I pulled out a silver medallion, engraved with a cobalt sigil, which the on-duty floor attendant had given me. It buzzed in my palm with a subtle, barely felt energy. I’d had to prick my finger and smear a drop of blood against the rune, which immediately disappeared into the metal. Each medallion was unique, paired to a Vigil’s private chambers, and then attuned to a specific user so that no one else could gain access to their lodgings. Turned out that Vigils were a paranoid bunch who really valued their privacy.

A sentiment I could appreciate.

I pressed the medallion against an unremarkable ironwood door. There was a barely audible click and when I pushed the door swung inward on silent hinges.

My new digs were located on the fourth floor in the eastern wing of the fortress. The Residence Hall had a total of nine levels; the first held the public baths, a large common room, a small kitchen, and a few other basic amenities. Each class had their own floor and I learned there was also a penthouse level with accommodations for the Exarch and the Custodians. Even though I was still low on the Vigil Bound totem pole, my rooms were nicer than any place I’d stayed so far.

Hell, they were nicer than my barracks room back at Pendleton and it blew away the condemned squad bay that we’d called home in Iraq. There was a large, well-appointed sitting area with a leather chair, a wooden desk, several bookcases, and a large fireplace that crackled and roared with a heat, banishing the wintery chill that had crept into the stone walls. Separated from the sitting room by a pair of open French doors was a bedroom, complete with a wooden, four-post bed, a large wardrobe, an armor stand, and a weapon rack.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” a high-pitched voice squeaked.

“You’ve got the be shitting me,” I muttered.

Sitting in the center of the bed was the great orange furball, Sir Jacob-Francis, and lounging beside him was Renholm. We were on the fourth floor in a secured fortress, behind a door locked with potent magic, and somehow the pixie had still found a way in. It was as impressive as it was annoying. Even more annoying? Cal was there too, sprawled out in a high-backed velvet chair.

“I was starting to get bored,” Renholm said, slowly sitting up. “The specter is bland company without you.” He leaned forward and cupped a hand around his mouth. “I suspect he may be touched in the head. Was he dropped on his skull as a small child? Perhaps repeatedly?”

“It’s like you’re not even trying to whisper,” Cal said, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at the pixie.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Renholm confided, “he actually believes that I care what he thinks, a sure sign of head trauma.”

I snorted.

Cal ignored the pixie’s dig. “How’d the trial go?” he asked.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Renholm drawled. “Bland and stupid. Clearly, he survived, or else he wouldn’t be standing here. Plus, they upgraded us to accommodations that befit our station, which must also be a good sign.” He craned his head back. “I don’t offer praise lightly, but I will concede this is vastly superior to the pig troughs you’ve been staying in since Ironmoor. Certainly not as richly appointed as my quarters in the Oblivion Court, but much more spacious. Good leg room.”

I reached out a hand and pst-pst-psted at Sir Jacob-Francis. The huge tom stared at me with unimpressed golden eyes, tail flicking back in forth as he silently judged me. Finally, the cat chirped, apparently finding me a worthy subject of his affections, and lightly leapt from the bed, entwining himself through my legs. I bent and scooped him up, holding him in one arm while I ruffled his head with my free hand. The cat purred like a motorboat in appreciation.

“How the hell did you two get in here anyway?” I asked. “The floor attendant implied that these places are the next best thing to impossible to break into.”

Cal shrugged. “That’s just one of the many advantages of not being shackled to a meat suit. I can’t eat or drink. The world is a gray blur and life largely feels meaningless and empty... Also, whenever I try to sleep, an inexplicable sense of existential dread slowly spreads through my whole body. But hey, I can walk through walls and my irritable bowel syndrome is all cleared up, so I have that going for me.”

“Are… Are you okay, man?” I asked.

“What?” he said, seeming to come to his senses. “Yeah. Totally. Being a spirit is fine.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you got in here,” I said, looking at the pixie. “Especially with a cat.”

“Please,” Renholm replied, rolling his eyes, “there is not a lock made or a prison strong enough to contain the power of the Fae. Especially not a monarch of his own court.”

“Except a birdcage,” I said, thinking back to the dilapidated wire cage I’d discovered him in.

“Don’t be a crass, ignorant slut,” he replied with a sniff. “Your pettiness is unbecoming and reflects poorly on your character. You and I both know I was on the cusp of escaping from that damnable Crave Ghoul prison. Now, if we are done casting foolish and patently untrue aspersions, you were telling us about the outcome of your legal troubles? Which, let me be clear, I only care about because they also pertain to me.”

God, but he was a world-class butthole. With a disgruntled sigh, I quickly rehashed the trial and ensuing fallout—including my impending partnership with Kerra.

“You’re into her, aren’t you,” Cal said, more statement than question as I finished talking.

“No,” I replied evenly. “She’s just the best trainer they have. Why would I settle for less?”

“Right, yeah. No, I totally get that,” Cal said. “The fact that she’s smoking hot has nothing to do with it.”

“Speaking of the She-Devil,” Renholm said, “she brought your effects up while you were away.” He waved a little hand toward the footlocker.

I shuffled over and propped up the lid.

Sure enough, piled inside were the items that had been confiscated from me when Kerra and the others had arrested me back at the Twisted Pig. A spare Mortka forged dagger—great for skinning game—and my bag of coins and Affinity Scales. I glanced through the contents but found everything in place, minus a couple of Scales and a Crave Ghoul Transformation Token. The aftermath of the Bear fight, I had no doubt. But that wasn’t all. There was also a large stack of items with a note perched on top.

As promised, your share.

—Kerra

I grinned, set the note on a nightstand, then dove into all the loot I’d missed out on. First up was a small leather coin purse filled with a mix of Disciple and Adept Class Affinity Scales and a single Master Level Elder Fell Bear Transformation Token.

>>

Rabid Affinity Scale

Type: Refined Hunger Affinity

Class: Adept

Ability: Consume

Primary Effects:

When consumed directly, Rabid Affinity enhances the user’s strength and speed, temporarily increases Verve by 2 points, and unlocks the passive ability Infectious Rage. When the user lands a melee attack, the target has a 10% chance of contracting Infectious Rage. When afflicted, the target flies into a blind rage attacking anything in range, including its own allies. Patient Zero: When an enemy inflicted with Infectious Rage hits any subsequent target with a melee attack, there is a 5% chance of spreading Infectious Rage. Channel Rabid Affinity into a metaphysical focal point, imbuing the item with unique benefits for a limited duration. Note: The strength and duration of the effect is directly proportional to the quality of the Scale consumed.

>

Transformation Token

Type: Elder Fell Bear

Class: Master

Ability: Consume

Primary Effects:

Consume Elder Fell Bear Transformation Token to temporarily polymorph-self into the form of an Elder Fell Bear; duration, 10 minutes.

Restrictions:

Must have the Totem Transformation Ability to activate this Transformation Token.

>

I’d never come across Rabid Affinity before, but it was fucking awesome.

The physical buffs seemed to mimic the effects of my Matchless Endurance ability, but the real prize was the Infectious Rage ability. I could easily envision using the Scale against a large group of Mortka, infecting one, then watching as the disease spread like wildfire and all the monsters lost their collective minds and slaughtered each other in the pandemonium that followed. As for the Transformation Token, who the hell wouldn’t want to transform into a giant demon grizzly bear for ten minutes?

There were also a bunch of raw fabrication ingredients tucked into a canvas sack that I could use to craft new weapon and armor skins: [8 x Raw Silver Ore, Fabrication Ingredient], [2 x Iceblood Ore, Fabrication Ingredient], [3 x Mortka Horn (Adept), Fabrication Ingredient], [1 x Mortka Horn (Master), Fabrication Ingredient], [4 x Mortka Steel Ore, Fabrication Ingredient], [1 x Elder Fell Bear Pelt, Fabrication Ingredient]. The pelt—thick leather hide covered in coarse white fur—was folded up neatly like a throw blanket. It would make an awesome cloak or would serve as fantastic lining for some of my armor.

I had to guess that bear pelt was great for blocking out the cold.

The last item was a pair of badass white-fur bracers studded with yellowed bear fangs. Basically, the Viking version of Batman’s gauntlets. I turned them over in my hands and inspected the teeth-like protrusions. The outer portion of each tooth had been honed to a razor-sharp edge while there were rough serrated notches on the inside of each tooth. Curious. I slipped them on and tightened the leather straps. They fit perfectly, as though they’d been crafted just for me, and I had no doubt that the teeth on the outside would fuck some shit up if I got in close enough to use them.

>>

Fell Bear Sword Breaker Gauntlets

Type: Medium, Leather

Class: Adept

As light and flexible as the supplest of leathers, these Gauntlets are strong enough to turn even the sharpest blade. When used properly, the serrated spikes on the outer edge of the gauntlet can also be employed as a traditional Sword Breaker—a weapon used to trap an enemy’s blade and disarm them in the process. Those truly skilled in the use of Sword Breaker Gauntlets have even been known to snap sword blades entirely.

>>

“Dude, those are fucking wicked. Like Viking Batman gauntlets,” Cal said, seeming to read my mind. There was a reason we were best friends.

“Right?” I dropped into a boxer’s stance and took a couple of swipes. They were a little restrictive, and those spikes would take some getting used to—I could see them getting accidentally snagged on my gear if I wasn’t careful.

“There’s one other little thing I didn’t mention.” I pulled the gauntlets off and dropped them back into the footlocker. “I got a bounty. Looks like Wildespell has a monster problem of its own.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Cal said. “This is a literal city full of monster hunters. How do they have a Mortka problem?”

“My thoughts exactly,” I replied, “and whatever is dicking around here is dangerous because its last victim was a Vigil.”

The pronouncement seemed to suck all the air out of the room. I could feel Cal tense and even Renholm looked a little worried. Or not. That might’ve been my imagination.

“I’m sorry,” Cal said, hunching forward, forearms resting against his thighs, “but dude, how in the hell is that our problem? We’ve been in this world for like two months and inside this city for like two hours. If I had to gamble, I would say that literally any other Vigil is more qualified to handle this than you.”

I was silent for a beat. True, I was wholly unqualified to deal with something of this magnitude, but then I’d also been equally unqualified to take out the Hexblight and I’d accomplished that with a little elbow grease and grit.

“Oh fuck,” he said rolling his eyes, “you’re thinking about looking into it aren’t you?”

“I mean there’s gotta be a reason Raguel tasked me with the bounty,” I said. “He wouldn’t have given me the task if he didn’t want me to take a little looksee under the hood, right?”

“Wrong, dude,” Cal said. “You don’t know that because you, like me, don’t know jack shit about being a Vigil. For all either of us know, Raguel gave that exact same assignment to every Vigil in Wildespell.”

I grunted. That was actually a pretty solid point. It was possible that this was one of those all-hands-on-deck type deals. Surely the Custodians wouldn’t let a bunch of suspicious monster-related deaths happen right under their noses without retaliation. Maybe I was jumping the gun here. It definitely seemed out of my league. I mean, the bounty had mentioned royals and politics and civil strife. I knew even less about this city than I did about being a Vigil. Maybe poking my nose in where it didn’t belong would make things worse instead of better.

“Fine,” I finally conceded. “I’ll talk to Kerra about it tomorrow. See if she can’t shed some light on things. Still…” I trailed off, glancing at Renholm. “Why don’t you start looking around a little. Just see if you can find out anything that might help me down the road.”

“I want hazard pay,” the pixie replied matter of factly.

“That’s not in the deal,” I said.

“When we struck our original bargain,” he shot back, “there was no mention of a city full of Vigils. You may not be aware of this, but our two peoples don’t have the longest or healthiest relationship with one another. My people try to exist peacefully, your people try to murder us all and suck up our life Essence. I’m willing to do as you ask, but greater risk warrants a greater reward.”

“What’s your price?”

“Instead of a Novice Class Affinity Scale per week, I want Disciple Class or better. Novice Class is barely worth my time anymore.”

I snorted. I’d seen this song and dance more times than I could count. “No deal. One Novice Class Scale per week, but I’ll let you choose what Affinity type you want, and I’ll give you one bonus Disciple Class Scale per month.”

He threw back his head and cackled. “You fool. So gullible. So easily manipulated. You have much yet to learn, my protégé. Come, Jacob-Francis, we have work to do!”

I shot a look at Cal. “Maybe keep an eye on him, would you? I have a feeling he’s going to get himself into a whole lot of trouble if he isn’t careful. Plus, I’d hate to see anything happen to the cat.”

“The things I do for you,” Cal replied with a sigh before disappearing through the far wall.