“Yeah, I do. I want to know what he was after. Why were they targeting us? For that matter, why didn’t he wait until we were out of the dungeon? Soloing a dungeon is risky and he’s not prepared.” Andarit sank onto her bed. The adrenaline was clearly leaving her; she looked exhausted. “Why did he have to attack in the middle of the night anyway?”

Serenity chuckled. “That at least was a good choice for him. We were both sleeping. It should have been safe.”

“Yeah, how did you wake up?” Andarit turned her attention to Serenity. “I sure didn’t hear him.”

“A Skill. A danger sense variant.” Serenity shrugged. “All he had was a stealth Skill. A good one, but it didn’t mask him magically, so my Skill was triggered.”

“Aah.” Andarit nodded then looked back at the unconscious assassin. “How long do you think it’ll be before he’s awake?”

Serenity shrugged. “Depends on if you heal him or not. Probably not any time soon if you don’t. I think he probably has a concussion; you hit him pretty hard. Doesn’t look like you broke any bones, but you shook him up badly. I’d recommend healing him, but first we should decide what we’re going to do with him, how we’re going to get him to talk and tell the truth.”

Serenity would also need to shift back into his disguise, just in case they decided to leave the man alive.

“Weekly? That’s nonsense.” Blaze frowned at Rissa. “That would be too often even if you were actually at risk, and there’s no reason you should be. You’re young and healthy.”

“Serenity isn’t human. And … neither am I. Not completely. And the baby is really slow to develop. It might not be fully viable.” Rissa sounded distressed.

She’d clearly been poorly treated by her current Healer. Blaze wasn’t about to let that continue. “So? Neither am I. Even if I probably am closer to what you Earthers call human than the norm elsewhere. As for the baby being slow, that’s not a surprise. Draconic heritage tends to slow things down. If you want, I can check your condition; I’m certain I’ve seen more cross-species pregnancies than your current Healer.”

It might only be a few, but that was far more than none.

“Could you? That would make me feel a lot better. Especially since we’re leaving Earth tomorrow.” Rissa took a tentative half-step towards Blaze and he smiled ruefully. He always ended up playing the Healer for everyone around him, especially when they were traveling as a group.

It felt good to be truly trusted again; the Tutorial was temporary, but this might not be. He’d be thrilled to be healing for a Clan or a Settlement again. Right now, there weren’t nearly enough people to truly keep him busy, but Blaze was certain that would change in time; until then, traveling with Rissa would keep him busy.

Blaze took the short step needed to get next to Rissa and set his hand against the cloth covering her belly. That was plenty close enough for a check.

Several minutes later, he stepped back with a grin. “Your child’s fine. Both the blood and magical connections are solid and functioning correctly; you should make sure to spend time in higher-magic environments. This dungeon is a good choice, but once we’re offworld we’ll need to make certain you have enough time in higher mana concentrations; your mana saturation is a little low, and mana saturation is important for proper bloodline development. I suspect it’s especially important for dragons.”

Blaze still couldn’t believe that this was a friendly dungeon. He’d heard of Dungeon Lords, of course, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard of one where the dungeon itself was cheerful, talkative, and friendly. Sure, Aki pretended to be grumpy, but it was obvious that she was happy with her situation.

“Serenity does complain about the magic levels a lot. Says he aches when they’re low.” Rissa sounded a lot more cheerful than only a few minutes earlier.

“See? Mana level is important.” It made Blaze wonder just how draconic Serenity was; he could notice the magic levels himself, but he was Tier Four on a world that was Tier Two, so it really wasn’t a problem. Serenity was only Tier Three; why was he having issues?

The most likely reason was even more draconic heritage than Blaze had realized. Dragons were innately magical and required magic to live; it was likely they would be more sensitive to low magic levels than others.

Blaze grinned calmly at Rissa, trying to show her he was confident. “Why don’t you go talk to Jine? She’s a mother, she can probably give you some idea of what to expect if we don’t make it back before your child is born.”

Sillon’s wife was certainly the best possible advisor for Rissa; the next best option was Russ, and Blaze didn’t think Rissa would be comfortable talking to her father. Kerr and Ekari were both childless, as was Raz.

So was Blaze himself, for that matter. He was still hopeful that Ekari would be interested, but she was so concerned about her personal life that romance was simply not on her mind at all. He’d have to keep an open mind.

Everything seemed to waver uncertainly around Arrin as he opened his eyes. He had a terrible headache; had he drunk too much? He didn’t remember a party.

“Oh good, you’re conscious.” The woman’s voice was far too loud. It had to be a hangover.

Something tugged at his hair. Arrin started to reach up and find out what it was, only to discover that his hands were bound in front of him. This clearly wasn’t the aftermath of a party; what was going on? The last thing he remembered was … he was standing over a target? That wasn’t a good place for it to stop. Surely something had happened after that.

“Over here.” The woman’s voice again. Arrin turned his head to look at her.

Andarit! The Daughter-Heir of Lowpeak! She was still alive, which meant that he’d failed his mission. Or, at least, that he would soon. There was only about a day left when he made the attempt on her; what went wrong? He remembered something hitting him from behind, then something biting his arm.

Arrin looked at his arm. It was wrapped in some sort of surprisingly white rough cloth. That must have been real, then. Why was he alive?

“Are you sure he’s awake yet? I think he’s still pretty out of it.” That man sounded amused.

Arrin’s head whipped around, only to see that man. He was dressed differently; without the cloth covering his armor, it was obvious that there was a sigil of some sort on the man’s armor. “Who are you?”

“My Name is Serenity,” that man answered. “Are you certain that’s the question you should be asking?”

“I-” Arrin stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument with someone who’d already tied him up. “What’s going on here?”

That man … no, Serenity grinned in response. “A much better question. Almost exactly the one I want you to answer. The problem is, how do I know if I can believe whatever you say?”

Arrin started to answer, then stopped himself. How could he show he was telling the truth? “I have no reason to lie. I just want to get out of this alive.”

“And yet somehow I think you’d prefer to get out alive with Andarit dead.” Serenity’s voice didn’t leave any room for doubt; he believed what he was saying. “So you see why I can’t believe you. At least, not without some form of surety.”

They were going to torture him, beat him until he spoke. He’d been through it before; it was why he’d joined the Night Sky Court. No one messed with Night Sky.

Only that didn’t matter here. No one else knew he was in the dungeon. No one at all, not even his own Court. Even if they had known, it wouldn’t have helped; this was a dungeon. People die in dungeons; he had planned to take advantage of that himself. All they had to do was kill him and no one would ever know.

Arrin looked up at Serenity, then over at Andarit. Neither seemed at all sympathetic, so he tugged on the bonds around his hands.

Arrin barely bit back a scream. His right wrist was raw and painful; whatever they’d done, he hadn’t realized how badly it hurt until he tugged at it. He wasn’t going to get free that way, not with them watching him.

Arrin’s mind raced, trying to find another solution. He already knew that invisibility wouldn’t help; Serenity could see through it. Even if he couldn’t, becoming invisible wouldn’t help while they were watching him. He was tied and couldn’t get out. No one was going to rescue him. His Skills were great, but not when he couldn’t move his hands.

There was only one option. He was going to have to talk his way out. He was usually pretty good at that, but he was starting with a really big problem; they knew he was here to kill Andarit. He was out of better options. “What sort of surety will you accept? I can swear by the Court?”

Serenity shook his head. “Why would that make me believe you?”

The best way to ensure the intruder spoke the truth would be to kill him, raise him from the dead, and have his zombie give what it could from the remaining memories. It wouldn’t be perfect, memories were always lost in the process, but it would be true. A zombie wouldn’t lie to its controller unless the controller did something very wrong; there was no will there to make that choice.

It wouldn’t even be unjustified. The man had attacked Andarit without provocation.

Serenity hadn’t proposed it as an option. It was probably not one Andarit would like; her father was known as “Lichbane,” but that wasn’t the reason. The real reason was that Serenity didn’t like it as an option. He’d do it as a last resort, but it didn’t seem necessary here. At least, not yet. There was no such thing as an oath that couldn’t be violated, but there were still other options that didn’t require necromancy.

The intruder didn’t seem to have a good answer to Serenity’s question, so he decided to change his direction. “What’s your name?”

“What? Oh. Arrin. I, I will tell you anything you want if you let me go free. I just want to get out of this alive.” Arrin seemed nervous and pitiful; Serenity had to remind himself that he was looking at an assassin.

“Fine, but an oath to your Court won’t work. What I want is the truth. All of it, everything you know about why your Court is attacking the Lowpeaks. You’ll be taking an oath to the Voice, and I do know how to make that binding, so don’t try to take shortcuts.” Serenity didn’t have a contracts-based Path or magic the way Guildmaster Tirmanak Oathbinder did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know some tricks. Enforcing an Oath to the Voice was possible several different ways; he couldn’t do all of them, but there were a couple of possibilities. Enough to be believable, at least.

“I…” Arrin visibly swallowed. “I’ve never given an enforced Oath. What does it take?”

Serenity smiled. He couldn’t force someone else to talk, much less tell the truth. Finding out they lied afterwards didn’t always tell him what they’d lied about either. Still, that didn’t mean it wasn’t useful. “We’ll go over that after you tell us why you’re here. If you do tell the truth, we’ll even consider healing you.”

“I … ah …” Arrin looked down and seemed to think about what Serenity had said. Serenity just waited; he wasn’t good with people, but he knew that letting people think could be useful. Sometimes they’d convince themselves. The trick was knowing when that was the right thing to do and when it was better to keep pushing, but he wasn’t good at that part.

Arrin’s next words made Serenity decide he’d been right to wait. “I was trying to fulfill a contract. The Lowpeaks had to be out of Zenith or dead by … I guess it’s tomorrow now? Or it will be in the morning at least.”