Six hours.

  Six motherfuckin' hours of my miserable life spent being interrogated by a hungry demi-god wearin' an accountant's bland mug. Some part of me almost thought it comedy, but the more and more I talked about the Vault, about all that evil shit in the dark, the harder it was to see the light.

  When I was done, Alexander had a dozen pages worth of notes, and looked like he'd just eaten an Uruk sourfruit raw.

  "And it's all backed up by my people’s account. Xoxoctic and Miss Laticia are both members of the University in excellent standing and have confirmed the veracity of his words," Clarke had provided. The old Professor looked tired and was a little deeper in his cups than a man of such lofty station ought to be.

  "Of course they would," muttered Alexander, his gaze lingering on me as I slouched against the cushioned armrest.

  "You don't believe them? Or you think I'm lying?"

  "No. No, I believe every word, and that's why I'm worried, Lorcan," Alexander sighed and tossed his notebook aside, "Anasisi, live Anasisi guarding the corpse of some preserved dragon. That's the kind of shit that brings the big guns, the old powers back home will be crossing the sea in droves if they think there's even a snowball's chance in the Abyss of bagging their own true Wyrm."

  Professor Clarke nodded, "Not to mention the incident with the Entropic incursion. I know neither of you are likely to know, but that shouldn't have been possible, not here on Nova Terra. The mana is far less abundant than back home in Kairnwoad, on the surface at least. the dunes are dry of more than just water and life. I suspect our expedient was targeted, perhaps even by a Witch, though I've no proof."

  I chewed my lips in preparation to ask what I knew as probably a dumb question, "What's the difference? Between a Winter Wyrm and a real dragon. I know the story, but kind of always lumped the two together a little. What's the difference?"

  "The difference is, Lorcan? You shot the balls off a Winter Wyrm," Clarke laughed, "shouldn't it be apparent?"

  Alexander nodded, "Yeah. It's like comparing a housecat to a nightstalker. The thing that drove you and Clarke off is a fart in the wind compared to the that dead monster beneath the sands."

  "Great," I muttered, "so I did good destoryin' it then? That's good."

  Alexander and Clarke both looked at me like I was a stupid dog.

  "It's a bit more complicated than that," he stood and drew in a sigh, "complicated for me and Clarke anyway. As far as you're concerned, this matter is done. I just have two things to ask of you, Lorcan."

  "Two?" Clarke said with a huff, "trying to stuff him in your pocket too Alex? Thought we discussed this," there was a little fire in his old, grey eyes, a bit of menace in the way the fluffy caterpillar on his lip up and quivered.

  Alexander smiled and laid his palms out in supplication, "I'm not going back on our deal, Clarke-"

  "What deal?" I snapped, "and how many hands is this fucking deck in, anyways? I don't like the way you folk talk. Seems like a bunch of secrets and double crosses. I don't play that gentlemen. You deal straight, or I'll walk right out."

  "Will you?" Alexander asked, his aura leaking out in a wave.

  I grinned and ignored that animal part of me that was afraid. It made me feel sick, made my hand quiver and shake, but fear couldn't stop such determined breed of stubborn and ornery, "Sure... will." I forced through clenched teeth, and the guild master's smile dropped.

  "Fine," he muttered and the power was gone, "you're an interesting fellow, Lorcan. If we'd had more like you, I might have less of a problem with the rot, but alas, the world isn't what it should be. You've impressed me, young man, and in light of your service, and the fact that I am quite confident you aren't a threat, I have a proposition for you," he smiled, "this is me dealing straight, kid."

  I relaxed and nodded.

  "Go on then."

  "Good. Good. Now, here are the terms. You work exclusively for the Hunter's Guild now. No side jobs, not private bounties, nothing on paper anyway. Your time and your services will be dedicated to the betterment and safety of the colony. In exchange, we will pay you handsomely. You will be given a promotion and a raise, and select contracts, specifically those issued by Mister Clarke and the University. You proved yourself a capable delver. That's far more rare than you think."

  I scoffed, "So you two brought me here, grilled my ass like a gulper over hot coals, just so you could give me the hard sale about workin' with other outfits?"

  "Yes," Alexander and Clarke said in unison.

  I gaped, "Gentlemen. I know I'm the dummy in this room, but did ever occur to you that if I intended to work with other groups, and not the Hunter's Guild, I probably have already? Like, maybe I would dodged this meeting and all your questions and ran instead of coming here?"

  The two old men blinked and shared a look.

  "Huh," Alexander breathed, "never thought of that. Most people who run from the Guild don't make it very far-"

  "I ain't most people, sir. That has been done established."

  Clarke covered a snort with a gnarled hand, but that caterpillar showed his amusement, "Fair enough. Fair enough. Still, what Alex proposes is still essential. I know you probably consider paperwork only fit for trail tissue, but contracts have power, Lorcan. I," he nodded to Alexander, "we need assurance. I sacrificed much to come to this New World. And now you will need a to sacrifice a little to remain here. There are others who will approach you with less favorable offers and far more dangerous questions," he gave me a level look.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "... Like what?"

  "Like the exact degree of your mutations. Like the fact that you obviously have a non-Divine Patron and have demonstrated explosive growth that seems, frankly, unnatural. Like the fact that Thomas Hartwell's half eaten corpse was found after a Magisterial Inquisitor went to investigate his death. Like the fact, Mister Roche," Alexander said as he returned to his cabinet of secrets and drew out a sheaf of papers, "that you're in contact with the Flock."

  Shit.

  There eyes flicked down the moment that truth fell from the guild master's lips. Some part of me savored the shock as steel cleared leather before either of the two old monsters could blink.

  There was no room to play. I had been caught. I wasn't about the exact law but conspiring against the Empire with a mad saint was at least a hangin' offense. If these two knew, there was no telling how many others did.

  "How many others," I hissed, and the gun was up, pointed square at Alexander's face.

  He didn't even flinch, "Fuck he is fast."

  "Told you," Clarke said conversationally, pouring himself a few more fingers of herbal smelling gin, "Lorcan, put the gun down son! There is no need for this."

  I snarled, "I'll be the judge of that. I will gun both you down, don't give no-"

  "No one knows, Mister Roche," Alexander said with a chuckle, "no one but me and a few choice agents. Listen kid, if I wanted you back in Imperial irons-"

  Fuck did they know everything? How? When had I fucked up?

  "-I could have had you arrested the moment you tried to pass falsified information through one of our slates," he paused and frowned, "well, no I guess Temperance tried that. You were just a pawn in that little game of hers."

  "Wait," I growled, and a thought flashed in my mind, "ya'll have known I was... That I knew Temperance for a while then. Why am I still alive? Why are we having this chat?"

  Clarke smiled, "Because, son, we don't disagree with what she's trying to do. Both of our organizations have... qualms about what the Empire has begun on Terra Nova. I staked my entire career, my position, my honor on those qualms, and lost. This was supposed to be a new land, a new beginning not more of the fucking same.” He sighed and sank a little, another few years added to what was probably centuries, ”Yet they've used the uncertain status of the Outcasts as an excuse to re-institute chattel slavery. They've had the Governor Duke and his Magistrates giving both our University and the Hunter's Guild a very troublesome time. They want changes. They are turning this colony into a recreation of the Old World, and that's not a world for me, for you, even for old monster's like Alex or Temperance."

  Alexander gave a slow nod, and the weight of his gaze told me he wasn't a fan of my guns any longer, "We could have killed you. We could have handed you over to the inquisitors or had you strung up for the myriad murders and thefts committed by a man matching your description, but we didn't. And we won't. Truth is Lorcan," Alex stood and crossed the distance then deftly snatched the barrel of one of my guns from the air, the pressure of his aura made me freeze. i could only listen, stare, "I don't give a fuck about the Saint's little rebellion. I don't care if you're a killer," he twisted and tore the pistol from my grip.

  I would've shot, but I couldn't. I would've run, but feet didn't seem to work.

  He twirled the revolver on a finger, caught it and dropped the cylinder. He emptied the bullets into his palm and tossed the now useless chunk of iron and steel to the side. In a flash he'd done the same with my other.

  "Truth is Lorcan... I like you," he said, his face breaking into a wide grin, "I'm willing to look the other way. Hell, I'm willing to cooperate. As we speak I have two agents meeting with Temperance in her little hidden church. They are telling her exactly the same things I'm telling you now. So, what will it be, kid? Are you with us?"

  I stood there, dumbfounded.

  "Or against us?"

  Clarke and Alexander watched, patient, calm, like predators waiting for the wounded prey to either try and run, or come closer and die.

  I did neither, instead, stepped around Alex like he was a lamppost, barely managing to make my legs obey as I grabbed that fine bottle of whiskey and put it to my lips.

  The sweet burn filled my mouth and I swallowed a whole swig, and then another.

  "He really is quite the character," Clarke laughed and offered a cigar, "take one. It'll steady the nerves. Gods know it helps me."

  I sniffed and took the offered ghostleaf roll, "Seems to me, gentlemen, that I've got three hands in my pants, gripping my sweaty balls. I don't much like this feeling."

  "Tell me about it kid," Alex said with a shrug, returning to his seat, "I've got a whole damn country's worth of hands squeezing my 'nads, and it's a helluva lot more painful than the gentle touch of a Saint and two old men," he poured himself a drink and knocked it back, "I'm sorry for the hard sell, but you asked me to deal straight."

  "And I'm grateful for that," I said, lighting the cigar and taking a few puffs, "better to know you're gettin' fucked them wake up halfway through the act," I sighed and turned my attention to Clarke, "can't say I expected all this skullduggery from you, sir. Figured you were better than that."

  "I was." Clarke said simply, "your answer Lorcan? Will make a deal with us devils three? Or will you fight us until you're hoisted by your own petard?"

  I rolled my shoulders and took a long drag on the cigar. It was good, strong and sweet. The taste and the smoke seemed to settle my nerves.

  "Oh please, I met devil before. Ain't none of ya'll it," I drew again, until the cherry had ran halfway through the rich, dark leaf, "I'll make your deal. But I want a few things in return."

  Alexander's lip twitched, but Clarke grinned, "Name 'em, boy. And Alex, you shut the fuck up."

  "Fine," muttered the guild master, "but if he starts asking for-"

  "I ain't going to ask for the world, Mister Alexander," I said with a shrug, "just a bit of trust, a little help, a little trainin' and some good information."

  Alexander's eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be considering his words, "You want trust and information. Done. Training is his department though. I employ those who do, not those who teach."

  "And that raise and promotion too." I countered. Alexander help up a hand and then grabbed a stone slate from his pocket. He tapped at it and then a few minutes later a knock came, "come in Tawny."

  She popped her head in and smiled, "Everything alright sir?"

  "Perfect. Tawny, congratulations. You're approved as a senior handler. Mister Roche is your first and only Trailhand. Consider him competent to take rank three requests. Prioritize any given by the University."

  She beamed, and her smile was brighter than the sun itself, "Thank you sir! This means the world."

  "Uh huh," he said with a shooing motion, "Clarke?"

  "Ah, yes. I can find you someone to help you develop on your... unique Path. Easily. Come by the University tomorrow."

  "Great. Done. Anything else?"

  I chewed my lip and tried to think calm, cool. I pissed though, these old fuckers had me on a leash and we both knew it. If I was going to end up a dog, might as well be a spoiled on, I supposed.

  A minute more of hard though and a grin split my lips.

  "Yeah, one more thing..."