I was ponderin' things as we rode along in the Della Luna arcane carriage. Too deep in my own head to awe at the fact that I was riding around in a contraption that likely cost more to run for a day than my family farm had made in a year.

  I was ponderin' a lot lately.

  Seemed like my life was evolvin', changin' in ways I didn't quite understand.

  I guess, really, I was wonderin' about myself. Who was this Roche who rubbed elbows with the rich, signed contracts with the powerful? Who was this man who kept to the city and it's crowded streets, drank fine whiskey in his private apartment and went dancing at dockside taverns?

  Well he wasn't no stranger, but he felt like one.

  Maybe a ghost, a shadow, of the old man. Maybe a facade. How long, I wondered, how long before people realized that I was just a country boy who got real good with guns? How long until the masks were stripped away, and the true me was laid bare for the world to see? How long would these kind and honest folk stick around then?

  "... Roche," Miss Tawny said, kickin' my shin with all the force of an onery rooster wields his spurs.

  "Ow," I muttered, "what?"

  "Gods," she sighed, "we've been asking you the same question for like five minutes."

  "Huh," I grunted, turning from the window, "sorry, must have been distracted. What is it?"

  "Why are we going outside the city to shop? You told the driver to go out the gate near the Guild but why are we-" Tawny stopped, and then clapped hand to her forehead. She of all people she be the one to know, "we're going to the stables, aren't we?"

  "Stables?" Ernesto asked from his seat beside the half-halfing, "wait to see the monster you call a steed? The one you fed Hartford to?"

  I almost laughed at the way his eyes seemed to bulge and his face went pale.

  "Now hold on," I started shakin' my head and broadcasting my disapproval, "only I can call my dear Moxie a monster. You-" I jabbed a finger into his broad chest, "city boy, better watch your mouth."

  Raph chuckled from the front row of seats, "I admit, I for one am excited to meet this beast. She's a razorback hog, yes?"

  I nodded, "Big as the carriage and mean as Magister with a bee in his drawers."

  "Wait," Ernesto began, "Tawny, how did you guess the stables were our destination?"

  She groaned, "Uh, because I'm the reason he even has her, or was. The Guild directs our members to certain vendors and merchants, one of whom is Miss Marry, an... Eclectic Northwoman who deals in specialized mounts. Cares for a lot of the drakes and desert brontos the Guild uses too. She's a friend, sort of. Mostly I just get kickbacks for sending her newbies like him." She pointed at me.

  "Huh," Ernesto muttered, "Isn't that kind of, uh, corrupt?"

  Raph snorted, "Ernie, my dear boy, our own family does just the same. It's corruption, it's symbiosis. If the merchant is trustworthy and the goods are quality, what harm is there in the practice? Our father's have been doing such things for centuries."

  I didn't have much to add, but that answer didn't seem to sit well with the young scion. Sometimes I felt like his naivety was misplaced in the sort of man who'd one day inherit a fortune and an estate.

  And an army. Not to mention at least one assassin maid. Raphael's mama had to do more than 'protect' the family. That woman had a godsdamned aura after all.

  "Still," Ernesto began, his hands moving to smooth out his silk jacket, "still seems kind of dishonest?"

  "Hey, I'm the one what got played here. Don't see me bitchin' about the outcome. Thanks to a couple pairs of greasy palms I got my best friend in the whole world. So," I said, leaning back and lighting up a smoke, "who cares?"

  "Bah, you are too pragmatic sometimes Roche. Don't principles have some place in your world?"

  "Sure," I replied, a wisp of smoke drifting from between my lips, lingering in the air between me and Ernie before being sucked out the open window, "I prefer not to pay a whore, I always take my hat off when in polite company, and I don't ever cheat at cards."

  Well, I don't get caught anyway. Same thing.

  "See," Ernesto said, crossing his arms, "you have standards. Principles. This, I think, is one of mine. When I take over I will have a hard look at these little, 'special agreements' with the merchants and other families."

  "Do as you need cousin, but remember what your father always says," Raph muttered as the carriage came to a slow, then a full stop just beyond the gates, "if you're going to rock the boat, make sure your own crew is tied down. Look after the family first, and the rest will fall into place."

  Ernie's mouth twisted, and he gave a stiff nod, his eyes meeting mine for a split second.

  "Yeah, yeah I remember. Roche, are you coming?" He asked, gesturing toward the door.

  I was a tad lost, and the way the cousins were lookin' at each other made me a bit uneasy. I hated being in the midst of their politicking and manuaverin'. Even if they seemed to have a good way about it, there was too much said between breaths and in the empty moments whenever they talked about family and trade.

  Too much hidden.

  So I took a long, last draw on the cigar and stepped out onto the dusty road.

  The desert sun was high, beginning it's arc down toward the horizon. The air was dry, tinged with dust and the smell of animal dung.

  A few farmhands and other folk of Augusts' Hope outskirts waved hello. Guess they remembered my aid with the Hartwell gang enough to be friendly, despite the company I arrived with.

  "Ah, it's good to be out," Raph exclaimed, a genuine smile painted across his usually stoic features, "I haven't left the city, even a step, in... What? Six months?"

  "More," Ernie added, a sour look still painted across his face, "you've been so focused on your studies. You were supposed to have gone with me on my diplomatic mission, but someone was too busy trying to impress the Uncle with his progress on the Path."

  Raph chuckled, a bit of blush on his face as he turned his eyes down to the dusty road, "Sorry again about that. Might not have needed to rely on Mister Roche's kindness if I had gone."

  Ernesto shrugged, "Or you might have gotten killed like the rest of my guards, who can. As Roche insists, 'maybe and might've is for dipshits'."

  "Hey, now," I cut in, "I never said that. Not exactly that, but I will now." I grinned.

  "Gods, you boys chatter like a gaggle of hens," Tawny said with a small smile, "come on Ernie, let me show you around the area while Roches goes to fetch his pig. The smell in the stables is somehow even worse than this."

  "Hey, a beast has to shit just like you and me. No reason to wrinkle your nose at nature."

  "I can and will," Tawny sniffed, the little woman covering her nose with a handkerchief supplied by Ernie as the two started down the dusty road.

  A few farmers and hands gave me searching looks, but seemed to find their own toil more interesting than the pair.

  "Well shall we then?" Raph asked, gesturing toward the nearby stables. For a split second he crooked his elbow like he was offering me his arm, but the look on my face must've told him it was a bad idea.

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  "Sure," I mumbled, not wanting to linger in the awkward moment, "just follow the sound of snortin' and growlin'. If Marry's not home I doubt she'll mind me just takin' Moxie out for a bit. She's been cooped up a while and, uh, well, I feel pretty poorly for not coming to visit."

  "Is that guilt Roche? You seem so unaccustomed to the emotion," Raph mused, his face twisted in a smirk.

  "Fuck off. I reserve guilt for makin' girls cry and eatin' the last slice of pie, or spilin' a fine glass of drink. Otherwise, that shits for the Chanters and their gods."

  "Truly a philosopher for the age of exploration and industry."

  "Daddy always said I had a big brain," I shot back, a grin splitting my face, "that's why my head don't fit most hats."

  Raph didn't respond, but I could see the laughter writ on his face.

  We walked the dusty, worn trail between the barns, the sounds of bronto and drake and horses ringing out. In the back though, an entirely different call rang out, amplified and echoin' in the enclosed space.

  "Squeee!"

  "Gods fuckin' damnit, stop try to bite you big 'ol bitch!" Cried a woman and a split second later the stall doors a few dozen paces ahead shook. The wood shuddered and bent under the weight of somethin', someone, real onery.

  "Squee! Sqweee!"

  "Aw shit," I said and then broke into a sprint as the squeals became a warcry and the shakin' and a-rockin' threated to bring the whole damn stables down around our ears.

  Raph was close on my heels as I skidded to a stop in the straw strewn dust and tore open the heavy door.

  On the other side I found a very familiar face.

  A red, scaly, and altogether un-Marry-like face.

  "Shorty?"

  "Roche?"

  "Moxie! No!"

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Boom.

  Two thousand pounds of pissed off pig lept over the stunned Outcast she had been meneacin' only second before. I saw murder in her piggy squint as she directed her, fully regrown, tusk right for me. I dove to the side, shovin' Raph off his feet and into an accidental tackle as a furious Moxie decimated the back wall of the stable. Dust swirled and the supporting timbers groaned as a section of roof slid on after the crumbling wall.

  We were... Awful close. I should've been worrying about more practical matters but something in me was distracted-

  "Oh," Raph groaned from his place beneath me, his hands pinned under my armpits and his legs tangled in my own, "uh, Roche. Your hog?"

  Shit.

  "Moxie! Hey, girl, calm down. You're okay," I rolled off Raph and to my feet. I held my arms out, the way a mother would soothe an upset child.

  A hundred paces away, deep in the furrows of a neighboring field, she pivoted, and slid to a stop.

  The beast's eyes narrowed, her massive snout flarin' as she drew in a great breath.

  "Run." I whispered to the two idiots who'd flanked me despite the very obvious threat.

  "Squeeee!"

  "Run!" I roared and took off away from the stables, leavin' my stunned companions to safety while I drew away the four-legged apocalypse that my long absence had unleashed.

  Marry had warned that Razorback Hogs were a needy bunch. Lottie, bless her soul, had said that neglectin' such a noble animal was to court disaster, and yet I still thought that a few days without a proper brushin' and a couple of visits was fine. She hadn't even eaten a bandit since we'd killed Hartwell.

  Gods, who was this new Lorcan Roche? Who was he and why was he such a fuckin' fool?!

  I ran until my legs burned, only the strength of my Path allowing me to keep just ahead of the hooved terror on my tail. I bounded fences as she smashed through them. I danced around crops as she... Well, she didn't.

  In ten minutes I was almost out of the outskirts, the endless expanse of the dunes ahead, but my girl hadn't slowed a wit.

  She was out for revenge, and in that way me and my pig were kindred kind.

  Ain't no way either of us would leave a bloody debt unpaid. Betrayal was met with lead, and sharp ivory.

  And that ivory was mighty close.

  Boom.

  A burst of force, and I was sailing upward, astride a crest of earth and sand. Up and over. I didn't even think about whether or not it would work but it seemed Douce et Doux Drift was good for dodgin' up as it was for dancin' aside or movin' in.

  My boots struck the sand, and I rolled, my body tumbling along until I found my footing. Then lost it immediately as a shit load of porcine muscle into that same drift, scatterin' a ton of sand and making the whole word see to shake.

  I pin wheeled, my arms out as my position of momentary safety eroded underneath my feet.

  And then I fell.

  Right into the waitin' maw of a Razorback Hog.

  I'm sorry mama. I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry Alice.

  I died exactly as all you said. Strung up by my own stupidity.

  Then a familiar voice cried out.

  "Hey! Hey! No! Bad Pig!" screeched Shorty as Moxie caught me in her terrible embrace, slobbery droolin' over me as mismatched teeth threatened to pierce, main and crush.

  The world turned as Moxie swung to glare at the tiny outcast woman, swingin' me like a ragdoll as she did.

  "No, no," Shorty said, her voice stern, but not mean, "no bad pig. Bad pig doesn't get treats, bad pig goes back in the cage."

  "Squee," the big bitch moaned, a pitiful, sad little squeal.

  "Moxie gods damnit, spit me out!" I roared stickin' a finger into her nostril like I was diggin' for gold.

  The pig flinched, the pain and irritation enough to break her concentration. She tossed her head and dropped me on the sand with a dull thud.

  "Good, pig." Shorty muttered, crossin' her arms, "now, what's the rule?"

  Moxie stared at the girl, her gaze baleful, hateful, but there was somethin' in the beast's eyes.

  Dear gods. I knew what that was. Normally I only saw it when it was just me and the porcine terror out on the trail, sharin' bacon over the campfire, or watchin' the sun rise and set over the endless sands.

  It was a kind of, well, love.

  "Squee," she grunted, and stomped her front foot in the dirt.

  "Yes, Moxie, I will tell him how much I missed him too, and that he's a big idiot for taking so long to visit, and that his hat is ugly."

  "Since when do you speak pig?" I asked scooping slobber and dusty mud from my thoroughly ruined clothes, "Also, sorry Moxie. You know how it is. Work and what not."

  The pig grunted and gave a snort of acceptance.

  "You're a bad liar," Shorty said, turnin' to glare at me, "you haven't been to see her in almost a week, Marry even sent a letter when Moxie first started getting antsy. You owe her and the several of the folk here a fat sum of gold, Mister Roche. So where have you been, and who is this handsome young man you've brought?"

  Said handsome man ran up to us at an unhurried jog, a wide grin spread across his face.

  "Hello," Raphael said, dipping into a slight bow towards Shorty, "I'm Raphael, Raph for short. A friend of Roche, and at least part of the reason for his long absence. I've been instructing on behalf of the Della Luna family as part of an arrangement with the Guild and to repay my cousins debt to Mister Roche."

  Ugh. Don't go takin' the blame for my fuck-ups Raph, I'm not worth the trouble.

  "Oh," Shorty began, her expression shifting from annoyance to a small frown, "I thought, well," she turned and looked at me, "I figured you were just drinking and whoring in town. You said you were going to do that, when we were coming back from..." she swallowed a lump, "you know."

  Ain't no one who survived the Vault wanted to remember what they found there. I felt like shit that she'd even need to talk around that evil place. I idly pet my pig, running a gloved hand through the stiff bristles on her snout as she dug her head up into my chest.

  "Sorry Shorty. You're right. I was drinkin' and whorin'. Don't listen to Raph," I said, giving the man a glare, "he's just tryin' to save me from your anger. Truth is, I was bein' lazy and not takin' care of business."

  "That's true," she muttered, her mouth twisting.

  "Now hold on, Roche, no need to-"

  "Well anyway, it's good to see you again."

  "Yeah, I was going to ask about that. Why ain't you up at the University? I met with Clarke a few days ago, he didn't say anything about-"

  "He didn't know," Shorty said, her tone cold, "it's not his business. I was expelled."

  "What?! How the hell did that happen? What could you have possibly done?"

  She glared at me, a dark, hateful thing that was like a blade to the throat.

  "They, the Masters, the Headmistress. They needed a scapegoat. A lot of people died, Roche. You know that. I'm not mad at you about it, but they decided that it was mostly my fault. The official reports cite my failure to properly convey a prophetic vision and my attraction, to the artifact," she emphasized those last points, trying not to say 'possession' and 'dragon corpse' out loud, "as the primary cause of the disaster."

  I felt the heat rising, the fury bubblin' up in my gut.

  "Fuck," I growled, "motherfuckers! You're the only damn reason we had any warning at all!" I snarled, pickin' my hat from the ground and slingin' the snot off as I started a furious march toward the gates. I was fixin' to give those ivory tower sons-a-bitches a little more than a pierce of my mind. I was fix to crack some high brows a fit my monster hide boots up some tight assholes.

  "Roche, wait," Shorty yelled, the girl runnin' and catchin' my hand, "wait, it's okay. I'm not mad. It's not like it was unexpected, not after everything."

  I kept walkin', she was too damn sweet to understand the importance of vengeance. Shorty was too damn sweet for her own good.

  "Roche, it's fine, I'm staying with Marry and helping her around the stables. Professor Clarke is arranging a kind of loophole for me."

  I stopped, turning slowly, "Loophole?"

  Shorty smiled, "Yeah, it's a big secret though. But, maybe, I'll let you in on it," she smiled a little and leaned in. Being the gentlemen he was, Raph pretended to be too far away to hear her stage whisper, "I'm going to be working with you! As a Hunter!"