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Chapter 32: Betrayal

  My skin prickles. My heart drops. How did that update? Who knows what I can do? Who knows what level I am?

  “You know the answer to that question, Competitor.”

  No. No, I don’t. I don’t think even Assless has any idea what I can actually do. No one knows, except the three aliens in my group.

  “Precisely.”

  Why would they… why would any of them…

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry, Competitor. Even I had begun to doubt myself. But I told you this alliance was temporary. Perhaps now you’ll listen. The only ones you can trust are those of your own species.”

  It isn’t really complete, though, and I told them everything about my abilities at this point. What if… what if they’re leading people astray on purpose? Trading a half-truth for something important?

  “Is that what you really believe?”

  I need to ask them.

  “You don’t need me to point out that lies exist, do you?”

  Sighing, I shift over to the last list on the end.

  Surviving Competitors: 37,975

  The First (Laranya) - 2,876

  The Second (Ekinor) - 5,211

  The Third (Drelni) - 4,571

  The Fourth (Aethid) - 3,747

  The Fifth (Qellis) - 4,313

  The Sixth (Urnza) - 3,314

  The Seventh (Otachai) - 2,981

  The Eighth (Gorinar) - 3,603

  The Ninth (Bui) - 2,412

  The Tenth (Klaspe) - 1

  The Eleventh (Cobald) - 3,994

  The Twelfth (Human) - 952

  Okay. It’s bad. Under a thousand. Yup. Super bad. But at least I’m not entirely alone. There’s still enough of us to muster some fight. That the Ekinor have the most remaining is entirely unsurprising. They seem like a species forged in war and deprivation.

  And, somehow, we aren’t losing. Whatever a Klaspe is, they’re down to a single, solitary fighter among all of the thousands that were sent into this shard. I can’t imagine how that happened so quickly. What are they made of, dandelion fluff? Do they come apart at a stiff breeze?

  “That is indeed misfortune beyond expectation,” Kora says slowly. “To be so thoroughly defeated… at least we have learned something of the Ninth. This ‘Bui’ species is in the bottom fourth with humanity. That they remain a mystery is troubling, but they do appear to be dying in great numbers.”

  Yay. Death.

  “Hey, let go of me, legs!”

  The familiar voice, raised more in indignation than fear, turns my head. Zara, her chitin pressed into expressionless lines that nonetheless give off anger, marches Burl down the street, a pair of narrow limbs dragging him forward by the snout. Threenut scuttles along behind them, looking like a dog afraid of its master’s kick. Zara catches sight of me and cuts directly through the crowd in my direction.

  My heart turns to ice. One of them betrayed me. I trusted them, and they sold that trust the moment they were out of my sight. God, it could be all of them.

  Zara comes up short at the sight of my face.

  “I see you already know,” she says flatly. “Good.”

  “It was Burl?” I ask, frowning down at the little Cobald. “Really?”

  “I can explain!” He slaps at Zara’s arms ineffectually. “If the spider would just let me go!”

  At my nod, she does so, giving him a little shove.

  “Well?” I say, folding my arms.

  I should probably hold onto my anger, but the little reptile looks like he wants to melt into the floor. He can barely meet my eye. Fighting the urge to pat his little head, I wait. Threenut, still looking ashamed, gives him a nudge.

  “Alright, alright.” He’s still silent for a moment. He darts a glance up at my face and seems to steel himself. “Listen, boss. We was going to get a room, right? Just like you said. When we got there, a little faerie dude in a uniform greeted us. Turns out, rooms need to get registered, right? Some kind of personal attunement so that they’d be safe. Had to know who we are, and some basic info…”

  “The Qellis scammed the shit out of you,” I say, realization dawning. “The rooms are already attuned, aren’t they?”

  “There isn’t even anything called attunement,” Zara says flatly.

  “Water me roots with tears, twig,” Threenut says, hanging his head almost to his belly. “I should have stopped him, but blind too was this root that delved forward into darkness.”

  “Well… fuck.” I glance up into the sky. Immediately, I catch sight of the prince, his face so smug I want to crush his little wings under a full power Strengthen. He descends towards us with his bodyguards floating at his side, his smile nasty. “God. Here he comes.”

  “Who?” Burl asks, turning and squinting in the sky. “Hey, let me talk to him. Maybe I can—”

  “You’ve done enough,” Zara cuts him off, voice like a stone rain. “Let her speak.”

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  “Hello, human,” the Qellis prince says, his dagger teeth gleaming. “The way you spoke to me earlier, I thought you might be strong. I mean, an unknown, coming into Haven with dangerous confidence and a coterie of exotic allies at her beck and call?” He glances over at the list a few feet away, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Merely an upstart brat, hardly strong to notice, let alone fear. I will enjoy—”

  “God help me, you’re really annoying, Vurry.”

  His eyes flash at the interruption.

  “My name is—”

  “I know what it is, princeling. Third among your species, right? Which reminds me…” I turn and gesture grandly towards my fancy slippers. “These are yours, right? Did you know Elia personally, or are you too far from the throne?”

  “You dare flaunt—”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” I unleash my best glare. He doesn’t look impressed. “Listen, Vurry. I hate grifters and scammers, and your entire species seems made up of them. I’m sure you’re going to do your best to kill me, but you were going to do that anyway. It’s the point of this whole party, right? Let’s rip off the bandaid. Challenge me to a duel. Here and now.”

  One of the prince’s bodyguards draws her sword, a wicked foot long bit of shining metal.

  “My lord, let me—”

  “No, Frellia,” Vurin says, not taking his eyes off me. His gaze flicks to my list of supposed powers and back. “I’ll not risk you for pride.”

  “Cowards, as I figured,” I say. “Well, if you’re going to chicken out, I’d rather not hear your voice anymore, Vurry. Do me a favor and piss off, yeah?”

  He opens his mouth as if to speak, tiny red fangs gleaming. When I raise my eyebrows, he seems to think better of it, turning and flitting into the sky on shimmering wings. His two bodyguards follow, Frellia’s glare lingering on me.

  Identification: Frellia, Qellis Woundmaker

  Level: 21

  Strengths: Agility, Toughness

  Weaknesses: Intelligence

  The Qellis are the Competitor species of the Fifth. A species built upon a strict and immensely confusing system of honor, the Qellis believe that promises made and words spoken must always be truthful. That doesn’t prevent them from being some of the least trustworthy entities to ever compete in the Tournament.

  “Stronger than her master. A fool, to follow an arbitrary hierarchy even here.”

  It does say intelligence is her weakness, Kora.

  “True.”

  The prince’s other bodyguard, a soft-faced pixie with long blonde hair, doesn't look at us. Still, something tells me she is watching me no less closely than her warrior friend. Closer, maybe. The hairs on my arms stand up, and I shiver.

  Identification: Qellis Competitor

  Strengths:

  Weaknesses:

  The Qellis are the Competitor species of the Fifth. A species built upon a strict and immensely confusing system of honor, the Qellis believe that promises made and words spoken must always be truthful. That doesn’t prevent them from being some of the least trustworthy entities to ever compete in the Tournament.

  Uh… what?

  “She must have some kind of Skill that obscures the truth of her to powers such as yours. One to watch, and be wary of.”

  Definitely. I didn’t realize how much I had already come to rely on my Identification. The last time it failed, I’d been faced with that crazy embodiment of fear itself that the Seventh sent to kill me. Even then, my Identification had given me its level. To be blocked out entirely…

  Forcing a smile, I turn back to my companions, putting the mysterious faerie out of my mind for the time being.

  “Well, that was exciting. Burl…”

  “Yeah, I owe you. Again.” He hangs his head even lower, his snout practically touching the ground. “Sorry, boss.”

  “It can happen to anyone. We just need to be wary of the Qellis. They seem to want to win through underhanded shit.” I sigh, walking over and patting the little lizard’s shoulder. His rough scales are softer than they look, closer to snake skin than rock. “Regardless, let’s go find your real boss.”

  “You are my real boss,” he says, glancing at me briefly. Sketchily.

  “He found his Mr. Grent,” Zara says, folding four arms across her thorax. “And also found that he is not, in fact, welcome back into his corporation.”

  “What? You guys were gone for what? Five fricken minutes?”

  “It was an exciting five minutes,” Zara says, her voice suggesting anything but.

  “Damn, Burl, I’m sorry. I know how much your job meant to you.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, looking up and meeting my eyes. His mouth opens into a grin that reveals far too many teeth. “You’ve been a fairer boss than he was anyway. I think, in the end, I can go farther in this Corp.”

  “We aren’t a… you know what, nevermind. Lead me to the rooms. I think I’d like the chance to pass out for a few hours and forget about all this shit.”

  As we walk, we get several strange looks. At first, I think it’s because we’re new to Haven, but then I catch a few of the louder whispers as we pass.

  “...are they together? Why? What could they…”

  “...must be against some kind of rule, to ally with…”

  And, from a particularly ugly Ekinor with glowing silver eyes…

  “...weak must band together to stave off annihilation. We must report…”

  I do think we’re causing a bit of a kerfuffle.

  “I told you that interspecies alliances are rare, and often of convenience. A few dozen Competitors overheard how you speak to one another, and the truth has been inferred about the nature of your group.”

  Maybe we’ll start a trend.

  “By the Twelve, I hope not.”

  The jaunt over to the Competitor abodes is uneventful, though I wouldn’t call it unexciting. Competitors of all species stand out in an array both impossible and overwhelming. Between those with species evolutions and the nine pure races, there is always something new and extraordinary to look at. Warriors of the Gorinar with shining weapons that look strange in their dirty hands, magical Ekinor with staves topped with glowing crystals, flowing Urnza leaving colorful slime trails, Otachai and Cobalds scampering about beneath, and the ever-present Qellis floating gracefully overhead… I can hardly take in a tenth of it without my mind spinning.

  The lobby, for lack of a better word, of the Competitor apartments is thankfully quiet and largely empty, of furniture and sentients alike. The steel grey walls are made of some alloy I’m not familiar with, not that my knowledge of metallurgy is particularly expansive. A dozen hallways lead out in as many directions, species names clearly labeled over each.

  There is a desk on the far wall that looks entirely out of place in the empty room, a Qellis wearing a bellhop’s uniform sitting behind it. No doubt the dude who scammed Burl for our information. He smiles broadly as he takes us in.

  Burl immediately marches over and challenges him to a duel. He declines, of course. He’s only level ten. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spends literally every waking hour in this lobby hoping to find the next idiot to trick. His name is Tout, and something about his smugness makes me want to put ants in his sleeping bag.

  “Alright, guys,” I say, glancing at my companions. “I need some time. Is there any way for us to communicate?”

  “I can help with that!” the Qellis says without a hint of shame.

  “No, thanks,” I say, not even glancing the pixie’s way. “What about…”

  I trail off, glancing again at the Qellis watching us attentively. I was about to suggest something through our party interface, but I don’t know how valuable that knowledge might be.

  “You’re learning.”

  I try.

  “Can you guys come to my room?” I ask, eyeing the hallways warily.

  “Nay, twig,” Threenut says. “Stone bars our roots the passage.”

  “Annoying, but fair. Let’s say… ten hours? I don’t know how much you guys need to sleep, but I definitely need some time.”

  “It is decided,” Zara says solemnly. “We will return here in ten hours.”

  “Be careful, guys,” I warn, feet already headed towards the hall marked ‘Human.’ “Don’t get yourselves in trouble, and don’t accept any duels from strangers. If you want to be up and about, learn what you can, but, again, be careful.”

  “Rest well, twig. We shall be here when ye wake.”

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