The first thing I noticed was the smell.

  Slime wolves reeked when they were agitated, a sharp wet tang that sat somewhere between spoiled vegetation and old metal. It clung to the air and coated the back of my throat as I landed hard, my staff biting into the ground a split second before I did.

  “Winnie, wide swing, left side only,” I said as I moved. “Don’t crush the cores. We need those cores for the quest.”

  Winnie was already changing.

  She grew with practiced ease, her body expanding until she was closer to six feet than four and a half, thick with strength and steady on her feet. Her gear grew with her. Log grew with her too, lengthening and thickening until it looked less like a weapon and more like a piece of timber somebody had stolen from a fortress wall.

  Winnie grinned down at the pack spilling out of the brush. “I heard you.”

  The wolves moved like wolves, even with bodies made of slick gel and half-set sludge. Two came straight at Winnie to hold her attention while another pair slid wide, searching for her flanks and my back.

  Winnie met the first lunge with a brutal horizontal swing. Log slammed into the slime wolf and drove it into the dirt, and the creature splattered outward in a wet burst. The core popped loose and bounced across the ground, intact.

  “Winnie,” I said, sharper now. “Control yourself. We’re not trying to destroy literally everything. We need those cores.”

  “I’m trying,” Winnie said, and she sounded honest. She shifted her stance as another slime wolf circled, its body stretching and compressing with each step. “It’s a lot harder when you’re the one doing it.”

  “Slow them down,” I said. “If you slow them down, Meka can pull the cores.”

  Meka answered before Winnie could, because Meka always did when the plan made sense.

  A vine snapped out of the ground and caught a slime wolf’s hind legs, yanking it sideways so its lunge turned into a messy tumble. Meka moved in behind the vine like it was a handrail, glasses flashing as she tracked the wobbling core inside the gel. Bunny skittered in low at her heel and harried the wolf’s front legs, keeping it off balance long enough for her to commit.

  Winnie glanced back at me over her shoulder, grin sharp and familiar. “All right, Captain Runt.”

  “Aye,” I said. “I’ve got you.”

  I planted my staff and vaulted.

  The wood bent back further than it should’ve, and it didn’t crack. One enchantment let it flex like a living thing. Another let my grip hold steady while I used it like a lever and a whip at the same time. The staff snapped straight and threw me forward.

  A slime wolf tried to slip around Winnie’s right side, low and fast, aiming for the space behind her legs where Log couldn’t reach in time.

  I met it from above.

  My boots hit its back and drove through the gel in one hard pass, and I felt the impact all the way up my shins and into my hips. The core punched free like a stone kicked out of mud and skittered across the dirt behind me.

  It hurt. My tin-rank skin at thirty percent took the edge off and kept it from turning into something worse, and that was enough for a clean hit and a clean exit. I wouldn’t have been an issue at all if I had been copper.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I landed in a half-crouch, staff already turning in my hands as I reset my angle.

  “Winnie, keep your lane,” I said. “Don’t chase the wide ones.”

  Winnie huffed something that sounded like a laugh and forced herself steadier. She pulled her size down a notch, not because she was quitting, because she needed space to matter more than mass. Log shrank with her as she did it, settling back toward its familiar length while staying taller than she was, because it always was.

  She swung again, and this time Log clipped a slime wolf into the ground instead of grinding it into paste.

  Meka was there immediately.

  She dropped to a knee, vines pinning the creature in place, and she reached into the wobbling gel with the calm certainty of someone who’d done it before. Bunny kept snapping at the thing’s face, spoiling its bite and buying her the second she needed.

  Meka yanked, and the core came free.

  Winnie saw it and grinned wider. “See? I can do finesse.”

  “You’re doing adequate,” I said, and I meant it.

  Another slime wolf lunged for Meka.

  I stepped into its path and used the staff like a barrier, not a weapon. The flex enchantment let it absorb the hit and spring back without throwing me off balance. I shoved, Winnie followed with Log, and the wolf went skidding.

  “We keep moving,” I said. “We’ve got to collect, what is it, like ninety of these things today? It’s the last day and we’ve been slacking.”

  Winnie snorted. “Hey, it’s not my fault you both got busy with that mini boss.”

  “I said it wasn’t a good idea,” Meka replied calmly. “Copper mini bosses aren’t worth anything.”

  I looked at her. “It was worth the experience, wasn’t it? And they always have an actual copper core. So, what are we up to now, like seven?”

  “You’re forgetting about the three we got from that berry bear quest,” Winnie said.

  “So, ten,” I said. “And we’re making Log into a growth weapon first, just to make sure we’re still on the same page, right?”

  “Always picking what we should do,” Winnie said, still pleased. “Making sure we take the same quests, go after the same things. Making sure we work as a team and all.” She huffed a laugh. “And now you’re planning to make us personal gear too, set on making us go first and not even thinking about yourself.” She shook her head. “So selfish, our little Runt.”

  Meka didn’t look up, because she was already reaching for the next opening. “That’s right,” she said, and her voice stayed calm while her vines did ugly work.

  I kept my eyes on the pack as they regrouped, and I measured distances the way I’d learned to in a body that couldn’t afford mistakes. Winnie was the wall. Meka was the hands. I was the hinge that kept the door from coming off its frame.

  “Left,” I said, and pointed with the staff. “Two incoming. Winnie, short swings. Meka, be ready.”

  Winnie shifted her feet, and Log came around like the world owed her payment.

  The fight stayed ugly, loud, and fast, and for the first time in a long time it also felt like we belonged in it.

  We’d gotten pretty efficient at fighting as a team in the time since we started. Other groups had formed too, not all from just our class. Some of the magical trainees had joined up with people from other regions, mixing disciplines and styles. Raven had ended up with a cluster of fighters from her own clan, which made their team extremely specialized, but they worked well together. It was good to see everyone finding their own path.

  For us, it was convenience at first. Keeping the trainees together made it easier to feel like a real guild instead of a loose collection of kids sent out to die slowly. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just convenient.

  Our fourth member stepped out of the shadows while I was watching the tree line.

  It was still strange to me how different she was from her brother. Clarice moved with patience instead of force, thoughtful where he was loud. She handled a bow like it was an extension of her arm, calm and precise, with none of the arrogance people usually expected from someone tied to Randall.

  After Randall brought her back, when he rejoined us at Spooner’s Guild Hall in the Copper Zone and actually resumed teaching, he kept his word. He asked for input. He followed the curriculum instead of improvising disasters.

  Clarice had been sick for a reason. She’d absorbed a copper core far too young after stealing it from her brother and eating it, thinking it was candy. The Duke took her into his care when it nearly killed her, which explained a lot once we learned the Duke was Randall’s uncle. That made him Clarice’s uncle too.

  “Winnie,” Clarice said calmly, bow already in her hands. “Have you tried not going all the way? Maybe a half change instead of full bore?”

  Winnie blinked at her mid-step. “I never thought about that. It’s usually all or nothing.”

  She rolled her shoulders and shifted her grip on Log. “I might try that.”

  Winnie scanned the trees, then looked back at us with that same bright, fearless expression she wore right before she did something reckless. “Claire, Meka, Runt, we’ve only got so much daylight left before we’ve got to head back.”

  She grinned and lifted Log into position. “So, let’s stop talking and get killing.”