I’m glad to be home. Glad to be done with the soft idiots who pass for guild members these days. After two straight days in the tunnels, I’m sweaty and dirty from the hiking and digging. I’m tired, and more than that, I’m irritated and disgusted because the team we rescued made poor choice after poor choice and ended up with empty hands to show for it. If they’d run into a nest of ratlings in an unexpected location, I could have some sympathy for them.

Instead, they’d eaten mushrooms they’d found in the tunnels and ended up injuring themselves. They’d used a rescue signal stone for no reason and wasted our time.

I know I’m not the only Taurian who feels that way. Raptor, myself, and a big older bull named Osprey went down to retrieve the team, because a sacred five isn’t needed for a rescue party, it seems. We were all three in a foul mood when we left, and are in an even worse one now as we head through the cobbled streets on the way home, our guild pay for the retrieval mission jingling in our pockets.

The three of us pause at an intersection, the general guild housing the next street over. Across from us is a popular pub frequented by the guild members, and it’s packed to the gills with human men laughing and drinking and having a great time.

“Idiots,” Raptor mutters, shifting on his feet, his hand on the strap of his pack. “Ten crowns says that our ‘team’ is going to head straight for the bar once the healers are done with them. They won’t learn a thing.”

“Do they ever?” Osprey harrumphs. “Whoever’s in charge of the guild criteria for testing is clearly on the take. In my day, these fools wouldn’t ever leave the training grounds, much less head into danger. Mushrooms, of all things.” He shakes his shaggy head. “Insanity.”

“At least we get paid,” I say, like I always do. Normally it appeases me, knowing that the extra funding is going to a good cause, another step toward repaying my debt to the guild. Today, though, it just makes me bitter, because I know in another few weeks, I’m going to be back in the same tunnels, retrieving the same idiots…and the guild thinks a few coins tossed our way makes everything better and excuses poor behavior.

But no one ever asks Taurians what they think of things.

Before I let that path of thinking sour me, I adjust my pack against my shoulder. “I should get home. New wife and all that.”

Strangely, just thinking about Aspeth waiting for me is pleasing to think about. She’ll be in bed, no doubt snoring that little feminine snore of hers, her mouth slightly open. She’ll fuss at me over training, because she likes to fuss and protest. I’ll bathe…and maybe she’ll give my cock that intense stare again, squinting at it as if she’s never seen anything like it before and flattering my ego.

“So you decided to stay after all?” Raptor asks me, pausing. When I nod, he claps me on the shoulder. “Can’t decide if you’re an idiot or brilliant for taking a wife to handle the Conquest Moon, but I’m leaning toward idiot.”

“Definite idiot,” Osprey agrees.

“Thanks.”

Raptor glances up at the sky. “Moon’s gonna be ripe in another three weeks. Gonna be some kind of hell on the lead-up. Maybe a wife is smart after all.”

“I’m heading back to my village,” Osprey says. “Lots of eager widows looking for a few nights of fun and not much else. If you change your mind, you can come with,” he tells me. “I leave in three days.”

I nod, though I know I won’t take him up on the offer. “Appreciate it.”

“I leave tomorrow,” Raptor says. “Take some time off. My Five fell apart, so it’s a good break for me before returning to work once Lord Dipshit finds more for the team. I’ll be back in time for the fledgling tests later this year, since we all know what a fuck-storm that will be.”

I’m trying not to think about it, but he’s not wrong. To pass the guild test, every person must take part in both a team exercise and an individual one. For the team exercise, every Five has to make a quick trip to the tunnels to retrieve an artifact placed there by guild masters, or to find a brand-new one. Those who pass both their tests return and celebrate their inclusion in the guild. Those who fail are fished out quickly (if they’re alive) or slowly (if they’re not), and it falls to the guild’s Taurians to clean things up. Individual tests are usually tailored to the student’s particular weaknesses, which is why I have to push Aspeth so hard. She can’t stay soft and naive, not if she expects to become a guild artificer.

We’re months away from anything like that, however.

“I’ll see you when you return,” I tell my friends.

We part and I make the brief trek back to Magpie’s dorm, my thoughts full of Aspeth. Is it weird that I just want to sniff her? To breathe in her scent and let it wash over me? I’m sure it’s the Conquest Moon making me obsess over a woman’s scent, but I imagine what she smells like when she’s aroused, and the thought of it makes my cock stiffen.

Definitely the Conquest Moon. I surreptitiously adjust my cock so walking home isn’t quite so difficult.

The moment I step inside the dorm, though, all is chaos. There’s shouting in the kitchen, and equipment is strewn all over the entryway to the house. I step over it, heading toward the source of the noise. The kitchen is even messier than outside. Magpie is by the stove, trying to pull a too-tight guild blouse over her chemise. Lark is stabbing a wheel of cheese into small chunks with her sword, Mereden is crying and packing the cheese chunks into small pouches, and the slitherskin is trying to pull a too-large jar off a shelf, three other broken ones near his feet. Gwenna is shouting at Magpie, who looks as if her head is about to split open.

I’m also pretty sure every weapon from the practice room is on the table. “What happened? Where’s Aspeth?”

Mereden bursts into fresh tears.

Gwenna storms across the room toward me, her expression one of pure fire. “You! High time you showed up. You think you can just gallivant off and leave us behind?”

I arch a brow at her. “I was on a rescue mission. I left a message with Aspeth.”

“Yes, well, we need you more than anyone else does.” She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Now that you’re here, you need to go and save Aspeth before they torture her for information!”

“No one’s torturing anyone,” Magpie declares. “I’ve said that twice now. Can someone help me with my sleeve?”

Gwenna scowls at her and doesn’t move to help. No one does. Instead, Gwenna turns back to me. “This is all your fault,” she hisses. “If you hadn’t left, Aspeth wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Her anger—as well as my own fatigue—make me unpleasant. I lean in, looming over her. “You want to tell me exactly what mess it is I’m supposed to be responsible for?”

She leans back, but only a little, her expression remaining fierce. “We were playing some sort of artifact game against the other teams of fledglings and they decided that Aspeth was cheating. They’re holding her hostage at the guild hall and won’t let us in to see her. That’s why Magpie’s getting dressed.” She casts a dismissive look over at the guild master. “For all the good that will do.”

“I’m helping!” Magpie protests.

“You’re a soggy mess is what you are,” Gwenna declares. “If you weren’t such a waste of skin, we wouldn’t be in this mess, now would we?”

“Hey,” Lark protests. “That’s my aunt.”

“Your aunt is a drunken waste of skin,” Gwenna repeats. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Lark glances at me and then drops her gaze, sullen. “I mean…she’s trying.”

“She’s not trying very hard.” Gwenna glares over at the two of them again. “And now Aspeth is suffering because there was no one to speak up for her. So someone in charge needs to fix this. Now.”

I look over at Magpie. Her head is stuck in her clothes, one hand flailing above her head.