Javen’s marketplace was abuzz with activity and the hum of many different tongues. Organized in rings with a massive well at the center, the closer one’s business was to the well, the wealthier you were. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t any goods worth having outside of the Inner Ring. It just meant the higher-quality gear were there.

Wyatt pushed through the crowd, Marek following behind him. It was the weekend, so many were out and about handling their own business. It was hot with the sun beating down on them. Wyatt could only look at the Kulok natives with envy as they walked around with no indication that they were affected by the weather at all.

Two years of living here, and I’m still as much of an outsider as when I first arrived, Wyatt thought. He brushed his hand off the pommel of his sword, running a thumb along it. When he had owned a bar of his own, he hadn’t liked packed crowds, even if meant that business was booming. They were hard to move in and keep track of someone, and there was always at least one who tried to take advantage.

“We should be getting close!” Marek called over the noise. Wyatt gritted his teeth. He had only stuck with Marek at first because he had been a means to an end, a way of putting as much distance between Velaire as possible. He was and remained still young and inexperienced. He was also a recently graduated Mage, something that Wyatt tried not to hold against him, as he seemed nothing like the Mages he had encountered. Still, there was something about him that rubbed Wyatt the wrong way, and he knew that Marek noticed. The dark-haired Mage was many things, but an idiot was not one of them.

“We’re in the Third Ring,” Wyatt called back. There were six Rings, and it had taken nearly twenty minutes to wade through the crowd to make it this far. “We’ll be there within a few minutes.”

Marek didn’t respond, but Wyatt wouldn’t have been surprised if his response had been swallowed up by the crowd. The streets of Javen were wide enough to ride a dozen horsemen through, but it didn’t matter when thousands from all over the desert continually streamed in and out of Javen. It was full and would only grow fuller as the day continued.

Why the Kulok thought that their premiere marketplace would be in Javen and not in Ghada is beyond me.

Still, it was impressive. Vendors hawked their wares up and down the Ring in their appointed spots. They shouted in many different languages, although they predominately spoke Kulok. Anything that Wyatt could have ever wanted was available, ranging from fine weapons to finer clothes. One vendor was selling some fruit called a “melon” that was apparently almost entirely composed of water. It was large and green, with darker green lines running down the massive fruit. The vendor was currently swamped with customers, with a line that was longer than any other in the Third Ring. Wyatt made a mental note to come back later, as the fruit looked delicious.

They finally made it to the Fourth and Fifth Rings, the crowds beginning to thin out as many only had enough money for the lesser Rings. The Sixth Ring was still packed, but now there was some room to move around. Wyatt bumped into someone every two or three steps rather than every inch.

At this point, Marek was walking beside him. Wyatt gave him a look over. For a white man like himself, he was doing a much better job of blending in than he was. He was wearing the same brown robes that he always wore, but the Kulok had always preferred robes, albeit much lighter. He was also wearing sandals, trudging through the dirt like everyone else. His hood was down, and while his dark hair was slicked with sweat, it wasn’t nearly as much as what Wyatt was feeling. He was staring forward, moving toward his destination with a determination that was admirable. Wyatt knew that he was once again completely unprepared and unready for what was going to happen today.

While Marek had negotiated before, Wyatt was certain that he had never negotiated with the likes of Talon. That man looked as though he would rob his dying grandmother if he could.

Marek surged forward as they neared the center of the Ring, where Talon and his stall were located. There were two horses next to the stall and two barrels on each side of the stall’s table, which made Wyatt snort.

Not very subtle, Wyatt thought as he increased his pace to match Marek’s. Marek didn’t notice—he kept going until he was standing right up close to the stall. Talon and his two bodyguards from yesterday were there. The guards were standing on either side of the table while Talon stood behind it, waiting for Marek to make the first move. They were just as armored, wearing leathers, and bore spears. All were well-maintained. Their stances told Wyatt that they knew how to fight.

“Talon,” Marek said, and Wyatt watched as Talon carefully hid a sneer that threatened to break across his face.

“Marek,” Talon replied in his distinctive Kulok accent. To Wyatt, the accent sounded high-pitched, which was something he had always found strange, especially when talking to men with a very heavy Kulok accent like Talon’s.

“You are here to conclude the contract,” Talon said. He gestured to a rolled-up scroll on the table. “It is there for you to… peruse.”

Marek tentatively reached for the scroll, unfurled it, and began to read. As his eyes traveled further down the page, his eyebrows rose higher up his forehead. When he reached the bottom, Marek laughed and passed the scroll to Wyatt.

“Surely you’re joking,” Marek said. “This is not what we agreed to yesterday. This will not do.”

“Oh?” Talon said, and at his words, his bodyguards, who had previously looked relaxed, stiffened. “You do not agree to my terms?”

Wyatt hurried skimmed down the page, noting the finer points of the contract that Talon had outlined. In it, there were stipulations that Talon must pay reduced fees for Marek’s mercenary company’s support, and that Marek would also have to hire more guards than originally planned.

If Marek signs this contract, it will ruin him, Wyatt thought as he looked back up to see Marek laugh again.

“No,” Marek said. “I do not agree to this. This is not what we agreed upon, which was a fair and balanced deal that suited both sides. If you insist on this deal, then I am not going to sign it.”

For the first time, Talon looked flustered. “You do not think that you will get more work?” he asked, pointing to the contract that Wyatt was still holding. “If you leave, it will ruin you.”

Marek said nothing, clearly considering what else to say. With each long moment, Talon looked increasingly smug.

He’s letting this slip away! Wyatt thought angrily. He wouldn’t keep quiet if it meant he would be stuck in Javen for another few months while Marek looked for another job that would take them to Velaire. He wanted his money, and he wanted it now. He was tired of allowing Marek to screw things up. He stepped forward, and everyone’s attention was immediately upon him.

“If my commander does not sign this contract, then I will be taking this contract with me. We will show everyone who will listen how you tried to cheat us,” Wyatt interjected. Marek looked annoyed that Wyatt had spoken, but he eventually nodded along with him, which Wyatt appreciated.

Talon smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “You will not be leaving with that,” he said. “You will not leave this Ring with the contract.”

“Say what you will,” Wyatt said. He rolled up the scroll and jammed it into his belt. “We will be leaving with this if you continue with your course.”

“I—” Talon began but stopped as Marek turned and walked away from Talon’s stall.

“Come,” Marek said imperiously, and Wyatt found himself following Marek. They had taken five steps. Within twenty, they would be swallowed up by the crowd. “If Talon doesn’t want to negotiate, then we’re done here,” Marek spoke loud enough so that other nearby vendors and patrons could hear. Slowly, they noticed the scene that was developing in front of them.

“Wait!” Talon called. For the first time, he didn’t sound smug and in control. “Stop!”

“You had your chance,” Marek said. “Goodbye, Talon.”

They took another three steps, and when they didn’t hear anything else, Wyatt felt increasingly nervous. His hand was on his sword, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. They were a few feet from being swallowed up in the crowd before they heard Talon cry out again.

“Let’s renegotiate!” Talon cried, and to Wyatt’s relief, Marek stopped. His face was expressionless as he turned back around.

“Let’s,” Marek said.

To Wyatt’s amazement, the negotiation went smoothly after that. For all that Marek was being taken advantage of at first, he had managed to pull himself together and negotiate accordingly. The terms were renegotiated, this time in Marek’s favor: Talon would offer up two-thirds of his payment beforehand, and that was just to start. It continued from there, Talon looking nervous and angry the entire time. He seemed powerless as Marek went over the contract with a fine-toothed comb, rewriting it constantly until the contract heavily favored him.

“You negotiate… roughly,” Talon said as the negotiation concluded. His face was pinched and red like he had just swallowed a lemon.

“I negotiated in good faith,” Marek said, rolling up the new contract smoothly once he and Talon had signed it. “You tried to take advantage of me. That won’t happen again.”

“No,” Talon gritted out. “It will not.”

“Good,” Marek said, bowing his head and smiled. “Good day.”

Wyatt kept quiet as they walked away. He looked down at his hand, which was gripping the hilt of his sword so hard that his knuckles were white. He released it, wiping his sweaty hand on his pants.

“That went well,” Marek said, his voice mild as they walked through the entrance of the Sixth Ring and entered the Fifth. “Better than I thought.”

“Yes, it did,” Wyatt said. “Much better.”

Marek hummed and nodded, and for a few minutes, the two walked through the increasingly full crowds. At the edge of the Fifth Ring, a street performer was doing incredible acrobatics. He flipped and tumbled about for the growing crowd. Marek stopped to watch, standing with his arms crossed.

“I didn’t appreciate your interjection,” Marek said finally. “I understand you doubt my capabilities, but next time, I will ask or otherwise signal you for your help. Is that understood?”

“Understood, sir,” Wyatt said, annoyed but not overly so. If he had done that to his Sergeant back when he was a Private, then he would’ve gotten much more than a warning. He would’ve been cleaning out the stables for a week. “It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t,” Marek said, nodding and turning his attention back to the performance.

Wyatt frowned, his attention moving from the performance to Marek, who was still watching the performer jump and do his acrobatics. I don’t understand this man, Wyatt thought. One moment, he was the young and inexperienced man that he looked, and the next he was dressing him down and made him feel like half his age.

Perhaps I misjudged him, Wyatt thought. The performer stopped and bowed, sweating and puffing, to the crowd’s applause. The crowd tossed many coins of bronze, silver, and even gold coins. The performer finished his bow and scrambled to the ground, trying to pick up the coins as quickly as he could.

Marek has never acted like this before. I will have to see if this continues. If it did, Wyatt would be able to relax a bit and allow Marek to lead his company. He would not have to worry if he was going to be swindled or otherwise bamboozled in some form or another. We’ll see. I’ll give the boy a chance, and if it fulfills some of his potential, I’ll apologize.

Wyatt hoped that would come soon. Traveling through the Huzhah was incredibly dangerous. While the Company had skirted it before, they hadn’t even traveled from Javen. Javen was by far the deepest part of the desert that was occupied before the Great Gulf swept right through it. It was a monumental task, and if Marek didn’t shape up, he’d have to take control.

We’ll see, Wyatt thought again. We’ll have to see.