Everything in the canteen was made from a cheap metal—the trays, the cups, the knives, spoons, and forks. The tables were scratched metal as were the benches in front of them. There was a tray filled with slender wooden sticks and Gray was surprised to see people using them to eat.

  Like their room in the barracks, the canteen was spartan, though the eastern wall had a nice, long glass windows faced, showing the training fields, the pink palace, and the Hellbinder in the distance.

  Goblin women served up a thick, tasteless gravy you poured over what was known as a lentil brick. Mud bricks tasted the better. The gravy was slightly rancid. Gray could tell that right away. Another few hours, and that gravy would’ve made him sick. If he were lucky. It would’ve outright killed him if he wasn’t.

  The ironbites weren’t in baking cups. You had to pry them out of a metal tray set into the serving the counter. They didn’t have raisins either. They were just a chunk of mana-infused dough, slapped together and baked in the fires of hell…at least that was how they tasted.

  The water in the jugs stank like marshland.

  Both Gray and Rynn went for the water wine, which was mana infused. It made Gray sick to his stomach and completely destroyed his appetite, which was already pretty much gone anyway.

  The canteen was sparsely populated. Mostly, it was Froggy’s squad, all gathered together, at the other end, still laughing at the angel head and her missing trunks.

  Gray knew that they were a problem, but then, as the Dame Hekla Blackpaw said, everything at the First Field was a problem. First things first, he needed money, and they needed better food than they’d get at the canteen.

  Gray winced, fought not to throw up, and then simply closed his eyes, thinking of the pine trees outside of Oma’s shack. He breathed in the smell, wishing he was there, walking through the water. He had so many questions still.

  Rynn ate without saying a word. Every laugh made her shudder a bit. Froggy’s squad was relentless. Yes, they had found an easy mark, an angel head. Why hate her for her blond hair? Blondes in Cradleport were seen as the pinnacle of feminine beauty. He’d been drawn to Princess Lilian for her blonde hair.

  Blind John would say people like to hate. They like it better to hate someone for a reason, but then, any reason would do on most days.

  He knew, without a doubt, those women would give him shit for being from the Nursery Islands in what Rynn referred to as the Null Breaks. Rynn had warned him that he might be called a nully. The best course of action would be to go over there and bloody a nose or two. He did have his stick. Too bad he didn’t trust his combat skills. All those weeks of sparring with Settie made it clear he had a lot to learn.

  The minute Rynn was done eating, they left but not before Gray took what he needed to make money.

  As they walked north to the Pit Market, Gray started making a mental map of the town. First Field took up most of the southern part of Pit City. Then there were churches and government offices along with a few warehouses and a scattering of businesses. North of that was the Pit Market. Above that was the Pleasure Market, the Dice Market, and the wall separating Pit City from Lust City.

  After the stressful day, Gray was glad to be back in the marketplace. It felt like home. All it was missing was a very comfortable chair next to a sweet meat vendor, and a brilliant blind man there, who had mastered himself, and hence, had mastered life. He noticed a prettyish sort of stone half-buried in the dirt. The gods were smiling on him. He picked it up and put it in his pocket.

  He was a little surprised that the marketplace didn’t close in the afternoon heat. The bustling businesses were open from morning until midnight.

  “I’m sorry,” Rynn said as they stood there.

  “For what?” Gray asked.

  “Those bullies will target you because you’re with me. It’s my hair. I’m going to cut it off. I’m going to shave it off. I hate it. I hate that people know.”

  “Know that?”

  “That I’m descended from the angels,” she said softly. “Don’t hate me, Mr. No. You’re my only friend here in the Belly of the World.”

  Gray nudged her. “Miss Yes, where I grew up, there were gladiators, princesses, sea kings, blind prophets, and every type of con artist and flimflam man you can think of, but there were neither elves, nor angels, nor demons, nor bear men. So, I have a million questions, but I need frizzle twist and charbrew. You might not know what those are, but let me tell you, forget noodles. And forget muffins. Frizzle twist is proof that the gods still love us.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What’s a muffin?” Rynny asked.

  Gray only smiled. “Do you know what a frycake is?”

  She shook her head.

  “Looks like we both have a lot to learn.” Gray then saw the perfect place to set up. It was a crumbling waist-high wall between a leather vendor and a jeweler, complete with dwarven guards holding huge axes out front. But first, he had to let Rynn know exactly what she needed to do for them to make some money.

  At first, she frowned.

  “Think of Father,” Gray prodded. “If you can earn back some money, he’ll be so very pleased.”

  “He would,” the elf girl said with a sigh. “He took great pride in finding investors to expand his tailoring business. And mother always said that fashion was built on dreams. This is not that different. They had to worry about their reputation. It won’t matter what people think of me if I can pass the Testing.”

  “Yes, Testings and Kill Squads and Culling Day. All of that is my life now, not that I know what any of it means.”

  “You don’t?” Rynn asked.

  “No, Miss Yes, I don’t. Our friend Settie didn’t tell me much of anything.”

  “Who’s Settie?”

  Gray laughed at the ridiculousness of his life.

  He then went to the wall, put the ruby necklace at the end of his stick, and lifted it above the crowd. The pretty stone and the three metal cups were on the bit of wall. He waved the ruby necklace around, very careful to make sure no one came rushing out to grab it. He thought about pawning it, but then he wouldn’t get the real value. This way, he could use the treasure to consistently make money, not that they needed much.

  The rubies flashed in the afternoon sunshine as Gray called out, “Beat the game! Win the rubies! Find the stone and find riches beyond belief. Find the stone, win the rubies! Only ten shekels to play. Win ten thousand times that if your eye is quick and your wits are keen!”

  Rynn let him go on and on, for about ten minutes. No one approached. Of course not. They knew it was scam.

  Rynn finally came forward. “I’ll try it! Only ten shekels?”

  Gray slipped the necklace off the stick in a flourish. “Only ten shekels,” he said agreeably. He handed the necklace to her.

  “It is beautiful,” she said. “How much is it worth?”

  “A thousand shekels. It is rare and wonderful, worth ten times that if the buyer is smart. Want to try your luck, little lady?”

  Rynn was blushing and sweating, and yet, she was acting rather well. “It’s not luck, is it? What’s the game?”

  “Find the pretty stone under the right cup and then you’ll find stones a thousand times prettier.”

  A few passerbys had paused, more to look at the beautiful elf girl, in her fine green uniform, than the skinny man in his tunic and sandals, running what had to be a scam. Still, that necklace did flash so prettily.

  Gray put the three metal cups on the wall. With a flourish, he put a stone under the middle cup. "The stone is just a stone, a pretty stone, but worthless. The true treasure is inside you, dear lady. Use your wits to prove your worth. Find the stone, under the cups, under the cups, under the cups, the stone, the stone, the stone." He made a big show of moving the cups around, while Rynn watched carefully. When he dramatically tapped the cup on the left, he palmed the stone from underneath the cup on the right.

  When you were a scrawny servant, growing up among gladiators, you had to learn skills that didn’t have anything to do with muscles and a working heart. Blind John didn’t help him with this line of work, and Old Agatha would’ve been shocked at the scam. No, he’d gone to the Mouser to learn sleight of hand. The Mouser was a bad, bad man, but sometimes, bad men can teach the best things.

  Gray stopped moving the cups.

  “Which cup holds the pretty stone, pretty lady?”

  She pointed to the middle one. “That one.”

  With a grand gesture, Gray showed her she was wrong. At the same time, he slipped the stone back under the cup to the right.

  An orc with a broken tusk grunted. “Stupid fucking elf. It’s in the cup to the right.”

  Gray grinned, enjoying the thrill of the game. He’d won. His heart, so strong and vital, sang. “Yes! Now there is a gentleman with a good eye.”

  The orc grunted. “Never been called a gentleman before. I’m neither gentle nor a man. I can beat you, whelp. Let me try.”

  The orc didn’t even care that Rynn hadn’t paid him. The big green man thing wanted the ruby necklace, and he lost once, twice, three times, before he roared. “It’s impossible! You’re a fucking swindler. I want my money back.”

  Another orc shoved the first. “You’re just an idiot, Reznor. Here, let me try.”

  Gray watched as that wispy yellow light surrounded Reznor, angry because he’d lost thirty shekels in the game.

  The second orc wasn’t any luckier, but it brought in more players, until they’d made a hundred shekels.

  “Sorry, folks!” Gray said loudly. “I must away! But I shall be back. I know you love the pretty pretty necklace, but for today, it is mine. Thank you all for playing.”

  Reznor stayed behind, hand on his sword, as wide as a cleaver.

  Gray expected this, and it was a danger, but the Mouser always said that if you play with the devil, you should learn to like fire.

  Gray felt the fear, and he enjoyed it for some reason. He put a smile on his face and walked right up to the orc, who was far bigger than even the biggest of Cradleport’s gladiators. “I must warn you, good sir, I have my stick, and I’m not afraid to use it. I’m sorry you lost, but that’s the way of the world, is it not?”

  Reznor grinned with an evil twinkle. “Those cups are from the First Field’s canteen. You’re going into the Testing. I like watching the Testing, but I’m really going to like it this year. You might be smart, but you’re puny. I’ll love watching you die.”

  Reznor then left, seething, as the yellow light filled in his core.

  “Wrath,” Gray whispered.

  Rynn was next to him, sweating in the heat but still smelling good. “You can’t talk about resonances. It’s not polite, especially when it comes to the resonances of the blood races. Did we really just make a hundred shekels?”

  “I did.”

  “My father would love you. But where did you get the ruby necklace?”

  “Some questions are too complicated to answer.” He continued to stare at the back of Reznor as he made his way through the crowd. The orc was positive he’d die in the Testing. What had he gotten himself into?

  “Gray?”

  He turned to her. “We’re going to have frizzle twist and charbrew, and you’re going to tell me what’s going on in his crazy city. Are you up for that?”

  “Yes.” She said, looking afraid.

  Why was she afraid?