“This is far enough,” Master Fatty Chunk said.

  He turned toward the girls behind me. “You three, gather round.”

  They stepped closer.

  “Closer,” he said. “This won’t work unless you’re touching. Hold my hand. This is going to be rough.”

  Clarice and Meka locked hands. Winnie hesitated for half a second, then grabbed on. Master Fatty Chunk reached back and took Winnie’s hand.

  The world blurred.

  One moment we were there. The next, we were in the redwoods.

  The three of them spun in place, shock written across their faces.

  Winnie gagged and threw up.

  Clarice stumbled, caught herself, then straightened, breathing hard. “What just happened?”

  “I took us to the redwoods,” Master Fatty Chunk said, like it was nothing at all.

  This was the second time I had experienced something like this. Or rather, not seen it so much as endured it. I still did not understand what he had done, but I had been more prepared for it than they were.

  The chickens in the cage slung over his shoulder were completely still. They might have fainted. They might have died. I did not know enough about chickens to be sure.

  “All right, you lot,” Master Fatty Chunk said. “Once you can stand without falling over, get ready to fight. I’m going to find you a boss. Shouldn’t take long.”

  He gestured to the clearing. “Don’t leave this area. I prepared it beforehand. Nothing should wander in for a while.”

  He set me down.

  The moment my feet hit the ground, the weight of my backpack slammed into me. I still wasn’t attuned to it.

  The pack dragged me backward and then collapsed onto my chest.

  Air blasted out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. My vision went dark at the edges. My eyes bulged as I tried and failed to suck in air.

  Master Fatty Chunk reached down, grabbed the backpack with me still tangled in the straps, and lifted it away in one smooth motion.

  “You’ll attune to that later,” he said. “For now, don’t die.”

  Then he walked off between the redwood trunks, leaving the four of us alone.

  I lay there for a second, coughing, then forced myself upright.

  “I am truly, truly sorry about this,” I said. “I had no idea he would do this. If I did, I would have warned you earlier.”

  Meka adjusted her glasses, glancing around. “It’s okay,” she said, though her voice wavered. “Are we really in the redwoods?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Clarice swallowed. “And are we really going to fight an iron-ranked boss?”

  I nodded. “The first day of my training with him, he threw me into a fight with an Iron-ranked monsters.”

  Winnie stared at me. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” I said. “I also don’t think that’s going to change anything. I don’t think he cares much for laws.”

  Winnie wiped her mouth, then grinned. “You know what? That’s… guys, this is going to be awesome. Imagine how badass we’ll be when we hit gold and we’re fighting up tiers. The dungeon rewards danger.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “When I trained with him,” I said, “the monsters I killed had an inordinate amount of cores. I fought nine and I got like six cores.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Clarice’s eyes widened. “Six? Are you kidding me? Were they mini-bosses or something?”

  “No,” I said. “Just regular monsters. Horrible tentacle snake things. Tentasnakes. I didn’t know what they are called exactly. They were snake-like quadrupeds with tentacles on their backs.”

  The realization hit me all at once.

  “Oh God. I should have looked up what we were fighting after he took me here. I should have looked them up in the bestiary or brought a bunch of them with me.”

  “Azolo, stop,” Clarice said.

  “What?”

  “You’re doing that thing again,” she said. “Where you spiral because you missed one detail that no one would be prepared for.”

  “Yeah,” Winnie said. “You’re runting again.”

  I blinked. “That’s a verb?”

  “And I’m a verb?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Winnie said. “We thought you knew, we use it all the time.”

  “Oh Gods,” I groaned.

  I rubbed my face. “Does anyone have any idea what monsters roam the redwoods?”

  Clarice frowned. “I think they’re called amalgamations. They’re like chimeras, but not so stitched together.”

  She waved a hand as she searched for the words. “They’re more like two creatures that look like one creature. Like a griffin. Or a hippogriff. You know what I mean?”

  She paused, then nodded. “And I think the one you’re talking about is called an octosnake.”

  “That’s it,” I said. “Octosnakes.”

  My thoughts immediately ran ahead of me.

  They didn’t actually have eight limbs. Or did they? Did tails count? And if they did, wouldn’t that make nine? Four tentacles, two legs, two arms...

  I kept replaying the creature’s image in my mind, muttering to myself, trying to force the memory into something solid instead of the half-formed mess of writhing bodies and screaming that kept slipping through my fingers.

  Clarice stepped forward and grabbed my arm. “Azolo. Stop. You’re runting again.”

  I forced myself to breathe and snapped out of it.

  She looked me in the eye. “You got an ability, right? You said you had an idea. What exactly do you think you can do?”

  I looked down at my feet. “I think I can do this.”

  I stomped.

  A faint burst of heat flared. A thin wisp of smoke curled up from where my foot struck the ground.

  I stared at it. “Well. Damn. That’s not nearly as impressive as I thought it would be.”

  Clarice squinted. “So your foot smokes?”

  “No,” I said. “I think my feet are supposed to light things on fire.”

  Winnie snorted. “That’s convenient, considering your skirt.”

  “It’s a loincloth,” I said.

  “Whatever,” she replied. “Your loincloth.”

  She frowned. “Still. If that’s all it does."

  "I don’t know how it works.” I stiffened. “Also… I think he’s coming back.”

  Meka shifted her weight slightly, hooves pressing into the ground, then nodded. “Yes. That direction. I can feel him.”

  She frowned. “It’s scary how fast he moves. I can barely feel him touching the ground. I know it’s him because that’s the direction he went, and it feels like him through the vibrations, but it’s like he’s taking ten steps for every one that should exist.”

  “Yes,” I said. “He’s terrifyingly strong and fast.”

  Clarice spoke up. “And he’s apparently friends with Erdale Watersong.”

  She crossed her arms. “My uncle says there are only so many people at that tier. He’s pretty sure he knows all of them, and he’s never mentioned this master.”

  She hesitated. “From what my brother said, It seems that Master Fatty Chunk knows about my uncle at least.”

  That settled into place in my mind.

  Duke Claremont stood in the same league as Master Fatty Chunk and Erdale.

  Well. Damn.

  I finally understood why Oliver liked to ask if people knew who his father was. Duke Claremont was not someone I wanted to antagonize.

  At least I was on better terms with his niece and nephew than when I had started. His son was another matter entirely, and I hoped that would not come back to haunt me later.

  This time, Master Fatty Chunk returned holding what looked like a shark with a bad attitude, wings sprouting where fins should have been. The thing thrashed and snapped, its body twisting in the air, but he held its jaws shut with one hand and slung it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing at all. His grip looked absolute, the kind where, if the creature truly tried anything, it would die before finishing the thought.

  He looked at us. “All right. Go.”

  Then he threw it.

  There was no time to prepare.

  I dove instinctively, throwing myself out of the way, heart hammering.

  Clarice backpedaled hard, fumbling as she unslung her bow from her back. Her fingers slipped as she tried to string it on the move.

  “This would have been a really good time to have done this beforehand,” she snapped through clenched teeth.

  Meka froze, eyes wide, as the thing hurtled straight toward her face.

  Winnie moved.

  She swung Log in a wide, brutal arc, the impact cracking through the clearing as the flying shark slammed into the blow instead of Meka. The hit did not do much damage, not yet. Winnie had not grown large, but Log was still a fucking log, and it was enough to knock the creature off balance.

  It flapped wildly, struggling to reorient itself, then turned its head.

  It looked at Winnie.

  Then it looked at me.

  The smallest target. The easiest to remove.

  I had not even attacked it, and it already seemed ready to kill me.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “I really wish I had pulled my staff out.”

  I had a cage of chickens. A backpack I still could not lift. And my tiny four-year-old body.

  I stomped, trying to force my new ability to respond.

  The spark sputtered. Then it died.

  I still did not know how this worked.

  Too late, I realized the thing was almost on top of me.

  Winnie roared as her ability finally surged, her body swelling into her larger form.

  “Oh, that’s a great ability, Winnie,” Master Fatty Chunk called from somewhere behind us. “I like that one a lot. You’re going to be a giant one day. A giant dwarf." He laughed. "Like me.”

  “You're only a quarter dwarf,” Winnie shouted back.

  “It still counts,” he said smiling.

  Winnie swung again, Log blazing as the enchantment ignited, the massive weapon careening straight toward the flying shark monster in front of me.

  I dropped flat, the only thing I could think to do, just in time to avoid getting a face full of teeth.