolk and then chase the panicked recruit down before they could stumble across another batch of monsters.

  Their fear was understandable, given what they were facing. It wasn’t an easy thing to throw caution to the side and attack a nightmare. It was just unpleasant to see so many formerly brave souls immediately abandon their courage the moment the time came to stand their ground.

  Of course, if their reactions were disappointing, there was always room for something worse to happen.

  Clay took a deep breath and tried to regain control of his temper. It was not as easy as he would’ve liked it to be. He’d already been guiding [Commoners] to and from the swinefolk for hours now, and even with his various bonuses and his native, unending stubbornness, the work was starting to take a toll.

  Then he spoke, keeping his voice even. “Sal, you can’t take the tusk back with you.”

  Sal looked up from what he was doing. The thuggish man had been braver than the others; rather than running for home or freezing still, he’d charged straight into the fight. Clay had still needed to save him—the man had run straight at the smasher, his spear bouncing off its thick hide and nearly being knocked from his hands—but at least he’d tried to attack.

  The only problem was that he seemed to think his ‘victory’ entitled him to something to remember the occasion. He’d wanted a trophy, apparently, which was why Clay had found him sawing away at the smasher’s teeth after the rest of the swinefolk had died.

  “I don’t see why we can’t bring back a trophy, you know? Something to prove we’ve been hard at work out here.” Sal’s smile was oily, and Clay felt an instant and deep distrust of the man form in his soul.

  Still, he tried to remain polite. “Sal, you can’t take home pieces of monsters. They track the scent of their fallen; it’s why I wash the blood off me before I go back to camp.” Clay poked at the smasher with his spear. “If you bring back a piece, then the camp will be buried in swinefolk before the end of the day.”

  The other [Commoner] scowled. “By then, we’ll be back in Janburg, right? Then it won’t matter so much. That [Noble] can even take care of them before they get past the walls. It’s really not that big of a problem.”

  Clay’s already fragile grip on his temper was starting to fray again. “No, it won’t. Because you’re going to leave that tusk alone, and we’re going back to camp, now.”

  Sal grimaced. He looked down at the half-severed tusk and then pushed himself up to his feet. “You know, I don’t understand you. What are you afraid of? You’re practically an adventurer, but you don’t have to do any of the garbage that they do. You could have any number of people eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not loosen up and enjoy it?”

  The exasperation in Sal’s voice was enough to make something click in Clay’s head. He’d heard that kind of talk before, back in Crownsguard. Clay hadn’t been part of the conversation, of course; he’d been crouched in a shadow, waiting for a clear shot.

  With a deliberately light tone, he tried to phrase it in exactly the right way. “So you think that because I’m strong enough, I should just do whatever I want? Fight when I want, take what I want, maybe even set up my own group somewhere?”

  “Now you’re getting it!” Sal stepped forward, his expression growing animated. “Think of what we could do with this kinda power. Nobody would stand against us, not even the Guild! They barely know what’s going on under their noses these days, and you’re strong enough that even the [Nobles] would be nervous about taking you on. We could do whatever we want!”

  Clay tilted his head to the side. “It sounds like the kind of plan that a few adventurers had in the capital, actually. They wanted to set up their own little empire, right under the noses of the Guild and the King.” He paused, and a flicker of uncertainty went across the man’s face. “I broke their arms and legs and put them in the King’s cells—and they were someone I hadn’t personally tried to train. Imagine what I would do to someone who betrayed me personally by turning bandit with their skills?”

  Sal’s face had gone grey, now, and he looked even more worried than he had facing the swinefolk. He took a step back. “I-I didn’t mean to say anything about—”

  “The tusk is staying here, Sal. Whether your hand is attached to it is up to you.” Clay smiled and gestured for Sal to precede him. “Time to go back to camp. Now.”

  By the time Clay paused for lunch, the camp was much, much smaller.

  Andrew was still there, sparring against one of the [Guards] that hadn’t gone out yet. His face had lost some of the tension that it had carried during their journey back. Clay hoped that it meant he would stay the course.

  Sal was gone, as were three of his friends. Two of them hadn’t even bothered to go out; they’d just left in a group to head back to Janburg. Clay was happy enough to see them go; the last thing he needed was for some would-be crime lord or bandit king to learn something actually dangerous.

  He hadn’t been alone in leaving. Of the other thirteen who had gone out already, only three were still in the camp. Only a quarter of the [Commoners] had gone through their first fight and decided to continue, which was grim enough. Another four, on top of Sal’s buddies, had headed back on their own without ever coming face to face with the monsters. Apparently, just the stunned expressions and muttered stories of their fellow recruits had been enough.

  Clay shook his head as he ate, going over the remaining [Commoners] who still needed to be led to test their courage. Elizabeth and Peter had been putting off their turns, as had Lana. There were a couple of [Guards] who still wanted to try as well, one of the King’s and one from Janburg itself. It seemed like such a short list, compared to the amount he had been anticipating dealing with before. In some ways, it was better to have it less complicated; in others, he wondered if the entire journey had been a mistake.

  Still, there was no other choice at this point. Even if everyone else abandoned the mission, he’d promised the Baroness and Olivia that he’d destroy the Lair, anyway. It might take him a longer amount of time—a lot longer, now that he thought about it—but he’d see it done. Whatever the cost.

  He finished his meal and went looking for Elizabeth. There was plenty of work left to do.

  “Are you sure the monsters are out there?”

  Clay tried not to sigh. He nodded. “I’m sure, Lana. I will let you know when they are close.”

  She nodded, her expression still nervous. Her sword was quivering slightly as she held it, but at least she hadn’t dropped it yet. That fact alone put her a little ahead of Elizabeth, who had asked why they couldn’t bring her brother along the entire time, or Peter, who had refused to get any closer to the swinefolk than he had to. The [Guards] had been a little better, but neither of them had managed to score a kill during their time in the hills.

  He didn’t have a whole lot of hope for Lana, either. She had been practicing hard, but the worry in her eyes as they had marched out of the camp had only increased the closer they got to the monsters. Clay was already resigning himself to needing to rescue yet another [Commoner] as they either froze or ran away.

  They reached the top of another hill, and Clay motioned for Lana to stop. He settled down in the brush and looked around at the nearby valley. It didn’t take long to spot yet another batch of swinefolk making their way across the space between two hills. They didn’t seem to have noticed the people watching them, at least not yet.

  A moment later, Lana gave a quiet gasp as she caught sight of the monsters as well. She fumbled her sword a little, but managed to not drop it.

  Unfortunately, the blade caught the light of the sun overhead, and a flash of sunlight swept across the grass below. The swinefolk, who had been walking along without a care in the world, came to a sudden halt. Clay watched them grunt and squeal to one another.

  Then they immediately swerved to walk up the hill. Lana flinched backwards, her breath starting to come faster. Clay looked back at her and made a motion to stop her from moving. She froze, her sword still in her hand.

  Clay kept his voice quiet. “If you want to try to help, get your bow out and be ready to shoot. I’ll start the fight. Just do what you can from here.”

  Wordlessly, she nodded and set her sword down in the dirt. She brought out her hunting bow a moment later and nocked an arrow. Clay watched her for a moment and then slipped off down the hillside towards the swinefolk.

  He debated whether to simply use a [Chant] to kill all three, but he supposed Lana deserved the chance to do something if she could. He tried not to feel like he was going to be immediately disappointed by what was about to happen.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Clay crept close to the path that the swinefolk were going to use. He quickly whispered the [Chant] for Freshening Breeze to make himself as scentless and then waited.

  The swinefolk came close a few moments later. He watched as they passed by his position, smirking a little as the squealer failed to catch him. Their beady little eyes were focused on the hilltop, so perhaps that helped the situation.

  He tensed up, ready to sprint forward and strike.

  Then an arrow, whistling through the air, slashed down and struck the eater in the shoulder, lodging itself there. He heard Lana cry out in triumph.

  For an instant, both Clay and the swinefolk froze in place. Then everything seemed to happen at once.

  Clay lunged out of the grass and struck the eater as it staggered, the arrow still lodged in its shoulder. The thing went down without another sound and he pivoted to see the smasher whirling to face him. It clashed its hammers together, obviously eager for the fight.

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  The squealer, on the other hand, ignored Clay entirely and took off sprinting. Its hideous shriek rebounded off the hills as it climbed up towards Lana, who was frantically backing away.

  Clay growled to himself as he darted in towards the smasher. The swinefolk roared and struck at him. He dodged aside and stabbed, catching the thing in the throat. Its roar turned into a gurgle, and as I staggered backwards, Clay struck a second time and caught it in the knee, sending it to the ground.

  With the immediate threat down, Clay brought out his own bow and nocked an arrow. The squealer was too fast to catch on foot, and if he used the Canticle of Ice, it might take too long. His only chance would be to land a solid hit with an arrow; otherwise, Lana would face the swinefolk alone.

  He drew back the bowstring and paused his breath. The squealer continued to race up the hill, its unnatural, hunched gait repulsive in his eyes. Clay focused on the shot, allowing his eyes to follow the path the creature would take.

  Then he loosed, and the arrow crossed the distance in a heartbeat. It struck the squealer square in the back, cutting off its full-throated screams. He saw it complete one last lurch forward, and then it writhed in the grass, unable to continue.

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  A massive hand reached up to grab at him, and Clay stepped to the side. He put away his bow and picked up his spear again. One last thrust finished the swinefolk that had been grasping for him.

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  He looked down at the creature for a moment longer. Then, with a sigh that he never would have wanted Lana to see, Clay started to move up the hillside. It was time for the day to be done.

  When he and Lana reached the camp, it was a much quieter place than it had been. Counting Lana—who he had needed to reassure repeatedly that she was still welcome—there were only seven people aside from the Baroneess. Andrew was still there, along with Elizabeth and Peter. Two of the King’s [Guards] were still sparring; their names were Sandra and Arnold, if he remembered right. One of Janburg’s [Guards] had stayed as well, a dour, serious man by the name of Mitchell.

  The last person who remained was Olivia, of course, who had been sparring with the Baroness on and off all day. She was watching them come in, apparently resting at the moment. Clay gave her a subdued smile and tried to ignore the whispered conversations of the others. At this point, he was ready to just pack up and head back to Janburg for the day. Perhaps the next day, he wouldn’t lose nearly three quarters of the people willing to follow him into danger.

  Olivia stepped up beside him, her war scythe in her hand. Her voice was pitched low. “Welcome home, traveler.” The memory of her welcoming him to the Shrine back in Pellsglade brightened his mood for a moment, though it was quickly overshadowed again by the situation. “Were things difficult out there?”

  Clay snorted. He glanced at the others. “Yeah. You could say that.”

  “Can I make things just a little more difficult for you, then?” She smiled when he gave her an incredulous look. “It turns out that I’m not feeling as badly as I was expecting, so…”

  His breath quickened a little. “You want to go out now?”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow. “If it is not too much trouble? After all, you were planning on taking a full six other people out before…”

  “I thought you would be too tired today. Aren’t you still sore?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I rested well. Besides…” Olivia lowered her voice. “I don’t know if I want to let the others get that much farther ahead of me.”

  Clay tried not to laugh. He shook his head. “I don’t think you need to worry that much about that, Olivia. We have time.”

  “Still, there’s no better time than the present, is there?” She leaned in closer, smiling. “If I slow you down too much, you can have us come home immediately.”

  He was still hesitating when she delivered her most devastating weapon yet. She leaned in a little further and looked him straight in the eyes. “Please, Clay?”

  A few minutes later, Clay was cursing himself for his weakness as they made their way through the hills. Olivia, on the other hand, was still smiling to herself as they walked. He’d rarely seen her quite this happy, and despite the fatigue he felt and the lack of enthusiasm for the task, Clay couldn’t help but feel a little more content over the situation.

  The sun was already starting its slide towards the horizon again, and the heat of the afternoon was almost oppressive as they made their way through the hills. He was sweating fairly hard at this point, and he could tell that Olivia was as well. She wasn’t wearing armor as heavy as his, but she did have some kind of modified gambeson, and her [Fortitude] was far lower. Her hair was sticking to her neck and face as they moved further in, but she seemed determined to not slow down.

  Fortunately, his senses picked up on a group of swinefolk just a short distance away. He nodded and took the lead, forging a path through the grass to where they were heading. Olivia followed, her eyes intent.

  They reached the monsters a short while later. It was yet another trio of swinefolk. The monsters were actually poking at the corpses of some of Clay’s earlier kills. He could see them snarling and ripping at the bodies. Apparently, these monsters were about as compassionate for their fellow creatures as the spiders had been, though they weren’t actively killing each other.

  Clay shifted, looking over at Olivia. Her eyes were wide, and she was breathing quickly. He could see her fingers shaking on the shaft of her war scythe as she stared at the creatures, obviously unable to look away.

  He felt his feelings plummet. Of course, she had just as much fear as the rest of them; she had even more reason to be. These creatures had to be something out of her nightmares. Some of them had literally chased her from her home, had killed her families. What had he been thinking, bringing her out here?

  Yet just as he was about to tell her they could head back, Olivia closed her eyes. Her hands on the scythe steadied, and her lips moved in silence for a few moments. When she opened her eyes again, Olivia looked at him with an expression that mixed fear with determination, anger with uncertainty. She nodded and whispered in a quiet voice. “The largest one is mine. You can take the other two.”

  He nodded, feeling a stab of concern. Fear he could understand, but there was something about the way she’d said it that worried him. Olivia turned back to the swinefolk and started whispering something else under her breath. When he strained to hear, he thought he could recognize the [Chant] of the Convenient Nail of all things.

  Clay turned his attention back to the swinefolk, feeling his heart beat harder in his chest. He drew out his bow and set his sights on the squealer. It was the fastest threat, and the one that would bring even more enemies down on them. Better to limit the problems it could cause. If they could hit them in one immediate strike…

  His heart leaped into his throat a moment later as Olivia straightened up and walked out of the grass, standing in clear view of the enemy.

  The swinefolk were too preoccupied with their grisly meal to notice her at first, but she tapped the butt of her war scythe against a small rock. She was still finishing her [Chant] as they spun around; her war scythe was dangling almost negligently from her hand, the butt still dragging in the dirt as she took another step forward.

  Their reaction was immediate. The smasher roared in fury and charged forward; the eater loosened its whip and began its own grunting spell.

  Whatever the squealer might have done, Clay didn’t give it the chance. Even as he started his own [Chant], the Canticle of Ice, he brought up his bow and shot the thing directly in the eye. It stiffened up and fell over, the arrow having gone in nearly up to the feathers.

  {Feral Squealer slain!}

  Clay switched targets to the eater, knowing it could do just as much damage. Olivia would dodge the smasher; she had to, or else the thing would run her over. She was fast enough, at least. He’d seen her do just as much while she’d been training that day.

  He had drawn his bowstring back when Olivia finished her own [Chant]. She stared up at the smasher looming in front of her, unmoving, as it raised its hammers and charged in. Clay felt another burst of panic as she made no move to duck or leap out of the way. On pure reflex, he started to switch targets, knowing it was already too late.

  Then Olivia took a single step back and watched as the smasher impaled itself on her scythe.

  The impact of it was shocking, so much so that Clay’s fingers froze on the bowstring. He could see the scythe trembling under the weight of the smasher, but he couldn’t understand how it had happened. Olivia hadn’t even really braced it against the ground, and even if she had braced herself, there was no way she’d have had the [Might] to withstand the charge. Now that he looked, her hand wasn’t even on the haft anymore, but it was still propping the creature up, having driven the entire curved blade into the swinefolk’s torso.

  Clay heard the eater’s spell fall to pieces as it stared at its pinned companion in shock. His own [Chant] stuttered to a halt as well. Recovering first, he didn’t give the eater a chance to come back to its senses; he put an arrow through its throat. It stumbled backwards, the whip falling from its hands, and Clay ignored it as it fell.

  {Flesh Eater slain!}

  When he looked back at Olivia, she was stepping away from her scythe. She unlimbered the axe at her waist and ducked beneath a clumsy swipe by the smasher. It was still trying to pull itself off the scythe when she took her axe in both hands and slashed it across the back of the knee. The blow cut some of the remaining strength from its legs, and it slumped a little against the blade of the scythe. A second strike against the back of the other knee only made the situation worse, as the smasher’s own weight dragged the blade up through its chest, tearing the wound into a jagged gash that oozed green blood.

  As he watched, the smasher dropped its other hammer and got both hands on the haft, struggling to keep itself from falling further onto it. Then, all of a sudden, the scythe slipped; the smasher abruptly fell to its knees as the scythe slid out from under it. Olivia stepped up behind it, the axe still in her hands. Her expression was one of fury and hatred. The axe came down with all the force she could put behind it.

  The smasher fell forward and went still.

  Clay heard Olivia breathing, her lungs working as hard as they had when she had run back and forth to his farm from the Shrine in Pellsglade. She dropped her axe and leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees as she tried to pull air into her chest. He ran over to her, skirting around the corpse of the smasher. He was moving fast enough that he nearly tripped over the haft of her war scythe, still partially trapped under the body.

  She looked up at him and smiled, her expression a little shaky. Sweat covered her face, and she drew a sleeve across her forehead in an attempt to keep it out of her eyes. “Tried… the Nail…It worked! It worked!”

  {Insight increased by 1!}

  He stared at her as she laughed, a breathless, incredulous sound. It was as if she’d surprised herself as much as she had him. A moment later, he was laughing too, shaking his head. “You-you fixed it to the ground?”

  Olivia nodded, still too out of breath and laughing too hard to say anything. She tipped backwards onto her rear before flopping onto her back, putting an arm over her eyes as she laughed. Laughed until it faded into a half-sob of relief.

  Clay walked over and sat next to her. He took hold of her free hand and held it, waiting for it all to run its course.

  “I didn’t think Firm Step would work, because I don’t have the [Might] or the [Fortitude] for it. The weight of the thing would have smashed me. So I just fixed the scythe to the ground below me, and then kept it going long enough to get behind it.”

  They were walking through the hills again, leaving the corpses of the swinefolk behind them. Pure Touch had already wiped the sweat, blood, and dirt from them, and a cool breeze was flowing through the grass. If it wasn’t for the noise of the occasional group of swinefolk echoing from the hillsides, it might have been a pleasant afternoon walk.

  Clay shook his head, still incredulous. “How did you know the haft wouldn’t snap? Those things are heavy.”

  Olivia gave him a sly smile. “What, you don’t trust David’s work? You should know how sturdy something he made can be.” He gave her a grudging nod, and she sighed in contentment. “Still, I wasn’t entirely sure. When it charged me…”

  She took in another shaky breath. “I nearly lost the [Chant]. It was like I was back in Zelton, running for my life. It took everything I had to…”

  Her voice faded away, and Clay nodded. “Yeah, I understand. Sometimes when I’m asleep, I go back to those early days when it was just me and a pitchfork. Only this time it just goes wrong…”

  With another smile, she took in a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “I’m not sure if it’s the same, but I appreciate the thought.” Then she nudged him a little with her shoulder. “So how crazy did you think I was, just standing in front of it without moving?”

  “I might have had some doubts.” He carefully nudged her back. She seemed so much more fragile, still. “I’d appreciate a warning sometimes. Just because you are still gaining [Valor] doesn’t mean I need to!”

  She laughed again, a beautiful, unrestrained sound. “I did! I got two just for that.” Then she grew silent for a moment. “I got Soul, too. The first time that’s ever happened.”

  His senses caught the hint of another group of swinefolk, moving around the hill to their left. He veered to the right to avoid them. “Yeah. You’re the only one who managed it today, so I think some congratulations are in order. The next time, it should be easier, too.”

  He took a few more steps and then realized that she’d stopped. There was a calculating look on her face. “If it gets easier, why don’t we do it again?”

  Clay paused long enough to direct a few choice words at his past self. “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea. You’ve already fought one group, and you’re still tired from yesterday.”

  “You said the next ones would be easier. I won’t go for the smasher again. I promise.” Olivia’s smile told Clay she thought she’d already won. She started to look around; the sounds of the swinefolk carried far too well across the otherwise-silent hills. “It shouldn’t take too long to find one or two more groups of them, right? And it’ll show the others just how much we can do.”

  The argument broke down the reasons he had already been mustering. He looked up at the sun, hoping that it had slid a little further towards the horizon. Instead, he saw that there was plenty of light left in the afternoon. There weren’t any clouds threatening rain or darkness, and he knew exactly where they could find the next group.

  He looked back at Olivia and found her grinning at him. Clay sighed. “No more than two more. Then we go back. Understand?”

  “Of course, Sir Clay.” The fond way she said the words kept them from seeming sarcastic or bitter. He turned away to hide the heat in his cheeks and tried not to hear the low chuckle behind him. There were monsters to find, after all.

  The squealer turned and snapped at the air. Clay blinked in surprise and then turned his attention back to the smasher in front of him. It was already raising its hammers, so a simple thrust caught it square through the heart.

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  By the time he stepped back, Olivia had already struck. Her war scythe came down and around, hacking at the distracted squealer with her entire weight behind the blow. The blade caught it in the shoulder, cleaving through hide, muscle, and bone in a spray of green blood. She jerked the weapon out of the wound and kicked the creature, knocking it backwards.

  Her follow up swing killed it. Clay watched her for a few more moments, thinking back over what she’d done during the brief fight. “Gnat’s Bite?”

  Olivia grinned. “Got it in one! I figured their senses would be a little sensitive to distractions like that. It turns out I was correct.” She muttered a few more words, and Pure Touch cleaned her of the squealer’s blood. “Now I just want to get one of those, and we can be done.”

  She pointed at the eater that had come with the group, which was currently lying with Clay’s arrow in its skull. Clay wasn’t entirely surprised by the request, but he still sighed. “You’re sure? Their spell can cause an awful lot of damage. I haven’t been hit myself, but…”

  He trailed off as Olivia nodded firmly. “I am sure. I want one of each, to prove I can.” Then she smirked at him. “Besides, don’t you believe I can do it by now?”

  Clay looked back at the squealer. The thing had enough time to scream for help, so he really didn’t have much of a reason to argue that they wouldn’t be able to find another batch of monsters. “All right, we can give it a try. A group is already on its way.”

  Olivia’s eyes shone as she nodded. “Which direction are they coming from?”

  He pointed, and she headed off towards a patch of grass in that direction. “Just take care of the other two and leave the eater to me. Don’t hide though. You need to get their attention.”

  Clay gave her a put-upon look, and she rolled her eyes. Then she disappeared into the grass, her war scythe barely poking out of the vegetation. It vanished a moment later, and Clay was left standing by himself, waiting for monsters to come and try to kill him.

  It really said something about his life that it was the most entertaining part of his day. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was saying, but Clay was reasonably sure it wasn’t good.

  The thing of it was that he found it increasingly hard to complain about his life with Olivia around. Her determination echoed his own, and even if his more responsible side told him they should have headed back to camp a while ago, a part of him was thrilled to see another person just as committed to the mission as he was.

  Even more than that, she was interesting. Clay might have thought about using the Nail to stop a smasher, or the Gnat’s Bite to distract a squealer, but she’d already started helping him come up with new ways to use [Chants]. A part of him was just excited to see what she’d come up with next, to say nothing of what she’d do with some of the more advanced [Chants]. Syr Katherine and the others had already been a bit horrified about what he could do with them, but they really hadn’t seen anything yet. Once he and Olivia really started to work together…

  Clay smiled to himself at the thought and glanced back at the thicket of grass. Maybe it was time that he showed off a little. Just to reassure himself that she wasn’t the only one impressing people for the day.

  When the swinefolk finally arrived, Clay had already put his own preparations in place. He could just see the glint of his Pell knife, hidden in a clump of grass, as the swinefolk trampled past it on their way to face him.

  The squealer came howling for him first, with the smasher close behind. Clay watched them come, idly reciting the Cycle of Return, and then smashed the butt of his spear into the ground. He used it like a level to launch himself skyward, just as he finished the [Chant].

  His knife shot out of the grass, stabbing directly in the smasher’s back. He tugged as hard on it as he could as he came back down, dragging the knife along a new trajectory as he did so. The smasher staggered to a stop as Clay landed, and then dodged past the squealer again as it came the other way. Another sharp dodge carved the knife deeper into the creature’s back along a new trajectory. Clay just kept pulling at it, feeling it worm its way into the massive creature until it finally punched through its torso and came flying straight towards him.

  Clay had timed it perfectly, waiting until the squealer had charged him yet again. As both knife and monster hurtled towards him, Clay adjusted his position just slightly—and then dropped the [Chant] and dodged. This time, the creature ran face-first into the incoming Pell knife. Its customary shriek cut off with an undignified squawk, and as it staggered, Clay turned and killed it with a single thrust of his spear. Beyond it, the smasher finally finished collapsing.

  {Feral squealer slain!}

  {Wild Smasher slain!}

  He looked up from his performance to see that the eater had nearly finished its spell. The orb of darkness spun and flickered in its hands, and the creature grinned as it brought its hand up slowly to unleash it on him. Clay braced himself to dodge the thing, wondering if Olivia had just been distracted.

  Then she burst out of the grass, skating on the air above the dirt as she flew in at the eater. Her war scythe swung in a single passing stroke, and the eater’s head left its shoulders. The magic in its hands shattered, stitching its falling body with ravening needles of energy.

  Olivia came to a stop a short while later, a grin plastered on her face. She let herself drop. “I knew I would like Floating Step.”

  Clay glanced at the mess he’d made with Cycle of Return and then sighed. “Well done! Now, let’s get back to the camp before someone thinks the monsters got us.”

  She nodded, already reciting Pure Touch to clean her blade. Clay retrieved his knife and started doing the same, feeling an unjustified amount of unhappiness over the fact that she hadn’t seen him showing off. He pictured his mother shaking her head at him and his father laughing, and let his lips twist in a crooked smile. After all, there was still tomorrow.

  The camp hadn’t gotten any smaller by the time they got back, though the Baroness looked a little anxious. She hid it well, but it was clear she had been trying to make a decision on whether to leave the camp full of vulnerable [Commoners] unguarded to go looking for Clay and Olivia, or stay where she was when the two people she actually wanted to protect were missing.

  It would have been hard to miss the relief on the Baroness’ face, but only a blind fool wouldn’t have seen it on the others. They crowded around Olivia, asking questions and looking for wounds, while the Baroness herself approached Clay.

  “So, have you given up this charade, Sir Clay?” She nodded to Olivia when he looked at her. “I’m sure you protected her well enough for today, but this cannot continue any further. You’ll get them…”

  She trailed off as Clay raised his palm. “My lady, Olivia did well. Actually, she killed three of the things already, and she might have gone after more if I didn’t make her promise to come back now. I think tomorrow she might even reach the next level, at this rate.”

  The Baroness frowned. “You can’t be serious.”

  A burst of incredulous exclamations from the rest of the group made Clay smile. He nodded to where the others were asking even more questions. “Feel free to see how she feels, Baroness, but I think she is going to be fine. As for the others, well, I only promised Olivia my help. The rest are going to need to earn it, the same way she did today.”

  For a moment, the Baroness seemed like she wanted to argue further, but she just shook her head. “Fine. We will continue this experiment of yours tomorrow, but again, if any harm comes to her…”

  Clay nodded, already thinking about how he’d organize things the next day. With fewer people, he could probably afford to spend at least as much time with each of them as he had with Olivia. If he did, and if the rest of them took a bit of courage from Olivia’s example…

  His head was still spinning with possibilities as they walked back towards the gates of Janburg, though for once they didn’t keep him up long after dinner. He ate well, lied down for what seemed like just a moment, and was asleep before his head hit the bedroll.

  It had been a good day, after all.