“Look, I know how awkward this has to be for you. We’re not friends. You run with the top-ranked cohort, and I run with the last. I know what you and the rest of the First think about me and my friends. So, I’m just going to get to the point and forego the small talk. I’m here about Chadrigoth. What did you see that day at the Slaughter Pits? You threw me a look. Maybe it was pity, or maybe I just imagined it. But me and friends nearly died back there, so if you know something, I’d appreciate you talking to me.”
“Bold,” Tet said, offering Logan a ghost of a smile. “Direct. Does that tend to work on most women in your experience?” she asked, quirking a manicured eyebrow.
Logan shrugged. “I’ve been told it can be a little off-putting, but I thought you might appreciate it since neither of us have time for games. Not with the Winnowing coming up. So, do you know anything?”
She paused, canting her body and staring side-eyed at him. “You’re a curious creature, Logan. Small. Weak. Yet indomitable in ways that I can appreciate. And I can appreciate direct talk when it’s necessary. As for the information I have, I imagine it’s less robust than what you’d like. But I’ll share it all the same.” Tet turned. Her ear twitched and her tail flicked. She crossed her arms. “The truth is, I don’t know anything for sure. But Chadrigoth did leave us for a few minutes. He said he needed to run an important errand. You guys were gone when he returned.” She offered a lopsided shrug. “I figured he was messing with you. He’s the type to bully the less fortunate.”
Logan squinted. “What can I say, we’re the Terrible Twelfth, but we’re getting less terrible all the time.”
“We’ve noticed,” the cat woman replied evenly. “As I said, you are indomitable in ways that I can appreciate. Ever since you destroyed Magmarty, we’ve been taking the four of you more seriously. And yesterday, what did you do to that poor doomhound?”
“Gem-Studded Puffballs,” Logan explained. “It’s warm enough that I started growing them near the bleachers before class. I lured the hound in, and my mushroom grenades did the rest.”
Tet offered a wicked half smile. Her sapphire green eyes lit up with an amused light. “This ability to rapidly grow your mushrooms has drastically helped you. And I’ve noticed you’re a lot tougher than you were at the Slaughter Pits. You got some sort of tincture there, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” Logan said coolly, not wanting to tip his hand. In fact, those ghoul’s teeth had knocked him up two ranks. He was sitting pretty as an Iron Trunk cultivator, Rank 8. He’d benefited the most from the blade ghoul’s gift since it was Morta Apothos, and that was one of his two primary Affinity types. He also processed it far better than his friends, thanks in part to his increased Digestion ability.
Unlike the others, he could instantly convert sixty percent of the incoming Apothos into pure Apothos, which gave him an enormous leg up. Inga, on the other hand, had been so nauseated from the ghoul’s teeth that she hadn’t been able to eat for three days. Even Marko’d had to take a night away from the bottle to recover. Treacle had wandered around, belching, chewing cud, and looking miserable.
At least, more miserable than usual.
Even though they’d struggled with the ghoul’s teeth, the Terrible Twelfth had been riding high since their victory on the field trip. They’d taken down two Azure Branch cultivators, and though they didn’t get much of the Apothos, taking out real live dungeoneers just felt good. No one else in their year had managed to accomplish that. Not even the venerable First Cohort. So, Logan and the Terrible Twelfth might’ve been the worst, but they also had bragging rights of sorts.
Even Marko had been taking his schoolwork more seriously, and not just Professor Arketa’s dungeon design class. He was crafting better, eliciting fewer sighs from Crucible, and even paying more attention in Rockheart’s Traps, Pits, and Pendulums class. He still slept through Nekhbet’s history lectures, though. Logan couldn’t really blame him.
Tet looked too skeptical to even roll her eyes. “You don’t need to tell me a thing. It’s none of my business, and it will remain none of my business. What else are you wondering about?” she asked. “Since we have this special time together, do you have any more questions?”
Logan wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not. She seemed simultaneously flirty and deadpan. But it was worth rolling the dice in case she was being genuine. It had taken him six weeks to get the cat woman alone. It might not happen again. And there was a good chance he’d either die or be a casualty of the Winnowing. He might as well get to know her. “Okay, Tet, what do you think about being a part of the First Cohort? You’re what, an A-Class like Chadrigoth?”
“Please, he wishes he were A-Class. Everyone thinks he’s an ascended Jade Leaf, but he’s B-Class, Rank 1. Though”—she shrugged—“he probably will hit A-Class by the time finals are through. As for me, I’m a B-Class, Rank 3. When I evolve, I’ll be a greater scorpion hemet-netjer.” She caught her tail in her hand. “My tail will transform into a stinger. It will be much bigger and much deadlier.”
“Half cat, half scorpion?” Logan nodded. “Pretty cool. I think I just become more fungal. So I got that going for me.”
Tet actually smiled and relaxed some. “To answer your question... I like being among the elite. I’ve trained my entire life to attend this school, you know. That wasn’t the case with you, was it? Uroth barely has any Apothos, if my studies into your world are correct.”
Logan shot her a finger gun. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t even know about the Tree of Souls.” The fact that she’d researched Earth at all was interesting. Maybe she was more interested in him and the Terrible Twelfth than she’d let on.
Tet’s ear twitched. “And yet here you are, progressing, evolving, becoming a champion in your own right.” She paused to take him in. “I grew up in the Spectral Deserts of Eritreus, a wasteland on a continent far from Haven’s Home.”
“I’ve heard the butter knives there are amazing,” Logan joked.
“Nekhbet can be such a bore.” This time the cat woman did roll her eyes.
Logan took a second to clarify something he’d been pondering. “So, Haven’s Home is what exactly? The largest city on Eritreus for dungeon cores? What is the big dungeoneer city? No one seems to talk much about that.”
Tet answered with a shake of her head. “Aurora is the grand city of the dungeoneers. Home to the thousand guilds and the Castinus Dynasty. It lies on the Golden Harbor, across the Dawn Sea from my home continent, Kemet Kemal. I visited Aurora once. I went as a disciple of the Coptic Champions to see the greed, the selfishness, and the chaos. The emperor tries to keep order, but the Dynasty is weak as an aging trawhella. The real power lies with the guilds. Everything is carved up into warring fiefdoms vying for power. The result is chaos enough for the mercenaries, cutpurses, and cutthroats to have their way.
“It’s all bright and shiny on the surface of things. A paradise. A utopia. But when you scratch the surface just a little, you can see the rot beneath. When I saw their lawless evil, it was clear what I needed to do with my life and with my eternity. I spent every waking moment working, always working, so that I’d be a good enough cultivator to get into Shadowcroft. Actually, the only reaping dungeon on Eritreus is in the Spectral Deserts of Kemet Kemal.”