“What do you mean my ears are pointed?” Bronwyn slapped a hand up to her head and felt; sure enough, her ears were tapered to a definite point at the top rear.

“Not just that! You’re eyes are . . . I don’t know; the irises seem bigger and brighter; they’re absolutely gorgeous!” Olivia was kneeling in front of her, smiling broadly, and though Bronwyn found her beautiful and sweet, she was too stressed out to have her trying to placate her. She pulled away and scrambled to her feet, freaking herself out more when she saw her long, slender fingers and stood up to her full height, now only six inches or so shy of Morgan’s towering height and slightly taller than Olivia.

“What the fuck?” she exclaimed. “Do either of you have a mirror?”

“Of course,” Olivia said, pulling a hand mirror from her copper ring. Bronwyn took it and stared at herself. She looked sort of like one of the tall, elf-like Fae. Her nose was a bit more narrow than it used to be, but it still had its slight upward slanting tip. Her lashes were lush, and her eyes were big—they glimmered green-yellow in the bright light of the hall. Her hair was fine but dense, and the color shimmered when she shook it out.

“Holy smokes,” she said, pulling her full, pink lips back and exposing her teeth. They were white and straight, but her canines were longer than they used to be. “I look like a Fae.”

“Could it be your class? Your pact with the Queen?”

“I don’t know. She indicated to me that humans are somewhat descended from the Fae. Maybe my racial advancements are drawing that out?”

“How many ranks did you get?” Morgan asked.

Bronwyn slapped her head and then pulled up her status sheet, and her eyes bulged at what she saw:

Name:

Bronwyn Tallow

Race:

Human (Fae Bloodline) - Improved 2

Class:

Summer Banneret - Epic

Level:

22

Core:

Summer Class - Base 6

“I gained a full ten ranks. I’m Improved-two now, and it says I’m a human with ‘Fae Bloodline.’”

“Ten ranks?” Morgan’s voice rose an octave in disbelief.

“Fae bloodline?” Olivia’s tone was more interested than shocked. Bronwyn started to pace, and she saw the outline of a person written in concentric rings on the marble floor, each one showing a longer body.

“You guys were drawing lines around me? What the hell?”

“For science!” Olivia said, grinning. She stepped forward to Bronwyn, gently putting her hands on her waist and forcing her to look into her eyes. Bronwyn, as always, calmed down when she saw those flickering flames behind her irises, and she felt a slow smile spreading on her lips as warmth spread into her from Olivia’s touch. “Would you relax? This is good! I don’t know everything about racial advancement, but I know you’re going to be healthier now, you can gain more levels, and you’ll live a very long time. Right, Morgan?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Morgan said. He’d moved over to the chest, eyeing the other two orbs with interest.

“Thanks, Liv,” Bronwyn said, using the nickname she’d told her about from the academy. She impulsively leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, and Olivia sighed softly, leaning into it.

“Well? We gonna take our medicine, Olivia?” Morgan asked, still staring into the chest. Olivia looked into Bronwyn’s eyes and smiled, favoring her with a wink, then she pulled away and walked over to the chest.

“I suppose so. Bronwyn can watch over us. I’m a little worried, though—these seem incredibly potent, and what if it digs out more of my elemental nature?”

“Aren’t you still like ninety-nine percent human?” Bronwyn asked.

“I’ve no idea the exact amount, but I’d say my human percentage is overwhelmingly in the majority.” She stood next to Morgan, then said, “I won’t shy away. This new reality we’re all facing has dangers that we’ll need to face if our people are going to thrive. Part of gaining power is advancing in every way we can, at least as long as we aren’t harming others. Morgan, you go first; Bronwyn and I can help you lie down, and then I’ll touch mine.”

“Sounds good to me, and, for the record, I agree with what you just said. I need to talk to you about a title I have, but we can discuss it later. Bronwyn knows what I’m talking about.” He glanced at Bronwyn, and she smiled and gave him a brief nod. Then he reached into the chest and touched his orb. Silvery light flared brightly at his touch, and then it was coursing into his body. He stood up straight and grew very still, and Olivia and Bronwyn each grabbed hold of his shoulders, gently lowering him down.

“I’m curious if he’ll grow any more. He said he hardly grew with his latest advancement,” Olivia said, drawing an outline around him with her pencil. He was steaming, but not nearly as much as Bronwyn had. She handed the pencil to Bronwyn and said, “Do me, okay?”

“Oh, talking dirty?” She giggled, and Olivia blushed.

“Oh, my gosh! You’re bad, but save it for another time,” she smiled, then leaned forward and stole a quick kiss. When she came in for it, Bronwyn started to say something but just sputtered. Her lips were like soft, warm pillows, and Olivia furiously blushed when she pulled away. She reached into the chest and grabbed the orb, almost like she was using it to run away. Bronwyn hurriedly took hold of her shoulders and gently lowered her to the marble.

She took the pencil Olivia had handed her, and while steam, more than was coming from Morgan, began to rise from Olivia’s body, she outlined her. Bronwyn was distracted by the emotions and excitement she was feeling at Olivia’s show of affection, but she couldn’t help marveling at her fingers holding the pencil; they were so long and graceful, and her nails were so perfect and . . . sharp.

She sat down, legs crossed, watching her friends go through their processes. While she stared at Olivia, imagining what it would be like to snuggle up to her or hold her hand while they walked, her eyes were drawn to her copper ring, and she started to get a feeling in the bottom of her stomach. It was a feeling of a particular brand of dread, and it reminded her of one thing: Thun. She didn’t know why, but something about Olivia’s ring of storage called to mind the Winter Court. Was it the ring? “Or something inside it?” she asked softly.

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted when Morgan cried out. He arched his back, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent howl, and then with an eruption of white steam, he was flung over onto his stomach, and he writhed as though he were in terrible pain. Bronwyn jumped to her feet and went over to him, wondering what was going wrong, and she saw the steam was billowing from the center of his back. As she watched, it spread out into two long gouts of roiling white-gray clouds, but then it darkened at its center.

The steam continued to darken, and Morgan stopped thrashing, settling onto his stomach, his face now calm and turned to the side. When the steam lifted away, two massive, black-feathered wings hung out and down, sprouting from the silvery plate armor at Morgan’s shoulder blades. “What the actual fuck?” Bronwyn knelt to feel one of the long, glossy, black feathers, wondering if it were real or some kind of illusion. Sure enough, it was real. “You lucky jerk.”

#

“Ykleedra?” Issa called, looking around the lush atrium. When the girl didn’t reply, she started down the path toward the burbling sound of the little stream she knew was just ahead. When she came to the sitting area with the stone benches, she called again, “Ykleedra!”

“Yes, miss?” Ykleedra asked, her long legs pulling her out from between some ferns.

“Ykleedra, I’m going to have a dinner party tonight. I’d love it if you could come.”

“Oh, a party?” The girl’s odd, gray face didn’t show much emotion, but her voice sounded intrigued.

“That’s right! With lots of good food and people for you to meet and talk to!”

“Tonight? How long will it last, miss Issa?”

“Just a few hours. Can you come?”

“I have . . .” the girl paused and looked around. “I have a project I’m working on and am afraid to leave it unattended long. Could I leave early?” She ducked down on her long multi-jointed legs so that she could bow her head before Issa.

“Of course! I want you to come and enjoy yourself, and you can leave whenever you want! I think Morgan would like to know you were meeting new people.” Ykleedra straightened up at the mention of Morgan, and Issa thought she saw a hint of a smile on her rigid face.

“Thank you, miss Issa! I will come. Please have the dragon spirit tell me when it’s time.”

“I will, Ykleedra. Is there anything else you need? Do you need help with your project?”

“No, no.” She shook her head, swaying on her front legs, and Issa was glad the female Yovashi wore robes; she’d heard their tentacles were rather disturbing to behold. “Thank you; I’m fine.”

“Alright, see you tonight then.” Issa waved and turned, walking back out toward the exit. She heard a soft rustling sound, and when she turned, Ykleedra was gone, just some ferns twitching to betray her passage.

#

“Captain Gella, please wait here. Lord ap’Gravin will be with you in just a few minutes.” The secretary gestured toward a plush couch near the bay window of the reception hall, and Gella nodded his thanks and sat down with a heavy sigh. He’d been on the ground less than an hour and could really use a good meal and a long night’s sleep. The Shrike had been wind-tossed and drenched for most of the night, and he was Ancestor-damned tired from wrestling with her rudder.

The couch was comfortable, and the air warm, and Captain Gella found his chin nodding and his eyes growing heavy as he sat waiting in the silence. He shook his head and tried to stimulate his mind by thinking about what he’d say to Lord ap’Gravin. He dug his fingers into his tight uniform collar, trying to let some blood circulate through his itchy, strangled flesh. He was shifting uncomfortably, stomping one foot to get at an itch on his heel, when the receptionist finally returned and cleared her throat. “Lord ap’Gravin will see you now.”

“Thank you,” he said, rising to his feet with a grunt. She led him down a short hallway and then gestured to a partially open, ornate wooden door. Gella had been to see ap’Gravin many times, though he’d never been bringing such momentous news. He cleared his throat in advance of entering the lord’s office, then stepped in.

“Close the door,” ap’Gravin said sharply as soon as he cleared the threshold.

“Yes, Lord.” Gella turned, pulled the door closed with a heavy click, and then turned to face his employer. Ap’Gravin was an imposing figure—an Ardeni man, well into the advanced racial ranks; he stood well over six feet in height. His eyes gleamed a bright, shimmery red, and his long mane of red hair hung down around his shoulders, glistening like cut amber ore. He’d also developed an interesting bloodline trait—sharp, gleaming black horns stood out from his forehead, and long, black nails tipped his elegant fingers.

“Well, let’s have your report. Did you find the village that welp at the academy came from?”

“Yes, Lord, and I bring good news!” Gella hurried forward and ducked his head in respect, waiting for the command to keep speaking.

“Go on; I don’t want to drag it out of you.” Ap’Gravin sat down, motioning with his hand in the universal sign to “keep going.”

“There are close to five thousand of the humans in their settlement. They were very open about their abilities, resources, and so on. They have a significant militia with rather ingenious weapons, but the highest among them wasn’t yet tier two. I don’t think things will remain that way, though, Lord. Our survey of more than three hundred revealed an average Energy affinity of nearly six.” He paused to let that sink in.

“An average of six? They told you as much?”

“Yes, they were almost universally open about their attributes when we interviewed them. We, of course, helped them to relax their guard by sharing false information about our own attributes and classes and couched the interviews as a means for us to determine how best to help their community.”

“How very intriguing. So this little phenom at the academy might not be all that unusual, eh?” Lord ap’Gravin tapped a black claw against one of his canines as he grinned.

“Yes, Lord. I had some thoughts on how you might capitalize on this situation . . .” Gella began.

“Nonsense. I won’t need strategic advice from you, Captain. I might require your services to transport my agents again, though.”

“Of course, of course. My apologies.”

“You say their most powerful representatives are still in tier one?”

“At least the ones present in the settlement. They spoke of ‘heroes’ who fought off an Urghat invasion, but they weren’t present. Even so, I gathered only one of them was even tier two.”

“Yes, I think a few tier four representatives should make recruiting rather easy. How many passengers can your ship carry?”

“Twenty, comfortably, sir. Forty or so uncomfortably.”

“That won’t do. I’ll need you to pilot one of my grand clippers. I won’t be happy unless we take their top thousand. No, two thousand.”

“I think that should be doable, sir, especially if you send some of your high-tier agents to demonstrate their might. Promises of wealth or knowledge will work on many.”

“I said I won’t need your strategies, Captain.” A slight growl entered the lord’s voice.

“Apologies,” Gella said quickly, bowing low enough to scrape his forehead on the desk.

“Very well, Captain. Enjoy a short break in the city. I’ll send word when one of my larger ships is in port.”

“Yes, Lord!” Gella pivoted on a heel and smartly strode from the room. Once his back was turned, his lips curled into a smile, and his mind raced with visions of wealth. He’d managed to stay on the mission, and now he’d be part of the recruitment. He’d be assured a portion of the bounty for each “recruit.”