Sara should have known better than to think she could sneak out without waking Evie. She managed to sucessfully slip out from the tangle of Hurlish and Evie's arms thrown about her body, but the moment bare feet padded upon the stone, the catgirl's ears flicked her direction.

  "...sorry?" Sara tried, not bothering to pretend Evie's closed eyes meant she was still asleep.

  "Where are you going so early, Master?" Evie tiredly whispered. If it had been anyone other than Hurlish sleeping with them, Sara might have expected them to wake, but she knew the orc was dead to the world.

  "Out. You know, for a morning jog."

  "Mm. An interesting choice when the sun hasn't yet risen."

  Indeed, not even the morning rains had begun to patter upon the tarp that covered the busted skylight.

  "Yeah, well, I got in the habit back in Sporatos."

  "Which is to say, Master," Evie blearily opened her eyes, affixing Sara with a firm stare, "That you intend to go sneaking across the rooftops, trying to find the location of this Shaded Tree."

  Sara smiled guiltily, caught. "Maaaybe?" At Evie's unflinching gaze, Sara dropped the charade. "Okay, yeah, that's what I was doing. Do you think there'll be a giant tree in the middle of the city that they built their base under? Y'know, considering the name and all?"

  "I would be surprised."

  Evie slipped out from beneath Hurlish's arms, though it was a tougher time for her, as the burly orc had wrapped in a crushing embrace, like a child with their stuffed animal. Sara sighed as Evie finally extracted herself and stood, stretching. The catgirl cocked her head at the odd expression.

  "Do you not wish me to assist you, Master?"

  "I mean, kinda?" Sara admitted. "I was hoping to do this on my own, since it isn't all that dangerous."

  "You've never expressed a desire to work on your own before, Master."

  Sara sighed again as she began to ce up her thick boots. "I know. I think it's just something Nora said the other day that got stuck in my head."

  "Surely she didn't offer you an insult?"

  "No, no, I doubt she even realized it could be construed as anything negative. It's just that after I reminded her I wasn't a combat type of Champion, she pointed out that I'd surrounded myself with some extraordinary people that more than made up for it. Which is true, and I'm gd to have y'all, but..." Sara trailed off.

  "...you're offended by the notion that you wouldn't function without your allies?" Evie finished for her.

  "I guess, yeah. It's stupid. I know I'm the diplomacy queen or whatever, but the idea that I'm only good for chatting people up still kind of rankles."

  Evie, rather than begin the standard procession of reassurances that her friends on Earth had led Sara to expect, simply stopped and looked contemptive.

  "Would you like me to follow, but not assist?" Evie eventually offered. "I dislike the idea of you going off on your own, but understand well the desire to prove your independence from otherwise beneficial aids. Silently shadowing you is what I do best, after all."

  Sara, for some reason, hadn't even considered the idea. Evie was so much more naturally graceful than her that if it came down to any task that required subtlety or stealth, she'd assumed the catgirl would either take the lead or operate alone. But that same grace meant she could follow Sara with ease, keeping pace while remaining unobtrusive.

  "Yeah, okay," Sara decided. "So I'll just do whatever I was going to do, and you'll trail along in case I end up needing help?"

  "That sounds reasonable. You've well acquainted me with rolepy by this point, so I can't imagine pretending to be invisible will be difficult."

  Sara snorted, testing the fit of the dark peasant's garb she'd selected for the outing. Evie had returned to the bck hooded cloak she'd worn between Hagos and Port Agrith, an outfit she'd been preferring more and more when she expected a fight. "Y'know, it's pretty impressive that you manage to out-innuendo the literal Champion of Amarat, Evie."

  "I'm attuned to your desires, Master. If your thoughts spent less time in the gutter, perhaps I'd recover my old sense of decorum."

  Sara stopped with a hand on the exit's door handle, grinning over her shoulder at the catgirl. "But come on. Would you really want that?"

  Evie remained silent, but her smile mirrored Sara's lecherous grin.

  Sara stepped out into the night, embracing the burst of chill humidity.

  ------------------------

  ---------------------

  ------------------

  The city of Tulian was dead. Sara had managed to convince herself it was otherwise during the light of the day, when she'd seen the scattered remnants of normal life darting from corner to corner, but night proved it an illusion. Under the moonless starlight there was not a single mp lit, nor a single window left leaking light into the empty streets. No rabble rousers avoiding patrols of guards, nor street urchins clinging to warm corners, nor even the scampering of plentiful rats and pigeons that made their living on the scraps of human inhabitants. Sara walked through empty streets, feeling a deep sense of abandonment warring with the peaceful vines embracing decaying structures. It was odd. She felt quiet satisfaciton at seeing nature recim the buildings, yet at the same time she knew the homes never should have been abandoned in the first pce.

  But she also knew that a dead city would make for some sick urban exploration. Putting Evie's padding footsteps out of her mind, Sara did exactly what she'd pnned to do before the catgirl awoke, dipping into the narrowest alley she could find.

  As she'd hoped, it had a number of outcroppings for her to cling onto. She rolled her shoulders, limbering up her muscles for the same exertion that had carried her through her early days in Sporatos. She may have only had a twelve in dexterity, but that still put her measurably over average, and she was stubbornly determined to try what she'd always been too afraid to do back in Detroit. Exploring abandoned factories with her friends had been fun, but she'd never been the one leaping across rotted-out gaps, too keenly aware of all the structural problems that might lurk beneath.

  With a strength of eighteen, though, she felt certain she'd be able to haul herself out of pretty much any problem that might arise. Her intelligence of fourteen whispered in the back of her mind that no, she definitely couldn't weightlift her way out of a three story fall, but she ignored it. Who needed common sense when she had muscle power?

  Sara kicked off the wall behind her, aiming for the second story windowsill that had been out of her reach. Her unch threw a cloud of dirt off the wall, sending her sailing up. Her fingertips snagged the ledge, hauling her the rest of the way. As soon as her feet were on solid ground she leapt again, throwing herself to the busted third story window. Shards of gss still lined the frame, but the leather gloves she wore let her ignore them. In moments she was standing in the gap, eyeing the roof across from her. A wooden gutter prevented her from spotting a proper hold on the edge, and she doubted that the thin overhang could support her weight anyway.

  Instead of leaping across, she retreated into the abandoned building, standing in pitch bck. A moment of concentration brought her runes to life, giving her the candlelight's flicker required to see she was in an attic of some sort, a storage space with a ceiling conformed to the snted roof.

  Sara balled up her fist and punched a hole in the ceiling, throwing rotted tiles out into the night air. A few more rips cleared enough space for her to squeeze through, and then she was out in the open air.

  Looking down on Tulian from above was odd. The roofs of the city rose and fell with the terrain below, but with the unwelcome addition of sagging holes and storm-tossed debris, turning quaint winding rows into an obstacle course littered with detritus. Sara turned about, looking for a sign of where to head next. Finding none, she set off in a random direction.

  Though the roofs of the city had suffered through a decade without repair, they'd been built to weather storms, and as such were sturdy things. Where the rafters hadn't outright failed they remained steady under her jogging feet, even accepting her running leap between gaps.

  Though Sara was supposed to be stealthy tonight, she couldn't help but let out a yelp of excitement through the first few hops. The thirty foot fall whipped by below, the faint shadow of her sprinting form flickering over empty alleys as she ran.

  Though Tulian was the most organized city she'd been in so far, it still wasn't built on a grid, and she could manage to find narrow points that let her hop from street to street, so she didn't have to descend to change headings. Each gap was impossibly far for her old self, but with supernatural strength and adrenaline fueling her leaps, she was damn well convinced she could fly. The first time she cleared one of the gaps she felt a sense of profound relief mixed with exultation, surprising herself with how cleanly she'd nded. As time went on she grew more confident, finding her limits by forcing herself to run faster for every jump, trying to see just how far onto the opposite roof she could nd.

  She was so enthralled in her nighttime adventures that she entirely forgot to keep an eye out below, where she was supposed to be watching the streets for signs of The Shaded Tree's headquarters. Her distraction ended up being to her favor, because the first person she spotted wasn't on the streets below, but rather the rooftops, crouched a ways away to keep watch on the city below.

  Sara skidded to a stop, ducking behind a half-smashed chimney. The crouched figure was wearing all-bck, visible more by the starlight they blocked than any reflection. Sara reached into her bag of holding and drew out her sword, buckling it on as silently as possible.

  If this lookout was worth their salt, they'd have seen Sara approaching a while ago, and had just chosen to pretend otherwise. The edge of their hood drooped far enough forward that Sara was beyond their peripheral vision, but heavy boots running on tile roofing wasn't quiet. They'd likely prepared an ambush or something simir, and were now feigning ignorance to lure her in. Sara allowed herself time to catch her breath and decide on the best approach.

  The cool tip of a bde pressed itself to her throat. Sara whirled, shoving off the wall with one arm in the same motion that she flung an elbow behind her, then skidded uncontrolled down the snted roof until she caught her bearings. A hot line bloomed across her throat as she drew her sword, dripping blood into her neckline.

  "Commendable," a hushed voice said, coming from a shadowy figure atop the roof's peak. "One that falls for a decoy, but is experienced enough to escape my grasp. An odd combination of skills. A soldier, then?"

  To her chagrin, Sara was slightly disappointed she went unrecognized. It was pitch bck, sure, but she'd gotten used to anyone coming for her knowing exactly who she was.

  "Guess I just got lucky," Sara admitted to the figure. "Could've got me pretty good if the knife had been in a different spot." She wiped a trail of blood from her neck. "You're with The Shaded Tree, I assume?"

  "Oh, what gave me away?" The figure asked sarcastically, shifting dagger catching starlight. "Was it the bck garb, my station upon the rooftops, or the fact that I stand guard outside their headquarters?"

  "So this is their headquarters? Which building, if you don't mind?" Sara had already scanned the street, finding no sign of light or life.

  The figure stilled, anger rolling off their formless edges. "You think me a fool?"

  "What, for blowing the secret base location? Nah. I was looking for guards anyway, since I figured a pce like that had to have some lookouts or something posted. Finding you told me already, even if you, y'know, accidentally confirmed it."

  A petunt tone entered the figure's voice as they stalked down the roof toward Sara. "You found nothing but my decoy."

  "Yeah, and then I found you right after," Sara reminded the figure. As they stepped closer and their voice rose from a whisper, Sara felt sure she was speaking to a woman. "No hard feelings though, right? I just want to talk to your bosses, probably."

  "I work alone," the woman snarled.

  Sara cocked an eyebrow. "Alone... for someone else? 'Cause you already said you worked for The Shaded Tree, right?"

  "I-I-I'm a contractor," The woman stuttered, the hesitation in her voice dissonant next to the fluid lethality her soft steps belied. "They hired me to guard their premises, but they do not own me."

  "Yeah, most people's bosses don't own them," Sara said slowly, answering the woman's advance by flicking out her greatsword and taking a stance. "Doesn't mean they're not your boss, though. Unless you're the head of your own faction or something?"

  "Silence!"

  The woman darted forward, hood slipping off to show a young face twisted in embarrassed fury. Though Sara was near the roof's ledge, a lunge with a single dagger was ughably easy to parry. Sara knocked the woman's arm aside with the ft of her bde, her feet scraping across the roof as she turned her assaint's arm aside. She could have easily turned it into a killing stroke, but she held back.

  "No need for that," Sara cautioned the woman, taking measured steps backward, keeping parallel to the roof's edge to protect her right side. "I'm not here to fight."

  "Just insult?" The woman demanded. With her hood off and little gap between them, Sara could see that she had royal blue skin and sea-green eyes, as well as three narrow slits on either side of her neck that unduted as she spoke. "I will not have you make a mockery of me and allow you to escape."

  "I think you're a bit confused on the power bance here, homegirl," Sara replied, stopping her slow backpedal well before she reached the roof's edge. "You got the jump on me, but that's done with, so you're better off putting the dagger away and working things out."

  The woman answered by leaping forward once more, staying low to try and slip under Sara's guard. Sara easily swung the ft of her bde, moving so quickly she stirred a breeze as the dull steel cracked against her opponent's elbow.

  The woman hissed out a quiet "Shit!" as her grip sckened, nearly dropping the dagger entirely. She tried to transfer the weapon to her free hand, but Sara interrupted the motion with a kick, unching the dagger up into the air. She transitioned into an aggressive step forward, hammering the pommel of her weapon into the stranger's forehead. The dull thump took the woman to the ground.

  Sara flipped her sword back to its shorter form, holding the tip against the beating pulse of the woman's neck. Sara fshed her a bright smile.

  "My name's Sara, by the way. And you are?"

  Green eyes widened. "The Champion?"

  "Yup."

  Relief spread across the woman's face. "Ah, what a fool I am. To think I could have bested a Champion." She smiled up at Sara, looking rather gd she had an excuse for her loss. "I am Ketch, and had you been anyone lesser, I am certain I would have defeated you."

  Sara recognized the soft catch of footsteps on the loose tiles behind her as belonging to Evie, who walked up to stand beside Sara.

  "Where was she?" Ketch pointed to Evie, shocked that there was someone else present that she'd missed. She quickly hid her surprise with scorn. "Are your sves so poorly trained they leave you to fight on your own?"

  "Master didn't need my help," Evie answered smartly, affronted by the implication that she wasn't doing her due diligence.

  Ketch's face twitched at that. "Such confidence you have in her. Ah well, she is a Champion."

  Sara and Evie shared a look. "Look, Ketch," Sara said, kneeling down and moving her weapon away from the woman's throat, "I kinda don't think you're as good as you think you are. I mean, confidence's great and all, but if you're going to start fights, you should probably be more sure you can win them."

  "I am a master of my craft, Champion. I do not need lectures from those who do not stalk the shadows."

  "Mmm, okay," Sara said, hiding her cringe. "Look, Ketch, how old are you?"

  "Nearly nineteen."

  "So eighteen."

  "Nearly nineteen."

  Sara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Evie, could you keep her there for a minute?"

  "Of course Master," she replied, silver rapier fshing into existence against Ketch's throat. Whereas Sara had maintained a bit of distance, Evie's sword tip poked into the woman's blue skin. Ketch gulped.

  Sara stood and walked over to where the dagger had nded, finding its well-polished bde easily by the way it reflected starlight. She returned to Ketch, orienting herself to the stance her instincts told her were appropriate for wielding a dagger against a weapon of greater reach.

  "Look, Ketch, when you came at me the first time, you shouldn't throw your whole body into the duck like that. Y'gotta close the gap, right, so it's all about controlling the opponent's weapon. Once you're inside their reach you've basically won, but it's hard to do that, so you've got to focus everything on..."

  Sara continued her lecture, demonstrating the forms for an utterly bewildered Ketch. It was difficult to parse her divinely-intuited knowledge into pin nguage, but Sara thought she did a pretty good job. Whether Ketch actually paid attention or just sat back wondering why in the hell Sara was bothering to teach her anything, Sara couldn't guess.

  "Alright, got that?" Sara asked as she concluded her lesson. She flipped the dagger, pinching its tip to offer the handle to Ketch. "Evie, do you have any advice?"

  "None for the heat of battle, Master, but I will say this." Her sword vanished as she leveled a stern gaze on Ketch. "Know your opponents well. Skill can bridge the gap between a single level, perhaps two, but no more. There are opponents who you will never beat, even if they're nothing more than craftsmen who never held a bde."

  Ketch gnced between the two women standing above her, confusion pin on her face. "...okay?" She finally said. "But, uh, why are you two telling me this?"

  Evie shrugged, turning to Sara. "I don't know. Why are we advising her, Master?"

  Sara also shrugged. "Dunno. I didn't have to kill her, which was nice, so I guess I just felt like I should help her out? She doesn't seem like a bad type."

  "She did put a dagger to your throat, Master," Evie reminded her.

  "Well yeah, but she coulda just stabbed me outright. I felt like I owed her one."

  Evie shook her head in amusement, but didn't outwardly disagree.

  "So," Sara said, pointedly wiggling the dagger that Ketch still hadn't grabbed. "Which one of the buildings is the secret base?"

  The bck cloak Ketch wore hid most of her body, but Sara got a brief glimpse of her clothes as she sullenly returned the dagger to her belt sheath. Beneath the stuffy bck garment she was wearing nothing more than a pale blue bikini top, matching a pair of skin-tight shorts. They reminded Sara of biking shorts, actually, clinging tightly to her skin.

  "I take it your sparing of my life is a gift you expect me to repay with such privileged information?" Ketch asked, falsetto arrogance returning as she pushed herself to her feet.

  "No, because I could just hop down there and go knocking on doors until I find the right one," Sara replied, sheathing her sword. "But what I will ask is where you got those pants. Everything in this world is so scratchy and awkward."

  Ketch's eyes fred wide with offense, a lighter shade of blue working its way up her neck. "I beg your pardon?!"

  "Uh, no need to beg," Sara joked, holding her hands up as she stifled a ugh. "Isn't that normal here? Y'know, girl talk? Where'd you get those clothes, how much were they, that kind of thing?"

  Ketch sputtered. "You should not be looking at my pants! What were you trying to get a glimpse of, Amarat's Champion?"

  Sara's urge to tease won out over her desire to profess innocence. "I mean, you were facing me, so it wasn't your ass..." Ketch's sputtering reached a new, higher pitch. "...but really though, I just thought they looked comfy. We had some stuff back in my world called nylon, and it was a godsend, I swear. That stuff looks pretty close."

  Ketch spun around, intentionally fring her cloak out in a dramatic flourish. "If you're quite done, I will take you to our headquarters."

  "Your contractor's headquarters, you mean," Evie snipped.

  Ketch didn't respond other than to hunch her shoulders, hopping off the side of building.

  Sara watched her cloak flutter up past her ears as she fell. She muttered to Evie, "It is a nice ass though, isn't it?"

  "Quite, Master."

  Sara and Evie followed Ketch down the building's side, Ketch and Sara leaping from windowsill to windowsill while Evie simply hopped off the edge, gray raincloak floating around her until she nded without a sound. The catgirl smirked up at them while she waited for them to finish cmbering down, filing her nails against the bricks.

  As soon as her feet were on the cobblestones Ketch darted out into the street, clearly uninterested in any discussion that could lead to further embarrassment. Sara intentionally trailed behind, leaning over to whisper to Evie.

  "Is she a... fish person?"

  "An azerketi, Master. A people more at home in the water than on nd, with occasional exceptions."

  "So those are gills, right? Not just, like, open wounds?"

  Evie smirked. "Indeed, Master. And her hands and feet are webbed, as well."

  Sara allowed herself a small huh of interest, then pushed the matter aside. If she asked for the full biography on every strange person she met in this world, she'd run out of time to do anything else.

  Sara and Evie trailed fifteen feet or so behind Ketch as she swept up to an outwardly abandoned house, then knocked a patterned beat against the door. There was a brief wait, then the door swung open, allowing Ketch to slip inside. The door closed behind her, leaving Sara and Evie in the street.

  "...She didn't just leave us out here, right?" Sara asked.

  "I'm not sure, Master," Evie admitted.

  A few more moments passed, then the door opened once more, an unfamiliar man's face peering out. He found Sara, then jerked his head back to usher them inside.

  ---------------------------------

  Evie

  ---------------------------------

  Evie followed Master into the decrepit building, taking one st gnce around the street. There was no sign that they were followed or otherwise being lured into an ambush. Evie's eyes lingered on a few of the deepest shadows, trying to peel away what they might hide, until she heard the door begin to creek shut and was forced to slip inside.

  The building she followed Master into was filled with the smoke of southern pipes, an eye-watering haze so thick she could practically feel it running through her hair. Master ignored it, so Evie did too. The entry room was small and walled off from what remained of the old house, poputed by two guards standing beside a staircase. The man began down the steps, leading Master on with a caution to watch her head.

  While they were led down the ntern-lit stairs, Evie's mind split into two parts. The first was the one that paid heed to her surroundings, senses prodding out at everything around her. Master could handle herself, but observant she was not, and Evie intended to make up for the difference.

  Because the second part of her mind was working through the eventualities of this meeting, struggling to parse what her Master intended to do. She would follow along, of course, but this was untested ground for Evie. Master had held meetings with more than one group of powerful individuals in the time Evie had been her sve, but none had the parameters and connotations that this occasion did. They were not meeting with Lords and Ladies, who Master viewed with little more than disdain, nor svers, whose existence Master saw as a mistake awaiting correction, and they would not be fleeing this pce, freed of rash action's consequences. They were meeting common criminals, organized cutthroats that supped upon the carcass of an animal not yet dead. Evie had seen none of Master's reactions to people such as these, and she did not know where her priorities y. Would they be sughtering their way back to the entrance, or should Evie prepare a note to be delivered to Hurlish while they drank past the morning sun? Evie did not know.

  And so she prepared herself for any eventuality, drawing upon the years of diplomatic lessons that had been etched into her skin as fixedly as tattoo. When the stairs opened up into an underground den, plentiful oil nterns just barely leaking light through an addling smoke fog, Evie began her process.

  Upon her face she pstered a pleasant, gentle smile, of the sort the high ranking servants of her home wore when interacting with unexpected noble guests whose rank they were not appraised of. Her eyes darted between faces, then to hands, hips, shoulders, and knuckles, cataloguing the weapons and physicality of those present. Twelve individuals, four openly armed, eight discreetly equipped, all capable of combat-grade exertion, if not necessarily combatants themselves. They all focused upon Master, expressions ranging from hidden interest to overt interest. The tables and chairs were sturdy wood, the walls stone. Plentiful tapestries and rugs hid most of the uncomfortable dwelling space, eliminating fire as an effective tool. Two other doors led to other rooms, implying possible reinforcements.

  Evie caught the eye of one man who was looking at her, not Master, and brushed her hair from an ear with a bashful smile. The man broke eye contact, looking away. Evie noted his face for ter.

  Master was led to a second room, sectioned off by a thick curtain. The man guiding them lifted the curtain, allowing Master entrance, then tried to hold out a hand to stop Evie. She stepped around him without comment, and when Master failed to protest, he said nothing further. The curtain was dropped, muffling the prior room, where conversation began once more. Likely, as none of the other people in the room were catfolk or feline, they thought their privacy total.

  The meeting room of choice was a small cozy carved out of the stone, a red velvet bench running along the oval walls to surround a fine cquered table. Four individuals were present, one of them Ketch, the test girl Master had taken a liking to.

  While Ketch sat awkwardly, hands csped between her thighs, the other three attendees appeared utterly at ease. They each had several metal mugs before them, most emptied, a single per person still containing drink. They lounged and stretched across the space, feet kicked up on the table or on the bench, and they were chatting about inconsequential ditherings with the easy air of old friends who were hours into their conversation, and had hours yet to go before they grew tired of it.

  But the filled metal mugs had condensation on them, retrieved from some chilled celr, yet the table's surface was unmarred by cup rings. Their clothes were firmly buttoned and their pipes full, ash not staining the edges of the bowl. They were practiced, convincing liars, but the air of indifference they put on was a front. They had been quickly summoned here, appraised of Master's presence, then had chosen this bearing for their initial introductions to Master.

  Thrown into an unknown political environment such as this, Evie could not perfectly assess the reasoning behind their choice, but she was confident in several assertions.

  The first was that they were intimidated by Master's presence. If one respected a visitor, they would therefore dress respectfully, which these criminals had not. If one thought themselves dominant over a guest, they would not bother with preparations or so readily accept a surprise visit, preferring to demonstrate their strength by making the guest pander to their whims.

  But if one feared a guest? Then they would do exactly this, boisterously showing off their ck of respect and decorum, mistaking the illusory indifference for the strength of those who truly bent others to their will. These criminals feared Champions, feared their reputation and the tales of their might, but only discussion would reveal if this fear could be maintained.

  The second assertion she was certain of was the uncharacteristic unity of command in the room. Three individuals, one woman and two men, all sprawled about the space as if they owned it. Bumps and jostles occurred as they reached for their drinks and pipes, but not a sideways gnce was spared. Even among the most unified of diplomatic teams Evie had been witness to there had been interpersonal rivalry and a subtle pecking order, but the telltale signs of such were absent here. These three viewed each other as absolute equals, bar nothing.

  The third confident assertion was that Master would run roughshod over the discussion. These criminals, hardened though they may be, were not diplomats. They were used to negotiating protection rackets or intimidating lesser rivals, as they presently were doing to poor cowed Ketch. Master was the Champion of Amarat, Patron Goddess of Diplomats, and these poor fools were not prepared to face her. Between her eclectic ideology, otherworldly knowledge, and alternating between utter disregard and fastidious adherence to certain social niceties, Evie doubted even Mother could have sat across from Master without walking away embarrassed.

  Ignorant of Evie's conclusions, Master slipped easily into the booth beside Ketch, opposite the three criminals, and patiently waited being addressed. After a moment's consideration of the best pce to aid the discussion, Evie slipped into the bench as well, throwing her arms around Master's neck and curling up in her p. Master's arm reached out to tuck her in with habitual ease, barely registering the unusualness of Evie's position.

  The rightmost man hesitated in the middle of his sentence, distracted for the briefest moments as he gnced at Evie. She smirked inwardly, a point scored, and drove the knife home by sweetly nuzzling into Master's neck.

  Master unconsciously squeezed her a little bit closer, resting a hand on her knee, and Evie's calcuted distraction turned genuine as she took a deep breath through her nose, repcing the thick smoke with Master's scent. Her eyes fluttered closed for a precious few seconds, enjoying the beat of Master's heart against her own.

  "So this's the Champion you brought us, Ketch?" A woman's voice asked. Evie's eyes flicked open once more, the moment of rexation finished.

  "Y-yes ma'am," Ketch mumbled, the nervousness in her voice warring for position with puffed-up pride. The poor girl still wanted to present the image of independent roguishness, but such was impossible when sitting before your direct superior. It was a phase Evie's tutors had wrung out of her as a child, and now seeing it from the outside, she understood why.

  "The name's Sara," Master said, releasing Evie's knee for a moment to give a little wave. "And you are?"

  "We are the Shaded Tree, masters of this city," the rightmost man said.

  "And we're very interested--" the leftmost man began, before Master spoke over him.

  "See, I thought-- oh, sorry to interrupt your cool twinsies thing-- but I thought this was my city?"

  The trio's focus narrowed upon Master. From Master's p Evie gave them a doe-eyed stare, as if she were simpleminded, but still thought their words terribly foolish.

  "...Your city?" The left man eventually prompted. He set his pipe down, smoke curling to pool at the ceiling.

  "Yeah. You know, Tulian. The whole country, actually. It's mine." Master's tone never faltered from the purely conversational, yet the sylbles fell as thundercps upon the criminals. She continued on, as if unaware. "I assume this meeting will be kept in confidence, right? Because I haven't made it public yet that I'm building my own little private nation here, and I'd like to keep it that way. I know y'all don't have the best foreign contacts, since you're mostly a local gang, but rumors spread fast." Master snagged one of the empty metal mugs, thrusting it through the curtain. Evie heard a shuffle as someone outside quickly responded, filling the mug, and then Master retracted it, taking a long sip. "Mm. Not bad. Mead, right? I can taste the honey."

  Finally the woman ughed, the first among the trio broken from their collective trance. "I see, I see! I wasn't aware the gods chose madwomen for their Champions, but it seems truly anything is possible. It's a relief to know that we can go back to our conversation."

  "There's no smoke." Master stated.

  Even Evie blinked at that comment.

  "...I'm sorry?" The rightmost man asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

  "I said there's no smoke," Master repeated, pointing up. Evie followed the finger to the ceiling, where pipe smoke had coalesced into eddies and currents. "Outside the curtain, there was a ton of smoke filling the room, but there's barely any in here."

  "And?" The left man prompted.

  "You don't have a conversation to go back to. You weren't doing anything at all before I showed up, or at least nothing together in this room, because there would be smoke drowning me to my tits if you'd spent any more than a few minutes with those nasty-ass pipes in here."

  Evie inspected the ceiling. True to Master's word, the smoke in the curtained-off room was paltry compared to the main area. Evie had caught their clothing, and their drinks, but not the smoke. She leaned harder against Master, feeling a soft warmth blossom in her chest that wasn't, for once, reted to arousal. Her tail begin to curl around Master's forearm, a slow dispy of affection she did nothing to arrest.

  Master, meanwhile, leaned to the side and kicked her boots up on the table, tossing her legs over Ketch's p, who yelped. "I'm the most important thing in this room by a long shot," Master said. "You're small fry, and while I don't have any particur problem with y'all yet, I won't be very worried if I ever do. By the way, you don't sell or have sves, do you?"

  "An insult to the Shaded Tree is skirting death in Tulian," the woman's lip curled. "You do not know who you deal with, Champion. We alone have kept the city from falling into final anarchy, lost to bandits and disease."

  "Which I really gotta respect you for," Master acknowledged with a nod, "But happily for you, I'm here to do more than maintain a shitty status quo for my own personal profit."

  "Why would we allow you to do anything like that?" The right man leaned forward, sneering. "You want to seize and control what is ours."

  "Buddy, you're thinking way too small. What's there to gain from a Champion, someone literally sent by the gods to solve some unsolvable crisis, taking over a middling criminal enterprise?" Master took another sip of mead, popping her lips in a loud ah. "I'm building a country here. One that, inevitably, will have criminals in it. I came here not to bully you out or crush you, but because I kinda respect what you've got going on. Organized criminals, at least ones that stay out of the real shady stuff, are a lot easier to deal with than a culture of random muggers and petty gangs."

  Master took another drink, finishing her mead and dropping it to the table with a cnk. "That's pretty much it from me. I don't care what you do, one way or the other, so long as you don't get in my way. There are some crimes I will prosecute to the fullest extent of my capabilities, like svery, rape, or murder, but if you stay away from those we should be fine. This meeting wasn't really about making deals or anything. I was just informing you of what's going to happen, so you can prepare accordingly. If you're going to fight me on it, though?" Master shrugged. "I'm fine with my girlfriend and I walking out of here covered in your guts."

  Evie tensed. Master had already progressed to an overt threat, abandoning the subtext of the earlier conversation. If successful, such a strategy was wonderful effective, but if inadequately prepared it would mean the end of useful dialog.

  What's more, Evie knew Master was bluffing. They were both effective fighters, but they were hideously outnumbered. Evie could see only zy confidence in her Master's demeanor, but bluffs could be called for reasons beyond body nguage. If the criminals were appraised of Master's abilities, they might recognize that she was no more effective any other warrior, Champion or not. Evie opened her hand, ready to summon her rapier, awaiting a reaction.

  "...Our endeavors may be more profitable, should the city be revitalized," the left man finally cautiously ventured.

  "Certainly it would ease our burden if we were not responsible for organizing its defense," the woman in the middle agreed.

  "Then we'll accept the terms?" The right man asked the others.

  "We accept," the other two said in unison, nodding their confirmation.

  "We accept," nodded the final man. "If you so badly wish to agonize over the difficulties of corralling these people, we'll gdly foist the burden upon you. Our meeting is concluded."

  It was the fastest diplomatic capitution Evie had ever witnessed.

  Evie slipped to her feet as Master stood, stretching. "Hey, whatever soothes the ego. I get it." Master paused for a second, looking to the side as the leaders of the Shaded Tree began to filter out. "I'm taking Ketch by the way," she announced, snagging the girl by the hood and hefting her up.

  "W-what?" Ketch sputtered, spinning in Master's grip.

  "Fine," one of the men waved disinterestedly.

  "What do you mean, you're taking me?" Ketch demanded. Master just rolled her eyes, as if it was obvious, until the final member of the Shaded Tree had exited the room. Then she leaned down close, whispering in Ketch's ear.

  "I just made a fool out of them, and you're the one that brought me here. You don't want to be in this pce anymore. Trust me."

  Ketch's eyes widened. She swallowed audibly, then bobbed her head. Master dropped her, then pushed through the curtain, heading for the exit. Ketch followed behind, bck cloak clutched tightly about her neck.

  "Did we really need another stray, Master?" Evie quietly asked as they began up the stairs.

  "Who, Ketch?" Master whispered back. The mentioned woman was trailing behind, out of earshot. "I couldn't just leave her there."

  "I understand that, but your bed is getting awfully full, Master."

  Master put a hand to her chest, affronted. "Evie, I help people without ulterior motives all the time. What makes you think this is any different?"