60. Hull - What Is Deserved (Patreon)

Chapter 60

What Is Deserved

My back itched with the Assassin walking behind me, but every time I glanced back he just pointed me forward. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell the bastard was enjoying this. When I’d faced him in Basil’s room he’d waited until I had cards in hand and was ready to summon before saying, “You hit me yourself and my poison will do for you; you realize that? No Dueling Dome here. I’ll have no choice in the matter.” His voice was gravelly but amused. “I may not understand everything my Summoner does, but I don’t think that’s what he had in mind.” A knife had appeared in his hand from nowhere. “Not that it has to go the way he wants. I’m always ready to dance.”

I hadn’t attacked, of course. I wracked my brains for what Basil had meant, sending that particular Soul after me instead of maybe one that wasn’t designed specifically for murder – or coming to the room himself, as he’d said he would – and all I could think was that he meant to intimidate me. Given the choice between a little intimidation and a Fated poison dagger to the gut, I was happy to choose the former, but it rankled that I’d sat there like a good little dog waiting for Basil’s judgment and then he didn’t even bother to come to me himself. I had a dozen cutting things I planned to say when we came face to face, each worse than the last, but in reality my stomach was churning and my heart was beating hard, and it wasn’t because of the Assassin at my back. I’d put my life and freedom in this noble boy’s hands; I owed it to him after what I’d done. Just because I knew it was right didn’t make me any less nervous about it.

The Assassin walked me out to the arena floor and we threaded our way through the milling crowds. There were servants, functionaries, older noble folk, and even some of the richer merchant class that had bought their way down onto the floor to mingle now that everything was done. I’d missed the final rounds, by the looks of things. I minded less than I’d thought I would – after all, Prince Gerad had likely won the top spot, and watching him gloat and mug for his adoring subjects was just about the last thing I wanted to see.

I spotted Basil arm in arm with Esmi up ahead, both of them smiling and surrounded by important folk wearing important clothes. My guts cramped and I held back, willing to wait for a better moment. My doubts piled up in my mind. If he’d wanted to give me a stern talking-to and let me slip away, he’d have come to the room, wouldn’t he? Here amid all the Coliseum guards and palace bigwigs felt more like the right setting for a public accusation. I should have left while I had the chance. No, wait, you decided this was the right thing. Don’t be a coward just because it’s not what you hoped.

Basil caught sight of me and his smile faltered. He made his excuses to whoever it was he was talking to, disentangled himself from Esmi with an apology in her ear, and worked his way toward me. He steeled himself visibly, and I did the same. My hands were shaking, so I stuffed them into my pockets, clutching the stacks of cards there as if they could save me. My mind might have said that this was right, but the rest of me was not at all sure. 

He stepped close, his eyes darting all around, never settling on me. “I didn’t think my Assassin Soul was going to frog-march you through the crowd. I should have told him to wait with you in a quieter spot.”

I cleared my throat and tried to sound calm. “The room was plenty quiet.”

His face darkened. “I was not ready to return there.”

My tension ratcheted a little tighter. I was making him think of what had happened in the room, of the fight, of me siding with Ticosi against him. Of course he didn’t want to go back there. “I thought you sent him to kill me at first.”

He blinked and then blanched. “Twins take me, I hadn’t really thought of that.” then his face firmed and he looked me in the eye for the first time. “Though I’m not sure I mind having caused you distress.”

I took a deep breath. “Basil, listen –”

“No, you listen,” he broke in.

Then a familiar humming started in the air, and all the light broke into harmonics with a rising pitch. Looking up, I saw a figure descending from the clear blue sky. “Plug your ears,” I shouted, doing the same myself. Those nearby quickly copied me, and a wave of people falling to their knees rippled outward as King Hestorus arrived.

He cut off his soul ability before it reached the painful, damaging peaks I’d heard it reach that night at the Soiree, leaving the massive crowd of cardless commoners in the stands awed and shouting praises instead of weeping and clutching bloody ears. With a grudging sigh I bent the knee like everyone else, not wanting to get carted off by the guards as the one idiot that refused to acknowledge that piece of shit His Majesty. Inwardly I had to admit that Hestorus was a canny one – he did such a good job of pretending to be a brainless, self-absorbed twit, but while he was happy to lash out at a room full of nobles and hangers-on, he wasn’t going to hurt a stadium full of common folk in the same way. Sure, he’d done some collateral damage to the servants at the party, and I doubted he cared very much, but he had to know that badly hurting thousands of his subjects at a go – possibly killing a decent number of babes in arms and ailing grandmas in the process – was a short road to riots in the streets.

An announcer turned on their loud-speaker magic for the whole Coliseum. “People of Treledyne, your King!” The entire stadium erupted in cheers and shouting. It went on and on, gradually morphing from incoherent noise into repeated chants of HAIL! HAIL! He raised his arms to the crowd as he floated ten feet in the air, throwing back his glittering gold cape, and the sound redoubled. These people didn’t care that he was a bad king. Twins, they probably didn’t know he was a bad king. He was beautiful, he could fly, and he made pretty light shows every morning even on the rainiest of days. There was food for the buying and money to be made, unless you had the bad luck to live in the Lows. For anyone who had two clips to rub together and could purchase entrance into the Tournament, this man was better than the Twins themselves. He might as well have been a god. Looking up at him, I had to admit he looked the part.

He touched down on the one remaining fighting platform where the finals match had been played, gesturing to someone nearby. A Coliseum functionary ran up and handed him some bit of metal that flashed in the sun, bowing low and then immediately retreating. Hestorus clenched the thing in his fist and began to speak.

“My beloved people, I have watched from on high and am greatly pleased by these duels and your being here to watch them. Our great city thrives!”

The people cheered even more. SUN KING! SUN KING! they screamed. His voice had echoed just as loudly as any announcer’s had, and I realized that whatever the functionary had handed him must have been an Artifact enchanted with some kind of magnification magic. It was almost certainly the same thing the commentators used, and I imagined they guarded those Artifacts closely – if some drunken grunter got their hands on one during a match, it’d be embarrassing at best. When the King shows up and crooks a finger, though, what could they do but hand it over?

“The competitors here are the best and the brightest of you,” he continued, speaking gravely, almost reverently. “In our great city of Order, even the lowest of us can rise to great heights through courage, skill, and luck. Remember these days of festival and fighting, my people, and let them inspire you as you work, as you love, and as you strive to better yourself. I will present the top 5 victors to you that you may engrave them in your memory. They will be trained as future leaders of our armies. Pray to the Twins for them, for they will be the ones who keep you safe.”

I saw robed Coliseum workers scurrying about all hunched over, trying not to be too noticeable in the midst of all the kneeling folk. One was headed directly toward Basil and me.

Basil saw the same and sighed. “Inconvenient. We’ll discuss our matters afterward.”

I looked around. More Coliseum people were rushing about in the periphery. “Is this supposed to be the closing ceremonies?”

He shrugged helplessly. “According to the schedule I was shown, they’re not for another hour yet, and there was no mention of royalty in attendance. But when the King speaks…”

“He keeps everyone on their toes,” I muttered.

The scared-looking Coliseum boy reached us. “Masters, I am instructed to ask you to line up with the other victors by the side of the stage at your immediate convenience.”

“A contradiction in terms,” Basil frowned, “but not your fault, lad. Let’s go, Hull.” Bold as brass, he stood up straight and strode toward the stage. Shaking my head, I followed. I saw Esmi doing the same nearby.

“On your feet, all of you!” Hestorus granted the crowd. “Stand for our victors.”

Freed from kneeling, there was a great rush on the arena floor as all the highborn and hangers-on tried to position themselves to their own advantage. Basil and I had to push through a suddenly thick crowd to reach the stage. By the time we got there, Gerad and Lustra were also being chivvied into position at the foot of the stairs, lined up with 5th place at the front and first at the back. I was shocked to see Esmi standing at the rear of the line with Gerad glowering at nothing right in front of her.

“Isn’t that the girl you pushed down the other night?” I asked casually as I passed him to take my place. “Looks like it might have been a bad idea.”

He inspected his own fingernails and pretended not to hear me. I was ushered into line by a dozen eager hands right in front Basil and behind Lustra. She turned and flashed her fanged smile at me.

“I came knocking at your rooms, but no one answered.” She somehow managed to twist seductively even as she stood still. “The king might make a speech first – we could slip under the stage for a moment and be back before we’re missed.”

I was glad I still had the copper charm she’d tossed at me strapped to my wrist. Without that I’d have missed the entire closing ceremony just to gawk at her. “Twins twist my balls,” I grumbled. “Do you try to trip every last person you meet into bed?” 

“Just the powerful ones,” she said, her seductive manner suddenly disappearing as if it had never been. “A girl can never have too many friends.”

I barked a laugh. “Your friends must end up with every itch and drip under the sun.”

She shrugged and spread her hands. “I never hear any complaints.” She pulled a card from behind her ear and slipped it into her pocket.

The motion drew my eye. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever I want,” she said crossly, pulling another and pocketing it. “If you’re not going to give me what I want, then be a good little sack of blood and piss off.” 

Even with the charm on my wrist, she was too pretty to keep staring at without getting stupid ideas, so I did as she asked and left her alone. She kept taking cards out of her Mind Home and tucking them away, keeping her motions small and unobtrusive. A curious thing, but none of my business, as she’d made abundantly clear.

“Men and women of Treledyne, I present to you Lustra, of the Kingdom of the Undead,” Hestorus thundered, holding out his hand to her and beckoning. She stopped pulling her cards and mounted the platform, a slender spike of black next to the King’s radiance. “Our peoples have not always been friendly, but we see this as the dawn of a new era between us; one of cooperation and trust. She carries powerful Souls and is a powerful soul herself. As she proves herself to be a protector of humanity, let us learn to honor and respect her – and through her, the kingdom of those who find life after breath has ceased.”

He gestured to her, and she bowed to the crowd. The cheering was respectful, if not entirely enthusiastic. Even in the Lows I’d heard horror stories of vampires and the hordes of the undead. If their precious King wanted them to clap, the people would do so, but they wouldn’t immediately embrace the girl. Having met her up close, I thought the crowd’s reticence wise.

Hestorus pointed to the rear corner of the stage behind himself, and Lustra retreated to that position. Then his eyes fell on me, and with a seemingly genuine smile, he motioned me up the stairs. 

“The young man Hull, of our very own city,” he said to the crowd, sounding immensely proud. “Certainly you have heard the rumors as you’ve placed your bets and watched your matches, but hear the truth directly from your King: this boy hails from the very poorest part of our beloved Treledyne, and from literally nothing he has risen to the very heights of our dueling youth. Cheer for him, my people, for he is one of you.”

The screams and cries from the stands rose to the sky, nearly as full-throated as they had been for the King himself. Suddenly choked with emotion, I looked out at the throng, my heart full. I didn’t know if Basil would have me locked in a cell by the end of the day, whether I’d have my deck stripped from me and find myself facing an executioner, but when I thought back to just days before when I had ducked into the back gates of the Coliseum to dodge Ticosi’s goons, I regretted nothing. I had lived more in the last three days – come to know and understand myself better – than I ever had before. Fate had put me here, and I thanked her from the bottom of my heart.

Then Hestorus’s hand fell to my shoulder, and the good feelings crumbled and fell away. He was looking at me like he owned me, like I was his son, and all the hate I had stored up for him welled back up in an instant. I’d been willing to betray the only friend I’d ever made just to have a chance to kill him; I’d ruined everything that might have been good in my life, and here he was hale as ever, the most powerful man in the world, and I knew I couldn’t so much as chip his fingernail. The thoughts I’d had at first of getting close and rushing him with a knife had been laughable. Ticosi had nearly killed me, and he’d only been an Epic. What would a Legendary do if I attacked?

Hestorus tucked the bit of brass that magnified his voice into his waistband for a moment. “Keep that hate, boy. You’ll need it.” He gestured to the spot next to Lustra, and all I could do was trot along like a proper King’s subject to my place. He was right there in front of me, but Hestorus was as untouchable as the sun. Power. I need more power. I will put an end to him; it’s just going to take longer than I wished. Ticosi had been my best hope, and I’d killed him. I’d have to find another way.

Lustra kept surreptitiously pulling more cards from her Mind Home as she stood next to me, looking at no one and everyone. Basil was now mounting the steps, coming to stand before the King to be presented to the crowd.

“I had not imagined to find Basil of House Hintal among our best and brightest, but he has surpassed all expectation and shown himself to be resourceful, clever, and strong. This is the face of the nobility that guides you, Treledyne, and I do not doubt that many great deeds lie in this young man’s future. Cheer him, my people!”

They did, every bit as loudly as they had for me, and even in my fear and anger I was glad to hear it. Basil deserved every good thing that came to him, and he waved to the crowd with that damned enthusiasm of his that could never stay hidden for long. He beamed at me as he came to stand beside me, and it was as if every bad thing had melted away between us. I grinned back without thinking about it. His good cheer flickered as he realized who he was looking at, and all the fear and uncertainty came back to me. He looked away.

“And now, my own son and heir, your Crown Prince!” the King said to massive cheers. “I had thought he’d be in first place –”

At my side, Lustra suddenly tensed, holding a single card in hand. “Now!” she screamed as loudly as she could.

Gerad’s head snapped to her, and with a look of intense adoration, he started pulling cards. An Order source flew up over his head.

“Gerad, what’s this?” the King said, sounding bemused.

An arrow shattered against the King’s cloak, and the shreds of a single card floated down from him. Screams sounded all around, and pandemonium broke out around the platform. Looking down, I saw Losum, looking blank-faced and throwing more Order source over his own head, and the Prince’s other toady Reginald right next to him with two summoned Guardsmen pushing forward with swords drawn. Instinctively I crouched down, making myself less of a target, and I pulled Basil down with me. He looked confused

“My liege, get down!” a man’s voice rang out. Grown men – high nobility, by the looks of them, were summoning source and Souls of their own, and the crowd was a scrambling mess of fleeing bystanders and mustering defenders. Haze leapt out of the crowd, his body sheathing itself in stone as he landed in front of Hestorus. His face had that same blankness I saw in the others, and he spared a glance for Lustra before his head was covered and he barreled toward the King.

Hestorus swatted his son out of the way and let him come. The bruiser reared back with both hands clenched together overhead and thundered them down on the King’s chest. Hestorus let it happen, looking at the boy quizzically, as if unable to comprehend what was happening. Card shreds puffed away from him, but less than I would have expected. I’d taken that hit before, it should have done more damage. I could only assume the King had some level of Armor as one of his personal soul abilities.

Looking to Lustra, I saw that she held a single card in hand and four Death source overhead. I didn’t know how she’d gotten that many so quickly, but it was obvious she was making her play, whatever it was. She was focused on the King like a hawk, and for a moment I was tempted to let her do whatever she had planned. Hadn’t I just been mulling over how he needed to die?

But I was standing not five feet from him, and so was Basil, not to mention Esmi, still down at the foot of the stairs. At one point I might have considered it a good trade to die if I could take Hestorus with me, but now I’d tasted how good life could be. I wasn’t ready to give it up yet, not for him. I rushed at Lustra, trying to tackle her.

She caught me with her free hand. She was far stronger than I expected for a girl of her size. “Told you to stay out of the way,” she hissed.

Then Basil was there too, grappling with her. “Let go!” he howled, beating at her with his fists. “Stop this madness!”

With a growl, she pushed me into Basil’s chest, sweeping us both off the stage. We tumbled into a painful heap on the cobbles a few feet away. I’d bitten my lip, and it hurt like blazes. Basil had a dribble of blood smearing one nostril.

More people were rushing forward, and I recognized some of them. Lily, the girl I’d fought on day one, had a small horde of Troglodytes at her heels, and she had that same blank look as the rest. More and more Guard Souls were appearing, and some of them were clashing with the others as those defending the King tried to get in the way of those attacking. I saw the Legendary Soul Kitsanya mist into being beside Gerad, and I wondered if I was going to watch Hestorus die today regardless. It was not a displeasing thought.

In the midst of it all was Lustra, who had devoted all 4 of her Death source. A gale of summoned wind whipped around her. “Look at me, Hestorus!” she screamed.

The King arched an eyebrow and turned to her even as Haze landed another blow on him, shredding more cards. He appeared entirely unconcerned with the chaos all around or the mystical wind whipping at his golden robes. “Making your move, Lustra?”

“Do you know the war cry of the Undead? Let it be the last thing you hear! Death prevails!” The card in her hand glittered and disappeared as she summoned it.

A cloud of flies, insects, disease, and darkness deeper than midnight rocketed out from her and surrounded Hestorus, obscuring him completely. Panic and screams redoubled all around. People in the stands were stampeding. I’d never heard so much noise in all my life. Under, around, and through it all was the clacking whisper of beetles and the buzz of flies’ wings as they devoured the Sun King.

Except then he stepped out of the cloud, totally unharmed. “Here’s the thing about final words, little vampire: you’d best make damned sure you’ve got the other man dead to rights, because otherwise you end up sounding more than a little stupid.” He flicked his fingers at her, and the cloud of death swarmed over her instead. Somehow its darkness was less this time, and I could see Lustra inside flailing at the biting, devouring things as they went to work on her. She screamed in fury and pain, and I saw the flesh peel away from her hands, her cheekbones, and her lips as her own Spell ate her a piece at a time. 

It lasted more than a minute, and she screamed the whole time. It was a gruesome thing to watch, but I couldn’t look away. When the cloud dispersed, her bones clattered into a gleaming heap inside her clothing, scoured clean.

Gerad was looking around in confusion as if he’d just woken up, seeming totally baffled at the source circling his own head and even more so at the presence of Kitsanya by his side. Haze’s Pyroclast Spell had expired,  and he too was looking dumbstruck. He was surrounded by Guardsman Souls.

Hestorus took up his loud-speaking charm again. “Good people, be calm! The danger has passed. It takes far more than a stripling vampire to get the best of your King, no matter what devilish Spell she has hidden up her sleeve. Any of you that have Healing cards, please put them to use for those around you.” He tucked the bit of brass away and addressed those nearby. “Victors, my apologies for cutting the ceremony short, but this action cannot go unanswered, and I have much to do. I will see you all in a month’s time at the commencement of our War Camp. It shall be more vital than ever this year. Gerad, has your head cleared? Good. Perhaps this will teach you to think twice before tumbling a vampire, eh? Oh, and you can all ignore what I said about the Undead. They’re a conniving lot of maggots, and I’m going to wipe them from the face of the earth.” He took up his loud-speaker one last time and gave a brilliant smile to the crowd. “Did I not say this would be a day you would tell your children about?”

With that, he took to the air and zoomed away, leaving ruin and confusion in his wake.

Esmi was crouching at Basil’s side, tending to his bleeding nose. Basil, for his part, seemed more concerned with checking her over to ensure she was unhurt. I left them be. They didn’t want to hear from me. Walking over to the platform, I gingerly reached into the mouth of Lustra’s skull, carefully avoiding pricking myself on the razored eyeteeth, and pulled out her soul card.

This was twice in a single day I’d held the card of an Epic soul that I’d faced in a duel. Reading it helped me make sense of what had happened. She’d rutted her way through as many of the duelists as she could get her hands on, Entrancing them and forcing them to do her bidding. She’d had the Crown Prince under her control, and no one had known. “What a mess,” I whispered. I thanked Fate that I hadn’t given in to her suggestions. No wonder she’d been pushing herself on me so hard.

A single card clattered around inside the skull as I shifted it, and I reached through the ear hole, pulling forth the Spell she had cast.

That was why she’d been pulling her other cards. It only worked when the Mind Home was empty. Looking at it, I wondered how the King had survived. Legendary or no, this thing should have ended him. He must have some soul ability that lets him reflect fatal damage, I mused. How the hell am I ever going to kill that man?

“I’ll take those,” someone at my elbow snapped, holding out their hand. The speaker was a solidly-built man with steel gray hair and a nose like a hawk. His belly was stout, but he looked like he knew how to handle himself, a shortened lance of all things dangling at his side.

“Who are you?” I asked, keeping the cards.

He loomed over me, and it was only then I noticed the red flecks around his pupils. “I’m the Grand Marshal of the King’s army,” he growled, “and the one who’ll be running War Camp, you stinking pup. Now give me those cards. They belong to the King.”

He might be Epic and have a fancy title, but I didn’t budge when I slapped the cards down into his hand. “I wasn’t trying to take them.”

A flick of the Grand Marshal’s eyes over me told me how unconvinced he was. I knew his type: the rich man who thought that every poor man was secretly scheming to slit his purse and piss in his wine cup. Not that he was wrong, exactly, but I disliked him immediately. 

“Were you under the vampire’s control, boy?”

No,” I said shortly. “Unlike most of the noblemen around here, I know how to keep my dick in my pants.”

“Watch your words and how you say them,” he warned, his own tone sharp and dangerous. “Getting into War Camp doesn’t give you leave to slander your betters.”

When I find them, I won’t was right on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in. No point in baiting the man. He was obviously powerful, and he seemed the kind that might clap me in irons just on the general principle of the thing. If I did end up getting to War Camp, I’d have to watch out for him. Seething inside, I bowed my head as respectfully as I knew how. He watched me for a tense moment and then turned away to collect the rest of Lustra’s cards.

Some time later I found myself sitting on the steps of the dueling platform. In my mind’s eye I kept seeing Lustra getting eaten by her own Spell, skin peeling back to expose flesh, flesh nibbled away to show bone. The King had shrugged off every attack that came at him. He hadn’t even been worried. It would be a long time before I ever faced him like I wanted to, and I didn’t know what the road from here to there looked like.

Most of the people had drifted off. The crowds were dispersing, seeming far more excited by the turn of the day’s events than was sensible, and life was gradually returning to normal. No one paid any attention to the jumped-up gutter kid sitting on the steps.

Someone sat down next to me. It was Basil.

“Hell of a day,” he said.

I couldn’t help but snort a tired kind of laugh. “Well, sure, but I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say it that way.”

He spread his hands, looking weary. “I am, at times, a touch too formal. I thought I should express the sentiment in a manner you would appreciate.”

“Is Esmi all right?”

“Thank the Twins, yes. Robbed of her due recognition in front of the city, mind you, but she doesn’t care for such things. I’m of a mind to write a stern letter to the Master of Ceremonies and force them to have a parade for her.”

I chuckled. “You would.”

We sat there in silence for a moment. I dug deep in my soul and looked for the right words to say.

“I’m sorry, Basil.”

He frowned down at his hands, lips twisting. It took him a long time to respond. “I asked you to help. How could you choose to side with him? I was your friend.”

His words were like a sword to the chest. “I… he told me he’d help me kill the King.”

He gestured bitterly at the platform behind us. “And you think he could have done such a thing?”

“I’m less sure now,” I admitted, “but even so? Maybe. He was well connected. He said big things were coming.”

“Well, he was right about that.” Basil rubbed his chin thoughtfully, still not looking at me.

“Oh, by the way – here,” I said, pulling the stack of Chaos cards from one pocket.

“Put those away,” he hissed, looking around. “It’s treason to have even a single one.”

I gave him a sour look but did as he asked. “Basil, you had me use demons to dispose of a dead man’s body after we killed him secretly in your rooms. Are we really going to start talking about what’s legal?”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned, scrubbing his hair. “I freely admit that my decision-making today has not been up to snuff. I am unaccustomed to this level of distress.” He waved a hand at me. “Truly, I don’t want those cards. Dispose of them as you see fit. I wouldn’t have the first idea how to do so.”

“There were a few other things,” I said. “An Artifact knife, and also this thing.” I pulled out the bracelet and handed it to him.

His eyes went wide as he turned it over. “This is a fabricator. An open-ended one.”

I blinked at him. “A what now?”

“Fabricators give you access to a source that you haven’t cultivated, like the water one Esmi gave me. They can be bought, but they’re terribly expensive, and they’re always locked down to a single source beforehand by the Artificers who made them. Their make is a closely guarded secret.” He fiddled with the loose clasps at the heart of the bracelet. “This one is unaligned, and unless I miss my guess, it’s made so that you can swap out its core at will to use any source you please.” He sounded breathless.

“What do you put in?” I said, intrigued.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he said, “but it’s a princely item, and the possibilities are endless.”

“Take it,” I said. “You helped me kill him, and you should get something from it.”

He frowned again, thinking hard, and then tucked it away.

“While we’re at it…” I pulled out the card I’d fished out of my Mind Home a bit earlier while thinking things over. “This is yours.”

“Hull…” he sighed, taking the card.

“You won it fair and square,” I said, relishing the pain in my heart. It felt clean, somehow. “If we’re setting our accounts to right, it goes to you.” I stood up. “And if you’re going to turn me over to the City Watch, let’s go ahead and do it. I’m getting bored just sitting here.”

He tugged at my sleeve. “Sit down, will you? I’m tired.”

I sat.

“I don’t wish to square our accounts, Hull,” he said quietly. “That was never what I hoped for. I wanted to trust you.”

I threw up my hands helplessly. “I can’t fix that now. I wish to the Twins that I could. I’m sorry, Basil. I chose wrong. By the time I realized it, it was nearly too late.”

“But you did realize,” he murmured. “And then you fought for me.”

“All the good it did,” I grunted. “If you hadn’t popped back in with that one Spell when he thought you were down and out, we’d have both died.”

“Indeed.” He paused, and the ghost of a smile crossed his face. “So really, I saved you every bit as much as you saved me.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You did. Thanks for that.”

He nodded and then stood briskly. “And thank you for coming to your senses before I died instead of afterward. I might have some tender feelings on the topic, but I certainly prefer the current outcome to the alternative.” He put the Night Terror back in my hand. “Here.”

I held it loosely. “Are you sure?”

He waved the question away. “What am I going to do with a Nether Epic?” He pulled me to my feet, and I let him. “And I meant what I said the other night, Hull: I want no accounting between us. You give, I give… and perhaps I forgive, as well. I didn’t understand what I was asking of you when I expected you to stand with me against that villain; it was more than you had within you to give. I shall have to be more careful about that in the future. Asking a friend to give what they do not have is not kind.”

I looked him in the eye, daring to hope. “Are you sure?” I repeated. “Not just about the card.”

He smiled at me. “Completely. You are the good man I hoped you to be, Hull, but I can hardly blame you if it takes longer than three days for that to sink in for you. You have a remarkably thick skull, after all.”

I felt weak all over, and I was ashamed to feel tears prickling at my eyes. “Basil, I really am sorry.”

He enfolded me in a hug. “I know. I forgive you, and I ask your forgiveness in return. Our bond has been tested, and we will both be the stronger for it.”

Relief coursed through me like I’d never felt before, and I hugged him back. It gave me the chance to wipe my tears away before I had to look my friend in the eye.