The Pavers took cover wherever they could as the crossbolt's started flying from the butcher shop's windows. Those with crossbows of their own returned fire, though most either embedded uselessly in the walls or sailed harmlessly into the windows. The few enchanted crossbows they had in their number fared better, with their blazing white bolts punching holes clean through the walls of the building.

Of course, once they did, the next shot from the girl in the shop went straight through the eye of one of the enchanted archers.

The crew's leader, a wiry man with a crew cut and the tell-tale pointed ears of elven ancestry named Donovan, cursed the whole mess of a situation under his breath. They'd been sent to deal with a trio of outsiders, and come with the same numbers Xigbar the Snake had used to get the better of them. Now, one of those targets, along with some other asshole no one had told them about, was picking them off like flies.

He loosed another enchanted crossbolt into the building, putting another hole in the wall where he guessed someone might be taking cover. He didn't know if he actually hit anyone, and he didn't care. The point was to, along with the other archers, generate a volley of bolts to keep the bastards pinned long enough for the rest of the crew to make the approach on the shop's back entrance.

He just hoped they would get on with it already. Even outnumbered, the girl with the wristbow was outshooting them at a dangerous rate.

"Come on," Donovan muttered. "What's taking so long?"

Valerie's first warning that the Pavers were switching tactics came when a clay sphere sailed through one of the broken windows, and shattered into a billowing cloud of thick white smoke. Immediately, her eyes began to water, and her lungs seized, immediately rejecting the smoke in a fit of coughing.

Then came another sphere. And another. Each one flying in from a different opening in the building, until the Valerie could scarcely see in front of her. She retreated deeper behind cover, pulling her coat over her mouth to try and get a semblance of breathable air down.

Kaleb was at her side in another second, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her into a corner of the butcher shop where the smoke was thin. Her eyes were still streaming tears, but she could at least breathe.

"Easy," he said, helping her sit up. "It'll get easier to breathe in this before it gets easier to see, but you took in a lot."

"How do you know?" Valerie croaked.

"It's not my first time dealing with it," Kaleb said. "They use it to weaken enemies, but also to cover their approach, so the more toxic components have to disperse quicker to let them move through it."

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the back door of the shop breaking open, and Kaleb tensed. "Oh. I guess they're done approaching. Are you good to fight?"

"Breathing hurts," Valerie admitted. "But I'll manage."

Kaleb nodded. "I'll try and circle around, thin them out before they get to you."

The Pavers' footsteps were already thudding around—one, maybe two rooms away.

"How are you going to get around them?" Valerie asked.

"Well, smoke is an equal opportunity concealer." Kaleb gave a sheepish smile. "Don't worry. I won't screw up."

That wasn't nearly as reassuring as Valerie thought Kaleb meant it to be, but there was no time to say so. Just like that, Kaleb melted into the thicker banks of the still billowing white smoke, his footsteps completely silent. Lungs still aching, tears streaming down her face, Valerie nevertheless drew her knife, forced herself to stand, and readied herself for a fight.

The Pavers that burst into the room had weapons at the ready—blades and clubs, mostly, though one in the back was going with nothing but a brass knuckle duster. It was hard to make out much more than silhouettes in the smoke, which made it all the harder to discern what happened next.

A dark shape that had to be Kaleb leapt out at the Pavers from the thickest part of the smoke, immediately shoving one of their heads into the tile of the wall. The Pavers wheeled on him, only for him to block the first of the attacks with his shield and dodge away from the rest, retreating back into the smoke.

He came flying back in a second later at a new angle, this time driving his knee into one Paver's stomach before slamming the tip of his shield into another's chest and kicking a third, scattering all three.

They recovered at different speeds, desyncing their counter collapse onto him and letting him block and counter them each in turn, favoring quick, precise blows to keep them off balance before finishing them off with a bash of his shield. In seconds, all three were on the ground.

Valerie moved, rushing one of the Pavers who'd gotten past him, the stinging in her eyes growing worse as she left the comparative clarity of her corner. By the time she was within striking distance, it was a struggle to keep her eyes open beyond a squint. Her opponent, in contrast, was sporting a pair of goggles, and saw her coming just fine.

It was messy, fighting half-blind, and she paid for it with a slash across her cheek from a swipe she failed to parry. Impaired as she was, she couldn't afford to waste time trying to wound, and when she saw an opportunity, she slid her knife across the Paver's throat. They fell, spraying droplets of blood across her face, a few getting into her mouth.

All at once, Valerie froze. The knot in her stomach, first formed when she'd killed the archer on the roof, now tightened so much she might have screamed if she were still breathing. Her head began to spin, to throb. For just an instant, she felt impossibly thirsty, as if her throat had been dried out in the sun.

She stood like that, until the footsteps of an enemy snapped her back to her senses. Valerie whirled around, and at point blank range, loosed the crossbolt into the forehead of another Paver rushing her with mace.

It wasn't until after she'd loosed the bolt that she realized it was covered tip to fletching in black flames.

She didn't know how long she stared at the bolt embedded in the wall before the black flames finally died out, and she became dimly aware that someone—Kaleb—was talking to her.

"Are you okay?"

Valerie blinked, finally snapping out of the stupor that had gripped her. That was when she finally realized that Kaleb had his eyes shut.

". . . did you do all of that with your eyes closed?" Valerie asked.

"Hm?" Kaleb's bright brown eyes opened, not half as irritated as Valerie's. "Oh. Uh, yeah. I can . . . it's complicated. But good news. I think we got them all. Or, at least all the ones willing to fight."

"We killed them," Valerie said, the full implication of that dawning on her. Intellectually, she understood that actual monsters weren't the only dangerous things out there. That the people who attacked her were criminals trying to kill her. She was reasonably sure, even with her earlier freeze up, she wouldn't harbor a crippling amount of guilt over what she'd done.

But she, List, and Dr. Siren hadn't even killed anyone the last time they'd fought the Pavers, and the Paver had been angry enough to send this in response. Now that actual blood had been shed, there was no telling what they'd do.

"They're going to be upset about this," she said.

Kaleb looked around at the bodies sprawled all around. Not all of them were dead. That was good. He could work with that.

"Maybe you should get out of here," he suggested.

Valerie blinked. "What?"

"The full explanation is a really long story," Kaleb said. "But the short version is I know somebody who can clean this up. If they haven't already started. I'll make sure"

"What does that mean?"

"Like I said, it's a long story," Kaleb said. "But you probably don't want to be around when the cleaning starts."

Valerie examined Kaleb. Really examined him for the first time since he'd dropped quite literally out of the sky to save her life. By his own words, he'd been intentionally antagonizing the Pavers. He knew how to fight, and well. The deaths that had unfolded around this mess hadn't phased him at all. And now he was saying he was connected to people who . . . cleaned up crime scenes?

"Who are you?"

For the first time in this entire ordeal, Kaleb frowned. "That's another long story."

". . . I feel like I should tell the lawmaster about all this," Valerie said.

Immediately, she wondered if it was a good idea to tell someone planning on covering up the deaths of several people that she was going to talk to the authorities, and she took a half step back.

Kaleb looked around again. "Right. Right. I guess you would. That, um . . . that should be fine."

"Okay." Valerie gave a slow nod. ". . .the lawmaster's not going to find anything here, is he?"

"No. Probably not." He sounded almost ashamed, which both surprised and confused Valerie.

"Are you going to kill me?"

His eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "No! Gods and stars, no! You're not—I mean, I wouldn't—wow, I am bad at this."

"Maybe I should go," Valerie said, backing away in earnest now.

"I promise, the Pavers won't bother you for this," Kaleb said.

Valerie nodded, but she kept walking. Whether or not he'd find anything, Valerie was still going to tell the lawmaster about all of this. The people charged with protecting Shadefall should know what was happening in their town. And she needed some time to clear her head.

That evening, after their training, Arden and List found Valerie sitting at a table in the Scaled Maiden, an absolute mess. Her hair was out of its usual ponytail, and it was a mess, covered in white dust that also clung to her clothes. Her eyes were red, and she was sporting at least one bandage that they could see on her cheek.

"Valerie!" List rushed to her friends table. "What the hells? Don't tell me you got into a fight without me."

"Valerie," Arden said, his tone much more serious. "What happened?”

Valerie took a long, deep breath. "It's a long story . . ."

It took the rest of the night to go over what happened, less because there was so much to tell and more because Arden and List both kept interrupting with questions, a lot of which Valerie didn't have the answer to.

The only thing she didn't bring up was the way one of her bolts had spontaneously burst into black flames. Something about those flames unsettled her in a way she wasn't ready to confront.

"Well, it's a good thing you got out of there when you did," List said. "A stranger with a penchant for violence gets you out of a jam? With your track record, I'm surprised you didn't try to bring him home."

"It does all sound rather curious," Arden said. "And we should be on guard for any further attacks. But I'm of the mind that whatever is going on between that boy and the Pavers, it's in our best interest to stay out of it."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Valerie said. "He was gone by the time the lawmaster and the other peacekeepers arrived, and so were all the Pavers. I wouldn't know how to get involved if I wanted to."

"Oh hey, there you are." Kiva sauntered over to the trio's table, carrying a small chest under one arm. "Didn't see you get back in. Valerie, some guy left this for you a few hours ago. Said you dropped it?"

The dragonblood girl set the chest down, and Valerie found herself staring at it, dumbfounded. It was the chest containing their reward for killing the swamp troll. In all the chaos that had happened today, Valerie had completely forgotten about it.

"How . . . ?" Valerie started to ask, but she realized she already knew the answer.

List raised an eyebrow. "Well. Saved your life, kicked the shit out of a bunch of Pavers, and brought back our money. I'm coming dangerously close to liking this mystery boy."

"You're late."

The gruff voice greeted Kaleb as he climbed through the window of the church attic. He winced under the admonishment, his eyes immediately dropping to the ground.

The man was waiting for him, sitting in a chair facing the window Kaleb had just climbed in through. Though he was only a few inches taller than Kaleb, and currently sitting down, the boy felt impossibly small when standing in the same room as him. His armor was a similar style to Kaleb's, though his was black.

"Sorry," Kaleb apologized. "I was . . . taking care of a loose end."

The man took a drag from the pipe he was smoking, puffing out a cloud of thin smoke that smelled like copper. "Cleanly?"

"Yes," Kaleb said. "It's all taken care of."

The man grunted. "Good. We've got enough work ahead of us tonight."

Kaleb cast his gaze further back into the attic, where six figures were currently lined up on their knees, bound, with burlap sacks over their heads. Even in the dim lantern light of the attic, Kaleb recognized the attire of some of the Pavers from the butcher shop fight.

Kaleb had known this part was coming. It always followed their skirmishes with the Pavers. But he still hadn't gotten any more comfortable with it.

With a sigh, he took off his jacket to keep it free of any blood.