The beastfolk began lowering themselves down the cliffside with what sounded like ropes.

  They certainly came prepared for all of this, Mariella thought. Used some kind of magic or alchemic blasting substance to blow up part of the mountain they live on, and brought stones, arrows, and rope so that they could finish the job. They must have decent leadership. She looked at Tybalt, who had silently removed his hand from over her lips a moment before. Hopefully that leadership bodes well for your negotiation plan.

  She barely managed to keep from blushing as her mind went over everything that had just happened.

  Why do I keep deferring to him? Mariella tended to obey people in positions of authority. She’d been that way since childhood. On the occasions when she’d reflected on it, she thought it was because her own parents were trustworthy and honorable authority figures.

  But Tybalt didn’t have a superior rank or any formal leadership role. For some reason, she just wanted to defer to him. That was what she had been about to say, before the beastfolk showed up the first time and interrupted her. That Tybalt was the sort of man people naturally wanted to listen to.

  If she was honest, was that really true? Or was it that she specifically wanted to listen to him? When she thought about how distant he’d been with most of the others they worked with, it was probably the latter. Why?

  Perhaps it was instinct. Maybe it was his confidence or the fact that he had effectively stood up to everyone else in the squad even though it had gotten him beaten half to death. She had admired that before. Now that they were alone, the feeling was only growing more intense.

  I have to get a hold of myself…

  “I’ll do the talking, all right?” Tybalt asked.

  She reflexively nodded, then flushed as she realized she was doing it again. Letting him dominate the situation. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were focused on the three descending beastfolk.

  “I don’t think there are any more up there,” he said slowly. “If we have to fight, it’s just those three.”

  Tybalt stuck his right hand into his pants pocket, and Mariella’s eyes widened as she recognized the slight glow of mana emanating from that space. It was greenish, not the colorless mana of a class-less human.

  What in Abadd have you been hiding, Tybalt? she wondered. Are you a healer or something? But why hide something like that?

  As the beastfolk dropped to within thirty feet, Mariella forced her attention back to herself. It was no use trying to figure out Tybalt’s secrets right now. She needed to be ready to fight, if it came to it.

  She channeled her own mana, and the fiery glow of it surrounded her, invisible to any non-mage. But probably visible, she now knew, to Tybalt. He gave no sign that he saw, eyes still focused on the enemy. He didn’t even seem to twitch from having her in his peripheral vision. It was hard to say if that was because he was so locked in on the beastfolk or because he was deliberately pretending not to notice.

  He’s a good liar if he can lie with his whole body.

  The beastfolk dropped to fifteen feet above the ground. Tybalt stepped out.

  “We want to negotiate,” he said loudly. “We are not your enemies. We don’t want you dead.” He opened his mouth again as if he was about to add something, then closed it again.

  Did his eyes just dart back to me?

  The nearest beastfolk—an ibex beastman looked startled and lost his grip on the rope for a second, only catching it after he’d dropped several feet.

  The fox beastman just above him frowned. “Easy for you to say after we’ve already got your comrades trapped!”

  The other fox beastman threw himself backward and to the side, let go of the rope, and allowed himself to drop the remaining fifteen feet, landing on bent knees with a slight wince. Now there were beastfolk on both sides of them, and the two remaining on the cliffside quickly lowered themselves the remaining distance.

  Mariella reflexively turned to the one who had dropped to their other side. She would cover that flank and let Tybalt take care of the other for the moment.

  The fox man on her side drew a bow and nocked an arrow, pointing it right at her.

  She responded by making a visible fireball. He had no reaction other than widening his eyes slightly.

  Have these men fought mages before?

  Still, nothing aggressive happened.

  She heard the sound of the two beastmen still on the cliffside stepping onto the ground.

  “Man, Silva, you always have to look cool,” said the first fox man, his voice on Mariella’s other side. “Bet your knees are killing you.” She heard the sound of another arrow being nocked, behind her.

  This was a bad idea. I could have taken them out before they got close…

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  “We come in peace,” Tybalt said in a firm, confident voice. “If you try to fight us, we’ll just kill you three. Easy. We don’t want to make any orphans or widows today. Let’s go meet with your leadership. My friend and I are trying to desert from the Army. We hate what they’ve been doing to your people.”

  “My knees are just fine, Cas,” Silva replied. There was a slight, mocking edge to his voice. “Worry about yourself. The way your hands are shaking on that bow, you might be the one to make my kids orphans.”

  “Hey, did you morons hear me?” Tybalt asked, raising his voice slightly. “We want to talk. There might be some people in your command structure who would be interested in what my comrade and I can do for you. We’re two of the stronger members of our squad. There’s no reason all five of us can’t walk away from here today. Just take us to whoever leads you.”

  “We’re not interested in talking,” said the ibex beastfolk. “And we don’t need to take you to our leader.” He made a face at that, as if the idea was offensive.

  “We already got a few levels today from killing your boys back there,” added Silva, grinning at Mariella. “It’s understandable that you two would want to talk. You’re losing now.

  “Go!” Tybalt whispered.

  Quicker than she knew she could, Mariella loosed her fireball at Silva, aiming for the center of his bow. If she could disarm the man, he would have no choice but to surrender. Realistically, if not for their bows, she knew she could easily take all three of these beastfolk down by herself.

  The fox man reacted quickly, diving to the side. Mariella could see that the fireball would at least singe him anyway, but she wouldn't hit anything vital.

  Behind her, she heard the sound of another arrow being released, and she threw herself toward Silva, mana surging up into another fireball as she leaped through the air. She knew that Cas wouldn’t aim his arrow at his ally, so this direction should be safe.

  Behind her, she heard a cry of pain, but she forced herself to ignore it. Tybalt would have to deal with fighting two on one for a few seconds.

  Silva landed against the cliffside, sleeve on fire, and began drawing another arrow from his side as Mariella’s body hurtled toward him.

  She threw her fireball at his chest, and this time, as he threw himself to the side, it struck exactly where she’d intended, in his center of mass. Knowing he would dodge, she had aimed where she expected him to be rather than where he was.

  As the fireball hit, Silva cried out in pain, and the smell of singed hair and linen filled Mariella’s nostrils. She winced and shook her head.

  As she landed, Silva threw himself face down, trying to put out the fire that had hold of both his clothing and his flesh.

  Mariella threw a restrained kick at his head—she knew that any blow from her against a low level classless humanoid could break bone—and there was a quiet crunch. Silva instantly stopped moving.

  She winced at the sound but avoided bending down to check for life signs. Instead, she made herself look back and face the others still locked in combat. Tybalt might need her help.

  As she turned, she saw him standing with one foot atop the corpse of an ibex beastfolk who had died still clutching a dagger. Tybalt’s spear was embedded in the beastman’s throat. He was in the middle of drawing his own dagger from his belt.

  As she watched, Cas loosed an arrow, and Tybalt threw himself down and to the side to avoid it.

  Mariella hurled a fireball and approached closer to where Tybalt crouched. He had landed behind cover, partially hidden from the fox beastman by a rock.

  Cas dodged the fireball and nocked another arrow. He seemed to ignore Mariella, eyes focused on the rock Tybalt was crouched behind. At the same time the bastard rose from his crouched position, the fox released his arrow.

  “Tybalt!” As Tybalt threw his dagger, Mariella pushed him out of the way of the arrow. A moment later, a burning sensation in her shoulder blades told her she’d been hit instead. But the wound would be recoverable. It hadn’t even gone all the way through. She was made of tougher stuff than her companion.

  The bastard remained completely focused on the enemy. He rose, gently shrugged Mariella off of him, and threw three small white objects that Mariella did not recognize, which he seemed to have pulled from his pocket. The objects were, Mariella noticed, shrouded in Tybalt’s green-colored mana.

  The fox beastman had paused to prepare another arrow, and as he stood still for a moment, looking down at his bow, the white objects did what the dagger had failed to. Two embedded themselves in the beastman’s body, one in his chest and one deep in his eye socket. The third bounced off of the cliffside and ricocheted back toward Tybalt and Mariella.

  The archer looked surprised at the moment of impact, before the pain blossomed across his face.

  Ignoring the single wayward projectile, Tybalt approached the beastman, who had fallen to his knees, shuddering. The bastard took his dagger, which had embedded itself in a cliffside, and he stabbed the fox man in the side of the neck, a straight and deep stab that left no room for doubt.

  Cas would not be getting back up after that.

  Mariella’s eyes were half focused on the violent end of the enemy in front of her, though she did not particularly want to watch, and half carefully looking around for the small white object she had seen earlier.

  It couldn’t have gone far, she thought.

  At last, her eyes managed to identify the location. There was a small pair of rocks, and she determined that the space between them was the most likely place the projectile would have landed.

  As Tybalt stepped away from the fallen body of their enemy, she walked over to the rocks, ignoring the pain in her shoulder—significantly worse than she had expected—as she walked. She picked up the hard, white item in one hand and glanced at it. Her eyes widened, and a frown spread across her face.

  What is this doing here? she thought. What was Tybalt doing with it?

  Tybalt turned back to face her, an expression of relief on his face.

  “Mariella, are you all right?” he asked. “Thank you for protecting me back there. I don’t know where I was about to be hit, but—”

  “Tybalt, what is this?” Mariella held up the white object she had found. It was obvious now that she had a close look at it. It was a bit of human bone, carved into the shape of a knife.

  Tybalt looked at her and swallowed. A guilty—or perhaps merely a caught—expression came over his face.

  “After everything you told me about what the squad does, why are you carrying bits of bone around? Bone that you carved into the shape of a knife? Are you—do you collect trophies?”

  Are you just like the others?

  “I can explain,” Tybalt said, his expression calming as he spoke. “It’s not what you think.”

  They both froze. There was the sound of more footsteps far overhead. These beastfolk weren’t trying to be quiet, fortunately.

  It sounded like there were more than just three this time.

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