Staffen was annoying.

Not annoying in the somewhat amusing way that Azvalath's comrades were, but in a way that made Azvalath want to leave the room before he punched someone in the face. It took everything he had to force a chuckle at the young man's remark that someone of Azvalath's status ought to have bigger jobs than delivering quarterly reports.

"Who's to say it's not a big job to maintain the transparency agreement?" Azvalath took the empty chair. "I mean, we like having food and all."

"Sure you do." Staffen leaned back and folded his arms. "Though that report can't possibly be anything interesting, like you said. The past few months have been quiet, right? Except for your new little ride-along. Tell me about her, why don't you?"

He searched around the crowded room to see if he could spot Kolo. It relieved him somewhat when he managed to pick out her voice. She was always too loud. Azvalath sighed. "It hasn't been quiet in the slightest. Kolo's a big deal. Anyone new is a big deal." He managed to catch a glimpse of her white hair through the sea of people. "Sorry if she gave you trouble earlier. Seems to be her obsession."

A cold draft swept through the room. Azvalath turned his head and saw the door swing open. Mr. Nack yelled something about shutting the door behind oneself being common courtesy, then slammed it shut again.

Staffen took a sip from his mug. "Say, Azvalath, do you believe in ghosts?"

Azvalath shrugged. "Can't say I think about it all that often. Anyhow, can you pass this message along on my behalf?"

"Gladly." Staffen took the envelope. "We'll review it at our next meeting. Good grief, I wish I had something more interesting to do than go to meetings and hear the older folks argue all day. Really gets dull."

"Careful what you wish for." Azvalath rocked his chair. He took a deep breath, smelled something foul, and wrinkled his nose. The warrior turned his head to see a little girl, barely older than a toddler, dragging a backpack with a broken strap toward their table. She had ratty reddish hair and sunken-in eyes. Her cheeks were red and raw, either from windburn or crying. His eyebrows rose. "Hey, little miss. Can I help you?"

The girl sniffled and wiped her nose.

Azvalath beckoned her closer. "What's your name?"

The child looked down and spoke in a voice that was barely audible. "Wren."

"All right, Wren." Azvalath got down from his chair and crouched on the floor in front of her. The awful smell intensified. She must not have bathed in months. "Let's go and find your parents."

"Don't need to." She rubbed her eyes. "Papa's here."

"Where's your papa?" Azvalath tried to keep his voice gentle and hide his revulsion at her stench.

Wren looked at the backpack she was dragging.

"Need help carrying that?" he asked.

"No." She bent down and opened the backpack. "Papa's in here."

Azvalath's eyes shot wide open when he saw what was inside. Staffen screamed at the top of his lungs and then fainted. The young councilman crumpled from his chair with a heavy thud.

The little girl took the decaying severed head and held it up to show Azvalath.

"I thought I knew you from somewhere, sabretooth devil." A woman – the woman from the riverbank – stormed through the shocked onlookers and stopped to glare down at Azvalath. "You murdered this little fledgeling's papa. Recognize him at all?"

Azvalath stood up. If only he had his sword, then no one would dare give him trouble. But he didn't, so he took a deep breath and tried to speak at least somewhat calmly. "I don't recognize him. I doubt I was even the one that killed him."

Staffen groaned. He was coming back to his senses. "What...?"

"And why should I believe you didn't kill him when you killed a fifth of my village?" The woman's face twisted with hideous rage.

"I didn't behead anyone." Azvalath crossed his arms. "Did you hack that off a corpse I left behind? I thought you were at least civil enough to bury your dead."

The woman growled at him. "Seven orphaned children and all you have to say to them is that you didn't behead anyone. That we're not civil. You're missing the point, Sabretooth."

"My name is Azvalath." He caught himself starting to sweat and glanced around frantically in search of Kolo.

Slowly, the children began to emerge from the shocked crowd. They were all little, no older than ten, all smeared in dirt and and tears and frostbite. They gathered around the woman. She put her hands on two little boys' heads and spat at Azvalath. "Look at these faces. All of them. Tell them they deserved to lose their parents."

"They didn't." Azvalath avoided their gaze. "But they had to. We needed Kolo and they were in the way."

The woman shook her head, speechless.

Behind Azvalath, Staffen pulled the letter from its envelope and unfolded it in shaky hands. "For his vicious abuses of power, Azvalath has been disciplined and demoted to the level of a new student. He has lost all commanding authority and the right to carry a weapon without our express consent."

Azvalath nearly choked on his own spit. "Don't read that out loud here!"

"Is it true?" The young councilman sounded distraught.

The dishonored warrior ignored him and commanded the woman in front of him. "Now back off."

The woman took a step back, turned to the door that was hanging half-open, and whistled. "Ashcrow! Dinner!"

Wren looked up at Azvalath and smiled in a way that made his skin crawl.

Then, in a splintering storm, the woman's nack crashed through the door, snapping it off its hinges. People screamed and rushed out, tripping over each other as they fought to escape. The horselike predator chased nearly everyone out before swinging its head around to find Azvalath.

"Yes, Ashcrow." The woman pointed to Azvalath. "Him. Dinner."

The cruel jaws were already salivating for his blood when they lunged forward to grab him. He jerked away and ended up stumbling backwards into the table. The legs broke beneath his weight and sent him crashing to the floor. "Staffen, get out of here!" He smacked the still-dazed councilman. "Now!"

The nack snatched him by the upper arm. Its sharp teeth dug deep into his flesh as it yanked him up off the floor. Azvalath punched the animal's nose and yelled. Its bite only tightened. The teeth punctured his arm deeper and deeper the more he struggled, until finally a heavy spurt of bright red blood erupted. The sight made him panic. How would he get out of this alive if he didn't have...?

BOOM! A fist with all a god's strength hit the nack near the base of its neck. The beast's jaws shot wide open in an agonized scream, releasing Azvalath.

He crumpled to his knees and hunched over with his injured arm clutched tight in a trembling hand. Blood gushed between his fingers. He heard the woman shout curses, then footsteps pounding as people fled and the nack crumpled in a heap.

Kolo looked down at him.

"Kolo?" He fought to catch his breath. "Did you...?"

Without a word, she extended her hand.

Azvalath extended his too, but with how faint he was already, he never quite managed to reach her before he folded to the floor in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. He wanted to get back up, but his body was too heavy to move. His eyes rolled and his vision darkened. It reminded him of Xigon meddling with his heart.

The dishonored warrior whispered his master's name and shed a tear. Whatever happened next, he didn't remember. How they made it back to the mountain lift was beyond him.

What he did remember in unfortunate detail was the greeting of one of his least favorite people in all the world.

"Of all the people you could be cryin' for, Aza. Really?" A strange earthy-smelling hand yanked his eyelids open. "Yeah, look at me, look real' close. You know me. We've met."

Azvalath groaned. "Ami...?"

Ami groaned back at him. "You really do groan an awful lot."

Azvalath sat up and felt lightheaded. "What are you talking about?"

"Uggghhh." Ami exaggerated the sound. "Magpie, could you bring us up any faster?"

"Working on it. We're almost there." An unfamiliar woman hoisted the lift up a few more feet. "Why don't you help me, Kolo?"

"I am!" Kolo's shout could probably be heard for miles. "With all my hands!"

Azvalath felt nauseous and had to lie back down. "Anyone going to tell me what happened?"

"Somebody knows how to start a ruckus." Ami cracked her knuckles. "But Kolo saved your skin. Well, most of it. Your arm's a mess. Don't know if you'll get to keep it."

"Don't be dramatic." Magpie yanked the ropes.

"Not dramatic. Honest." Ami picked up Azvalath's injured arm. "You've been conscious most of the time, by the way. I gave you a hefty dose of pain medicine, though, so you're probably a little foggy in the head. Didn't want you screamin' when I put a tourniquet on you."

That explained why nothing hurt. He barely remembered the nack bite happening, even though his body was weak and heavy.

Eventually, the lift ground to a halt. A lightningfisher wailed long and loud. Yayaba. It had been a while since Azvalath had heard her call. He couldn't help but wonder where she had been all this time.

"Are you coming with us?" Kolo asked Ami and Magpie.

"No, they're not." Azvalath sat up and rubbed his head. Some pain was starting to reinvade his injured arm. "Meaning no offense."

"None taken." Ami offered her arm. "We weren't planning on sticking around anyway. We've got places to be, but we're at least getting you off the lift. Up you go."

She grabbed his uninjured arm and hoisted him up. He stumbled a step toward her. "Hey, what are you...?"

Before he could finish the sentence, Ami pulled Azvalath into a tight, uncomfortable embrace. "Nice to see you again, kid. Go get yourself fixed up." She spoke sweetly as she sniffed him.

"Now let me go." Azvalath's voice cracked with the command. When Ami released him, he staggered off the lift and onto the stairs that led to Styzia's roof entrance. Kolo waved to Ami and Magpie before getting off with him.

As the lift sank back down, Kolo gave Azvalath a strange look. "Did she just smell you?"

"Ami has a nose like a scent hound." He scratched himself, suddenly feeling as if bugs were crawling all over him.

"What's wrong with her, anyway?" Kolo asked.

"A whole lot." Azvalath looked down at his feet. "The masters won't tell me what happened, but Ami isn't allowed into our order." He took a few unsteady steps. "There must be a damn good reason."

"Um...Aza?" Kolo looked at him with wide eyes. "Your arm, it's..."

Azvalath looked down and saw dark tendrils of fungus worming their way through his mangled arm. The crawling sensation under his skin intensified. He fell to his knees, clawed at himself, and vomited.

[20] Azvalath: Wee Rotting Wren

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