“No thanks.”

  “I didn’t even tell you what it would be! I’m looking for some people to form a new–” I began.

  “Don’t care.” Lockso took a suspicious sip of his drink, then grunted in what I assumed was approval.

  “The pay would be in dungeon runs.” His eyes swung back to my own as I said this, but his blank expression didn’t waver. I liked this idea as I would, in fact, make a profit via the automatic taxation on dungeon floors being cleared, two birds, one greedy dragon.

  “What’s it involve?”

  “Just keeping down the local monster population, guarding the roads, simple stuff in between runs to contribute to the Mill.” Nimbra seemed sensible and was a devotee of captain-glowing-spectacles, which made me feel she was at least somewhat trustworthy, although possibly also possessing some odd bedroom interests. Hand was an ass, but he didn’t seem bright enough to rob me, while still being bright enough to know what would happen to him if he tried it.

  This moody outremonde that led them seemed like exactly the kind of person I wanted chasing down bandits and highwaymen as trade and traffic increased in my small town.

  “How many runs?” His failure to jabber on or try to beg for favours was just a bonus.

  “Two a month?” I offered. That would leave me about eight to auction each lunar cycle, as it took a couple of days for the monsters to respawn. Six hundred gold a month, or the equivalent of it, was a generous salary. My greed-demon perked up, slipped away from the lust-monkey who was… distracted, and attacked the core of my being. I fought it down through sheer willpower and a firm reminder that I’d actually be making money off the salary, just not as much as I might.

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, as in ‘yes Bob, I’ll take the job’ or yeah as in ‘no thanks’?” His flat tone made it impossible to tell.

  “We’ll do it. Six months only.”

  “Fantastic.” I pulled the cyber-bunny control stone from my pocket and scanned through the bunnies until I found the one I wanted. Simeon had gone into full production, the bunnies loose on the old agricultural floor provided him a steady supply of raw materials, and my army now numbered a couple of hundred cyborgs. They were mostly used as guards at key locations in the town and to secure the dungeon, having been convinced by both Kat and Esme that they would not be appreciated by the general populace.

  Jacko-bunny had earned them some kudos among the locals, but the many travellers, especially the adventurer teams, found them extremely unsettling. I found the one I wanted and reached out to occupy its body.

  “Kat.”

  “Tribulations Smokey Doom, Bob!” She had jumped as the thing spoke with my voice and disturbed her tiny desk and chair made from small piles of my shinies, a habit of hers that I found annoying but tolerated as long as she didn’t move them too far from the hoard. She straightened the miniature paperwork she’d knocked askew as she sat back down and disappeared her tiny quill into her tinier maid's outfit.

  “Three adventurers, Lockso, Nimbra, and Hand; when are they running the dungeon?” From the cyborg's senses, my hoard looked beautiful, but the stunted sense of smell robbed me of the true grandeur of my money-pile. I had already learned that snuggling atop the hoard as a robo-rabbit was pure disappointment.

  “Hmm.” She leafed through some stamp-sized documents and then held one up. “I think I remember the team name… The Fighting Dophins? Yes, that’s the one. Nimbra, an Illuminated Innerlocutor. Handock is a Meatshield Healmeplease. Lockso… You sure about this?” She looked up at the robot and slid her glasses up her nose.

  “Why? What is he?”

  “He’s a Shifty Bastard.”

  “He seems a bit quiet. And abrupt when he does bother to open his mouth.”

  “That’s his class, Bob. It’s a thief-fighter hybrid.” A thief? Hmm.

  “You’ll be keeping tabs on him while he’s in the dungeon with the mirror? Not just using it for your makeup this time.”

  “Sure. Simeon thinks he’s figured out popcorn, so the next few runs should be fun.”

  “Bump them up the list. I’m whitelisting them for non-sensitive locations in the dungeon with the bunnies. They get two runs a month for… free.” I managed to say the word without cursing, but that little bastard in my head was throwing a fit. Kat raised an eyebrow at me questioningly. “I’m retaining them as road guards for six months. Paid in runs.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Interesting. Ok, I can bump them up to… six days away, but you’ll piss off the Bounding Scoundrels. They’d already been told about the date of their run.”

  “Do it. Gotta go, bye!” I cut the connection and focused on my surroundings again.

  “You can do your first run in six days. After that, we’ll fit you in around your patrols. Sounds good?” I asked with a smile. The man merely grunted and took another sip of my very expensive whiskey. “Ok, that’s great. Welcome to the team!”

  I collected my own glass and returned to my table.

  “You guys need to have a word with your boss, if you can get one out of him. You’ll be getting enough dungeon runs to boost you up the levels pretty fast, I think,” I said as I resumed my seat.

  “Really? Oh wow! Working with the Chosen of the Light!” Nimbra enthused.

  “Working for.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry boss. Still sounds amazing!”

  “The bunnies will let you come and go from the dungeon now. Feel free to have a look around. By a souvenir, or experience the joys of Gledna’s cookery. The unnamed dungeon thanks you for your custom.” I’d heard Pedro’s welcome speech so many times I could repeat it verbatim.

  “Thank you, sir. Now about that eating competition…” Hand offered.

  “Nope. I’m going to finish my drink–” I drained my glass, “–say goodbye to Esme, and be off to the city. Kat will keep an eye on you in the dungeon.”

  I left them and popped my head into the kitchen, ducked under a wooden spoon that sailed through where my head had been, and glared at Jenny.

  “Sorry, Bob. Sometimes customers get antsy when there’s a big order on!” she called as she moved baking trays around within an oven with one hand while stirring a sauce with the other.

  “You’re off then?” Esme swayed towards me and planted a kiss on my lips. “You behave in the big city! Remember the list I gave you!” She winked, and the lust-monkey got my greed in a headlock and started punching it in the face.

  “I’m always good.” I shrugged. It was mostly true. “See you soon!”

  I pulled one portal through to the kitchen, earning a shout of annoyance from Jenny as she had to detour around it, and dropped the other in the courtyard outside the Long Horn in Ankmapak. Then I sent both back to my lair and put the control gem in my storage space.

  “Seb! You traitorous little shit! Where are you?” I yelled, earning annoyed looks from a couple heading into the pub.

  Frantic banging echoed out from the stable as boards were hurriedly nailed to the doors.

  “That still won’t stop me. I’m not here to settle grudges. Need you to let Phillpot know I’ve got some gear for him. And your other employer can make arrangements to collect their next delivery if they like.”

  “You’re not out for revenge?” The grown man with an attitude sounding like a scared little kid kicked me in the emotional balls. Then I remembered what an obnoxious, drunken little bastard he was and felt better about myself.

  “Not this time,” I growled, unable to resist the opportunity to mess with him. “Let both of them know I’ll be stopping by. Or need collecting in one case, I guess.”

  “I’ll let them know. Why don’t you go inside so I can run your errands?”

  “I’m really not going to eat you. I’ll go grab a beer while I wait.”

  Inside the pub was much the same as before, smoke filled the air, people lazed on medieval beanbags or perched on rickety chairs and slugged back beers. Benille looked up as the door swung open and nodded politely in my direction.

  “Sir Bob. Welcome back.” He poured a pint of Hogspiss and slid it across the counter to me. “Your previous room is available. Is Mr. Whaley joining you?”

  “Who?”

  “Tex, sir.”

  “Oh. No, I’m flying solo this time.”

  “Very good, sir.” He slid a key over to me. “I’ll have your room prepared. Will you be dining with us this evening?”

  “I’d like to offer you an alternative. Mr Dalgliesh would be happy to host you this evening.” I didn’t turn around.

  “That was fast, Bulldo,” I muttered before taking a sip.

  “You would not believe how many alarms went off when an unrecognised portal opened within the city. My employer is resolving this not-so-minor issue for you while we speak. Hi, Beville.”

  “Mr Bulldo.” Another beer appeared.

  “That’s on his tab,” I said.

  “Of course, Sir Bob.”

  “Just Bob, dammit.”

  Bulldo was wearing his trademark dark suit, and the eyepiece of his scoot was retracted to the side of his skull.

  “Bob will be coming with us, I’m afraid.” Another deep voice emerged from the doorway. It swung shut behind a pair of men in heavy plate. I couldn’t see any weapons, but with bags of holding in play, they could be carrying an arsenal in a belt pouch, and I’d never know.

  “We cleared it with you guys. The D.B.E. has already called your lot off; you were the first we reached out to,” said Bulldo, stepping between the newcomers and me. It was a nice, if pointless, gesture.

  “How is Kenny’s eye?” asked the man on the left with the basso rumble.

  “Better than Lartery’s left hand, I bet. You really don’t want to find out how pissed Kenny is about that last tussle.”

  “A rematch can be arranged. I am Quaestor Light Invincible. This is Quaestor-Superior Defiant Belligerence. We’d like to discuss a few irregularities with your appearance here.” Bulldo looked over at me and winced.

  “You did file the paperwork, right?”

  “What bloody paperwork?” I snapped, rising to my feet. The people at the tables between our two groups hastily cleared out of the way at the mention of the word paperwork, pressing back against the walls, or hurrying towards the other exits from the bar.

  “That’s a no, then. Mr. Bob, I’m afraid there are rules. But I’m sure the knowledge that this man is not only gentry, but also a valuable colleague in the Dalgliesh Business Enterprise, will cause you to rethink this approach, won’t it, gentlemen?” He quirked his only functional eyebrow at the pair.

  “Not this time, Bulldo.” Defiant Belligerence had a soft voice, high-pitched and nasal. “He needs tagging.” Bulldo raised his right hand while his left slid behind his back, and the fingers on it began to wiggle.

  “Now, chaps, I’m sure we don’t need to get legal involved,” he said, and I saw grown-ass men, covered top to toe in heavy armour, flinch at the threat.

  “As much as we respect Miss Sanderson’s talents, blessings on her Patron Karen, I’m afraid in this instance we must insist,” said Invincible. “It is a price we shall simply have to pay, in triplicate.”

  “Well, that is a terrible shame.” Bulldo’s fingers stopped wiggling behind his back, his other hand clamped onto my shoulder as glittering lines formed on the floor, and the pub vanished.