Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
“Monstrous enough.” Hawk shakes his head and moves over to the weapons rack. “And ratlings, of course. They moved in when Old Prell collapsed, and they’re not keen on anyone digging around in the ruins. If they hear you in the tunnels, they’ll come after you. You will need to be on guard. And then there’s other teams.”
“Wait, did you just say ‘other teams’?” I blurt out. “They’d attack us?”
“It’s not unheard-of. We all know of teams that die down to a man and yet someone else makes it out with a fantastic artifact but they can’t exactly describe where they found it. No one would accuse them directly, but…it’s best to be careful.” He gestures at the weapons rack. “Does anyone have experience with any of these?”
I stare at his broad back, agog. I knew that there would be ratlings in the tunnels. I knew that there would be other problems, like collapsing paths and rockslides and things nature presented to us as we crawled leagues under the earth for ancient treasures. It never occurred to me that other teams might attack and rob us simply to get what we’ve uncovered. Gooseflesh pimples my arms and I rub them tightly. I wonder just how common “accidents” are in the guild.
“Anyone?” Hawk turns to look at us, and I’m pretty sure he’s frowning.
Kipp moves forward and grabs a sword from the rack. It’s the smallest one. Actually, it’s probably more like a dagger. He twirls it around his wrist expertly and then sheaths it, gazing up at Hawk.
The Taurian glares down at him. “You want to be the sword?”
Kipp shrugs.
“You’re half the size of anyone else, and you’re still wearing your house, despite me reminding you repeatedly that you can’t do so. If you won’t listen now, what makes you think I’ll trust you to listen when your team is in the tunnels?”
Kipp shrugs again, and this time the twirled shell of his house slips off his back in a fluid motion, clanging to the floor like a dropped bowl. He flourishes the blade again and then races up the side of one of the narrow walls, then onto the ceiling, his sucker-like toes clinging to the wood. When he’s upside down, he twirls the sword again and assumes a warrior stance.
Hawk sighs heavily and tugs on his nose ring again. “Fine. Great. You’re agile. I meant it. You’re not a team of one, you’re a Five. Understand?”
The slitherskin licks his eyeball, his long, sticky tongue darting out. He sheaths the tiny blade at his waist and crawls over to a corner, watching.
Our teacher turns back to us. “Anyone else?”
Gwenna raises a hand. “I’m good at cooking. And mending. Used to be a maid, right up until I came here. I could manage the gear.”
Nearby, Mereden claps her hands. “Oh! I could be the healer!”
“What, I’m supposed to navigate?” Lark asks, belligerent. “I can’t even find my way out of a pub. I should be the sword.”
Kipp growls, the sound adorably cute instead of alarming. He clearly doesn’t like that idea.
“You could be the shield,” Gwenna tells her in a reasonable voice. “Aspeth can’t.”
“Why not?” Lark demands.
“Yes, why not?” I ask.
Gwenna glares at me. “Reasons. There are lots of reasons for her to be safe in the back and not at the front.”
And I’m sure most of them deal with the fact that I’m nobility, but of course we can’t say that. I just shake my head at her. “I want to do whatever I’m best at. And if it means to be the bulwark, then I shall happily contribute.”
Hawk raises his hands in the air. “This is a lovely conversation and I’m glad you’re all working together, but I didn’t ask what position you wanted. I asked what you had experience in. It’s clear to me that some of you are useless.”
“Hey,” Lark protests.
“Not you,” he says. “Aspeth. She’s the weak link in your chain right now.”
“Rude!” I’m mortified at his words. I’m a holder’s daughter. I’m educated. I cannot be the weak link. “You haven’t even assessed me yet!”
“I can tell just because of how soft you are.”
“Hear that, team? He thinks she’s soft.” Lark chortles.
He points at her, furious. “You made it sexual, when all I meant was that she has no muscles or stamina. She’s…she’s…pillowy.”
“Please, stop,” I say dryly. “My ego can’t take much more.” Pillowy. How humiliating.
Hawk glares at both me and Lark, as if I had anything to do with his assessment of my fluffiness. “It’s crucial that your skills are tested because if the wrong person is put in the lead, you could all die.” He crosses his arms over his chest and I can’t help but notice that his guild coat is missing again today. It’s almost as if he prefers to wear as little as possible when training us….