I looked around the busy, noisy restaurant Shi Lo had taken us to with satisfaction. The low tables around us were crowded with people, all of whom were engrossed in their own conversations. A constant buzz of talk filled the air, combining into a drone that made individual conversations impossible to pick out. It was a great place for a private conversation; there was an anonymity to be found in a crowd like this that couldn’t be had by hiding away in seclusion. At least, in a world without hidden microphones, there was.

Jing, however, was less happy about Shi Lo’s choice of venue. “Why are we here?” she asked, maybe a bit too loudly. “It is loud and crowded, and I thought we wished to speak privately!”

“We can speak privately here,” I explained, talking just loudly enough for her to hear me clearly. “There’s no way for anyone to overhear us through all this, and nobody’s paying attention to us.”

She looked disgruntled and shifted around uncomfortably. I realized that the noise and number of people probably bothered her, considering that she’d grown up on a small, quiet farm. If I had been someone more considerate of others, I supposed I would have taken that into account. I wasn’t, though, and I needed the privacy more than I needed Jing to feel content, so I ignored it.

A server came to our table, and Jing and Shi Lo ordered some kind of hot beverage that I just labeled ‘tea’ in my head. I asked the man about wine, and he returned with a ceramic jar of thick, hot, clear liquid that had a distinct anise flavor, burned all the way down, and was surprisingly good. I took a couple of sips – I didn’t know if I could get drunk or not, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to find out – then set the jar down and looked at my companions.

“First of all,” I said to the women, adjusting myself on my floor cushion, “I’d like to tell you both a bit more about me, so you know what I’m doing in this city and what’s going on here.

“As Jing knows, I come from a city far from here called the City of Celestial Beings. Our traditions and cultures are a bit different there; for example, I’d only met a couple cultivators until I ran into you, Jing, and I’d never heard of the Heavenly Path. Our city was filled with people who weren’t practitioners, people like Shi Lo. There might have been cultivators watching over us and ruling us, but if there were, I never heard anything about it.

“I was a soldier there. I wasn’t important or high-ranking. I was a good soldier, but that was it. I took my orders and did my duty, and I never really worried about anything else. Our main duty was patrolling the nearby countryside for beasts and killing them or driving them off when we found them. It was hard and dangerous work, but it was fulfilling, at least.

“One day, my unit was out on patrol when we were attacked by a pair of people. At first, we were caught by surprise – why would two people without weapons attack so many armed soldiers? – but we soon learned why.”

I stopped and took a breath, like I was fighting against a painful memory. That was a key to telling a good story; there had to be emotion in it, somewhere. People expect to see how you feel as you tell them stories of loss or triumph or whatever; when they don’t, they doubt the story and the person telling it.

“Those people – just the two of them – they killed my entire unit,” I said, forcing sorrow and anger into my voice. Those weren’t hard to fake, because I just had to think of my last night on Earth to bring them up. “Our weapons wouldn’t hurt them, and they tore us apart with their bare hands. When we tried to run, they chased us down, and they were faster than any person could possibly be.”

I looked at Jing, whose face was creased with sorrow. “Of course, now, I recognize that they were practitioners. Back then, though, I didn’t know what they were. For all I knew, they were some sort of beast. They acted like beasts, moved like them, even looked like them a bit.”

“How did you survive, master?” Shi asked me, her face bleak.

“I was knocked unconscious and left for dead,” I shrugged. “At least, I assume so; when I came to, they were gone, and I was the only one left. I couldn’t go back to the City of Celestial Beings – I couldn’t report that my entire unit had been slaughtered by two people, after all – so I ran. I ran for days, living on what little food I could scavenge and hiding from the beasts. By the time I ran into you, Jing, I was exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and terrified. If you hadn’t found me – if your father hadn’t trained me – I would probably be dead by now.”

Jing nodded thoughtfully as I spoke. I was pretty proud of the story. It gave enough details to sound believable but no more than that, so that I didn’t have to keep expanding my story to explain details that didn’t quite match or add up. It was tragic but not really interesting enough that they wouldn’t want to dig deeper into it, and it explained my confusion and behavior when I’d first met Jing, as well as my martial skills.

“Certainly, that explains much, Xu Xing,” Jing said hesitantly. “And yet…why did you not accept my father’s offer of enrollment in the Brilliant Desert School? That would have made our time in this city far simpler and possibly more pleasant.”

“Because when we were at the cursed camp, in the quarry, I fought with two men before facing that woman practitioner,” I explained. “Like the Chief, something had been done to them. They could inflict qi poisoning, and they moved and fought like beasts, as much as they did people.” I leaned closer to her. “Just like the two who killed my fellow soldiers, Jing.”

I shook my head. “I need to track down that woman and find out if she’s connected to the people who did that. I have to know, and I won’t be able to find that information out from the safety of the Brilliant Desert School.” I spoke with fierce determination, tapping the table with a finger as I did and trying to impress her with the intensity of my words. Again, it wasn’t hard; I really did want to track the woman down and figure out what was happening, so I could move to my next job and get closer to returning home.

“A matter of honor, then,” Jing nodded with acceptance. “I can understand this, to be certain. Why did you not tell my father, though? He might have been able to provide you assistance.”

“For one, this is something I feel I should do by myself. Those were my fellow soldiers killed, after all. For another…” I bowed my head and looked away from her. “I was ashamed. I didn’t want to admit to him that I’d survived by luck, or that I’d run away from the ones who’d committed that atrocity. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“That is something I can understand,” she sighed. “Father can be – intimidating, though his heart is kind. I have felt similarly in the past.”

I nodded without saying anything, then turned to look at Shi Lo. “And now that I’ve told you of my past, Shi Lo, it’s time for you to share yours.”

“My story is unimportant, master,” she bowed respectfully.

“Let me be the judge of that,” I said firmly. “Give, Shi Lo.”

She looked at me, her eyes a bit wild. “I was no one important, master,” she said. “The fourth daughter of a simple merchant, my main value was to be married to the son of a more powerful family. I was on my way to that event when we were waylaid by the cursed. Now, I am unsuitable as a bride. Were I to return to my family, I would be cast out. I wish to stay with you and serve you, instead.”

Jing was nodded, but I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was a good story, really. Like mine, it had just enough detail to be believable but not enough detail for me to check it. She didn’t give me a family name or even the type of merchant her parent was. However, unlike mine, her story didn’t account for details I’d already noticed, ones that didn’t quite add up in my head. Red flags were flying up everywhere, and my job was going to be hard enough without adding the extra baggage I had a feeling she’d be bringing along.

“Really, Shi Lo?” I asked her archly. “What family? What merchant? Let’s go visit them. Maybe I can talk them into taking you back. In fact, take us there now.”

“I – I cannot, master. They would surely beat me if I showed up as I am now…”

“And I would stop them, don’t worry. Come on, let’s go see your family!” I half rose to my feet, carefully examining her face. I didn’t miss the trapped, frightened look there, the way her eyes darted from side to side as if seeking a way out. I knew that look; it was the look that marks had when they knew there was no escape. Usually, they bolted next, and I really didn’t want to chase her. I lashed out with my hand and grabbed her wrist, holding it tightly. She stared at my hand gripping her, then up at me, realizing that she was trapped.

“Or,” I told her, leaning forward so I could speak more softly and intently, “you could just tell me the truth.”

“The…the truth, master?”

“Yes, Shi Lo, the truth. Do you expect me to believe that the fourth daughter of a merchant knows the forms of address for the city’s gate guards? Or that she would happen to know a dark alley with places to hide? Or a travel house that’s safe and inexpensive? Or anything about any cultivation school?”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t have any need to know any of those things as a merchant’s daughter, Shi Lo, especially one who was just being groomed for marriage. You probably wouldn’t know much about the city outside of the marketplace, in fact, and the only time you would have left the city would be when you were escorted out to go meet your husband.

“So, you want to try again? Or would you rather tell me the truth?”

Her eyes were wild, and her mouth was set in a wide O of shock. I waited for a few seconds, then shook my head again, releasing her hand. “Fine,” I told her. “Don’t tell me. Just go.”

“G-go, master?”

“Yes, go. I don’t want a servant who’s going to lie to me, Shi Lo. How could I ever trust you? Tell me the truth, or leave, now. Those are your choices.”

Okay, yes, I knew even as I spoke that I was being a hypocrite. I was demanding truth from her but not being honest, myself. But here’s the thing; I didn’t care. I knew that my lie wasn’t going to endanger Jing or Shi Lo, and the truth might endanger me. To be honest, I was mostly concerned about that second part, but I didn’t really want anything bad to happen to either of the women, either. I didn’t know that Shi Lo’s lie was harmless, though, and I couldn’t just hope that it was. That would be foolish. So, yes, that made me a hypocrite. I was also a liar and a murderer, though, so in the grand scheme of things, hypocrite wasn’t that big of a deal to me.

“I…” The woman seemed to stumble to find her voice, as if searching for an explanation I’d believe, but that’s the thing. Coming up with a cover story, a believable cover story, takes time and planning. You have to make sure it explains everything everyone is going to see and know about you, but that it does that in a way that isn’t too odd or exotic. If your cover story involves unicorns or flying, magical fairies, then people aren’t going to believe it no matter how much it explains. Although, I supposed it was possible that eventually I’d be on a world where flying, magical fairies were a valid explanation for things. For the time being, though, they wouldn’t cut it. There are people who can create a quick and believable story like that off the top of their heads, but apparently, Shi wasn’t one of them.

At last, she seemed to crumple into herself. Her shoulders slumped, her head bowed low, and her body relaxed from its flight posture. “Very well, master,” she said in a barely audible voice. “I – before I fled the City of the Sunrise Moon, I was a thief.”

Jing caught her breath, and I glanced at her sharply. The woman’s face looked outraged, but Shi Lo drew herself up and looked at the cultivator proudly.

“You judge me, practitioner,” she said in that same, quiet voice that barely carried. “What right have you to do so?”

“A thief! Something so dishonorable…”

Shi cut the woman off with a bark of bitter laughter. “Honor? There is no honor in the streets, practitioner. My mother was a courtesan and died when I was a child, beaten to death at the hands of some man who demanded more from her than she was willing to perform. I was cast out, for none wanted me, and set adrift in the city. For a girl with no family, no sect, and none to care for her, there are few choices. I could take up my mother’s trade – there are those who prefer to lie with children, loathsome as that thought may be – I could starve to death on the streets…or I could steal.

“I wished to live and not be dishonored, so I stole. And I was good at it; my fingers were light, and my feet were swift. I served an organization that has no official role in the city but that is ever-present, nonetheless: the Society of the Moonlit Shadow. It is an organization of thieves and murderers, and they made me one of their own.”

She took a deep breath. “That is, until my fingers found the wrong purse. I stole a fire qi stone, and I knew that I would never know safety in the walls of the city. My masters in the Moonlit Shadow took the stone, of course, so I could not return it, and were the ones who hunted me to find me, they would inflict on me punishments worse than I could imagine for what I had done.”

“I took what little I had, purchased finer clothing, and booked passage in a merchant caravan, giving them the tale I first told you. I would flee to another city and start again; the Moonlit Shadow is everywhere, and I could regain my former status there. And then…the cursed struck the caravan.”

She blinked rapidly. “I was taken, and I became what I had always feared, a courtesan, nothing but a pleasure slave to those foul creatures. Yet I lived, and I knew that with time and patience, I could make my escape.” She looked at me. “Until you saved me, master. I knew that in your service, I would be safe from those who might seek to do me harm, still seeking their vengeance for my theft. So, I led you back to the city of my birth…”

She looked down once more. “Please, do not send me away, master. If you do, I will be forced to flee the city once more, for I would rather brave the beasts of the world than what my pursuers might do when they caught me.”

And there it was. If I kept her around, I’d probably draw hostile attention and maybe even be risking my life. If I sent her away, I’d be condemning her to a pretty horrible death, one way or the other. I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t. I groaned and leaned back, my thoughts racing furiously.

I forced myself to stop and analyze the problem. The problem was, Shi Lo had dangerous people chasing her, and if they found her, she’d be relying on me to protect her. That was pretty straightforward, really. I could think of a few solutions. If I knew who was chasing her, I might be able to take the fight to them, first. Dead people presented very little danger, after all. The problem with that solution was that those people might have even more powerful friends I’d have to kill, and then they had friends, and so on until the whole, damn city ran red with blood. If I knew I could kill her pursuers without anyone being able to track me, maybe, but I didn’t really know how abilities worked in this world. I wouldn’t put it past someone to have a bloodhound power that let them track me no matter where I went. So, not the best option.

Another option was to return what she stole. That would mean leaving the city, hunting down a fire-ranked monster, and killing it. The problem was, I didn’t know how to find a fire-ranked monster. Even if I did, I didn’t know if I could kill it. Apparently, I’d killed a pair of sky-ranked monsters without knowing it, so I guessed it was possible, but…

“Actually, you didn’t,” Sara corrected me silently.

“What?”

“You didn’t kill any water-ranked or sky-ranked monsters.”

“Sara, we both saw their heads in that bag…son of a bitch. The old man and lady?”

“I assume. I have a record of every creature you battled, and you never fought the monsters whose heads gave you the water and sky qi stones. I can only guess that Jing’s parents found those and killed them themselves without you knowing, then gave you their heads for your bounty.”

“Dammit. Now I feel indebted to them.” I sighed; I hated owing people.

“They probably did it for Jing, not you, if it makes you feel better.”

“Well, maybe a little. At the same time, now I feel like I should give her those stones. I won’t, of course, but I feel like I should.”

“I can’t help you there, sorry, John.”

So, no fire qi stones, basically. Fine.

I couldn’t stop the people from hunting her. That left only one option. I had to keep them from finding her. Fortunately, I had a few ideas on how to do just that, ideas that would help me, as well.

“Okay, when we’re done, here, let’s go to the gate and pick up the rest of our qi stones,” I told the women. “Then, Shi Lo, I want you to take us to the marketplace.”

“Master, surely, someone from the Moonlit Shadow will recognize me there,” the woman protested.

“From what you’ve told me about them, I’d be shocked if you haven’t been identified a dozen times already,” I laughed. “If they haven’t done anything about yet, they probably aren’t going to. Besides, they’re not the ones you’re worried about, right? It’s the people you stole from, not your former associates who are chasing you.”

“Yes, that is true, master.”

“Then what we need to do is make sure they don’t find you. Fortunately, I think I might have a way to do just that.”