[Initiate ping: USER MATTHEW KELMER…]

[USER MATTHEW is not responding.]

[VITAL SIGNS: STABLE]

[Initiate ping: USER TRISTAN ERATO…]

[Connection successful.]

[Transmitting feed…]

There were already a thousand questions clouding Tristan’s head, and a hundred more joined them when Matt disappeared from the tavern.

“What just happened?” He looked around at the girls’ blanched faces. Ara sat closest to him, rotating her jaw as if chewing the event itself. Ceres, the newest warrior to apparently join their ranks, gave Tristan a slight shake of her head.

Jazz stood from her table and sauntered to theirs. Without asking permission, she slid into the seat beside Tristan, forcing him to scoot over. Ara frowned but silently did the same.

“I’ll go check on him,” Keke said, butting her shoulder against Ravyn so she could escape the booth.

“I don’t recommend that,” Jazz replied, twining her fingers together and leaning her elbows on the table. “I can’t imagine he’s in a fit state to speak to any of you.”

“What do you want, bitch?” Ravyn snarled. Tristan flinched. His eyes wandered to the dark red streaks on Jazz’s fingers.

“Ravyn,” Ceres warned.

“No. Fuck that,” Ravyn snapped. “Speak plain, Jazz, or go back to your hole.”

Ceres sat back, recognition flickering in her eyes, and hardened her stare.

Jazz only smiled. “I would think you would all show more compassion to a leader who’d lost six of her tribe.” The smile widened, and Tristan shivered. “Especially when it’s your fault.”

Cannoli, who’d sat watching the exchange with watering eyes and lowered ears, held her blazard close to her chest. Her mouth formed a tiny “o”-shape, and she blinked in confusion. “That…couldn’t be, though,” she murmured in her angelic voice. She looked to Keke, Ravyn, Ara, then Tristan for clarity. “Could it?”

Jazz reached across the table and took a tendril of Keke’s long brown hair between her fingers. “Why did you do it, hm? What is it you’re trying to prove?”

All eyes turned to the [Scout]. Tristan replayed the dangerous walk from Catania to Sorentina again in his head and could tell the others were doing the same. They’d stalked between tall grass and thickets, shying away from uncovered areas. They’d fought the slime and avoided a number of Encroacher nests and Defiled approaches. So, when could Keke have possibly shifted the attention of a monster to another group?

“I-I don’t understand,” Keke stammered.

Ball Gag hopped from Ravyn’s shoulder to Keke’s, snapping his sharp beak in warning mere inches from Jazz’s fingertips.

“Hands to yourself, cunt! Squaaawk!”

“Naughty bird.” Jazz tapped the top of his beak, and the blue parrot yawped in anger. “You threw that rock where Marianne’s group was hiding. You saved your own skins in exchange for six of mine.”

Tristan had seen Keke’s terror when facing the skeleton and the [Necromancer]. How her skin lost its color to the point where her lips turned grey. But the look on her face now was worse than either situation. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes glistened. Her whole body slumped as if the strings holding her up suddenly snapped.

“Keke wouldn’t have done that if she saw them!” Cannoli protested. Buttons nodded his enthusiastic agreement, though Tristan was certain the blazard would agree with anything his master said. “She was just keeping us safe!”

“Oh? Is that all?” Jazz’s smile vanished, replaced by the fearsome facade they’d witnessed their first night in Catania. “Not out of spite? Jealousy, perhaps? As I understand it, Marianne so recently enjoyed the pleasure of his company.”

Keke’s ears flattened, and she shook her head. “No. No, no. I didn’t know. Please,” she begged. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“If only apologies were enough to bring them back,” Jazz mused. “I can’t imagine Matt is taking the death of an unborn kitten well, either.”

“Enough!” Ceres slammed her armored hands against the table, her long braid bouncing against her shoulder. “I trust my Lord and his companions with my life. If Keke says it was unintentional, then it must be true. Your provocations are unnecessary and unwelcome.”

“And what is it that I win in this exchange, hm?” Jazz replied. “From where I’m sitting, the only ones who have gained anything are your allies.”

Silent tears streamed down Keke’s cheeks. Cannoli clasped her shoulder and murmured words of assurance in her ear. Ravyn accepted Ball back to her shoulder and looked behind her in the direction Matt had disappeared. The sounds of comfort and merriment from the other girls grated against their ears.

Tristan traced the familiar shape of Desiree in his lap. Ever since they’d removed him from Venicia’s School of Etiquette, he’d felt out of place and like he’d just entered Nyarlea for the first time all over again. Matt had served as their party leader and face, and right now, he was completely out of the picture. I have to show them I’m not worthless. Matt can’t do this alone.

“You’re right, Jazz. You’ve risked and lost a lot.” The surety of his tone surprised him. Ara’s surprised gaze emboldened him. “But you came here for farmers and foragers, right? And you still have plenty of girls willing to stay.”

“Young Master is correct. There’s still much you can do for Catania. Their deaths will not be in vain,” Ara added.

Ceres clasped her hands together and looked from Tristan to Jazz. “Allow me to clarify. You wish to leave girls here and take ours back with you?”

“Ah, she does listen. Yes, little warrior. We leave a few fighters to train with you and help guard your precious Sorentina in exchange for your knowledge of farming and foraging.”

Ceres frowned. “For lawful purposes, I assume?”

“So, you’ve heard of me,” Jazz laughed. “I’m flattered.”

“Just answer the fucking question,” Ravyn groaned. “This isn’t Nyarlean Court intrigue, for fuck’s sake.”

“None of Sorentina’s people will be subject to anything unlawful. You have my word,” Tristan said.

“And as we all know, Tristan’s word is gold,” Jazz teased.

Tristan locked her gaze. “Jazz. Please.” He’d seen a side of her that he was sure very few had before. All he could do was hope that gave him some weight in the conversation.

Jazz held her silence for a few heartbeats, then relented at last. “Yes. You have my word.”

Tristan sighed in relief. Keke wiped the tears from her cheeks and touched Ravyn’s arm. “Excuse me,” she whispered.

“Yeah. Sure,” Ravyn said, stepping away from the booth to let Keke free. She put a hand on Cannoli’s shoulder and shook her head. “Let her go.”

Cannoli chewed her lower lip, and Tristan couldn’t imagine the war she was fighting with herself. But she conceded to Ravyn and slid back into the booth next to Ceres.

“I’m close with the Captain of the Guard. I can arrange the exchange and have the girls ready in two days,” Ceres continued. “If your girls are comfortable sharing room arrangements, we can split them between the inn and the Guild Hall.”

“We’ve lived in cramped spaces for years. They’ll appreciate the change of scenery, I think,” Jazz said.

That’s an interesting ‘we’ considering your gigantic room, Tristan thought but bit his tongue.

“Right. I will help pay for food and medicine for your injured. The guard should be able to assist me with the remaining bill. And,” Ceres gestured to the tattered garments dangling from Jazz’s lithe body, “we will find you more suitable attire.”

“Back to playing servants, are we? What a glorious day.” Jazz gestured grandly.

“Mattaku! Just thank her, you ungrateful twat!” Ravyn shouted.

It was Cannoli’s turn to flinch.

“Yes. Thank you. Saoirse bless you.” Jazz tapped Ceres’ forehead. A piece of dried blood flecked away and clung to her yellow hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have six rites of death to organize.”

Jazz stepped away from the table and looked over her shoulder one last time. “Oh, I forgot, Happy Cherishing Day.” She smirked and returned to her table. Cannoli carefully plucked the blood from Ceres’ hair.

“Thank you,” Ceres bowed her head toward Cannoli. “She is more terrifying than I ever imagined.”

“I’m surprised Tristan escaped her gross clutches alive,” Ravyn noted.

Tristan blushed. Ara saved him from having to reply.

“I take it the aim was to retrieve you all along?” Ara said, staring straight at Ceres.

“I don’t understand what you are insinuating,” Ceres replied levelly.

“Your comrades dragged us through every hell on this island under the guise of showing the Young Master the poor conditions of the cities.” Ara’s hand moved to one of her daggers’ sheathes. “No one thought to mention that we suffered so Matt could steal another girl from this island?”

“‘Steal another girl?’” Ceres scoffed. “How could you say such a thing after my Lord saved my life?”

“No, Ceres, it’s okay.” Tristan rested a hand on Ara’s wrist and shook his head. “I don’t think the whole thing was a lie, Ara. I needed to see what Shi Island looked like. It’s really bad.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Ravyn spat.

Tristan ignored Ravyn’s comment, focusing only on Ara. “Don’t you think we should fix it?”

Ara paused but dropped her hand away from her weapon. “It is my purpose to ensure your safety.”

“I know. But what do you want?”

Cannoli let Buttons roam free on the table. He dove into a bowl filled with peanuts and wrestled two into his mouth.

“You have some time to decide,” Cannoli said softly. “But the original reason we came here was to find Tristan so all of Nyarlea’s men could meet safely in one place.”

“Why?” Ara asked.

“Because the Defiled are fucking everywhere, and it’s getting worse,” Ravyn supplied. “And as much as I hate agreeing with a waste of good air, the man who suggested it has the right idea.”

Ceres nodded. “A united front will be much more powerful than, well, being locked away in a school.”

“I don’t want that. Ever again,” Tristan said, heated resolve in his words. “I will never close my eyes to this again.”

“Young Master, we must return to Venicia—” Ara began.

“Eventually, yes. But we’ll meet with the others first and then decide where to go from there.” Tristan scratched the back of his neck. “If you’d rather go back alone, I’m sure we can find someone to go with you.”

“No. My place is at your side.”

“Then come with me. Please.”

Ara’s cheeks reddened, and she placed a hand on her chest. “O-of course. You can always count on me.”

“Mou ii,” Ravyn whined. For the first time that afternoon, Cannoli giggled.

Please be okay, Matt. I can’t do this without you.