“Are they gone?”

Lancelot turned the corner, lance in one hand, a scowl on her face.

Ikara stared up at her. “They—they…”

“They got us, too. Come on. We’ve still got the Safe Haven open. You guys can borrow it, take a shower, dry off. You’ll all catch colds like this.”

Drawing Kaidu upright with her, Ikara stood. Water rushed off her, her clothes heavy with it. “Thanks.”

Rowan shook his head. He struggled, again, to climb to his feet, and made it six inches off the ground before he collapsed this time. “C…can’t.” If Jude sees me…

“Need help?” Lancelot crossed to him and slid an arm under his, hefting him upright.

Rowan struggled slightly. “No!”

“I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down,” Lancelot placated him. Ignoring his weak struggling, she hefted him around the corner.

Jude blinked at the sight of Rowan. His lips curled up, but only for a second before concern replaced the unpleasant grin. “Are they hurt? Do they need healing?”

“Yeah. Jeff got them,” Lancelot said.

“Why… why are you helping us? You… you gave me to them,” Ikara said, confused.

“If I hadn’t, Marlene would have caught you. And then you’d be in the same shape as your friend there,” Lancelot said, nodding at Kaidu. “Better only one of you gets knocked out. Means Jude has to expend fewer potions.”

Ikara nodded silently.

Jude hurried over, picking through a waist-pack full of potions. He tipped Rowan’s head back and peered in his eyes, then nodded. “Looks like a minor concussion. I’m expecting the same from Kaidu. Here.” He pulled out a pair of identical neon-blue potions.

Rowan retreated, eyeing the potion distrustfully.

“Don’t worry. Why would we poison you after all that?” Lancelot said.

You might not, but Jude would. He narrowed his eyes at Jude.

Jude waved his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not so petty that I’d hold a grudge when we’re both in a shitty situation. Besides, I’ve got bigger game on my plate right now.”

“Huh? You know each other?” Lancelot asked.

“Ah, yes. I helped him and Kaidu through the first floor. We parted on poor terms,” Jude explained.

Helped? Helped us, nothing! And poor terms? Is that what you call stabbing me through the gut? Still distrustful, Rowan inspected the potion, nervous.

“Oh. That’s unfortunate.” Lancelot poured one of the potions over Kaidu, then turned to Rowan.

Rowan jerked out of her grip, and immediately stumbled, off-balance. Lancelot caught him before he fell with one hand and splashed the potion in his face with her other hand.

Tensing, Rowan prepared to watch Poison Resist pop up in the corner of his vision. Instead, his vision cleared, and the pounding ache in his head faded away. He pushed away from Lancelot and stood on his own, giving his head a shake.

“Better?” Lancelot asked.

Jude smiled. “See? All good.”

Rowan nodded hesitantly. I guess… Jude isn’t trying to kill me right now. “Why?”

The smile didn’t twitch. “Turns out someone as small-potatoes as you wouldn’t afford me a promotion, anyways. I already got shat on for my report on you once, I’ve no desire to submit a second report about the same small-potatoes and get shat on again for wasting my time on fucking losers.”

“Uh… what was that?” Lancelot asked, quirking a brow.

“It’s complicated,” Jude replied, still smiling.

Kaidu startled. He jumped away from Kaidu and whirled around, brandishing his razors. His eyes locked on Jude and lit up. He lunged.

“Kaidu!” Ikara shouted.

Lancelot blocked his blow. “Whoa there. We’re all in the same shit right now. There’s no need to fight amongst ourselves.”

“That’s right. Truce, truce,” Jude said.

Refusing to look away from Jude, Kaidu narrowed his eyes. “This snake…”

“Kaidu, it’s okay. He’s not going to do anything for now. He healed us—that’s why you’re awake,” Rowan said.

Kaidu flicked a glance at Rowan, then at Jude. Slowly, he lowered his blades and backed away from Lancelot.

“What happened between you guys? Seriously. Did someone die?” Lancelot asked.

“He stabbed me in the gut. Nothing serious,” Rowan said sarcastically.

“Nothing serious,” Jude agreed, smile as bright as ever.

Taken aback, Lancelot blinked. “What?”

“Water under the bridge,” Jude said.

“Yeah. Sure,” Rowan replied.

Lancelot waved her hand. “Look. Go get yourselves cleaned up, then head out of here. We’ve got to gather points, or we’re all going to get eliminated.”

“Right.” Rowan touched his throat and grimaced. Now I have to gather my points, and someone else’s share as well? This is impossible.

--

An hour or so later, they regrouped in the plaza, clean and slightly less soaked. Kaidu had retrieved his jacket and thrown it in the dryer Lancelot had pointed out to them with the rest of their clothes. Ikara wrinkled her nose at it now. “The leather’s all out of shape. It needs some conditioner and loving care.”

“Do you have that?” Kaidu asked.

“Not on me.”

He snorted and turned away.

“This isn’t right. We aren’t anyone’s gofers,” Rowan said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah? You look like a bunch of support classes to me,” Terry said.

Lancelot nudged him.

“You’re Jeff’s gofer, too,” Rowan reminded him.

Terry wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out at Rowan.

“Real mature,” Rowan muttered under his breath. He shook his head and started down the plaza. What other choice do we have? I don’t trust Terry or Jude enough to try and take down Jeff with them, and our teams were each defeated alone. There’s no hope but to fetch him points, like he wants. I hate it, but…

A girl stumbled around the corner, soaked in blood, another girl draped over her shoulder. “H—help, someone, please.”

Rowan stared at the unconscious girl over her shoulder. Her head tipped to the side, revealing a familiar face. No way. He got her, too? “Katy?”