I stared down at the red-scaled halfpint. She looked up at me like a barn cat who'd just got off with a spring pullet.

  "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

  "You're my mentor!"

  "The hell I am," I shot back, my hands finding my hips just the same way my mama used to, "Shorty you don't need to be out there doin' what I do. You don't need to go back to places like that godsdamned vault."

  Her eyes narrowed, and I could see a spark of anger.

  "Roche," she began, her voice low, "don't tell me what I need. I'm a grown woman. Just because you like to infantilize me, and I tolerate it to a certain degree, doesn't actually make me a child. I know what I need. I know what I want. I need to see more of this world. I want to learn it's secrets. I can't do that with the University anymore, not directly. So..." she paused, the words seeming to stick, "So I'll do it the only way I can. With you."

  I stared at the girl, the young woman, and realized how little I knew about her. She was an Outcast, the product of the Ascended's continued biomatic manipulation. I knew she was kind, clever, and sometimes even a seer. I knew she was good with my pig and had a knack for alchemy and enchanting.

  I had no idea what her Path was.

  I had no idea what she'd done before the Professor took her in.

  I did not know Shorty. I just knew an idea of her I had put together in that subterranean hell we had both endured.

  "Oh, should I be expecting a second at our training sessions then?" Raph asked, finally cutting in, "I don't mind, in fact, I'd prefer it. I can only practice certain techniques against Roche for so long before they become predictable."

  "Raph," I snapped, "shut the hell up. She can't join the Guild. She can't be a Hunter. She's not, she ain't a damn warrior."

  "That's not how I remember it Roche," she said gripping the cloth covered stump where her right arm once had been, "I remember fighting alongside of you, and I remember paying the warrior's price."

  My lips pressed together, and the guilt burned in my gut. The fact that she used a phrase belongin' to my kin, to the Northmen, the fact she called out payin' the price...

  "I did what I had to do."

  Raph eyes shot up as he put together the story of Shorty's missing limb.

  "And," she said, "I don't hold it against you. But I think it's proof enough I have at least enough grit to handle being a Hunter."

  I was about to tell her no. Tell her it was too dangerous, that the Guild was full of assholes, and that there were safer ways for her to travel the world and find what she was lookin' for.

  But, well, she was right.

  Shorty was no child.

  And I had no right to act the father.

  Why the fuck was I even trying?

  "Fine," I said grabbing Moxie's tusk and leadin' the pig back toward the stables, "you can make your own damn decisions. But I'll be the one diggin' the grave, you hear?"

  "Loud and clear," she shot back, her voice rising, "but I don't plan to die, Roche. I don't plan to be a burden. The old Xoxoctic died in that last hole. The one who couldn't defend herself. This one," she tapped her chest, "she's a fighter."

  "Alright then," I sighed, the anger fading as a wave of exhaustion rolled over me. The whole day, the whole week, the whole godsdamned month since I came to the city, it had been nothing but a mess of trouble. Everyday just seemed to pile another problem or conundrum up around me 'til it felt like I was drownin'.

  "Hey!" came a harsh taiga burr from across the field. All four of us looked up as a short Northwoman stomped forth like a titan on the warpath, "what in the Hearthmother's great gapin' gash have you fuckin' done to my stable?!"

  "Uh, well, Marry, I can explain," Shorty stammered.

  "No need lassie, no need. I know you have nothin' to do with this shite. Not when the fuckin' tomcat in is town," Marry said as she came up and slammed a small fist into my armored vest, "last fucking time he was here me brother died, now he's gone and ruined my business, pissed of my neighbors!"

  Guilt, real and genuine flashed across my face as I recalled our encounter with the Hartwell slaver gang. It was just a couple of weeks ago that the outskirts had been a battlefield.

  Before I could offer any sort of apology or defense though, the little woman changed tack and threw her strong arms around me in a tight hug.

  "Good to see you alive you poxy cunt," she whispered in my ear as I stood stiff, the whiplash leavin' me off balance and dazed, "we got a lot to talk about, but," she released me and stepped back, her face hard, "first we gotta sort out this godsdamned shitshow. You owe me two-hundred gold for the damages to the stables and a hundred and fifty or so to fix what you did to the good folk here. Pay up! Xoxoctic already ratted you out. Some fancy Guild contract." Marry said breaking the hug and shoving a grimy hand at me, "so, pay up!"

  I sighed and dug into my sodden coat for the billfold I kept the Guild notes in.

  I took out five bills, each good for fifty gold pieces and handed them to the Northwoman. She gave a nodded and then closed her hand, but I caught her wrist before she could ferret the windfall away. She glared, but that lasted all of a full second as I withdrew two more notes and handed them to her.

  "Here," I muttered, "for Moxie's keepin'. That should last me a few seasons at least."

  Marry took the notes and gave me a strange look, her eyes flitting between my face and the folded paper, "Maybe. Depends."

  "On?"

  "On if you keep comin' back to visit. It'll be a lot cheaper to house your pig if you don't go abandonin' her for a fortnight every time you get bored."

  Ah. There we go. That was a little easier to deal with. I appreciated the friendly barb, gave me a reason not to work out the rest of the feelins' churnin' in my gut.

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  "Don't worry. I've got a lot on my plate these days, but I try to never make the same mistake twice."

  "Mhmm, who's this fucking dandy you've got then? He your little boytoy?" Marry asked, eyeing the quiet swordsman, "almost pretty enough for me to take a bite."

  "Uh, thank you? I believe?" Raph said with a nervous chuckle.

  "Raph is a friend and a sparrin' partner," I cut in, "and no, he ain't my 'toy'. I've been too busy to go huntin' for tail."

  "Well that's not true Roche. You came off of an enticing encounter with a mysterious paramour, did you not?" Raph said, diming me out even as he took Marry's hand in an honest bow. There was something sharp in his words, but it fled as soon as he made his introduction, "Raphael Della Luna, at your service. I'm afraid I do not prefer the company of women, however I would be delighted to introduce you to my cousin, Ernesto, when the opportunity presents itself. You may find him more to your-"

  "Gah! I was teasing, I don't bother with lads," Marry laughed, the smile and flush of blush on her freckled face giving away her interest, "and I know who you are, Della Luna. Why are you friends with this mangy tomcat?"

  From then on the conversation devolved into banter. I stood, a bit awkwardly, and smoked a few cigars as they talked, brushed down my pig as I pretended to listen and respond. Shorty did much the same, proving herself a capable hand around my murderous pig.

  We spent a good half hour that way, the sun drifting down toward the horizon, until finally Ernie and Tawny joined us.

  "Oh hey, look at this," Tawny started, "I see you've met your Guild sponsored protégé Roche. Good to see you again Xoxoctic."

  "Uh," I began, not really sure how to respond, "you knew? 'Course you knew. Bet you even knew she was out here at the stables too, didn't you?"

  Tawny smirked, "What can I say? Knowing everything I can about my Hunter's is an essential part of my job. And Marry," Tawny said embracin' the surly stablewoman, "good to see you, how are the drakes doing? The Guild is planning a buy up next year, so let me know if you need anything to get them ready."

  "Yeah, yeah. Always with the buying, the contracts, the deals, listen this season has been good but..."

  As the girls spiraled off into a discussion of business and numbers Ernesto drew me aside and away from the group.

  "Roche, Raph," he said waving to his cousin with all the discretion of a carnival barker, "I, uh, need some advice."

  "What's wrong?" Raph asked, the usual frown returnin' to his face, "is it serious?"

  "Oh yes," Ernie said with a scowl, "very much so. You see," he leaned in some more, dipping down to whisper to the both of us, "it's Miss Tawny."

  I snorted and tore my hat off.

  The girls, Shorty, Marry and Tawny all looked my way. I gave them a short wave, and a reassuring grin as we boys and Moxie walked toward the stables.

  "What is it?" Raph asked, his voice low, "did you do something stupid?"

  "No, no, well..." he paused, the look on his face a mix of confusion and disgust, "I'm not sure. We were talking about horses and riding and the like. And she kept saying how much she likes to ride, especially tall, strong stallions. She want on about dark eyes and strong hands, and I was very lost. We were talking about horses but," he shook his head slowly, "I don't think that's all we were talking about."

  I had to cover my mouth and squeeze until it hurt just to keep from laughing out loud. Raph was no help, the man was a pillar of stoicism. A pillar that was crackin' under the density of his cousin's words.

  "Well," I managed, barely, "maybe you should just take her for a ride."

  Ernesto blinked, and the light dawned in his eyes.

  "You're right, Roche! She was trying to communicate that we should do that together! I am such a fool. For all the songs and stories of love and romance I love, I often struggle to understand the language when it is directed at me."

  I couldn't hold back, and neither could Raph, the man snortin' and a chucklin' so hard he had to lean up against the stable's wall.

  "Hey," I said, "no worries. Just keep a firm hand if she bucks, and you'll be fine."

  Raph and Ernie both stared at me, a bit slack jawed.

  "What? Too far?"

  Ernie sighed and waved a hand, "No that makes sense. I prefer riding mares anyway. I don't have so much pride that I would insist on matching a skilled rider with my own stallion. That would be foolish. So yes, Roche. Good advice, you are a good friend."

  I grinned and patted the younger man on the shoulder.

  "Yes, why not now?" Raph provided, "It is still early in the day. Tawny would be delighted, and you, Ernie, need some... Practice in the saddle. It won't do for a future heir to be so, unpracticed."

  "A fine idea cousin! I shall ride with Miss Tawny until the sun sets."

  "Why stop then?" I asked, "a girl like that is probably good until the mornin' comes."

  The poor sap went redder than a strawberry and Raph smacked me with his fist, his smile hidden behind the gloved hand.

  "Uh, see now I think you might doing exactly what she was..."

  I threw up my hands and backed toward the stables, refusing to explain a damn thing.

  I spent a while just tending to Moxie as my little gaggle of friends and business associates enjoyed an afternoon out of the city. Despite the scent of dug and hard work that clung to the barn like a second skin, there was a sort of peace to it all. A feeling I was used to, but expect at least half in attendance rarely enjoyed.

  It reminded me of home, of my mama and daddy and little Alice. Reminded me of a time before I got so much blood on my hands, and the world seemed simpler just then.

  I trimmed Moxie's trotters and tusks with a file. Much like a horse's hooves, a razorback needed to wear down their most essential tools or else risk serious damage and infection. I also made sure to give her a wash with a bucket of cool water and a stiff brush. She rolled in dirt to protect her skin but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the cleanin' every now and then. I oiled her hide with some sweet-smellin' stuff Marry left in the stall, some herb mix that was supposed to ease her mood.

  And when all was said and done, my girl was as happy as a hog could be.

  "Squee," she snorted, and pressed her great snout into my chest, knocking me down into the straw.

  "Alright, alright, we'll get on out soon. I'm going to take a job in the next few days. I promise a long ride to stretch your legs."

  "Sqwee!" She squealed, her snout and head wigglin' from side to side like a happy dog.

  After that she let me go in peace. Didn't even look up when I came by to make a patched repair to her devastated stall door. Figured that was the least I could do to ensure whoever was unlucky enough to actually fix things came along. Didn't want my hog chompin' down on some poor carpenter.

  As the sun was comin' low on the horizon, me, Rapheal, and Shorty made our exit. Tawny and Ernesto had long since disappeared into the outskirts on a pair of fine Northmen war horses. I hoped they'd both had a good time, and that the young heir had learned a practical lesson or two about the subtle art he seemed so taken with.

  "Goodbye! Stay safe," Marry called, a wave and a smile on her freckled face, "and get back here to visit soon, Roche. I don't care how fuckin' busy you are."

  I tipped my hat and smiled as I waved out the window of the arcane carriage, it's mana engine sputterin' as the driver pulled us up the road and away from Augusts' Hope.

  "Where are we going?" Raph asked, stretching out in the spacious cab now that there was no one on the bench across from him.

  "Shopping right?" Shorty asked, reptilian eyes flicking toward me, "that's still the plan yes?"

  There was a touch of... something hungry in the way a smile crept across her scaly face.

  "Yeah, I need something. Why are you keen on it? Thought you just wanted a ride back into town?"

  Shorty's head jerked toward the window and the desert beyond.

  "Oh, Roche. You silly boy. Because I'm going with you," I frowned, "and as my senior Hunter, my de facto guide in this world of strange wonders and terrors, it is your job to provide me with the equipment, training and experience necessary for my continued survival."

  "What?" Wait. Wait a damn moment-

  "That's right big boy. We're going shopping. And according to the Guild policy regarding proteges," Shorty pulled a small stack of paper from her pack, "the senior Hunter is required to provide their protégé with a stipend sufficient to equip them for missions commensurate with the assumed risk of said mission. "

  Raph gave a slow clap.

  "Bet you haven't even read the handbook, have you Roche?"

  I glared.

  She knew damn well I was born to lead, not read.

  My wallet was already achin'.