With our goal set, all that remained was to wait for midnight. Dinner came first, something none of us were keen to miss. Amelia least of all. Jerald was expected as well. So, I got myself decent and slid the blade beneath the floorboards and worked the timber back into place until it lay flat. Dinner would be complicated enough without explaining this thing.

  I lingered for a moment, breathing through the familiar sting in my limbs as it settled back into its usual rhythm. Unpleasant, but manageable.

  Downstairs, the house was already stirring with the quiet sounds of people winding down for the day.

  For once, fortune leaned our way. Jerald returned before full dark, boots thick with mud, shoulders tight with frustration. He barely glanced at the food before offering Doyle a brief nod of thanks. A few sharp words later, the hunting party was dismissed to the village taverns, and the search was called off for the night.

  We gathered around the table as the house settled in on itself, the fire popping low in the hearth. Amelia sat opposite me. There was more colour in her face now, more light in her eyes, though the faint swelling beneath them lingered, telling the rest of the story.

  “We had it cornered,” Jerald said, shaking his head. “We had the ground and the numbers. That wretched monster found a gap and took it.”

  “How did you manage to lose it then?” I asked.

  Jerald only grumbled in response.

  “The gap he is referring too was Nick…” Rob said.

  “Ah…”

  “What if you can’t find the bugger?” Rob asked.

  Doyle clicked his tongue.

  “I mean the troll,” Rob added quickly.

  “We’ll find him. For now, what matters is keeping you well clear of that young noble.”

  Rob’s face twisted into a scowl.

  “What, so you can stop me from slapping that guy upside the head?” he said.

  Jerald sighed, rubbing at his temples. “That’s exactly why… I am keeping you safe. That boy is far stronger than you, and you know it.”

  Rob grumbled under his breath. “Yeah, whatever. Take away his shiny trinkets and what’s he got left…”

  “A blessing in the fifth stage,” Jerald cut in. “Though if you had his so-called shiny trinkets, you would probably match him.”

  Doyle frowned. “And how did the young noble come by these expensive items in the first place?”

  Jerald’s expression tightened, irritation creeping back in. “That’s the real question, isn’t it? Every young noble this year seems to be carrying them now. I suppose the House of Lords found a treasure hoard or something.” He shook his head. “I thank the Old Ones you three don’t have to face those little snots in the trials.”

  “So, the new lords aren’t just receiving higher blessing and stages,” Doyle said slowly, “they’re carrying runed items as well. That doesn’t seem responsible.”

  “You’re telling me,” Jerald replied. “I’ve had no end of trouble with young nobles wandering into the barracks, looking for fights.” His gaze flicked to Rob. “There are plenty of Nicks about.”

  My stomach tightened at the thought.

  “I don’t think you’ll find one worse than Nick,” Rob said.

  Jerald snorted. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Some of the girls this year are just as vicious.”

  “As bad as Nick?” Rob muttered. “The kid had a real god complex.”

  Amelia shivered. It was subtle, almost easy to miss, but she leaned back all the same, as if the name itself needed space.

  Rob noticed and rested a hand on her shoulder. She nodded her thanks, small but genuine, as Jerald continued.

  “Anyway, you won’t need to see any more of him,” Jerald said. “I’m not dragging you along with the hunting party again.”

  “So, we miss out on a troll hunt because of that idiot,” Rob muttered.

  Jerald smirked and gave his hair a brief ruffle. “Not quite. The hunt picks up again in the morning and the Noble prat has Lordly lessons tomorrow. And… there’s no sense chasing a shape-shifting brute in the dark.”

  “Nice….” Rob said his smile returning.

  “Have the city guards been deployed?” Doyle asked.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “A few,” Jerald said. “They’re covering the fields where the beast was last seen. Still, I don’t think they understand what they’re dealing with. This isn’t some mindless Gnarble.”

  Doyle nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right. All we can hope is that it keeps out of sight for now.”

  “Even if it doesn’t,” Jerald said, “the guards will know what to do.”

  Doyle set a full stein of ale in front of him. Rob watched the froth crest the rim with open envy. Jerald wrapped his hand around the handle, sloshing foam across the table and sending Doyle into another quiet flurry with a cloth.

  “You lot had better train,” Jerald said, taking a long pull. “Train hard. Time has a way of slipping past when you are not looking.”

  “But do not force yourself,” Doyle added, his gaze flicking briefly to me.

  Dinner broke apart soon after. Jerald tugged his coat on, fingers stiff from the day, and headed for the door. He said he would meet the others at the tavern, already half gone, duty pulling him ahead of us as it always did. The firelight caught the lines at the edge of his eyes, deeper than I remembered.

  I raised a hand and called after him, “Try not to kill the prick.”

  He snorted, a rough sound, and waved without turning. “See you lot in the morn’.” Then he was gone, swallowed by the amber glow of the streetlamps.

  I lingered at the doorway longer than I meant to, watching his shape shrink into the night. His shoulders never quite relaxed, even as he walked away. I wondered how many fires he’d put out today before he’d even thought to check on us.

  He did that a lot. Showed up. Checked in. Moved on.

  I knew I wasn’t the centre of his world. Never had been. There were too many others depending on him for that. Still, the fact that he came at all meant something.

  I closed the door and headed upstairs, my pulse already beginning to quicken. A few more hours and our little excursion would begin. It was nothing Jerald or Doyle would approve of, but they had both said that we needed to train. According to Rob and Amelia, this was the fastest way.

  Once in my room, my gaze drifted to the floorboards where the black blade lay hidden. The thought of leaving it behind felt like closing a door I could no longer afford to ignore. Two days in this world and I had nothing to show for it. No progress. No edge. The only time I had felt anything close to strength was with that weapon in hand, and the thought of turning away from it now filled my chest with a tight, restless pressure. Yet, the idea of taking it with me scared the daylights out of me.

  Downstairs, the lights went out one by one. A moment later, a soft knock tapped four times against my door. I opened it to find Rob and Amelia waiting, already geared up. Small packs slung over their shoulders. Rob had retrieved my shield from below.

  “All right,” I said quietly as I fastened the scabbard to my hip. “Where are we going?”

  Rob glanced around my room and snorted. “Hey, your room’s bigger than mine.”

  “Mine too,” Amelia added, her voice light, though her eyes stayed sharp.

  “Oh. Right. You guys haven’t been in here before,” I said.

  I gave them a quick, awkward tour of the mostly empty room, though Rob seemed far more interested in the view.

  “See, I told you, Am,” Rob said, nodding with satisfaction. “His room backs right onto the hill.”

  “Fine. You were right,” Amelia replied.

  Rob grinned and turned to me. “For the past few weeks, we’ve had to sneak out the front door. Took bloody ages.” He crossed to the window and flipped the latch. “Now we can use your window whenever we like.”

  “Rob,” Amelia warned.

  “Obviously we’ll ask first,” he added quickly. “You know. Permission and all that.”

  I smiled. “As long as you don’t burst in while I’m changing.”

  They both laughed. Rob swung himself through the window and dropped onto the grass below, already energized. “Come on. We’ve got Spriggans to smash.”

  Armed and ready, I followed them out onto the grass as Rob started explaining.

  “I’ve been mapping the area for weeks,” he said quietly. “The troll’s been sighted northwest.” He pointed toward the distant farmland, barely visible beneath the moonlight. “But we’re going to the quarry. That’s northeast.” He shifted his hand. “Thata way. No trolls, and far enough from the guards that no one stops us.”

  “Why would they stop us?” I asked. “Aren’t Spriggans just pests?”

  Rob glanced back at me, his grin thinning a little. “Oh, damn straight they’re pest. Spiteful little bastards...” He shrugged as we moved. “Problem is, there are usually a lot of them. They breed like wildfire. And that makes ‘em perfect cannon fodder for young nobles looking to grind out blessing stages.”

  “Which means,” Amelia said, a sharp edge creeping into her voice, “we can get to them first.”

  I grinned and followed, trusting that they knew the way. We crossed open green fields, then slipped into a thin stretch of forest that looked young and deliberate, trees planted in neat lines and cut back in places where lumber had already been taken. Beyond it, a dirt road led away from the city, pale under moonlight, guiding us toward the quarry.

  Our boots crunched softly on stone as we walked. Rob and Amelia kept glancing up at the sky, checking their bearings. I did the same, though the stars unsettled me more than they helped. The constellations were wrong. Not just unfamiliar, but different in nature. Many of the stars burned in muted reds and blues instead of the pale-yellow glow I was used to. It felt as if the sky itself was built from different pieces.

  When we reached the quarry, I stopped short. It was far larger than I had imagined. The town we had left behind might as well have been scooped out of the earth and set aside. The pit stretched wide and deep, its walls scarred by old cuts. Wooden supports braced dark mine shafts along the lower levels, but not a single light stirred below.

  Moonlight would have to be enough, I thought.

  Amelia reached into her pack and drew out a short wooden rod wrapped in treated cloth. A few quick strikes of flint and the torch flared to life, flame licking upward and casting long shadows across the stone.

  “Nice,” I said as the quarry brightened. “So where to?”

  Rob smiled. “My sources say they’ve been holed up in cave three.”

  “Do you trust him?” Amelia asked, her eyes already searching the dark.

  “Yeah,” Rob said. “Maybe not with my life, but the information’s solid. He overheard the guards.” He pointed down into the quarry where a faded number three was painted above a boarded tunnel.

  “Well, that looks…” Amelia started.

  “Promising,” Rob finished, already heading toward it.

  I fell in beside them. “Want me to carry that?” I asked, nodding toward the torch as we moved.

  Amelia gave me a look that asked if I had lost my mind. When she realised, I was serious, her expression softened and she shook her head. “No, thanks.” Her eyes flicked to my hip. “You’ve got your weapon. This one’s mine.”

  “Right. Of course,” I said, heat creeping into my face.

  She laughed under her breath, the sound cutting through the tension as we started down into the dark.

  “Remember,” Rob said quietly as he took the lead, “we don’t have any fancy charms this time. So, if shit hits the fan… we run.”

  “Deal,” I said.

  Amelia frowned slightly and leaned closer. “What’s a fan?”