"I would buy my father's body back," Dugan said.

And a chill fell over the table.

Across all places and all people in the Abyssal Lands, one tradition was constant: always cremate the dead.

It was the way of things; as the spirit fell to the earth, the body was given to the sky. In the process, the ashes were taken by the wind, never to be seen again. To not cremate a body was rare. To buy or sell a body was unheard of.

We all stared at Dugan, stunned. Castille winced and looked down in embarrassment.

Tom licked his scabby lips, searching for the right words…

"How much does he cost?"

And finding the wrong ones.

Dugan's hard, chestnut eyes melted into a raw, naked fury.

"Nephew!" Arwen said.

"I know, I know... I'm goin' to head out. Ladies, show me to my room?"

The trio hurried away from the table. With great effort, they guided Tom up the stairs.

Across from me, Castille rubbed Dugan's back, whispering something soft in his ear. Through the power of the spectre, I overheard what she said.

"It's alright. We'll get him back and kill the noble who took him from you."

Killing nobles? I hid the surprise on my face but couldn't help the slight tug on the corners of my lips. The puzzle of Dugan's past was becoming a bit clearer. He had the same violent reaction at the mention of the black contract—the two things were connected.

My eyes widened at my realization.

A noble bought his father's body using a black contract.

It made sense. Black contracts were the black-market deals administered by the Sanctifier Guild, and what was more black market than the buying and selling of human bodies?

Still. To go that low… To be honest, it wasn't surprising. I had experienced the depravity of Luskaine's nobility firsthand. But what did Dugan's family get in return for the body?

What did everyone want?

Land.

"Dugan, I apologize for my nephew. He didn't mean you any harm," Arwen said.

Dugan sighed and slumped his shoulders, returning his gaze to the bottom of his mug.

I looked at the quiet man with new eyes. If I was right, that meant that his Landbound abilities were the result of a black contract.

I knew he was interesting.

Castille waved Cassandra over from the bar.

She came, resting a hand on Castille's shoulder with a ghost of a smile on her face.

"What do you need?"

"We need another round of ale for the big man."

Dugan looked over his shoulder at Cassandra.

"Do you have something stronger?"

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She smiled wider.

"I have a bottle of brandy I've been saving for special occasions. We can share it—the three of us."

Castille shook Dugan by the shoulder.

"Do you hear that, Dugan? The water of life. It's good luck."

Dugan gave Cassandra a sorrowful nod. I waved at her before she slipped away.

"Cassandra, how's Isla?"

"Oh! Um... She's fine. Still unconscious. We've been drip-feeding her water to keep her hydrated. I'll check on her again. Soon."

I nodded.

"Thank you."

She flashed me a quick smile and walked a bit faster back to the bar.

She was nervous about something. My mind flashed to her and Ka-

"You love her, don't you?"

"What?!"

I turned to Arwen, who gave me a sly smile.

"That girl, Isla. You're sweet on her."

I furrowed my brows.

He already knew. There was no point in lying about it.

"I-I think so."

"Good. That's how it starts."

"How what starts?"

"You asked me why I do what I do. That's how. I look at people, and I see what's worth loving. I got so good at it; I could see it everywhere."

Arwen looked around. I followed his gaze.

Happy, smiling faces surrounded us.

"What do you see?" Arwen asked.

"Delusion. This isn't real life—reality is out there with the dead bodies."

Arwen laughed.

"Jacob, the smiles are real. Not everything needs to be doom and gloom. Lighten up! For me, these are the moments I love the most, and when you love something, you want to protect it."

This guy... I wanted to understand him, but where should I begin?

"Arwen, what does doing the right thing mean to you?"

He raised his eyebrows, sloshing around his mug of ale.

"Huh... Well, I would say acting in the best interest of the most amount of people."

He winced.

"But then you have to balance that with what's best for each person."

"Sounds hard."

"It's easier than you think. Lemme give you an example."

He scratched at the blonde peach fuzz sprouting from his chin.

"Your average miner is expendable. Before the Lagos brothers' shake-up, a few of us would keel over four months. When my friends and I created the council, we started to look out for each other. Fewer of us died, and we were able to mine more ore. With the extra money, we set aside funds for the sick and injured. Again, our production increased. You get the picture?"

"You got more done by working together. That's not a new idea, Arwen."

He smiled.

"You're a smart kid, Jacob, but not everyone is like you. They can't see past the coins in their pockets. They don't understand that helping the weakest of us also helps them."

I flashed him a bitter smile.

Where was he when I was a kid?

Arwen continued.

"Now, imagine if all of us expendable miners got together and looked out for each other. We wouldn't be so expendable then. We would be powerful. More powerful than the Lagos brothers... More powerful than the Vangraves."

I cocked my head and squinted at Arwen.

"A society without nobles… You want to do a second uprising—this time against the King instead of the Old Elven Empire."

"Shh! Keep it down. Things don't have to get violent."

"You think they're going to let you take over?"

"We'll ask… nicely, and if they don't do what we want…"

He turned his palms up.

"They don't get any ore."

I leaned back into my chair.

It was bold… and suicidal—another thing that ran in their family.

I sighed.

"I think I'm going to turn in early."

Arwen, Castille and Dugan looked at me.

"You alright, son? It's still light out."

"We have an early morning tomorrow."

Castille nodded.

"Let me know when Isla wakes up."

"Will do."

I made my way through the crowded dining room, glancing behind me when I reached the stairs. Orange beams of light streaked through the windows. It would be dark in an hour or so. I would have the whole night to digest my meal and Arwen's words.

I climbed the stairs, running through the conversation. Arwen was a strange man, with stranger ideas. He wanted a world where the prey united against their predators. It was unnatural… and insulting.

I had worked too hard to get to where I was—sacrificed too much to be the hunter and not the hunted.

Where would I fit in his world without predators?

I didn't know, but it would be interesting to find out.

I opened the door to our room.

And there was Isla.

Safe.

I should have been relieved, but the slight rises and falls of her chest filled me with unease.

Love.

Was there anything more terrifying? I was wrong about Arwen. He was stronger than me. He'd been stronger this whole time.

I stripped out of my jacket and lay it on the floor on the other side of the room—my bed for the evening. I unstrapped my sword belt and placed my cane next to my jacket. I lay down, stared at the ceiling and waited for sleep to take me.

# # #

Wake up…

I kept my eyes closed. Someone was in the room with us.

Dim lantern light shined through my eyelids.

"You can stop pretending."

That voice…

My eyes snapped open. I blinked, adjusting to the lantern light above me.

The person looming over me dipped down into a crouch. The fabric of their long, red skirt slithered against the hardwood floor.

My eyes adjusted.

An eyeless mask of red stocking stared back at me.

"Sin!"

I shuffled on my hands and legs, slamming the back of my shoulders against the wall.

She giggled.

"In the flesh."

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