Contractor was a loaded word.

Whether awe or fear, hatred or envy, disgust or devotion, it was rarely given without some feeling, whether in the saying or the hearing, like dragon, or vampire, or immortal... except of course Contractor was greater and more terrible than these. So then like dungeon, dictator, destroyer... but not quite deity. Contractors were Names, each and every one -- if not before, then certainly after becoming Contractors -- and nobody would deny they were impressive... even if they only impressed how the most powerful and prominent people in the world attained their towering positions climbing over the mountains of corpses they'd created.

But Contractors were also glorified servants. Their servility might be less obvious because they weren't seen bowing and scraping before their masters, but the Contractor followed the dungeon's will, not the other way around. Even Dominus Hellcaller would do as Hellsfell bid. They could be captured and tortured beyond endurance, and their minds might break but never their loyalty -- at least not before the dungeon broke off the Contract -- which strongly suggested said loyalty wasn't entirely natural.

This wasn't like when Nailla had offered to become my familiar. I had done my research on dungeons and, by extension, Contractors. I didn't first think of running back to my books.

All this was to say that I was surprised by Duni's sudden offer. So surprised I didn't freeze up or think of a polite demurral. Instead I just... instinctively, vehemently reacted.

Contract denied.

There was no other answer for me. I wasn't even tempted because... because it was like offering the best slave collar in the world. It could never be worth it unless there was either a ridiculous amount of trust in the master or a total lack of care for the consequences so long as one personally benefited overall.

I wasn't that trusting or uncaring.

But Duni clearly didn't understand, too surprised itself to even feel offended.

I opened and closed my mouth, unsure how or whether to explain.

"A contract?" Bessie said.

"What?" I spun to stare at her. "You can hear it?"

"What?" she repeated, looking back at me blankly. "You just said it offered to make something...?"

There was an awkward pause. Hannah asked with a furrowed brow, "I thought dungeons need Contractors for that?"

I twitched self-consciously. This wasn't confidential or anything, so why was I hesitating to speak up?

...I couldn't think of a logical reason. Swallowing down my unreasonable nerves, I admitted, "It offered to make me its Contractor."

My friends reacted with a normal degree of surprise, or in other words, they froze in utter shock. Even Nailla stilled into a solid statue in my peripheral vision before sputtering, "This... no, this cannot be." I made the mistake of glancing over; her lower face was still red with blood. I quickly looked away again. "Contractors are mighty tyrants! Breakers of waves, splitters of seas!"

"Um," I said, "I didn't accept?"

"Could it really make that offer?" Blake asked. "It's not an Elder Dungeon."

"Developing Guardian, Mature Avatar, Elder Contractor," Bessie agreed. "Isn't it jumping two ahead?"

"Actually," I said, "There has been at least one recorded instance of a Mature Dungeon forced into a Contract. Um... but the Contractor went insane afterwards."

"Sounds like they were insane already!"

"Or insanely desperate," Tom said.

Privately, I agreed. That reminded me of a familiar forcing a master to bond... a disturbingly apt analogy, actually. Which made me think of Nailla, who I had no real control over, and I couldn't help wondering if any Contractor had similarly succeeded at retaining their autonomy... but no, the situations were different.

Still, I was curious now. I really wanted to know everything there was to know of... everything, just like Duni had said. "It keeps managing the unexpected," I mused aloud. "Speaking of which, how?" I awkwardly addressed the Core, though the dungeon was all around us. "How are you growing so quickly?"

"What? But we agreed..." I paused and frowned. "Are you saying this is a secret from everyone else?"

Duni sent with a gleeful thought directed at Nailla especially. It was so... petty.

Truthfully, I didn't mind leaving Nailla out of this discussion. But my friends... I couldn't imagine hearing interesting questions asked one after the other and being excluded from learning the answers; that sounded like a new and special kind of torture. On the other hand, I had agreed to secrecy, and it was my own fault I hadn't even considered them...

No, I had to at least try to renegotiate.

But as I opened my mouth intending to do just that, Blake said, "Can we get these trackers off now? I know you want to keep chatting away with the dungeon, but we do have to go back out there and see if we're wanted criminals."

I flushed. "Oh, sorry."

Ordinarily, our teleport tags would be as good as signed warrants proclaiming our misdeeds, but in the relative safety and security of the dungeon I'd all but forgotten about them. One glance earlier at the complex, compressed weavings had been enough to tell me they weren't coming off anytime soon... and then I'd shelved them in the back of my mind.

Indeed, it took me nearly three hours of painstaking effort to finally disentangle Tom's, a task thankfully made much easier by the many limited alarms I could cheerfully trip without worrying. The last evidence would fade within the week so long as nobody else with the right equipment or Skills came down to this third floor of the dungeon.

I'd thought Duni might try to distract me or react badly to me ignoring it while I worked, but it observed my efforts with apparent interest that didn't waver once over the hours. Nailla likewise seemed content to mostly stare around or examine her commandeered artifact.

My friends, meanwhile, started sparring and exercising and going upstairs out of boredom. I supposed compared to dungeons and water spirits, humans just had short attention spans.

Tom proved the one most capable of patiently sitting still, which was why his tag ended up coming off first. Thank the deities, each of ours was essentially identical, so removing the rest took roughly twenty minutes each. Except my own, which was a bit harder, like unthreading my own clothing... no, my own tattoo.

When I rested and Meditated for a bit after finishing, Duni sent as though continuing an uninterrupted conversation:

I was tired. I wanted to just sit there... but the dungeon had been patient, and [Intermediate Meditation] wasn't disrupted by talking.

"How much do you know of Contractors?" I asked, genuinely curious and also holding off on answering.

Duni sent:

And it was loaded full of meaning. Not in the same way as when the word was normally said, but rather... with possessive intent? Territorial?

Like its Contractor would be a unique extension of itself, maybe. Similar to a new set of rooms and minions, but with extra specialness.

Again, where was this perceived knowledge coming from? But it had answered first and now seemed to be waiting expectantly, so I said, "You understand wanting your freedom, right?"

It felt confused, so I tried again:

It responded promptly:

Ah. I'd observed earlier Duni had drawn a connection between the teleport tags and its bindings; no wonder it had been so interested in watching me remove ours.

"Yours would be a lot harder to remove, since..."

I started to explain, but hadn't we been through this already? It wasn't asking for my sworn word, just for me to try. It just wanted me to help. "I could have a closer look, at least," I offered, "But another time. We need to go."

I didn't even need a reminder this time. The last of the adrenaline from the day's events had well and truly drained away, leaving me exhausted.

"We'll be back."

It was almost disturbing how easily we ducked notice from there.

While I'd been busy scrubbing us clean of evidence, my friends had determined our next steps. We were still wearing our fashionably shady outfits courtesy of Georgina, so rather than teleport back into the Adventurer's Guildhall, we teleported directly to the archery range in Hannah's backyard.

I stretched out my senses on our arrival; the only other people nearby were indoors and unaware of us. Her parents were still out celebrating the final day of spring festivities. (I hadn't asked how much she'd told them, but judging by her relief at finding the place empty... not everything.) A quick change of clothes later and we were unrecognizable as our masked and costumed selves. We left the carrier in their warded workshop, and then... we just strolled outside in broad daylight.

This all seemed a little too easy. Crime did, rather.

"Rena, relax!" Bessie said. "Stop acting so nervous."

"How are you all so calm?" I protested.

"In the beginning, we weren't," Hannah said. "We were a mess."

"Except Bessie," Tom said.

"I was nervous too!" Bessie grinned; I couldn't even tell if she was joking.

"You are treating this as just another quest," I realized.

I didn't need them to tell me I was woefully inexperienced. It felt like it had been such a long day already... but in fact some people were still finishing up a late lunch.

After returning to the Scholar's Quarters, I was one of them. I'd waved away my friends, who'd headed for the Adventurer's Guildhall or out for fun. I couldn't be nearly so blasé; despite my fatigue, as soon as I'd wolfed down my meal I hurried to check the news.

But there was nothing. No mention of a lockdown at a Breeders' facility or hostage-taking or undines. No publicity for Georgina.

I supposed it was still early, and they might be busy scratching their heads at our traceless disappearance, but... I'd thought we'd kicked over a beehive, and yet there was absolutely no buzzing.

Or perhaps I'd spoken too soon. I discovered I'd received a message from Brandon -- not my favorite Tamer, which would be Jeff -- stating he'd been quietly questioned by a contact and truthfully replied he knew of nobody with an undine familiar. Reading between the lines, he seemed to be hinting he'd managed to deflect questions for now but better if he didn't 'know' anything.

Well, that decided my next step for me.

By now severing my bond with Nailla was almost becoming routine. For me, at least; she didn't have the benefit of my [Mind Over Matter]. I could reserve the ritual room, gather the necessary ingredients, ready the spell, and cast all in one sitting.

As the final step, I'd return her to the river to recover faster, just as soon as I judged her stable enough to teleport. But she didn't wait until then to ask: "We are returning for my sisters?"

"Yes," I said, and then felt compelled to add, "If we have a good enough plan. Now they know to expect us..."

"You should have called for me before it was too late. We could have this all settled already!"

I just looked at her tiredly. I didn't have the energy to argue with her, but privately, I thought she might be right. Or maybe, she would have slaughtered those Breeders, like she'd slaughtered Duni's rats, while I was helpless to stop her.

I was trying not to see Nailla as a monster. Technically, she was one, but monster was another strong word. Slap the label onto any creature, and you could call murdering them something else: slaying, purging, clearing, etcetera. You could justify entrapping or enslaving them or worse.

But she had attacked me when we'd first met, toyed with me in what might've been my last moments, and maybe she'd just been too overwhelmingly miserable at the time to enjoy it. This seemed a silly time for second thoughts -- again -- but despite myself, I couldn't help feeling shaken by Serena Beste's betrayal and her ironclad beliefs. Compared to my persisting doubts, she'd been so certain releasing undines was wrong, crazy wrong.

At the same time, I couldn't really say Nailla had done anything definitively wrong, at least not since she'd nearly drowned me in vengeful grief. I felt like a hypocrite for distrusting her mainly because I couldn't control her when I wouldn't be willing to give up control if the situation were reversed. Or so my instant resounding denial of Duni's offer suggested.

I'd have given up on her sisters if I were Nailla. I was rational, or realistic, or cowardly... but I'd have given up.

How could I call her a monster?

"I didn't have time," I said, sighing, in answer to her outward accusatory fury, underneath which I could feel her pain and fear. I supposed I should say something encouraging here, reassuring, even if the weightiest words were at other times so cheap, but I couldn't resist asking: "You managed to contact your sisters somehow?" Instantly, the feeling she gave off shifted, becoming guarded. "Will you tell me how?" I asked nonetheless. "Or what was said?"

She hesitated another moment and then said with affected casualness, "It was not true speech. I simply let them know I was there, so they would know to wait for me."

But I'd gotten better at reading Nailla. She was holding something back, though I didn't think it was out of moodiness or contrariness for once. Of course, that only made me want to know what she was hiding even more, if that was possible.

Honestly, I didn't blame her for her distrust; I was having trouble trusting her too. And that did feel wrong whenever we were bonded, like we were disrespecting our entwined souls. We probably needed another joint session with Healer Bishop.

But not today. I teleported us to the river and then stepped back, saying quietly, "I'm sorry about your sisters."

She stared at me with her dark eyes like deep lightless pools. "You cannot help everyone without hurting anyone."

I knew that. But I just nodded.

"But I will keep your secrets in thanks," she said, and disappeared under.

During my long walk back to the Scholar's Quarters, where I planned to go straight to bed, I considered how much I should tell Healer Bishop. He'd said himself his oath of confidentiality didn't apply when he believed I was a danger to myself or the guild. Of course, as with all words, this was heavily subject to personal interpretation; I had been surprised he'd defined the former to allow my risky endeavor to help Nailla. But I couldn't be sure he'd give me the same leniency regarding the latter, and trying to help Duni would arguably endanger the guild.

Normally, I'd first turn to my mentor when seeking advice, but I remembered how relieved he'd been I'd ended things with Duni. And there was still the issue where he'd report my activities.

All this possibly necessary secrecy had to be a bad sign. If I couldn't safely talk about things with my mentor or my Mind Healer, both of whose good opinions I highly valued... didn't that mean I knew what I was doing was wrong?

I probably would have caved and talked to somebody, but thankfully that was covered. It had been more luck than design that included my friends in my confidentiality contract... but I found I was really, really glad.

"Still no news?" Bessie asked when we regrouped the next morning.

"Nothing," I said. "I could go to the park? No, never mind."

I could just picture stumbling into Serena Beste (even if she shouldn't recognize me), or the wrong person noticing my teleportation, or... "I can send Brandon a return message? Tell him I don't have a familiar, and to feel free to check up on Nailla..."

"Good idea!"

"...but it sounds to me like the Breeders lack any grounds for questioning them..." I started to Scribe the message on the spot: Please keep me apprised of the situation.

"Anybody have anything to add? No? Next order of business," Bessie said, "Duni. Does it realize how bad its odds are?"

"I said, but I think it disbelieves me."

"Good for it." We all looked at her. "What? A defeatist attitude doesn't help anything."

"A realistic attitude," Tom said.

"Sometimes it can be smart to be stupid."

"Not this again." Hannah rolled her eyes. "Rena, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Is this because it almost ate us?"

"There was no almost," Bessie said. "It's too weak right now. Makes you even feel sorry for it, right? But it could become really amazingly scary?"

"It could become... more," I said. "But Hellsfell will never let that happen."

"Never mind that," she said. "Do you want to help it? Even knowing it could become... I don't know, another evil SSS?"

I frowned. "Evil is a loaded word. And politically incorrect."

"Don't be such a Scholar. Question is, what are you doing about Duni?"

"Wait," Tom said, "We haven't done our own votes yet."

I blinked. "Votes?"

"About what we'll do," Bessie said, looking amused. "Like with Nailla. Did you think I decided everything for the whole team?"

"Wait, you voted on that?" I stared around at my friends. "Why didn't I know about it?"

"Because you made your decision already, so ours was just whether to support you. Have you decided? Or do you want to vote with us?" Bessie nodded at my visible hesitation. "If you join a team vote, you don't get to back out if it doesn't go your way. Although," she added after a moment, "You can argue for changed circumstances and a revote."

That sounded... eminently reasonable. And yet, if they voted not to help Duni...

"We did this once with Nailla already," Tom said while I was thinking. "If we vote no, are we choosing for her? Or letting her run into danger by herself?"

"Five makes an odd number," Blake said.

They both had good points, and... I had nobody else I could turn to, anyway. Making up my own mind, one way or the other, felt terrifying, like jumping off a cliff without a safety net. So then maybe I needed this. If I couldn't convince my crazy adventurer friends, I should give up on saving Duni. I felt incapable of such a hard choice myself, but...

"I am willing to vote as a team," I decided.

Bessie's brows shot up. "Really? I thought this was more personal to you."

"It is," I said, "But that does not make it mine alone."

"And you won't do something stupid on your own if we vote no?"

I held her gaze, showing my resolve. "I will abide by the majority decision."

"Alrighty then. I'll go first since I already know my vote?" Wait, what? Already? My heart jumped into my throat, while Bessie just looked around the table, grinning. "I abstain."

I stared at her.

At least everybody else felt similarly disbelieving. "You're abstaining?" Tom said almost accusingly.

"I admit I'm oh so tempted," she said. "It's not every day -- every life -- you stumble over something like Duni, am I right? And trying to save it from the jaws of Hellsfell..." She gave a wistful sigh. "It sounds like the grandest of adventures, like what dreams and legends and Names are made of."

There was a brief pause in which she stared off into the distance, viewing this apparent fantasy.

"But?" Blake drawled.

"But! I'm trying to be more responsible. And I can admit this is one task probably too great for our lowly Skills."

"When even Bessie realizes it's crazy..." Tom shook his head. "I vote no."

Team Multi-Movers did move fast. My heart still beating fast like I was running a race, I said, "I vote yes." It was a clear case of the heart overruling the mind, but my doubts had disappeared as the vote swung away. I'd thought Bessie the one most likely to vote with me. Glancing at Hannah, I added, "Dungeons can be excellent renewable sources for crafting materials. If we ask Duni..."

She eyed me. I could sense her inner turmoil, and sure enough she said, "Abstain. It's just... big rewards, but the risk makes me uncomfortable. Sorry, Rena."

"You're just latching onto Bessie's no-vote," Tom said.

Hannah shrugged, crossing her arms. "So? Do you see how fast Rena's been improving? Some of that's her hard work and special Skill, but it's also the dungeon. I bet we could benefit too if we stick with it."

That left... Blake. My heart sank.

"Yes," he said.

We all looked at him. For a second I wondered if he'd misspoken or I'd misheard.

"What, really?" Bessie said.

"You have to explain this one," Tom said.

"Dungeons just have different reputations where I come from, that's all. They're exploited and hated up here, but down below? I've heard Underworlders bragging about other Underworlders who know B-Ranked minions. This one's already helped with Skills, experience, trackers... and we're the only ones going in. I'm not saying we shouldn't bail if and when it gets too hot, but it'd just be dumb not to see if we can't take more advantage. So, better it live as long as possible."

I smiled in relief. Hannah seemed intrigued, and Bessie of course was excited. Only Tom dissented, sighing in a resigned and long-suffering sort of way.

Perhaps I was biased by the optimistic outcome, but I realized I really liked this voting system. Rather than continue spinning in uncertain circles, we raised any given dilemma just once and then settled it. Maybe if I'd joined the vote regarding Nailla, I wouldn't keep feeling conflicted.

I also loved how it wasn't just my choice anymore. I supposed this might seem contradictory of me, but it didn't feel like I was losing my choice so much as sharing it with my trusted friends. The whole burden no longer fell on my shoulders, freeing me to vote as I wished rather than as was sensible or smart.

And finally, I felt more like part of the team. They'd agreed not to call me in for quests unless they could really use my help (or I spontaneously sprouted some free time), which hadn't yet happened since I'd gained Silver. I knew they didn't blame me for my absence, but... well, I didn't really feel like a Multi-Mover. Yet.

"Should we move this talk into Duni?" Bessie was saying. "Anything you don't want it to overhear?"

We all shook our heads, so I went to send my letter to Brandon before we regrouped outside the teleportation room.

Bessie looked amused when she saw me. "You're bringing a book?"

"Not for me," I said. "I want to see if Duni can read. You're bringing... barbells?"

"It likes when we sweat, right?" Tom said.

Hannah arrived, so I looked to where Blake was hiding, and then we headed inside. I first tried teleporting us directly to Duni's third floor...

...and to my surprise, succeeded. The room was still empty but for the Core, and I thought the overall mana density even less than before.

"Hello, Duni," I said, and Bessie cheerfully repeated after me. After a beat, Hannah and Tom followed suit.

Duni wasn't so polite:

"Um... you mean Nailla? The undine? No, she isn't here."

I felt its satisfaction and tried not to show my exasperation, though I supposed the dungeon could feel it anyway. Reminded by Tom and its evidently low mana, I set down my book and started Running around the room, letting Bessie do the initial talking.

"Good news, dungeon!" she said. "We've agreed to help you."

"If we can," Tom said.

"If you can be helped. How much do you know of the situation?"

"Not much," I translated.

"Why don't we explain? Lucky you are a smart dungeon, I'm sure this will be--"

I gasped, loudly, startling everybody present. But I was too busy hurrying back to my starting position and staring around. My friends also looked around, seeing nothing... which was the problem.

"Did you..." I tried to keep calm, but my voice perhaps emerged a bit shrilly. "Duni, did you eat my book?"