"Yes, I would love some help, so stop grinning at me like a fool and start helping!"
Ray glanced at the three goblins, then back at her, scratching his jaw like a mechanic quoting a repair.
"Happy to help, though I should mention up front that my rate for a job like this runs... a hundred silver."
Her mouth fell open, the rapier dipping an inch as a goblin raked its claws down the cracked Veil.
"You watched those men rob me not one minute ago, so where exactly do you imagine I keep a hundred silver?"
"No problem at all, I accept promissory notes from clients with honest faces," he said, never taking his eyes off the goblins.
’Cash before miracles is the oldest rule in the business, even on my very first day in town.’
The goblins fanned out around the dome, crystal knobs twitching, giving their dead chief a wide and nervous berth. The smallest one lunged at Ray’s flank, meeting a snapping push kick that folded it straight into the dirt.
"Gah, meat kicks like a mule!" it squealed, clutching its belly.
"Excuse me, buddy," Ray said, wagging the breaker dagger at it like a disappointed schoolteacher, "the grown-ups are negotiating over here."
"Are you seriously haggling with me in the middle of a goblin attack?" she demanded, jabbing her rapier through a gap at a clawed hand.
"I’m haggling in the middle of a goblin attack that I’m currently winning, which is a completely different thing."
Another goblin hurled itself at the dome, the Veil spitting sparks as fresh cracks spidered across its curve.
"Standard terms apply, with payment due when your purse comes home and no interest if you settle within the week."
Her rapier froze mid-thrust, "Interest, you want interest on top of the fee?"
"I said no interest, lady, making this the friendliest contract I’ve written all year."
She bared her teeth at him, "Fine, a hundred silver, and may every river spirit in Kelford curse you for a vulture!"
She dug a stub of charcoal from her pocket, tearing a page from the clinic ledger on her belt.
"Write down the amount along with what it’s for," he said, sidestepping a swipe, "while I keep the neighbors entertained."
Charcoal scratched across the page while goblin claws screeched along the Veil above her head.
"I, the undersigned, owe this vulture one hundred silver for a rescue, payable when my purse is returned," she read through gritted teeth.
"Cross out the word vulture, then write Ray instead, seeing as that happens to be my—"
"No, vulture is the truest word on this page," she snapped over him, signing the bottom with a vicious flourish.
She slapped the note flat against the inside of the Veil so he could read it through the flickering glow.
[ CONTRACT LOGGED ]
[Contract: Xua Rescue]
[Client: Yuzu]
[Fee: 100 Silver]
[Status: Payment Pending]
’There it is, my first contract on the books, with the shop opening the second this note gets paid.’
Ray’s hands went into his coat, the joking face coming off him like a jacket slipping from its hook.
Inside the Veil, Yuzu felt the noon warmth drain out of the gorge, though not one cloud crossed the sun.
The mule stopped stamping behind her, standing rigid in its traces with both ears pinned flat to its skull.
He counted three goblins at nine, eleven and fifteen feet, then took them in exactly that order.
Both pistols cleared leather together, the first shot cracking off the gorge walls before the nearest goblin could blink. Its head snapped back with a hole above one eye, the knobs on its brow bursting into violet grit.
"Meat dies now!" the second goblin shrieked, leaping at him with both claws spread wide.
It came close enough that Ray smelled the swamp water on its breath and the rot between its teeth.
He stepped inside the leap, driving a Muay Thai elbow into its jaw as the muzzle found its ribs. The trigger broke once, the shot muffled against its body as it folded over his forearm like wet laundry.
The last goblin was already scrambling up the scree on all fours when the third round punched through its back.
It slid down the loose rock on its belly, pawing at the wound in its chest, "Aghhh, there is no arrow, no arrow anywhere, so what bit me?"
"Lie still now, friend, for it never needs to bite twice," Ray said quietly, almost kindly.
The goblin stared up at him, trying to understand a death that made no sense, then stopped trying.
[ HOSTILES NEUTRALIZED ]
[Count: 3]
[Time: 3.9 Seconds]
[Rounds Remaining: 61]
’Three rounds for three goblins in under four seconds is math I can live with, as long as the shop opens before the magazines run dry.’
The Veil dissolved into sparks as she lowered her rapier, staring at the pistols like they might bite her next. She kept working her jaw against the ringing in her ears while the last echoes rolled away down the gorge.
"What in all the rivers was that, some kind of thunder wand?"
He spun both pistols into their holsters, the grin snapping back into place, "That’s a trade secret, with a huge emphasis on the word secret."
"I’ve seen fire mages and lightning priests, but never a goblin dying from a hole with no arrow in it."
"You didn’t hear me chant either, ruling out magic," he said cheerfully, "and leaving us with miracles."
"Miracles don’t usually come with an invoice," she muttered, folding the note into her sleeve.
Ray crouched to collect three brass casings from the dust, blowing each one clean before he pocketed it.
"Why are you picking up those little cups?"
"Brass costs damn good money, Doc, plus I never leave my receipts lying around for strangers to study."
She huffed, tucking a loose twist of lilac hair behind her ear, "My name is Yuzu, independent healer out of Kelford, who apparently owes you a fortune now."
"So that’s what the scribble at the bottom says," he said, offering a hand she pointedly ignored, "and the name’s Ray, problem solver, reasonable rates, no refunds."
"You sat up on that ledge the whole time, watching them sell me to goblins like a mule at market."
"I was assessing the situation, which is the professional word for watching with a plan."
She snorted, "Hmph, a vulture with a vocabulary is still a vulture."
"A vulture with a vocabulary just saved your life, which I believe is worth... oh, about a hundred silver."
She stalked over to the crowned goblin, nudging its head with her toe until the broken neck rolled loose. Her nose wrinkled at the angle, though her hands stayed steady as she checked the eyes for any spark.
"You broke its neck by falling on it from thirty feet, though nobody teaches that technique at the guild."
"They damn well should, considering it’s cheap, quiet and works every single time you land it."
Ray crouched beside the crowned goblin, working the tip of his hunting dagger under one violet knob on its skull. The crystal resisted for a moment before it popped free with a wet click, rolling straight into his open palm.
"Don’t touch that with your bare hands," she said sharply, kneeling beside him, "since crystal growing out of living flesh usually means channel toxicity."
"Channel toxicity sounds expensive as hell, so what does it actually do to a person?"
"It starts in the fingertips, creeping inward," she said, pushing his wrist away from his face, "and that is all you need to know before you wash your hands."
’No rock should ever run this warm or hum against my palm like a cheap refrigerator, unless somebody made it that way.’
He wrapped the knob in a strip torn from the goblin’s loincloth, tucking the bundle into an inner pocket.
"You’re carrying goblin rags around like keepsakes, so you’re washing your hands before you touch my mule."
"It isn’t a keepsake, it’s evidence, never disgusting even when it smells like a swamp."
She gave him a flat stare, the face of a woman deciding whether her rescuer was brave or simply strange.
"I was hauling medicine home for a fever in Kelford that looks exactly like that thing feels."
"How many people are sick back home?" he asked, his voice suddenly flat and careful.
"Eleven when I left, two of them children... which is eleven too many for one clinic."
She rubbed the bruise rising on her elbow, eyes drifting north along the trail where Rogan’s men vanished.
"Rogan’s crew took my clinic rent, my sunleaf and every fever tincture I was carrying back to Kelford."
"Who exactly are these guys, besides four clowns with terrible customer service?"
"They’re licensed guild escorts with a clean record," she said bitterly, "whom I paid half up front."
The mule chose that moment to limp over, shoving its nose into Ray’s coat as if it smelled money there.
"Does the mule owe me money too, or is it just checking my pockets for the—"
Yuzu knelt by its left foreleg before he could finish, running her thumb down the tendon with practiced pressure.
"It’s a strain on the left fore with nothing torn, meaning it walks if we walk slowly."
Ray scratched the mule between the ears, "Then that purse has my hundred silver in it, which makes those four bastards my problem now."
"Four armed escorts against one man with a loud wand is bad math, vulture."
He checked the magazine by feel, seating it home with a click, "After doing the math, I think somebody should go warn those poor clowns."
’Four men have a head start with a stolen purse, but not one of them knows that collections is coming.’
He started up the north trail at an easy walk, whistling a tune nobody in Verfall knew.
Yuzu stared after him for one long breath, then grabbed the mule’s lead rope to drag the limping animal along. Her skirt stank of goblin bait, her elbow throbbed, yet her jaw was set with the stubbornness of the frontier.
"Wait for me, you vulture, that satchel is full of my medicine!"
"Keep up then, Doc," he called over his shoulder, "since collections wait for nobody."