Dew frowned at the piece of paper Pithy had left in front of him. “Mind running through that again for me?”

The woman sighed. “I have left a few messages inside the building. One in a room on the fourth floor, pointing whoever finds it to the entrance. I have no doubt that they will find that one once they get to that floor.”

“Why was that?”

“I destroyed the handle to imitate a break-in, made it as noticeable as I could without tearing the door down.” She shrugged. “If whoever comes is observant enough to realize a whole drawer full of keys is missing, they may be suspicious of it, but I doubt they would ignore it.”

“...right. And the others?”

“There is one hidden at the entrance, demanding that whoever shows their phylactery must go to a bookstore down the street on their own, if they wish to find me. This paper,” she said, pointing at the one on the table with her good hand, “is here in case someone comes across this room. In any case, your role is simple. You merely need to find a place to keep watch over the front entrance—”

“—And make sure that whoever comes follows the demands in your letters.”

“Precisely. I trust you won’t fall asleep this time?”

Dew scratched his head, the frown never leaving his expression. “One more time, please.”

“I am starting to think you are mocking me, Dew,” she said with a reproachful look. She was likely growing exasperated with him, but he did not feel particularly sympathetic.

“I’m just trying to make sure I’m not hearing wrong. Why are your plans always so stupidly complicated? What’s the point of having them explore the building? Why not just start shooting the moment someone shows up?”

“After what I saw last night, I am not keen on killing the other competitors.” She sighed. “But that is not the reason, truly. Ever since Nero foiled my ambush on you when we first fought, I have had a suspicion that killing another competitor without a battle may somehow jeopardize the Crucible. Moreover, having them search the building buys me time to go to the bookstore and prepare.”

“Why not just start at the bookstore, then?”

“If I have you, my next opponent may have allies of their own. This gives us a chance to isolate the one person we care about. It also means I have to stay inside this building to lead them here. At least until they go in.”

“What if they’re alone? Wouldn’t it be better to keep them in the open where I can see them instead of sending them somewhere else?”

“Only if they do not have allies in hiding, which I would rather not assume. You should follow them to corner them in the bookstore if no one else appears, however.”

Dew rubbed his eyes, groaning. This was one of those moments where he couldn’t tell if the woman was smarter than most or simply prone to overthinking every little thing. “There are [i]so many[/i] ways this can go wrong.”

Pithy nodded seriously. “It is good that you can tell. I would be shocked if this worked smoothly, in fact, so it is likely that you will have to do more than watch.”

He thought he knew where she was going. “So if they don’t go into the building, or ignore the warnings, you want me to kill them?”

Pithy paused. Then, heavily, she said, “If they do not have one of those flying machines with them, and they appear to be looking for us, yes. Otherwise, and this is important, Dew, shoot the machine first. It will keep them from finding me too quickly if they go off-script early. Whether they cross my wards when they enter the apartments, or I hear your gunfire, I will make for the store.”

Before he could open his mouth, Pithy preempted him. “Escaping should not be an issue. Even if someone is left guarding the entrance. I found a few back exits while I was exploring yesterday, and if all else fails, leaving through a window on the other side of the building should work fine.” She shook her head. “No, I’m reasonably certain I can leave without being noticed. If something goes wrong, however, as much as it scares me to say, you will have to use your best judgement. You may have to buy time to let me relocate, and then lead them to me.”

“I guess I can do that. What’s with that bookstore, though? Why do you want to go there?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, the white of her teeth flashing like a knife. “Let us say that, with any luck, I should have the advantage if a fight breaks out there.”

“So you want to fight alone? With one hand?”

“I’m as good with my left hand as I am with my right.”

“It’s still one arm.”

Pithy narrowed her eye and looked away in a way Dew did not at all like. “Let me worry about that.” The moment had gone as quickly as it had come, as Pithy returned her regard to him. “Nonetheless, you can keep Bonesword’s cutlass.” She nodded at the weapon, which had remained resting on the counter, forgotten since the previous day’s altercation with the snake. “I do not expect I will have much use for it.”

Dew grimaced and glanced away. He never thought he would feel bad over the prospect of free loot. “What about the plant snake?” he asked, in a last effort to mount some resistance to the sorceress's unreasonable reasoning.

The creature, which until then had been curled in on itself, lifted its head as it became the topic of the conversation.

Pithy tilted her head at it, then glanced at Dew. “Take it with you. It would make it harder for me to leave the building if I had to worry about it.”

“I’m more worried it might try to eat me again.” He grunted. “Fine.”

“One last thing.” Pithy said as she stood and began making her way to the windows. The first few rays of daylight had begun to make their way in from the outside.

“Yeah?” Dew answered, feeling compelled to stand and follow.

Pithy paused as she looked down. Following her gaze, Dew saw nothing untowards.

Indeed, all the clones that had appeared during the night seemed to have banished with the coming of sunrise. Dew snorted. He supposed he'd gotten lucky. The first time he had been told he would have to leave the building, he had asked about them. Maybe he should have expected it, but Pithy's answer had been a blank stare something to the effect of 'What about them?'

He didn't even know if he hated or respected that.

“Once you leave, don’t come back here until the enemy arrives or the sun is about to go down." Pithy said, bringing his attention back to the moment. "I won’t know who it is that is breaking my wards.”

"Yeah, yeah. I got it."

[hr]
That had been less than an hour ago.

Dew sat near large windows now, looking out at the streets below with his sniper rifle resting on his lap. The front of the building where they had stayed the previous night was right before him, and the entrance was clearly visible from his perch. What was also visible, was a wooden cart that had not been there the night before. 

Dew wondered what specifically had made him change his mind about Pithy. They had spent half of the previous day at each other’s throats, and if he was going to be honest now, he still did not like the woman one bit.

Still, after his blunder when laying a trap for Nero, he had begun to think that he may have jumped to conclusions about her and her reason for coming. He had expected to be chewed out when he called Pithy to him after falling asleep and missing Nero, but he had not expected her to start crying midway through it.

Dew let out an exasperated breath. “Shit. Maybe I’m just a mark for crying girls. I'm really hoping she mellows out if she gets what she wants." He frowned, already unconvinced. "Watch her turn around and try to conquer the world anyway if she wins.” He scowled, looking at the objects in his hands. “And now this. Shit.”

Dew held the prize the cart below had hidden, as well as the note that had come with it, in his hands. 

It had taken him a moment to understand the handwriting, but what he could read had surprised him.

“The idea that the ice queen could have friends is unbelievable,” he said jokingly to his companion.

The nearby snake hissed a reply.

“Hm. Everyone’s a critic.”

There was no denying that the arrow he now held in his hands had been meant for Pithy. If it was like the one at the art gallery, the one Nero had told them about, it seemed like it would come with a new batch of powers for whoever stabbed themselves with it. However, she had expressly told him not to go looking for her after he left, so he could hardly run up to the building and hand it over.

He had picked it up—of course he wasn’t dumb enough to leave an obvious power-up lying around—but now he was left with the choice of what to do with it.

The idea of using it on himself was very attractive. And why not? If half the College staff had used one, there was no reason to think it would be a one-use item. And it was more than that. Every time Pithy had spoken, it had been clear to him that she was looking for any possible edge over the competition. If he was really going to help her win, any advantage would be welcome.

He nodded, satisfied by that reasoning as he turned the arrow in his hand. It certainly wasn’t like he was simply excited to get new superpowers or anything.

Letting out his breath in anticipation, he brought the arrowhead down on his bicep.

[hr]
In the end, Pithy had chosen to wait for her next enemy, trusting that they would have to find their way to her if they wished to claim their wish. For that reason, she now stood in a small room on the fourth floor of the apartment building where she had stayed the night, only a few doors away from a room sporting a cracked frame and a largely missing handle. Boxes filled with garbage were pressed against the back of the room, and a chute covered by a shiny metal lid was visible on a nearby wall.

Regardless of her surroundings, Pithy was absorbed in other matters. A cold glow enveloped her bandaged hand. She had left it to Dew to wrap them for her, the task having proved somewhat cumbersome with a single hand, but rather than stopping at the wounds over her fingers, the man had continued onwards to mummify not only each individual finger, but the better part of her right forearm.

“It looks cooler this way,” he had told her by way of an excuse. Weary of quarreling with the fool, she had simply let him do as he wished.

Now, however, she had unfastened the bindings ever so slightly so she could see some of the pale skin as she laid down her preparations. As much as it pained to admit it, Dew had a point. The dead weight would only put her at a disadvantage.

She could not move the inert muscle. However, she could work with something else.

Even if she dreaded the idea that had occurred to her, it was a simple matter if she thought of of it logically. Her time was running out. She was not sure if her time in this new realm, or her exposure to these phylacteries had accelerated the rate of erosion, or if this was simply what had awaited her had she not taken the College's offer, but that did not matter now. She simply needed to last until she could make a wish, and any time beyond that was, simply enough, a commodity.

It just so happened, then, that commodities were meant to be traded.