“Does it really not bother you?” asked Abby as she walked down the road next to Zeke. Neither of them had any interest in sticking around the scene of the ambush, so once they’d buried Reginald and the slain prisoners, they’d decided to resume their journey to Beacon. The assassins were left where they’d fallen. Corpses didn’t last long in the new world; the scavengers were incredibly efficient. So, there was little chance of anyone discovering anything more than a few burnt-out husks of wagons and carts.

“Does what not bother me?” Zeke asked, glancing in her direction. She seemed paler than usual.

“The killing,” she said. “The torture. Most people who are new in this world shy away from that kind of thing – especially when it comes to killing human beings.”

Zeke shrugged his broad shoulders, saying, “I don’t know. Not really. I don’t enjoy it, if that’s what you mean, but sometimes, things like that need to be done, right? Those men were monsters just as much as the trolls or the drachnids.”

The last was said with more of a challenging tone than Zeke intended, but he was still tense from what he’d had to do. He’d never tortured anyone before, and it had come surprisingly easily to him. That was a little scary, how little it affected him, and most of the tension came from how little information he’d gleaned. He hadn’t even gotten the man’s name, much less any hints about their motives. All he’d discovered was that they had been tasked with attacking and burning any other wagons or caravans that came by and disguising it as more goblin attacks while their fellows escorted the prisoners to the somewhere in the north. It was precious little information, and Zeke felt sure that if he’d been more skilled at interrogation, he could’ve found out more before the last of the assassin’s vitality drifted away.

“I know,” Abby said. “I’m not criticizing. I’ve killed people, too. I’m just trying to make sure that you’re not letting self-loathing build up inside you or something. I’ve seen that happen to people, and it’s not pretty when it finally explodes.”

“I’m fine,” Zeke said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

And to Zeke’s surprise, it was the unmitigated truth. He didn’t feel the slightest twinge of remorse. In fact, he’d felt worse about killing some of the trolls in their villages. At least they had only been acting according to their nature. The assassins, though – they knew better. They should’ve been better. And the fact that they’d chosen their path, that they had chosen to kill innocent people for no other reason than to satisfy their greed, meant that their lives were worth little in Zeke’s eyes.

Abby reached out to grip Zeke’s upper arm. When he felt her fingers squeezing his flesh, he glanced in her direction. With an earnest expression, she said, “We’re in this together, you know. We’re partners. I know you’re fine now, but if something’s ever going on with you, let me know. I can help.”

From anyone else, it might’ve been a hollow offer. However, he and Abby had been together for close to six months, now, and in that time, they’d developed a fair degree of trust. She was a good person, and what’s more, she knew precisely what he was going through. After all, she’d lived it right alongside him. It was a relationship that, though relatively young, far exceeded the constraints of mere friendship, forged through shared combat and mutual trust.

“Thanks,” he said. “But I really am fine. I won’t lie and say that’ll always be the case, but I’m not the kind of person who’ll go all to pieces for killing someone who needs killing. And I don’t think you are, either. They were bad guys. They murdered innocents. And they needed to be put down.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Abby said, her eyes flashing. She released his arm, adding, “Just glad we’re on the same page.”

They continued walking, with Pudge trudging along behind. The bear cub had an impressive constitution, especially for his age, but he was a bit terse because Zeke wouldn’t allow him to follow every interesting scent he came across. If he weren’t a bear, Zeke would’ve compared it to the attitude of a pouting child.

“Is the poison still bothering you?” Abby asked after a few more minutes.

Zeke nodded. He barely noticed it anymore, but where each of the crossbow bolts had hit him, there was a pool of poison threatening to spread throughout his body. With every passing second, it ate through his flesh, contained only by the residual vitality he’d stolen from the assassins. However, the longer he kept the life energy with him, the weaker it became. Eventually, the poison would win.

“Four spots,” he said, pointing to where each of the bolts hit him. None had gone deep, stopped by the combination of his hardened leather armor and his massive endurance, but they’d gone deep enough to infect him with the poison. “I’m using the vitality to sort of corral it and keep it from spreading, but it won’t last all that much longer. I think I might need to visit that Church of Purity you were talking about once we get to Beacon.”

If he made it that far, he thought. He could already feel his energy waning, the result of manipulating his own life force to supplement that which he stole from the assassins. Without it, he’d have already succumbed.

“They’ll ask questions,” she said. “And the Crystal Spiders probably have informants in the Church. They’d be stupid not to.”

He shrugged, wincing as the motion irritated his wounds. It was getting worse. “I don’t think I have much choice,” he stated. “I can’t beat this on my own. Maybe if I had a couple hundred monsters to kill, and they agreed not to fight back…otherwise, this is way past what I can beat.”

And that fact galled him. Zeke was so used to being nigh-on invincible that he had little experience in how to react when he discovered the truth – that he was tougher than most, but he could fall prey to the dangers of this world as easily as anyone else. That he needed someone else to save him…

It just didn’t sit well, and admitting it to Abby made things even worse, for reasons he didn’t really want to think about. But it was his job to be strong, to be the bulwark; anything else was a failure, so far as he was concerned.

More than that, though, the poison’s promise of eating him from the inside out gave him pause. It wouldn’t be quick. His body wouldn’t allow that. But it would be excruciating. He was used to pain, though, and while he obviously didn’t enjoy it, he could deal with that. The weakness, though – that was what truly frightened Zeke. The image of him lying in a bed and wasting away was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. He’d seen it with his little brother, Tommy. And it terrified him that he might soon find himself in a similar position.

“I think I might know somebody who can help you,” Abby said. “It’ll be expensive, but he’s one of the best healers in the city. And he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“That’s the most important thing,” Zeke agreed. “And you said I’m rich, right? So, money shouldn’t be an issue. And I still have all the chitin, the drachnid eyes, and some of the other odds and ends.”

“Yeah – must be nice to be rich,” Abby muttered.

“You know it’s half yours, right?”

“What? We agreed –”

“Look – I don’t care about money,” Zeke said. “And as far as I’m concerned, if you get stronger, so do I. We’re partners, aren’t we? We need to start thinking like a team. So, what’s mine is yours. All of it.”

“Even the carapaces you got from the queen and the champion?”

“Well…

“I’m kidding!” she said, obviously trying to distract him from the pain. It didn’t really work. “I know you need some real armor. This leather stuff isn’t really doing the trick. And we both know you’re never going to be the sneaky, dodging type.”

“My agility is higher than yours,” Zeke reminded her.

She threw her shoulders back and raised her nose in the air as she said, “Stats aren’t everything,” in her best impression of an aristocratic voice. She relaxed, adding, “Seriously – technique matters. When we get to Beacon and after you get healed, we should see about getting you a teacher. Someone who specializes in your…ahem…style.”

“Go ahead. Say it.”

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything!” she insisted.

“Tell me how my ‘style’ is just me running up to an enemy and waving my club,” he said. “About how I can’t go a single fight without jumping into the air. Or whatever other critique you’re just bursting to send my way.”

She smirked. “Fine!” Abby said. “You fight like an untrained ogre, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Because that’s mostly true. I bet even those trolls you spent all that time fighting were more technically sound than you were.”

“Well, there was this one…”

“Oh, my God! They were, weren’t they? You’re less polished than a literal troll?” she exclaimed, obviously enjoying ribbing Zeke.

“Just the one!” he insisted. “And he was their warlord. Like, the boss of my dungeon. And he was level twenty-one!”

“Oh, well that makes ALL the difference,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. “A level twenty-one troll? And a warlord? I bet you never even considered using fire on them, huh?”

“W-what?”

“Fire,” she said. “Trolls are incredibly weak to fire. Did…did you not know that? Wait – you fought them straight-up? Like, weapon to weapon? Are you an idiot?”

“Uh…maybe?”

Abby shook her head. “I sort of just thought you…I don’t know…that you killed them like a normal person,” she said. “It’s actually kind of impressive that you’re still alive. You know, in a Darwin award kind of way.”

“Sorry I didn’t know all the rules,” he muttered, a little annoyed. “But I kind of got dropped at the bottom of a freaking cave and spent the next two years of my life being constantly attacked by trolls, weird, octopus-monkey things, flying fish, and a bunch of other crap that wanted to eat me. So, excuse me if I didn’t magically know that trolls were weak to fire.”

Abby looked at him, stunned by his outburst. One second, they’d been bantering back and forth, and the next, he’d taken offense. Her surprise was replaced with anger, but it didn’t last long before transforming into understanding. “Shit,” she said. “I always do this. I’m sorry. I just get a little carried away sometimes. I take things too far. I know there’s no way you could’ve known any of that.”

“It’s fine,” Zeke growled.

“No,” Abby said. “It’s not. I’m sorry. You’re over there dealing with that poison, and I’m making fun of something you really couldn’t control. It was cruel and uncalled for.”

“I said it’s fine,” Zeke repeated. In truth, it wasn’t. He didn’t so much mind when Abby ribbed him about his technique; as a former athlete, he’d dealt with that kind of thing often enough that it didn’t really stick anymore. But for some reason – maybe it was the pain, fatigue, or the still-lingering anger over what the assassins had done – his anger blossomed when she criticized how he’d worked his way through the troll caverns.

In those caves, he’d been in complete survival mode; anything less, and he’d have been killed a hundred times over. And that hadn’t left a lot of room for rational thought or planning. He was incredibly lucky he’d possessed enough of his wits to combat the curse runes, much less find the trolls’ elemental weaknesses. It was enough that he could kill them with his mace; anything else had been entirely superfluous.

As they continued down the road, he glanced at Abby, who wore an expression of uneasy contrition. Or perhaps it was fear – not of him, but that she’d crossed a line, and she had no idea how he might react. Did she truly expect him to abandon her because she took her teasing a little too far? It wasn’t even that annoying, if Zeke was honest. He was just in pain, and he’d let his frustrations loose.

“Like I said – it’s fine,” he said, running his hand through his hair. The motion made him wince once again as the poisoned wounds shifted. “It’s just been a long couple of days.”

“You sure? I really didn’t mean anything by –”

“You were joking around,” Zeke said. “I get that. And I like that you’re comfortable enough with me to tease me. Just…you know…read the room a little bit. Probably don’t rake a guy over the coals when he’s got poison literally eating him from the inside out.”

Zeke forced a smile that probably came off as more of a grimace, but it had the desired effect. Abby said, “Yeah – I’ve never been the most tactful person, I suppose. My husband used to…”

When she trailed off, Zeke asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” the blonde woman said. “I just hate the person I used to be, you know? Sometimes, I look back, and I can’t help but wonder how I let myself get pushed around so easily. My husband was a horrible person. Most of the time, I don’t even think about my old life, about who I was. But every now and then, it just sneaks up on me. Like, just now. I wish I could just cut those memories out of my head and move on.”

“Believe it or not,” Zeke said. “I completely agree. For me, it was my dad. My mom, too, in a way. But she wasn’t a bad person, just a pushover. She always gave him what he wanted. I used to resent her for that, but I think I’m starting to realize that she was just trying to survive the only way she knew how.”

“I think that’s true of all of us.”

Zeke nodded, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he sank into thought as he tried to distract himself from the poison burning through his flesh. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “Come on. Let’s pick up the pace. I don’t know how much longer I can keep the poison at bay.”