Ayn stared at him in confusion. When she’d attacked, the man had found it funny, yet when the wolverine did, he acted like a scared child. Was he afraid of animals?

  The wolverine put her theory to the test, scrambling back down the stairs at the prone captain. The slick fur rug got within inches of snapping off the captain’s tricorne hat before the man rolled away with a tremulous shout. His crew ignored him and continued to cluster around a frantically whirling Kayara.

  Ayn had an idea. She vaulted over the railing, catching the captain on the back as he stood. They went down in a heap. The wolverine went for the tricorne again, and this time, its teeth sank in. Ayn nearly let go in surprise as the captain let out a bloodcurdling scream. The hat didn’t come off nor heal. Instead, it bled.

  She watched in dumbfounded amazement as the wolverine worked the tricorne like a corncob, punching holes in it while Blackdale writhed and screamed in Ayn’s grip. A blue wisp rose from the hat. A pair of clawed, disembodied hands appeared in the air. They clamped down on the wisp, and Blackdale vanished, his screams pulled into nothing. His crew followed a second later.

  PRIMARY QUEST COMPLETED: RELEASE CAPTAIN JAMES BLACKDALE’S SOUL

  DUNGEON FLOOR TEN CLEARED

  PARTY WILL BE TELEPORTED FROM THE DUNGEON IN TWO MINUTES

  Ayn snorted. “Release. Right.”

  The wolverine snorted back.

  With a last peal of thunder, the storm abated, the clouds dissipating like smoke underneath the heat of the sun.

  *****

  “He needs a name first.” Ayn motioned to the wolverine under her kitchen table, her other hand stroking Miit’s back as he purred.

  “He?” Bren asked. “It’s a boy?”

  Kayara rolled her eyes. “Clearly. Anyway, why the rush?”

  “Because he single-handedly took out Captain Blackdale,” Ayn said. “Besides, he’s a member of the party.”

  Kayara shrugged. “It looked like you had a hand in it, too.”

  “Kayara.”

  “Fine. He has been really useful. Uh…Wolverine.”

  It took Ayn a minute to realize that was an attempt at a name.

  “Really?” Bren asked. “That sharp tongue of yours, and all you’ve got, is Wolverine?”

  Kayara glared at Bren. “You’ve got something better?”

  “Sure. Lancelot.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair as if he’d answered the world’s hardest problem.

  “Wow. How about no?”

  “Baatar,” Sheyric muttered. “Means ‘hero’.”

  “Hero?” Ayn smiled. “I like that.”

  The wolverine in question rumbled in what Ayn decided was agreement.

  Kayara glanced at Ayn, then looked away. “Yeah. Okay. Baatar.”

  Kayara brought up her character screen, shutting down any attempts at further conversation. Ayn took the hint and brought up her own screen, punching in her twelve stat points. An equal spread of four to Health, four to Strength, and four to Agility. As much as she was getting hit recently, she considered adding an extra point to two to Health, but she needed to keep the Aegis in top form.

  With their stats divided up and no new skill or abilities until the next level, the party politely declined an offer of an early lunch from Ayn’s mother but gladly took her up on the suggestion they take Mitt out with them as they perused the market, or in Ayn’s case, talked with Tav.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  She had Miit draped over her shoulders, in deep in discussion about what Tav could do with all the chitin she’d picked up on floor ten, when Bren came down the half-hidden path to Tav’s stall with a determined look in his eye.

  “We need to complete floor eleven,” he said. “Today.”

  A mental image of Kayara’s glare sent a chill up Ayn’s spine. “That’s a bad idea. We’ve already been pushing way faster than normal. By this point, we should be taking close to a week doing quests and jobs to prepare for each floor, not to mention getting decent rest.”

  Ayn left out the part where she’d get terrible sleep regardless, between the nightmares and the rapidly declining familiar who slept at her side.

  “I’m not sleeping well, anyway,” Bren said.

  Ayn couldn’t hide her surprise. “You too?”

  “How could I? Arlen’s on to floor fifteen. I heard he’s got it scheduled for three days from now.”

  Ah. Right. Of course he’d be struggling with that. Every time it looked like they could close the gap between Bren and his rival, Arlen’s family simply smoothed out the road to keep him multiple steps ahead.

  “It’s not like we have any jobs or quests to do right now.”

  Ayn glanced back at Tav, who’d busied himself with rummaging through his pile of wares while she and Bren talked.

  “Well,” Ayn said. “I was talking about new equipment commissions with Tav. A few days could get us upgraded gear.”

  “It looks like you’re already upgraded.”

  Ayn had switched to the Desert Scale Hauberk after the rest of the party had left. The entire thing, as its name suggested, was made of layered sand-colored scales. It gave her a reptilian look she kind of liked.

  “Just my chest piece,” Ayn said. “That doesn’t help any of you. What’s the point of gathering crafting materials if we don’t use them?”

  “So, make the commissions, then we Crawl.”

  “And then get new materials and commissions?”

  “We’d only be a little behind.”

  Which would become a lot behind in a matter of days, Ayn thought, but it was clear Bren had dug in his heels. She appreciated his dedication to winning Moira’s hand, but Ayn barely knew the woman, who, as far as she knew, spent most of her time holed up inside the Crafting Guild. She did know Kayara, and Kayara would kill her if she agreed to dive back into the Dungeon.

  “Have you talked to Sheyric and Kayara about this?” she asked.

  The way Bren’s face fell told her all she needed to know. “I figured since you’re the leader—”

  “I still need a party. Look, I’m about done here, and we agreed to meet up in front of the Crawler’s Guild, right? You can make your case there.”

  Bren fidgeted all the way.

  Kayara, Baatar, and Sheyric were waiting for them outside. They’d agreed to meet up at the Guild but go their separate ways to rest after discussing what they’d be doing next. Seeing as how Kayara was already scowling at the ground and tapping her foot, Ayn almost turned around.

  For better or for worse, Kayara looked up, her scowl reverting to the sour look she’d kept most of floor ten. “The jerks at the market won’t even deal with us anymore.”

  Ah. Great. The number of vendors willing to haggle with Ayn’s party members had never been huge, but every time they closed the gap between them and Arlen, that number had got smaller. Kayara really wasn’t going to like what Bren had to say.

  Ayn nudged Bren. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

  Kayara’s eyes narrowed. “About what?”

  It took Ayn a moment to reply. The tension they’d had on floor ten seemed to have dissipated quite a bit. She was doubly glad she’d stopped Bren from sharing his idea.

  “Nothing much,” Ayn said. “We should focus on getting supplies first.”

  “Well, thankfully, that pile of mana and health potions we got from the ship will carry us for a bit, and I assume Tav can craft new armor for us still?”

  “Yes. Chitin’s good for medium armor. We’ll have to hope we find some skins or plant fibers or something on the next floor, though.”

  “Right. We won’t have to worry about that for a few days at least. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get cloth materials from our next set of Rebirth quests.”

  “Which won’t happen for a few days,” Bren said, irritation clear in his voice.

  “Yes….” Kayara’s scowl returned.

  “Arlen’s still ahead of us, and he already has his next run scheduled.”

  Ayn’s stomach dropped as Kayara’s face darkened.

  “Do not suggest what I think you’re going to suggest,” Kayara said.

  Bren shook his head. “You said we have plenty of potions.”

  “Ayn!”

  Ayn panicked, her brain going blank when Kayara called her name.

  Sheyric saved her from having to reply by bolting around the Crawler’s Guild. She followed, more out of the desperate need to get out from under Bren and Kayara’s glares than anything else. It didn’t even occur to her how odd it was that Sheyric had bolted until he rounded the bend toward the Dungeon’s portal, took one glance behind him, then ran through.

  Ayn looked around in a panic, trying to find something that made sense. Kayara and Bren stood not far away with shocked expressions on their faces. Bren’s desire to push was one thing, but to just dive in without the rest of the party’s okay was not just taboo, but also a good way to die.

  Bren’s shock wore off first. He dove into the portal without further discussion. He’d been blocking a fifth person from view, one who stood just at the edge of the bend between the Guild and the Dungeon. It could have easily been a townsperson or a Crawler curious about all the drama, except they looked exactly like Sheyric.