Biomass stored:

  357.2 KG

  The hunting had been good, despite the occasional high-pitched wail from my shoulders spooking the prey. I’d racked up enough to get another evolution and have a bit left to tide me over to my next hunting trip.

  Once I was full, I’d flown west as quickly as I could, gliding from thermal to thermal and heading ever homeward. My horde was calling to me, and I had a generous contribution to make to it. I was going to be so damn comfy, I wouldn’t want to move for days.

  Lust Monkey punched me in the brain and reminded me of the outfit Esme had requested, which was fair. I wouldn’t move for a few hours, then I’d pay the Cod a visit. I needed to catch up on the dungeon and the minions.

  “You ever been in an adventuring team?” I asked my passenger.

  “We don’t have teams. Elves form squads. A few close-in fighters, half a dozen archers, and a couple of tree-singers,” Halefire groaned.

  “What’s a tree-singer?”

  “Nature mage. Plant and life magic. Are we nearly there yet?”

  “You see that massive spike of rock in the distance? That’s home. Quit complaining. Don’t you guys ever fly?”

  “Not if we can help it…”

  He whimpered and complained for the rest of the flight, a steady sound that spiked into screams of terror as I slotted neatly into the entrance to my lair half a mile off the ground. Threading the needle, splatty rock faces to either side, was always a rush. I never had any fear, though; some kind of built-in sense let me know I was going to hit the mark, or rather miss the cliff face of doom.

  I slid gracefully to a stop by my much diminished hoard. What the actual… I had given Kat permission to expand our industrial capability. I’d done that, and Greed had rebelled. It was my fault, not hers. It was fine.

  Dungeon Status:

  Unnamed Dungeon.

  Level: 10

  Floors: 19 (Residential) (Industrial x2) (Agricultural) (Mana Crystal Farm) (Alchemy lab) (Combat x6) (TBC x7)

  Rooms: 32

  Sprite level: 23

  Minions: 53/70

  Hoard: 672,247 gold

  “Fuckity fuck shit twat bastard!” I cursed. Two hundred thousand gold! I sent a column of fire out of the entrance and roared in frustration. As the echoes died down, a sudden dampness spread across my shoulders.

  “Get off,” I ordered, snaking my head round to glare at Halefire, even as a tail plucked him from my back and dropped him unceremoniously to the ground. “Stay over there and be quiet.”

  The elf hurried into a corner and shook like a sapling in the wind. I produced my pouch of gold and held it carefully over what remained of my hoard. Gold coins spilled out like a waterfall. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a torrent of shinies splashing down and scattering themselves around my golden mattress.

  And they just kept pouring out. Whenever I thought it had stopped, I gave the bag a shake and dislodged something that let the cascade continue.

  “Shiny,” I muttered, over and over again, all thoughts of the stain on my shoulders forgotten. My greed-goblin passed out in ecstasy. “You have no idea how good this feels,” I said to Halefire without looking over at him.

  “Like taking a piss you’ve been holding in for hours, I expect.”

  “Kat! Do you see? Do you see?” I nodded happily at the new hoard as the flow slowed to a trickle, then stopped. I gave it a shake and a few more dribbles of gold fell out, then an extra shake to be sure. Masculine instincts apparently translated from human to dragon.

  “Yes, Bob. I see a very large pile of gold. Every time you go to the city, you come back with a load of loot and a bunch of shitty new obligations. So, who did you sell your soul to this time?” Kat asked, crossing her arms.

  “Pixie, in accordance with the Accords, I demand you compel this beast to free me of my oath!” snapped Halefire. I wriggled up on top of my hoard and burrowed down until my flanks were covered and blew out an epic sigh. God, this was what life was all about.

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  “You’re the elf? I’m assigning you to the Fighting Dolphins. When they aren’t running the dungeon, they’re out on patrol. An Elven ranger will be a nice compliment to their capabilities. Head down to the Residential floor and look for a chap called Lockso. He’ll get you set up and introduce the rest of the team,” Kat said, slapping the ruler that had replaced her sword into one hand.

  “Why are you dressed like that? Pixies are free-loving people, but they don’t usually display the wares so openly,” he asked.

  Kat did what Kat always does when a minion fails to jump to her commands. I winced in sympathy as the elf folded around his own private universe of pain. “So, other than selling weapons to a non-imperial faction, how much shit have you caused in the city?” she asked me, ignoring the man’s whimpers.

  “Nothing!” I snapped. “I’m not a child, Kat. I can visit the city and make a pile of lovely cash without getting into trouble!” I squirmed and savoured the tinkle of gold settling against gold.

  “Bollocks. Spill.” Her voice was cold.

  “I mean, Phillpot is buying my feathers for a huge chunk of change now. And I had a noblewoman assassinated so Dalgliesh could get some union bill passed. That might have started a civil war, if I’m honest. Oh yeah, I’m now obligated to fight in the arena three times a year as well. Nothing major!”

  “Setting the arena aside, that’s a really bad idea, by the way: A CIVIL WAR?” she screamed.

  “I said might! It’s just posturing and moving armies like pieces on a board at this point!” I replied dismissively.

  “That is how civil wars start, lizard! For God's sake, Bob. So to summarise, you’re now an indentured arena fighter, I don’t want to know how that happened, you’ve started selling angel feathers to a being contractually bound to the ruler of the second Circle of Hell, you killed some noblewoman and started a civil war, got kidnapped by state sanctioned pixie-slavers, ate said pixies, and started selling arms to an enemy of the Empire. Does that about sum it up?” she asked scathingly.

  “I didn’t eat the pixies, actually. But otherwise, well, you’re putting a very negative spin on the whole situation. It all worked out fine in the end!” I grumped. Dammit, it had worked out ok. The worst part was having to fight to the death in the arena again, in my opinion, but the prize purse and percentage of the take made up for it. The pile of shinies shifted as I dug myself in deeper. A couple of tails flicked out and scooped any errant coins back into the hoard.

  “This isn’t even the end of the beginning, Bob. For the love of the Cosmic Core, I’m going to have to insist on accompanying you on all future jaunts to Ankmapak. You just can’t be trusted!”

  “Kat. Enough. You run the dungeon for me, keep everything ticking over, and batter the balls of any minion that steps out of line. I appreciate you.” My tone of voice didn’t suggest that appreciation was my true feeling. “But you need to stop this shit. I did what I could, your highness. Shit just seems to go sideways sometimes.”

  Her tiny bosom heaved for a moment as she released her pent-up rage, then her eyes softened slightly. “I know you do your best, Bob. But Heaven’s Fury, you make a lot of fucking mess.” She glared at Halefire, then continued. “What are you still doing here? Don’t say a word about this altercation to anyone else. Get down to the residential floor. Give Lockso a breakdown of your skills and abilities. Get!” The elf flinched and hurried for the hatch.

  “How’s the pub doing?” I asked, looking to change the subject.

  “Fine, but that wasn’t what you wanted to ask. Esme is good. Jenny has got her trained up on the baking now. Do you still want to introduce this world to the horror of franchises? I’m not sure it’s good for your karma, to be honest,” Kat said as she pulled out a few coins to make a short stack and perched on it, crossing her legs.

  “I do. Longbottom seems like a good place to start. It’s not too hard on the portals. We can supply from the Mill and undercut the bastards.”

  “Why there? There are closer towns, towns within a day or two by wagon.”

  “I’ve got some business with the mayor. That’s the hub of the slave trade. I swear, pixies are worse than the bloody vampires!” I gumbled.

  “Vampires?”

  “There’s a coven, or nest? Whatever, there’s a bunch of them living under the city.”

  “And you know this how?” she asked icily. I quickly explained my interactions with Agatha and the Library. I didn’t lie, but I might have put as rosy a shine on the tale as possible.

  “So, Dalgliesh the Glaswegian sociopath, Agatha the horny vampiress, Phillpot the Warlock-merchant. Are you noticing any sort of pattern?”

  “I’m being led astray by a bad crowd?” I suggested innocently.

  “Johnson, Tex, Jenny, and Esme.”

  “The good people? I don’t think Tex really counts on that list.”

  “What is your goal?” she said sadly. I craned my neck round and pointed an eye at her, ignoring the gold that tinkled away from my hoard.

  “Not to get another downgrade.”

  “And yet the more you associate with villains, the richer you get, Bob. And I know you love money like a drowning man loves fresh air.”

  “The world is working against me?” I asked.

  “Of course it is! You think the system, the WOO, and the gods play fair? Your weakness is greed.” I opened my snout, but she held up a finger. “Among other things, obviously.”

  “I can’t just hide in this cave, Kat.”

  “I know. But you need to start figuring out that you are not an actor, you’re a victim. You will always be presented with choices, and the most tempting ones will always lead you down dark paths, tie you to dubious people. Bob, I’ve seen it before. You’re a well-intentioned moron, at best. Stop making ever more trouble for yourself.”

  Kat had never spoken to me like this. Lacking her primary target for physical violence, she had always been verbally scathing, but never… earnest?

  “I’m not a moron! Nor am I a fucking victim! I’m a dragon!” I snapped. I wasn’t sure if Pixies were mammals, but I was done taking shit from that species, genus, whatever the hell they were.

  “Exactly what every moron says.” She shook her head sadly.

  “Do we have any gherkins? I can’t find them anywhere. Maybe you can be useful and pick some up from the core shop,” I demanded.

  “Why the hell would a dragon want vegetables? You guys are worse than six-year-olds in that regard!”

  “Since my last evolution, I’ve just had a hankering. No one seems to know what they are.” Optimism blossomed in my heart.

  “What was your last evolution?” She suddenly focused on me with a laser-like glare.

  “Paternal indifference. I figured it was the best of a bad lot.”

  She stayed very still for a moment, then very gradually her shoulders began to shake.

  “Been feeling a bit full recently?” she asked as her motion threatened to dislodge her borderline explicit outfit into the realms of pornography.

  “Yeah. Like, I’m hungry but I feel full.”

  “Bob, you’re going to be a dad.”

  “Say what now?”