He centered himself and focused all his attention on her. "Hit me. Explain why you're debating the kind of asshole I am rather than if I am one in the first place."

  "Oh, you're definitely an asshole," Shilloh said. "No question there. But if I assume you're a decent person who has been misguided into asshole behavior, then it's easier to handle than if you have core beliefs that are untenable."

  He thought for a second. "Fair."

  "Fair?"

  "Yeah. I mean, that seems reasonable."

  She sighed, "See. This is what I'm talking about. What if I told you that it was fucking stupid to spend all your time and talent killing things?"

  "I'd be annoyed at the phrasing, but interested in the point."

  "What about if I told you that swords are dumb weapons?"

  "Are you talking about the pole-arm versus sword debate when we talk about them as second-string weapons prior to magic?"

  "No. Bad example. What if I told you that your truck sucked and you could obviously do better with a Jeep?"

  "I'd probably ask what you mean."

  "See! That's the distressing thing I mentioned."

  "No, I really, really don't see."

  "You're too good at receiving criticism. Like, weirdly good at it. And that makes it hard for me to be mad at you because it's so easy to imagine you having a light bulb moment and stopping the bullshit."

  He lifted his hands, but didn't know what to do with them. "Thank you? I guess. I think that being open to critiques and accepting of the possibility of being wrong helps combat stagnation. That's important if you want to improve. And we should all want that. Though" he raised an eyebrow, "I would ask you not to call my life, purpose, and the sacrifices I make for the sake of servicing the public 'bullshit.'"

  To her credit, Shilloh didn't fall to anger either and immediately apologized.

  "I'm sorry. I have been unusually bitchy to you. And I mean that genuinely. I have been rather unlikable the last week or two. You're trying to do the right thing, but it's just that some of the ways you have done it are very close to very shitty memories of mine."

  He almost asked for frank feedback again; Just to fuck with her. It was about time he got some mileage out of that skill.

  It was a core part of his life since he took on a purpose greater than himself. It had been Frost who taught him the importance of always being willing to change your mind, and Jasque who had made him practice accepting his defects until the idea of continual learning was carved into his bones.

  Being willing to let smarter people help you course-correct was the only way someone like Wade was ever going to make a difference.

  The annoying Shilloh part was an unexpected and very appreciated bonus.

  There was a sound of yelling from outside, and the caravan leader walked past. He informed everyone that they would be moving soon and asked everyone to choose their vehicle for today.

  "Do you know that guy?" Shilloh asked, face suddenly blank. "I saw him talking with Birch earlier."

  "He runs the caravan, but I don't know much else. He's usually very quiet and very intense."

  She grunted, following the man with her eyes before shaking herself out of whatever thoughts had consumed her.

  "Oh, I forgot to ask. Will Jasque be riding with you?"

  "No. Not today." It was best if they didn't raise suspicion until as late in the trip as possible. Eventually, people would note that Wade and Jasque seemed to be avoiding guard duty and the usual bane things. While they were in his territory, a bodyguard was less important. So Jasque would move around the caravan a lot. Get people used to seeing them separate. He would probably take shifts in lookout positions where he could shoot any stray cryptos they came across. Once they were out of his mark's reach, they would stay in the car most of the day to avoid people questioning why Wade was never left alone or responding to threats.

  "Alright. Does the offer still stand for me to ride with you today?"

  "Of course."

  "Thanks," she smiled, and he returned it. The annoyance from earlier started defusing. "So, where is Jasque?"

  "Probably off volunteering to guard the caravan."

  "Really? I thought that was just a line. Can we really get discounts for the trip by helping with that sort of thing?"

  "Well, Jasque and I can. I don't think you're quite there yet."

  "Excuse me! I distinctly remember diving in with super strength to protect you from a monster and then princess carrying you away."

  He lifted his eyebrows and let his aura hit her again.

  "Oh yes, yes. I know. You're the biggest, strongest man with the biggest, longest revolver. I bet you're so tough that you can even do your own laundry without a grown-up having to help."

  "Well, excuse me. Not all of us have your tactical brilliance. We need to compensate with weapons since we can't rely on amazing stratagems like, 'ignore the professional monster killer, and stare straight at the area he said would shred my mind.'"

  "You're just mad because I carried you around like a small, scared little bunny."

  "Bunny?"

  "Yeah. A shaky, scared one."

  "I seem to recall you being princess carried first. And you were all but shitting your pants."

  "I was not—"

  "Puh-lease, we were seconds away from having to call in a code brown."

  "Code brown is for lifeguards, not—"

  "They're for anyone, up to and including your prom date."

  Her faux anger broke, and the cartographer laughed.

  "Alright, ignoring my ability to punch through cars and easily carry away damsels in distress at superhuman speeds, why can't I get paid to help guard the caravan?"

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "You want the real answer or the good answer?"

  "Both."

  He grumbled under his breath about how everyone always chooses 'both'. Shilloh smiled like she had heard, and he made a mental note about her hearing being a bit too keen.

  "In reality, you have no experience, and I won't vouch for you."

  "Because you'd have to admit that I princess carried you?"

  "No, because I have no idea what your limits are or what your training is. There's a lot to know: friendly fire, knowledge of crypto weaknesses, split-second judgment, basic endurance, and familiarity with ranged weapons."

  "Endurance?"

  "Endurance," he nodded. "You'd be surprised about how many situations make super strength less useful than your ability to run for a long time in the right direction. Or just use a radio."

  She frowned. "Alright, I think we both know where this is going. Let's skip the chase. That was a terrible fake-casual voice you used to talk about the depth of my ignorance. Also, Jasque had reading pre-prepared to assign me."

  "I mean, he could have just been trying to be nice."

  Shilloh stared at him and raised an eyebrow.

  "Hey! For all you know, he could be—"

  "Wade. I've met him. I've heard him, and I've been kidnapped by him. You know my stance on Jasque and his creepy stares."

  "Alright, fine. Yes. He was hoping to help train you on the trip. Fold you into some of our travel routines since you'll be joining up."

  "And do you want me to train with you?"

  "Yes," he said immediately.

  "Why?"

  "Honestly? It's good company, Jasque and I both think we know positions that you could be offered where you'd make a big difference. Jasque has been pushing me hard to help guide you towards those."

  Her brows came together. "Guide me?"

  Wade was wise enough to know when silence was the only safe answer to give a woman.

  Eventually, she leaned back with a huff, stared at the ceiling, and asked him a question with her voice substantially calmer. "We're talking about things like running, shooting, identifying tracks, and memorizing bestiaries, right?"

  "Those are the basics. There's more to it when magic users collaborate."

  "And he is in charge of your training?"

  "Yes."

  She chewed the inside of her lip for a second before nodding her head. "Alright. If that's the case, then fuck no with a side of screw that. But I'll work with you if you want to help me polish up my skills before I do my real interview and negotiations."

  Wade blinked. "Me?"

  "You."

  "Yeah, but me?"

  "Yes. Tell me about the interview, about what sort of practice will put me in a good position for it, and we can have a training montage or whatever."

  He was saved from having to answer immediately when the driver got in. They all buckled up, and Wade made a subtle privacy barrier to keep their conversation from leaking to the front.

  "Shilloh, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to teach you much during the trip."

  "Really?" she said, crossing her arms. "If this is an ultimatum about taking both of you or none, then I'd happily choose none."

  "No, it's not that. I keep very busy. Like, very busy. Without proper resources at home, Jasque and I have to train twice as hard to keep from backsliding. I can't do that and then separately give you the time you'd need."

  Her lips pursed, but she gave him a grudging nod.

  "Can you at least tell me about the interview and the criteria?"

  He grimaced out an uncomfortable smile.

  "Really!"

  "Sorry."

  "Why can't you tell me! I'm sworn to secrecy."

  "It's just an information security thing. Even if you're cleared to know secret stuff, it's best not to tell unless there is a need to know."

  "What about a strong want that is intense enough to be akin to a need?"

  He laughed, thinking about Sam protecting Shilloh's own information not too long ago in this exact situation. "Sorry. If there is a choice, then we always have to choose not to share."

  "Can you at least tell me if I need to buy a suit?"

  "Nope, but if you train with me, then maybe you can break my resolve or get some details to slip. Plus, it'll be fun." He waggled his eyebrows and smiled a big shit eating grin.

  "Suuuure," she snorted." Though, while we're talking secrets, at some point we need to talk about you pontificating about how every minute can cost a life. It's horrible for your cover."

  They were waved in his hand in a so-so gesture. "I actually think it's really healthy for people to know the consequences of their actions and seriously consider how their personal values dictate their obligation to help others. Everyone can help someone. Even people with the capability of my cover should believe that."

  She lifted a finger, "I have another question, so we're going to bookmark that one for later."

  "Yes?"

  "What does a girl need to do to get a latrine gun?"

  "A latrine gun?" he said, getting used to the sudden, rapid conversation shifts.

  "Yeah? See, I'm a bit adverse to kidnappings, not sure if you heard."

  "It might have come up, yes."

  "Exactly! Once bitten is twice shy and all that. So I used to have a hidden firearm in the bathroom. It was my toilet gun. I figured that bad guys would want to attack during any time where people have few avenues of escape and may even have tied their own ankles together. So, the toilet is a prime vulnerability. Also, even worse, if someone has a healthy diet, or you're able to dose them with laxatives, then it's a predictable and vulnerable time. You with me?"

  "No. Why can't you just use your magic to get your familiars to attack and defend you?"

  "They're not familiars, they're animal friends. Familars is a different thing."

  "Can you get a familiar?"

  She paused, lips pursing. A familiar was a big commitment. More profound than marriage. Doing that for the sake of violence had certain… social implications in the dryad community. She did not like thinking about what people around town in her old life would have said.

  But this wasn't the old life.

  She shunted that discomfort of that thought to the side and plowed on.

  "Maybe. But I was asking if you were keeping up with what I was saying."

  "If you mean, do I understand that you spend a lot of time thinking about kidnapping people while they poop, then yes."

  "Perfect. Glad we're in synch. Keep it up and you'll go far in this business. Anyway. I used to have a toilet gun. But, as our dear friend Sam pointed out to me, I'll be using latrines for much of the foreseeable future. So I need to replace and upgrade to a latrine gun."

  "You talked to Sam—secret agent Sam—about your poop habits?"

  "Of course, what else do you think women talk about when we're on our own?"

  Before he could respond, she lifted a hand, "Rhetorical question. The important thing is I want to know if being a bane means I can get a clever little gun so I can surprise anyone who tries to kidnap me from the latrines."

  Wade sat back and found himself shaking his head. "I hate what this says about me, but I actually think I know a perfect solution. To the training question, and for the—and I hate myself even more for saying this phrase out loud—latrine gun."

  "Okay? What is it?"

  "You remember the friend I mentioned to you? Scotty?"

  "The one who you said was the biggest nerd who had ever lived?"

  "Yes. What I didn't tell you is that he's a Bane. He's also a weapons nerd who just so happens to be a firearms specialist."

  She made a circling gesture with her hand, telling him to keep going.

  "He's also a frighteningly good enchanter."

  "I'm interested."

  "And," he said, failing to hold back a grin. "Jasque respects his capability while thinking he is a terrible influence."

  "Sold!"

  "Perfect. He's going to join us in a few stops. If you want him to help you train and get a gun, then all you need to do is get to him before he joins the caravan so that he doesn't commit that time elsewhere."

  "And he'll do this for free?"

  Wade cocked his head and flopped back in his seat. "Actually. That's a really good question. He's no slouch about training, but he's also very dedicated to laziness as a pursuit. He doesn't like giving up his movie or reading time."

  "So what do we need? Booze? Money? I've got some savings. But I'm not sure what else I can offer unless he wants tips on cartography and gardening."

  He looked at the woman sitting across from him, and an idea occurred. "There may be a way. You said you're traveling with a friend. Who is it?"

  "Birch."

  "The ballsy one who hung out the back of the truck?"

  "Yeah," she grimaced." Her and the older woman I volunteer with. Apparently, she and Birch are road tripping together to get Agnes to a big music festival and Birch to some business thingy."

  "Alright," he said, recalling Jacque's prediction about Shilloh being alone and therefore more willing to join them in training so she wouldn't feel isolated. "I think you can get Scotty's help. But you may need Birch."

  "I don't think I like where this is going."

  He grinned, thinking of the short impish woman and her drunken antics, "You're going to love it," he said with an evil grin. "Plus, he has a much looser tongue than I if you're looking for scuttlebutt."

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