“I don’t think three per cent would be enough for my superiors to agree to this idea. It represents a threat to security that would warrant at least a twenty-five per cent discount, to make up for the additional work,” Light said slowly.

  “You’d be making a killing in travel costs. How much does it cost to supply a group of your boys and girls for a three-week journey to go respond to some heresy or witch or whatever out in the sticks? And all that time! Once the network is up and running properly, you’ll only ever be a few days' ride from anyone who needs burning at the stake.”

  “But the network isn’t set up yet, and half the realm is against your faction. You won’t be able to follow through on what you’re offering.”

  I knew this was probably what is technically referred to as a dick move, but I was going to do it anyway. “We’ll win the war. Come inside and let’s talk this through. Drinks are on me.” I saw him wince at my offer. “I’ll get Kat to go through the details with you; she’s fair.”

  “She’s system-bound to you. And she’s a damn pixie. She can’t be trusted on multiple levels.”

  “OK, fine. Someone else. Come inside, and we can talk.” I put an arm over his armoured shoulders and led the man back into the pub.

  The crowd had returned to normal, and Esme and Jenny were working from the remains of the counter to refill glasses and take orders. The happy hum of commerce filled the air, and a new pair of robo-bunnies had taken up position next to the portal. Their heads scanned back and forth constantly, clearly unwilling to be taken by surprise again.

  I led Light Invincible over to my usual table and pressed him into the seat opposite my usual spot. After I sat down, I produced a bottle of Golden Jack and a pair of glasses, pouring two generous measures and sliding one over to him.

  “This is the good stuff, dude. Have a sip.” Glitter popped out around me. Not being able to play poker anymore was fine, but having such an obvious tell was going to be a pain once I went back to dealing with the idiot nobles in the capital.

  “I can’t. But I really want to. Ebrius has a hold on my soul that I’ve fought for a long time. I… I recently succumbed to my demons again. It started in my early twenties. A girl broke my heart, and I lost several years to despair.”

  Gods bless you, Tim, and your fucked up magic truth stool.

  “I know how it feels, mate. Sam… back home… she was everything to me, but she didn’t see me the same way. Sometimes, a glass of whisky is the only thing that helps with old heartbreaks.” I took a long sip and waggled my eyebrows at the man.

  He stared at the amber liquid in front of him. “Prissa. She was my sun, my stars, the illumination of my world. I was admitted to the Quaestors during my eighteenth summer, and we were very much in love. I was hot-headed, passionate about the Cause and determined to leave my mark on the world. But my love for her was… set aside as I embraced my calling. I thought she’d wait, give me the time and stand by me. I was wrong. I really want to drink that.”

  I was going to be something utterly horrific in my next life. Some kind of shit-eating amoeba-monster, a urinary tract infection, or a politician. But I could do some real good by bringing this disconnected world closer together with the portals… and get stupidly rich in the process.

  Healers would be able to pass from town to town in seconds, and merchants could trade in one place in the morning and another a thousand miles away in the evening. People could live in the rural wonderland with its views and clean air, then commute to work in cities and towns by strolling through a Bobtal. A BENTal? I needed to work on the name.

  Would it balance everything out? I thought so. But to get my way, I needed to boot Light Invincible off the wagon. And that was just evil.

  “Sometimes it’s the only thing that can soothe a wounded soul.” I took a sip like the bastard I was. “I think I might be able to go as far as five per cent, but in light of the epic savings you’ll make with access to the network, you’re still going to be making a killing.”

  “She had the brownest eyes I’ve ever seen. You love Esme, don’t you? How would you feel if she were to turn her back on you in favour of a book binder?”

  “I’d probably have a drink.”

  He reached for the glass. I blew a kiss at Esme and mouthed the words “get Kat, please” at her. She looked confused for a moment, then shrugged and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “I have renewed my vows to Sobrii.” His hand hovered a couple of inches from the glass. I reached out and slid it between his open fingers.

  “He’ll understand, buddy.”

  His fingers closed and lifted the glass. He took a deep sniff of the harsh liquid and swallowed convulsively before draining half the glass. I was definitely going to be a politician in my next life.

  “You have no idea how good that feels. You’re a dragon, you don’t really have feelings beyond greed and anger.”

  “I’m a bit more complicated than that,” I objected.

  “Nah. It’s about the wossnames. Parts.” He drained the rest of his glass, and I topped him back up. “You don’t have the mammal bits, so you’re just cold and dead inside. It’s why we can’t trust your sort, you’ll do whatever you want if you see a profit or you get pissed off.”

  He wasn’t entirely wrong. Not about being dead inside, Wrath was working up a head of steam at the insults, but about my primary motivations.

  “It’s not as clear-cut as that.”

  “But it is.” He took another swig. “You’re too stupid to see it, but it’s clear you don’t have any idea what you’re doing. Like giving the Quaestors access to this portal network. We have hunter teams as well. You so much as hiccough wrong and the Mill will be swarming with big mean bastards looking to turn you into potions and armour.”

  “Thanks for the heads up. What do you think I should be doing?” Don’t kill him and reanimate him, Bob. His bosses would probably notice if I did.

  “Getting right with the gods. You should be atoning for your sins, both from your old life and this one.”

  "I’m working on it, dude. Ah, thanks, Kat. Five per cent?” I asked as a floating Pika-stripper appeared next to me and slid a sheaf of paperwork onto the table.

  “Yep. Nice to see you, Quaestor,” Kat said with a smile at the now inebriated man as he reached for the bottle I’d left on the table.

  “Devilish harlot! Foul spawn of the nether-pixies… nethers. Avaunt!”

  “Bob, if you want to eat this guy, you have my blessing,” she said icily before flittering back into the kitchen.

  “See! You like eating people. People! Like the monster you are. Bob… You know you’re an arse, right?” He was no longer using his glass. I think truth, sloth and booze might have been a bit too much for him to handle, especially after I just scrambled his brain again.

  “I don’t like it–”

  “They taste good, though, don’t they? Better than monsters or a steak dinner.”

  “Well, kind of–”

  “You see? You’re just a catastrophe waiting to happen. I almost feel sorry for you. It’s got to be horrible knowing that you’re a threat to everyone you manage to vaguely care about in your limited, stunted, draconic fashion. Whatever you do, at some point you’re going to fuck everything up and it will get people killed.”

  I was willing to take a lot of shit to get approval from the Inquaesition for a portal in Ankmapak. But this was starting to go too far. I was shedding sparkles like a… well, like a sparkler. My internal menagerie of psychosomatic avatars was also going crazy. Profit. It was all about the profit. And making the world a better place!

  “I protect my own,” I growled. “Look, have a quick gander at this. If you are ok with it, just scribble your name down right about there and I’ll leave you with my bottle.”

  He looked down at the document and squinted at it suspiciously. He leafed through the pages with one hand, then met my eyes again. “Pen?”

  I passed him a quill and a pot of ink. Biros! Now there was a money maker. I’d have a word with Tim. Light Invincible squiggled something that was utterly illegible, but I assumed was legally binding.

  “Lovely.” I snatched the paperwork up and secreted it in my possum pouch. “You have a good night, Mr Invincible.” I didn’t eat the bastard.

  “You’re a curse, Bob. A plague. You’ll be the cause of the end of the Empire. I can feel it in my water.”

  “Well, your piss might just be wrong.”

  How wrong I really wasn’t sure. If I didn’t eat Harald, he might fulfil the prophecy about the Primal Empire and bring about the end of the human one. I was still uncertain what to do about that. My eyebrows shed golden lights as I frowned. I’d gotten used to it now, and I barely noticed the distraction.

  “My piss is always right,” Light muttered.

  “Say, why don’t you tell me about your mother. I’ll just be in the kitchen, so feel free to raise your voice.” I asked.

  As he began regaling the room with his childhood trauma, I slipped away with a snigger and left him to it. I called out the odd “uh-huh” to keep him going as he ranted about his potty training.

  “Right. I’ve got the thing from the secret police. Creville, Neville, shall we go have a word with Beville?”

  “You’ll need this,” Jenny said, placing a wicker basket that steamed slightly and gave off the uniquely alluring smell of freshly baked goods.

  “Bob, love. Why is the Quaestor telling the bar about the first time he got caught touching himself?” Esme called from the other side of the curtain.

  “Oh, just don’t let people sit on that stool. When he falls asleep, push him off, and he’ll be back to normal. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or so.” A harsh but fair lesson, in my opinion. I wasn’t a monster. On the inside. Mostly. Meh, fuck that guy.

  “Beville is a bit… finicky,” Creville said.

  “How so?” I asked with a sigh. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I needed a site in the big city.

  “He’s very religious.”

  I clapped my hands, causing yet another shower of sparks.

  “That’s fine. I’m the Champion of Bulb.”

  I used a gem to open a portal to the courtyard of the Long Horn. As the three of us stepped through the stink of smoke, a nearby tannery, and the miasma of half a million or so unwashed bodies hit my tongue. Marketing a commute chit was going to make me so much money.

  The coachhouse was boarded up. I still owed Seb a little more torment for betraying me on my first visit, but in the early twilight, the pub filled me with memories of home, and my petty revenge on Light Invincible had placated my more extreme emotional anthropomorphisations. The tarred wooden beams, whitewashed walls, and windows filled with the flickering light from the fireplaces inside left me feeling all warm and fuzzy. Scaly. Whatever.

  “Let’s go have a chat with Brother Shining Glass.”