Honor had expected tunnels and caves and dank rooms fit to fight in. What she'd found was swept stone floors, straight hallways, lighting, and waves from city guards, kobolds, and catkin that seemed focused on something entirely unrelated to her little "delve."

  "And down here are the wyvern pens. They prefer a bit of darkness, so we don't have as many mana lights down here." Ludmiller felt uncomfortable in the presence of two guards who had spent their whole time glaring at her. She couldn't blame them. After all, she'd done a little research on what she'd become, and in dragon dungeons, a dragon assassin was considered a threat on par with a dungeon boss.

  When she saw them, Honor felt herself tense. These were creatures that looked as wild as a dungeon's monsters should be. The wyverns all rushed to the front of the steel pen, crashing into the high wall and reaching their claws through the gaps. Normally, in a dungeon, the gate would open and adventurers would have a tough fight on their hands. Instead, when Wild opened the gate, he was pounced on by half the wyverns, their tails wagging with excitement.

  From his position on the ground, Wild laughed and tried to pet as many wyvern snouts as he could while they did their best to lick his face. "Why are you all so worked up?"

  Two of the wyverns, bigger than the others, looked directly at Honor. She lacked her usual weapons, a rifle and pistol, and instead was pushed back by her guards. "Wait." Something in the eyes of the wyverns held her own gaze. It was a challenge and an invitation.

  Stewart had told her to trust Travis, and now Honor chose to take the biggest step in that direction. "Stand down," she told her guards and walked toward those deadly monsters. When she was well within a wyvern's reach, neither of them so much as flinched.

  When the woman stretched a hand toward him, Snarl curled up his top lip and leaned toward it. Inhaling, he could smell power in the woman. When his dungeon encouraged him, he leaned his head lower and pressed the rough crown of his head against her palm. The truth was, he had seen the bond his sister, Ripper, had with a human. He wanted that. He wanted someone who would ride him and go flying with him.

  "You seem to have a friend," Travis said, doing his best to hold back a laugh as the second wyvern shoved the first aside to get her share of petting. "Err, friends."

  It was, Honor had to admit, the singularly oddest experience of her life. She had to double-down and use both hands because neither wyvern seemed content to share one. "They're tame? Uh, friendly…" She said it with a measure of surprise, but mostly wonder. Slathering beasts that she knew would rip a person limb from limb, and they were more excited—wagging their tails even—to get her attention. "You said something about a class, too?"

  "You have some choices there, but I think you should take Priest. At least until you get Inspire Courage. If you change from one class to another, you keep the skills you had from your other class. Or classes, if you plan to go further with this. Oh, one other thing. We're working on researching Ranger next. That should be a solid boost to your skills with a gun."

  Trying to fend off a wyvern that had decided her face needed licking took a moment, and when she finally divested herself of that particular show of attention, Honor wasn't sure she'd actually accomplished anything so much as the wyvern had gotten what it wanted. "I have a lot more questions, at least one being why your wyverns' breath smells like mushroom soup, but I have a meeting soon and I'll need to clean up for it."

  "Okay, guys, go easy on her. She needs to be in a meeting soon. Try to be a bit chill and she might even take you flying later." Travis was relieved that the two wyverns seemed to calm down, though Honor got another big lick across her face.

  Leaving her guides behind and letting Travis give her directions back out of the dungeon, Honor felt a little strange about having a pair of wyverns flanking her—but mostly because it felt normal. One, seemed far more energetic and kept trying to rush ahead, only to wait for her to catch up. She found her interest piqued when a dragon warrior coming the other way turned just after coming down the stairs. The door they opened let loose some loud cheering from within. "What's that area?"

  Travis laughed and explained. "That's our more secluded bar. Fife's having a break right now, and there's a gnoll in there with her challenging her to a drinking contest. By the look of it, they're both winning."

  "A gnoll? Was that a former person like—?"

  "Nah. A new dungeon opened in Northridge after the undead one got killed in a border skirmish. The gnolls are cautious, but they're slowly warming up to being part of our weird community up here. Raze, the gnoll Fife is drinking with, helped us deal with the goblin dungeon we'd had to destroy."

  Wincing, Honor asked, "What type of goblins?"

  "Rot."

  The wince turned to a shudder. "You had some way of dealing with their clouds? What type of dungeon boss was it?"

  "Hobgoblin boss. Fife said it was a caster and used a lot of fungal attacks. Katelyn was amazing with all the fighting in there, even if she was never trained in combat magic. Fire wizard."

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  "Just one? She'd have to be an exceptional fire wizard."

  "She was a wizard already, but when she joined, her talent for fire increased. I think I remember someone calling her a 'draconic pyroclast'."

  That wasn't a term Honor was familiar with, but given how expressive delvers were with their names for monsters, it didn't surprise her now at all. "The groups I've seen that tackle Rot dungeons do so with at least a pair to allow for downtime. Usually with a priest who has some mana-enhancing spells. Relaxing your guard for just a minute can see a party waking up on an altar before they know it. Or, worse, not waking up on an altar. There are stories of people found in Rot dungeons, still alive." It was one thing that always turned Honor's stomach to think of. She wanted to get away from that thought, and as an adventurer herself, the best way she could think was to confront it. "Sergeant?" she asked her guards.

  "Ma'am?"

  "Could one of you go and let the council know I have… urgent business to attend to in the dungeon, and will not be free until tomorrow?" She caught the moment both very nearly broke into laughter, barely catching themselves before making a misstep.

  "Will do, ma'am. Shall I return after completing this mission?"

  Honor thought, at first, that he would want to return to imbibe some drinks, but then she remembered the oaths of the King's Guard. "I would appreciate it." Turning at the doorway, Honor reached out when it jerked open before she could touch it.

  "Trav said you wanted to relax?" Katelyn asked. In truth, she wanted to as well, and having a few drinks with Fife was a good way to do that. "If so, come on in."

  "Uh, Katelyn?" Honor asked, the burning staff was a good tell that the kobold was the pyroclast Travis had mentioned. When Katelyn paused and looked back at her, Honor smiled. "I heard you were holding back a hobgoblin's rot spells."

  "Well, at first. I'd fill a whole area with flames and then Fife would march in with some kind of healing magic keeping her safe, and she'd beat down anything that spread disease first." Leading the way, and finding it cathartic to actually discuss what she'd done, Katelyn led Honor to the bar where Breath of Spring and Skald were talking.

  The two wyverns scurrying in and immediately starting a fight with a table in the back corner drew no comments from those within.

  Slipping behind the bar, Katelyn fetched herself a mug and gave Honor a pointed look. "Thirsty?"

  "An ale with a half-measure of whatever spirit you have that's strong." Honor looked at her guard, but he shook his head in a predictable show of duty. She turned her attention back to Katelyn. "Something non-alcoholic for the sergeant."

  Adding another two mugs, as well as Breath of Spring's mug and a metal cup from Skald, Katelyn poured two mugs of ale, two mugs of thick red vegetable juice, and into Skald's cup she poured a thick brown liquid that looked like bone broth. She finished up by adding some heat to the metal cup until there was a meaty steam drifting from it.

  Before taking a sip of his hot broth, Skald slipped off his seat and walked over to the table where Raze and Fife were, currently, arm-wrestling.

  Seeing her mate approach, Raze picked up her mug and, though it was still half full, drained it. She watched Fife do the same and grunted in acknowledgment. Neither of their linked forearms moved, and neither of them let up. "How'd something so small get so strong?"

  "By drinking plenty of ale and punching everything I can find." Leaning into the wall of muscle that was Raze's right arm, Fife felt little give and offered none herself. When Skald brought over fresh mugs of ale for both of them, she smiled at him and nodded.

  Back at the bar, Katelyn settled onto a stool that put her at roughly the same height as Honor. "To tell you the truth, it was enjoyable. I've never let my magic flow as freely and in such quantity before. Even when I used to channel to make explosive runes, I didn't move as much mana around. I was a researcher, you know? Delicate work. Was never one for flashy displays of fire." Holding her palm up, Katelyn made flames dance about, flicking them from finger to finger and making a rose of blue that sat in the air and trembled with the need to break free of her control.

  Honor thought about it, took a pull of her own ale, and nodded. "Dungeons have a way of changing you. As an adventurer, you have a lot of hard lessons to learn in a very short amount of time. Death needs to be fast and painless, with no regrets. Killing just needs to be fast."

  "We took it slower, mostly. But you have to remember, we had the stamina and mana to wear them down." Katelyn flicked at the rose and made it grow a stem that bore white-hot little thorns. "Then we got to the last run, when we finished it off. Astrid, her pack, and Raze went berserk and charged through. The wolves have more than a little dragon in them now, and can clear weaker rot with fire breath.

  "When we caught up to them in the final boss room, half of them were down and Raze was killed by the troll she slew."

  Clearing his throat, Skald gestured reverently to Breath of Spring. "Then this lovely lady breathed new life into mighty Raze, freeing her from death's grip to battle again." He carefully captured Breath of Spring's hand and brought her fingers to his lips to kiss them—then ruined it by chuckling with glee at her blush.

  "Stop that," Breath of Spring said over her mug of juice. It wasn't the first time, and probably wouldn't be the last. "I keep telling you, it was my honor to return Raze to the fight. It's where her talents can encourage the most growth."

  Skald nodded to that and let out a barking laugh. "I love watching her fight. She inspires me to tell of her tales with every swing of her arm. It's breathtaking."

  "I win!" Fife jumped to her feet, destroying the poor stool she'd been sitting on and rescuing her mug from the table as it too let out a splitting-wood sound as, like Raze, it was defeated.

  Having missed catching her own drink, Raze was left barking in laughter as she got to her feet. Turning to the bar, she marched over and dipped her head to Katelyn. "Goddess of Fire and Flame, the little dragon spilled my drink…"

  It was Katelyn's turn to blush as she took the empty mug from Raze. She filled it back up and passed it to its owner. "Dungeon Slayer, your ale."

  Her own title acknowledged, Raze stood a little straighter and took the mug with a nod. Turning, she glared at Fife. "Little dragon, prepare to be beaten again!"

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