“She wasn’t really my wet nurse. My father picked a duchess, Lady Bamblebunt, who had just given birth to my foster brother Burk Bamblebunt. She had a teet to spare, and mother wasn’t exactly the maternal type.”

  Lozenge Madson, Emperor of Mankind, helped himself to a drink and parked himself gracefully in a leather armchair across from me. The window behind him was filled with a golden sun as it sank towards the horizon, giving him an ethereal halo.

  “Mummy issues?” I asked, causing Roderick to cough into his whisky. The Emperor simply smiled sadly and swirled his own drink lazily in its glass.

  “Not any more.” It felt like there was a story there, but I wasn’t about to pry. That, and Jemima was glaring at me, and despite how pretty she was, her wrath would clearly be epic if I managed to piss this guy off. Hard to say why I cared about that, but I did.

  “My Lord, it has been such an honour to host you today. Perhaps I could arrange some more games in your name? The imperial seal of approval has lapsed, and I’d be delighted to try and win it back.” Turns out voice-over guys can sound like creepy ass kissers as well.

  “Man and beast. Thrown together in a battle for supremacy,” Madson muttered, his eyes fixed on my own. “It’s a little ironic, isn’t it? No, thank you. I’m afraid your business holds no deep interest for me, impresario.” He glanced at the crestfallen arena owner as he finished his sentence.

  “There must be something that drew you to our doors today, Lord?”

  “He did.” When the Emperor points a finger at you, you feel the need to take cover. My inner menagerie was locked in place. This guy had presence. “How are you finding your dual loyalties?”

  “My what?”

  “Shadow and light. Man and monster. A heady mix.”

  I leaned back in my chair for a moment and took stock. I probably shouldn’t try to get away with being glib with this guy. “I don’t understand the full implications. The dragon thing is fine. Give me shinies and don’t try to steal my shit, and I’m golden. The gods… What do you think?”

  He smiled slightly, and Jemima sighed audibly from where she stood at the side of the man. “I won’t bore my old friend with my thoughts on the gods, again.” He reached up and patted Jemima’s hand where it rested on the back of his chair. “But I will say it is unprecedented. The resolution to form a pact centred on a single mortal, while the two sides are destroying my land… I can’t help but think I should be concerned. Hence, my appearance today. I wanted to get a feel for you in person.”

  “The gods have made a pact over you?” Alicya growled.

  “Yeah. Bulb and Denarios. Shinies and the light to see them by,” I muttered.

  “Fucking gods,” she said softly.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” the Madson added. “Humanity could get along quite happily without them.”

  Jemima slapped the Emperor softly on the back of his head. “We need them.”

  “Some of us do. I suspect, like me, Bob is coming to the conclusion that they cause at least as many problems as they solve.” He quirked an eyebrow in my direction.

  “Loonie gave me this curse.” Alicya held out her hairy… paw? Hand? She rotated it slowly. Glaring at her own limb, her lips pulled back into a silent snarl. “I’m trapped.”

  “The moon is a harsh mistress, but she is far from the worst of them. Rapere… he is not a nice god. Insaniatta—”

  “Your father made his choices,” Jemimia interrupted. “No need to air your grievances with these good people.” Her eyes flicked over to Roderick as the Emperor turned to her, and he nodded.

  “True. Perhaps Baron Bob would like to join us in The Palace sometime soon? It would be a pleasure to entertain such a significant figure.” For some reason, I knew that The Palace was capitalised from the way he said it.

  “Thanks? It’s a date.”

  “Hah. You aren’t my type.”

  “I’m married. Er, Emperor?”

  “Lord will do for now, if you must. How does the Shadow feel about your undoing of Dalgliesh?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not like I have them on speed dial. I haven’t spoken to them since they screwed me on the gold for kills.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “What did it change to?” Alicya asked.

  “Why do you care? Do you get evolutions as well?”

  “Yeah. When Loonie enhanced my ‘gift’, I changed from biomass to moonlight.”

  “So you have to dance under the moon?” I asked.

  “Moonbathing. It gets fucking cold in the winter.”

  “Maybe the hairy ni—”

  “Shut up, Bob. What did you get instead?”

  I glanced around. Roddy looked like he was taking mental notes, but the others wore politely blank faces. “I get biomass instead. It’s why I tried not to kill the murder-chickens.”

  “You get too full?” asked Lozenge, leaning forward and staring at me over the glass he held in both hands. The golden frogwork around his sleeves caught the light, mirroring the amber liquid in his cup.

  “Yeah.”

  “Perhaps the gods are sometimes good,” he chuckled, glancing up at his beautiful assistant.

  “We don’t need to understand them, so it can often look the other way,” Jemima affirmed.

  “It’s not good for me,” I complained, not liking the edge of whine in my voice. “I’ve got a dance card for a battle soon, and I can’t just strafe the baddies from the air anymore.”

  “Who are the baddies now? You have a foot in both camps,” Jemima asked.

  “The bloody Jedi haven’t tried to take my towns or nick access to my portal network.”

  “Jedi?” Lozenge asked.

  “The light side,” I replied with a sigh.

  “They will. Sooner or later. Gods and their followers are just as fickle as each other.”

  “You’re the emperor, and you’re some kind of militant atheist? In a world where the gods can literally pop in whenever they like.”

  “I do not deny their existence, Bob. Merely the benefits they offer to my species.”

  “His Imperial Majesty is impartial and pays all the gods the respect they are due,” Jemima added hurriedly.

  “Kat always slaps me when I talk shit about the gods or IMPS,” I commiserated with Lozenge. “I’m glad I don’t have balls as a dragon.”

  “I pay them what they are due. As a dragon, you should appreciate that?” The Madson’s eyes were like flint.

  “Sure. There’s always a price, though.” I waved an arm that trailed sparkles.

  “Exactly.” His voice was bitter.

  “Roderick, perhaps you and I could step outside? I’d love to go for a short tour of your arena while our friend waits for his cut of the bookies' take?” Jemima stepped around behind Lozenge's chair and offered a hand to the arena owner.

  He rose hesitantly, glanced at us all, then took her hand and headed for the door. Jemima made cheerful small talk, mixing in flattery and probing questions about the man that encouraged him to talk himself up.

  As the door swung closed behind them, Lozenge snorted. “Poor man. He’s a mouse before her cobra. So, Bob, why aren’t you taking more territory?”

  The sudden shift in conversation took me aback. “Do you have any idea how annoying it is to manage a town?” He smiled wryly as Alicya gave a doggy-chuff of amusement. “Of course you do. I’ve only got one Kat. Most of my other minions are useless at management. I bet you’ve got an army of bureaucrats.”

  “I would like to meet this Ekaterina. She made a strong impression on Jem. Have you considered reaching out to she who must be blessed in triplicate?”

  “Karen doesn’t like me. I… killed one of her priestesses.”

  “That is never a wise move. Whatever possessed you?” Alicya asked.

  “The blo—system spawned her as a floor boss when I was just starting out. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Well, I understand a formidable follower of she-of-the-many-stamps will be on the market for a new job sometime soon. You’ve met her. Mrs Sanderson?”

  “That harpy?”

  “Indeed,” he chuckled.

  “But she works for… Is Dalgliesh really in that much trouble?”

  “What would happen to you if you lost your pixie friend?”

  “Um… Paperwork? Other minions would stop spending all their salary on the dick-shields Tim has been churning out? Well, Except for Inedible-Reg. He likes it when Kat gets angry at him.”

  “What an odd fellow. My point was that without Big Kenny, Dalgliesh is extremely vulnerable. You thought it would take time? After your little announcement? Well, it won’t. The old lion has lost his fangs, and the pride will quickly replace him.”

  “Good. Not that I set out to do that.” I glanced around nervously, expecting IMPS to punish me for breaking the spirit, if not the letter, of our contract. When nothing happened, I sighed in relief.

  “Learning to get around the vagaries of the system’s code of ethical enforcement is a fine art. You came very close to crossing that line, I think. But whether through luck or favouritism, you seem to have gotten away with it. Have you ever thought about taking a place at Court?”

  “I’m already a noble.”

  “There are nobles, and then there are courtiers. The latter are far more influential,” he said. “I’d love to have you at court.”

  “We already discussed that I’m not that way out, dude.”

  “Wha–Courtier, Bob. Not courtesan. We don’t have much of a diplomatic corps. At least, not an international one.”

  “But—”

  “Internally, the nobles rule their fiefdoms and negotiate amongst themselves. They don’t like living under the threat of my immortals, but it keeps them honest, most of the time. However, the neighbouring kingdoms… A handful of my own nobles have arrangements with the dwarves and the elves, but the imperial court does not. I would like to change that.”

  “But you all hate each other? You haven’t let someone like me into the nobility for centuries, and I’m mostly human. Sometimes.”

  “It’s those other times that will make you the perfect emissary. I understand you have already established good relations with at least one clan of dwarves and the elves of the Silverbark.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come, Bob. I don’t have international diplomats. I have plenty of spies. You should meet my spykeeper. I think you’d like her. But the long ears and the stunties are not my primary concern at the moment. How much of Helstat have you explored?”

  “I don’t know. A fair bit.”

  “I’ve been everywhere. I’ve been around a while,” Alicya offered.

  “Even the Brokebone Islands?”

  Alicya couldn’t go pale, but her whiskers flicked back and forth for a few seconds. “They never sail north,” she hissed.

  “And they haven’t yet. But the Mages Guild has been scrying, and it looks like trouble is on the horizon. We are sadly engaged in a civil war.” He shot me a brief glare. “The Skeldrak cannot be permitted to invade, and they won’t listen to a human. They just eat us.” Lozenge shrugged.

  “What the hell is a Skeldrak, and how much should I charge you to care?”