“He did,” I confirmed proudly. “It’s a specialist class scouts can attain by fulfilling certain prerequisites. In this case, murdering a mole-rat while wearing ballbag armor.” Damn, it felt good to be the one who knew things for a change.
“That’s… gross, and not quite how it’s worded here.”
I could tell she was reading it more closely now because she’d stopped flitting around all over the place and was instead perched once more atop my gem, her wings occasionally fluttering and giving off showers of microscopic sparks.
"Aw, Sparky, I haven't seen you this excited in ages."
“How many times do I have to ask you to stop calling me that?”
“At least once more, Sparky.”
She rolled her eyes. I could tell she also wanted to rustle her wings in annoyance, but was very deliberately trying not to lest they give off more sparks and prompt further teasing.
“You know my wings have always done this, right? Why wait until now to start mocking me for it? Surely it would have made sense to do that when we first met. Gods know you antagonized me in every other way you could think of.”
“Think of it as a compliment. In some societies, earning a nickname is a mark of respect. Be proud.”
“You know, Corey, it never ceases to amaze me that despite no longer having an anus—assuming you did have one in your former life, that is—you still do a very convincing impression of someone talking out of theirs.”
“Rude.”
“Anyway, quit deflecting. You were telling me all about this new ‘hunter’ profession. You say Shanky gained it automatically? You didn’t have a choice in the matter?”
“Um…”
The sprite fixed me with her glowing stare.
“Fine! The class-up was optional. I was going to wait until later so we could look at it together, but I got impatient. Also the trip back here was really boring, what with Ris'kin having to carry Longshank and all that."
Assuming Ket had eyebrows—she was so tiny the only features even I could make out were shining eyes and glittering wings and not much else—I could tell they’d just risen all the way up into her hair. “You were going to wait? For me? You?”
“It’s the thought that counts, right?"
She trilled sarcastically. “Sure. So, about this prerequisite. ‘Rivalry,’ you said?”
“Right. I looked into it on the way back here. Apparently, Longshank formed a ‘Basic Creature Rivalry’ with the mole-rat species when he killed that one in the tunnels today.”
“But they've killed mole-rats before. How else would they have gotten all that darling armor?" I could hear her smirking, but didn't rise to it.
“Well, it was the armor that did it, you see," I replied loftily. "The previous kills must've been made by gnomes not wearing the new armor."
"Interesting. Maybe it's a rite of passage for them to only wear armor from something they've killed?"
I mentally shrugged. "Maybe. Anyway, it seems the double whammy of skin-wearing plus stabby death is what unlocked the official rivalry, which in turn unlocked the new vocation.”
“Look at you, doing your research, taking your job seriously.” She beamed. “I’m so proud of you. So, what does ‘rivalry’ actually do?”
“Um…”
Ket sighed. “Aaand we’re back.”
Ket's excitement at all this new information had made her forget all about Binky. My beautiful furry spider guardian had grown fascinated with Ket, in spite of—or perhaps because of—the fact that she disdained him at every turn. Right now he was abseiling closer and closer to the gem on which my sprite was perched, and I amused myself by imagining what would happen if he managed to successfully land on top of her.
Then I realized he was about to land on top of her.
Oh, no.
It would be like an enthusiastic Labrador attempting to curl up on the lap of a newborn baby—adorable, yes, but also potentially disastrous.
"Ket..."
"Hmm?"
"Look up."
Seven
All Hail the Spider God
Corey
There was a pause as Ket tore her eyes off the Augmentary. Then she squealed and streaked away from my gem in a trail of sparks, like a firefly shot from a blowgun.
Poor Binky's legs drooped in disappointment, and he shot me a look that said “Traitor.” Still, he kept descending. I watched apprehensively. This was a big moment for Binky. He was usually shy and came down only for food, or when I had other instructions for him, like during the battle when he and Flea the badger had bravely defended the children in the Refuge from the attacking kobolds.
As he touched down atop my shrine, the two acolytes there—who, until that point, had been very steadfastly continuing to worship as though nothing were happening—finally gave in to their fear and fled down the hill and into the shelter of the nearest gnomehome.
Binky ignored them. Focused on the new surface underneath him, his furry greenish legs danced deftly on the stone as he turned in circles. One of his hook-toed feet nudged my gem, which teetered a little but remained in place, and eventually he settled his bulk down atop it, despite clearly being far too large. Now he was simply like a Labrador trying to make itself at home in the bed of a much smaller puppy; tragic in its own way, but mostly harmless.
"And you're just going to leave him there, are you?" said Ket.
"Why not? He looks adorable."
She spluttered. "He looks like a broody hen, only a million times more terrifying."
Binky shuffled his weight a little, as though trying to get more comfortable. He did look like he was planning to hatch an egg. Broody… hmm. Perhaps it was time for me to make him a lady-spider companion...
I snorted as I imagined Ket's reaction to having two spiders in the Grotto, laying their squishy eggs in every corner to eventually hatch into hundreds more tiny spiders, which in turn would breed more spiders...
"What's so funny?" the sprite asked suspiciously, sensing my amusement.
"Trust me, you don't want to know."
From the doorway of the creche—a large circular structure surrounded by gnomehomes at the base of the
