The chamber roared back to life as the very mountain beneath them burst into black and red flame. It could not have been more than a second, but he watched the rock drink in Seraphae’s blood before a foot planted in his back and shot him through the opalescent arch.

  You’ve entered a designated safe zone. Volatility will begin decreasing at a rate of 5 per hour as long as you remain at rest.

  Greg’s face hit plush carpet, and he slid several feet until the top of his head hit something solid.

  “What in the fuck…” Brannoc’s familiar voice filled his ears and tension melted from his muscles. That was until the huge elf lept from his chair, kicking him in the side of the head in the process.

  “Oooooh fuck….” Greg grabbed his head and rolled onto his back, looking up at Brannoc, whose face was mid-transformation into a muzzle and growing thick fur.

  “Down boy.” Khaziel snapped his fingers and his mentor collapsed into the chair, his elven features returning. “Good dog.” The devil dropped Autumn, who was cussing and thrashing fruitlessly in his grip, before turning and zipping back up the fabric of reality like he’d just evacuated his bladder. He turned back toward them, smoke hissing off of his shoulders and face. “Is someone cooking?”

  “Uhh…” Greg made a circular motion over his face.

  “Oh, it’s me.” Khaziel looked around the house, then flicked his fingers back and forth in front of his face. He knew that focused look. Like he was reading something no one else could see. He had a user interface. The smoke stopped, and he ran his fingers over his face to make sure no damage was done. “Sorry, Pup. Had to make a few tweaks to your defenses before I broiled.”

  “The fuck are you?” Brannac snarled, still completely unable to move from the seat.

  Khaziel shrugged. “Something of a deadbeat dad hoping to buy my child’s approval with fancy gifts.” He held his hand out and a glass of bright blue liquid was suddenly in it. “That being said…I toast to your health. Be seeing you soon, Greggy boy.” Khaziel bowed, downed his drink, and then was gone.

  “What just happened? I was getting my ass kicked…now I’m here.” Autumn looked around. “Who was the devil man? Where is Kael?”

  Isabella brought up the blinking notification bar as a response to the question.

  Milestone Reached!

  Cut the head off the serpent

  You’ve taken out the leadership of the Frost trade in Rhobair. Your divine patron thanks you! Don’t think your work is done, though. There is always a bigger snake.

  Reward:

  100x gold obol

  10000 experience

  1x Sphere of Potential

  1x message stone

  “Dead…” he answered, trying to keep his jaw from dropping at the fortune that his UI just popped into his inventory. Not to mention enough experience to level again.

  “What do you mean, dead?” Autumn stepped toward him. “We were defintiely going to…” She paused, eyes flicking back and forth, clearly reading something in front of her.

  He’d only just noticed that the party link had severed. Something to do with Khaziel’s portal, maybe? The portal in the Rillon warehouse hadn’t affected it though. A mystery for another time. His head snapped back and forth, but Maeve was nowhere to be seen.

  “She’s upstairs…” Brannoc grumbled, not looking up at him as he packed his pipe with herbs. “Explain.”

  Greg frowned, glancing to the hall and seriously considering ignoring him, before thinking better of it and shoving his hand into the duster pocket to produce Borrowed Time. “I don’t know if you meant to leave that in there…but it saved our lives.”

  His mentor’s brow narrowed, but Autumn was the one to speak. “Sorry, a watch saved us? Who was Mr. Handsy with the horns?”

  Greg rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “The watch stopped time long enough for me to find a solution to the problem. Khaziel was part of the solution.’

  “Khaziel?” Brannoc plucked the pipe from between his teeth. “The Wrath That Whispers, Khaziel?”

  “That’s the one.” Greg nodded.

  “You fucking idiot.” Brannoc growled at him, leaning forward in his rocker. “Where is it?”

  “I’m so lost.” Autumn moved up so she was between the two of them, but not blocking the glare that Brannoc shot at him. “Why would a devil save us from a bunch of drugged up cultists?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Brannoc’s eyes flicked to Autumn at the C-word, but immediately snapped back on him. “Show me.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I just did what I had to do.” Greg turned his attention to Autumn. “He has a vested interest in keeping me alive.”

  “Why?” Autumn glared at him.

  “Yes. Why is that, you fucking idiot?” Brannoc took the pipe in his mouth and took a long, stress-induced drag.

  “He’s not going to drop it.” Isabella interjected. “You might as well just show him.”

  Greg rolled his eyes and lifted the hem of his shirt up over his right pectoral. The raised looping brand had already cooled and healed over as if it had been there for months.

  Autumn’s face went through a myriad of expressions, finally landing on confusion with her head cocked to the side and a frown on her full lips. “What am I looking at?”

  “Devil’s brand.” Brannoc finally turned his head to look back into the fire. The disappointment laced in his voice hurting more than the brand and the promise behind it combined. “Made a deal to dig you out of whatever hole you dug yourselves into.”

  “What kind of deal?” Autumn’s hands moved to her hips, turning to face him completely and narrowing her gaze on him. It was a look he hadn’t seen in some time, but one he was all too familiar with.

  “Uhhh…one that kept us alive?” Greg shrugged and smoothed out his shirt. “I’m gonna go check on Maeve.”

  “We’re not done.” Autumn grabbed his arm at the elbow as he tried to step by her.

  Greg froze, looked down at her hand, then up into her eyes. “For now, we are.” Greg wrapped the three gloved fingers of his left hand around hers and gently squeezed before easing it off of him. “We can talk as much as you want, about whatever you want, after I’ve had a chance to process everything…and go check on my friend.”

  Autumn’s glare softened, and she gave him a nod before he set off up the stairs. He could hear the beginnings of what would become rapid-fire questions as he bound up the stairs to the single upstairs bedroom.

  Pulling off the duster, he hesitated at the threshold. A slight chill came from the room, but Brannoc had her bundled up tight in the bed, exactly the way she liked. The bright pink hair, normally up in a thick braid, rested at her side with a brush on the bedside table. He stepped up to the bed slowly, a little grin crossing his lips as he imagine the massive elf sitting cross-legged on the bed brushing Maeve’s hair.

  The bed groaned it’s protest as he eased down beside her. Her breathing seemed normal. Complexion was fine. As he reached out to press his remaining fingers to her neck to check her pulse, he frowned and pulled his hand back.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. She’d have his head for fussing over her, especially with her host no doubt doing more than his fair share. Instead, he pulled off his gloves and wiggled his stubs in the air. “I killed a fucking dragon.” He snorted at the thought. “Kinda. It was technically already dead, but these stupid lizards were trying to bring it back to life.”

  Greg spent a long time sitting by Maeve’s side. Talking to her about all he’d been through over the last couple of weeks. The wild ride that had been his reunion with Autumn. Meeting a god. Meeting a devil. Riding a murmox for the first time. He prattled on and on until his eyes suddenly turned misty.

  “He’s dead.” He whispered, setting his hand on top of hers. “Maybe I can’t do anything to help you here…but I did that for you.”

  “You can help,” Isabella spoke after letting him wallow in his misery for a beat. “You got the message stone. My obols say it connects you to the fellow Ruarth told you could help.”

  Greg chewed on his lip for a moment, slowly nodding. “You don’t have any obols,” he whispered in jest, “free loader.” He reached into his inventory and pulled the fresh message stone. As if specifically to prove her point, carved into its surface was a fist crashing into a cracked ground.

  “Almost like I’m a genius.”

  Greg rolled his eyes and spun the rock in his hand a few times. The Mother Below had been very specific about not giving him any guarantees, which did not give him the best feeling. Whoever was on the other side of this little stone could just flat out tell him no…or worse, just ignore him.

  A knock sounded, and the door creaked open. Autumn poked her head around the corner, wild verdant eyes meeting his. “Mind if I join you?”

  He shook his head and scooted a little up the bed, patting the spot beside him. “My turn for interrogation?”

  She breathed out a quiet laugh and tucked a leg under her as she sat facing him and Maeve. Neither of them spoke for a long time, but the quiet between them had never felt awkward to him. He obviously couldn’t speak to her experience, but just being in her presence had always given him a sense of calm. What they were now was totally unknown…but that calm was still there.

  After a while, she gestured to the stone in his hand. “Message stone?”

  Greg nodded and tossed it up a couple times in his palm. “She was supposed to give me a name and location.” He flicked the small, flat stone over to her. “Got a rock instead.”

  “Are you supposed to use it? Or wait for them to contact you?” She asked.

  Shrugging, he caught it as she passed it back to him. “Instructions not included.”

  “Sorry.” She winced. “At least the gods here are willing to make moves. If there are any on Earth, they seriously suck.”

  They both shared a chuckle and Greg glanced over at Maeve again. Her tattoos still glowed softly on the freshly shaved sides of her head. For such a scruffy grump, Brannoc was really going above and beyond to take care of her.

  “You’re really close with her, aren’t you?” Autumn asked, tilting her head as she watched him.

  Greg nodded his affirmation to her, before looking back at Maeve. “Told you, she’s like a big sister. I would have never survived the first few months here without her.” He frowned a little, suddenly remembering she hadn’t gone into any detail about how she’d gotten here or her reaction to being on a new planet. He turned to face her more full on. “Not that I doubt you couldn’t do it on your own, blindfolded, with both hands behind your back…but I hope you had help when you got here too.”

  A slow smile crossed her lips. The tiny white pupils focused on him, but this time it didn’t feel like she was judging how much to say. It felt more like she was taking his measure. “Well, you already met Reggie, but there were a few others…”

  Autumn walked him through her first couple of weeks on Etheon. The instant insanity that was getting summoned directly into a temple of Veyru, and immediately tasked with a quest. He’d had a dire start, but there had been a lot of downtime for him to sit and learn from Brannoc and Maeve. Autumn didn’t have that. She’d landed in the frying pan, jumped into the fire, and then somehow landed on the serving platter.

  Just as she started to get into the bit where she’d made her way to the arena, a blinding yellow light shone from his hand as the stone lit up.