“You’re sick?” Damian echoed, still struggling to process the words.

  “Yeah, it’s… well, I could try to explain, but it doesn’t really matter,” Konrad said. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s gonna start affecting me soon, or so the doctor says. I’ll get tired, muscle pains, and allat. Apparently, it’s something I was born with. Shit luck of the draw. Imagine that.”

  Standing from the bed, Damian crossed the room toward Konrad, unsure what his purpose was until he got there. Leaning over, he put his arms around Konrad’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

  For a moment, Konrad didn’t move, and Damian worried he’d crossed a line. Then Konrad sighed, putting his arms around Damian in turn and squeezing. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m twice dead, remember?”

  With a start, Damian pulled back, holding Konrad’s shoulders at arm’s length as a fire lit in him. “Don’t say that. We live in a world with magic and gods and the Game. Who knows what could happen? And you have a weird class—that has to be worth something.”

  His face twisted into a smile, indulgent and unconvinced.

  “No,” Damian whispered, his own expression growing sterner. “Don’t do that. You can’t give up on yourself. You’re worth more than that. I can help you, but not if you refuse to help yourself. Just… you can’t give up on yourself.”

  Konrad just stared at him for a second, and Damian couldn’t parse what was going on behind his eyes. Then he hummed. “Want to get some air? I wanna show you something.”

  It was not at all what Damian expected. With a confused look, he straightened from the leaned-over position he’d been in to hold Konrad’s shoulders. His eyes flicked to the bowl of dough in the background. “What about the noodles?”

  “Very pragmatic,” Konrad teased lightly. Then he waved a hand dismissively, standing himself. “I’ll put them in the preservation cupboard; they’ll be fine. We can buy some street food. Let’s go.”

  Damian took a minute to make sure all his stuff was in order, checking his head wound—which felt fine—and securing his bag. In that time, Konrad stored the dough, then reached into his own bag of holding and offered Damian a small vial. It was the stabilizing potion the [Nurse] had offered. With a nod, Damian put it in his own bag.

  On the street, Konrad started walking them vaguely in the direction of the Grand Bazaar, but not quite directly there. After a minute, he flipped around and started walking backward so he could face Damian while they moved. It gave Damian a little anxiety, considering how packed the walkway was, but Konrad seemed to be able to navigate just fine, somehow.

  “Got any preferences for food?”

  “Erm… not noodles?” Damian said, unsure what he was interested in. The whole talking-about-dying thing had sort of killed his appetite.

  Konrad chuckled, turning back around again. They stopped a few minutes later at a stand selling meat-stuffed buns, and Konrad bought every bun the vendor had prepared, which was several dozen. Damian was going to pay for his own, but Konrad looked mildly insulted at the attempt and covered them both, handing Damian three and stuffing all but three of the remainder into his bag of holding. It was pretty good, with an airy dough and a rich, savory, well-spiced filling. Pork, if Damian had to guess.

  “Where are we going?” Damian asked, licking his fingers after stuffing the second of his buns into his mouth.

  Konrad pointed ahead of them, waiting to answer until he was done chewing. “An orphanage. Specifically, where I grew up.”

  “Oh,” Damian said, perking up. Maybe if he paid attention, he could use this to turn around Konrad’s attitude. Or maybe that was Konrad’s plan too.

  By the time they made it to the front of the orphanage, Damian was just finishing his last bun. The building was five stories tall, slightly short for this part of town, but wider than most of the other buildings they’d passed by. It also had a small yard, which was practically unseen in the city. To Damian, a patch of grass he could cross in ten steps was nothing, but in the context of Jahrmarkt, it was the most green he’d seen since he got here. But it was cut off from the street by a hip-high stone wall and a fence made of metal bars.

  Damian wondered who wasted that much metal just to make a fence.

  “Come on,” Konrad urged, pushing against the metal gate and swinging it open easily.

  That made Damian do a double take. Forget wasting metal on the fence—what was even the point if the gate was unlocked? Casting the errant thought from his mind, Damian followed Konrad in. By now, it was nearly midday, and Damian felt the warmth of the city and sun give way to a slightly uncomfortable chill as they passed through the threshold of the building. It was dim, with white mage lights providing the only light in the dark stone hallway.

  “This place was made for kids?” Damian asked in a low voice.

  Konrad gave Damian a sideways glance. “Yeah. Or at least, it’s where the forgotten children end up.”

  With that cheery sentence, Konrad pushed through the first door on the left, walking them into what looked to Damian like a reception room. It had chairs around one half of the room, the half with windows to the small front yard. The other half had a large desk, behind which sat a plump woman with a whole lot of hair somehow precariously balanced atop her head. When her eyes met Konrad, her entire face and posture lit up.

  “Konrad!” she said eagerly, standing. “Oh my Word, it’s so good to see you! It’s been too long. Come, come.”

  Rounding the desk, she quickly stepped up to Konrad and pulled him into a hug. It only lasted a brief moment, however, before she pulled away and gave Konrad a critical look. “Not getting into any trouble, are you?”

  “Me? Trouble?” Konrad said mischievously. “Never. How are things? Funding coming through?”

  The woman’s face soured. “Tch, you know how it is. Always too many mouths to feed, too few hands offering bread. The Word says it’s the righteous thing to give to those in need, but it also says it’s righteous to build your own wealth. Same old, same old—people always taking care of themselves.”

  Konrad didn’t grace that with a response, just offering an awkward smile.

  “Ah, who’s your friend?” the woman asked, turning her attention on Damian.

  “Oh,” Konrad said, his smile widening into something real as he turned toward Damian. “This is Damian, a new friend. He had a unique community upbringing and was interested in potentially donating to the orphanage, so I figured I’d give him the tour. If that’s okay?”

  “Of course, honey,” the woman said with a bright smile. Then she walked up to Damian and smiled at him. “Welcome to Saint Meridith’s! I do hope you choose to donate. Every copper keeps someone fed.”

  “I... probably will,” Damian said, not really sure what he was supposed to say.

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  Konrad grabbed him by the shoulders, steering him back out of the room. “Well, thanks, Emma. I’ll stop back in on my way out!”

  Emma waved cheerily as they quickly exited the room. As soon as the door closed, Konrad deflated a bit, offering Damian a grin. “Sorry about that. She’s a bit over the top. Did her skills get you too bad?”

  “Her skills?” Damian asked.

  Konrad frowned. “Oh, maybe she didn’t use them. She’s got skills that help convince people to donate or do what she says. Ah, she might be trying not to get on my nerves by not using them on you.”

  The idea of someone using skills on him to make him think or feel a certain way made Damian’s skin crawl. It was too close to the [Call To Revel] or the [Merchant] skills that had been used on him before. He was glad Emma hadn’t used anything like that on him.

  “I don’t think I like those kinds of skills,” Damian muttered.

  Smartly, Konrad didn’t respond to that, besides a glance.

  They skipped the next set of doors, but Konrad paused at the third set and opened one of them to reveal a long room full of beds and dressers. Only two mage lights lit the entire room, and it was even dimmer than the hallway. It was dark, cold, and strangely… sterile. Not just clean, but perfectly clean in a disturbing way.

  “These are the dorms,” Konrad explained.

  Damian rubbed at his arms as goosebumps began to form. He hadn’t dressed for this cold. “They’re... um...”

  “Awful?” Konrad offered.

  “Yeah,” Damian agreed. “Not great.”

  Konrad snorted. “Yeah. C’mon, let’s go see the classrooms. Should be wrapping up with morning classes any minute now.”

  Damian quickly discovered the bottom floor was devoted to living dorms for the children and the caretakers, as well as the eating hall. The upper floors were more dorms and classrooms. At the back of the building was a stairway, which they took to the third floor. By the time they made it to the landing, Damian was panting just slightly.

  “Do you ever get used to all the stairs?” Damian asked as he caught his breath.

  That earned Damian a chuckle from Konrad. “Didn’t have to get used to them. I grew up here, remember? But I’d bet you’d get used to it eventually.”

  Though all the stairs were weird to him, Damian would’ve liked to live in a world where getting used to the stairs was the height of his concerns.

  “Are you sure we can just barge into a class?” Damian asked as Konrad took them to one of the doors. He could hear someone speaking behind the wood.

  “Well, we aren’t going to barge in,” Konrad clarified. “Just poke our heads in. Besides, they really should be out any minute now.”

  Before Damian could argue the point, Konrad opened the door a crack, and Damian quickly shut his mouth so as not to draw more attention to them. Inside the classroom, there was more light than in the dim hallways. Large windows let the midday sun pour into the room, giving it an almost homey feel compared to the rest of the building. Small wooden desks were placed in neat rows, each one with a thin teenager paying a varying degree of attention to the front of the room. Someone was up front speaking to them, but the door blocked Damian’s view.

  “—to provide services to the community is a virtue, as only through the sacrifice of the individual might the enrichment of all be done. Inversely, it is a virtue to enrich one’s own circumstances, as by bettering one’s own resources one can better contribute to the collective.” The voice was sharp, delivering each word with the certainty only gained by significant practice. “In this way, what can we determine to be a sin in the Word?”

  Half a dozen hands went up around the room, and then one spoke from some cue Damian couldn’t see. “Sloth, sir.”

  “Indeed,” the voice agreed coldly. “Though all people need vices, as we are not made as perfect as the divine, all should strive to rely on them as little as possible to best use their time for the betterment of their situation. It is through this simple directive that Marduk guides his followers to achieve their best selves. Let not a single moment go wasted when you could be making the world a better place. By his Word.”

  “By his Word,” the classroom echoed back at the [Teacher].

  There was a short pause, then the [Teacher] cleared his throat. “Remember, children, today’s act of service will be mucking the sewers. Please be changed into your work clothes and assembled by the top of the hour. Class dismissed.”

  Act of service? Mucking the sewers? Damian didn’t know what a sewer was, but the only context he had for the word mucking was mucking out a barn. Was a sewer like the city version of a barn?

  He didn’t have much time to ponder the question as the children practically exploded out of their desks and hurtled themselves toward the door. Konrad grabbed Damian by the tunic and pulled him out of the way as the children streamed from the room. All up and down the hall, doors were thrown open, and a deluge of children swarmed into the hallway. A not small number of them seemed to recognize Konrad, lighting up and waving at him.

  “You gonna be at the cafeteria?” one asked, resisting the pull of the others for a moment to speak with Konrad.

  Konrad shooed them away. “Yes, yes, go eat!”

  Damian couldn’t help but smile at all the young faces as they scrambled for the stairs to get to the… cafeteria? He reasoned that must be what they called their eating hall. Most of the children seemed to be between the ages of nine and sixteen, with the oldest looking just about Damian’s age. It stood to reason they’d age out when they turned sixteen. As sixteen was when the Great Game first visits you, it was also when someone was considered an adult—at least in Bekham, and most other places, according to Damian’s parents.

  Again, the memory of home clutched Damian’s heart like a hand made of ice, but he didn’t have long to dwell on it before his attention was drawn by the sharp voice of the [Teacher].

  “I know that voice,” it said, and Damian turned to see a tall, thin man with a sharply tapered beard and a bald head standing in the doorway. His beard was black, with the first streaks of the gray of old age sneaking in, and his face was just barely starting to wrinkle. “The generous troublemaker returns.”

  “Mr. Schneider,” Konrad said, his face going flat.

  For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Then Mr. Schneider sneered, lifting his chin and staring down his long, sharp nose at Konrad. “Still in with the wrong crowd? And keeping… interesting company, I see.”

  Konrad bristled. “Yeah, no. Fuck you. Keep him out of this. Let’s go, Damian.”

  Damian was caught too off guard to respond with his own snide comment, but he was thinking about it as Konrad waded into the tide of children, dragging Damian along with him. They didn’t make it far enough to avoid one more comment from the [Teacher]. “Perhaps if you didn’t spit in the face of the Word, you would not be punished so! It’s just a shame about your health. Broke my heart to hear the news.”

  Freezing in the middle of the hallway, Konrad stood there for a moment, letting the kids stream around him. Damian licked his lips nervously, not sure exactly what kind of reaction to expect from him. Surely, it wouldn’t be too rash. Not in the orphanage he grew up in.

  He waited for the children to finish filing into the stairway, and every moment that passed made Damian more and more anxious. When the last teen disappeared through the doorway, Konrad slowly turned to face Mr. Schneider, who was still standing there, looking down his nose at them. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and then suddenly, Konrad forced a smile.

  “How’s your wife, Mr. Schneider?” he asked in a controlled tone. “Still fucking the [Sailor]?”

  The thin man’s face darkened like a storm cloud, and Damian squeezed Konrad’s arm in concern. He took just a step toward them, but Konrad didn’t flinch, so neither did Damian. It was only one step before the man seemed to pause and reconsider.

  Mr. Schneider flashed a blindingly white smile. “Actually, I took a new wife recently. I’m surprised you don’t know. Some friend that makes you—you remember Ida, don’t you?”

  Konrad’s chin hardened as he ground his teeth together.

  “Um... maybe we should go?” Damian said tentatively, pulling on Konrad’s arm.

  For a second, Konrad resisted. Then he nodded stiffly. “We should.”

  Much to Damian’s surprise, both parties seemed willing to disengage, and in a dozen steps, they were back in the doorway. Konrad’s carefully manicured facade cracked then, and he started breathing heavily as they descended. It was like he’d run a marathon or something.

  On the second-floor landing, Damian stopped Konrad, and Konrad gave him a wild, questioning look. “What?”

  “Are you okay?” Damian asked. “What... what was that?”

  For a moment, Konrad just stared at him. Then he let out a long, slow breath. “That was... one of my teachers. He’s a cruel son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that,” Damian said, putting a hand on Konrad’s chest when he tried to push past him again. “Is that… normal?”

  Konrad’s face twisted into a grimace. “More normal than not. Can we go? I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Yeah… yeah, we can go,” Damian relented, letting Konrad lead the way down to the first floor. As they walked, he asked the other question on his mind. “Also, who’s Ida?”

  The question made Konrad stumble, nearly missing a step and sending him tumbling down the stairs. Luckily, he caught himself, but his shoulders hunched, and he didn’t turn to face Damian when he answered. Damian had to strain his ears to hear what he said, and the answer made his blood chill.

  “I grew up with her,” Konrad said in a voice that betrayed so much more emotion than he was showing. “You could’ve called us siblings, once.”