Ana’s first thought after the fight ended was just how clean she was. Sure, there was some of the unavoidable spatter, but that was about it. Ana was used to ending a fight with as much of her covered in blood as not.

  When Deni brought her crackling fist down, Ana had expected what remained of the boar’s head to pop and probably catch on fire for good measure. Instead its whole body had shaken violently as its mass threw Deni to the side with a force that, when Ana absorbed it, felt roughly like what she imagined it must be like to get hit by a slow-moving truck.

  The demon was dead the moment Deni touched it and had collapsed mid-stride, sliding several yards on the even floor before stopping. After Ana staggered down from her perch atop its shoulders, pausing only to make sure that someone was checking on Deni—Rayni was, and the younger woman was already getting to her feet—she looked at where Deni’s fist had hit the thing. There was an uneven, smoking hole there, surrounded by burns, but that was all.

  The extent of the damage that Deni’s Thunder Tap had wrought only became apparent when Rayni cut it open.

  “Well, that’s a damn shame,” the Huntress said, putting her harvesting tools away as she looked at what poured out of the incision she’d made. “No point in even trying to harvest anything here. Our time is better spent moving deeper.”

  Deni’s punch had about the same effect as a shaped charge. When the young Evoker’s fist made contact with the demon’s forehead, her Shaping had discharged forward rather than out in every direction. After annihilating the demon’s brain it had continued through the neck, spreading out into the torso where it had turned bone, blood and organs into something like a chunky, badly burned stew, which dribbled steaming and smoking out onto the black glass floor after Rayni cut the dead monster open.

  “Sorry,” Deni said sheepishly from where she stood by the side. “I didn’t consider that.”

  “No, no,” Rayni said, smiling as she shook her head. “I’m not even mad. That’s amazing. What Level are you again?” she asked, as though she couldn’t just Inspect the girl, or check her Party roster.

  Smiling sheepishly at the praise, Deni looked away and ran her hand through the stubble on the back of her head; she’d had her curly brown hair, already short, cut and shaved into a side-cut similar to Ana’s. “Nine,” she said. “Buuut…”

  Ana knew that tone. So did everyone else. Every head in the chamber turned to the Evoker, most of them in time to catch when her label changed from [Human Evoker (9)] to [Human Evoker (10)].

  “Deniii!” With a squeal of joy, Messy rushed in to wrap her arms around her young friend. She lifted her bodily off the floor, spinning her around in circles fast enough that her legs lifted outward. “Congratulations! Level 10! You’re a Level 10 Evoker!”

  “I am!” Deni giggled joyfully. “I fucking am!”

  Deni’s feet had barely touched the ground before everyone else crowded in, hugging—or the safer choice of ruffling her hair, in Perrion’s case—and generally congratulating her. Ana took her turn, getting her hug in while the girl stood stunned after being kissed on both cheeks by Jisha—not a custom she was familiar with, apparently.

  They’d all contributed to the fight, so for once Ana actually got a Lesser Crystal, with a Least as her bonus. But at her Level the boar’s Threat hadn’t been very high; to everyone else it had been considerably higher, and their rewards had been correspondingly better. No wonder Deni had Leveled; she’d received a Major Crystal, with the others all getting Mediums. At this rate they may well see a couple of Levels among the lower Level members of the Party. They sure seemed to think so; with the entrance clear and nothing to harvest, the kids were soon talking about getting moving.

  “Is everyone feeling alright?” Ana asked. She had some aches and pains from when Deni got rammed, but nothing that should slow her down.

  “Everyone good!” Jisha insisted. “On y va, on y va!”

  “Yeah, onniva! That way!” Deni agreed, pointing with her staff—more like a walking stick considering how the girl used it—seemingly at random down one of the three tunnels leading away from the entrance.

  Both girl’s auras were bright with unmasked excitement, and it was hard not to get caught up. Not that Ana put in much of an effort. When no one objected she laughed, acquiescing with a “Fine, on y va,” of her own.

  There wasn’t much call for being on high alert with Rayni taking point, a hundred yards or so ahead of them. As they walked down the long, uneven passage, squeezing through gaps and climbing up and down ledges, Ana found her thoughts drifting inexorably back to what had happened when she entered the Delve.

  The Lord of Order had plucked her into some private space and given her an offer. Or more like a command, really: step back, stop interfering, and live in peace. She was almost entirely sure that it had been the Sentinel; the voice that sometimes spoke to her was less direct, preferring to suggest an easier way forward or ask her questions she had no comfortable answers to. The voice that wasn’t a voice, on the other hand, which had reduced her to only a mind to comprehend its will, had demanded obedience. If that didn’t scream “Lord of Order,” Ana didn’t know what did.

  She couldn’t deny that it was an attractive offer. It was pretty much all she wanted; a chance to live a long, peaceful life free of struggle or responsibility. At least for as long as no one decided that she was a loose end that needed snipping. But three things kept her from simply accepting and doing as the voice wished.

  In order of ascending importance, the first was her promise to the Wayfarer. Ana took her promises seriously, but she could break them if she had to. She wouldn’t die for the sake of honor, nor would she allow anyone important to her to come to harm for its sake. But she’d begun to like the very human deity, and even if she hadn’t, breaking her word to one deity to appease another seemed like a poor life choice.

  The second was spite. Honestly, fuck the Sentinel and all his supporters. Because of him, her old life was irrevocably gone, along with all its comforts. Even if someone could reverse the ritual used to drag her and the Stolen into the Splinter and send them back, Ana wouldn’t go. If she ever returned to Earth she’d spend the rest of her life running and hiding from Mr. Stamper, who’d want to know what had happened to his boy and was unlikely to let her live once he found out. That was unless she chose to try to kill Mr. Stamper before he killed her, which she was unwilling to do. She’d rather run and hide. But more than anything she’d prefer not to be in this position at all, and she’d take great pleasure in doing her part to punish the arrogant bastard who was ultimately responsible for all the pain and frustration of the last hundred-odd days, and all that she expected in her future.

  But ultimately neither of those two reasons really mattered, because the third and most important reason was Messy. Messy would never accept Ana just sitting back and letting the Splinters collapse. Messy believed in the Splinters and the Wayfarer as the keys to peace and prosperity for all sapient life, and if Ana didn’t even try to help stop the Sentinel from tearing it all down… if there was one thing that might extinguish Messy’s love and respect for her, that was it. Ana was sure of it. And so she’d fight the Sentinel to her dying breath, or until Messy herself begged her to stop.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  She was well aware that this was neither a normal nor a healthy way of thinking, but she’d come to terms with her obsession. And Touanne, the only person she’d really discussed it with besides Messy, had told her that she’d be fine as long as she respected Messy’s autonomy and didn’t succumb to jealousy.

  So, she wouldn’t accept the Sentinel’s offer. And having decided that, she could have kept the whole thing to herself, but she decided not to. Messy had a good head on her shoulders, and might have some insight that Ana herself missed. And the Wayfarer needed to know. For better or for worse, and entirely indifferent to Ana’s own desires, the goddess was Ana’s patron. If their enemy was now going so far as to mind-nap Ana when she was vulnerable, that was definitely something the Wayfarer needed to be aware of.

  In fact, it was more than a little concerning that the goddess hadn’t said a word about the matter, despite it having happened almost half an hour ago as Ana thought about it.

  Hey, great and worshipful queen of the hobos, Ana started, did you notice anything odd when I entered this Delve?

  As it often did, it took a few seconds before the Wayfarer replied. When she did she said, I know that you’re being irreverent on purpose, but I quite like “queen of the hobos.” You should mention it to the priest. And no, I didn’t see anything, but I wasn’t paying full attention. Should I have?

  I’d say so, yeah. The Sentinel just snatched me out of my body and demanded I go live out my days on a farm somewhere.

  The unbroken stream of invective that followed was not at all unusual for the Wayfarer when the subject of the Sentinel came up. They were one of the reasons Ana wasn’t too resentful of her connection to the goddess. If she had to be in frequent contact with a literal deity, she could at least take some comfort in her patron being the most human of the bunch. And what was more human than cursing up a storm when you were royally pissed off? Or human-like, at least—Ana didn’t actually know if the Wayfarer had been human, or elfin, or something else. All she knew for sure was that the goddess had been mortal at one point, and appeared as a human woman when they spoke face to face.

  Fine, the goddess said once her tirade had wound down. Her words were faint at that point, exhausted from the effort of pointing out the Sentinel’s innumerable deficiencies. I’ll keep a close eye on you next time. Let me know when you enter or exit a mana sink. If he tries again, I’ve got an idea.

  With that, the sense of presence that always accompanied the goddess’ voice vanished, leaving Ana alone in her own mind once more.

  Walking just a few feet to Ana’s right, Jisha turned and leveled a curious look at Ana. “What’s so funny?” the girl asked.

  “Hmm?” Ana replied before she realized that she was smiling.

  “You’re… I don’t know. Glowing? There’s a good feeling coming off you, like you’re having fun.”

  “Oh?” For once Ana wasn’t bothered. No one in that place would judge her or use anything they learned against her, that was as sure as anything could be. And what harm was there in anyone, especially Jisha, knowing that Ana felt pretty good, despite the weirdness when she entered the Delve?

  Still, she really should get a better handle on her aura. “Sorry,” she said. “I keep forgetting to mask my emotions. I’ve been learning for two months now, but it still doesn’t come naturally.”

  “No, no, please,” Jisha said, returning her smile. “It’s nice. Like walking in the sun on a chilly day, you know?”

  “Still, I really need to make it entirely unconscious. It’s nice that you like it right now, but you wouldn’t say so if I was pissed, or fucking pining for Messy again or something.”

  The focal point of Ana’s life was currently walking a few steps ahead, talking excitedly to Deni about things she wanted to try in their next fight. At the mention of her name, though, Messy turned around and smiled, raising her eyebrows in a silent question even as she kept talking.

  “Nothing. Love you,” Ana said, prompting Messy to kiss the air in her general direction before turning back to their young friend.

  “Ah, gods,” Jisha said with a happy sigh. “You two are adorable. But I’ve already felt that, remember? The first time, when we were out with Rayni, Kaira, and the boys, it got uncomfortable to be too close to you sometimes.”

  “Wait, could you feel it already back then?” That was news to Ana. She’d figured Jisha had raised her Connection Multiplier recently, and that was why the young Fighter had started picking up on other people’s auras.

  “Sometimes. It’s easier now with my Multiplier a few steps higher, but Touanne says my natural Connection is pretty high. And I couldn’t feel Kaira at all, only you, and only when you were really sad. Or when Kaira almost burned your head off.” Jisha wiped her forehead theatrically. “Merde, when I was cleaning you off after that, there were moments when the anger and frustration was coming off you so strongly I wanted to slap you.”

  Ana couldn’t stop an incredulous laugh from bubbling out of her, earning her another curious glance from Messy and Deni. The idea of Jisha striking anyone in anger, of hurting anyone at all who wasn’t actively trying to harm her or someone in her care, was so ludicrous as to be funny. “I’m glad you didn’t!” she said. “You might have hurt your hand!”

  Jisha stuck her tongue out at her.

  The tunnel that Deni had chosen for them turned out to lead, after many twists and turns and more than a fair share of splits leading to dead ends, back to the entrance. That was no surprise; they’d started getting suspicious when they realized that they hadn’t found a single magical barrier after the first hour. But it was in no way a waste. They encountered no less than five demons among those twists, turns, and dead ends, and killed them with nothing worse than a few scrapes and bruises. All of which ended up on Ana, of course, but it was worth the pain to know that the other, less durable members of her Party were whole and sound.

  The Party was also becoming visibly better at working together. With Ana’s presence pretty much removing the fear of severe consequences for failure—and with her explicit consent and encouragement—the others were free to focus on teamwork rather than individual survival. It took a few false starts, but they’d gotten most of those out of their system by the third demon in the Delve, and by the time they returned to the entrance the number of minor injuries per fight was down significantly. They were communicating clearly in most situations, and were beginning to cover for each other’s weak spots without anyone having to say anything.

  Perhaps more importantly, they were learning to find a rhythm in their fights, and set each other up to utilize everyone’s strengths. Lesirell with her high Strength, her shield, and her greater body mass could momentarily stun most demons, or even knock them off their feet, but only if they were distracted. The job of distracting the monsters fell to Rayni and Perrion, who’d use their higher Agility to dart in and out of range of their teeth and claws, tempting them with easy targets. Then, once a demon was immobile, Jisha could use heavier, slower swings of her halberd to cleave muscle and tendons; Messy could pierce eyes and joints with her long sword; and Deni, of course, could unleash her Shapings with little to no fear of missing.

  Of course, it didn’t always work. A demon might not take the bait when the two archers tried to distract it, or it might actually land a swipe of its claws. Lesirell might fail to stun or knock it down, or it might recover too fast for anyone to capitalize on it. But with practice, made possible by the knowledge that they could fail and live, their successes grew more common than their failures.

  Between when they returned to the entrance and when they found the Crystal chamber, they encountered another four demons, and on the last of those, the tenth overall since entering the Delve, their performance reached a peak of sorts. It was one of the possessed wolves that were so common among the demons, and it barely had time to start its lunge at Perri before Lessie tackled it. That was followed by Jisha’s halberd cleaving through its spine at the middle of its back at almost the same moment as Messy’s blade slid through its shoulder joint, leaving its back legs paralyzed and one of its front legs barely able to move.

  Deni took her time Shaping and popped the demon in the brainpan from three feet away.

  Afterward, as they were harvesting under Rayni’s supervision, everybody was thinking how easy the Crystal Chamber would be. Ana was sure of it, from the way they grinned while looking down the passage. Nobody said a word on the subject; in fact, they carefully skirted around it, but only because they knew how Lesirell felt about the Lady of Fate. Apparently, her sense of humor was infamous.

  and read 8 chapters ahead of both Splinter Angel and Draka! You also get to read anything else I’m trying out — which is how Splinter Angel got started.

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