Two of the women shouted at the whole host of smiths. Only Kriti appeared utterly calm, and only with a deep frown.

  “I’m going to report you in Adville. For treating your female customers this way.”

  “Now, now,” claimed the man with the nicest shoes and the enchanted ones. The owner of the place. “We don’t think it’s fair for you to go back into the city claiming women cannot come here for knives.”

  “You want me to lie about the whole thing?” Laural demanded.

  One of the burlier and nearly tallest smiths looked at Nettle and Bodi. “Aren’t you lot coming to get your girls?”

  At that, Spoon who had apparently been sleeping tucked under the carriage bottom this whole time in a tiny but unnoticeable ball, popped his blurry wild eyes up. His hair in every direction and alarm stamped on his face.

  Bodi swooped up the playing materials from the whole and stood up switching his gaze onto Nettle. Nettle stood up and considered the whole thing with the kind of analytical gaze his father used to insist people use for raining down wisdom from a philosophical viewpoint, of which nobody including the Fae, had ever seen value. But still the old look returned whenever he was surprised and uncomfortable.

  He stared down his nose at all of them, all younger races. In a commanding voice, he said, “Unhand any members of my party. If they have finished conducting their business with you, we will go.”

  “Our business is not done,” Day snapped. “They’ve been acting like total rubes to use this whole time. We were basically attacked in there by that guy!”

  All three pointed at a man who appeared to be mostly human apprentice. His hair was a bit greasy. At a look, one could see the rottenness inside him. But he’d not exactly expected to be turned while all his friends were around him. He shuffled awkwardly at being pointed out.

  Still if allowed unchecked this type of thing would fester. Nettle turned to the head of Smith’s shop. If they wanted to take back his haul so what? How dare anyone harass his party. The things he could do to them.

  “Masterwork Smith or do you go by a different name then?”

  The man shuffled from the group his eyes wary and locked on the Nettle with a clear light that he’d not wanted to be so identified. fighting with the shopkeeper was one thing. Choosing the tallest man who’d spoken or the others, that he could ignore, but he himself being called out this way put it all in his hands. He had the final say over this matter.

  Bodi cracked both knuckles in the silence. A strange sound came from his throat like he’d opened his jaw to let the air whistle in and out around his fangs. It was an uncomfortable noise that itched at Nettle’s back, but he did not turn around to tell him to stop with their infernal sound.

  The man with the expensive shoes stepped forward.

  “I am Master Chief.” He straightened. “Halogenic. This is my shop and these are all my men.”

  Masterchef? “And you keep on staff one who harasses his female customers?” Nettle demanded.

  Master Chief shifted from foot to foot, realizing this would make it him condoning it publicly to all his men. If he agreed, others of the Smiths might be emboldened. Further they could report to the city any words he said and sully his brand. Especially an elf, human, and djinn woman three not known to agree on such matters.

  “I don’t condone it. But I did not see it. There can be mistakes.” He warmed to this theory immediately. “The shop is small and often women wander into the smaller aisle. Perhaps she believed it happened but was confused in her emotional state.”

  Nettle gave him a grim smile. Having been caretaker of his own home and one young sister, as well as a further family members sister, Nettlebutte knew a great deal about these type of matters. It was one of the many reasons his father hadn’t been an excellent role model. Too much of a pacifist when action had been needed. His father stood by. Nettle told himself that he never would.

  “Ah, so the problem is that how can we know the truth?”

  “Nettle he-“

  He waved at Laural and she stilled her head tilted. It wasn’t often that he brushed them off. All three women were watching him now as if he might instead become their prey if the bulky smiths would go back in their shop. But he knew where he’d been driving at.

  “Yes, if I knew the truth, then I could do so much more. But as long as it’s a he said she said, well mistakes can happen.”

  Nettle gave a tight grim smile and rustled in his jacket. It wasn’t something he’d wanted to use this way, and he’d had other intentions with it. Particularly within the party itself he’d thought of many great uses, but now he’d have to spend it up. Such things were rare and hard to obtain.

  He marched over and taking the small layer of dust, he went and blew it into the disgusting man’s face.

  “It’s a truth sermon,” he told the others. Now he stared into those face of the much taller smith.

  “Did you grope any members of my party?”

  “These girls with their little asses and their bright eyes roaming around my shop. Of course, I touched them a time or two. It’s not my fault. They are walking around in those travelers’ outfits. If they weren’t trotting about all alone without an escort. It’s only fair for me to enjoy a taste or two especially when they are clearly ladies of the night,” he pointed at Day,” that one clearly works her skills of charm everywhere she goes. I don’t like to pay when it’s my right to get a test of the merchandise and to –“

  “Oh, do shut up Oilanders!” This was a younger man near his same age. While around him many apprentices looked askance, and plenty of others were horrified. This man was clearly frustrated with him.

  “Oilanders, “Nettle spoke softly “Have you done this to other customers?”

  “Of course I have. You can’t expect me spending all my time with these men not to get a touch when they come by. The towns all straightlaced and I have to travel quite far to get a whole of a good ass. It’s not my fault my needs aren’t met. This whole set up-“

  “Enough,” Master Chief snarled it so loudly that everyone froze. As he watched, Oilanders began muttering quietly to himself about what’s right and proper and places of things.

  Over half the smiths were staring at him with newborn hate and disgust, but one or two were watching around them. Trying to interpret just how his word were being heard by Mast Cheif. Nettle instinctively stepped back and put his hand out.

  It was a warning to the djinn and Laural. Both were turning red with fury, and he had no doubt either woman could kill the man in front of him. The problem stood, that if the two of them cut down the man before him, then they’d all be in a war for having killed a smith and that could only end one way. No matter what Bodi said.

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  “The truth is out.” Nettle insisted. “While I am tempted to let the ladies have their fun with him, he’s a creation of your forge. A twisted metal you’d let grow around you and reach out to spike your profits over nothing but a lack of awareness.”

  Nettle locked eyes with Master Chief, and both of them knew in one glance. Master Chief had known. He knew that around him his people who they represented had become a place that prided itself in letting such a misogynistic ideas break into the heart of their own halls. And while Oilers had acted this time, if any of the faces in the crowd were to go by, others had the same thoughts or supported the same views. He’d been either too weak or too foolish to recognize the danger it posed to himself. Not just in picking up the idea, but in repercussions to his business, and to the people around him as well. Others believing it, forgetting who they themselves were.

  Some ideas are insidious. The more you let them grow, the more you lose everything you value.

  Nettle plastered on a fake smile all the same. “Well, now that you’ve learned the truth, I am sure you’ll best manage it. We all will be reporting you to the council in Adville over this matter. I’m sure they’ll be interested to hear of how you deal with Oilanders and his other associates.

  Nettle gave him a thin smile barely moving back towards the carriage.

  “Wait,” Master Chief was running the numbers in his head. Master Chief counted them, he went passed the girls quickly, then Nettle, and then back towards Spoon, and finally it landed on the orc. Master Chief studied Bodi, with the strange whistling sound. In an instant, a horrified realization crossed his face. A strike of clarify so real and understanding that it wiped away the other thoughts with it. He wouldn’t attack this party.

  “Go!” Master Chief ordered them. “I will handle my own people my own way. Not with the ideas of outsiders bothering me so.”

  The women load into the cart, Laural with some supplies and the djinn full handed as well, but Day had nothing to work with. So at least one of them had not gotten what she wished due to the problem on the road of at speed. Spoon handling the reins with great care with Day beside him fuming.

  Only Kriti appeared calm in the entire party. Her eyes blank and empty.

  #

  Once they’d gone nearly half a day, before they took a rest and then continued. Their pace had been fast in case the smiths decided to follow them after all. Smiths could ambush and kill them if they chose. Buth they’d traveled until almost dark and stopped off into the ditch with a poor campsite to work with. Water from a stream and ditch for an uneven rest.

  “I never thought I’d say this,” admitted Laural as she watered the horses and began her pitching her tent. “I really preferred doing business with the necromancer. He’s less organized and has much less metal, but much less of a vile group than Smiths.”

  Nettle stretched as Spoon started a quick fire, to help make them all a warmed drink of tea. “I’m sorry I didn’t have more things to give that one Oilanders. I wish we could have killed him, but I think a few would have started after us then. Or gotten into it right then.”

  Day was glum. “You shouldn’t have wasted a truth sermon on that guy. He’s too worthless to use such a valuable potion on.

  Nettle raised his eyebrows. “You think I would take truth serum with me on such a long journey to use it on that filth? That dirt I got off their own shipping containers. It was very enjoyable to spit it into his face. Not even an expensive flask of babbling for that one. Just telling him he had to talk was enough.

  She laughed. “I’m relieved you didn’t waste money or a spell on that thing.

  “Don’t worry, Laural, Day, Nettle,” it was a quiet voice of Kriti, “Oilers won’t live past three suns. He did it to himself bumping into me the first time. I’ve got plenty of poison darts from the necromancer and one of them definitely poked through. I was going to feel bad about the whole thing, until I realized what else he was up to. Now I just consider it the cost of his business. Poison darts that cannot hurt their user are easy enough to find. Everyone who tried to touch me will be gone. And Day, Laural, I gave your lot a special dose of an old wives’ trick. They’ll take a lot longer to die.”

  Nettle gave her knowing smile while Bodi chuffed a laugh.

  Spoon commented from his spot further away from the fire himself than anyone else. “I really am sorry. I didn’t even think you’d want me to stay since it was such a long day. I didn’t notice anything at all while I shopped and then I was catching up on some rest. I really should have noticed more.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered if you had,” Kriti shrugged. “They would have done the exact same things with you all standing there. They’re used to parties knuckling under once they get thirty or more meat heads in the same space. It wasn’t like you could have magically changed anything. Sometimes just being a man standing there doesn’t do anything.”

  Spoon made a face. But then cleared. “Right. Nothing I could have done I suppose.”

  But he remained slightly fuming about the whole matter. Sometimes Spoon was weak, even when it really matters. He’d have to live with it for the rest of his life, those times he’d not noticed. The times he’d not had enough power. For the first time in his life, he wanted to skill up. To take whatever meager abilities he’d ever had and make it so he wasn’t the only one doing nothing. Make it to where he too mattered. He too counted.

  Nettle had been working a masterful deal, Bodi got thrown out, plus got them out of the final confrontation. He was the only one who didn’t have an excuse other than caught napping. Kriti, a cook, had done more than he had. Maybe she was lying about the potions stuff but even if she was, he saw how it calmed everyone. He needed to get more powerful, immediately.

  “I wish you’d told me,” Day muttered to herself. “That you killed them all.”

  Laural sat by the fire and everyone got their drinks about to sit together.

  “I wish you’d told me too Kriti. I might have told all the nearby animals if they saw a monster to bring it over to the Smith’s shop. They’ll never have peace so long as my message gets relayed on. And assuming there is monsters and that the animals decide to do it which you know.”

  Day sat down and picked up a mug, wincing. “Oh, I really wish we’d all talked more.”

  The group all looked at her.

  “I might have left behind a coin that will mutate into a metal eating amoeba and destroy everything there. I take an interest in all lost arts of necromancy like necro-alchemy. Not very popular because of destroying your own gold. It dies after ten hours on the ground without food, so it’s not like it will mutate and destroy the world.” She gave a slight guilty look. “But I’m sure Laural’s monsters are fine. It’s not like they’re made of metal.”

  Laural frowned. “Actually, under the mountain there are sea pangolin’s which I specifically asked to come grab the metal bits to add to their foot and shell.”

  “Those are?”

  “Giant snails that have metal feet. These ones I instructed to just grab stuff and add it to their looks.”

  They sat for a few seconds considering this potentially world ending event. Or potentially metal ending world event.

  “You sent giant metal snails to consume a metal eating amoeba,” Nettle glanced around having spaced the fact only he knew Kriti was an assassin. “And nobody bothered to ask Kriti if she’d maybe handled it?”

  Bodi raised both hands. “I can’t believe Day decided to eradicate all their metal. That’s pretty extreme even for a chiropractor.”

  “Why would we ask Kriti?” Day very weakly tried to distract them from herself.

  “You did go a little far.” Laural sighed. “And I’m too far away to tell the snails not to show up now. We could go back-“

  “No way,” Bodi jumped in. “They will definitely decide to kill us when half of them start dying, their metal melts to dust, and monsters hit in waves. Those same monsters will get us too, remember? We can avoid all that and ever seeing them again by traveling faster tomorrow and early.”

  “The rest of you were killing people. I just removed the reason they would be there to prey on travelers and they clearly stole a lot of that stuff!”

  “I’m sure this will never come back to bother us,” Spoon muttered, already feeling very bothered by it.

  “I really thought my sanctions from Adville were harsh,” at the glares of all three women Nettle gave a half smile, “but I see how your methods are more effective.”

  “If I see their ugly bodies again, I’m animating them to do the worst tasks imaginable.”

  “As chiropractor, couldn’t you do stuff to them while alive?” Nettle’s education on necromancer clearly lacked.

  “Chiropractice means I am the only necromancer that impacts live bodies, but it’s a lost art intended to heal others. Not harm. Most necromancers might be a little strange, but they can’t do anything to your body until your dead. A chiropractor seeks to fine that line between dead or damaged and return it to the living. A frozen spine freed to mobility again. My family is also the keepers of all the various lost arts of necromancy. But I personally am very peaceful,” she insisted.

  “You might have killed Quicksand monsters everywhere at their orgy.” Laural sounded sad.

  “And you just removed the existence of metal from a number of dying smiths who devoted their lives to metal,” Kriti sounded amused rather than annoyed.

  “Surely an off worlder will get a quest to kill the snails, right?” Spoon needed time to level up.

  Nettle never considered he might end the world not by his own skills, but by simply putting the wrong people together and staying together. He wished they’d left the chiropractor behind an thrown away the cart. And that he’d stolen everything metallic before it got eaten by a necromantic spell. This lack of communication hit him in his coin pouch for the first time.

  Day finally put down her steaming mug of tea and transparently asked, “So what did you get shoved into the back of the cart? You act like you used a five fingered discount, Nettle. What are we all stuck with now?”

  Nobody chose to argue with her flat tone. One must keep their necromancers happy to keep living in a safe party.