“Pierre-Henry,” I said, nodding my head a fraction of an inch. I was dressed in a sharp suit, purple and sleek. The occasional sparkle only added to the effect.

  He was dressed in what I could only describe as an inappropriate toga. It wasn’t revealing, thank god, but he looked like he’d come dressed as a budget sack of potatoes. For a presumably rich guy, it was weirdly out of place.

  We were standing in the Long Horn, Beville nervously polishing a glass behind the bar as he stared at us with fear in his eyes. The customers were few and far between, a fire roared over on one side, and a modest army of unibunnies stood along one wall. Opposite them were a handful of de Fallade’s soldiers.

  They were rankers, tough and powerful, but they were sweating, and the only sign of life amid the dull armour of my troops was the occasional metallic ear twitching and a quiet slurp of carrot puree.

  “Bob.”

  “Salnia, go get the Comte’s daughter, please.”

  There was a clank from behind me, but I didn’t turn to check. Salnia would vanish through the portal, grab Eleanor and be back any second… now? I turned and looked at the portal.

  “Problem?” asked the Comte.

  “Shouldn’t be. Just give her a second…ah.”

  Salnia backed through the portal with her arms raised. As she moved further away, I caught sight of a sword point that rapidly grew into an entire sword, the tip pressed against Salnia’s gorget.

  “This won’t end well if she doesn’t let my woman go.”

  “No need to growl. Ellie! Put the damn sword down! Get your arse over here, girl!”

  “She was rude to me!” Eleanor snapped after emerging through the blue haze of the portal. In the faintly liquid-like surface of the portal, I could see Salnia’s face.

  “Salnia, don’t. Eleanor, meet Salnia Saint-Slayer. I don’t know how you got your hand on her sword, but the only reason that you, a one-armed paladin, aren’t dead yet is that Salnia is being unusually calm about the situation,” I said. “Drop. Your. Sword.”

  “He didn’t treat me with the respect my station deserves, Father.”

  “I am not surprised. He is a monster.” The Comte shot me an apologetic look. “But at this very moment, you are acting outside of all decorum and putting the entire exchange at risk. Put the sword down.”

  Beville was polishing his glass so furiously that I began to worry about friction igniting the damp cloth. That was all we’d need. A shocked barman would throw the rag towards the wall of very expensive, and very high-proof, liquor right behind him. Cue exploding bottles, total chaos and… did this place even have insurance? Something to look into.

  “He is actually kind of charming, in a way,” Eleanor said. Her demeanour had completely changed as she switched her grip to the blade with a gentle toss, switched it around and offered the hilt to Salnia.

  Salnia accepted the blade with a scowl and stepped to one side, sheathing it at her waist.

  “Ellie.”

  “Oh, poo, Dad. I wouldn’t even if I could have. He just got married to some bar wench. It’s disgusting how all over each other they are.”

  “Esme is not some bar wench.” My growl made the glasses behind the bar rattle. I yanked back on my draconic aura, pulling it into my body as best I could. Wrath had snatched control of me for a moment and somehow used the ability, even though I didn’t consciously know how.

  “Congratulations on your nuptials, Baron Bob. I believe everything is resolved to your satisfaction?”

  Fighting down another growl, this time stemming from greed and my idiotic failure to extract as much gold out of this bastard as possible for the safe return of his daughter, I nodded reluctantly. Even as I thought about it, I mentally winced. Sure, more gold was always better, but to hold a prisoner had felt… off in some way.

  I doubted it was the draconic part of my mind that cared about the well-being of a woman I hardly knew, so it must be the squishy mammal part being all soft-hearted. It wasn’t entirely a bad thing, though, when I thought about it for a second. Karma was a bitch, as was well established, and if my goal was to avoid another downgrade, I kind of needed that stupid mammal part.

  Eleanor stepped away from the portal and joined her father. They didn’t hug. Instead of any kind of familial affection, he just looked her over and nodded while she smiled sheepishly.

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  “Then we are done here. Baron, I look forward to meeting you on the field at the next battle and will avoid entanglements involving your towns as per our accord.”

  I offered a hand, and he shook it. His grip was firm and slightly clammy. As soon as he turned away, I carefully wiped my hand on my trousers.

  “It’s been fun, Bob.”

  “Has it, Eleanor? I hadn’t noticed. All the best getting your limb back.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me for a second before prancing away after her father. I kept an eye on the Comte’s guards until they were all out of the room, then I sighed with relief and made my way to the bar.

  “Golden Jack, please, Beville.”

  “You should have let me teach her a lesson,” Salnia grumbled, plonking herself on a stool next to me and nodding at the pump for an ale.

  “You’d have hurt her in front of her Dad and a bunch of his guards.” I sipped at the liquor, savouring the burn as I swallowed.

  “Not that badly. Thanks, Beville.”

  “This is my place; property damage costs me. I don’t like costs.”

  “Ahem.”

  “Sorry, Bev, our place.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad the exchange took place peacefully.” A new glass, it may have been the same one, but I thought it was new, appeared in his hand, and began to receive a thorough polishing.

  “What the hell were they going to do? The borgs would have chopped them up and turned them into corpse-origami.” Salnia blew the froth off the top of her pint, spraying it across the bar, and took a sip.

  “And wrecked the wall behind the assholes. Walls are expensive.” I glanced at Beville for confirmation, and he nodded quickly. “Don’t do anything expensive. I need to make that a rule.”

  “So what’s the plan now, boss?”

  Her total lack of respect and fear was equal parts refreshing and annoying.

  “I’m going to go have a chat with the arena and set up my next fight. You, dear Salnia, are going to go and talk to Harald.”

  She drew in a sharp breath and treated me to a level two glare. “What the hell does he have to do with anything?”

  “He loves you. And I think, on some level, at least as far as you're capable of the emotion, you love him. Don’t you?”

  “You don’t know me, Bob. He chose a town over me.”

  “He only proposed once he felt he was worthy of you. I mean, he’s annoying as hell, kind of dumb and frankly could do with a better hygiene regimen. On the other hand, he’s honest, and he loves you. He’s got a great future ahead of him, and with you at his side… I think he’ll do even better.”

  She snorted. “Bullshit.”

  “No. I owe you guys. Sure, you’re my minions, and technically, you’re figments of IMPS' imagination that it summoned into a dungeon to fuck with me, but now I think of you as people. Friends even. Or at least loyal mammals. I’ve got a karmic debt to pay off, and helping people be happy is probably a good idea.”

  Salnia drained her glass and looked at me. “You serious?”

  “Like a heart attack. I don’t want another downgrade when I die.”

  She paused for a moment, lips pursed as she tapped a finger on the bartop. “I’ll think about it.”

  She smiled at Beville and headed back through the portal, taking the extra bunnyborgs with her.

  “One more, please.” I slid my glass back towards Beville.

  “You want her to be happy?”

  “Kind of.” I watched the amber liquid fill the glass, then made an annoyed face when he seemed to pause the pouring.

  “As in you don’t really care, but it looks good to say you do?”

  I accepted the now brimming glass and stared into it for a second. I took a deep breath, the scents of the bar filling my mouth. Smoke, sweat, mammals.

  “I want to stop the prophecy. What better way to tie Harald down than to tag him with a wife like Salnia?” I was a very clever… “Oh shit.”

  “You’re just figuring it out, aren’t you?” Beville ignored my glare, which was a shame as it was a solid eight point five.

  Salnia was ambitious, powerful, and frankly, borderline sociopathic. The old saying that behind every great man is an even greater woman echoed through the void that was my mind.

  “What have I done?”

  “I’m sure it will be fine. Aren’t you worried about your bout in the arena?”

  “Not as much as setting Salnia on the path to power. I’ll see if Esme can distract her next time I’m back in the dungeon. The arena will be fine. Getting there is going to be the problem.”

  “How so?” He had the most important skill any barman could possess: sounding like he cared about whatever the random drunk was talking about while still getting on with his job.

  “Seb and his teeny tiny criminal mates.”

  “I haven’t seen him for a while. Not many people need stabling anymore. At least not the ones coming to the Horn. Word has gotten around about the portals.” He took a break from polishing a perfectly shiny glass to wiping down the counter.

  “That’s good. More travel chits sold, more traders in the Bonanza.” I finished my drink. “Thanks, Beville. You take care. I’m off to see a man about a fight to the death.”

  “Good luck, Bob.”

  My smile showed rather more teeth than ought to have been possible.

  The cobbled street outside was filled with passersby. Peasants gave way to nobles, and both stepped aside as carts and wagons rumbled past. Urchins stalked me.

  Ragged figures, all under five feet tall, lurked around every corner. They trailed along behind me, and a few raced off ahead of me every time I caught up to them.

  Dalgliesh’s pets. I should have just offed Bulldo and taken the karmic hit. Leaving Dalgliesh in the dark, with no idea what happened to his teleporter or his muscle, would have been best. While I couldn’t act directly against him, he couldn’t do the same to me. We were locked in a game of cat and cat, neither able to make the first move, both with claws sharpened and ready to sink into the other.

  I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He would move, break the contract, and then I’d deal with him. After the arena, I was going to pay a visit to the Imperial Court and get some more allies on side. If I were lucky, they could deal with him and leave me clear and free.

  The entrance to the arena was exactly as it had been. A shitty, rundown-looking mid-terrace, stained by the smoke and effluvia that filled the air of the city. I walked right past the long cue and presented myself to the bouncer, a broad man who looked like a shaved gorilla that had been forced into a suit with a shoe horn. He did not look impressed as I cut in.

  “I’m Bob the dragon. I’ll be your champion today. I need to have a word with the voice-over guy before we get this show on the road.”