Clutter reluctantly glances at the hall. His tail falls to the ground, immobile, as the squelching strikes of bone chunks in meat slipping from the walls punctuates the silence.

  “I don’t want to be here.” He mumbles quietly. “But if we’re going to stay here, we shouldn't stay in one place. That’s how we get attacked.”

  Pearl nods. “Agreed. I’ll be on lookout from now on, so you two just focus on staying safe. And Shelby?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “Yell at Clutter to look at the things if they show up. He can phase them into something else for some reason, so don’t forget to take advantage of that.”

  “I’ll try to remember.” I say as I summon another projectile. “Let’s go.”

  Clutter burst off at full-throttle. For a second I want to yell at him to slow down, but the visceral memory of the taps spurs my body to motion. I catch up to him easily, and it’s back to running just like a few hours ago. Every dozen or so minutes another tap scrapes down my spine, but with adrenaline-fueled reflexes and my awareness screaming danger at me, I turn Clutter on each of the things before my heart can burst from their vile magic.

  One by one, they burst into chunks of meat. Little by little, I dip into an ever-dwindling pool of Worth to deal with them. Obliterating them does nothing to give me more Worth, so their materials must be completely worthless in the first place. Meaning now it’s time for Clutter to give it a try.

  I close my fist around a readied coin and raise my chin at him. “You’re getting the next one that appears in front of us. Be ready.”

  He stiffens and nods seriously. A spell drifts off his fur like globs of pitch-black oil in water, and his form flickers in and out of visibility. Something’s different from the last few times he went invisible, but… he looks as confident as he can be. Must be a new spell I haven’t seen yet.

  TAPTAP.

  My jaw clenches for the split second the taps split the air. Two twisted paindne appear in front of us directly in Clutter’s line of sight so they never actually appear as the mutilated things. Clutter crouches down ever so slightly, splays his fingers wide, and takes a deep breath to steady his obvious nerves.

  Flickering, inky darkness overtakes him. For a moment it stains his entire form in a perfectly equal black, like a shadow standing upright, and then he disappears from view. My awareness catches for a second, not quite sure where he is. A soft, guttural breath cuts through the noise as I sense him further up.

  His every movement twitches with deadly efficiency; legs tensing, head lowering, tail silently swishing through the air as if helping propel him at the twisted paindne. Everything about him screams predatory intent. He bears his teeth, takes aim, and lunges at the closest enemy.

  The dark shadow that is Clutter topples the paindne like a sack of oranges. Before the thing can even react, Clutter sinks his teeth into its neck and tears mercilessly. Sputtering, inhuman noises fly from the twisted paindne’s mouth as it rains a flurry of desperate blows down on Clutter’s back, but they smack harmlessly against the shadowy coating. He spits out whatever was in his mouth, then raises a hand and sinks his claws deep into the wound.

  Twitching, twitches, nothing. With a wet squelch and a flesh-coated thump, the twisted paindne’s head rolls to a stop as off-coloured blood leaks free from both halves of a fresh neck stump. Clutter flicks the blood from his claws and turns to the next paindne, who is already mid-lunge. He yelps in surprise as the mass of flesh careens into him, bringing him down to the ground with a resounding impact as he struggles to keep his head from smashing to the floor.

  Fervor and mindless aggression seep from the twisted paindne as it rains hell down on Clutter. Teeth, fists, claws, and whatever else it can use to hit him all join together to batter the shadowy shroud of invisibility from him. He grimaces and tries to get his hands up to stoop at least one thing, but the painless ferocity of the twisted paindne makes it impossible.

  He turns to me, invisibility fading by the second. “Help me! Please!”

  I switch my projectile for a shield. A flick sends it directly between Clutter and the twisted paindne, and a thought blooms it into a series of hexagonal plates that push the monster away from my friend. He scurries away on hands and knees, eyes wide with fear and chest visibly heaving with every breath. I raise my hand, projectile slipping from between my fingers to the top of my thumb. But Clutter doesn’t fall back. He doesn’t even notice the coin in my hand.

  Because he’s already half-composed and trying to get the black shroud up again. From the looks of it, though, it isn’t going well.

  “Come on… work!” He grimaces and smacks his chest with his fist. “It just worked a second ago. What’s wrong now?!”

  “Something wrong?” Pearl asks seriously. “Is this new to you?”

  “It isn’t… new. Dang it.” Clutter quietly exclaims, then disappears with a wave of his hand. But it isn’t the improved invisibility–it’s the one I’m used to. “I’ll tell you all about it in a second.”

  He sprints at the twisted paindne, but it snaps to look at him and charges right back. A bloody fistfight ensues, but from moment one, it’s obvious that the twisted paindne only has momentum on its side. Even still, it’s hard to watch my friend get repeatedly smashed in the face and not intervene.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Should we… do something?” Pearl whispers. “He’s going to win, but I don’t know what kind of shape he’s going to be in after.”

  Something makes me shake my head. “I think… his pride will take a much bigger hit if I go in and save him.”

  Pearl winces and looks away as the thing bites down on Clutter’s shoulder. “I know you’re right, but this is still really hard to watch. Does he actually have no way of running away to regroup? That’s what our ambush fighters used to do when the enemy started to rally.”

  “Looking at him, no. I don’t think he’s used to fighting. At all.”

  I grimace as Clutter grabs the thing’s jaw and rips it open, splattering the ground with pointless shards of tooth and bone. Thanks to the random placement of the teeth and lack of jaw strength his neck is left graciously un-ripped, and he goes in for a vicious counter-bite that seals the deal. It still takes almost a damn minute for him to finish it off, but eventually, he walks away victorious. Battered, sliced to hell, and struggling to breathe, but victorious nonetheless.

  He smiles weakly. “I did it.”

  “Yeah. You did. But you almost died to two of them.” I walk up to him and wipe some blood off from above his right eye. “Whatever you did to that first one was great. But then you got distracted and let the second one beat the hell out of you. What happened?”

  “U-um, it’s a spell…” He trails off guiltily.

  I shake my head. “No, not that. You had the upper hand, but then you just threw it away instead of doing… anything else. Seriously; do you have any combat training at all? I only had, like, a week with Illumisia and a little with Ursula and I’m pretty confident I could beat you hand-to-hand.”

  “...Oh.” He glances around, as if anyone would overhear us, then looks up at the ceiling. “If we’re going to talk, we should go up. It’s safer there.”

  “Nope. I’ll get the next ones.” I pat him insistently on the shoulder and gently urge him onwards. “You went at them straight-on. Didn’t even try to get behind them for the extra surprise factor. But you did go at the constructs from behind when you fought them. So? What’s the deal?”

  Clutter swallows hard and avoids my gaze. “It’s because I’m… strong enough?”

  I barely manage to stifle a snort. “Excuse me?”

  “When I do the… thing… I’m strong enough that I don't have to attack from behind.” he repeats, but it doesn’t make any more sense the second time. “That way I don’t have to be cowardly when I fight.”

  Pearl doesn’t bother stifling her laugh of disbelief. “Cowardly? When you’re putting your life on the line, there’s no such thing as cowardice. Just different levels of how much you’re willing to risk your own life for the sake of something else.”

  “Really? So what would you call me leaving Briony to fight the plastic mass because I was scared?” Clutter winces at the memory, blood slowly dripping from his dozens of wounds. “I was a coward. It got people hurt. If I can, I’m never going to fight–or run from a fight–like a coward again.”

  “And somehow you think running straight at paindne flesh-sacks is the opposite of cowardice.” Pearl sighs and shakes her head. “You’ve got some twisted ideas of what’s what. But you didn’t answer Shelby’s question–did you actually have any combat training?”

  Clutter’s face strangely contorts as he hisses through the side of his mouth. “Kind of? It’s a long story, but I wasn’t supposed to get my scout Class. Not the entire thing at once, that’s for sure. It’s why Briony and Vesa were looking for me–I’m kind of not supposed to be… well… this.”

  He gestures at all of himself with a bitter expression. There’s a level of self-disdain there that sort of hurts to see, what with how he’s normally so bright to be around.

  “And what does that mean?” Pearl snaps, startling Clutter so badly that he almost slips on a chunk of neck. “You aren’t something to be ashamed of. Never, ever think that we aren’t better off with you around!”

  Clutter blinks in surprise, then blushes and looks away. “I’m nothing special.”

  “You don’t have to be special. You’re you.” Pearl states assertively. “We need a scout. Whether you think you’re qualified, deserving, or whatever else of being that scout–we want you to be ours. Right, Shelby?”

  I nod in agreement. Though I’m a little surprised Pearl is getting so emotional about this–maybe it struck a nerve that nothing else did. Or maybe she got a little more invested in Clutter since we talked about letting him go in the graveyard. Kind of like I have.

  “Buddy, you’re stuck with us, not the other way around.” I grin and pat him on the back. He grunts quietly, but cracks the shortest smile. “If you’re not confident in being a scout, I’m sure we can find someone to help teach you the ins and outs of it. And if you’re actually going to fight, I’ve gotta reiterate that you’re infinitely more… more…”

  I purse my lips as words swirl around in my head. Clutter stares at me with wide eyes, waiting with rapt attention on my next words. ‘Useful’ doesn’t feel right. Too diminutive, and a little drill-sergeant-esque. ‘Strong’ doesn’t quite get it through, either. The image of him cloaked in flickering shadows jumps to mind, and with it comes the right word.

  “Dangerous. You’re infinitely more dangerous when nobody sees you coming.” I give him a vicious grin full of teeth. He doesn’t flinch away. “I’m the biggest beacon of distracting energy you can hope for. Use that to slip away and take out a dangerous enemy, or gather useful info, or set up a distraction to confuse them. Then slip away unharmed and do it again when they lose you.”

  He raises a hand to the shallow cuts on his neck. “But I’m not scared of getting hurt. Or getting bloody. You saw me fight–I can do it. I don’t have to fight or run like a coward. I can be on the frontlines with you.”

  Pearl snorts in amusement. I lift an eyebrow in confusion. “Clutter, I’m a dogshit frontline fighter. Now Ursula–she could take an army on by wading into the thick of it. The only reason I fight at close range so much is because the things I fight keep rushing me, and we don’t have someone who’s enough of a threat to let me safely make and maintain space.”

  “Who taught you that?” Pearl asks sarcastically.

  “I’m good at putting bullshit experiences into useful words.” I reply with a roll of my eyes. “Or maybe it’s that I’m constantly experiencing things from all directions, and I actually internalize those experiences. But you, Clutter–as long as you have me, you don’t need to risk drawn out fights. I can help you get away, and you can draw a shit ton of the attention away from me.”

  He doesn’t seem convinced, but there’s a little less self-doubt in his eyes. If I can actually show him how useful a dangerous assassin and some battlefield info can be, I’m sure I can get him to stop worrying about being a coward. Or being useful. I kick aside a chunk of meat as I open my mouth to speak again, but slowly close it again as I focus on something in my awareness. We’ve been walking for a good minute since Clutter killed those things.

  The gore shouldn’t be anywhere close to us.