Arwin stared at Yonas in surprise. It took him a moment to find his words.
“Your guild was able to clear an Adept ranked dungeon with little difficulty. I assume you must have a reasonable way in which you can accomplish this. If it hasn’t been determined yet, I would guess you have a manner in which it can be pulled off. And if not — well, you offered a loan. I trust you will identify your weakness and return the heart to me so that our original plan can be carried out. I will smooth over the issues.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time we pull off a little bit of bullshit,” Rodrick said. “Historically, betting on the Menagerie has gone fairly well for us. That said, as we’ve already pointed out, there’s a chance Twelve is too powerful for us to deal with. The loan gives us both what we want, in my opinion.”
A smile crossed Yonas’ features and he inclined his head. “Very good. Then we are in accord. I will deal with Raen, should the time come. But do not forget. For this to work, if you keep the Heart, you will need to deal with Twelve. Yourselves. The Dawnseekers cannot make enemies of him. We cannot interfere with any actions he takes. He is too dangerous.”
“Do you happen to know exactly how strong he is?” Arwin asked hopefully. He was pretty sure Rodrick would figure that out sooner rather than later, but the more they could figure out now, the better.
“The very bottom of Expert rank according to the last information we have on him,” Yonas said. He raised his hands to forestall any further questions. “And that will be the extent on the information I share. I am betting on your guild, not investing in it. I will not grow involved in this fight. That is too great of a risk, and all risk must be mitigated.”
“That’s understandable,” Lillia said, exchanging a glance with Arwin. Yonas had given them what they needed. The bottom of Expert rank placed Twelve considerably above them, especially if he’d actually reached the rank the proper way and had the Achievements and Titles to match.
He was basically two tiers above Arwin and Lillia, and a little less than that above the rest of the Menagerie.
“Oh, the potion won’t kill you. It just stays in your system a long time,” Esmerelda said, scratching at her chin. “Sits in your intestines. Makes ‘em smell like fruit. You’ll start rapidly sprouting flowers after you pass from natural causes. Great for funerals.”
“I see,” Madiv said. “Entertaining.”
“Quite,” Esmerelda agreed. She cast her gaze around the street again and let out a long suffering sigh. “Gods, I’m bored.”
“A peaceful life is one well lived.”
“Stuff your proverbs,” Esmerelda said. “I want to melt someone.”
“Didn’t you just say your potions wouldn’t actually kill anyone?”
“Depends on the potion.” Esmerelda shook her bag and potions clinked around within it. “I’ve got a few in here. Don’t quite remember which one does which.”
“Perhaps the first thing to go in your old age was not your hearing, but your mind.”
Esmerelda’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll show you—”
Her head snapped to the side, and Madiv’s did the same.
Something had moved near the edges of the street. The two of them both squatted down, watching with rapt interest as a man stepped out from an alleyway. He paused for a moment to glance around. His eyes landed on the Devil’s Den and he started toward it. The man didn’t seem to have the faintest idea that there were two people on the top of the building, watching him approach.
“I knew it,” Esmerelda hissed. “I told you someone would come, didn’t I?”
“I did not doubt you,” Madiv replied in the same, hushed tone. “But we must ensure he is an enemy. It could be someone hungry, seeking the great Lillian’s cooking. That would be a worthy pilgrimage.”
“Kissass,” Esmerelda muttered.
They both fell silent, watching the man as he drew up to the wall of the inn. He came to a stop, glanced to either side and behind himself, then pulled a small bag off his shoulders and reached inside.
The man pulled a flint.
“He’s trying to start a fire,” Esmerelda said.
The man pulled free a small piece of steel and crouched by the edge of the building. Madiv and Esmerelda exchanged a glance.
“He’s trying to set the Devil’s Den on fire,” Esmrelda said.
“I fear you may be right,” Madiv said. “Okay. We can kill him.”
A delighted grin spread across Esmerelda’s face. “Oh, thrilling. I’ve been waiting for this.”
She brought the launcher that dangled at her side up, grabbing the handles with both hands and taking aim. Before Madiv could even jump off the roof to attempt and deal with the man himself, Esmerelda squeezed the trigger.
There was a loud whump.
A round potion vial full of bright blue liquid streaked through the air in a blur. The man’s head jerked up, but not nearly fast enough. The potion struck him right in the temple with a sickening crunch.
The man crumpled to the ground — and the completely intact potion bottle clinked to the stone beside him. It rolled to a stop a foot away from his body, not so much as a scratch on it.
Madiv dropped from the roof, landing beside the fallen man. He reached down and pressed a hand to his neck, then rifled through his clothes. The vampire pulled a guild badge free from the man’s pocket — red, with a golden sword embossed upon it.
Ardent Guild. Goodie. That means I won’t have to keep the rest of the Menagerie from finding out about the body this time around.
Madiv grabbed the potion bottle from the ground, pinching it gingerly between two fingers. He slung the body over his shoulder. His knees bent and he leapt, sailing through the air and landing neigh-soundlessly on the roof beside Esmerelda, then dumped the man at their feet.
“Dead,” Madiv said. He eyed Esmerelda’s launcher. “How much force does that muster?”
“A lot.” Esmerelda plucked the potion from Madiv’s hands. “Thank you.”
“It was no effort… but I fear your weapon is broken. The potion did not break.”
Esmerelda squinted at Madiv. “Why would I want the potion to break? That would be wasting a perfectly good potion.”
Madiv stared at Esmerelda for a few seconds. Then he looked down at the body. “Did you want to do something with this? Or shall I dispose of it?”
Esmerelda tilted her head to the side. “Be a dear and hold it up for me. I want to inspect it.”
Madiv shrugged. He grabbed the corpse by its hair and lifted it into the air. Esmerelda peered at it, chewing her lower lip. Not all bodies were made equal, but they all had useful components. She just had to figure out which ones this one bore.
Never know when you need a few extra eyeballs. They can be quite the tricky ingredients to locate. Ironic.
Unfortunately for Esmerelda, it was a well-known fact that the universe always pursued the strong far harder than it did the weak.