“I’ll raise you two pitals.” I slid the coins into the center of the table, then leaned back, gazing as expressionlessly as at the older man sitting across from me. His face was equally blank as he glanced at the cards on the table, a red four and a green nine, then at the small pile of coins sitting in the center of the pot. He looked back at me, shaking his head, then pushed his cards into the middle with a sigh.

“I thought I was a pretty good gambler,” he said ruefully. “You always seem to know when I’m bluffing, though.”

“Just lucky, I guess, Raba,” I shrugged as I slid the pot toward me. Of course, that wasn’t the case, but I wasn’t going to tell him that he only looked at the pot when he had a crap hand. I didn’t have much – a double double of sevens and nines, the second-worst hand, just above a double – but I didn’t need a great hand when my opponent’s was lousy.

“It’s not luck, and we both know it.” He pushed his chair back, rising from the table. “I think I’ll call it a night while I still have enough money to eat. You can take someone else’s coins, Nayik.”

The sheriff had been right about the townsfolk taking the outcome of the duel seriously. Apparently, “Nayik” translated roughly to “person who does heroic things”. That was great, but I didn’t think saving Paisley was heroic. I only did it to stay on the sheriff’s good side, and I’d been concerned at first that the girl would still find a way to come after me. After watching the sheriff’s interaction with her the next morning, though, I wasn’t worried about that anymore.

The boy who burst into the sheriff’s office to tell us that Paisley was awake couldn’t have been much more than ten. The sheriff took the news calmly, and the two of us walked together to the saloon. We made our way upstairs and found Paisley propped up in Rose’s bed, her eyes open and her expression pained – and hard to look at, really. The fire had burned away all the hair on her head, leaving little specks of stubble here and there, but it also seared off her lashes and eyebrows, making her look oddly artificial, like a facsimile of a person. Her face was dark red, with blisters on her nose, jawline, and ears, and her scalp shone pale white in the chandelier’s light. She clutched a sheet up over her chest, her face scowling as we walked in the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” she demanded. “This is one of the whores’ rooms, isn’t it?” She turned her gaze to me, and her face darkened. “What the hell did you do to me while I was out? I swear, when I get a new pet…”

“Shut the hell up, Paisley,” the sheriff said in a deceptively mild tone. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but she clamped it shut as she caught one look at the expression on his face.

“Here’s the deal,” he told her, sitting on the edge of the bed almost lazily. “First off, Naasi here – sorry, Nayik is what the folks are calling him now – saved your ass when you lost control of your wolfion. You owe him your life, and while that might not mean shit to you, as far as I’m concerned, it wipes clean any debt you might feel he owes you. The duel’s over, the matter’s settled, and that’s an end to it.”

Once again, she looked like she’d protest, but he reached out and grabbed one of her sheet-covered legs, squeezing. She gasped in pain as his powerful fingers dug into her burns, and her eyes widened.

“I said it’s done. You try to make an issue of this again, girl, and I’ll consider it defying an officer of the law. You’ll be lucky if I just tie you up and toss your ass on the next boat or caravan out of here. Understand?” She nodded slowly, biting her lip against the pain, and he let go of her leg.

“Good. Now, with that settled, let me be blunt. You’re in a heap of trouble, girl.”

“Trouble?” she echoed, her face growing paler. “W-what trouble? I didn’t…”

“That Fireblast of your set fire to the town, Paisley,” the man said tiredly. “Burned down a stretch of sidewalk and old Niha’s feed store. I had to call in a storm to put the fire out, and that did even more damage to the town – and you’re on the hook for all of it.”

“What?” she demanded. “No, I…” She pointed at me. “It was his fault! He broke the rules and sent his pet to attack me! That’s why I lost control. He should be paying!”

“Did the bloodbeak touch you? Did it claw you or snap at you? Did it use Cutting Breeze on you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then all it did was fly at you, girl. There’s no rule against trying to distract your opponent in a duel. You’re the one who let yourself get distracted, and a distracted handler’s a dead handler – or, in this case, a broke one since the damages come out to about forty-seven sonats. You got that much?”

Her face paled even more, and I thought for a moment she might faint. “F-forty-seven?” she gasped. “I – I’ve never seen – hell no, I don’t have that, Sheriff!”

“Then by my authority as the duly appointed officer of the law in Murkburg, I declare you to be indentured to this town until such time as you’ve worked off that debt, Paisley,” he said.

“What? No! That – that’ll take years! I can’t be stuck here for the next ten years, Sheriff! I won’t!”

He leaned toward her again, his eyes flashing. “Are you refusing to obey a lawful judgment, Paisley?” he growled. “Cuz there’s only one punishment for that, you know.”

“N-no!” she shook her head. “It’s just – it’s not fair!”

“Fair’s got nothing to do with it, girl. You made bad choices, and now you’re paying for them. You started a fight with Nayik, here, without even using that Simple Analyze card you’ve got – which would have warned you that the boy’s walking all three paths at once, and that he’s a decent threat to someone like you. You fought stupidly, and when you realized you weren’t going to win, you tried a rune that was too strong for you. Then, you let yourself get distracted, and the rune backfired on you.”

He shrugged. “Just a bunch of stupid decisions, really, but they ended up with you owing the town about eleven years’ worth of your pay, closer to thirteen if you take out enough for you to live on. It’s your own damn fault, and you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself, girl.”

She stared at me, realization dawning in her eyes. “Wait, all three paths?” she gasped. “Nobody can do that without crippling themselves, Sheriff! Not unless…”

“Yep. Boy’s got the scores to make it work for him, and he learns fast. Wouldn’t be surprised if he bonds an Epic beastie someday – or maybe a bunch of them.” He chuckled. “You should have known when I didn’t shut down your duel that things weren’t as simple as they seemed, girl. I don’t allow unfair duels, and you know that.”

She blinked rapidly, and tears streamed from her eyes as her shoulders slumped in what looked like either resignation or despair and was probably a bit of both. “Please,” she whispered. “Sheriff, I don’t want to be here for thirteen years. Please…” She sniffed and looked around the room. “I – I can make extra money to pay it off. Shina…”

“No, girl. You’d be a lousy whore. You’re too uptight for it, and you’d end up killing somebody – and that would end you in Parri’s belly.” He leaned back, his face thoughtful. “There might be a way to earn extra money, though. I been thinking about getting me a deputy, someone to handle small problems so I don’t have to. Pays the same as your shepherding job, so it’d half your sentence. You interested in something like that?”

She opened her mouth, but he held up a warning hand. “Before you agree, I should explain a few things. First, as far as I’m concerned, an officer of the law has to be held to a higher standard than anyone else. No throwing temper tantrums, accusing people of cheating for no good reason, or challenging Boden because you don’t like what he said about you. You start pulling that shit, and I’ll put you over my knee the way someone should have long ago, got it?

“Second, you aren’t half the handler you think you are. You picked a bad pet for you, and you gave it half-assed training. You don’t know how to use your cards right, and you use the wrong ones at the wrong time.

“You come to work for me, and I’ll be fixing that. We’ll find you a better pet – a Prey would be best, but a Wood type would work, too – and I’ll show you how to use it in a fight.”

“Prey?” she protested. “Sheriff, they’re slow and dumb! Nobody can fight with a Prey type!”

“That’s not true, girl. Prey beasties can be damned dangerous in the right hands. They’re tough, quick, heal fast, and they’ve got stronger bonds than any other type.” He leaned toward her and poked her gently in the chest. “Most of all, though, they’re the type you’re suited for, and that makes all the difference. If you’d been facing Nayik here with something like a stonedigger or treehopper, you’d probably have won the duel.”

She stared at him, her face dubious. “Y-you think?”

“I know,” he shook his head. “You’ve got some potential, girl, but you’ve gotta stop fighting yourself if you ever want to reach it.” He rose to his feet. “It’s gonna take you some time to heal up. Take that time and think it over before you make a decision. Don’t sign on thinking you can do a half-assed job of it and get by, or that you’ll be able to lord your authority over the town. Ain’t neither of those gonna happen. However, if you do decide to work with me, I promise I’ll do my best to make you a better handler. That’s a promise.”

He leaned back. “Now, let’s figure out which runes you owe the boy, here. I’m thinking Deadly Lunge, Lightning Whip, Darkblood, Skinrot, and Heavyfoot…”

Paisley gave me the cards, and I spent a day copying Simple and Lesser versions of them. I ended up with the Simple runes Bitterblood, Mudfoot, and Mangy Hide, and the Lesser runes Deadly Lunge and Lightning Whip. I hadn’t realized that ranking runes up changed their names as well as their effects, but I suppose it made sense. Darkblood made a pet’s claws and teeth ooze poisonous blood that did extra damage and could weaken an unbonded beast; Bitterblood just inflicted a bit of poison damage on anything that bit or scratched my pet. Mudfoot made a pet’s footing slippery, so they had trouble dodging; Heavyfoot actually weighed them down, so they were slower as well. Mangy Hide and Skinrot both lowered a pet’s defense, but Mangy Hide did it by making armored scales or thick fur brittle, while Skinrot caused those protections to fall right off. The difference wasn’t just one of power; the higher ranked runes actually affected their targets in very different ways.

left Shina’s the next day and went back to her house to finish recovering. She hadn’t officially decided about working for the sheriff or not, and I honestly wasn’t sure which way she’d come down. I gave her about even odds to try and run for it, getting out of town and seeking her fortune somewhere else. It would be a stupid move – the sheriff wouldn’t take something like that lying down, and from what I’d heard, she wouldn’t find life in most towns as easy on her as this one – but it would let her protect her image as a dangerous handler with scary pets. I’d found that people would do all sorts of dumb things to protect their illusions – myself included.

As Raba rose from the table, I pushed my own chair back. “How about I buy you a drink?” I asked him. He gave me a curious look, and I shrugged. “Least I can do after taking your money.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine with me.” I scooped my winnings into the larger, black leather pouch I’d gotten from Minasi’s and followed the older man to the bar. I flagged Rajdra down and ordered us both drinks, then settled in next to the man, sipping mine.

“Nayik,” Raba said speculatively. “That’s not your given name, is it?”

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s just what people call me here.”

“Must be quite a story,” the man ventured.

“It’s not, really. One of the town’s handlers challenged me to a duel over something stupid and nearly got herself killed. I ended up saving her from her own pet when she lost control of it, and the townsfolk decided to call me ‘Nayik’ for it.”

He chuckled. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?” He asked. I shook my head in reply. “Back east?” I simply shrugged, and he nodded.

“Well, out in Na Jhauta, ‘nayik’ may be a compliment, but out here…” He hesitated. “It’s more of a sideways insult. Hero types don’t last long out here. Sure, everyone admires them, but no one wants to be one or their kids to be one. The Gistal’s a hard place, and a man’s gotta look out for himself first, not worry about saving others.”

I nodded. “Good thing I’m no hero, then,” I chuckled. “I just didn’t want to piss off the sheriff.”

“Now, that’s some smart thinking,” Raba nodded. “Sheriff Ramka’s widely known as a fair man but a hard one, and not many would dare to cross him.” He glanced at me. “Did you at least get some kind of reward for winning your duel?”

“In a manner of speaking. The handler I beat works for the town – her pet keeps the farms and herds safe – but she hasn’t been able to do that since the duel. The sheriff’s got me doing that job until she’s recovered.”

“Does it pay well?”

“About twice what my last job did, which was working security here,” I shrugged. “At least now, I have time to gamble. Only problem is, I spend my days on the back of a grouchy roadwalker with a crappy saddle. My ass isn’t exactly happy about it.”

That was an understatement. Roadwalkers were Prey type monsters that had a similar build to a horse, with a slightly longer body, shaggy fur that kept them cool in the hot sun, and metallic hooves with spikes on the bottom. They had overlarge heads with shorter muzzles than horses, wider mouths, and hard, flat teeth that let them crush not only tough grasses but the rocks they swallowed for the minerals in them. The creatures had wide, long bodies that moved differently from a horse, and it took me two days of practice to adapt to their new gait – two days of throbbing thighs and a sore ass from too much bouncing.

He laughed. “See? Being a hero’s not something a man should aspire to. Brings nothing but pain in the end – the rear end, in this case!”

I laughed and took another swig of my drink, then set it down casually.

“You came in on the Whitestone caravan yesterday,” I noted as idly as I could, getting to the real reason I’d bought the man a drink. I needed to start thinking about moving on, and that meant I needed more information about the neighboring towns. I had no idea where to go, yet, except a rough thought that I could head to one of the larger cities and see if I could get a sense of any imbalance. It wasn’t a great plan, but I couldn’t sit around in Murkburg and hope for the best.

“That I did. Not the easiest trip I ever had, either. That storm that hit us on the road nearly bogged us down in mud, and we got hit by a pair of cloudcracklers that killed a couple of the roadwalkers hauling the wagons.”

“I’ve never seen those,” I admitted. “Cloudcracklers, I mean.

“Few have. They look like bright blue fish about the size of a man, with fins like wings and wide mouths filled with rows and rows of teeth. Lightning types, which makes them extra nasty. They swim up in the clouds and only come down during storms.”

“They sound dangerous.”

“Oh, they are. Got a Lightning Aura that zaps anything that gets too close, and once they’ve paralyzed something, they swoop by and take bites of it, paralyzing it over and over until its heart stops beating or it fights back. Fortunately, like most Lightning types, they’ve got crap for defense, and their glows make them easy to target with rifles. After we put a few bullets into them, they took off and left us alone.”

“You seem to know a lot about them,” I noted. “Most people I’ve met don’t know that much about monsters.”

He shrugged. “Legacy of a misspent youth, I guess. I wanted to be a handler myself when I was young, so I learned everything I could. Finally saved up enough to go to Vadoo and get analyzed, only to find that I had zero talent and would never bond anything stronger than a midgemite.” He laughed. “Went through a bad spell after that, but I learned to deal with it.”

“So, what brings you to Murkburg?”

“The same thing that brings anyone here. It’s the only place around where a body can catch the train or a riverboat.” He sipped his drink again as he spoke.

“Where are you headed?” I asked.

“Ultimately? Magoor, up north on the Kahet Sea. I’ve got some stops to make first though. Probably won’t get there for six months or more.”

“Business trip?”

“You could say that. I’m an agent for Whitetop Mining. They send me out here occasionally to tour the mining towns and make sure everything’s being run the way it should.”

“You don’t live in Whitestone, then? It sounded like you grew up there.”

“Southlake, the town north of here, actually. I left the Gistal about twenty years ago and headed east, to Sarka on Lake Showab. More opportunities, less chance of getting killed by bandits or a rogue handler.” He chuckled. “Folks out here know I came from the Gistal, though, so they’ll talk to me when they’d shut out an Ohran or Sarjan. People out here don’t like strangers, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said dryly. I ordered another drink, not worrying about getting drunk. Apparently, my bond purged alcohol from my system the same way it had the wolfion’s venom, so I’d either need to drink a hell of a lot or something magically enhanced to get a buzz.

“As you’ve guessed, I’m not from around here,” I went on. “What’s Whitestone like?”

“It’s a mining town,” he shrugged. “It revolves around the mines, the same way any mining town does. The saloon’s open day and night; the sun don’t matter much when you’re down in the mines, and the companies run shifts every hour of the day without pause. It’s not as quiet or neat as Murkburg – miners tend to be dirty and half-deaf, so they shout a lot. Sheriff Vaida keeps the town mostly orderly, but she don’t run quite as tight a ship as Sheriff Ramka does, so while you don’t have to worry about getting knifed in your sleep, you might have a group of miners rough you up for your coins if you’re not careful.” He looked at me curiously. “Why? You thinking about leaving Murkburg?”

“Murkburg’s a nice enough place, but there’s a lot of world to see,” I shrugged. “I just don’t know where to go next. I was thinking about Vadoo; it’s the biggest town in the area, isn’t it?”

“Yep, near big enough to be called a small city.” He took a drink and hesitated. “What are you looking to find, exactly, Nayik?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I’ll know it when I see it, though.”

He laughed. “In my experience, young handlers are either looking to make a name for themselves or to make money,” he noted. “You won’t find either of those in Vadoo, though.”

“No? Why not?”

“Well, if you want money, you go to where the coins are, and that’s the cities,” he explained. “All the rich folks live in the big cities because their money can buy them more things out there.” He looked around. “Here, in a place like Murkburg, you can’t get anything more with a thousand sonats than you could with fifty, not really. In someplace like Magoor, Fazil, or way out east in Takiha, though, a thousand sonats don’t go far at all, and if you’ve got less than a couple hundred thousand to your name, nobody looks twice at you.”

He took another sip of his drink before continuing. “Thing is, those cities are filled with people, Nayik. I hear tell that there’s more than a million of them in Takiha alone, and they say that Revelia’s got ten times that number. How the hell can one man make a name for himself when he’s surrounded by a million people, especially when there’s folks so rich, they can buy themselves as much reputation as they want? He can’t, that’s how, not unless he’s walking around with an army of Paragon beasties or has more money than good sense.

“That’s where a town like Murkburg is useful. You do something special here, and not only will everyone be talking about it within the hour, but word’ll spread up and down the Sonkhee faster than air. By now, I’ll bet if you traveled to Whitestone, Grimbark, Southfork, or Southlake, you’d find people at least knew your name.”

He shrugged. “Vadoo’s neither of those. It’s got more money than Murkburg, but not enough to make a man rich. It’s got less people than Magoor, but enough that a man’s name can get lost in it. Vadoo’s a place where folks end up when they need to be there, or they’re done trying to be somewhere else.”

I nodded. “So, if I were trying to make a name for myself, where would I go?”

“North,” he said promptly, pointing toward the saloon door. “Up past Northlake, the Western Line cuts between the Devada Forest and the Mahad Mountains, finally ending at Chatrig. There’s a whole string of little towns up that way, and not one of them are as civilized as Murkburg.” He snorted. “And if you’re really brave, keep heading north past the end of the line, toward the Uttar Forest. That land’s barely civilized, the law’s whatever the strongest decides it is, and a man can claim only what he’s strong enough to hold.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s what they say. Never been farther north than Chatrig, myself.”

“John, the timer’s getting close,” Sara murmured in my ear. “Your bonesnapper should be emerging from its chrysalis in a few minutes.”

I slammed back my drink and set the empty glass on the bar, nodding at Rajdra as I stood from my stool. “Thanks for the information, Raba,” I told the older man. “And the company.”

“Thank you for the drink – even if I did have to pay a hell of a lot for it,” he chuckled. “And I never mind talking to young folks; at least, when they have a mind to listen.”

“Well, I’d like to talk more, but I’ve got a bonesnapper that’s about to rank up, and I’d like to watch it happen. Maybe we can chat more before you leave.”

“Sorry, young man, I’m leaving on the train at sundown,” he shrugged, then paused. “You say your pet’s ranking up? Mind if I watch? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know if it’ll be all that interesting, but sure, if you’d like.”

I walked out of the saloon as Raba hurried to finish his drink and scramble out behind me, carrying a stiff leather suitcase and a dun-colored jacket. I slipped my hat on as I stepped outside, squinting as I glanced at the late afternoon sun to my left, where the sounds of sawing and hammering rang out as a handful of workers labored to repair the damage Paisley’s fire had done. They’d already fixed the railing and were working on the sidewalk. The feed store stood untouched; apparently, Niha had to wait for the next caravan from Grimbark for enough lumber to start repairs.

I stepped down into the street and walked across the dusty road to stand before the pulsing, rippling chrysalis. The bonesnapper’s cocoon had grown over the past few days and was now about six feet long and three feet across. Dust coated the slick surface of it thickly, dulling its original pinkish gleam and leaving it looking like part of a massive mud dauber’s nest.

Raba whistled from my side. “So, this is a chrysalis, eh?” he asked. “Looks different than I thought. I heard they were bright pink.”

“It was before the dust covered it,” I laughed.

“Hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “It looks to be decent sized; you say there’s a bonesnapper inside?”

“Well, there was. It should come out a bonecrusher, I think.”

“It should, yep. Bigger, faster, and meaner than bonesnappers. Plus, their Water Jet can cut through leather hide at close range.”

“That sounds useful,” I laughed. “Anything else you can tell me about them?”

“Only that it’ll only rank up one more time, to a skullsmasher. Big things half the height of a roadwalker that spray acid instead of just water. Real nasty.”

I started to reply, but before I could, Sara interrupted me.

“It’s time, John.”

I snapped my lips shut as the cocoon began to writhe and twist in front of me. The small ripples running along it turned into huge, moving lumps as the entire chrysalis seemed to convulse and shake. The dust cracked and fell off, revealing the membranous covering that had shifted from light pink to deep rose.

Suddenly, a spike erupted from one end of the cocoon, tearing through the outer layer. Thick liquid sprayed out from the inside and splattered into the dust, soaking into the dirt of the street and leaving behind splotches of slimy mud. I winced at the sudden stench; the liquid smelled like rotten fish, and the odor filled the air and my nostrils with equal vigor. The cocoon deflated steadily as the liquid erupted from the end, drenching three feet of road in a pool of slippery, reeking fluid.

I covered my nose and mouth and stepped back, noting that Raba did the same beside me, his face pained and his eyes watering. As I did, a taloned claw tore through the bottom of the fluid sac, unleashing another burst of slime that drenched the ground beneath it. The claw slid backward, ripping open a line in the cocoon, and the membrane suddenly gave way, dumping the entirety of its contents onto the muddy street. The creature within thrashed and writhed, ripping away the last of the cocoon and revealing my newly evolved pet at last.

The bonecrusher stood six feet in length, with another six feet of slender, flattened tail waving gently behind it. Its legs bent and hinged like a feline’s rather than an alligator’s, and it claws were longer than the bonsnapper’s had been in proportion to its feet, curling wickedly beneath it. Its body was coated in thick, muddy brown scales that gleamed in the sunlight, with bands of bright blue running down its sides. Thick spines jutted from its skull and ran down its back in three rows like a W, longer at the top and shortening as they went. Two more rows of short, bladed spikes swept along the sides of its tail. It opened its mouth, its jaws gaping as its sides heaved from the exertion of ripping free of its chrysalis, and its curved, serrated teeth shone evilly in its crimson throat. Its head was longer than the bonesnapper’s, its muzzle more elongated, but the thick muscles rippling along its neck promised that, if anything, its bite was probably even more powerful.

The creature swung its head toward me, and as it met my gaze, I felt the pressure of its presence swell in my mind. The creature’s thoughts railed at me, pushing against my consciousness with far greater strength than it had before. Caught off-guard, I almost lost my grip on it, but I quickly slammed my imaginary steel cage against its thoughts, walling it off from me. I pushed the cage as far as I could from my mind, noting as I did that it refused to shrink as much as it had previously. Eventually, the glittering globe of steel hung at the edge of my thoughts, twice as large as it had been and throbbing uncomfortably as it struggled to break free of my control. Its mental attack thwarted, the ‘crusher lowered its head and sank down into the muck beneath it in submission.

“Damn,” Raba said thickly, covering his nose as he spoke. “That’s both amazing and disgusting at the same time.”

“Isn’t birth always like that?” I joked.

“Ha! You’ve got the right of that!” He shook his head. “Sorry, but I’m gonna go get another drink to clear the taste of that from my nostrils. Good luck to you, boy, and if you’re ever in Magoor, take the time to look me up!”

“I will,” I nodded. As he walked away, I pulled out my Analyze card and channeled a little power into it, directing it at my new pet.

Bonecrusher (Greater)

Type: Wildwave

Bond: 199

Attack: 15 Defense: 17 Damage: 33

Speed: 27 Dodge: 32 Heal: 17

Special Attacks: Power Jet, Lunge

I whistled in appreciation, then immediately regretted it as the taste of rotted fish flowed into my mouth. I clamped my hand over my mouth and nose, taking another step back, and ordered the bonecrusher to head to the river to clean itself off. As it turned to amble away, an idea occurred to me, and I sent it a second command. The creature stopped and turned back toward the still-dripping chrysalis. Its mouth gaped wide, its throat bulged, and suddenly, a jet of water an inch thick shot from its maw with a hiss of displaced air. The jet ripped through the cocoon, cutting it free, then splattered into the slimy mud, spreading it out. I winced as the smell redoubled, then ordered the creature to turn off its ability and head to the river. I could feel its appreciation and the rumbling in its stomach; it was close to starving, and the river would have plenty for it to eat.

“Nice try, boy,” a familiar voice called out, and I looked back to see the sheriff standing across the street, shaking his head. “You’re gonna need to carry the rest of that mess and dump it in the river – downstream – and then start lugging buckets up here to thin out the stink some. Otherwise, the folk around here are gonna lynch you while you’re sleeping.”

I sighed and walked back toward the mess, scooping up the largest chunk of the cocoon. It felt soft, warm, and slippery in my hands, and the stench rising up from it made me want to hurl all over it. I choked my bile down, though, and began dragging it down the street toward the river. I only hoped I could get the mess cleaned up before Kimari closed her barbershop.

I was going to need two baths after this. Ranking the monster up had been worth it, I thought – but only just barely.