Tirmanak hadn’t just brought a flyer. He’d brought an enclosed flyer that hid its occupants. It also had the capacity to fly quite a bit higher than most flyers, as Tirmanak had demonstrated almost immediately.

Tirmanak didn’t explain why he had the far more expensive item, but Serenity was confident it was for occasions like this and anything else that it might be useful for. It had probably seen quite a bit of use, especially since Tirmanak’s first question was if Serenity could disguise himself.

Actually, that brought up a question. Serenity turned towards Tirmanak, who was busy flying. “Do all Hands use a lot of deception?”

Tirmanak shook his head without taking his eyes off their surroundings; instead of following the roads, they were zipping towards the outskirts of the city well above the buildings. “No, most are sadly straightforward. A few at least follow the social Paths, but most are more traditional. I took you for one of the traditional kind originally; I didn’t expect you to have such an incredible Skill. Are you any good with personas?”

“Personas?” Serenity wasn’t sure what the Guildmaster meant.

“You know, putting on a mask and getting your target to do what you want them to do. Or simply pretending to be someone you aren’t; sometimes that’s even better.” Tirmanak glanced over at Serenity before turning his attention back to where he was going. “From your expression, I’m guessing you aren’t. You’ll need better control than that.”

Serenity shook his head. “I’m terrible at it. I’m me, and that always shines through. I’m not sure I want to be better, either; that would require dealing with people.”

Tirmanak brought the flyer down until they were only a few feet above the ground, well within a flyer’s normal range, and turned them back towards the city. They’d left well away from any of the normal gates, but they’d enter through the one closest to the district they wanted to visit. It was very close; Serenity had the feeling that the district was where it was because the gate was there, rather than the other way around.

“You’re going to have to get better at it. Hands don’t succeed without allies, and often there are no allies unless you bring them yourself. You were lucky to find Duke Lowpeak; what would you have done if he hadn’t been there?” Tirmanak sounded interested.

Serenity could believe it; any good Guildmaster was interested in improving his Guild members. “Djen was inclined to let me go because of my Mercenary Guild membership; he didn’t believe that I was one of the students. I think he simply didn’t want the trouble of dealing with me. Which was wise of him; he’s only Tier Three, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t practice his combat skills all that heavily.”

Tirmanak nodded and gestured for Serenity to continue, so he did. “I’d have settled into an inn, then started wandering the area. I doubt I’d have been in new clothes, but I expect I’d have found a way to get kopeks and buy slaves; it doesn’t seem that hard. I’d have had to send all of the Earthlings back to Earth, but that’s doable. I doubt I’d have been in different clothes or shielded by Andarit, but I don’t think it would have changed that much. The real difference is that you wouldn’t be here; I’d be stuck waiting a week or maybe two for my allies to arrive.”

“You have allies on the way? That’s better than most new hands, but your coordination is exceptionally poor. They should already be here.” Tirmanak seemed to deliberately frown as he looked over at Serenity.

Serenity just shrugged. “It was unavoidable. The only way we could have gotten here at the same time would be for me to head home and travel here with them. I had to get here first to find the place.”

“I’d love to ask you what you mean,” Tirmanak started, “But I think we’re here. This is the correct location, isn’t it?”

Serenity glanced at the building they were about to arrive at, then stared. They were at Djen’s Hiring Hall; Serenity could even see the sign. Unfortunately, there was a plume of smoke rising from the back of the building. He couldn’t remember if there had been one there before, but it definitely wasn’t that obvious. “Yes, but that’s too much smoke.”

He hoped it wasn’t the records.

Tirmanak pulled up directly in front of the building, then dropped the enchantment that created the concealing screen. Both of them jumped out of the flyer before it shrank and found its own way into Tirmanak’s pocket.

Serenity noticed the movement and realized the flyer was even more expensive than he’d thought originally.

As they hurried into the building, Serenity could see blood drops in several lines through the entrance. It looked like injured people had gone either in or out. Probably fairly badly injured if they hadn’t taken the time to fix the dripping before moving, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to indicate a life-threatening wound, at least not from blood loss.

They followed the bloody trails back into the depth of the building. It led them down the stairs past the cages where Serenity was originally held. Serenity stopped at the doorway, suddenly reminded of the runes that decorated the room. “If we have time, I want to check out this room on the way out,” he told Tirmanak.

Tirmanak nodded before they continued downward. Neither seemed to feel the need to speak.

The blood trail stayed on the stairs to the lowest level. It made Serenity doubtful, since the smoke had to be coming from somewhere higher up, but it was still worth checking out.

Tirmanak opened the door, smearing the blood under it more than it was already smeared and also releasing a terrible stench. It was the smell of livestock, kept too close and not routinely cleaned or mucked out, then slaughtered.

It was also the smell of a poorly-maintained slave pen turned into a place of death, which is what Serenity and Tirmanak saw on the other side of the door. There was blood splashed liberally throughout the room and a number of dead, mangled bodies. Groans and whimpers said that a few still lived, but Serenity was no healer. He couldn’t do anything for a slave whose intestines were outside his body or one with blood bubbling from what had to be a lung injury other than put them out of their pain.

So Serenity took the time for that. He left any who might live with even minor help alone, as well as the unconscious, but he asked the ones who were conscious and clearly dying if they wanted the release of death. More than half accepted; Serenity left the remainder as they were. He didn’t really have the time, but it felt like it was the least he could do.

Tirmanak simply watched, but Serenity didn’t hold it against him. Different cultures had different reactions, and Serenity could remember more than one time where he’d simply stood back and watched another give mercy as well. Serenity hoped that Tirmanak simply came from a culture that believed in letting people struggle as long as they could; the alternative was apathy, and Serenity knew what that was like.

Serenity’s actions were rewarded when he came to a new body and found that he’d located Djen; he was alive, but badly injured. The injuries weren’t bad enough for Serenity to have offered him mercy; if he had his broken leg splinted or healed in time, he’d likely even walk again. His arms were worse; with two broken shoulders and two broken elbows, Serenity wasn’t confident how much use of his arms Djen would regain. It depended on how good his Healer was; with good enough healing, almost anything could be fixed.

Serenity waved towards Tirmanak, gesturing for him to come to Serenity. Once Tirmanak was close enough, Serenity turned to Djen. “Hello, Djen. That is your name, isn’t it? My friend and I would like to talk to you.”

Tirmanak’s hand descended on Serenity’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. Serenity took it as a sign to let the other man talk.

“What happened here?” Tirmanak’s question was simple and was probably the first thing Serenity would have asked, once he got to asking questions. “Tell me true, tell me all, and aid will come to you; tell me lies or misguide and it shall be your demise.”

Serenity felt magic swirl around Tirmanak. It was a spell, but clearly one carried by a Skill; if he had to guess, it was something related to Tirmanak’s family Name, Oathbinder. Serenity wasn’t certain he’d have been able to tell that based solely on the magic, but the words made it fairly clear. Tirmanak didn’t have a truth-telling Skill; he had a truth-binding Skill.

Serenity wasn’t particularly a fan of Mind-based magic, but in this case it seemed worth using. One way or another, they were going to get information from Djen, and offering him “aid” in return for true information seemed reasonable. The other option left Djen significantly more damaged; more importantly, they wouldn’t know if what he said was true or not.

“What happened?” Djen started laughing hysterically, but his laughter turned into coughing. Tirmanak propped him up using the only thing that was convenient, a dead body. Serenity doubted it was comfortable, but he also doubted Tirmanak really cared.

Since it was the body of a slave, Serenity hoped it was extremely uncomfortable.

Serenity moved forward and knelt next to Djen, on the other side from Tirmanak. He didn’t need Tirmanak’s gesture to stay silent and let Tirmanak get the information, but he did want to hear it.

Once Djen stopped coughing, Tirmanak repeated the question. “What happened here?”

“Who are you?” Djen tried to dodge the question.

“The person who found you,” Tirmanak replied unhelpfully. “Now tell me what happened here. Who did this? Why?”

Djen laughed bitterly. “They’ve destroyed me, why should I protect them? Church warriors, champions, I don’t know. The one who led them is a slavemaster like me, but I wasn’t expecting this and he was.” He laughed again, but the laugh choked off in something that was closer to a sob. “They left me like this deliberately, you know? Alive, crippled, useless, destroyed. Nothing. That’s what they want me to be. Nothing, as a warning to others against cheating them. I didn’t cheat them!” Djen was shouting by the end.

“Hundreds of slaves I sent them, all we’d agreed and more! I could show them, I did show them, they saw my records, my sales, my profits. All of them! I showed them the real books and they beat me for lying.” Djen coughed again, his volume lowering but clearly still angry.

“For lying. Their own people said I wasn’t lying, but Artraeon knew better. He always knew better. And now I pay for his mistakes. I’d have given him more slaves, but there were none he wanted! Only the ones who came from nowhere would do, and he would not believe me that none came. That none would come! Tutorials end, they don’t continue forever; no slaves for a week means it is over!” Djen dissolved into a coughing fit. Serenity was beginning to believe that he’d been off in his assessment; there was something more wrong with Djen than the obvious.

Not that it mattered. Serenity knew exactly why there had been “no slaves for a week”. The Voice had prevented them from being sent out of the Tutorial. This slave-owning Church apparently knew the Tutorial wasn’t over, but didn’t know why they weren’t getting slaves, and blamed Djen.

Serenity didn’t feel sorry for Djen. Whatever he was doing otherwise, he knew he was enslaving people kidnapped from a Tutorial. There was no excuse for that, and Serenity had the feeling he’d done it more than once.