I gritted my teeth as I brought Roq down on the back of the Shardfang's head, shattering the stone hide and skull beneath. It didn't even have time to whine and just dropped dead.

  “YES!” Roq's voice thundered in my mind. “That's it! That's the one! LEVEL SEVEN! I can feel the power flowing through me! The raw strength! The AWESOMENESS!”

  “Congratulations, Roq!”

  I smiled at my weapon's enthusiasm and stepped back, breathing heavily more from adrenaline than exhaustion. Swinging the hammer wasn't that much of a problem with my high strength stat, but battle fatigue got to everyone.

  “You earned it.”

  “Of course I earned it! Did you see how I obliterated that pathetic excuse for armor? Like smashing a glass bottle! Speaking of which, we should celebrate with more blood! And get drunk later! Maybe even pour some of that good stuff you and Pa drink over my head? I wonder what it tastes like…oh, oh, oh! Maybe I can absorb some of it? Pour some in a bucket and put me in it, will you?”

  Eryn dropped from her elevated position where she'd been covering our hunt and landed gracefully.

  Over twenty Shardfang carcasses lay scattered across the ravine floor. We didn't have the time to store them as we'd been running and fighting them along the way.

  “Did they even scratch your shield?” she asked Knut, nodding at the carcasses. “It almost feels like we're cheating with you here.”

  Knut's laugh echoed off the stone walls.

  “Stone mutts?” He kicked one of them. “Cannot hurt unless they get lucky, pull down and chew on me like old shoe.” He tapped my chest with his mace. “You watch my back and little bird killing from high? Not happening. Kill hundreds, no problem.”

  I looked around the ravine. It had been my first hunt with Eryn after getting Roq, and she was right. The kills had been weirdly easy compared to then.

  “Why aren't more people hunting here?” I asked. “Last time we found... several gems, and the carcasses made solid gear.”

  “Shardfangs not hurt tank much,” Knut said, showing me his barely scratched shield, “But hard to kill.” He looked pointedly at Roq. “Supposedly,” he said and gestured at the bodies. “Danger for squishes like healer and damage dealer. Most groups avoid unless have special armor penetration skills and good teamwork.”

  Eryn nodded, swiping a carcass into her storage.

  “Makes sense they are weak against heavy armor but strong against light or medium.” She tapped her leather cuirass. “One good bite through this and I'd be in trouble.”

  “Hello? HELLO?” Roq's indignant voice rang in my head. “Are we just going to ignore my MAGNIFICENT achievement? Level seven! Seven! That's a lucky number in some cultures. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do! You should throw me a feast! Writing songs! Commissioning statues of my glory!”

  I held up seven fingers for Eryn to see, and she grinned, walking over and patting Roq's head. I'd consumed the seven mind gems we'd gotten from our previous hunt with Knut, and now only missed one to hit level eight.

  “Your hammer seems particularly strong today,” she said casually. “Don't you think so, Knut?”

  Knut stroked his trimmed beard, examining Roq.

  “Is good weapon,” he agreed. “Though you treat strange.” He squinted at us. “Like... obsession? Always patting, talking about. Like alive.”

  I couldn't help but smile as Roq preened.

  “Well, at least SOMEONE appreciates quality! Though he could have mentioned my perfect balance, or my devastating impact, or my smashing good looks!”

  Knut shrugged.

  “Maybe normal. I sleep with first dagger under pillow until ten years old.” He grinned. “Talk to it too. Tell stories. Was a good dagger.”

  I laughed, partly at Knut's admission and partly at Roq's spluttering mental response about being compared to a child's security weapon.

  “Lead on,” I said, gesturing for Knut to take point as we began storing the Shardfang carcasses. “Let's see what else we can find.”

  “We are NOT done discussing my level up!” Roq insisted as we moved deeper into the ravine. “I demand proper recognition! Perhaps a speech about my magnificence? Or at least a dramatic reenactment of that GLORIOUS finishing blow!”

  The ravine walls loomed above us as we walked deeper into monster territory, my shield ready and Roq eager in my grip. The morning's frustrating meetings still churned in my gut, making me grip Roq's handle tighter than necessary.

  “Your blood pressure is rising,” Roq observed. “Thinking about those pathetic enforcers again? Or perhaps replaying my GLORIOUS achievement? Level seven! Did I mention that?”

  “Just... remembering this morning.”

  Commander Edwin's words echoed in my head. He'd stood in Pa's workshop, his massive frame making the space feel cramped despite its size. His scarred face had been grim as he'd explained the guild's position.

  “If I see anyone breaking the law, I'll put them down,” he'd said, his voice deep. “But I can't go hunting these thugs, even knowing their threats. The guild's neutrality is too important.”

  “Neutrality is for cowards,” Roq had said. “Why have power if you don't use it?”

  I ducked under a low-hanging outcrop, silently following Knut. Eryn moved above us, scouting.

  Harold had backed Edwin up, though his expression showed how much it pained him.

  “The crown already eyes the guild's wealth with suspicion,” he'd explained. “One wrong move could spark a war between the kingdom and the guild.” He'd adjusted his sleeve, fidgeting with his empty socket. “Now, if Ash was a classed adventurer and living at the smithy, that would be different. An attack on you would be an attack on the guild.”

  “And my family?” I'd asked, already knowing the answer from his expression.

  Rocks clattered somewhere ahead and Knut raised his shield. I turned to cover our rear. A moment later Eryn clicked her tongue above us.

  Harold's reluctant words played through my mind as we resumed our careful advance.

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  “It would only apply to you, Ash. Not your family.” His genuine regret didn’t help much. “People are still people. They fight over position and wealth even with monsters trying to exterminate us. We have to draw lines somewhere.”

  The real gut punch had been Isabel Pine's absence. We'd requested a meeting, hoping Ma could leverage the smithy's value and get a royal mortgage to pay down Domitius. The royal bank's representative hadn't even bothered to show up.

  Victor, the alchemist, had caught us on the way to the rift and pulled Eryn aside to pass on a message from Isabel. She'd received a gem-gram ordering a freeze on loans to anyone below level five reputation for two months, and how she'd love to help, but even if she gave the loan, it would have been considered illegal and the crown would take the smithy instead of house Domitius.

  “Three o'clock,” Eryn whispered, her bow already drawing.

  I pushed the memory aside, focusing on the hunt.

  Rage bubbled up, hot and fierce. This was my anger, my fury at these noble bastards trying to destroy my family again. Not Roq's bloodlust, not his eagerness for combat.

  This was mine.

  A Shardfang sat in the shadows ahead, chest barely moving. Good. Something I could actually fight.

  “Same plan,” Knut whispered. “I get them angry. You watch my back. Little bird?” He grinned up at where Eryn perched on a ledge above us. “You shoot what you want, when you want.”

  “YES!” Roq's enthusiasm flooded my mind. “More destruction! Draw them in, smash them to pieces! Though naturally I will do most of the smashing.”

  “Your modesty never fails to impress me.”

  “I know! I could brag SO much more but I don't want to distract you. Might miss one of the monsters and smash yourself instead.”

  “Works for me,” I said, and Knut picked up and threw a rock, bouncing off the nearest Shardfang's stone-plated head with a crack. The creature's eyes snapped open, a growl building in its throat.

  “Come, little rock puppies!” Knut said, banging his mace on the shield. “Uncle Knut comes for play!”

  * * *

  My eyes drifted over to Eryn as she stretched, working out the tension from her latest shot. Even covered in dust and sweat from the hunt, she was... my thoughts scattered as Roq made a strange sound in my mind - something between a satisfied sigh and... was that a burp?

  “What in the rift was that?”

  “Just picking up some human customs,” Roq said smugly. “I believe that's the proper way to express satisfaction after consuming something particularly enjoyable. Now imagine if I could physically enjoy all that blood and gore. I would be the happiest hammer alive.”

  “Where in the class-cursed scavenger did you learn that?”

  “Your large friend Knut always does it after a particularly large gulp of beer. I've been studying him since he's the most fitting of any kind of admiration.”

  I couldn't help laughing.

  “That's because he has Northern manners. We don't do that. And you especially don’t. You don't even have a belly!”

  “Well, how else am I supposed to show satisfaction with the blood drinking?” Roq asked. “It's not like I can smile or lick my lips... which I also don't have. Or maybe you can do it FOR me? Hmm…it wouldn’t be that satisfying, but still maybe worth a try?”

  I swiped a Shardfang carcass into my spatial storage.

  “How about a nice resonant ring? Something dignified and hammer-like. Maybe harmonize with the sound of breaking stone. That seems more fitting for a soul weapon of your magnificence.”

  “Ring?” Roq muttered, considering my words. “That does have a certain dramatic flair to it. Yes, I will have to work on my... how do we even call it? Do we need to come up with a new name? Oh, wait! I know! I will mimic explosions! Yes, destruction and devastation! That is all me!”

  “How are you two holding up?” Knut called over, interrupting Roq's musing. “Ready for more hunting?”

  Eryn checked her quiver, fingers running across her arrows.

  “Still good,” she said. “Lost a few armor-piercing ones, though I have enough left to keep shooting for a while.” She tapped one of the broadheads. “And I've got plenty of normal ones, plus enough fire arrows to explode a troop of glowcaps. Not that they're any good against these stone-skinned bastards.”

  Knut lifted his shield, running a tough glove across its scratched surface. What had been flat metal this morning now bore dozens of deep gouges and scores.

  “Rock puppies feisty today,” he noted with a grunt. He turned to me. “Ash? Still good?”

  I nodded, spinning Roq in my grip, his leather strap twisting.

  “WHEEE!”

  “I'm fine,” I said. “But we need to keep moving, and fast. If we're lucky, we might get enough gems to push me to level nine.”

  Knut grunted.

  “Would be great luck indeed.” He waved his wrist at me. “Spatial storage full. How get more gems? Randomly swap carcasses?”

  I glanced at Knut, wondering just how much he'd figured out about Roq's abilities. The big man's expression gave away nothing, which was a bit unsettling.

  “Actually,” Eryn began, her voice carefully casual, “We didn't want to mention it before, but Ash has a kind of... keen sense of touch. Sometimes it's almost like he can tell which carcasses have gems inside.”

  Knut shook his head, beard swaying.

  “Impossible,” he declared. “Only children and desperate scavengers believe such stories. Many claim such powers.” He spat to the side. “Never true.”

  “That's mostly true,” Eryn agreed, glancing at me and clearly trying not to laugh. “But sometimes, well, sometimes Ash gets it right.” She shrugged. “Not always, mind you. Why don't we try it here?”

  Knut shrugged.

  “Can try. Not too dangerous,” he said. Then his expression grew serious. “Shardfangs still shardfangs.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Far from base,” Knut explained. “Rock puppies don't attack camp. They ambush hunters here. Killing people.” He waved a hand. “More kills give limited benefit for camp and Dawnwatch.” His mace tapped against his shield. “And no more valuable carcasses to swap for less valuable. Only shardfangs. Could go back, unload, come back today.”

  “Let's try our way today,” I said. “If it doesn't work, we'll do it your way next time.”

  Knut raised his shield and weapon with a resigned sigh.

  “Fine. Two against one. Do your way. You pay me. I work, not talk.”

  “How many gemmed carcasses from that last fight?”

  “Eryn has two, and you've got one,” Roq said. “Though I still think my burp was perfectly acceptable.”

  I tapped Roq against the shield again.

  “We're burning daylight,” I said. “Let's move.”

  Knut chuckled, shaking his head as he took point.

  * * *

  I yawned, watching Knut work on his pauldron from my spot on a rock. The big man cursed in his native tongue as he struggled with the leather strap, cut clean through by a particularly unlucky shardfang's claw. His armor had taken a beating. Scratches and gouges covered the metal surface, and at least three straps needed replacing.

  “That last pack was INCREDIBLE!” Roq's voice rang through my mind, still high on bloodlust. “Did you see how I crushed that last one's back? The way it bent before just... IMPLODING? And then when the others tried to flank us, but Knut caught them with his shield bash while I SMASHED their heads.”

  “How many gems do we have now?” I asked before Roq could go on to replay the entire battle blow-by-blow.

  “Ten beautiful, precious mind gems,” Roq said proudly. “Though, you know?” His voice took on a wheedling tone. “I think I can sense another pack nearby. Just one more fight? Please? I'm SO close to level eight, I can practically taste it! The power is RIGHT THERE, waiting for me to grasp it!”

  I shifted my weight, feeling the day's exertion in my muscles. Maybe Roq could heal it, but Knut was the one who had taken the brunt of the damage today, and all without a single complaint. Hell, if we asked him to keep going, I was pretty sure he'd just grunt and do it.

  “Probably better to head back now. We should care for Knut and not push him too much. Besides, I don't want you to level up just yet. We wouldn't want a repeat of... last time.”

  “That was different!” Roq said. “I've learned so much self restraint since then! And appreciation for trust and other human things! Just IMAGINE what new ability I might gain! Perhaps I could shoot lightning! Or create earthquakes! Or maybe,” his voice dropped to an eager whisper. “Maybe I could learn to FLY!”

  “A flying hammer that shoots lightning? Now I've heard everything.”

  “Why not?” Roq demanded. “If birds can do it, why can't I? I'm CLEARLY superior to any mere avian!”

  “Time to head back,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. I walked over and clanked my shield against Knut's and the big man nodded his agreement.

  Eryn walked over to me and our foreheads touched gently.

  “Good job today,” I whispered, breathing in her familiar hunting scent of leather and sweet sweat.

  “You too,” she murmured back.

  “Oh wonderful,” Roq grumbled. “MORE human mating rituals. As if heading back early isn't bad enough.”

  Knut led us out of the ravine and we began our journey back to base, our spatial storages full yet again.

  “But are you ABSOLUTELY SURE we can't just kill a few more packs?”

  “No, Roq. Not today.”

  “Not even a tiny one?”

  “Home. Now.”

  “Fine,” Roq sulked. “But I want to speak to your manager.”