The gigantic lob folded his massive arms, as he was still salty about that defeat. “War is not arena.”
Our big guy might have been ready to fight to the death rather than bend the knee, but I knew our students wouldn’t be nearly so keen on dying pointlessly. “If we threw down against the Latrocinium, it wouldn’t be a war. I know the trade tongue isn’t your strength, but the wordwarimplies there being a fight. This would be more like us getting massacred a hundred to one, and our survivors—in the unlikely event there are any—getting run out of town.”
Krachma shrugged. His peculiar sense of honor was probably fine with that kind of futile noble gesture.
“The other option is to leave,” Rade suggested. “We pack our things and vanish into the night.”
“You could. That’s probably the smart thing to do. We’re getting sent on a dangerous task by a very dangerous man. I wouldn’t blame anybody for having the sense to get out while they can. But I vowed to become a mage, and after getting rejected by every prick in the Collegium, by some miracle, we found a way to make it on our own. I’ve got my whole family counting on me to buy their freedom, and I’ve worked too hard to turn back now. I’m staying.”
Azarin nodded along as I said that. She’d left her realm because she’d angered her family and was too proud to go back as a failure. “I’m with Oz. I’ll stick around. Weathering storms is what my people do best.”
“Isn’t your patron saint the one who watches over fools who make terrible decisions?” Rade asked rhetorically.
“That is among Naanwalla’s duties to the gods, only I don’t need the gods to tell me it’s wrong to abandon my friends. I’ve put in too much work to hang it up now.”
Me and Azarin had an odd relationship. She could be unpredictable as the wind. I liked her. I think she really liked me. She’d saved my life once, I’d repaid the favor. We’d even messed around a bit. But I was under no delusion she was sticking around just for me. Flighty as Azarin could be at times, she was adamant about becoming a real wizard, and wasn’t going to return to her beloved Stormwolk until she could do so with pride, showing up everybody who’d ever doubted her.
Rade shrugged. “Let the record show that the follower of the saint ofbad choicessees no problem with this plan.”
“It’s not so much a plan as an ultimatum,” I said. “Carcalla’s given us five days to clean the place out and bring him whatever treasure we find. We split that evenly, except for one thing.There’s rumors of a particular item hidden there that he’s interested in. He told me it would look like a lamp.”
Azarin perked up at that. “Like the kind you rub and a genie comes out and grants you wishes?”
“Naw, more like a really big light charm.”
“Well, that’s boring… Why risk our lives for something that mundane? And how does he know it’s still there? It could’ve been looted long ago.”
Those were good questions, but it turned out that vicious crime lords weren’t exactly forthcoming about their intelligence. “Carcalla said if we made it all the way to the lowest chamber, there’d be a secret door that’s hard to spot, but he gave me what’s supposed to be the magic password to open it. The good stuff should be undisturbed in there.”
The relatively pretty serving girls brought our drinks out. They were usually happy to flirt with Rade, who loved putting on airs as the dashing duelist, but since Trax was present, they just dropped the mugs on the table and retreated as fast as possible. Well,wegot mugs. Trax got a bucket of whatever raw viscera was left over in the kitchen. We didn’t get charged for that bucket either. Trax’s dinner was always on the house, because the locals believed a Squalo with a full belly would remain mellow, while a hungry Squalo was nothing but trouble.
“Thank you, ladies.” Rade seemed sad to see the girls go. “Ah, as stalwart a companion as Trax may be, his savage demeanor tends to frighten off the local girls.”
“You are welcome,”Trax sent obliviously as he sniffed his bloody dinner. “Females will steal your food.”
“Enjoy the drinks, because this is the last of our budget. After this, it’s back to scrounging.” It wasn’t like we had official positions in this half-assed outfit, but I was nominally our treasurer, and that purse was empty. “So where do we all stand on our latest crisis?”
“I believe that’s two for working with Carcalla.” Rade waved one corpse-pale hand toward me and Azarin. Then at Krachma. “One vote for provoking an unwinnable war, I think.”
“Krachma cares not,” Krachma muttered. “Present Krachma enemy to kill. It will die.”
“Splendid.” I honestly believed Krachma to be a decent sort, but from what I’d heard, his people mostly survived by getting hired out as mercenaries, and since none of us knew where Krachma’s many rocky scars had come from, he’d probably seen some shit.
“What do you think, Mr. Bloodtrail?” Rade asked.
Trax was busy pouring the contents of the slop bucket into his maw and chomping noisily. Bits were flying everywhere. It was scaring the other customers. “Apologies, Carnavon. This gelatinous pig snout is delicious. What were you discussing?”
Since nobody else could understand him, I simplified things. “Trax says he’s voting with me and Azarin.”
“I do not know what is happening, but this sounds acceptable to me.”
“The Squalo always agrees with you. Very well. It is decided. Though my vote is now meaningless, let the record show that Rade Tartaros, sword of the underworld, rightful heir of House Tartaros in exile, fears neither gangs nor cursed isles, and he shall fight for the honor of his academy, whether it be by gang war or adventuring.”
“If we had a secretary writing things down, then that would surely be recorded in the minutes.”
“Excellent.” Rade seemed rather pleased with that. “I know you’ve got a sour outlook on the concept of adventuring, my friend, but I for one am not opposed to it. Adventuring is a fine opportunity to gain wealth and glory.”
I should have known he would feel that way, because our deadlander was just as brash as the fools I’d guided to theirdoom. “Then let that same official record show that I think this is a terrible idea, except we’re stuck, and if we’re going to save the academy, I see no other choice. My recognizing this shitty reality doesn’t mean I like our predicament one bit… If we’re going to keep putting things on the record, I suppose we should elect a secretary to keep notes and make it official.”
