Chương 12: Home Team

"Not that I don't want you here, but… why'd you ask to come with me, Orville?" Seven days had passed since I joined the hunter's guild, and most days had gone similarly to the first. We woke up early, had a light breakfast, got our asses kicked, got chewed out by Remus, endured a couple of nasty comments from Penelope, ate lunch, got our asses kicked again… it was pretty routine at this point. Except for the whole 'lunch' thing.

I can't believe we're expected to eat three times every day, possibly even more if the day was a long one! Utter insanity. It kind of pisses me off. I asked why hunters were expected to eat so much, and everyone looked at me like I was crazy. At least I didn't have to stay in the guild hall all day every day. I was worried that I would, but thankfully I still have a bit of time to go around town. I even got paid a little bit during the training, "to live off of."

Apparently it was hardly anything according to Norah, but I immediately went and asked the secretary people if I could see my daily pay. When the coins plopped in my hands, I could hardly even believe it. This could be split twelve ways! How was this "hardly anything???" Every day after that, I collected my pay and went to buy food as soon as we got our first break. Not for me, since the guild had plenty, but for the shack. Just simple, cheap stuff; quantity over quality.

But unless the day was especially short, I had just enough to buy a shitty street rat meal for everyone.

"Remus has been on my ass to spend time with people during my breaks," Orville eventually answers, staring around. The two of us were wandering the stalls, heading deeper and deeper into the bad parts of the city so I could find a vendor who actually sold food at a reasonable price. I didn't need any of that fancy stuff that had actual flavor, after all. I'm just here to keep people alive.

"And you chose me? You never talk to me." He stares down at me for a while.

"... Yeah," he eventually says.

"You don't really talk to me either. It's why I picked you." I nod. That made sense. So many of the others would talk about nothing well past there being nothing left to talk about. Yap yap yap, talking to talk. Orville must not like it either. I don't have much reason to talk to the guy, so I tend to not. He wasn't particularly impressive or strong, but he did well enough during practice and like… what else do I need from him? I had to talk with Norah a lot about positioning and coordinating.

I had to talk to Bently because he never paid attention beyond whatever enemy was in front of him. I had to talk to Penelope because half the time she just wouldn't do anything unless someone told her to. Orville, meanwhile, shot the targets that needed to be shot. I didn't need to manage him at all, and outside of practice I barely ran into him. He was always either out practicing or sitting in his room. Eventually, I find someone grody enough to serve shit food at a decent price, and I load my arms full.

Orville offers to help carry some of it, which I gladly take him up on. From there, I lead him through the back alleys, twisting further and further into the figurative underbelly of Skyhope. Even I now notice the marked decrease in the quality of my surroundings. It was odd feeling so comfortable here, now that I looked so very, very out of place. I drew eyes, eyes that a starving street rat would quickly scamper out of sight from. I had to meet those eyes now, lest I be seen as a target.

"Vita," Orville eventually comments, "are you sure we're in the right place? There are a lot of… criminals here."

"Not all homeless people are criminals," I grumble. Orville glances back to an alley entrance we just passed, where a group of five men had been kicking the shit out someone.

"Oh. Well. Yeah, those guys were criminals," I admit.

"Is this safe?" he asked.

"No, not really," I tell him.

"Did you bring your bow?"

"... No. I did not think I would need it."

"That sucks." Either because or in spite of my weapons and armor, however, we make it to the shack unaccosted. I knock on the door, which falls over.

"Oops," I murmur.

"VITA!" Excited cheers erupt from within the shack and in moments I'm swarmed by kids nearly trampling each other for a chance to hug my waist. Laughing, I almost get knocked to the ground by the unstoppable force of starving children. I hand out the food as fairly as I can manage, keenly aware of how horribly, horribly thin they all were. Did I really look like that only a month ago…? I'm still dangerously thin, but a bit of muscle was filling out my frame. The difference was staggering, and it tore at my heart.

"Well hey there, kiddo." I looked up, grinning as Rowan stepped over the tide of children and pulled me in for a hug.

"M'not a kiddo," I answer automatically, squeezing him tightly back.

"How've things been going?"

"Better, thanks to you. Who's this? Got a boyfriend already?" He tilts his head towards Orville, causing me to turn red.

"No! Rowan, don't be gross! This is Orville, my team's shooty guy."

"Hmm?" Orville murmurs, looking up and just barely blinking away an expression of mute horror.

"Oh. Um. Yes. It's… nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise, 'shooty guy,'" Rowan answers, giving Orville a friendly handshake.

"Um, she means I'm the archer," Orville says, his eyes flicking back to the twelve munching kids every so once in a while.

"... Did Vita grow up here?"

"Well, she was with us for a bit over a year now," Rowan answered.

"What she was doing before that is her business."

"It was just more of this, but worse," I answer.

"It's really not that exciting."

"... Worse?" Orville mutters, but I don't bother to answer him. It couldn't be that hard to imagine. Just keep taking things away.

"So, Vita, I was actually hoping to talk to you privately for a bit…?" Rowan prompts.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, sure." I turn to the kids.

"None of you steal anything from Orville or I'll kick your asses, okay?" A chorus of giggles and "awws" was the only answer I needed. I step into the shack with Rowan, moving out of sight and letting him put up a silence bubble around the both of us.

"The Templars want me to spy on the Broken Drakens," he said flatly.

"Oh," I murmured.

"Well… shit."

"Yeah, 'oh shit' is right. I don't know how they found out my connections. Honestly, I half-expect they don't know and they're bluffing me out. The debt we owe the Drakens… well, it mostly exists because their boss wants Lyn and I to work for them on more dangerous jobs. Trained mages are worth their weight in metal in this part of the city, and Lyn is… Lyn. I didn't think it was worth the risk, but now the Templars want me to take that offer, join the gang, and report back to them." I scowl.

"Do you even have the option to say no?"

"I don't know," he answers.

"Maybe. But they're Templars. They could make my life hell in all sorts of non-aggressive ways if they felt like it, and they probably will. The guy they keep sending is nice and all, but I'm not dumb enough to think he's actually making the decisions. It's mostly tempting because… well, they're offering a lot." I grab him and hug him again.

"... Whatever you decide, I'll help however I can. I think our first hunt is going to be in another week or two, but I'll be around until then."

"Yeah," he says, patting my head absentmindedly.

"Thanks, Vita. I'm just really not sure what to do. It's so dangerous... but there's danger in denying the Templars as well."

"Is there anything working for the Templars will get us besides money? Because I can handle money."

"... There's not a lot," Rowan says, scowling.

"The Templars probably could give all the kids a good life, but I'm not exactly very useful as a spy if I suddenly and suspiciously start getting support from a third party. The Broken Drakens are the ones renting us this shack, so they're obviously going to notice if the kids move out. It's just..."

"... Who do we fear more," I finish for him.

"The Templars or the Broken Drakens." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Not quite," Rowan says.

"I mean, the answer to that is the Templars. The Templars are far more dangerous. But their wrath if I scorn them is probably just going to be repeatedly inconveniencing me, not dragging me into an alley and beating me to death."

"So what's the issue?"

"I don't like the Templars. I'm afraid of the Templars. But I hate the Broken Drakens. I just want to fuck them over to say I did." I smile a little.

"No risk, no reward, right? As long as you promise not to die." He laughs.

"Yeah. Okay. I promise, Vita." I nod. There's only one more thing to say, really.

"Where's Lyn? What does she think of this?"

"Out on a job. She's hesitant, obviously," he answers.

"Don't tell her I told you, but she fears the Drakens almost as much as I hate 'em. There are a lot of powerful people in their ranks, even by Lyn's standards... and of course, if they find out we're crossing them, the kids lose everything. Maybe everything-everything. They call it a debt, but it's no secret that the real thing they're holding over us is the kids."

"Oh," I say.

"Yeah," Rowan answers.

"But... damn, Vita. You're growing so much. When we look at you, we can't help but want all the kids to have that kind of chance. You know?"

"Yeah," I agree.

"The hunter's guild is like a whole different world, really."

"Well, you'd better get back to your world, then." Rowan claps me on the arm and ends the silence bubble, the both of us exiting the shack together. The children were climbing all over Orville, asking all sorts of questions about the hunter's guild.

"Okay, kiddos, I gotta go back," I say smugly, savoring my ability to use the word.

"Orville, check your pockets and let's go." I start the trudge back, making sure to keep my eyes and my soul sense as peeled as potatoes. The walk itself was good training: I had to do my best to note every detail of the street as I went. I couldn't miss anything. I had to think of the whole world like Rowan's cup games: every detail is essential, and yet also exists to distract me from every other essential detail in the process.

"We laughed, you know," Orville says. I almost got annoyed when Orville broke my concentration... but no, I had to be able to watch and talk anyway. This was better practice.

"Laughed?" I asked.

"When Bently told us how you took all that food and ran off. Even Penelope snorted a bit. We all thought it was so silly."

"Oh," I said.

"Yeah. Sorry, I guess. I didn't know."

"It's okay." The two of us were silent again for a while. I had to take a fairly roundabout route through the alleyways in order to avoid running into anyone else. It was... annoyingly difficult, what with so many people going the same way we were.

"Are you really sixteen?" Orville asks.

"Penelope insists you can't be."

"Penelope can go fuck herself," I respond automatically, more annoyed that she's still spreading the lie than I probably should be.

"As far as I know, yes. I am." He nods.

"Okay. Sorry I doubted you. Seeing that... makes things make a lot more sense, I guess." I nod back, focusing on the alleyways again. Something was bothering me. The last few odd turns we made were matched by another group of two. No sense being stupid enough to assume a coincidence.

"I think we're being followed," I warn. Orville raises an eyebrow.

"Followed? By who?"

"I dunno. Two people." One of the souls was a velvety texture, soft and inviting... yet awful to feel at, since it tasted like oil. The other was just grease; a translucent tan that felt slippery yet likely to stick to everything.

"Hmm. Well, I don't have my bow, but I can still cast. What do you want to do, Vita?"

"We should probably try to shake them off. I don't like how they taste." Orville gives me a concerned look.

"What?"

"Uh, I mean, to my power," I murmur.

"One guy's oily and the other guy's greasy. And not like cooked meat. It's gross. This way." I dip down an alleyway. No amount of random turns would shake them off of us; they're a couple turns behind and following anyway. The pair is tracking us somehow, maybe with a power like mine. The alleyways are mostly devoid of people, and while we might be able to reach a crowded street before they catch us, this was still the bad part of town. It would be a while. Still, I have an idea that might get them off our butts.

"Boost me over this wall," I order, heading into an alley just barely short enough to scale.

"... How come you don't boost me over," Orville grumbles.

"I'm lighter than you! Come on, just do it!" He helps me on top of the divider, a simple clay wall cutting the alleyway off of what was technically private property. Up top, I turn around to reach down and help Orville up as well, legs dangling over the other side. I pull him up just barely in time to spot Frigs and Squigs walking into view. Those assassin guys? Really? Why were they following us?

"Get down," I whisper to Orville.

"What?" he asks. Rolling my eyes, I push him over the wall, putting a finger to my lips as he looks up to protest. I didn't know what these two murderers wanted, but there was no sense letting them get a good look at my friend. Lying on my stomach, I was uncomfortably doubled over, feet and arms each dangling on one side of the solid clay wall. It was more than a little bit of an award position to look down at people from. I made an effort not to glower as Squigs and Frigs approached.

I suppose they're not bad as murderers go; they gave me some tasty food and let me pick up a tasty soul, after all. Still, it was good to be cautious.

"Well, well! If it isn't little Vita!" Squigs calls out, raising his arms to the sides like he was inviting a hug.

"You didn't tell us you were one of Lyn's brats!"

"You didn't ask!" I called back.

"It's not a secret or anything!"

"We're just surprised," Frigs replies smoothly.

"We know Lyn quite well. We're co-workers, even. Her employer hires us from time to time." The shorter man, Frigs, had the velvety soul, and was much better at acting proper and polite than his partner... though he still creeped me out.

"Well wishes to you both, then," I say down to them.

"Why are you following me?"

"We're just pleasantly surprised!" Squigs says, grinning.

"You're looking so much better than the last time we saw you, it's like you're not even the same person! Doing well for yourself, aren't you, Vita?"

"Quite well indeed," Frigs agrees.

"One can't help but wonder if it's related to why Rowan's behind on payments." I shrug, an awkward and slightly painful gesture while doubled over a wall.

"Sorry pals, I used all my money on food. Are you just here to be all threatening or is there something you want?" Squigs scowls at me, but Frigs busts into boisterous laughter.

"Squigs, I'm telling you! I like this girl! We should have brought her with us."

"What we want is to make sure that you're the 'investment' your daddy says you are, rather than some arrogant kid who's just going to piss all her money away."

"Got it," I say.

"Consider it noted. I'll save some cash for your boss. It's just not going to be a lot until I start killing monsters."

"Fuckin' hell," Squigs curses.

"Monsters? You're a hunter? Your get rich quick scheme is to die? You know they stopped giving out care packages to relatives after you bite it, right?"

"I'm not so sure, Squigs!" Frigs laughs.

"I'd be willing to bet on her. A hunter is a noble profession, and I think it's an especially great fit for someone like her."

"... Someone like me?" I ask slowly. He smiles.

"A killer, of course. You have the ruthlessness to survive. When is your first hunt, Vita?" I scowl at him.

"... I'd be surprised if it was more than two weeks from now, but I don't control that."

"Three weeks, then," he says.

"Show that you're a wise investment by then, Vita." My scowl deepens.

"Okay," I say.

"Also, Rowan's not my dad." I hop off the wall on the other side from the pair of killers, landing next to Orville. It wouldn't actually stop them from following us, I bet, but they didn't move to do so. That was a relief, at least. Orville opened his mouth to say something, but I shushed him again, moving quickly away from Squigs and Frigs. I kept mental track of them all the way until they left my detection radius, and only then did I start to relax a little.

"... Okay," I said.

"Now you can talk."

"Are you in debt to the mob?" he hissed.

"Technically no," I say.

"Buuuut basically yeah. More like they're making me responsible for someone else's debt because they can and might stab someone I like if I don't help pay it." He gives me a funny look.

"You are weirdly nonchalant about this," he says. I shrug.

"It's not that big of a deal. I was planning to help pay it anyway, they didn't need to threaten me over it."

"But they did. Shouldn't you be worried?" I frown, thinking about their soul sizes. Not that much bigger than mine.

"... I might be able to take them." He stares at me for a bit as we walk.

"They called you a killer. Have you killed before?"

"Yeah."

"How many?"

"One," I lie.

"Unless you count rats. What's way more common is how many I see die."

"How many would that be?" I think about that for a while as the path finally breaks out into busy streets, the city rapidly becoming more inviting as we leave my part of town.

"... Dunno. Hundreds," I admit.

"Sometimes you just hunker down somewhere for the night and the people next to you never wake up. Sometimes people get sick and take everyone they know with 'em when they go. Sometimes you're just walking down the street and a man stabs another down the alleyway. It happens all the time, really." Orville nods slowly.

"... Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. I shrug. I do want to talk about it, actually, but I probably shouldn't. Grig was a secret I'd probably have to take to my grave.

"Shit's rough where I grew up," I say instead.

"I mean, I wasn't joking when I asked you guys why hunters ate so much. I didn't know most people ate three times a day. I just…" I trail off, not sure how to continue.

"... It's honestly a little scary to think that your place is in the same city as all the stuff I'm used to," Orville says quietly.

"No one should have to live like that."

"Well, feel free to give my family as much money and food as you want," I grumble.

"Just not too much food. I've seen people die from getting a sudden windfall and not knowing when to stop eating."

"... Do you mind if I join you tomorrow as well?" he asks. I stare at him for a while, watching him fidget.

"Just remember to bring your bow next time."