Startup 82: Job Interview

Lamashan 2

Filli scratched her nose very carefully. The swarm of wasps crawling all over her body tickled a bit, but she’d been told in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t to kill them. Occasionally her skin itched a bit when they stung her, but she resisted the urge to scratch her skin off. She’d heal, of course, but that would just make her hungrier. They only stung her when she moved quickly, so it was best to just stay still.

I’ve gotten soft on the Enterprise. Only one day without food and I’m already fantasizing about what the captain will feed me when I get back.

“Let me out! Please! Let me out!”

Really? Another one?

There had been nearly ten people at the beginning of the trial, and now four of them had given up. Three of the girls and one of the two men. Sure, they were mostly a bit younger, but didn’t they know what to expect? Even Filli had been smart enough to ask Linu what the trials included. 24 hours of fasting in a small room with a hive of wasps and no water. Easy.

Mostly it was just very boring. Apparently she was supposed to meditate on the teachings of Callistria and pray, but Filli hadn’t ever been taught those and the gods had never answered her prayers.

She considered trying to bind something, since that was the most effective form of prayer she knew about, but most of the spirits she’d studied required either props or a tongue to summon, and she hadn’t managed a good pact with anything yet. Besides, she would probably need to scratch the seal into the wall or floor and she imagined that the temple wouldn’t appreciate that.

She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to sleep, so she’d erred on the side of caution. She couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t accidentally crush a few wasps and she wasn’t sure how seriously they took the “no killing rule.” That was probably how they’d try to disqualify her. The trial was far too easy otherwise.

At long last, the door into Filli’s cell opened. She looked up, head cocked, as the wasps flew out of the room and into a small box held by a senior initiate.

“You can come out now.” He said.

Outside she heard a half dozen men and women, mostly in their teens and early twenties, gasping out their relief. They were being terribly dramatic; Filli was glad the tedium was over as well, but falling to their knees and praising Callistria seemed a bit excessive even for religious initiates.

Filli stopped at the door, staring at the man who had called away the wasps. She was supposed to be transformed for the trials. Many of them required speech, supposedly, and she didn’t want the other initiates to see her. The initiate offered her a flask of something, which she eyed suspiciously.

“It’s not a trick.” He said, sighing, “It’s just the extract your captain paid for you to have during testing. The first trial is over.”

Filli weighed that statement in her head, and decided it was probably fine. It was possible he was lying, but past a certain point she’d just end up looking paranoid. They might even punish or disqualify her for not being compliant.

She downed the glass, and felt the warm liquid sensation as her body shrank a foot in height and nearly as much in width. She was disguised as a human, unfortunately. She needed to change her species for the magic work and the mid level mage assigned to her couldn’t reduce her mass by more than about twenty percent.

“Zank you.” She said quietly,

The young man watched with interest as she pulled on the extra large novice robe that fit her snugly in her transformed state. She’d needed to wear nothing but her underclothes during the first trial, but it had seemed unreasonable to ask for special robes when she was paying to be normal sized for most of the experience.

Filli padded down the hallway and joined the rest of the heavily breathing initiates. She towered over them, even the one man, and she couldn’t help but worry there was some sign of what she was peeking through. One of the girls looked up from a pattern of wasp stings on her arm to inspect Filli.

“Hey, I’m Margan,” one of them said, “You seem calm.”

Margan was a broad shouldered young woman, with ink black hair tied back in a tail and a blue cast to her skin.

“I am Filli.” Filli said, confused. “Vy vould I not be calm?”

She could tell she’d said something wrong. They all stared at her. Margan raised her eyebrows. Filli probably looked like an idiot, somehow. Had she missed something?

“You don’t have a mark on you.” One of them said quietly. “How?”

The others all had at least a few visible stings here and there on their exposed hands and faces, which made sense. They weren’t freaks with regeneration. Filli averted her eyes.

“It is nozzink.” She said.

The other trainees looked at one another, seeming to communicate something amongst themselves. Filli didn’t know what it was, but thankfully the proctor walked in to gather them for the next trial before she had to say anything else.

She was a tall priestess in the black and yellow plate favored by the sentinels, with a dagger and whip at her belt. She looked over the recruits with a cool gaze.

“So, you’ve survived the Trial of Intent.” She said, “Good. We do that one first to weed out anyone who lacks the will to walk their chosen path. I imagine you’re all very hungry right now. You can come with me to the next trial, or you can take a pause and eat lunch.”

A few of the trainees stood and angled their heads towards the sound of the dining hall. Filli wasn’t one of them. Margan raised her hand.

“Why would we go straight to the next trial with those options?” She asked, “Are we likely to run into something that makes us nauseous?”

“Oh, no.” The proctor said, flipping a long black ponytail over her shoulder, “You’d need to start the trials over with next week’s batch of hopefuls if you did that. But since you didn’t fail, you’d be allowed to repeat the Trial of Intent. I like to make the offer.”

Nobody was stupid enough to stop for lunch as they walked directly through the mess hall on their way to the arena. Margan snatched a roll from an unguarded plate in passing, however. No one seemed to object.

••••••••••

In a perfect world, I’d have trotted right from the courthouse to The Enterprise and left, but there was a lot of stuff I needed to square away first, ranging from relatively simple things like managing the giant pile of avant garde clothes Cabbage Black had sent me to a few substantially more pressing and important tasks. I’d needed to bring enough people to give every single one of the goblin pups piggy back rides to the Enterprise, for example. The chances of them running off on me if not physically restrained were shockingly high.

When I opened the door into their room they’d been halfway through the process of building something that looked like a box fort, and they demanded I carry it back to the ship with them. Rowe later identified it as an improvised mech in progress, probably intended to break through the walls and escape. It worked on Flintstones logic with each joint manually operated by a different goblin pup, but the magic known as goblintech meant that it was actually somewhat functional. I was both proud and terrified of the creatures I had invited onto my ship.

Best to keep them busy and keep a close eye on them. I really don’t want them punching holes in the hull.

I had to set them up in the Enterprise as well, because I was planning on leaving Gobron’s ship in Quent. Linu promised to try to find a buyer, but she’d made that promise with the distracted tone of someone who was already doing too much. My hopes weren’t high, given that a notorious bounty hunter probably still wanted it back and the fact that most people didn’t believe I’d acquired it legitimately.

Unfortunately, I just didn’t have enough crew to man two whole ships. Colin, Aaron, Narwhal, Lubo, and all of the cultists had been nearly a third of my crew put together, and a few more had decided to leave after seeing how exciting life on the Enterprise could be. Dierdre could have made up the difference using skeletons if I’d been willing to commit to keeping her as an orphne for the next few weeks, but that would have been hell on morale for multiple reasons.

My labor shortage was partially eased by a surprise: five people, four male goblins and a middle aged woman with a badly crooked nose, walked up to the enterprise and reported for duty. I didn’t recognize any of them, because the last time I’d seen them was before Heslandaena and they’d been in different bodies.

“What can I say, Cap’n.” One of the goblins said, “I shan’t pretend it was a pleasant experience, not to mention that I’d have preferred a different body, but not many captains have the means to bull someone back through the veil. Even fewer would bother for a new recruit.”

“We’re with you, Captain.” The woman said. “Besides, none of us were exactly happy with the lives we left.”

Less than half of the people I’d sent to Jerry had decided to seek me out again. I didn’t blame the rest; if I’d literally died on the job, I’d consider changing careers too. Even so, I could tell from the glint in their eyes that these five weren’t going anywhere. Given how much churn I’d been running into, that felt better than I might have expected.

“Well, you have excellent timing.” I told them, “We leave with the tide tomorrow morning. If you’ve got anything you need to do here in Quent, get to it. Also, you’d best be careful. I’ve lost contact with Jerry. If that’s the main reason you’re back, you might want to think about it. I’ll get you your back pay for the last month either way, though. You’ve certainly earned that much.”

Narwhal was alive, at least according to my menu, but too far away for me to get anything else about him. That meant Jerry was probably still functioning, but with my xebub dead I didn’t have any real way to contact him.

Jerry, please get back in contact. I didn’t realize how naked I’d feel without you in my pocket.

••••••••••

The initiates were led into a room with a few racks full of weapons, including many along the walls, and a large sandy area lined with people in yellow and black. They all stood casually, chatting among themselves.

Filli knew the format. She’d been used to train the house guards in small unit tactics plenty of times in places like this. She tensed up; those had been painful times.

She took a deep, calming breath. This wasn’t one of those times. She felt bad for whoever would be acting as the target, but it seemed that the temple shared that role more evenly. Perhaps the dozen people in the sandy area would take it in shifts.

“You seek to be Sentinels of Callistria, the very tip of the sting.” The proctor said, “All of you are, according to your files, at least competent in combat. You’ve faced bloodshed at least once and came away without flinching. To complete this trial, you must prove yourself able to handle a variety of threats. Once you enter that ring, you will need to last two minutes without leaving, submitting, attacking any Callistrians, or being pulled out. I don’t want corpses. Know your limits or I will drag you out and forbid access to these trials in the future. With that in mind, anyone care to leave now?”

Nobody did. Filli found it strange how often they were told they could leave. Of course they could. They were the ones trying to get in.

“Alright.” The proctor said, her smile cruel. “Who wants to attempt the Trial of the Sting first?”

The others all went very still at the same moment that Filli did. It would be smarter to wait and watch. Even going second would provide so much more information than walking in blind. Unfortunately, nobody was dumb enough to volunteer. The proctor’s smile grew as the seconds stretched out before them.

After a full day of boredom, not to mention the gnawing hunger, Filli just couldn’t bring herself to stand around any longer. She really had gotten soft. Just 26 hours without food and she was letting it affect her judgement.

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s fighting. Let them think I’m foolish. I can probably do this one, even if I have to do it blind.

“Fine.” She said, stepping forward. “I vill go.”

A loud rumble in her stomach punctuated her words. She felt every eye in the room on her as she stepped forward. She was glad the other trainees were looking at her back. Humans blushed so much when they were embarrassed.

She stepped into the ring, and to her mild surprise all the other robed people left to stand outside of the sand pit. Filli lowered her stance, listening. If there was something moving among the sands, she couldn’t hear it over the sounds of the mess hall.

“To the center, Miss Bestrat” The proctor called.

Filli’s blush deepened. She didn’t remember her surname, so she’d just written down something Emrys had said to her once. That she wasn’t just any rat, she was the best rat he knew. She didn’t know why that had come to mind, but she hadn’t even considered a surname until they asked. She panicked, and now she was committed.

“Remember, the only rules of engagement are that you can’t harm any temple personnel or leave the sandy area. Anything else goes. Three. Two. One. Go.”

The air in front of her seemed to twist around itself, and then a large, snarling dog formed from the air. It’s coat was a mess of clashing colors ranging from bright blue to black in a riot of spots. It slowly moved towards her, growling.

Filli eliminated the threat. She didn’t have claws at the moment and her opponent was quite small, so she went with a kick instead. The sweeping low kick caught the dog under its gut and sent it flying a dozen feet through the air and into one of the stone walls, where it dissolved into iridescent goo. Filli looked around for the rest of the enemies.

“Well fuck.” Said someone from among the crowd of spellcasters.

A few more twists appeared in the air. This time they resolved into a trio of small horses. They too had the patchwork appearance and unnatural colors.

Horses, ponies or not, weren’t really built for combat. They were larger than the dogs, but could only really hurt someone with a tackle or their hooves. Filli waited for one of the three to rear up, and grabbed it by its front legs in an iron grip. Then she twisted her body to ram the pony into its neighbor. Once she’d handled too, the last went down easily to a single punch to the face. Each of them dissolved into the colorful goo, then sank into the sand.

“Alright you little shit.” Filli heard in the silence that followed.

What did I do wrong?

The next creatures were different. Four skeletons. Humanoid, but unarmed. Each bone was a different color. This was especially easy. Filli had fought tons of skeletons for training; they were basically just unarmed elves.

They were a bit tougher, of course. Bones reinforced with magic could take most blows. It was probably for the best she didn’t have her claws; fists worked better on the dry bones in any case.

She took a few scratches as she barreled into the group, punching at joints and aiming low with her kicks. Skeletons were at least as strong as the humanoids they were made from, but they were very light. Very easy to knock over and trip. Once they were all down, she swapped over to stomping. She started with the skulls; it just felt right.

The bones, for whatever reason, were not unsummoned like the dogs and ponies. It took embarrassingly long, at least five seconds, for Filli to notice that the shattered bits of bone were skittering along the sand to reform each bone she had pounded. It didn’t help that the soft sand made shattering bone actually quite difficult. Mostly she was just burying the skeletons, and that didn’t seem to bother them when they rebuilt themselves and stood up again.

That was easy enough. She just started punting the skulls at the walls. They shattered much better that way, and even if the rest of the body reformed at her feet the body would crawl away in search of its head first.

The trial settled into a comfortable rhythm after that initial warmup. She’d manage the skeletons, and about once every twenty seconds something bigger would arise. Earth elementals, mostly, formed from the sand of the arena. They took a beating to unsummon but it was almost meditative, really.

Then, suddenly, she heard a whistle and the summoned monsters collapsed into swirls of sand and color. Filli was almost disappointed.

“You pass. Now exit the ring before you exhaust our summoners.”

The other trainees stared at Filli as she walked off the sand. She gingerly checked her robes, despairing when she realized that they were in tatters. She’d allowed far too many of the skeletons' attacks to get through when she realized that they barely hurt. Dovnu would have had her whipped and the injuries washed with acid if she had let her armor get into such a state.

She spent most of the next few trainees’ bouts fruitlessly trying to repair the shredded garment though wishes and the power of positive thinking, absolutely certain someone would yell at her any minute now.

Margan sat next to her, really more like behind her, with Filli directly blocking the proctor’s line of sight. She craned her head to watch each bout, most of which ended poorly. The other trainees fought far too defensively, letting their foes accumulate.

“They send something new every twenty seconds or so.” Margan said thoughtfully, “Or whenever there’s nothing left to fight.”

That’s what it was! I shouldn’t have killed so many so fast! I was just asking for them to escalate! I did the whole trial completely wrong! I’m just lucky they went easy on me and stopped escalating when they did.

Around that point, when Filli figured out what she did wrong, she turned her attention back to the arena. The one man left among them was floating far above the sand, near the ceiling, to stay out of reach of the summoned monsters. Filli had seen Emrys use a similar spell before.

Unfortunately, his cleverness ended at getting himself away from the floor. When a falcon snatched at his clothes and dragged his weightless body out of the arena, he didn’t have a plan to respond.

“Good attempt, Norville.” The proctor said, “Come back next month, or whenever you’re ready to face the wasps again. Tricks don’t mean much if you can’t follow up. If you’re only thinking one step ahead, that’s an excellent way to get yourself and others killed. Now, Margan, if you’d be so kind as to extract yourself from behind Filli’s skirts?”

As the male, Norville, walked out Filli looked around and realized that it was just her and Margan. That was strange. It wasn’t all that hard a trial, was it? Most of the other trainees hadn’t needed to fight the skeletons until nearly the two minute mark.

Margan somehow knew where the dog would be summoned, because she was bolting directly away from it and towards the wall of the arena before it was even finished forming. She snatched a whip and a long knife off the wall.

Oh right. I could have grabbed a weapon, too. That would have probably been wise, since I don’t have proper gauntlets or my claws. Stupid rat.

Margan’s mouth moved constantly, seeming to whisper something to herself as she fought. She almost seemed to be toying with the creatures, at least whenever she reduced their numbers to only one. Each time that a new creature was summoned, she darted in and killed the last survivor of the prior wave.

Her strategy started to break down once the skeletons arrived, but at that point she just started running. All the while, she was mumbling to herself. Counting. At the end of the trial she was backed into a corner with multiple injuries and a robe absolutely soaked in blood, but she succeeded. When the summons vanished, she collapsed to the sandy ground.

“Pass.” The proctor said, glancing around. “Two? Not much, but it’ll do.”

“They’re walk-ins, Morra.” Linu said from the door. “It’s a miracle I even have a job to do today.”

The tiny catfolk woman walked in wearing the striped top and black pants Filli first met her in, walking on tall spiked heels that clicked with each step. She glanced between Filli and Margan, her lips settling into a firm line.

“Was anyone going to heal that girl?” She asked, irritated. “Really. As if hardship were useful for the last trial. Filli, be a dear and help that woman get to the mess hall. I’ll find someone with available spells to patch her up and get you something quick. I want you both to think clearly.”

••••••••••

“You’re sure he’ll be alright?” I asked, “I really don’t think these are just normal bad dreams.”

“The dreams are normal,” the ancient man said, “Nightmares come to us all. It’s just that he doesn’t have the bulwark against them that most of us do. I’m not what I once was, but I think I can help a good man have a long rest.”

I looked at Aaron, who somehow looked more small and fragile than he did when he’d been a trapped rat on Bonewrack. I’d summoned a servant of Desna, a fairly benevolent goddess of dreams, for a consultation on his condition shortly after my chat with Naomi. She hadn’t been able to do much but stop his erratic thrashing, but that was a massive improvement.

That night, I’d had a vivid dream pointing me at a house in downtown Quent. Given that I have basic pattern recognition, I swung by and by the end of the hour we’d made preliminary arrangements. After only a couple hours, we were at the point of drop off.

“Is there any chance you could do more than watch over him?” I asked, “I’ve been told that won’t fix him. Just make him comfortable.”

The old man shook his head.

“I haven’t done magic like that in decades, but that’s not really the problem.” He said, “I suspect Desna would empower me one last time if you brought me the diamond dust I would need to manage a repair to his soul. I imagine I’d need a bowl about yea big full of the stuff to give it a good try.”

He held out his hands, forming a circle a bit larger than your average soup bowl. I knew that someone could do a partial job with less than that, but the point was made. I nodded.

“Thank you. Are you sure you don’t need more money to feed him?” I asked, “twenty gold doesn’t feel like much.”

“I might ask for more if he were going to be active.” The elderly priest said, “I don’t suspect he’ll be much trouble, however. What you paid should stretch for quite some time.”

“Thank you.” I said, “If there’s anything I can do…”

The old man held up a hand.

“My lady thinks you deserve a lucky break.” He said. “I can’t say I know exactly why, but the fact you’re so worried about this fellow gives me a few hints. I’m just helping a fellow traveler. I’ve precious little else to do these days.”

I took a deep breath, and nodded.

“I’ll send someone to check on him occasionally.” I said, "Probably a lantern archon. I hope that’s ok.”

He smiled, and after I worked through a few more excuses to not leave Aaron alone just yet, I left the elderly retiree’s house. There, I found Sosima and Naomi walking up and down the street. I noted with interest that, for the first time I’d ever seen them together, Naomi wasn’t trailing after Sosima. They were walking together, and walking straight towards me when they saw me.

Naomi had apparently gotten her hair styled in the last day, tying her already curly hair into much tighter curls. She had new clothes, including a leather holster for the goblin handgun she’d taken from the armory.

“Where’s Aaron?” Naomi asked, not even pretending to care about politeness. “I was told you brought him here.”

“He’s just inside.” I said. “Best I can do for now. I think the man I’ve hired would be willing to answer any questions you have. I doubt he’s settled yet.”

Naomi looked at me for a long moment, then nodded and walked past.

A thank you or apology would have been nice. Ah well. I know where her loyalty lies when the chips are down; that’s enough for me.

“Emrys.” Sosima said, interrupting my train of thought. “Come with me. There are things we must do while there is still time.”

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

“What would those be, Sima?”

She pursed her lips, looking me up and down.

“The last time your hair was properly styled was in Port Peril.” She said, “You’ve destroyed more than half of the outfits I’ve seen you wear by exposing them to conditions they were not designed to manage. I intend to address both of those issues before we set sail, and a few others as well.”

As she spoke, Sosima ran her eyes across my body. It wasn’t the typical appreciation I’d come to expect from her, either. She was sizing me up.

“I don’t really have the money for a proper wardrobe, not at the prices you quoted me last time we had this conversation.”

“Bah.” Sosima said, "I'll manage it. I’m recently flush with cash; that gnomish artificer Syl found was only willing to give me fifty gold pieces to examine my earrings. Unfortunately he believes he’d need to disassemble them to reproduce the effect.”

Well that’s unfortunate. Fifty gold isn’t much next to the twenty thousand he offered to get the earrings for himself.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” I said. “It’s fine, I know how much those earrings mean to you.”

“Obviously. That’s why you didn’t do so.” Sosima said, flicking her hand dismissively. “Now then, is there anything you’d like to eat first? I will cover any reasonable expense.”

“Well, we’d better knock this out today.” I said, “We need to get ready to sail once Filli finishes her tests.”

I took Sosima by the arm, as always feeling slightly silly since she was a few inches taller than me, and we left together. I really did need a haircut.

Nothing too short. Just even it out a bit.

••••••••••

Twenty minutes, a flash of amber light, a potion to top off Filli’s transformation, and two bowls of chowder later, Linu escorted Margan and Filli to a small, candle lit chamber. There, she pulled three interlocking chairs out of a closet and set them into a triangle shape at the center of the room.

“You’ve proven yourselves worthy of our sentinel trainers’ time.” She said, “Congratulations on making it into the second ring of the temple. I would not suggest rushing to the next set of trials at this time. One of you might die and the other certainly would.”

Filli tensed at that.

I wonder which is which? It’s probably more complicated than just punching things.

“Miss?” Margan said, “You make it sound like we are already in. Isn’t there another trial?”

Linu held up a hand in a dismissive wave.

“Yes, but I’ve rarely seen someone fail it, and I don’t expect to today.” She said, “The Trial of Past and Future is important, but not a filter the way the others are. You will be asked two questions and need to give answers. These answers will be logged and may have mild effects on temple policy. You’re one of us now, so your stances on certain subjects matter.”

Filli froze, clutching her knees so hard her knuckles went white.

“Vat questions?”

Is it some kind of quiz? There are so many things I don’t know.

“Who hurt you most.” Linu said softly, “In all your life, there is someone who hurt you most. You must identify them, and then say what you intend to do about it. That is the way of the Savored Sting. Who would like to go first?”

The two girls sat in silence for a few moments. Filli heard Margan’s rueful chuckle, but barely processed her words. Something about being promised the world, swept away from her home, and eventually dropped off unceremoniously in a Shackles Port.

“I figure I’ll need to leave him high and dry at some point.” She said, “Someday I’ll track him down, get him drunk, and toss him into someone’s hold. With any luck he’ll be a day out to sea before he wakes up.”

All very clear, said with complete confidence. Margan had been prepared for this trial.

How could Filli possibly choose? The possibilities were endless. A hundred faces swirled through her mind, from Varossa’s rueful chuckle to a dark blue face she pushed away as quickly as it appeared. Filli’s nails, the tiny stubby things she’d been left with in this form, dug into her knees deep enough to draw out beads of blood.

“Filli.” Linu said, with the tone of one who was repeating herself. “Look at me.”

Filli did, trying so hard to breathe. Margan looked over at her, probably realizing how stupid she was.

One of Linu’s hands reached out and gently laid upon Filli’s, and the other twitched directly in front of her.

“Your answer does not need to be perfect.” She signed, “It must be true. I will give you as long as you need. Breathe.”

Linu’s soft hand brought Filli a few steps closer to reality, enough to breathe. Enough to focus, and try to attack the question like the enemy it was. She faced each thought and struck them down even as the claws raked across her mind.

Her first thought, so tempting as an escape, was Varossa. She was the enemy at hand. She’d hurt Emrys and Aaron and that dwarf. Filli had ample reason to hate her, but calling her the one that hurt Filli most was laughable. She’d been pounded into goo already.

Dovnu also presented herself as an easy target, but Filli didn’t really have much to complain about there. She’d never return to house D’Lann willingly, but nothing about Dovnu’s treatment was unique to her. Filli doubted that Dovnu thought enough about the mutants to do anything other than what House L’Rath suggested to control them.

The slavers that had invaded her warren were nothing but shadows in the mind of a four year old. She didn’t know who they were. She couldn’t picture their faces. She couldn’t hate them, not as people. She couldn’t hope to seek vengeance on slavery itself, that would sound stupid.

House L’Rath in general felt closer. They had made her. They had destroyed a child and made a monster. A face rose unbidden, blue and smiling. Filli wanted to push it away again, before she heard the words.

“You’re such a clever girl. I’m sure you’ll take to the treatments marvelously. Once you’re a sorceress, how about you come home with me? We always have room for a clever girl, especially one brave enough to ask questions.”

She’d patted Filli on the head, explained exactly what they were going to do and why. Painted a picture where a clever little girl figured out how to manage the demonic essence they’d infused into her arm and channel it outward. She’d get magic, and beauty, and a new family, because she was smart and special and that researcher had noticed her and talked to her.

She’d held onto that hope for a long time before she realized she wasn’t a clever girl. She was just a big, stupid, ugly rat. She’d seen Kondra a few times after the treatments started, and she’d always been assured that things would turn around soon. She just needed to keep trying. She had survived, that was better than most. Magic would come any day now.

For a moment, Filli was in that cell again, realizing what she was. She dragged herself back to the present, back to the Trial.

“Kondra L’Rath.” Filli choked out in Undercommon. “She hurt me; she lied.”

Linu stroked Filli’s hand, gentle and constant. Margan averted her eyes, unwilling to look at Filli.

“And what do you intend to do about it?” She said, “What punishment fits her crimes?”

Filli didn’t know. Some part of her wanted to find out what Kondra wanted most in life and then give it to her in the worst way imaginable. That felt selfish, though, and impractical. So much effort, to hurt only one woman.

For every person like Filli, a surviving failure to be sold as salvage, there were dozens that didn’t live through the week. All children that Filli hadn’t even thought of in years, who had been her friends at an age where proximity was enough to declare someone a best friend. She’d watched one girl who’d thought Filli’s hair was pretty die within minutes of being implanted. Filli had still been waiting in line for her own procedure.

Filli took a long deep breath, and decided what to answer. It took minutes for the right words to crystallize, and another to compose herself enough to translate them into surface Common.

“I vill burn House L’Rath to ze ground.” She said, “Ven I can, I will grind ze stones to powder and strike its name from ze records. Zey vill not recognize me. Zey vill not know vy I hate zem. I vill not tell zem. Zey do not deserve to know vy if zey can not guess.”

Margan stared at Filli, scooting back from the intensity in her voice. Linu only nodded.

“We will start a file on them for you.”