“I can. My word on it,” I say. “But you know what we want in return.”
“Expensive.”
“But for your Clan, this would be quite the win, would it not? After all, bringing a new scent-based Class to the Kinanti…”
“We’ll need a serf contract for seven years. System-registered.”
“No,” I flat-out refuse. “Work contract for five years. System-registered, based off you fulfilling your bargain. In turn, we’ll provide a System-registered proof of Class.”
“Ten years.”
“Agreed.”
“Transport costs?” the Kinanti asks, its voice low and husky.
I note it snuffling more, as if trying to ascertain my identity via smell. Good luck with that. I have a spell and an enchantment both killing my scent for just this reason.
“We can handle it,” I say. “But you’ll pay going rates for their work. And take care of their accommodations and safety. Along with their family.”
“Of course. Standard contract for Artisans. But this is an Advanced, yes?”
“Yes. By the time the vote is completed, you’ll get your Advanced Class Perfumer.”
The creature lets out a trill, a snort, then stands. “Don’t contact me again until the documents are ready.”
I don’t look at him as he stalks off, but I do borrow Ali’s field of vision to note his bouncing step. It’s only when he’s gone, when I’ve finished reading the threads from Society’s Web and the changes in his demeanor, that I speak.
“What do you think?”
“He’ll do it. Now, come on. Next!”
I groan but stand, heading out. We’ll have to contact Lana to get this done, but thankfully, we know a Basic Classer who will jump at the chance. All we have to do is boost him through his Levels, which means VIP access to our dungeons and a Leveling team.
A small price to pay for an abstentation.
Now, if only the rest of our deals are this easy.
***
Underground. This is the galactic equivalent of a sewer line, but it’s a lot cleaner and less smelly since everything is actually contained within sealed effluent lines. The maintenance room we stand in is in a confluence of such maintenance shafts, giving us more room to work within. Even if it is big, the presence of a half dozen bodyguards crowds out the room. Especially when a pair of them are sapient trolls.
“Explain again this Skill of yours,” the older Movana standing before me mutters.
He’s not the target, of course. It’s the young Movana girl behind him, all of twenty-three. She’s already two-thirds of the way through her Basic Class thanks to her banked experience and being dragged through dungeons. But that won’t get her a good Class, especially since she lacks any good Titles.
Thus, this meeting.
“I can layer the Skill multiple times, depending on wording and intent,” I say. I know this to be true, in a way that even knowledge and use of the Skill wouldn’t have offered without significantly more experimenting, thanks to my new Class. “But it’ll do damage.”
“How much?”
I grunt, running the math in my head and inform him.
He winces and shakes his head. “Very high.”
“Yes. But that also means it’ll increase her chance of getting the Prestige Class, right? The harder it is to break, the more damage she takes, the better the Class.”
“Expensive to get them the right enchantments,” her overseer says, crossing his arms. “And you still haven’t mentioned the name of the Skill. We need to ascertain it doesn’t overlap with others.”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
I point over the girl’s head while she ducks her head and pouts. There’s a sullenness to her actions, to the way she stands that makes my heart ache. I understand her standing, her importance to the family is guiding the actions here. Favors for favors. She has no choice in this, in the oaths and the bindings and, yes, the pain required to break those bindings.
But as much as I want to help her, I know I can’t. Because I can’t fix every problem I come across, and because she has the tools to fix it herself. All she has to do is walk away. From a life of comfort and security.
This isn’t my fight. And my help would probably be less than desired.
“Conditions. I can see them. Nothing special,” I say. “And no conflicts. You barely have a half dozen running on her right now, and only one other Master Class.”
“I broke the rest,” she snaps, crossing her arms. “And I can break yours. I’ve done worst. It’s just damage.” Her voice drips with derision.
I make note to perhaps find something particularly inventive as my binding. “Now, about our payment…”
The overseer smiles, turning to me as I brightly begin the negotiations.
***
“Trap?”
“Trap,” Ali confirms.
I almost sigh and give away the game as we follow the man into the courtyard. The building is reinforced, the sky a false projection—even if it does go up at least five stories. The entire courtyard in a building thing is very Irvina, what with the need for space and yet the illusion of control. When one has money, alterations to the internal portions of a building are simple enough. And our current guest has money. The courtyard is another example of them showing it off.
It also creates a good killing ground, but we don’t talk about such things.
“I’m surprised you contacted us. Our interactions with Ambassador Ward and Earth have been less than pleasant before,” the speaker says, furry hands crossed behind his back. The Zarrie—gnoll-like creatures—smiles widely. “In fact, there are a number of blood promises bound around some of your people’s heroes.”
“Representatives,” I say. “And not my people. The humans.”
“Of course, of course,” the Zarrie says, bobbing his head. “I’m grateful you were willing to meet us here. Few would be so trusting.”
“It’s hard to be, when betrayal seems to be a common coin in the realm,” I say. “But I’ve always felt it better to give trust when you can.”
“Oh, for certain. It’s a very honorable viewpoint,” the speaker says. He turns around now, having put us in the middle of the courtyard.
In my minimap, Ali floods the information screen with dots. Lots of dots, many of them Advanced Classers. I don’t see many Master Classers, though I’m not surprised. Not only are Master Classers rarer, they’re also expensive to hire and not something you expect to throw together in a few hours.
“I’ve always felt that. And when someone does betray you, you just have to make sure they don’t do it again.” I wonder if the warning will help, but I doubt it.
“There is no true betrayal though, when one is enemies already,” the speaker replies, smiling wide. “Don’t you think so, Redeemer?”
I keep smiling even as he uses my Title. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of.”
“That enchantment you’re using is very good. We can’t pierce it, not at all. But there is no one else we can think of who would dare contact us. Not so blatantly, not so soon. And with such an obvious companion.” He nods to where Ali hangs over my shoulder.
Ali’s shifted his form again, looking like a floating tree trunk, and is supposed to be invisible since he’s only partially dimensionally shifted in.
I raise an eyebrow, still trying to play it cool. But I sense the Mana fluctuations above me as the ambushers buff themselves and charge up their attacks. “Again, no idea what you’re talking about.”
Ali flies upward and to the side, tiny hands shifting as he gets ready to layer Skills and his ability to protect me. A quick flash of information over our communication channel indicates that he’s being tracked by a couple of our ambushers, putting to rest the question of the viability of his invisibility. They definitely can track him.
“Now, I came here with an offer. You wanted some Titles that weren’t available otherwise, all human-centric. I know how to get them for you.” I open my hands sideways, smiling. “But it’ll cost you.”