This is still a story of the Becoming Monsters universe by Ai Loves, setting used with permission. All canonical and mechanical errors are my own. The yarrb is the exceedingly cute creation of FelisRandomis, used with permission.

  —

  Chapter 42: Death and Taxes

  Friday morning. Traditionally the sprint to the weekend began here, but not for us. Not today. We were trying to savor it. One st day off. Or… kind of. We had a mission today. Sarah and Amber were crafting. Whitney and Emily were researching. The rest of us? Well, that was a bit more interesting.

  “Okay, so, see these two runes? You don’t have to be an Enchanter to carve them, or empower them, just the middle step. So. Jay and Paige? You two are strong enough to put them in easily. Make sure they’re in the right spots, like in the picture!” Sarah was expining her standby project to us. This involved carving tiny sigils into individual links of chain mail. “I’ll check them once you do, set any good ones, and those can be energized by Lucy.”

  Paige was looking at the tiny rings of metal closely. “So… how many of these do you need done for the project?”

  Sarah gnced briefly down at her notes. “This is for the armor I’m making for you and Whitney. Each set will take a minimum of 450 enchanted links, the more the better. Given that it’s a retively small direct area, this is actually way more efficient than the full mail I have up next.” She was looking at me directly for that part. I should probably expin. An offhand comment I had made earlier in the week had led Sarah to theorize and successfully write out a formu that would allow her to make enchanted armor. One that would let our incredibly agile frontliners retain their speed and reflexes while gaining full-body protection, up to and including their wings’ main joints. One that would withstand the environmental rigors they were frequently subjected to… or creating.

  Chainmail bikinis. Enchanted with magical auras of protection that would cover their bodies to deflect gncing blows and mitigate direct ones. Presumably also modified somehow to be comfortable, but that wasn’t my particur expertise.

  I shook my head. Each of the tiny carvings was four precisely pced notches. “I’m assuming Paige and I are doing this because you will be working on the Battery project today?”

  “You got it in one, and Amber is helping me. You’re going to save me a ton of work by doing this, a lot of time. Carving nine hundred of those things is the worst part of this project. Even when you’re done, it’ll take me a long time to make sure they’re all properly set, but any bad ones that get integrated into the final project will either weaken the whole structure or open a hole in the protections about the size of a baseball. I’ll add more tricks ter, but there are too many projects in front of me for now to worry about them. While you’re doing this part, I’ll be working on what I hope is the final build of my Greater Masterwork”

  Lucy spoke up from across the table. “Are you absolutely sure you can’t make a chainmail bikini for Jay, too? He should match!”

  Everyone at the table roared with ughter, which only increased when Sarah replied “I could, but he’d break it the first time he looked at the others in theirs!”

  Breakfasts in the Kithkin Cn were a good time. This one, though, was interrupted suddenly by a knock. Now, I’m not one to begrudge a visitor. We’d had a few well-wishers this week, after all. Friends, coworkers, and one fan who managed to track us down to hand-deliver a teddy bear for Nibbles. Knocking was normal. What wasn’t normal was that this came from the balcony window. Exactly one person had any business doing that who wasn’t already seated at the table, and we knew he was on sabbatical visiting family in California.

  The ughter stopped instantly, and I picked up my saber and shield from the nearby equipment closet before answering. The process took perhaps ten seconds, and in that time the others got some of their own equipment to hand. Wands, whips, batons, a pistol. Mental trigger fingers at the ready to unch whatever spell was needed. Another knock came from the balcony, hard enough to rattle the windows in their frames. In a rush, I pulled open the door and dove outside to face what was coming.

  I was not expecting this. The apartment I shared with my Guild was on the sixth floor of the building. An enormous reptilian body was stretched from our balcony to the ground, with room to spare. The knocking had come from one titanic talon banging against our window. A head rge enough to swallow me whole, cd in silvery scales like the rest of its body, was staring at me intently as I braced myself for combat. Huge wings stretched to both sides, easily over a hundred feet across. A Silver Dragon, and not a weak one either. It had the drop on me, my teammates out of range to support, and most of its kind’s many weapons were pointed directly at where I stood.

  Not even the biggest and baddest monsters my Guild had taken down ever had me dead to rights like this.

  The thing was breathing in, only one thing for it if I wanted to survive the next few seconds. Diving left, off the balcony, wings snapping open to catch my descent, scars screaming at me for their sudden mistreatment. A puff of winter breath smmed into the doorway I had just gotten away from, sealing it closed with multiple inches of ice. My heart felt as cold as if I had been in the bst properly. That locked my Guild away from supporting me. I would be facing this threat alone, and I had no illusions about my ability to do so even on my best day.

  Only one way to do this. Banking hard, I beat my wings with all of my strength to unch myself at the face of the threat. I had to end the fight fast. Dragons were powerful, tough, and smart. Especially ones as huge as this one. I had a small amount of resistance to ice, so if it had an aura I should be able to endure it momentarily. Transtion: I needed to get a rapid, lethal strike without hesitation, or it would kill me the second it could isote the threat.

  Its head was only slowly turning to face me, this was the only opportunity I’d get. The Guild Leader’s Saber, gifted to me by Sarah and empowered by a ritual conducted by my full Guild, glowed with white and gold light as I struck with all my might.

  A chiming sound, and my arm felt like it was about to rip out of its socket. Somehow, the Dragon had managed to interpose its cw between my bde and its eye socket, blocking with the much-thicker scales there. I could see a deep scar along where I hit, the mighty saber nearly penetrating entirely through the dragonscale hide, but it did no real damage. Most certainly not a disabling or killing blow like I needed. It wasn’t even roaring, it didn’t even hurt. I was dead. My moment of surprise was gone and wasted, my guildmates would not be able to get to me in time.

  “Are you done panicking?”

  … what? The voice that I heard sounded like an old woman, someone with a few too many miles and experiences behind her. A Southern Belle that long since grew up and seen life go by. Thing is, there wasn’t anyone nearby who could have said that… except the Dragon. That wasn’t a monster. It was a person, a woman who had gotten the form in the Change. Someone who likely had legitimate business with me, and who I had just tried to murder. That might make this awkward. I nded back on my balcony, my heart rate still through the roof, trying to shake off the adrenaline crash. I didn’t sheathe my sword, mostly because I hadn’t had time to even grab the scabbard in the rush. The entire process, from stepping out onto the balcony to nding back on it, had taken perhaps a dozen seconds. “Forgive me, but who are you, and why are you here?”

  “Agent Agnes Fj?ll, Internal Revenue Service.”

  As it turns out, one can have a heart rate of a thousand BPM while ALSO having the floor of one’s stomach fall out. Multitasking. “Is there any reason in particur that the IRS is siccing a Dragon on me?”

  She moved her cw, twisting it to show the deeply scarred scale. “This. You are presently under windfall jurisdiction for actions consistent with high-level Delvers. Traditionally, you bunch get a bit prickly about audits, and most IRS agents don’t get the chance to train Css Levels to the point they can survive, for example, an enchanted saber strike from a panicking Guild Leader.”

  “Alright, fair, but one question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you considered calling ahead?”

  The ice on the balcony door finally cracked, Whitney barging through ready to do violence on our foes and with Paige and the others close behind. They were not, apparently, expecting what they found. Fair’s fair, neither had I. “Whitney, go on back inside. This isn’t a problem that needs smiting. Agnes,” I spoke up so that she’d be able to hear from this distance, “do you have an alternate form that can fit in the apartment, or do I need to hop on a bus to a nearby clearing? The street doesn’t seem like the pce for this kind of conversation.”

  Some ten minutes ter, a woman knocked on our front door. Tall and powerful, scaled in silver and cd in business casual, carrying a briefcase, with the timeless look common to those Races thought to be immortal. Agnes. She looked around at the crowded apartment. “I will admit that this is not what I expected to see. When I have to check on someone, they are usually living in the p of luxury on untaxed windfalls.”

  I shook my head. “If you are here, I’m sure you are in possession of both employment records and saries, plus have seen the videos that have been publicized. Two months ago, my wife and I were barely scraping by. Technically, we haven’t even finished getting ourselves on our own feet yet after all of that. Saving isn’t exactly a priority yet when we don’t even have proper gear for the team.”

  “I also have your crowdfunding numbers. That’s not quite true, and you know it.”

  I shook my head. “My social media managers handle that side of the house. I only see it when things deposit, which isn’t going to happen for a couple of weeks.”

  She started ughing. “Oh, bless your heart, you really don’t know any of this, do you? You’re telling the truth!”

  The others behind me were muttering. I notably did not hear Gloria join them. “I do not make a habit of lying, particurly to federal agents.”

  “Mr. Kithkin, I hope that you understand that you have made my job more pleasant, but about ten times harder. You asked why I didn't call ahead. It’s because that usually results in people packing up everything remotely portable and vanishing, which is annoying even for someone with wings and telescopic vision. You presently need two or three different kinds of wyers and a very good accountant. I’ll help as much as I can.”

  From behind me, Gloria was the first to speak up. “I thought you’d be good with money?”

  The Dragoness lost her mirth rapidly. “I expected better from a Guild of Demons. Do you have any idea how Racist an assumption that is?” Gloria actively paled. She had just seen me utterly fail to harm her despite trying my best. I decided to intervene.

  “Gloria, perhaps you should take today’s patrol. Take Nibbles. The passwords for my accounts are still the same, correct?”

  She was grateful for the out, and took it after a mostly-squeaked “yes.” She scampered after grabbing her bow and basic armor.

  Agnes looked out the door as she left. “Does this happen often?”

  “More than I wished, not as much as I feared. Now, I suppose we should get to business. We have refreshments if you’re hungry or thirsty, you just missed breakfast. Sarah? I won’t be able to help with equipment production until this is completed.”

  Agnes interjected. “You’ll have him after lunch. This isn’t going to be done today. Not remotely. Mr. Kithkin, I’m assuming we just have to go through your intakes and Guild membership? No other surprises coming before April?”

  I thought hard. “Um. One possibility that I know of.” She tilted her head, an oddly reptilian gesture that I was used to seeing from Sarah. “My wife is pregnant, though due to Racial peculiarities the due date is not known. That is a possibility.” I nodded in Lucy’s direction, her smile radiant.

  “Oh, congratutions! And of course you’d add the most complicated possible thing. Come on, let’s get started.” I took her to the sleeping room, pulled out the ptop, and started logging in to the many and various accounts that Chaske and Misun, my subcontracted social media managers, had set up for us.

  The pure dolr numbers blew my mind. So did the deposit totals for Coinage and reagent estimate calcutions. This even counting that most of said materials and coins were being immediately reinvested into equipment for now. Markups and write offs and credits racked up so fast that my head was starting to spin before long. Agnes didn’t let it slow her down. “Alright, here’s the form, in section A we fill in the coinage income, B has the reagent estimates. You can enter an estimated cost projection for each of your Guild members in section F on the back due to being fewer than ten, if you’d had more than that it would have to be a summary by role. Utilizing this formu tool we can estimate your crowdfunded income for section D. Given that you all live in this residence, you can cim it as a Guild House ter. Standard income will be next, the estimated annual professional…”

  It went on and on and on. A hundred ways of asking for what felt like exactly the same data, coming to totals that I was barely able to conceive of. A month and a half ago, I was sying scorpions for copper coins in order to afford the good ramen once or twice a month. What business did I have dealing with numbers that had this many digits? Not only that, but every new entry made the final outcomes dance around WILDLY, in ways that did not feel in any way reted to the reality of any statement I made. I was just hoping I’d have a diaper fund when all was said and done. At least Central Cascadia Hospital offered good insurance pns to its employees and their cohabitants.

  It should say something that I was relieved when my phone’s arm tone sounded off an hour and a half ter. Gloria found trouble, and more of it than she could take on solo. I made a quick apology to Agnes as I closed the computer and ducked out. “Whitney, Emily, Paige, Gloria’s in trouble and we need wings. On me! Lucy, can you help Agnes with what she needs, please?”

  Like earlier, our gear was on us in seconds. Mine took the longest, really, being the only one who wore mail while also being the most heavily scarred one of the response team. This time, we leapt off the balcony as a team and flew in formation. The loadout was heavy on the frontline strikers, but that was fine. We were all mobile. Gloria was about three minutes’ flight away, enough so that I was gd my Hunger reserves were riding as high as they were. I could do this without worrying about running dry.

  The target was thankfully easy to find. A Gate was open, right in the middle of a Western coastal street. Early in the day, too. It was a big one, perhaps double the size of a man, and what was coming out was no tiny Quasit or dog-sized scorpion. No, emerging in a steady procession, one by one every few seconds, were Water Elementals. Vaguely man-shaped masses of swirling waters, eight feet tall and proportioned like a football linebacker. These things were not exactly responsive to typical projectile weaponry. Normal arrows and bullets hit them and found nothing to hurt in their body composition. There were a few of them huddled near the gate, being herded there by a horse-sized Nibbles, empowered by Gloria’s Beastmaster ability.

  Bullets might not bug them, neither might arrows, but getting stabbed by those enormous quills was still plenty to take some of the fight out of them.

  Gloria herself was using her mana pool like there was no tomorrow. While she could not really hurt them directly, she was holding them in pce with her new Pinning Shot and electrifying them with Lightning Nets. I could see her sweating, though. The fight had gone on too long, and she had too little ability to close it out. Our turn.

  “Gloria! From above!” Whitney, Paige, and I dove onto our targets and began attacking them with a will. I held an enchanted weapon, even the Water Elementals couldn’t just ignore it. Whitney and Paige? Well, they just struck hard enough to blow chunks of the monsters’ watery substance out. We could make progress against them, blocking return attacks with heavy gauntlets or conjured shields. The things hit hard, like the crashing waves they embodied. Even so, everything was going just fine. Emily’s ability to siphon off our wounds vastly outpaced their ability to dish them out.

  That is, until Washington State decided to join the fight. It started to rain.

  Here’s the problem with fighting Elementals. When their element is in full presence? They are much, much nastier customers. Our strikes started doing noticeably less damage. They started healing and bouncing back faster. They also started hitting us much, much harder. Enough so that I got knocked back several feet by one. We weren’t keeping up with the spawn rate anymore, our tactics had to change.

  “Get clear!” I dialed in my own Lightning Nets, and as Gloria tossed out the st couple of hers I began throwing a few into the mix. Wherever one of the Water Elementals was pinned, Whitney and Paige could dive in to finish it off. This tactic wouldn’t hold out for long, though. My mana was short, even after I pulled half of my gauntlet’s power into myself. If either hit zero before the Gate closed we’d be in serious trouble.

  Speaking of, this thing was staying open much longer than most. Even if it had opened in front of Gloria, she had to have fought for a few minutes before realizing she was outmatched. Add in travel time, plus what we had been doing here? It might not be setting any records yet, but it was close. Paige was having to utilize her Dance steps to temporarily wipe away our fatigue, even with Emily cleansing our wounds. Even the monsters were on the strong side for ones at this quantity. Even before the rain.

  We were losing ground again. We weren’t able to keep them contained. Each was coming slightly faster than we were able to take down its predecessor, and the more time they spent teamed up the more it took to bring any one of them down. “Shield! Swap to containment! Try to keep them by the gate, we have to let it close or we’ll never get to the end of this stream!”

  Paige yelled back at me. “We can’t risk it! Too close to the waterfront, if one of them makes a break for it they could capsize a ship!”

  She was right. At the same time, though, we were seconds from disaster. Gloria was dry. I was running dry. The frontliners were getting tired, making mistakes. Small ones, but those would snowball. “Whitney, stun them! Paige, dive back!”

  I’d never asked Whitney to do that before. Heck, I hadn’t even known she had the ability until a week ago. Without hesitation, she took an enormous breath in, and unleashed an ear-splitting screech. The thing was loud enough that I could almost see the air ripple, sounding like a train engine overloading at point bnk, and carried with it a mystic stunning force out of proportion to even that detonation of noise. Paige and I were far enough away that it was merely painful. Funny thing about physics? Water conducts sound. The Elementals almost lost coherence in the sonic attack, giving us a chance to clean them up. Problem was that I’d waited too long for the trick. More were still coming, ones not hindered by the bst. The Gate was not sealing.

  From the darkened sky, a ray of hope came like a bolt of lightning. Literally. My hair suddenly stood on end, the air smelled sharply of ozone. All five of my team separately called out warning and dove for cover, praying the soaked ground wouldn’t carry death directly to us. With a fsh and crack-boom that felt like the Earth was being split in two, lightning struck the pack of Elementals at the gate. Suddenly, we were joined by another combatant, standing where the bolt had seemingly deposited him.

  Unassuming in stature, with brown hair and a beard. He was wearing a white shirt and scks, a kippah on his head and four long tassels at the corners of his shirt. I could hear his voice, a song or prayer (if there was a difference), as electricity crackled about his body. “Berak ha’shamayim! Tefit ha’adam!”

  The five of us together had struggled to push the tide of foes back. Guild Leader Marshal Jordan Shapiro, the most powerful Lightning Magus on Earth, had no such issues. Reaching out one hand, he blew the Elementals to oblivion. With a second moment of concentration, another bst flew into the gate itself, and through it. Whatever was hiding there apparently decided this was not worth fighting, assuming it was still there at all, and the gate snapped shut.

  “Guild Leader Kithkin, it is good to see you.” His voice was mild, as though he had not just demonstrated one of the most wildly violent exercises of power humanity was yet capable of. As if he was not being rained on, standing before five exhausted combatants. And their now-shrinking yarrb.

  “Marshal Shapiro, I should be thanking you. This Gate was unusually powerful, it might have ended badly if you had not intervened.”

  “Oh, you were doing quite well for yourself. When I got the alert of a Gate opening nearby and came to investigate, I found you already on the task and chose to observe something you didn’t specifically put up for public consumption. You’d have most likely emerged victorious without my assistance. Where are the rest of your Guild?”

  “We don’t normally hunt as a full pack. They’re at home, sir.” The others here did not quite realize the importance of who I was talking to, though they were fully impressed by his exertion of power. Me calling him “sir,” though, seemed to galvanize them as if they had been the ones struck by lightning.

  Paige in particur looked terrified. “Mr. Shapiro, sir, could we offer a pce to be out of the rain?”

  He chuckled. “No, I’ll be fine as soon as I move. It is fortunate that I came across you all, though. Kithkin. I have a task. Call it a favor.”

  Could I please just go back to being beat up by Water Elementals? That sounded less dangerous by far. “Yes, sir? What do you need?”

  The rain was intensifying, now. The individual sounds of drops striking ground were merging into a staticky roar. “I am given to understand that you have been invited to a meeting. Tomorrow. One at which you will be the only Major Guild representative.”

  “This is correct, sir. I do not know what it is about, or why it has been called, but five different groups extended me invitations. All small guilds.”

  “Yes, that is how I know. One of them put it where I could see it. The attendance list is not a coincidence. I have a problem, Jeremiah. Under my command are several hundred of the most dangerous individuals in the state, and country. Possibly the world. There is trouble brewing not far under the surface. Resentment and stress I cannot easily account for.”

  “We are Delvers, sir. A passionate bunch, not given to hiding our feelings.”

  “All well and good, until expressing such things turns to open warfare at the Camp. You will be my only eyes and ears there. Your task is this. Attend the meeting, and do what you must to ensure that its goals align with my own. Keep the peace, maintain the Hall, and make sure we are able to continue our works. Continue to keep the denizens of the Dungeon where they belong.”

  I swallowed. It was difficult. “Yes sir. I will do my best.”

  “I am not asking for your best, Guild Leader Kithkin. I am demanding the completion of a task.” His stare was unnervingly intense. “This is a necessity. You will succeed in maintaining the peace, or you will likely die in the attempt.”

  “Sir, I…”

  “I am going to make a point. You will not like this point, but I am going to make it anyway. Should war come to my Hall this Sabbath Day, all sides will know you to be a primary target. You often talk about being willing to fight the Hall and all its denizens should you need to. I do not think you wish to test that saying.”