Week 16

  The female mage advanced on Tanith, preparing an Ice containment spell. A sadistic smile flickered across her lips. “I’ll try to make this as painless as possible.”

  ***

  Tanith’s voice was barely a whisper. “You underestimate me.”

  She concentrated her mana in two fingers and spoke: “Fungua.”

  There was a sound like a match being struck, and a hole opened in the air—a perfect, thirty-centimeter-wide sphere of absolute black, ringed with a corona of white-hot fire. It appeared directly between Tanith and her captors, and for a split second, nothing happened.

  Then everything happened at once.

  The vortex howled, a sucking, centrifugal force yanking both mages off their feet and pinning them to the edges of the event horizon. Their robes ignited, insignia curling into ash. The man’s tablet vaporized, the runes sparking and sputtering as they were consumed. The woman screamed, from rage as much as fear.

  Callie shielded her eyes.

  After three seconds, the vortex snapped shut with a thunderclap, flinging the mages across the clinic like ragdolls. They landed in a heap near the herb shelf, scorched and smoking.

  Tanith, now released from her magical restraints, dusted off her clothes.

  The man struggled to his feet, half his beard missing, and spat a curse in a language Callie didn’t recognize.

  “We will report your insubordination,” he said, voice trembling with humiliation.

  The mages staggered to the door, tripping over the waiting bench and knocking several of Briar’s plants to the ground. Ember, who had been hiding under the exam table, padded over and added a warning growl for good measure.

  When the door finally slammed behind them, the room exhaled.

  Briar ran to Tanith, steadying her. “Are you okay?”

  Tanith didn’t answer immediately, so she helped Tanith to the couch, where she slumped. Callie took her pulse and did a quick once over out of habit.

  “Level Thirty-Five?” Callie asked quietly. She’d written this capacity for rage into Tanith’s bones, but she’d never expected to see it unleashed.

  Tanith nodded. “It’s called The Maw of Nyx in Esharran. Something new I’ve acquired since you healed Nüba.” Tanith sighed. “What now?”

  “Now?” Callie said, looking around at the scorched walls, the battered plants, the shattered sense of security. “Now we tidy up, and then we decide what to have for supper.”

  Briar grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

  Outside, the alley was already filling with whispers about the fire. Inside, the three of them worked silently.

  ***

  The Adventurer’s Guild of Chang’An was not what Callie expected.

  She’d pictured grand columns, marble floors, and walls hung with epic banners, the whole building humming with the potential energy of a city ready to repel monster incursions at a moment’s notice.

  In reality, it resembled a glorified tea house, if the tea house had been overrun by heavily armed mercenaries, shrieking messenger pigeons, and distinct smell of alcohol and vomit.

  The ground floor was dominated by three enormous notice boards, each covered in a blizzard of quest postings, wanted posters, and official edicts in at least five languages. The walls were lined with benches, most of which were already claimed by parties in various stages of planning, arguing, or napping.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Briar whistled, low and unimpressed. “Place looks like a cross between a market and an open air toilet.”

  Together, they made their way to the registration counter, a battered desk manned by a woman with lacquer-black hair and the deep eye-bags of someone who’d been doing overtime since the last monster crisis. She looked up as they approached and eyed Briar with practiced skepticism.

  “Name?” she barked.

  “Briar. Just Briar.” She hesitated, then added, “Ranger-Gatherer, Level 36.”

  “Level 36, huh?” The woman sniffed and cast a disbelieving glance over Briar. “We’ll be the judge of that. Test station’s down the hall, first left. Prove you can hit all five targets in sequence and we’ll fast-track the paperwork. We have no truck with those crystal ball level-reading thingies, so don’t bother protesting.”

  Briar flashed a thumbs-up and darted away, leaving Callie to follow at a more sedate pace.

  The testing range was a narrow corridor lined with padded mats, the walls gouged and scorched from years of over-enthusiastic demonstration. At the far end, five targets stood in a staggered row, each smaller and more distant than the last.

  Briar set her feet, drew a handful of blunt-tipped arrows, and waited for the signal.

  “Whenever you’re ready, rookie,” called the range officer, a broad-shouldered woman whose left arm was a dwarven mechanical wonder made entirely of steel and runes.

  Briar inhaled. Her first arrow thudded into the largest target, dead center. The second zipped into the next one, a touch high but still well inside the mark. By the fourth shot, she’d found her rhythm, the arrows moving so fast that Callie couldn’t see them leave the bow.

  On the fifth and final shot, Briar hesitated, squinting down the shaft. The target was no larger than a walnut at this distance, set at an awkward angle. She adjusted, exhaled, and let fly. It struck dead center.

  The range officer crossed her arms and commanded: “Again. And faster.”

  Now that she had her range and bearings, Briar used only three arrows—the first arrow ricocheting off the first target on to the second, the third on to the fourth, and the third arrow finding the fifth target with nary any hesitation.

  The range officer let out a low whistle. “Not regulation, but I’ll allow it.”

  Briar did a little victory jig, then turned to Callie, cheeks flushed with pride.

  Callie gave a slow clap. “When did you get so good at the whole bow and arrow thing?”

  Briar shrugged, grinning. “I’ve always dabbled but since you cured me back in Apsu, everything has got so much easier. It’s like the more I practice, the better I get. And since you treated the Bai Ze and Nüba, I’ve had a ton of points to put into my stats. That’s never happened before. Ever.”

  ***

  Back at the registration desk, the woman took one look at the signed slip and started filling out forms at a breakneck pace. “Welcome to the Chang’An Guild, Ranger Briar. You’re now eligible for missions up to C Class and may recruit up to two companions for party quests.”

  She slid a packet of paperwork and a brass token across the desk. “You’ve been flagged for White Plateau Watch duty. It’s a proving ground for newcomers. See within for details. Next!”

  Briar took the token reverently, then glanced at Callie. “Want to see the best part?”

  They ducked into an alcove by the stairwell, where Briar produced her blue ledger with her Ranger-Gatherer Skill Tree.

  “At Level 30, I got to choose a Track. Went with Thornwarden, since it’s all about controlled lethality and precision strikes.” She tapped the relevant branch, which was densely annotated in her loopy script.

  Level 35

  Active: Mercy’s Edge – Strike with blunted force; if target is below 20% HP, automatically knock out instead of killing.

  Passive: Thorn Stance Unlocked – Can now enter Thorn Stance; enables lethal versions of certain abilities and +10% crit chance.

  Callie examined the diagram, an uneasy pride threading through her. “That’s… a little disturbing, but impressive.”

  Briar grinned, unabashed. “Thought you’d say that.”

  She pointed to another icon, this one shaped like a leaf with serrated edges. “With the right reagents and ingredients, I can also craft toxins, paralytics, incendiaries for my arrows.”

  Callie laughed. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

  Briar leaned in, voice dropping. “Listen. After what happened at Apsu, I don’t want to be caught off guard again. If I’m the best archer in the city, nobody’s going to treat me like an expendable gatherer. And I can keep you and Tanith safe. That’s the whole point.”

  Callie considered this, then nodded. “Just don’t get so good that you leave us behind.”

  A shadow loomed at the entrance; the Cinder-Fury Warg, Ember, padding in with a careful dignity. He’d grown since their last adventure, now standing nearly chest-high to Callie. His fur smoldered with a deeper red, eyes bright as live coals.

  Briar called him over, then knelt to scratch him behind the ears. “See? Even the world’s most stubborn warg recognizes a pack leader when he sees one.”

  Ember made a sound halfway between a purr and a snort, then leaned into Briar’s touch.

  Callie found herself smiling as they finished the last of the paperwork.

  The old cynicism tapped her on the shoulder and whispered something into her ear, but she brushed it aside and concentrated on the happiness of her best friend.