Morale was slipping.

  It wasn’t unusual for the group to be tired, but it was rare for Talos to go against her, or to show anything beyond his reserved loyalty and silent nods.

  Rinerva sighed, leaning back in her chair. The truth was, they had possessed enough gold to afford armor for Agon for some time now. But the logistics were undeniable: Agon was a massive target. Plate mail for a half-giant would be exorbitantly expensive, both to forge and to maintain. The sheer surface area of steel meant that every scratch cost a fortune. Talos, conversely, knit himself back together for the price of a few ingredients.

  Still, once she had the proper capital, she would have the armor forged. Admittedly, watching her oldest friend get torn to pieces and put back together was… grating. Even if it was excellent for the mercenary group’s coffers.

  Rinerva turned her attention back to the table, browsing the job listings idly. She had turned in the dagger herself, claiming the reward and splitting it among the party to save time. Now, though, they needed more work.

  She pushed aside a request for caravan guarding. Too simple. Too cheap. They needed something challenging. Something that would build a reputation, if they ever wanted real power beyond drifting from nation to nation, cleaning up loose ends after the war.

  A war she should have used to claim her house’s title.

  She felt the rimefrost forming on her fingers. Instead of stopping the flow, she moved more mana through her channels. The raw energy flowed into the ice sigil tattooed on her arm, then from there into the sphere sigil, before finally entering the output tattoos on the back of her hand. A small ball of ice formed in her palm. The cold bit into her skin through her glove, grounding her.

  She shifted the listings with her free hand before her eyes landed on one that seemed worthwhile.

  It was a request from a large township where citizens were vanishing during the night. Likely a serial killer or a monster hunt. But the settlement was significant—large enough that an official plea for help under the city’s seal meant the reward would be substantial.

  She let the ice melt against her skin, the sharp cold sharpening her focus as she read the details.

  Nomi was excellent in situations like this. While the Spindlegradian was kept around primarily to ensure Lillik stayed in the company, her stealth was exceptionally helpful for urban environments. Agon, however, would likely be of little help; the giant preferred open terrain and warfare to cramped alley fighting.

  Rinerva finalized the details, taking the contract up to the guild desk to accept it officially before returning to the inn.

  The common room was darker now, the evening crowd settling in. Her eyes flickered through the gloom, landing first on Lillik. The spider-mage appeared to be discussing the similarities between alchemy and brewing with the barkeep, all while her hands worked deftly to grind herbs for more potions.

  Then, her gaze landed on Talos.

  Rinerva felt a bitter pang of irritation seeing Nomi sitting next to him.

  He was never a forgiving person, so she couldn’t understand why he kept the pest around. Nomi couldn’t have been worth more to him than a night of fun, yet here she still was, clinging to his side like a burr.

  The girl had undermined Rinerva’s authority a few times now, openly questioning her tactics. If Nomi actually held sway over Talos, it would be a problem. But seeing the tension in Talos’s shoulders, Rinerva allowed herself a moment of cold satisfaction.

  With Nomi’s clear disapproval of using Talos as their vanguard, she could only be grateful the antimage had ruined their personal relationship so thoroughly.

  A divided house was easier to rule.

  Finally her attention shifted to Agon, who was the only one that seemed to witness her entrance and the way her eyes lingered on Nomi. The old warrior was open with his distrust and, like Nomi, his disapproval. A combination of his insights proving worthwhile and his willingness to follow orders made her more… amenable to the giant.

  Along with the obvious strategic benefits of having a siege breaker on payroll.

  She joined Talos’s table, dropping the parchment onto the wood. “We have a new assignment.” She spoke clearly, uncaring if the other patrons listened. ”A town on the border between Rethnia and Spindlegrad. Something is making citizens vanish in the night.”

  “What town?”

  Nomi leaned against the table in a way calculated to draw Talos’s gaze, preening when his eyes flicked onto her briefly. Rinerva narrowed her eyes. Nomi must have won his attention back for a night; she hadn't been this prideful lately. That was inconvenient.

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  “Zylichor’s plight.”

  Lillik let out a low chittering sound that made Rinerva’s hair stand on end.

  “We should not go there.”

  “Lily is right.” Nomi’s playful demeanor evaporated.

  Rinerva paused, looking between the sisters, waiting for an explanation. After a moment of heavy silence, Nomi clarified.

  “The coven there was wiped out. The experiments... they pushed the mutations to the absolute limit. Beyond even Lily.”

  “...Elaborate.”

  “It’s hard to explain. Mutations manifest differently from person to person.” Lillik’s voice was tight. The cloak around her jolted unevenly, betraying unnatural, jerking movements beneath the fabric. “But in Zylichor... they sought a different outcome than mine.”

  She paused, her human eyes wide with a memory she didn't want to revisit.

  “I altered my form to optimize my craft—to gain the precision required for my alchemy. I sacrificed my body, but I preserved my mind. That is the standard exchange. But the Zylichor witches did the opposite.”

  She tapped her temple with a trembling claw that slipped from her cloak.

  “They prioritized the flesh. They wanted the power of a High Mutant without the deformity. Their mutations are concealable—reversible, even. They look human.” Her voice dropped to a clicking whisper, a rare occurrence that only happened when Lillik was truly bothered. “But the cost was total psychosis. They kept their beautiful faces and lost their souls. Not including their experiments in overmutation.”

  “When are we leaving?” Talos asked, rubbing his eyes. They had taken on more dangerous jobs for less when it was just the two of them.

  “In three days. I've already arranged transport and supplies.”

  “Rinerva, I would ask you let me discuss the details more in depth before we commit to this job.” Lillik’s voice was full of clicking now, the sound unsettling even Nomi.

  “Of course, Zeil. But you know as well as I do that the town is doomed without outside intervention. There are few mercenary groups in Spindlegrad, and fewer still that aren’t native. If the two of you aren’t willing to go, which of your kin will be?”

  Rinerva knew Lillik was aware of her stance on morality—or rather, her lack thereof. But she also knew Lillik was far too noble.

  How unfitting of a spider, she thought.

  Lillik stared at her, the clicking slowly subsiding as the logic took hold.

  “...Regardless. A strategy session, then.”

  “Oi, old blood. How’s the pay?”

  Rinerva didn’t look up from the contract. “The town’s seal is on this request. Five gold. But the reputation we’ll get if we succeed is likely worth even more than that.”

  “Aye. I’ll settle for the gold.”

  Agon rose, the wood of the floorboards groaning under the shift in weight. He signaled for Talos to follow.

  “Come on, lad. Let’s get you some steel.” He paused, looking down at the antimage. “Fox, you should come along too. Advise us on what works best against your kin, eh?”

  Nomi paused, her eyes shifting from Rinerva to Agon. Then, she rose with that trademark grin.

  “Calling monsters my kin, Giant? I think you share more blood with monsters than I do.”

  Rinerva felt her blood boil as she watched Nomi brush past the table and lean into Talos, the little whore leeching his warmth like a parasite. She only hoped Talos wouldn’t forget where his loyalties lay.

  She forced her gaze away, turning back to Lillik with a sharp nod.

  “Tell me everything. We’ll make sure we all survive.” Rinerva’s gaze shifted to the spider-mage, focused and logical. “You mentioned once that covens usually choose an animal aspect to specialize their mutations. Was Zylichor one such place?”

  “Yes. They specialized in the Bat.” Lillik’s hands didn't stop grinding herbs, the pestle moving in a rhythmic scrape. “Though their alchemy was far different from most covens. By the time the other Circles arrived to purge them, the matriarch had vanished. They left the town... subjugated. In a deep trance.”

  “...So the town wasn’t properly purged?”

  “No. We removed as many of the afflicted as we could, but even through the hunts, I suspect many survived. Most covens simply cut their losses when their sisters start to overmutate. They burn the hive to save the forest. Zylichor... was left to rot.”

  “Are you at risk of that?” Rinerva’s voice was sharp.

  “The Coven of the Spider is one of the few with the alchemical nuance required to brew stabilizers and suppressants. We prioritize control.” Lillik poured a thick, green liquid into a vial, corking it with a clawed thumb. “I am not at risk.”

  She paused, the arachnid eyes on her forehead twitching toward the door where the others had exited.

  “Neither is Nomi.”

  Rinerva hadn’t asked. The fact that Lillik offered the assurance unprompted was a subtle baring of fangs. Do not treat her as a liability.

  “Excellent,” Rinerva replied, smoothing her expression. “She’ll likely be very helpful in a setting like this.”

  “Indeed. She was among the retinue her Coven sent initially to contain the outbreak. Though she was just an acolyte back then—she survived largely because she had no mutations for the Zylichor witches to destabilize.”

  Rinerva paused, the dates aligning in her head.

  “...Wouldn’t she have been a child?”

  Lillik didn't turn her attention from her vials.

  “antimages are not easy to train, Rethnian. Especially one as skilled as Nomi.” The spider held one of the vials up to the candlelight, examining the suspension with her human eyes before tucking it into her cloak. “You cannot brew ravensight from old bark.”

  “That expression is lost on me,” Rinerva said coolly.

  Lillik finally looked at her, her gaze flat and knowing.

  “I’m sure you can infer the meaning.”