Walking alongside Tamina, Rylan glanced at her scrunched eyebrows and flaring nostrils. Yuel had taken one look at her face, and wisely decided to scout ahead.

  “You want to talk about it?” Rylan finally ventured.

  “Talk about what?” she growled.

  “All right, I’ll take that as a no...”

  They walked in silence for a few seconds more, before she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you.”

  “Yeah... you definitely shouldn’t.”

  She shot him a glare.

  “What?” he asked innocently. “I was agreeing with you!”

  She looked away, but not before Rylan spotted the corner of her lip quirking up. “All right, wise guy. If you’re so smart, can you tell me how Soren’s suddenly such a clodmonger?”

  Rylan shrugged. “Easy. He already was.”

  “Oh yeah?” Tamina asked, raising a single brow. “And here I thought you were friends. What does that say about you?”

  “That I’m too kind for my own good?” Rylan suggested.

  The corner of Tamina’s mouth twitched up. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  A week or two ago, a comment like that would have caused Rylan to raise his hackles. But he and Tamina were much closer now, and there was no real bite to her words, so he just shrugged. “All right, perhaps I’m not being entirely fair about Soren, but he can be rather... dismissive when he thinks he’s right about something. Which is most of the time.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  “He’s getting better about it, though,” Rylan said, glancing over. “I mean... he actually apologised to me for not taking my point of view seriously enough. The fact that he’s being a little more forceful right now, well, we’re in a stressful situation.”

  Tamina nodded slowly.

  “And I have to say,” Rylan added. “I’d also rather you didn’t antagonise the Sapphire-Grade Quinthar too much. I kinda like having you around.”

  She smiled a real smile this time, and bumped her hip into his, causing a burst of fluttering in his stomach. “I wasn’t trying to antagonise her, you know? She’s the one who came to start shit, I just didn’t bow and scrape. I get not wanting to start trouble, but we can’t just let her walk all over us either. We don’t answer to her; she’s just some woman.”

  “I think you mean just some Baroness.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure. All I’m saying is, a Quinthar should have some self-respect.”

  Rylan frowned, studying her as they kept walking.

  “What?” she asked after a moment.

  Rylan shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just... you often say things like that, and I guess I’m just curious where it’s coming from. I mean, it’s not like you’re from some long line of Quinthar, right?”

  Tamina lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes at him, but in a playful manner. “Are you calling me prideful?”

  “Ah, yes,” Rylan replied, snapping his fingers. “That’s the word I was looking for, how come you’re so”—Tamina threateningly raised her fist—“ehm, confident and assertive? Oh—is it due to the teachings of Singghir?”

  Lowering her arm again with a snort, Tamina shook her head. “Not really. To be honest, I only became familiar with Singghir’s teachings after I became a Quinthar. If you must know... I guess it’s because of my mom.”

  Rylan nodded, but didn’t say anything, hoping she’d elaborate. After a moment, she glanced ahead at Yuel, seemingly to ensure he was out of earshot, then took a deep breath and continued.

  “I had to watch my mom flatter and beg for over a decade. The landlord, our debtors, the guards... She was always pleading with a bowed head, for an extension, for mercy. I absolutely hated seeing her like that, because she was my hero. I literally dreamt of becoming a Quinthar and going up to those condescending windbags to tell them to show her the respect she deserved. And so, the day I gained my first Skill, I told her: ‘From now on, don’t bow your head to anyone who hasn’t earned it.’ And I’m damn sure not going to start doing so myself.”

  Once again, Rylan was struck by the fire in Tamina’s voice as she spoke of her family. It called upon something warm and protective in him, yet also elicited a sense of bitterness.

  “What about the Talons, though?” he asked, pushing down his complex feelings.

  “That’s different. First of all, they’re the real deal, a major power. And I still don’t bow and scrape to them, if that’s what you’re thinking; I just have an arrangement with them where I do their bidding in return for their money and the care they provide for my family.”

  Rylan hummed, thoughtful.

  “Anyway, thanks to Soren, we’re stuck with Yuel now,” Tamina said, clearly done with the subject of her Quinthar pride. “Which I guess means we can’t go looking for your spirit friend.”

  “Yeah, that is kind of a shame.”

  Tamina shrugged, clearly not too torn up about it. “Maybe you'll feel something again if you happen to get close enough?”

  “I mean, maybe, but...” Rylan trailed off as Yuel approached them from the front.

  The stylish blond’s eyes flitted over their faces, and he seemed relieved to find their moods improved. “So, the bad news is, I haven’t seen tusk nor turd of the ramtusks. The good news is, the walk over to the other side of the city will take a good hour!”

  “How, exactly, is that good news?” Rylan asked.

  “Because, my dear Thar,” Yuel said, falling into step next to him. “It gives us time to gossip! Now, I simply have to know: how did you end up in such an unenviable situation where running away into the cloudsea was your best option?”

  Despite himself, Rylan felt the corners of his mouth pulling upwards. “You really want my whole life story, huh? Well, I guess the first thing you should know is that my last name... is Cloudgift.”

  Yuel gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “You were dropped on their doorstep?! Oh, you poor thing! Do you have any idea who—”

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  Tamina cleared her throat, accelerating her step. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll scout ahead for a bit.”

  Rylan frowned after her, not sure what the problem was. Does she actually dislike Yuel? I thought she just found him inconvenient...

  “Oh dear,” Yuel said, his eyes twinkling, “Did I interrupt something? I do apologise if I did...”

  Rylan accidentally inhaled some spit, flying into a fit of coughs as he tried to explain that there had been nothing to interrupt. Yuel helpfully thumped his back, the small smirk never leaving his face.

  “I’m sure, milord, I’m sure. Now, I believe you were telling me about how you wound up indebted?”

  Talking to Yuel was pleasant. The man ooh’ed and ah’ed at all the right times, and it was quite vindicating to hear a near-complete stranger be affronted on his behalf. Yuel seemed to particularly abhor the part about the anklet Rylan had been forced to wear.

  Stepping back into the fog on the other side of the massive air bubble was less pleasant. Somehow, it was all the worse to have your clothing grow damp and cold when it had finally been warm and dry for a while.

  The tingles took a minute to return, but when they did, they returned with a vengeance, pointing straight back at the bubble of air. As if who or whatever was sending them was worried he might be walking away entirely, rather than just going out for a hunt. After they stayed on the fringes for a while, however, the frantic pulses seemed to calm down.

  Interestingly, the buildings in this part of the city were more intact than the ones inside the bubble. Rylan suspected it was because corals had sprouted up against the walls of many buildings, turning the whole neighbourhood into a pseudo-reef.

  That meant more cover should Dreadmaw make its way over to them, which was nice. Being able to take shelter inside a building would perhaps be ideal, but that was a little trickier, as many had their doors and windows overgrown.

  Of course, if they could just quickly find some food and get out, that would hopefully never be relevant... but first they would have to come across some suitable prey.

  And so, after nothing showed up for several minutes, Tamina indicated that they were moving deeper. She kept her sword and shield stowed, as they’d long decided that their best defence against their biggest worry would be a quick retreat to the bubble.

  Yuel, meanwhile, kept his harpooncaster raised as he scanned their surroundings, placing his feet with care.

  He seemed a bit nervous, more so than Rylan, at least, who was feeling quite relaxed. Then again, he’d just spent weeks in the fog, and moreover, had something Yuel didn’t.

  A Mana Shell.

  Tamina raised a hand, before silently conveying that she’d spotted something.

  Rylan squinted into the fog in the indicated direction, and saw a vague shadow that appeared to be moving towards them. Before he could do much about it, however, Yuel fired his caster with a loud twang.

  The short, lightweight harpoon—which Rylan suspected had been carved from whalebone or something similar—flew forward, the reel holding the line spinning freely until the projectile hit its target with an audible thud.

  The shadow was flung back, but Yuel quickly grabbed the reel, and the line went taut, then slack again as whatever he’d hit started drifting back towards them.

  Yuel silently pumped his fist, then started cranking the reel on the side of his caster. “It’s pretty light! I think it’s a fogfish!” he whispered.

  Rylan interestedly watched the line wind back up. Now that’s how you hunt in the fog... Not a moment’s worry about losing your projectiles!

  “Could be,” Tamina replied. “Could also be a jellyfish. Or a clump of mistweed.”

  Yuel shrugged, seeming unbothered. “I suppose we’ll know in a moment!”

  Rylan watched with rapt attention as the thing Yuel had speared came drifting closer. Soon enough, he was able to make out its shape, then the colour of its scales. “That’s a fogbass! I can definitely work with that. Nice shot, Yuel!”

  The harpoon had struck it square between the eyes, which was good, as it meant the internal organs hadn’t been pierced, and cleaning it should be a breeze.

  “Thanks!” Yuel replied, as he yanked on the rope to pull it the rest of the way in. “I’m starting to think we should’ve headed out here much—”

  Something burst forth from the mist, chasing the fogbass, and heading straight for Yuel. A mouth full of razor-sharp teeth opened wide, then clamped down around a metal limb, interposed at the last second.

  Yuel stumbled back and fell on his ass, going pale as Tamina grappled with the mist-eel, white light flaring from her Mana Shell as it was forced to withstand the pressure of its coils encircling her body.

  “Fog!” Rylan cursed, quickly drawing a knife and rushing forward, only to hesitate.

  “Ry, get this thing off me!” Tamina grunted, while Yuel scrambled back and started winding his line back into the caster at double tempo.

  “I... I don’t want to hit you!”

  “Then don’t!”

  The mist-eel let out an angry hiss, as it managed to wrap a coil around her neck.

  Rylan hesitated only a moment longer, then steeled himself. “Hold still!”

  White light flared up beneath Tamina’s feet, and she went perfectly rigid. Before he could hesitate again, Rylan charged up his Skill and let his paring knife fly. Then his prep knife. Then his boning knife.

  He made sure not to put too much mana into the blades—only about 0.3 points each—so that even if he did hit her, her Mana Shell would protect her. However, it didn’t prove necessary, as each of his blades struck true on one of the tight coils, piercing scales and drawing foamy blood from the lightweight, deceptively strong creature.

  As the third blade sank true, a shiver seemed to travel through the mist-eel. Abruptly, it let go, whipping around and pushing off Tamina to flee. With Rylan’s knives still buried in its flesh.

  “Yuel!” Rylan cried. “Don’t let it get away!”

  With a grunt, the blond man finished cocking his harpooncaster. Then, in a single smooth motion, he flipped it up into his hands and fired.

  The short barbed spear flew after the mist-eel, and struck true. Yuel immediately grabbed the rope in his hand, and yanked.

  As it came flying back, Tamina drew her blade, and with a slash, cut off the nasty creature’s head.

  Rylan would’ve sworn its eyes followed him angrily as its head came floating past, then it was gone. Its body, however, was firmly attached to the harpoon, and not going anywhere.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Tamina said, calmly wiping off her sword. “This seems like enough food for a while.”

  There was a small kitchen adjacent to the pantry, where Rylan had Yuel drop off their catches of the day—including the spring onions Rylan had spotted on the way back.

  As the blond man excitedly rushed out to fetch Nazyr from the small plot of land nearby where they were growing bamboo, Rylan surveyed his new domain with a sigh.

  There was a hole where Rylan assumed the stove he’d seen outside had been, so he’d have to do the actual cooking there. Meanwhile, the mist-eel was about ten feet long, and already took up most of the available counter space by itself. The rest was filled up with dirty plates, pots, and pans, including one holding leftover cooked rice from the day before.

  Nazyr clearly had trouble with rationing. Rylan eyed it critically, but found nothing growing on it. In one of the cabinets beneath the counter, he found a dusty bottle of mistseed oil, and an idea for a meal started to form. There’s no sense in wasting food when we’re stuck at the bottom of the cloudsea.

  Nazyr came in, his eye lighting up at the sight of the fogbass and mist-eel laid out on the counter. “Nice!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “So, which do ye want me to carve up first, chef?”

  Rylan followed the specks of dirt as they dropped from the man’s hands down to the floor, then glanced back up to the dirty fingernails above. “Neither,” he replied sternly, folding his arms across the knife-belt on his chest. “For now, I’ll do the gutting and carving of any meat or fish. As for you, your first task as my sous chef, is to scrub these pots.”

  Nazyr groaned. “That’s gonna take so long though... I’m not even sure if we have enough clean water in the barrel to do all of those; do ye know how far we have to walk to fetch more? Our fog condenser is useless here, we had to drag it all the way at the edge of the bubble!”

  Rylan grabbed the brush lying in the nearby sink, and tossed it over. “Then I suggest you bring these dirty dishes over there, and get someone to guard you while you clean ’em on the spot, because we are not cooking in these. Oh, and make sure you come back with clean hands as well. Chop chop!”

  That said, he drew his chef’s knife, and turned around to speculatively eye the mist-eel, doing his best to hide his smile as Nazyr started gathering the dirty pots and pans, muttering under his breath.

  Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Being in charge was kind of fun.

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