? About a week after the incident of the dungeon floods, life in Ironmarsh had more or less returned to normal. The number of delving teams sent out to trim the number of monsters that appeared in the swamps remained high, and would likely do so for the next two or three months. Ironmarsh took the matter of floods seriously, and Grim often overheard the Captains of the guild talking about the regular shifts they took scouting out into the marshes and delving dungeons.

  ? As for Grim, his training had resumed without delay. Fendel hadn’t heard of his unsatisfactory archery, but he seemed determined to crack down on Grim all over again. The intensity of his shooting sessions had massively increased, now also featuring hour-long hunts where he had to try and out-shoot his teacher. Both were aimed with training bows that did no real damage, but the soft tips of the arrows still bruised him plenty, and he never managed to return the favor.

  ? After two of these hunts, where it was clear that Grim stood no chance in shooting back, Fendel had reluctantly allowed him the use of his movement skill. *Be where you want to shoot, not where you want to get shot.* It did cut down on the number of bruises he acquired each day, but offered him no benefit when it came to shooting Fendel. He wasn’t sure why this new, more intense training was necessary, but he knew better than to complain, or worse, question it.

  ? For today, the third session, it had been a hunt in the swamps. Grim’s nerves from the flood incident hadn’t entirely settled, and the silent tension as Fendel stalked in him between the pools of water kept him highly on edge. Six new bruises to add to his collection, and not a one returned. He was starting to hate this new training.

  ? “You must work on your speed,” Fendel replied, virtually appearing out of a bush beside him. “Your accuracy has improved, but you are rushing your shots.”

  ? Yet again with the contradictions, he thought sourly. “If I don’t rush, I can’t shoot fast!”

  ? Fendel whacked him in the center of his forehead with one finger. His higher level turned the move into a blur that Grim couldn’t anticipate. Just wait until I’m closer to your level, he silently hissed at the man. I’ll torment you just as badly as you’re tormenting me. He kept that thought firmly internal as his mentor whacked him again.

  ? “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. You don’t actually have to move quickly, boy. Make it smooth. One hundred shots at the range before you get dinner.”

  ? Then he was gone, stalking back toward the western gate of Ironmarsh. Grim kept sight of him for about a hundred meters as he fumed, and then a patch of mist slid between them, and, when it cleared, he was gone. Grim spat on the ground and made his way over to the gate as well. He wasn’t sure if Fendel was watching him, but he filled the air with enough curses that he hoped it wasn’t the case. He would, however, know if Grim hadn’t followed his order, so instead of continuing straight down the main lane toward the guild hall, he veered right to the archery course, where he took the required one hundred shots.

  ? Too tired to eat when he returned, he made his way up to bed as soon as he returned. Or at least, he tried. Miranda was standing at the base of the stairs, clearly looking for him. At the sight of him, sore and limping with exhaustion, her usual predatory grin faded away, and she moved over. “Fuck, Grim. What happened to you?”

  ? “Fendel,” it was all he could muster by way of words, but she understood.

  ? “Ah. Yeah… I’m glad I’m not a martial. Everyone says the earliest months feel like hell. But why are you so bruised if he’s just teaching you how to shoot?”

  ? Grim shrugged, then regretted it as a bruise at his shoulder joint made itself known. “He keeps shooting me with training arrows and challenging me to try and shoot him back. Like I can. I don’t even see him half the time when he fires at me. I just hear his bow and dash in a random direction.”

  ? “Wait, but that’s advanced training,” Miranda said. She caught him as he stumbled slightly and pulled him away from the stairs. “No, you have to rest, but food and a bath are important. Don’t ignore them just because you’re tired.”

  ? “What do you mean, advanced training?” Grim asked, groggily lifting his head to meet her ice-blue eyes. “Should I even really be doing any of that?”

  ? “Not normally. That’s the kind of training they do from level six, once you’ve got a year or more of experience. The only time I’ve ever heard of it…”

  ? Her eyes widened slightly, and her jaw clicked shut. She glanced at something he couldn’t see, her face tightening slightly, and shook her head. “No, that’s not likely. There’s no way, you’re too new. Maybe next year.”

  ? She practically dragged him outside the mess hall and toward the baths. He didn’t want to take a bath in the peak hours after dinner–too many people would be nearby, and he wouldn’t be able to ignore the noise. He tried to resist, but she was too strong to fight off. “Just do it, Grim. We’ll make it quick. You have to heal. Fucking Fendel, I’m going to peg him with an ice ball for this.”

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  —

  ? Veyra leaned against the wall of the mess hall, carefully tucked into the shadows in such a way that she wasn’t invisible, but hard to notice. It was her favorite form of remaining unnoticed when she wanted to do a little snooping. And today, she was snooping more than ever. She watched as her latest target was hauled off toward the baths, more dragged than carried by Miranda. She didn’t miss the quick flicker of a glare that was thrown her way, but she ignored it. Miranda was level thirteen, almost fourteen. She knew just as well as Veyra what was needed for the guild.

  ? “I do think you’ve been going a bit harder than necessary on him, though,” she muttered idly, staring at the door. “I mean, really. Putting him through your level seven trial? Even I think that’s going too far.”

  ? “I’ll make sure to check with you in the future, then,” Fendel growled. “If I ever feel like you know the first thing about training the young.”

  ? A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, and she was ready to give him her most witty retort, but he cut her off. “You told me to make sure he’s ready for the tournament. You didn’t ask if I thought he was. That means you want my standard. And you know what that means.”

  ? So she did. Veyra rubbed her left shoulder with a grimace, as if she could still feel that painful bruise over ten years later. She’d been right where Grim was in the past, trying to hit the expert weapons master without being hit in return. She’d been level five when she managed the feat, which damn near made her a prodigy among his students. If Fendel thought Grim could do it at level four…

  ? “Well, I know better than to question you, at least,” she said. “Just… don’t break him, please. There are some powerful people I don’t want to have to contend with just yet.”

  ? She’d been dutiful in keeping Grim’s secret since they had left Evandross. Only her primary lover, Orren, knew the truth of the boy’s past. It was his guild, after all. And if she was going to get her way, she’d need his help. That made her think of another thing, something which brought a broad grin to her face. “Just wait until I tell you what Manos found. You’re going to love it.”

  ? Fendel bared his teeth in a pleased grin. “Now there’s a monster like any other. Tell your brother I said hello. I enjoyed my time fighting by his side. Shame he had to go and grow up so quickly. We might have had a proper youth.”

  ? Veyra nodded, and Fendel was gone. Damn, but he was good at moving without being seen. She never quite knew if he’d really gone, or had lingered about, ready to catch any rude comment his students offered about his personage. He’d never openly admitted to any spying, but he did seem to have far more information than seemed strictly possible…

  ? Orren entered the mess hall from his office door, and she was at his side in an instant, resting one hand on his shoulder. She could feel the stiffness there, she thought. So much responsibility for such a free spirit. She knew he hated the office, more than she ever could. But he took the burden willingly, so that their beloved guild wouldn’t fall into the control of the enemy. It was bad enough they’d gotten their hooks into the Council of Guilds. Not her guild, she thought with a barely suppressed sneer. Not her home.

  ? “Your mask is slipping, dear,” Orren said, putting an arm around her waist. She felt a small thrill go through her as he easily lifted her with the arm. She loved it when he lifted her for a kiss, even if she was a head or two taller than him. He was just… the most solid among her lovers. The most grounded. Her favorite. No matter how they might play around with others, they came back to this: the simple touch of the one they loved most.

  ? “Right you are, dear,” she said, attempting to use her most charming face. “Are you finally done with all that dreadful paperwork? You’re going to rot away under all that nonsense, and I made us reservations.”

  ? “No, no more work,” he said, grinning broadly at her. Stooping slightly, he scooped one arm under her knees, lifting her easily. “I have the rest of the night off to spend spoiling you, my love.”

  ? She gave a happy little mewl at his charm. It almost made her want to throw work aside for the night and really spend some time having fun. If only they didn’t have something to deal with tonight. Still, she enjoyed the fantasy for a moment, nuzzling her nose against his and breathing in the scent of ink and paper. Most women liked flowers. She loved the smell of her man’s work.

  ? “Oh, that sounds lovely,” she remarked, keeping up the act. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get out of here before I decide I just want to eat you.”

  ? She felt the shiver run through his body at the thought, and bared her fangs. An audible groan sounded from a nearby corner, where someone had doubtless noticed their open flirting. They weren’t trying to hide it, after all. The more witnesses, the better. “Get a room! You’re almost forty!”

  ? She gave the guildmate a casual finger as Orren carried her towards the entrance, ostensibly taking her out on the town for a date. Laughter echoed behind them at the antics. Grumble all they did, the guild loved their Guildmaster and Captain, and wouldn’t dream of forcing them to change.

  ? They kept up the act of the loving couple all the way through Relvan’s gate, without much difficulty. Then, once they were clear of it and down a side alley where none could see them, they allowed the smiles to drop from their faces. She met his eyes in the dark and let out a low breath. “Time to get to work.”

  ? He nodded. When he spoke, he’d dropped the warm, flirty tone. Now, it was cold as ice. A different kind of chill went down her spine as she heard it, though still just as pleasant. “After you, my love.”

  ? Baring her teeth again, she clambered up the side of the building beside her, then offered a hand down to help him up. From there, they raced across rooftops, light-footed as alley cats. She spared only a moment’s thought for the warm restaurant, where she had indeed made reservations. Their food was amazing, possibly the best in the city. Perhaps they’d go there another day for real. For now, they had work to do.