Chapter 231: Reputational Subterfuge

  Ignoring the tall, dried, and withered corn stalks that resisted her forward momentum, Anelia maneuvered forcefully through yet another field of blackened leaves, the plants having died during these cold winter months, a cold that could be clearly felt as another wintry breeze enveloped her body. The temperature had dropped a great deal from yesterday and was now well below freezing, but Anelia could barely feel the cold as she continued on, her body making a constant, slight rustling as she waded from one field to the next, pausing upon entering another grassy clearing.

  I’ll find you, Adim, she thought, her armor and helm covered in dried blood that was not her own.

  It was now just a bit past noon, and from the constant chatter of voices coming in through the emergency Comm frequency, it seemed that none of the search parties had found any sign of Vaz or his fellow bounty hunters; this, even despite the additional eight helicopters that had joined in on the manhunt. In all likelihood, they weren’t going to make much progress. The farmlands were simply too large, and there were too many places to hide.

  But that was fine. Anelia didn’t need them. She and her “companion” would be more than capable enough of handling things by themselves.

  “Are you positive it’s this way?” he asked her.

  “Mhm.”

  “You’re certain?” he asked again, this time annoying her and reminding her why she preferred to work alone. “The intelligence that you…‘collected’ only gives a general area. A small dot on a map, perhaps, but in reality, that’s still quite a few miles wide.”

  “Already told you I’m sure. Don’t make me say it again.”

  “Understood.”

  Of all people in this world, she’d ended up joining forces with High-Lord Alex Oren, who had caught up with her somehow, which was impressive all on its own. He’d emerged from one of the crop fields, and upon seeing him, Anelia had drawn her guns and pointed them at him threateningly.

  “If you’re here to capture me, save it for later. I’ve got shit to do,” she’d told him.

  “Capture you?” he’d asked. “For what?”

  “For killing the bounty hunters in the hotel. Isn’t that why you’re here? Because I killed those people?”

  “No,” he’d said softly but firmly. “I don’t care about that at all, actually. That’s an issue for you and Kalana to work out in your own time. It’s irrelevant as far as I’m concerned.”

  As it turned out, not only hadn’t he been interested in arresting her, but he’d insisted that they work together to rescue Adim and Peter. At first, Anelia had told him to fuck off and take a hike back to Den of Ziragoth. But, after a bit of persistence, she’d relented and had allowed him to tag along under the condition that he not try to force her to show mercy. Surprisingly, he’d agreed.

  “I have absolutely no intention of taking prisoners today,” he’d said, words that, in hindsight, had actually kind of surprised her coming from him. “It’s not that I don’t believe in being merciful. It’s more that I realize mercy is not always a strategically sound decision, and in matters such as these, it’s not something we should be overly concerned with.”

  With those words, he’d convinced her. She also hadn’t felt like arguing. And so, together, the two had spent the past five hours traveling southward.

  Right now, High-Lord Oren looked nothing at all like his normal self. Much like Anelia, he was clad in full silvery scale armor, along with a helm that concealed most of his face. He’d apparently had this set of gear just sitting around in his Bank and Storage from his adventuring days. But the change in equipment had not been for the sake of protection; rather, it was meant to serve as a disguise for what Anelia knew would come next.

  Kid better not piss his pants. We’re going into enemy territory.

  Anelia halted where she stood, and the “Science Lord” halted beside her. Then, crouching low until one knee touched the ground, Anelia did what she’d been doing regularly for the past half-hour: she activated her unique ability, Tracking Aura, with a target of Human.

  Immediately, her perspective of the world darkened and changed colors to the point that everything around her turned from clearly visible into nothing more than a vague shadow—everything except for multiple pairs of footprints on the ground, which shone a bright, pulsing yellow color. But these footprints did not necessarily represent a path that humans had walked; rather, they represented a path to where humans resided, which made this ability less useful in cities, towns, or anywhere reasonably well populated.

  Nearest humans are this way, she thought, lifting her head.

  Overall, the sharp contrast between the darkness set against the bright yellow made it so that whatever it was she sought was effectively highlighted and unmissable to her senses, but this came at the cost of being unable to clearly make out anything else while it was active.

  Tracing these prints with her eyes, Anelia noticed that they ran across this current stretch of clearing and into yet another field before exiting and running down a hill and out of sight. Breathing more heavily, Anelia disabled the ability, and her view of the world returned to normal, the darkness quickly abating. She stood upright and, together with Lord Oren, she followed the trail.

  “I’m guessing you’ve used some ability?” he asked, his tone coming across as amused and intrigued.

  “They’re this way,” she said, pointing. Aside from that, she refused to answer the question. Her ability was her own business.

  “Lead the way.”

  And Anelia did just that, but not before briefly pausing so that she could turn and look at Lord Oren. At the moment, only the man’s eyes were actually visible with the helm on his head, and she searched them for signs of conviction.

  “Are you sure you want to be part of this? You’re one of their greatest enemies, kid.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” he replied immediately.

  “Your guild ain’t gonna be happy about you going off alone like this. Better not fall back on me.”

  “They’ll get over it—and it won’t.”

  Anelia nodded, continued along the memorized path, then activated her ability yet again after moving a bit more distance ahead.

  Her ability was invaluable for hunting targets in remote areas; still, she needed to be very, very careful when using Tracking Aura, and not just because it blinded her to about ninety-percent of her surrounding, either; no, the ability was dangerous for many other reasons and had even almost killed her about six years ago when she’d been doing a job for the Lords of Justice. Back then, she had accepted what should’ve been a mundane, easy assassination mission to take out some low-ranking guild member of Children of Order who’d fucked the wife of a higher-ranking member of LOJ.

  Typical stuff.

  The kind of shit she used to do all the time.

  Unfortunately, someone had tipped off the guy, and he’d managed to escape her grasp, fleeing into the outskirts of Slopes of Dal’Zarrah during a particularly harsh blizzard right around this time of year. The guy couldn’t shake her off his tail, however, as Anelia had activated Tracking Aura, letting her pursue him even as he fled out of sight. But on this particular day, the problem had actually turned out to be that he hadn’t fled far at all.

  This man she had been hunting…he had been much, much closer than she’d expected, finding him while Tracking Aura was still active, meaning she struggled to see him at first, which let him get the jump on her instead of the other way around. And although he was a relatively weak mage who ordinarily wouldn’t pose much of a threat, Anelia’s view of the world had been bathed in darkness, which led to her taking a hit as she traced his footsteps through the screen of a blizzard and into the backyard of a home in a small, rural community.

  But that wasn’t even the issue, as the man was pathetic and could not possibly have damaged her severely enough to be a threat; no, it had been her own Gods-be-damned ability that had almost taken her life—and from Exertion Debt of all things.

  Basically, even though Tracking Aura only had a Medium-Low Exertion Cost, the ability was of a type known as an “aura” ability, which meant it had a constant cost that needed to be paid in evenly spaced intervals in order to remain active. And in the case of Tracking Aura, this meant having to fork over a continuous Exertion Cost of Low every four seconds while the ability was in use. And since Anelia had preemptively stumbled upon her target, the first thing Anelia had obviously attempted to do had been to deactivate it, both so she could see properly again but also to avoid draining even more of her stamina.

  And that was where the problems had begun. Because she couldn’t.

  Her target, weak as he was, managed to use his one and only decent ability and hit her with a thirty-second-long silence debuff, which, on its own, typically wouldn’t be cause for concern. After all, a silence was just a form of crowd-control that disabled the user’s ability to activate any and all spells and abilities while also preventing vocalized speech. Her guns, though, were exempt from that.

  But what Anelia hadn’t realized until just then, on that particular moment and on that particular day, was that a silence also prevented her from canceling her own active aura, as technically, the way to deactivate an aura was to use it a second time: one for on, one for off. In other words, the mere act of canceling an aura was considered the use of an ability. Thus, for half a minute, she would not be able to restore her vision to normal.

  Upon realizing this, Anelia had acted quickly and decisively. She’d promptly drawn both her guns and fired at the slight sound of feet running on snow, and from the man’s brief, but intense dying cry, she could tell she’d scored two successful hits and had neutralized her target.

  Her mission had been completed, and the mage was no longer a threat. Her aura, however, remained on.

  Thanks to the silence, she had been left in the very precarious and dangerous position of being stuck in her aura for half a minute, and to make matters worse, she’d already been running low on stamina to begin with.

  If she’d passed out, she would’ve died for certain. She would never wake up. She’d continue to have her stamina drained even while unconscious until eventually her heart gave out. The aura would just keep ticking every four seconds until she was dead. All on its own, a Low exertion cost wasn’t much, but when it was taken from you over and over and over, it added up quickly.

  Realizing this, Anelia had fought for dear life to ensure she didn’t lose consciousness for even just a moment, as tick after tick of her aura further drained her strength. But in the last few seconds before the silence expired, she felt herself right at the point of nodding off. And in that moment, she’d actually had to break her own Gods-be-damned middle finger, snapping the bone so that the flare-up of pain prevented her from collapsing into E-debt-caused sleep, which would’ve been a death sentence under those circumstances.

  So, yeah. Since then, she’d become far more cautious in how she used the ability.

  And now, with Lord Oren walking behind and slightly to her left side, Anelia disabled the aura once again as they exited the final clearing and then began to walk down a semi-steep hill, at the bottom of which was a river that also served as a regional dividing line between the Whispery Woods and Tomb of Fire. At the moment, the surface of the water was frozen over by ice. She doubted it would hold if they tried to walk over it. They’d have to get wet in this freezing weather.

  “Last chance to turn back,” she warned the kid. “Behind enemy lines from here on out.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Let’s find our targets.”

  Anelia nodded. “I know this plan’s a bit audacious, but…I can’t think of anything else.”

  “It’s a good plan,” Lord Oren said. “We’ll make it work.”

  “We fucking better.”

  Lord Oren’s eyes, the only part of him she could see, narrowed at her words. “Must you speak with such crude language?”

  “Yeah,” Anelia replied. “I must.”

  “Very well. I simply just don’t see why that kind of language is necessary.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t have to see why. If you don’t like it, kiss my ass and fuck right back off to the Elves. I talk how I talk.”

  “I can gather that,” he replied with a sigh.

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  Anelia grunted. She didn’t like High-Lord Oren. At all. But, to be fair, she didn’t like most people, so the problem was probably her. Still, there was just something about his know-it-all, overconfident, lecturing attitude that pissed her off. Honestly, she’d really like to punch him in his nose. Just give him one good crack, right in the face.

  What the hell did Kalana even see in this guy, anyway? What was so special about him that the princess regarded him so highly? He was an obnoxious prick. Just look at him, standing there and actually trying to tell her what words she was allowed to use. Fuck him, the piece of shit.

  “Everything all right?” he asked. “I’m sorry if I upset you. No offense was intended.”

  “I’m not upset at all,” she said. “Let’s keep going.”

  The two of them navigated their way down the gradually steepening hill until they paused at the start of the river. Lifting just one foot, she placed some weight down. The ice held. Then she put more weight down, and still, it held. “If we go under, we go under,” she said. “Let’s hope for the best. Doubt it’ll hold.”

  “I concur.”

  To her surprise, as they walked along the icy river, they were spared from being submerged, and it did in fact hold—for Anelia, at least. As she very carefully inched her way along the frozen surface, the ice cracked in numerous places, sometimes with an audible loudness that surprised her, but it held throughout. Not that it truly mattered. The worst that would happen if it broke would be some discomfort. Whereas a normal, level-1 person would either die from the hypothermic shock or end up trapped beneath the ice due to the underwater current, Anelia and Lord Oren faced no such risk other than becoming really cold and drenched. Regardless, she breathed a sigh of relief as she crossed to the other side without issue.

  Then she turned to look at High-Lord Oren.

  Just one step before planting a foot back down on the soil, there was a loud crack, and then the ice gave way under his feet, imploding and vanishing away into the water beneath. His eyes widened, though in what looked far more like annoyance than fear, as he began to drop. Fortunately for him, Anelia was already throwing out her hand, grabbing him by his scale-covered gauntlet, and yanking him towards her and onto dry land, where he steadied himself and bowed his head with what looked like genuine gratitude.

  “Thank you, Anelia,” he said.

  She shrugged in reply. Then she reached into her ear and pulled out her communications device, crushing it and throwing it into the river through the broken surface-level ice that Lord Oren had almost fallen through. “Get rid of your Comm,” she said. “We’ve gotta be dark from here on out in case they scan us.”

  “Of course.”

  Having now crossed into Tomb of Fire, Anelia again activated Tracking Aura. At once, the world turned so dark that it was only a touch lighter than pitch black, and this darkness was to be found everywhere around her save for the very brightly glowing yellow footprints that lead across a flat stretch of land and then veered up and to the right, towards what looked like a cave nestled into the base of the two-hundred-feet-tall bluffs that she knew ran for twenty miles southward.

  “They’re in there,” she said, pointing into the distance as she deactivated the ability. “In that cave about half a mile ahead.”

  Lord Oren nodded. “Excellent. Let’s make this plan work.”

  Anelia knew her plan was daring enough that it verged on stupid. She also knew that it was completely, entirely contingent upon nothing but her reputation as a bounty hunter, something that she used to treasure more than her own life. But there was no other choice, since finding Vaz and his goons was like finding a needle in a haystack.

  She had to work with what she could, and this was all there was.

  Last night, when she’d tortured the two bounty hunters in the hotel for information, they hadn’t been able to tell her where Vaz and the others were in hiding. But they had been able to give her the approximate locations of the only people who could: specifically, the eight strike teams in Tomb of Fire, which were forces sent to the border by the Guild of Gentlemen to extract Vazzal and his crew to safety once they drew close enough.

  According to the two bounty hunters, each of these eight strike teams was waiting in cover at various points along the border in order to take custody of the children, at which time, getting them back would likely be impossible. And that wasn’t just pessimism but a matter of fact.

  If the children crossed the border, they were as good as gone.

  And so, since she wasn’t able to find Vaz outright, Anelia and Lord Oren had gone well beyond the radius in which he was still thought to be located, essentially heading him off. The two of them had instead ventured all the way down to the border between Whispery Woods and Tomb of Fire. Their plan was to locate and make contact with one of the eight Guild of Gentlemen strike teams, each of which it was believed had the ability to get into contact with and track Vazzal. In essence, they would learn his position through one of these teams.

  As far as how? Well, that depended on Plan A succeeding. If not, there was always Plan B. And there were a whole lot of ways that Plan A could fail. For starters, if Vazzal Shelen had informed the Guild of Gentlemen about Anelia’s presence and her hindering of the operation, then it would be straight to Plan B: violence. The same was true if they somehow figured out that the man under the scale armor was Lord Oren, or if Anelia’s reputation didn’t hold up the way she expected it to.

  It certainly won’t after this, she thought. This might be the last time I ever get to use it.

  Ironically, none of this would’ve been necessary if Kalana and her mother had just let Anelia handle things all on her own. In fact, the only reason she couldn’t use Tracking Aura to find Vaz and the boys was because of the vast number of search teams that the queen had deployed in the farmlands. With so many people spread about all over the place, the ability was far more likely to lead Anelia to Peacekeepers and Elves than it was to lead her to Vaz, and she’d just end up wandering around aimlessly.

  No, this was the right play to make, and she was making it.

  “Get ready,” she whispered as she and Lord Oren drew nearer to the cave. “I see movement.”

  “I do as well,” he replied.

  “Even without your glasses?”

  “I’m far-sighted, not near. Even then, I can manage without them.”

  As Anelia continued on, she noticed that there was an artificial-looking trench dug into the terrain just before the entrance to the cave, and from the amount of stirring followed by the subsequent chorus of alarmed shouts, she estimated there to be close to fifty level-one human soldiers of the Guild of Gentlemen lying in wait with their guns trained on her and Lord Oren. This number quickly grew, however, as emerging from the cave was another fifty, along with what looked like ten leveled members of the guild.

  Approaching closer, Anelia—and probably Lord Oren—recognized one of them as the newly promoted 11th in command, Sir Bradlay Camonae, a short man with a long, silver-grey beard who, despite his stature, wore mail armor and had a two-handed sword on his back. He, along with the other leveled members of his guild and a significant number of troops, began hurrying over towards Anelia while shouting out threats.

  “Drop to your knees at once!” a low-ranking, leveled member of the guild, wielding a staff, cried out, pointing it in their direction. “Stop moving immediately!”

  Like a disturbed colony of ants, the strike team reacted with aggressive hostility, and soon dozens of voices were barking out demands of the two of them. In her peripheral vision, Anelia saw Lord Oren shift his eyes to the left where she was standing. Very quickly, she gave him a reassuring nod, which he returned.

  It was time to see what her reputation was worth.

  “Drop to your knees now or be destroyed!” Sir Camonae shouted, removing his large, two-handed blade and holding it out in front of him. “Whoever you are! Stop now or face certain death!”

  Anelia did not comply, and neither did Lord Oren. Instead, she lifted her hands, raised the visor of her helm, and scowled openly at the semi-high-ranking, silver-bearded member of the Guild of Gentlemen. And now, forcing as much frustration, disrespect, impatience, and rudeness into her tone as she could—which for Anelia, wasn’t all that difficult—she raised her voice and shouted right back at him.

  “The hell are you idiots doing?” she snapped, marching even faster towards them. “Is this some kinda joke?” Lord Oren kept pace with her, but he said nothing as the two hurried their way towards the suddenly uncertain-looking members of the guild. It was at this point in time that Sir Camonae began blinking as though realizing who approached.

  “A-Anelia?” he asked. “Is that you?”

  “Obviously,” she replied curtly. “What’s going on here?” Bravely, boldly, and without showing even a twinge of hesitation, she approached the low-ranking member of the guild whose staff was pointed at her face, and with a vicious growl, she grabbed it, ripping it out of his fingers. Then she held it at both ends horizontally and slammed it down against her knee, causing a loud snap as the weapon broke into two pieces, both of which disappeared as the staff suffered a full break.

  Anelia glared at the mage. "Point a staff at my face ever again, and I break you in half too.” Following this threat, she thrust both her palms forward and violently shoved the terrified and confused-looking mage, causing him to fling backwards and land on his ass. For good measure, she spit on him, too.

  “Disrespectful shit.”

  From the way the entire strike team hesitated, she could tell her plan was working. So far, things were going exactly how she hoped.

  “Anelia, what in the name of the Gods are you doing out here?”

  Anelia, hoping to come across as even more irritated and impatient, said, “What do you think, Sir Camonae?”

  He wet his lips a moment, then lowered his blade. “Is this about…?”

  “The mission, yeah,” she finished for him. “Why the fuck else would I be out here?”

  “Wait, so…so you’re working with Vazzal?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded.

  Cautiously, he lifted his palm and then made a downward gesture, which caused the troops behind him to lower their guns and the other guild members to slightly drop their guard. “I would’ve thought he’d inform us if you were on this operation. I heard nothing about this.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause I only just took the job. Not sure how much you know, but Vaz’s gig turned to shit, and they’re out hunting for him. He called me up begging to drag his sorry ass out of another botched job.” Angrily, she spat on the ground. “You should’ve hired me from the start. Instead you picked Vazzal Shelen. You get what you pay for.”

  “Well, no one knew where to find you,” Sir Camonae said, now speaking somewhat defiantly as though remembering he had a backbone. “And I still don’t understand. Aren’t you in retirement?”

  “Officially? Yeah. But plans change when the pay is right.”

  “I see. But…” He shook his head. “Why are you here?”

  Anelia continued to speak as though annoyed and aggrieved at the fact that anyone would dare question her. “Like I said, Vaz says you’ll pay me to drag his ass out of this mess and bring him here.”

  “Of course. So why haven’t you?”

  “For two reasons,” she replied immediately. “One, I don’t trust that son of a bitch, because he’s stiffed me before. And two, I lost contact with him.”

  “We all have,” Sir Camonae said, sheathing his blade and then scratching his beard. Anelia had expected this reply, because she had been the one who’d asked Lord Oren to block out all non-allied Comm channels in the region of Whispery Woods using powerful jammers aboard the search helicopters. This would provide the perfect cover for Anelia.

  “I got cut off before I could learn the details and discuss price. Now, the way I see it, he’s as good as dead without me, and you’re all fucked. I want five million, all coins, no credit, and I want it within a week.”

  “Provided you are able to bring him to me with the heir in hand, I would be happy to honor that price. But I must ask: how did you even find us?”

  “Some of Vaz's crew that got separated told me where to find you right before Princess Kalana ripped them to pieces. I barely escaped from her myself. Girl is a ruthless killer.”

  "Elvish beast!" a member of the guild cried. Many voices chimed in with agreement. But Sir Camonae shushed them and returned to questioning Anelia.

  “So, you came to us instead of going straight to Vazzal?”

  “Yeah.”

  "Why?"

  Her story so far was ridiculous and hard to believe, and it was filled with more holes than the bodies of the people she’d shot dead in the hotel. But her reputation was so excellent that, as long as what she said was at the very least possible, she genuinely didn’t think she’d have any problems.

  “Vaz called me up and said he was on a job that went to hell. Said it was big-money and that all I would have to do is help him cross into Tomb of Fire to get paid. But I lost contact with him halfway through the conversation and didn't learn his location. So you’ll have to tell me where that incompetent shit is holed up so I can bring him to you. He must’ve told you before he lost contact. Right?”

  “Ah, of course. Yes, he did, but...” Sir Camonae turned his head as though only first noticing the presence of Lord Oren. “First, who’s this?”

  “None of your fucking business,” she replied. “That’s who.” She waved her gauntleted hand in front of the man’s bearded face to draw his attention, which succeeded as he again faced forward and locked eyes with her. “I don’t have all day. Where’s that bastard hiding?”

  “I don’t know how far he’s moved since our last contact, but I can show you on a map where he was when we spoke two hours ago. He seemed to be taking a path southwest through Whispery Woods.” The man snapped his fingers, and a level-one troop in a camo-colored uniform hurried over with a tablet held in both hands and a map already on the screen.

  Anelia suppressed a grin. Everything was going perfect. Everything was going exactly how she’d envisioned.

  …until it suddenly didn’t. Because it was here that things took a completely unpredictable turn, though it was through no fault of her own.

  “Sir, please permit me to speak,” one of the younger members of the guild said. He looked to be around Lord Oren’s age, and he wielded a shortsword along with a small shield.

  A moment before pointing out the location for Anelia, Sir Camonae paused, looked his way, and asked, “What is it, Faxel?”

  The young man, Faxel, bowed. “I know that I have no right to say this. I’m only the 84th, and my opinion is basically irrelevant.”

  “Say it,” Sir Camonae ordered. “Let’s hear it.”

  The man’s face tightened. “We have been so humiliated. We have been utterly disgraced. I know I speak for far more than just myself when I say that standing around here and praying for the success of bounty hunters only furthers our disgrace. And there’s not a man, woman, or child who doesn’t agree with me. Again, I apologize for speaking of matters so far above my rank, but were I not so passionate, I wouldn’t dare to—”

  Sir Camonae held up his hand, cutting the young man off. “I understand,” he replied. “And I appreciate your grit and determination. But what, exactly, are you getting at?”

  “We should accompany Anelia,” he said at last.

  At this, Sir Camonae sighed. “Invade the Whispery Woods?”

  “Yes!” he replied enthusiastically. “Why are we standing around here? We are a fully formed strike team. Are we really that afraid of Elvish beasts?”

  Sir Camonae’s tone darkened significantly. “You’re talking about a deliberate provocation on Elvish territory.”

  “Provocation?” he replied. “We never signed any kind of peace treaty. Officially, we are still at war. And the Elves, they murdered so many of our—”

  “I know what they’ve done,” the bearded, mail-wearing Gentleman interrupted. “But still, think about what you’re actually saying. Do you really believe High Command would authorize us to strike? Our orders were very clear. We are not to step foot onto Whispery Woods. The bounty hunters bring the children to us, and then we fall back to the city, killing any who pursue.”

  The man lowered his eyes and bowed. His voice softened. “Understood, Sir Camonae. You’re right. We can’t attack.”

  And at this, a very strange glint entered the short, silver-bearded man’s eyes. “Now, I didn’t quite say that.”

  “Huh? But you just—”

  “I asked you if you believed High Command would authorize the strike.”

  The young man paused a moment as if to parse the question. Then, his voice still soft and barely above a whisper, he said, “No, they would not.”

  The glint in the eyes of Sir Camonae seemed to grow. “Everything you feel, I feel too. It’s as you say: I am also desperate to regain some of the dignity that was stolen from us. But if we attack against explicit orders, I will likely be executed. We all might be. So tell me: are you willing to die for your revenge?”

  “Yes!” the man shouted in reply. “Both of my brothers have already died along with my father on the southern coast when the Royal Roses seized the beach.” He looked around, first at the other leveled members nearby and then at the rifle-wielding soldiers. “I want to fight.”

  “Very well,” Sir Camonae whispered. “If Strike Team Charlie understands the cost and repercussions…” He lifted his head and once more met Anelia’s eyes. “Good news, bounty hunter. You have backup now. We’ll come with you.”

  Anelia forced a smile onto her lips, which resisted, causing her mouth to twitch. “Good. Pay doesn’t change.”

  “Of course not.”

  Briefly, she exchanged an alarmed look with Lord Oren, whose eyes gave off a sense of calm indifference. But she knew that, on the inside, he must be very alarmed. He would likely try to communicate privately with Anelia at the first possible chance, but both of them now had so many eyes on them and nowhere in which to slip away for a moment.

  Without their Comms, communicating with the queen became impossible. This meant they would have to deal with the entire strike team before reaching Vazzal, as Anelia doubted the two of them could handle the bounty hunters and the Guild of Gentlemen at once.

  She would have to make it work. Even if, as a last resort, it meant rescuing just Adim and escaping with Smoke Shot.

  At least now they we're one step closer.