Cotanaku’s jail was just a few cells in the back of an empty office that was clearly labeled as the Sheriff’s Office. With no sheriff - Garyung had explained it was an elected position, and so hadn’t yet been filled - the office itself was bare, but the cells behind it were still functional.

The office wasn’t entirely unused. Gavinkim was seated behind the desk, arms crossed over his enormous chest. He shot to his feet at attention when Garyung led the way into the building. It was clear that he was a devoted soldier first and foremost. But even his professionalism couldn’t hide the uncertainty that crossed his features when he saw Kaldalis enter the room as well.

Wordlessly, he jerked his head back towards the cells at the rear of the building.

Garyung gestured for Kaldalis to lead the way back.

There were four cells, with a narrow hallway running through the middle, and two beds in each. Two were occupied. One was occupied by a slovenly-looking adventurer passed out on the floor next to the bed.

The other was occupied by a familiar red-skinned Vathon.

Kaldalis saw that the cells themselves had barred walls, and so she watched his approach long before he stood before her. She was still wearing the revealing armor she’d worn when they’d first met, despite the neatly-folded pile of black-and-white prison clothes on the bed behind her.

“Good evening, Kaldalis,” Onirioago said. Her greeting was husky and seductive, just as he anticipated. She reached up and forward, resting her hands on the bars of her cell and leaning against them, angling her body down in a way that put her chest on display beneath her cocky smirk.

Kaldalis’s stomach rolled over, and the taste of bile filled his throat.

Even now, after all this, she thought she could seduce him. It made him feel a combination of disgust and disappointment.

But not in her. He was disappointed in all the media her character design had obviously based on. He was disgusted at how effective this would be against the sorts of heroes her tropes were normally tested against. And a little bit angry at himself for enjoying that sort of stuff when he was younger.

Fortunately, Kaldalis now wasn’t the horny teenager Dylan had been then.

“I thought the line was ‘hello, Clarice,’” Garyung muttered as he took up position on Kaldalis’s flank, crossing his arms. “No respect for the classics.”

Gavinkim’s chest rumbled in a low growl as he took up position on Kaldalis’s other side. Even though the pair of Bhogad probably filled Onirioago’s vision at Kaldalis’s sides, she didn’t flinch or adjust.

Her eyes - and everything else - were directed solely at Kaldalis, as if he were the only man in the world.

“You asked for me,” Kaldalis said. He kept his eyes fixed on Onirioago’s, refusing to acknowledge the mile of cleavage on display beneath her chin, or the arc of her spine accentuating her other assets.

“I did,” she said. Her eyes crawled down over him slowly, and her tail twitched and lashed like that of a cat about to pounce. “I’m sure you can imagine why.”

Kaldalis managed not to physically shudder at the feeling of her gaze on him again, but it wasn’t easy. He could never forget that she had threatened - with terrifying confidence - that she would make him a drug-addled slave.

But he wanted something from her now.

If she could put an end to these attacks, he could submit to being eye candy for a few minutes.

Only for a few minutes.

“You know why I’m here,” Kaldalis said, trying not to reveal just how uncomfortable he was. “We’ve got a problem, and I need a solution. I am perfectly capable of reasoning out my own answer, but I’m told you can save me a little bit of time.” Against his every instinct, he stepped closer to the bars of her cell, well within arm’s reach, daring her to try something. “You have thirty seconds to convince me that you know something worth my time.”

Her smirk only grew wider as he stepped closer. Onirioago’s eyes flicked over him with much more intent.

She wasn’t ogling; she was weighing options.

Her eyes on his arms and shoulders weren’t admiring his muscles, she was checking for his readiness. The gaze trailing up his throat wasn’t sizing up the cords of his neck for her lips but instead she was examining a potential line of attack. She didn’t lunge, but she took the first five of her thirty seconds trying to figure out what she could accomplish if she did.

“When I said I would talk to him alone,” she said at last, her voice suddenly lacking the seductive tone as she addressed Garyung, “I meant alone.”

“Anything you tell him, he will tell us,” Garyung said with a shrug. “It’s a waste of time for us to leave and make him convey this to us. You know how precious an Expedition Leader’s time is. Help me out here.”

Despite his refusal, Onirioago’s smile didn’t falter. She just shook her head slowly. “You don’t have to leave. I’m happy to take my time committing this sight to memory. A proud man brought to heel by his better. You have no idea what this is doing for me.” Her eyes roamed over Kaldalis’s body in a way that made him feel naked and vulnerable in the worst way. “But if you want me to talk, it will be alone.”

Garyung tried to fix her with a glare, but she refused to take her eyes off Kaldalis. Once she made it clear that this was not a negotiation, he put a hand on Kaldalis’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked. “We don’t need to do this. She’s just going to save us time, that’s all.”

“Time is not important,” Kaldalis said through gritted teeth. “Only life is important. Every night we don’t have an answer, someone dies. And every night, we have a chance to find out that they’re not just targeting us.”

“You,” Onirioago said slowly, her seductive tone back, “are wise beyond your years.”

“I’m just going to be outside the door,” Garyung said, taking a step back. “Don’t let her talk you into anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? If she has a price, you don’t have to be the one to pay it.”

Onirioago’s grin turned to a smirk again.

She’d known her victory was inevitable. Even behind bars, she was in control of the situation. Only the smallest advantage was all she needed. A little bit of information, and she had the new Expedition Leader - now the leader of a newborn nation - dancing to her tune.

“Gavinkim,” Garyung said, gesturing towards the door in a silent command.

“I will kill you,” Gavinkim announced, breaking his silence. His voice was gravelly, as if it was the first thing he’d said aloud in weeks. “If I see you outside of this cell, I will strike you down without hesitation.”

“Come on now, dear,” Onirioago said, her voice gentle, as if she was addressing a child. “What have I told you about making promises you can’t keep?”

“I can do it now, if that will put your mind at ease,” Gavinkim said, his arm reaching for his inventory to draw his weapon.

“Stand down,” Garyung barked, gesturing angrily. “That’s an order.”

Gavinkim’s instincts made him pause, but only for a second. He still finished reaching, and produced his greatsword from his inventory.

“Don’t worry,” Kaldalis said, holding out a hand to stop him from menacing her with his weapon. “I’m at the top of her revenge list. If she even tries to escape, I’ll take care of her out of self-preservation.” He stepped in closer to her, drawing her eyes to his. “I will kill you if I must. Now look me in the eyes and tell him I’m lying. I dare you.”

Onirioago’s eyes danced at the closeness. From the confidence in her eyes, it didn’t calm him when she looked away first, leaning back from him as if flinching.

Her smirk faltered, but the victory in her eyes didn’t.

It was an act, intended to give Gavinkim the false impression that Kaldalis could cow her. He had tried to show her that he wasn’t a toy to be played with, and she had responded by playing with him anyway.

Despite his anger - and very clear hesitance - Gavinkim patted Kaldalis on the back and turned away.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Onirioago said, putting a false pout into her voice, still selling the idea that Kaldalis had the upper hand. “If you want what I’m selling, you have to pay my price.”

“Whatever the price,” Garyung said as he led Gavinkim to the door, “I’ll be the one paying it, not Kaldalis. Keep that in mind, because his words don’t bind me to pay if you make him agree to something stupid.”

Her smirk returned in truth then, but she didn’t call out the lie in Garyung’s words. She held her tongue until the door closed behind the pair of Bhogads.

“Alone at last,” Kaldalis said, spitting the words as he stepped back from the bars of her cell. “I hope this is the only victory you were hoping to achieve.”

“Are you kidding?” she asked with a laugh. Her chuckle was beautifully musical, at odds with the ugliness of her intent. “This is the first time in days I’ve had a moment’s privacy from that murderous brute’s gaze. I’ve been looking forward to this ever since I first heard of the attacks.”

“You aren’t behind these attacks,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

“No questions yet, Kaldalis,” she said, waving him off. “As I said, this is my first moment of privacy. I hope you don’t mind if I enjoy it for a moment.”

She peeled out of her armor top without warning. Despite the armor representing combat readiness, what she wore underneath was thin and decorated with lace, clearly meant for display rather than function.

Kaldalis realized that the last time she’d changed her clothes was when he was in her tent with her.

What she wore had been intended for his eyes that night, and nothing he’d done had allowed him to escape it.

He instinctively looked away, embarrassed.

Kaldalis hesitated when he heard the sound of skin on the metal bars of her cell. He couldn’t look away, could he? If he did, she might attempt to escape. He looked and saw her forearms resting against the bars, her bent over towards him again, her undergarment making her breasts all the more of a spectacle without her armor.

Her smirk was more impressive than her chest. This was all part of her game with him. She knew he didn’t want to look, but she knew he couldn’t risk leaving her to her own devices unobserved.

Kaldalis focused entirely on maintaining eye contact, but his peripheral vision was too sharp. He could still see the rest of her. A little shimmy of her shoulders made his face heat up.

Onirioago basked in her victory over him for only a moment. She straightened up and slowly slid out of her leather pants as well, putting her body on full display. Despite his personal dislike of her, and her abhorrent behavior, she had considerable assets, and knew how to present them.

He maintained eye contact, though, intent on denying her as much satisfaction as possible. She had to know that there were limits to what she was going to get out of this, and if she burned all his patience now, he would end the game before she’d won any other prizes.

With a wink she turned away from him and sashayed across the cell to her bed, every roll of her hips and shake of her hair carefully calculated to draw the eye.

“I’ve been meaning to change into these since I got here,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t just stripped for him in the most desperately obvious manner possible. “I just couldn’t bear to do it in front of Gavinkim.” She picked up the black striped prison garb and slipped into it as he watched. Every movement was with intent, wiggling her hips as she pulled up the pants, and flexing the muscles of her back as she lifted the shirt over her head.

Kaldalis sighed with a grimace. “Are we getting to the point tonight, or are you committed to wasting my time?”

“That’s up to you,” Onirioago said, sitting on the prison cot. She patted the bed next to her, and beckoned to him. “I can waste as much of your time as you’re willing to spend.” The prison garb was baggy and unflattering, but the confidence in every line of her posture made it very clear that in her mind she was still dressed in only the silk and lace she wore beneath.

“People are dying,” Kaldalis said flatly. “You’ve had much more than thirty seconds to present your case.”

“Come now, Kaldalis,” she purred. “More than a little of that time was for you, not for me.”

“I’m leaving,” Kaldalis said. He wanted to add something snarky about Anthony Hopkins and improvised slurping sounds, but the absolute last thing he wanted was for her to think he had enjoyed this.

In lieu of snark, he just turned and stomped towards the door.

“They’re called Jormongumo,” Onirioago snapped, clearly agitated that he had decided to force the issue without giving her more time to play with him. “Their ancestors were contemporaries of the Lataxinans, before their great calamity. And if you want to stop them, you will come back here.”