“Can I ask a favor?” Aster said quietly as we strode toward the road and the embattled wagon, where Mr. Auldmaer was now clambering back and forth atop his wagon, looking for a position from which he might be able to jump over the fire slimes encircling it. I’d been careful not to leave him one, even had he been a much more athletic specimen than he looked. Biribo poked his head out of the pocket of her coat in which she’d made him a nest of cloth scraps, but then ducked back inside.

“Of course,” I replied, hoping she wouldn’t take my terse tone personally. I was still trying to push down a rising tide of self-recrimination over using my horror spell on an innocent person, and also mentally rounding up errant slimes (normal, non-fire ones) to make them ooze across the burning grass. They did not like that, but their gooey bodies were successfully stifling the flames wherever I could coerce them into doing it.

“It’s just, uh…” She frowned, recollecting her thoughts, and tried again. “I understand the strategic realities we’re dealing with and I’m no stranger to having to make hard choices. No condemnation. But…and I’m sorry for how awful this sounds…please try to keep feeling terrible.”

I gave her an incredulous look; she ducked her head self-consciously but continued.

“When you have to do terrible things, I mean. When I saw how much you hated it, I felt a lot better about agreeing to work for you, Lord Seiji. We all have to do things we’d rather not, and you’ll no doubt have to do worse. Just…please try not to get used to it. Anything can start to feel normal if you do it enough. I…don’t want you to lose the decent person you’ve got inside there somewhere. I know I’m asking you to make life harder on yourself, and I’m sorry. If you’ll try, I promise I’ll do my best to support you.”

Well, I had not been expecting a heart to heart moment this early in our relationship, and particularly not now of all bloody times. This was not helping my tenuous control over the slimes.

“I would hope that I’d try to do that anyway,” I said after considering for a moment. “I’ll do my best, Aster. We’ll see. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I very much fear everything’s going to get worse from here.”

“It will,” she said softly. “In some ways. In others, it’ll get better. That’s just how life works.”

Auldmaer had given up on his attempted escape, I think in part because he’d seen us. The man now sat down on the driver’s bench at the front of his wagon, turned to face us with his arms folded as he waited for us to cross the half-burned field. He wasn’t waving or calling for help, either; I guess it made sense a man clever enough to run his own trading company would immediately realize the unprecedented slime attack had not been a natural phenomenon.

“I realize it’s probably too late to matter, but are you certain about this?” Aster muttered, and I suspected she was as glad as I was for a change of topic. “Your whole plan falls apart if this guy turns out to be a man of principle.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s a professional merchant, Aster.”

“People are more complex than you think, Lord Seiji.”

“No, they are not. People are selfish, aggressive animals who grudgingly cooperate with others when it benefits them and for no other reason. There is exactly one human being in existence, copied and repeated billions of times with minor cosmetic variations and always some degree of delusion that they are a unique and beautiful snowflake.”

She sighed. “Why do I feel like my life would be a lot easier if you had ever been hugged as a child?”

“That’s crossing a line, Aster.”

Much as I did not want to have my childhood or family on the table as topics of discussion I’d aimed for a neutral tone, but I guess the strain of trying to control two different groups of slimes while walking and carrying on a conversation put an edge in my voice that she misinterpreted.

“I apologize, Lord Seiji,” Aster said, her tone and expression suddenly blank; she stared straight ahead, avoiding my gaze, and actually made that Fflyr folding hands gesture, the first time I’d seen it from her. “It’s not my place.”

Great. Something else to feel terrible about.

Freshly burned field grass crunched under our boots as we reached the ditch. Aster hopped nimbly over to the edge of the road, and I followed suit. No doubt not as athletically as she, but it wasn’t far enough to make me stumble, at least.

“And a fine morning to you,” Mr. Auldmaer called, raising a hand in greeting. In contrast to all his yelling and gesticulating when he had people to command, he now seemed quite poised. Obviously an act, but it reflected well on him that he could pull it off. “Do forgive me for not coming to shake your hand, but…well.” He gestured pointedly at the fire slimes now forming a burning moat around his wagon. The two dhawls hitched in front of him were pressed together now, snorting and stomping their clawed feet in displeasure.

“Yes, this does look inconvenient,” I said gravely. “Allow me.”

Making a hand gesture was completely unnecessary to move the slimes, as they responded to mental command, but I did it anyway because showmanship matters. With a broad sweep of my arm, a path opened up in the ring, fire slimes oozing over each other to form a gap.

“Well, then,” he said in a sardonic tone that barely managed to conceal the bitterness underneath, “it’s not as if I don’t know, but civilized people must observe the proprieties. To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Master…?”

“You may call me Lord Seiji,” I said, pausing at the head of his team of animals. The two dhawls shifted away from me and I considered their condition. They were famously placid beasts and these in particular would be well used to people; they must be awfully worked up if they were even this skittish.

Tame Beast. Tame Beast.

Both animals calmed noticeably, letting out heavy sighs of relief as I reached up to scratch their heads. They had rough, almost scaly skin on their triangular heads, but it definitely wasn’t actual scales despite the reptilian shape of their skulls, just rough skin not unlike a toad’s. The thick hair which covered them everywhere except on their faces and feet reminded me of a yak’s.

“And you, of course,” I continued, turning back to the merchant who was watching me now with a quizzical frown, “are Master Cadimer Auldmaer, heir to the Auldmaer Trading Company. My condolences on your father’s recent passing, sir.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Lord Seiji, but I have had three years to become used to his absence.” He glanced at Aster, eyed her up and down, and then seemed to dismiss her as muscle, which I privately appreciated. So far my worries that people would mistake Aster for arm candy had gone unrealized, but then, Auldmaer had also employed a female adventurer to lead his caravan guards. “It is probably pointless to ask, but I wonder if you’d indulge me with the knowledge of which of my employees has been leaking information? As a courtesy, since you do appear to appreciate them.”

“And in that spirit I would, if I could,” I replied, “but sadly I’ve no idea. The details of your work are available to anyone with coin to spend and access to certain…unconventional markets.”

“Oh, not so unconventional,” he sighed. “The merchant houses at least all keep tabs on one another’s doings. Why, my company is too small to be considered competition by the most important names even on Dount, but I can obtain their shipping itineraries for the cost of a good meal at the Guild hall. I do say it’s poor form to peddle trade information outside the fraternity of merchants,” he added sourly.

“No offense intended, sir, but yours is not a profession known for its deep foundations in ethics.” I glanced pointedly at Aster, who pretended she didn’t notice.

Auldmer wasn’t even offended. “Oh, to be sure, but there are certain norms. What passes between fellow members in the trade isn’t meant to involve outside players, otherwise it would lead to all but open warfare with companies hiring their own bandit gangs and bribing guards to seize shipments… That kind of nonsense has eviscerated entire economies, led to famines and refugee crises and worse. Extremely unprofitable. I suppose,” he added with another sigh, “if I’m being sold out to the likes of yourself—no offense, my lord—the name of Auldmaer has fallen so far that the other companies don’t even see me as one of them any longer. Well! I do appreciate you taking the time to indulge me in civilized conversation, Lord Seiji. It is a rare virtue in your profession.”

“Not at all, it’s my pleasure. I firmly believe that life is unpleasant enough without needless rudeness. If one must conduct unpleasant business, it behooves us to make it less so, not more.”

Aster half-turned her head to give me one of those richly expressive Aster looks. This time it was my turn to ignore her.

“Well said,” Auldmaer replied, reaching behind himself into the wagon. Aster tensed, her hand moving toward the handle of her sword, but what he pulled out was a bottle and two cups. “In that spirit, allow me to offer you a spot of hospitality before we conclude your business.”

“Why, how very gracious of you,” I said magnanimously. “I’ll be pleased to accept.”

“Splendid.” He set the cups on the other side of the bench from us, where they were hidden from my view by his leg, and began prying loose the cork. “This is a bottle from my private stock—not the finest of vintages, I’m afraid, simply because I wouldn’t bring one of those on a cargo run. But one does like to carry along a few little creature comforts even out in the wilderness. And in my view, comforts are better enjoyed in the company of someone else who appreciates the finer points of living.”

While Auldmaer chattered on, he poured wine into both cups, still with his body positioned so that I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, the spiel no doubt intended to hold my attention. Aster frowned at me and when his head was turned attending to that, nodded toward him and opened her mouth to speak. I held up a hand and winked at her. To judge by her expression, she didn’t find that terribly reassuring, but stayed silent.

“To your health,” the merchant said as he handed me one of the cups, lifting the other.

“Kanpai,” I replied, repeating the gesture, and taking a deep sip of the wine.

And then a second. I’ve never been a connoisseur, but this was good stuff. Sweeter than I was expecting, and very rich—fortified, I suspected. Full of the kind of complex flavors I would probably be able to list off the components of if wine tasting wasn’t empirically proven to be a crock of shit.

“Oh, that is excellent,” I said, not having to fake a smile. “Worth the trip for this alone. Aster, care to try?”

“Thank you, Lord Seiji, but I’ll pass,” she said quite pointedly.

“I’m glad you approve,” said Auldmaer, seeming genuinely pleased at my reaction. “The family estates aren’t what they once were, but the old grounds do contain a very well-built winehouse, which I have taken pains to keep suitably stocked.”

“Ah, yes,” I nodded, pausing to take another sip. “I’m given to understand that but for a twist of fate in your father’s generation, I would be addressing Lord Cadimer of Clan Auldmaer. Alas, a random activation of recessive genes made for an unbroken sequence of siblings without so much as a lock of blonde hair between them, and thus, the loss of noble title and privileges.” I paused for another sip of the really delicious wine, noting the way his expression had gone hard. “As you can probably tell, I’m a new arrival here in Fflyr Dlemathlys. With apologies for the disrespect to your culture, sir, that has to be the single stupidest damn thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“I am Fflyr born and bred,” he said carefully. “A loyal subject of the King and a devout follower of the Convocation. It is certainly not the place of a humble lowborn such as myself to challenge the dictates of the goddess, nor even her mortal representatives upon Ephemera. Still… I would be lying, and I suspect not convincingly so, if I did not admit to having had the same thought upon occasion, Lord Seiji.”

“As well you should,” I agreed. “Rules like that are always ascribed to the goddess, who I suspect would be very surprised to learn she had ever made such decisions. Ah, pardon me for a moment. Heal.”

I wasn’t feeling anything yet, but it was probably best not to wait too long anyway. Pink light flared around my body and Auldmaer jerked back in surprise, nearly spilling his wine.

“Apologies for the interruption,” I said in my most pleasant tone. “As it happens, I am allergic to poison. Not to impugn your hospitality, good sir; clearly you could not have known.”

Holding his gaze, I took a long, deliberate sip of the poisoned wine. Sometimes, a Dark Lord has to indulge in a blatant power move, and subtlety be damned.

Auldmaer’s shoulders slumped and he set his own cup down on the bench. “Right. Well, that’s that, then. I hope you won’t begrudge a fellow the attempt.”

“Oh, on the contrary. If you didn’t have the wit and spine to try something of the sort, I’d be much more hesitant to go into business with you. In fact, I’m glad to see you both made preparations in advance and can think on your feet.”

But not think too quickly; his desperate gambit had notably lacked a means of dealing with Aster. That was exactly how I liked my shady business partners: clever enough to be useful, not so much that I needed to be intimidated by them.

“Business?” He still looked understandably wary, but also visibly perked up. I had, after all, said the magic word.

“Of course! Or did you think I wouldn’t realize all these effusive pleasantries were meant to stall me long enough for your fleeing employees to bring help? I doubt our conversation will take long enough regardless, but even if it does, I suspect by that point the Clansguard would find you happily introducing me as a helpful passerby out hunting with his bodyguard who stopped to aid you when this…most peculiar natural phenomenon stalled your caravan.”

I made another wide gesture, and all the fire slimes began oozing out of their positions, sliding down the slope of the ditch into the brackish standing water below. Steam and constant hissing plops began to emerge as they snuffed themselves out en masse.

“I…see,” Auldmaer mused, watching this. “Forgive me, Lord Seiji, I took you for a bandit.”

“That is not exactly correct, but close enough I don’t consider it worth quibbling over. Suffice it to say I am able and willing to stop a trade caravan if I find a need. You’ll have observed this, of course—and also that I favor unconventional methods, keeping bloodshed to a minimum, and in general not disrupting the lives of others any more than I must.”

“Well, you may consider me interested—and not just because I don’t have a choice. So, you are a…let’s say, genteel sort of bandit? A bandit lord?”

“Hmm, that does have a ring to it, doesn’t it, Aster?”

“A most prestigious title, Lord Seiji,” she said, deadpan.

“Why, then, would you choose me?” Auldmaer asked. “Clearly you have done your research.”

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong since I’m stepping into your field here, but it seems to me the best business relationship is one of mutual advantage, right? One in which two parties have needs which can each be filled by filling each other’s.”

“In the best of circumstances, yes,” he said with a faint smile. “Business does tend to get more…confrontational, sometimes. Not as much as banditry, but… Actually, on occasion, about as much, yes.”

I nodded. “Precisely my point. You mentioned how the trading companies keep track of one another’s movements, yes? I’ve no doubt there’s a great deal of financial maneuvering based around knowing who is selling what, where, when, and to whom? There must be a thousand ways for an enterprising fellow such as yourself to profit if one has the right information.”

“I suspect you don’t know the half of it,” he said dryly.

“And it therefore follows that if you, and you alone, know that a certain caravan is not going to reach its destination, you could profit considerably more, at the expense of your competitors.” I paused for effect, watching his eyebrows rise. “And, for added benefit, imagine if some of the contents of such vanished caravans found their way into your warehouses, to be discreetly sold at your leisure.”

“You are…proposing that I hire you?” Auldmaer drew in a deep breath, frowning. “Without addressing whether or not I might be interested, Lord Seiji, mine is a small company—one which has gambled nearly its entire assets, perhaps its very existence, on a load of trade goods which you now see stalled on the road. Just based on the caliber of magic I have seen you use, and presuming I’ve seen barely a fraction, something tells me I can’t afford you.”

“Exactly. To answer your earlier question—why I chose you—it’s because you and I are in similar situations: we both have a long way to climb. A smaller company with ambitions has everything to gain and comparatively little to lose, right? I’m in the same situation. You need an advantage that will let you play the game at the same level as the big syndicates, raking in the kind of profits they do without facing the same risks. I need an insider, someone who can direct me to the right targets—both those whose elimination will advance his interests, and those which might contain particular supplies I need. I may also need help from time to time acquiring or selling off various specific assets through discreet but non-violent channels, just as you may find it advantageous to have certain opponents removed from the board. You see my drift?”

Slowly, he nodded, frowning into the distance over my head and massaging his chin with one hand. It was an expression I related to—not only mulling the costs and benefits of this kind of business, but grappling with the stickier implications. I, for my part, suspected I was even less sanguine than the merchant about going into such dealings. Unlike him, I didn’t have a choice. Either I got more comfortable with forcing my will onto others quickly, or I was going to end up Virya’s plaything while she abducted someone more psychopathic from Japan to stick a sword in poor Yoshi.

“You would need to hit some of my shipments now and again,” he mused, “and those of my business partners and allies.”

“Obviously,” I agreed. “Giving the Auldmaer Company special treatment would be painting a target on it. In fact, we could potentially do that to someone else, if there’s a given company you’d like the authorities to be motivated to investigate. Don’t worry—as you’ve seen, I can make this bloodless, for the sake of your personnel. At worst, they’ll be inconvenienced.”

Inconvenienced, and in some cases traumatized. For a moment I had to work to control my expression as an echo of the adventurer’s scream sounded in my ears.

“Oh, well,” he said with a little chuckle, “if anything, you may have shaved a nice chunk off my overhead, Lord Seiji. Teamsters who abandon their cargo get a deep pay cut; guards who run from the first conflict don’t get paid at all. Not to mention that the Clan Yldyllich toll comes with a guarantee of safe transit. Not only will I get refunded for this, I bet the Clan will pay me off to keep this quiet. Assuming you’re not actually planning to rob my cargo, you’ve actually saved me money.”

“Luxury fabrics, right?” I glanced back at the line of covered wagons, still hitched to patient dhawls standing in the road. “No offense, but I’m not even tempted. You should definitely pay your adventurer, though.”

“Larinet?” Great, now I knew her name. I didn’t want to know her name—which was exactly why I deserved to. “A Blessed guard who runs from battle is no different from the mundane kind, it’s just a higher wage she’s chosen not to receive.”

“You saw what happened to her, didn’t you? Never mind, I can see from your face that you did. A professional merchant is doubtless well-skilled at schooling his expression, but there aren’t many people who can see something like that and not be affected. Now imagine what it must be like to live through. You wouldn’t want someone working for you who could suffer that and not break, Mr. Auldmaer. Such a person would be too insane to be trustworthy. If she were my employee I’d give her hazard pay.”

I caught Aster looking at me sidelong. The merest hint of a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth, just for a second.

“Perhaps,” Auldmaer allowed. “Will she… She had enough energy to run, but I’ve never seen Larinet crack like that. Is she going to be all right?”

“Physically? Better than ever. There’s a touch of healing magic in that spell.”

He blinked, twice, his face lengthening as he parsed the implications. “That is…almost impressively sadistic, Lord Seiji.”

I nodded; there was no point in deflecting that accusation. “If you’re dealing with people accustomed to violence? To avoid the necessity of killing sometimes requires an exercise in cruelty. No doubt some would disagree, but I consider it worth the tradeoff or I wouldn’t do it. A traumatized person can recover. A corpse can’t do anything but feed the worms.”

He leaned back from me on the bench, his expression thoughtful more than disturbed now. Picking up his abandoned cup, Auldmaer took a sip of wine, which prompted me; I had another drink of my own, then cast Heal again.

“I can’t believe I’m seriously considering this,” Auldmaer said at last, “but goddess help me, I am…interested. And right after I lectured you on the perils of trade wars, too.”

“There is not going to be a war, trade or otherwise.” I’ve never been a very good liar, but it turns out it’s a lot easier to say something with confidence if it’s something you also desperately want to believe. “Provided we are patient, careful without being timid, and above all smart, there will be a…consolidation. A new merchant lord of Dount, and a bandit king. That, I assure you, is going to happen. The only question is whether you are the one to profit most from this, or simply another bystander.”

“Or a loose end you need to tie up?” he said pointedly.

“I am taking the gamble that you’re an intelligent enough man to seize the opportunity before you,” I replied, just as pleasant and polite as any Japanese businessman offering threats of ruin if he’s not complied with. “I am absolutely confident you are intelligent enough not to cross me, whatever else happens. Not after you’ve seen me so vividly demonstrate my means of discouraging enmity.”

He met my eyes, and studied me. Openly, now. I saw neither fear nor avarice in that gaze, though I knew I’d inspired both, but the cold calculation of a merchant weighing the benefits and costs, the risks against the reward.

“Most utility goods passing through Dount are just that,” Auldmaer said abruptly, “passing through. Clan Aelthwyn and the King both make a handsome profit on tariffs from those, but Dount provides much of the kingdom’s agriculture, and receives dungeon goods from Fflyrdylle in turn. There’s little demand for imported food or basic supplies here. International trade to and from Gwyllthean is nearly all in luxury goods. The particular khora biome on this island provides a number of rare assets which are difficult to gather and exist only in a few places, and the local nobility are both rich as a result, and hungry for fineries to flaunt at each other. This,” he half-turned on the wagon seat to gesture broadly at the stalled caravan behind himself with one arm, “is a load of shimmersatin from Savindar by way of Godspire. Savindar,” he added, seeing my blank expression, “is a dark elf nation far to the northwest, only recently opened to trade thanks to Godspire’s expanded neutrality laws. Until recently—as in, this year—the only goods from Viryan nations seen by the Dountol nobility were rare contraband from Shylverrael, just on the other side of our own khora forest. Given the difficulty of passing that stuff through both dark and light elf sanctions, it all costs much more than international shipments and carries the risk of severe punishment from both the Kingsguard and the Convocation temple knights if you’re caught with it.”

“So you’re introducing a new commodity to market,” I said. “Impressive. That sounds immensely profitable. It must’ve been quite a coup to position yourself to benefit from this.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his tone grim despite the words. “In the merchant trade, timing is everything. By being the first to market, I can set my own prices—until the competition moves in. And this time, I gambled and…well, I haven’t lost yet, but only on a bare technicality. The Crown Rose Company is one of the biggest based in Fflyr Dlemathlys, and they caught wind of my gambit and are this close to ruining me.” He held up his finger and thumb barely a centimeter apart. “Crown Rose have Blessed, and not just adventurers for caravan guards. Some of their Blessed with Magic know rare spells that enable their wagon trains to move faster; they even have Blessed with Wisdom who can sniff out competitors’ secrets. I’m almost certain that was what doomed my enterprise. And they’ve got sufficiently deep pockets to buy in enough bulk to get goods at a discount, which means selling at lower prices and still turning a handsome profit. A Crown Rose caravan five times the size of mine reached Godspire right before we left, and they’ve been gaining on us all the way back to Dount. By the last information I bought, they’ll be in Gwyllthean by tomorrow.”

“So,” I said slowly, “you have one day in which to make as much money as you can, at whatever price you can get, before the contents of these wagons becomes worthless.”

“Oh, not worthless,” he said with a bitter laugh, “I’m sure Crown Rose themselves will happily buy it from me at less than cost. My entire company’s assets are on the line here, Lord Seiji—if I can have the grace period I was counting on to be the sole supplier to the Gwyllthean nobility, it’ll put the Auldmaer Company back on the map. The Highladies will gladly pay through the nose to be the only members of their singing circles dressed in shimmersatin. If I’m beaten to market…well, my company is dead, and it’ll only be through some desperate wrangling of my own that I evade debtor’s jail. Much as I’m tempted to mention that my caravan is now sitting idle on the road in the middle of nowhere thanks to you, the truth is I was all but certainly beaten before you made yourself a factor. Crown Rose had plentiful ties with the nobility; they not only have buyers lined up, but rumor circulating among them that’ll prevent most from buying at the prices I need to ask.”

He drew in a shaking breath, holding my gaze.

I smiled, and sipped the poisoned wine. “Say the word.”

“Nightlady take me,” Auldmaer breathed. “They say a man never knows whether he’d take a devil’s deal until one appears before him. Well, today I learn the weight of my soul. Get me out of this, Lord Seiji, and I’m willing to be greedy alongside you in the future. But first, I need to survive. You’ve cornered a desperate man.”

I kept my smile small and polite with an effort, not revealing my triumph or relief. The truth was I’d be nearly as fucked as he if this didn’t work out, not least because I owed Maugro money for the full rundown on Auldmaer’s caravan. I’d paid the goblin (on credit) for the name of a smaller company with the owner or someone who could make decisions actually present in a caravan I could intercept; Auldmaer’s desperate situation was a pure bonus for me. And sure, this meant I was going to have to take on a much bigger target with much better defenses, but the cold hard truth was that I could inflict far more damage if I wasn’t holding back and being gentle.

More than surviving the hurdle right in front of me, this marked a turning point. By securing an income stream and necessary connections, I would make the transition from stumbling around reacting to things I didn’t understand to moving forward with plans of my own. Next step was acquiring an army, and I had an idea of where to get one that no one would notice until too late.

“Just tell me where to find them, and when,” I said. “Your people should be back with Yldyllich Clansguard…oh, I’d say within an hour, at the most. You can still make Gwyllthean by tonight. And as for the Crown Rose’s shipment… Well, this shimmersatin stuff is fabric, right? I assume it is flammable.”