“…You’re assuming I’m interested in either,” said Jenn.

Topher curled his lips ponderously. “Alright, I’ll put it another way: Which is more your type?”

Jenn stared at the ground as they walked, possibly to be sure she didn’t trip again. “Does it matter?”

“Slake my curiosity,” shrugged Topher.

She let out a sigh. “And what if I was interested in you?” she asked, coyly.

Topher laughed. “It still wouldn’t answer my question. And I’m sure I’d be flattered, but I’m not interested in you that way.”

“Oh, I see,” Jenn rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’re going to insult me and expect me to share whatever secret desires I happen to have? Bold, Topher. Very attractive.”

“It’s nothing personal,” said Topher, matter-of-factly. “Another time, another place, yeah - I’d be all over you. But here? No.”

There were a few more silent steps before Jenn said, “So you’re weirded out by all this too, huh? Too freaked out to be interested in anyone?”

“Not at all,” frowned Topher. “I’m just too smart to get involved with anyone I’ll be working closely with. Let Jack and Kevin deal with the drama of interparty relationships.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “I mean, come on - we’re adventurers, right? We run around finding treasure, killing bad guys, and saving people. That’s our job. With that comes fame, money, and power. We’ll be absolute rock stars in the near future - I’ll be able to go to any tavern and pick up any girl I want as often as I want.”

Jenn was about to say something when a muffled rasping came from the shadows behind them. They turned immediately in it’s direction. “Was that… laughing?” asked Jenn.

They waited a few heartbeats.

“Possibly…” said Topher. “Hang on, there’s two people coming. Let’s… let’s back a little off the road, yeah?”

They did so, finding a nice unobserved corner around a cart. A young couple was walking toward them, arm in arm, positively giddy from the pleasure of each other’s company. The girl had her free hand on her chest, holding a necklace.

“This way, off the road,” she said, pulling her partner.

“In the circus? Really?” said the boy. “You sure that thing’s working right? Oh, I get it - you just want to drag me into some dark corner so you can do unspeakable things to me. All right, if I have to…”

She swung around until her body was pressed up against his. He looked down at her, face twitching in an effort to suppress a smile. She took her hand and ran it from his shoulder to his chest. Then, looking deep into his eyes, she said “Get over yourself.” She broke off from him and started into the maze of carts and tents. He stopped restraining his smile and went after her.

“I don’t think that’s who was laughing,” whispered Topher. “Didn’t it sound like it was closer?”

Jenn shushed him, pointing back to the young couple, who an older man with a torch had stopped. “What business have you here, then?” He stared at the couple with a half-squinted eye and a scowl.

The girl waved her hand at the man, muttering something. In seconds, the man brightened up, seemingly to have just recognized them.

“Sorry to disturb you,” said the girl. “But could we just take a look around?”

“We think our friend is around here,” said the boy.

The man nodded emphatically and insisted he show them around, for which he was thanked. They all walked off together.

“Did they know him?” asked Jenn.

“I think they cast a spell. Charm Person, probably,” said Topher. “Which is interesting. I still don’t think they’re the ones who made that sound, though.”

Jenn tapped a finger thoughtfully against her arm. “Well, we’ll just keep an eye and an ear out, right?”

Topher smiled. “Right. By the way, you never answered my question….”

*******

In an effort to make him uncomfortable, I kept staring at Heller. It didn’t work.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, trying to sound like I had an enigmatic ace up my sleeve. My best bet to get out of this was to put on a ‘better-than’ act and hope it stuck.

He shrugged. Two guards stepped arm in arm with him, ready for me to try something. I noticed that they didn’t bind my arms, which got me curious as to whether the collar had a function other than symbolism. My Enhance Ability was still securely wrapped around my brain, so I checked if my magic limb could still plunge the depths….

That was it. My magical limb couldn’t… move, for lack of a better metaphysical term. Unnoticed until thought about, like coming down with an inexplicable urge to wiggle one’s toes when one’s shoes were too tight. It was maddening. It felt like a cramp in my brain.

There was a loud Crack! from the gavel, followed by Mercario bellowing “Sold! Now there’ll be a brief recess.” I turned to see him marching towards us. By the time I could see the whites in his eyes, a small crinkle of stress had crowned his forehead. “What in the Hells do you think you’re doing?” he growled quietly at Heller. “Who is this?”

For the first time, Heller’s charm slipped. “I… He’s valuable. When I saw how upset you were that I recommended against Ky—the captain, the wizard, I thought another magically active person would—“

Mercario cut him off with the back of his hand. “Idiot! That wizard was supposed to be a favor for Consul Halloway himself! He wanted her out of his hair!”

A female wizard captain? Interesting… though I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

Mercario’s face burned red. He took a glance back at the buyers, then tried to restrain himself. He leaned in. “One person doesn’t equal another, Elias. You know that.”

Heller cradled his cheek. “Yes, sir,” he said.

As I watched him humbled before this man of the magnificent mustache, I finally saw Heller for what he really was - an evil toady that was scared witless of his master. In that moment, he seemed more real to me, and not the silver slivering serpent that screamed inscrutable sinisterness. I felt my brain begin to turn down the alarms that warned me of him. I still didn’t like the guy, of course, but now I had a crack in the veneer I could pick at, and that made all the difference.

“Still good?” Kevin again. Seemed the collar didn’t stop Messages from coming in.

I didn’t respond, as I was under careful examination by Mercario. When our eyes met I gave him a courtly bow. “Ringmaster Mercario, I presume?” I said.

He did a sort of amused exhale through the nose. “Change his memory of this event and send him off with whatever you promised to lure him here - from your own pocket.”

“But sir, I—“ Heller was stopped with nothing but a look.

The only way to change someone’s memory (that I knew of) was via the Modify Memory spell. If Heller could cast that on his own power and not with an item of some sort, it’d mean he was at least ninth level. What worried me was how scared of Mercario he was - how powerful does one have to be to scare the daylights out of someone like Heller?

It was all the more reason to sell my cover. “Gentlemen, please,” I said, holding my hands up as defenselessly as possible. “There’s no need for that. I came here to meet the Consul of Colme - that’s what was promised to me.” I gave a hint of a smile, raised my inner eyebrows together, and lowered my upper eyelids a skosh. “I’m a… soon to be family friend, if you know what I mean.”

Heller and Mercario looked at me, then to each other, then back to me.

“You can’t be serious,” said Heller, parroting my line from earlier.

“But I am,” I said, confidence from my Enhance Ability burning brightly. I reached into my coat pocket, which caused a start from the guards. “Easy, easy,” I said, slowly pulling out the sealed letter while making sure my dagger stayed concealed. “This should be all I need.”

Mercario took it, examined the seal. He then panned up to me.

I kept the look of smug satisfaction. “If you’d kindly hand it to him,” I requested. “And have your lackey remove this collar, please.”

Heller didn’t look like he cared for being called a lackey. “Why would you want to perform here to meet the Consul?”

“Oh, I personally find unexpected house visits to be rather… invasive annoyances. Social gatherings are much more suited to introductions.” I tapped the collar. “This isn’t removing itself, you know.”

“I think you can have it on, for now,” said Mercario. “I’ll see what the Consul wants to do with this.”

I shrugged, like it didn’t matter either way.

Mercario made his way to the seating area and bent the ear of an older man in the front row center, hopefully the Consul. After a few seconds the letter was passed, examined, and opened.

“Feeling alright?” asked Heller probingly, likely in response to me tensing.

“Better than that handprint on your face.” I couldn’t truly act nonchalant and look away. If Teague had done something wrong writing that letter - deliberately or not - I’d be in trouble. I couldn’t fully read the man’s face at distance, but the best I could guess was he read it with passive interest. I took a quick mental inventory, just to be safe.

The man seemed to finish the letter and said something to the person seated next to him, who nodded and stood up, motioning to the others around him. As a group, everyone moved away from the Consul, leaving him and Mercario together in the center of the row. Another word or two was said to Mercario, who then waved me over.

At least I was being given an audience. “See you around, Elias,” I said, hopping to. The Consul likely wasn’t someone to be kept waiting.

“Still good?” came Kevin from a Message.

*******

“Yeah. Gonna meet the Consul,” responded Jack.

So the Consul was there, thought Kevin. Slavery done in secret is likely illegal, but if the head of the city participates, there probably wasn’t anyone in town who would stop it. He wondered if Minerva happened to be nearby.

His ears tingled. They would simply do that now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He’d learned to be tolerant, as it usually meant there was something worth listening to in the myriad sounds his elven hearing never stopped picking up. It did seem to give the impression that his ears had minds of their own, which was weird. At least they seemed to be on his side. All he had to do was concentrate….

A pair of feet were walking toward him.

He could hear their weight press into the soft ground, stick slightly as they pulled up, and repeat the process, all while increasing in volume at a steady rate. They’d walk by him shortly.

He wasn’t too worried. If he had been seen as he was following Jack, they’d have done something about it earlier. He was confident in his his hiding spot - between a tent and a wagon, with crates piled up between the gaps. The setup reminded him of his makeshift childhood forts. All that was missing was a “No Girls Allowed” sign.

As he predicted, the footsteps turned and went another direction, fading into silence.

Danger passed, he readied an image in his mind and brought a copper wire to his lips. “Jack’s meeting the Consul,” he whispered, biting the wire.

“Roger-roger. And Congratulations,” was Topher’s response.

Kevin blinked. “Congratulations?” he sent back.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Topher being the ineffable mystery that he was, Kevin decided to trust that it was good advice.

He hadn’t told them about the slave auction. There was a definite chance Jenn might try to do something here and now to stop it, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Of course, excluding that first day, she hadn’t seemed the type to run off half-cocked. Was heroism just a hidden facet of her personality? No, it was more likely she felt something personal about saving a baby - that might explain why she had such insight into Marisa’s situation. Something to ask her about, sometime, when they happened to find themselves alone.

His ears tingled again. Conversation, sixty feet away, getting closer, this time from the opposite direction. As he had a wall of crates between him and the speakers, the words themselves were hard to make out. The group was talking more quietly than usual conversation - not whispered or deliberately sneaky, just quiet. There were three of them, two males and a female. The cadence and mood of their voices was amiable.

A fourth voice, masculine, gruff, suspicious and loud, joined in. “Grot! Who are these two?” He stopped the group thirty feet away. Kevin attributed his knowing of their distance to just another random feature of his pointed ears.

One of the males raised his volume to meet the newcomer. “Hello, Fane. They’re alright. They’re just looking for someone.”

“And you brought them here at night? On this night?” Kevin noted that the average carnies were aware that this night was special. “No, take them back to the road. Why would you even let them look around? If they know someone working here, they can come back in the morning.”

“Fane, we’re not around anything… vital, and I’m going to be with them the whole time. What’s the harm?”

Fane wasn’t having any of it. “Who are they looking for? Why didn’t you leave them at the road while you sent for him?”

The last male entered the conversation. “Please, sir. I’m sure he’s close.”

The female also joined. “Actually, I can probably say how close.” She talked as she took a few steps orthogonal to the direction they were heading. “Oh! He’s only about thirty feet away!”

Kevin’s heart nearly stopped. For the first time, he hoped his ears had failed him.

*******

The Consul was a man in his fifties, maybe sixties, with a full head of grey hair. He had a small frame, and wore clothes that did nothing to obscure that fact. He sat, legs crossed, with a look of total relaxation about him; like he had never needed a sense of urgency in his life. His eyes - a glacial blue color I’d only seen on Siberian huskies - scanned the letter one more time. Without looking up, he said, “Sit.”

It was a command, and I obeyed.

I noted the Halloway signet ring on his finger as he folded up the letter. “Continue with the auction, Mercario.” His voice was nothing more than an overflow of his calm and confidence.

“You… plan on letting him stay?”

“Yes.”

Mercario shook his head. “I can’t have that, Halloway. No one can sit in on the auction without being vetted, and no one can leave until they’ve made a purchase - we have no idea who this man is or if he even has two coppers to his name. I was planning on changing his memory of his time here - if you like, I can inform Elias to plant a date and place of your choosing into his head.“

The Consul waited for him to finish. “Continue with the auction,” he said.

I kept up my “better than” demeanor as Mercario looked at me and then back to the Consul. “He can’t be trusted,” he said. “But if that’s your wish, then I hope you’ll consider my bending of the rules to be a personal favor…?” He let the end hang expectantly.

“Continue with the auction, Mercario.”

A scowl rippled across the ringmaster’s face. With a huff that seemed to come more from his mustache than his mouth, he left us.

I sat quietly. Etiquette-wise, I was pretty sure I should let the Consul to speak first. Enough seconds of silence passed, however, for me to consider that I actually had no idea what any etiquette in Dungeonia was, let alone this.

-Always defer to your betters-

Before I could worry about which skill just violated my consciousness, the Consul gestured with the letter and said, “This introduced you as Mac.” He never turned to look at me. We both just sat facing the stage. “I’m Brame Halloway, Consul of Colme.”

“A pleasure,” I said.

He hummed dispassionately, as though pleasantries bored him. “Two likelihoods exist,” he said. “If this letter is true to word, then I not only owe you thanks for saving my nephew, but would be a fool to not pursue a professional relationship.” We crafted the letter to say that I helped Teague out of a tight spot and to infer that I was a liaison for an organized crime syndicate with interests in a “co-prosperity” relationship with Colme.

“Or,” he folded his hands and rested them gently on his crossed leg, “you’re one of the adventurers he was supposed to make disappear. You match the general description, I believe.” He did nothing to gauge my reaction, of which I did my best to give none.

“If you weren’t sure,” I said, “then why didn’t you take Mercario up on his offer to change my memory? Have me investigated?”

“If the latter is true, then you have friends that are nearby. Changing your memory would only help if they’re not aware of the situation. And of course, such magic can always be reversed. If the former is true, it’d be unnecessary. I’m best served by keeping you close, for now.”

I had a feeling that there was little I could say to rattle him. “And what if I was sent to kill you?” I asked.

“For those in my position, death is simply an inconvenience.”

“Of course.” An inconvenience? Yikes. I had been hoping to learn more about defenses and bodyguards, but the fact that he had someone on retainer powerful enough to raise him from the dead spoke volumes in its own right. “So how will you determine my veracity?”

“How indeed,” he said. Mercario was up at the podium again, and a small, shackled boy of about five or six was on the block. The Consul’s head perked up half an inch. “He’ll do.”

“We’ll begin the bidding at fifty gold—I see fifty.” Mercario nodded to the Consul. “Do I hear sixty?”

No one else dared make a move. The silence was deafening.

Crack! “Sold!” Shattered the silence.

A guard was going to lead the boy elsewhere when the Consul ordered, “Bring him here.”

It was apparently an odd request. The guard had to check before doing anything, but Mercario motioned him along to where we were. I had a bad feeling. On their way I glanced at the Consul to see what he was thinking, only to find his face was expressionless. As the boy was moved closer, I noted that his face was emotionless, as well.

The Consul leaned slightly toward me, still facing forward. “You have a dagger concealed on your person,” he said. “Slit the boy’s throat.”

Bad feeling confirmed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Slit the boy’s throat,” he said, as though ordering soup instead of salad.

I had an urge to start fidgeting maniacally, but suppressed it. “I don’t take orders from you. Not yet, at least.” The chained boy arrived.

“Hold him there,” said the Consul. Then, for the first time, he turned his eyes to me - clear, cold eyes that could freeze the Nile. “Either such an act is nothing to you, as it would be if you work for whom you say you do, or you have a sense of morality, which would mean you’re either an adventurer or your organization isn’t worth my time. I suppose there’s a chance that you’re adventuring without any morals, in which case I could buy whatever silence or services I need from you.”

If nothing else, I had to admire his ability to frame morality in a light that advanced his goals.

I held his stare, knowing that if I looked at the boy, I wouldn’t be able to keep my poker face. I wasn’t about to kill a kid - I may be a coward, but I’m not despicable. That being said, I will admit that in the deepest, darkest parts of me, there was a seductive coo telling me that I’d be saving him from a lifetime of suffering.

But like most extraneous thoughts, I ignored it. If the jig was up, I could take the dagger, plunge it into the Consul, and run like mad. We wanted to know what the deal with government figures and the Ware was, though, so that’d only be a partial victory - a bit like using an “L-block” in the groove you had planned for a Tetris.

“They found me! Gotta bail!” Kevin’s voice clawed at my ear.

Of all the—I couldn’t even react, let alone respond when the Consul was less than two feet from my face and not about to look away.

With luck, though, it might cause a long enough distraction to get me more time to think. “You seem to misunderstand my role in the organization,” I said, slowly. “I find prospective clients and set up working relationships. I don’t get my hands dirty - I have people for that, if the need comes. Besides which, my personal morality or lack thereof has no bearing here. All I do is make introductions. Connections. What happens after is not my concern.”

It worked. By the time I’d finished, dozens of pitched shouts could be heard from outside the tent. People were turning their heads every which way as new voices joined the disturbance, and I used the opportunity to look at something besides my situation. I noted that Heller was nowhere to be found.

Mercario stopped the auction. Raising his hands, he announced, “Everyone stay here, please; for your own protection.” His eyes bore into me as he strode across the platform. “Watch him,” he growled to two thugs. He made his way to the opposite side of the tent I entered from and was out via another exit.

“I don’t suppose this is the work of some friends of yours?” said the Consul.

I smirked at him. “It sounds like there’s an intruder,” I said. “I assure you, my friends wouldn’t have been spotted.”

“I see. Back to the problem at hand…” He turned to the guard. “You know who I am?”

The guard, an early-twenties brute, furled his brow. “Uh, yeah,” he grunted.

“You know better than to disobey an order from me.” It wasn’t a question. “Put your steel to the boy’s throat.”

The brute did so, his only hesitation coming from his surprise at the request.

I knew better than to look at the boy, but I could feel him tense from my seat. “Un… Uh…” he moaned, the sound reminding me of back when I cowered as a child at the thought of getting antiseptic slathered on a bramble cut. It seemed he was smart enough not to talk, at least.

The Consul nodded gently towards me. “On this man’s command, you will execute the boy.” Then to me: “You won’t get your hands dirty. Prove to me who you are.”

‘Who I was’ was a desperate coward in an increasingly disturbing world. “You just changed the parameter of the test. This isn’t about morality, now - you’re just asking me to relay your order.”

“It’s an order you have the power to stop.”

He got me there. “You know, I come from a background of ‘Waste not, want not.’”

“I come from a background of ‘If you have power, use it.’ This slave isn’t being wasted, in any case.”

Sick bastard. The Consul wasn’t someone to be swayed by words, which meant I was woefully ill-equipped to handle this situation. My mind ran around in a frantic search for a way out.

“I assume that failing to do so would result in me getting tortured for information on whoever my friends happen to be?” I said.

“Very astute.”

Which meant he’d kill me when he discovered I didn’t have any useful information on my fake crime syndicate. So there wasn’t a way out. Not for me and the boy. The sounds of the search for Kevin had been dying down, leaving nothing but the child’s horrified breathing. I never felt so alone.

The whole thing was a melodramatic farce - so much so that I started to wonder if it was just an elaborate prank. Or maybe more of a trick question. Did the Consul choose a young boy for a reason? Was he trying to use innocence to tell me something about what he wanted? What if he chose the boy because he knew I’d never do anything to hurt him? Or maybe the Consul liked playing twisted games, and was just trying to make me discover something about myself before laughing and letting the boy go?

Probably not, and it was stupid to think so. I’d been stupid this whole time - I should’ve known something like this would happen. I knew this man was evil and powerful when I came in. Such people are known for dangerous tests, and I walked in and sat down without thinking anything of it. I hated myself for not seeing any of this coming. I should’ve taken Topher with me, or had more precautions in case Kevin abandoned me. There was enough frustration twisting my sanity that I was in danger of flipping out and going berserk.

I willed myself to calm down, though the thought of stabbing the Consul in his stupid old man face kept persisting. I might not survive, but it’d feel good. He was mind-bogglingly evil. I’d be doing the world a favor, and also myself; I doubted I’d be able to get a decent night’s sleep knowing he still existed.

Or maybe I could manage to grab the boy, get out of the tent, and make it to the road. I was third level and could take a hit or two. Of course, the whole camp was in a state of high alert. I’d also be the most wanted man in the area, having either killed or pissed off a high-end political figure. And I’d likely have to take care of the boy. And I’d have to do it all without my magic and only the dagger in my pocket. It made my heart ache, being powerless.

My downward spiral of thoughts suddenly broke - more noise erupted from just outside the tent. It was a symphony of steel, stabs and surprised screams. I knew immediately - Jenn and Topher must have heard all the commotion over Kevin and came running. I silently thanked Iamai.

“More friends of yours?” asked the Consul.

I shook my head. “My people don’t stage assaults.” I turned to him with a concerned frown. “I think the situation here is rapidly deteriorating. Maybe we should take this elsewhere?” With luck, there’d be enough confusion outside to cover me helping the boy escape - then I could tell him to let the the red-headed elf and the half-orc know what happened.

“You’re not s’ppose’ to leave the tent,” grunted the brute in monosyllabic monotone. “It’s not safe.”

I grinned. “That’s why we’d have you with us, buddy. Mercario was only worried that your people might mistake us for intruders. If you came with, we’d be fine, wouldn’t we?”

His head bobbed up and down, like he was trying to think something through. “Uh… Yeah, that’s right.” He readjusted his grip on the boy.

I was going to ask the Consul what he thought when one of the outside guards tumbled ass over head into the tent. He slid into a sprawl, leaving a trail of blood. “I think that’s our cue to go. There’s—“

I stopped. It wasn’t Topher or Jenn that came in next.

A blonde elf strode inside. She wore leather reinforced with metallic studs, and carried a dented shield and a bloody rapier. One of the guards ran at her with a mace, but he was deflected harmlessly away by the shield. Continuing the movement, she brought the sword straight into his stomach, the blow punctuated with an explosion of golden light. She made no indication of fear or struggle or relief in the kill, it was just done. She was just as cold as the Consul, though it simply emanated from her, as opposed to the focused dispassion from him.

I recalled my conversation with the black-eyed man, and the discussion with the group afterwards. A skinny blonde elf paladin, dead to the world.

“All slavers will die.” The statement encompassed the entire room.

I knew there were elves in the area, and that some of them had to be blonde, and possibly there were even a few that were paladins. I knew that there was a chance those guys lied to us, or possibly just misremembered or misheard certain things, like ‘New York’. I knew that it was still a possibility that me and my friends were the only ones from our world in Dungeonia.

Yet, somehow instinctually, I knew that she was exactly who I thought she was. There were others trapped in this world. Others who didn’t understand what was going on. Others that wanted to go home. I had finally found one of us.

And she was going to kill me.