The sun felt warmer the next day. The little village of Verdance glowed in its light. The tingle of its rays ran along my exposed skin, easing the occasional twinge in my hand. The perks life had as an avatar were immense.

  But the wooden door had a dull feel to the hand I pressed against it, and the air outside the stone house, sweet as it was, might have been sweeter once. I couldn’t remember, though I was sure of it. Life had been piercing. I recalled that much. Knew it. This world? Just an imitation of life.

  Elora pushed on my back. “That’s funny, I thought the door was open.”

  I rolled my eyes and stepped out of her way. She glided out and spun around on the flagstones, Petal Dew flying around and around her as if in orbit. The sundress she wore flared around her knees, reminding me of an old movie with a nun, singing on a mountain. Her green eyes sparkled with vivacity.

  “Gonna start singing about the sound of music?” I joked, rubbing the back of my neck. I was glad to see her feeling revived after her near-death experience. Relieved that she didn’t lose one of her five precious lives.

  She flipped her middle finger at me and beamed. “I’m feeling amazing. Isn’t it crazy, how fast we can heal? I would have been in the hospital forever if I’d gotten hurt like that before. But I was running around, still fighting! Crazy…”

  I chuckled at the rude gesture and nodded at the rest. It was crazy. Unnatural. That’s what this place was. I looked at the sun, mood dimming.

  “Alga is going to kill me. I haven’t done any chores yet.”

  “Better go,” she said, then paused. “Want me to go help?

  My first instinct was to say no. Too much trouble. They wouldn’t like me hanging around with non-orcs, and I didn’t need the grief. And then, I rebelled at the thought. My party was a mixed group, and easily as much a part of my life as they were. I took a long, deep breath and nodded.

  “Sure. Until the Arena grabs us, if it does.” I calculated, “Three fights in three days. If we’re all teamed up again, it could hinge on the most injured of us, or there’s a timetable.”

  I didn’t mention the possibility that we’d be split yet again. But what was that original split for, if not to get us all evened out?

  “We should go back to the Labyrinth district and ask about the fine print on this sport,” Elora said, taking a step towards the path away from Verdance. “My contract is pretty vague about fight frequency. Says nothing about the summoning tokens, other than that they’re part of the Arena contract.”

  Why hadn’t I done that in the first place? Oh yeah, I hated reading rules. I skimmed, looking for danger words, and hadn’t seen anything particularly terrible. I mean, who really reads all the terms and conditions of things they sign up for? Not me.

  “Let’s go to my district,” I said, tilting my head toward the path that led that way.

  She grinned and darted around me, jumping up behind me. I gagged at the sudden press of her arms on my throat, her body pulling my hair.

  “What are you doing?” I choked. I got a hand around her arm to tug it off my trachea.

  “I’m tired,” she moaned dramatically. “I wore myself out already.”

  “Then you’ll be useless for chores,” I deadpanned, prying her arms off.

  She tickled my sides and begged, “Carry me?”

  “Why?” I grunted, a little annoyed that she was starting to think of me as a horse.

  “Why not?” She countered. I turned to see her pouting.

  I smirked, “What do I get out of it?”

  “The lasting joy of helping me, naturally. And… a little something extra.”

  I snorted, but since it really was nothing to carry her, and a little of my heart had been crushed watching her fight and repaired by staying with her as she healed… Fuck it.

  I turned and dropped to a knee and growled, “I’m not your horse. This isn’t an always thing.”

  “Yes, yes,” she said, patting my head with an offhand tone after eagerly jumping on my back again. She didn’t strangle me in the process this time. Instead, she kissed the point of my jaw, just beneath my ear.

  The little something extra lingered there. The shape and warmth of her lips burned there long after she’d pulled away. My skin wasn’t sensitive, but I was uncomfortably aware of her, after that. Not in a bad way. In a distracting way.

  The walk wasn’t long, our districts being near each other, but where the vines ended and the plains began, I dropped to a knee. She slid off. I faced her and squinted, unsure of how to explain things, but I tried.

  “Orcs don’t speak English, and they don’t like anyone who’s not an orc. If I tell you to leave, just go.”

  She frowned and nodded, elvish ears twitching, her hands clasping before her.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Don’t show weakness, and don’t look down. Always look an orc in the eye,” I said, tipping her chin up with a finger. She blinked and nodded.

  This should be just fine. Nothing would go wrong. I sighed at my inner thoughts and turned to step out of the viney bower to the plains. A scent caught my attention. It smelled like unwashed skin and dumpsters. The stink cut through the scent of humid earth and plants basking in sunlight. I knew that smell.

  Crouched by the entrance, a Patchwork Priest looked up. The nameplate was generic. It was an NPC and just as sketchy as the others I’d seen before. Wisps of hair floated in the breeze; tattered, patched robes hung on the NPC’s emaciated frame. A few teeth showed in a hideous smile.

  “Come, hear the word of our Lord and Savior,” he said.

  Why? I almost walked past, but Elora grabbed my hand and tugged me closer to it. Her curiosity was even greater than mine in general, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. She engaged with it.

  “Tell me your task,” she said, wisely not blind-accepting it the way Jake and I had, a handful of fortnights and a bajillion events ago.

  “Take this idol to Lacunae. It’s worth the travel, I promise.”

  He pulled a box from the hiding spot beneath the arrangement of his filthy robes. Gross.

  “Gross,” Elora murmured, crouching to pick one of the glowing bone spikes out.

  [Party Task: Bring Beauty to Rot. Rewards: XP: 2000, 100 diamonds, 6 peridot, 6 All-Element Cores.]

  [Accept: Y/N]

  My arms folded over my chest. Messing with Shade didn’t exactly pique my interest, and that huge payoff? Suspicious. My last visit there had been a little hostile. And that goat—I shook my head.

  Party chat lit up.

  Akilah: Do it! I want one of those cores!

  Jake: Take it, Elora. We’ll meet you there.

  Their voices overlapped. I read the chat log to sort out what they were saying besides yes. Fig and Frag also agreed to the quest. Since it was a group thing, with group gains, I had a hard time arguing it. Even with the bad blood in Shade. Maybe they’d forgive us for mocking their religion? I could hope.

  Elora glanced at me, and I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a great idea, but the rewards are really tempting. Up to you.”

  [Y]

  The chain awoke, scrolling across the aspect screen that popped open.

  Take Bone Idol to Lacunae and plant in a field.Seek Patchwork Priest for quest: Return the Soul to Its Journey.Reward: 1000 XP, 6 diamond

  My lip curled up. Here we go again. With a sigh, I said, “I still have chores to do.”

  “We can do that first,” Elora agreed.

  We let everyone know we wouldn’t be there for a while and walked on down the dirt path toward the collection of yurts and wooden buildings in the distance. Elora walked stiffly as she saw orcs going about their business. Most were shearing sheep, tending the buffalo lizards, or sitting in the shade of a baobab, watching us with unreadable expressions.

  I glanced over at the larger yurts, beyond the animal pens. They usually came out at night, and little was seen of the warrior caste during the day. I veered toward Bauring Dath as dark clouds rolled on the horizon. The scent of rain rode the wind before it.

  I pushed through the door. Beyond, the tavern floor was empty. Alga was throwing fresh straw on the floor when she looked up. Her brow arched as her eyes fell upon the elf beside me.

  “Who is that?” Her voice had notes of offense, a hint of something accusatory, but hardly a warning.

  “One of my team. She fights with me,” I said.

  Alga looked at me like I was crazy. She tossed the last of the rushes on the floor and brushed her hands on her apron. Moving closer, she looked me up and down and shook her head, tongue clucking. “You even smell like elf. I guess we can’t expect too much from a half-breed. You’re late.”

  I shrugged, no argument there. I was. And though I’d grown as a warrior, she could still wreck me with her fist. Maybe not as bad as the warriors, but I was level 10. She was level 15. Enough of a tier difference that I didn’t want to push it, unless I had no other choice.

  I hated how she looked at Elora. However, I also knew she’d felt the same about me at first. It wasn’t impossible to win her heart.

  “We’re here to do what you need.” I paused, then added, “The Arena might take us. We fight in the Labyrinth.”

  Her lips quirked, and she nodded. So she knew about that place. Though she never seemed to leave the district, it hinted at more. When Elora wasn’t there, I’d ask her.

  She went around the bar and threw up her usual basket of potatoes and a pot. She gestured at Elora. “You peel. Dathai, you go fetch charcoal and ten buckets of water for the barrel.”

  Elora glanced at me, frowning. I translated for her, and a relieved smile followed her nod. She eyed the basket, and her shoulders sagged. “No wonder you were always late when we met up.”

  I just grinned and set about doing what was asked of me. Once I was done with the fetching, I sat beside Elora to help her finish. The whole time, the Arena token lay dormant in my inventory. Instead of relief, it started to give me anxiety. It was like a terminal case of waiting. How long? Would we wait for a minute, an hour, a day?

  It got to me. My leg started bouncing, knee tapping on the bar, until Alga slapped her hand on the wood and stared pointedly at me.

  We stepped out into the pouring rain. The road turned to mud, and this time I carried her because she was wearing sandals. As if I hadn’t seen her going around barefoot half the time. Always an excuse with this one. She wore my eelskin cloak, holding the hood over my head. Rain still dripped into my eyes and soaked the front of my shirt, but it worked, more or less. I put her down when the downpour ended and we got to the cobblestone road.

  She shrieked, pointing, “Rainbow!”

  I cringed then looked up. True enough, a hazy ribbon of colors arced over the sky against the paling clouds. Nice.

  “Now for the long, boring walk to Lacunae—unless…”

  “I’m not riding a centaur,” I stated bluntly.

  She pouted but remained silent, while the soft flapping of her sandals on the stone beside me continued. “You suck.”

  I grinned. “If we can bribe a unicorn, maybe I’ll be interested.”

  Elora sucked in a breath and grabbed my wrist, eyes wide. “I know a guy!”

  She ran towards the towering woods of Heartland Park, pulling me behind her. Feelings jumbled. Ask any little girl anywhere: would they ride a unicorn? The child would agree with enthusiasm. The adult child? She’d be squealing on the inside while shrugging and nodding hard enough to dislocate her neck. On the inside?

  That was me.

  We got to a glade where a big, horned stallion was nipping clover. Majestically, brilliantly white, with an impossibly long mane and tail. I realized I’d probably seen him before, back when I was pissed and dragging Aran around on a rope. There was no time for wondering how Aran was before Elora ran up to him and spoke in rapid Fae.

  The unicorn listened, flicking an ear.

  He whinnied and nickered, shaking out his glorious mane. Elora’s expression scrunched awkwardly, like he said something mildly offensive. She looked at me and, after a brief pause, said, “He’ll carry me. You? Um, he’s calling someone.”

  While I was trying to decide whether I should be offended or grateful, a big black beast pushed through the brush. It wasn’t a horse, not a goat, nor a cat, but something with the features of all three. Horns rose proudly above its equine brow, with a wild mane that stuck up and out like an appaloosa’s. Its short black fur gleamed soft as a cat’s, and its hooves were big as a horse’s but cloven. A long, fluffy tail flicked, rose, and curled into a question mark behind it.

  “The orc-kin,” The creature rumbled with pleasure, fangs shining behind its black lips. “I’ve heard of you. I’ll take you to Lacunae.”

  I bowed, unsure of how else to respond, and said, “Thank you.”

  What the fuck was this thing? It had a name—Gobnet—but I wasn’t about to be rude and ask what it was. It slunk over and lay on its belly. Elora swung up on the unicorn’s back, struggling with her skirt to avoid flashing everyone. It still rose high once she had it situated, showing her thighs.

  Very cautiously, I straddled Gobnet and rested some of my weight just behind its shoulders. I asked, “How should I hold on?”

  “Tight, big boy,” it purred as it lurched to a stand.

  A flirtatious monster. Cool.

  In party chat, I asked: “What is this?”

  Elora glanced at me, a hand buried in the unicorn’s mane. Her mouth didn’t shift from the pleasant smile she wore, but she told me.

  Elora: “Phooka. Be careful and hold on tight. They often throw their riders for fun.”

  Of course. Naturally.

  -ARCHIVE-