There were two Whipspines at the door with the host. That was a bit unusual, but not unheard of, and the recent tension in the blocks was explanation enough. But behind the twin ogresses was Bettino, an eternally prissy elf in Renato's inner circle. Normally the duty host was the only elf taking the visitors. Any other elves nearby would be inside with the boss himself, enjoying luxuries even guards could only dream about.

Marco gave his name and after about an hour of waiting, with the host popping in and out of doors periodically, he finally gave the signal. One of the Whipspines - Giuliana, possibly? - took his merchandise and escorted him inside the cell. Bettino gave him one last glare as he entered.

Well, technically, it wasn't a cell. Renato's reception chamber was converted from three cells, and even the cells surrounding them had been converted into storage, or guard rooms, or in one case, a full kitchen. The reception room itself had carpets hung on three walls, stands for artifacts and curios, and of course lavish furniture for Renato, his hangers-on, and whatever food or snacks occupied them. Renato himself sat on a spiky, high-backed golden chair that might help to explain his temperament. His guests - three, all elves - lounged on couches.

"Marco, was it?" Renato's oily words seeped into his ear, that manic smile slipping from his face the instant the elf let go of it. "You've had some good fortune, I see."

I could've gone my whole life not talking to Renato and not had any complaints. Instead, he's summoning me for routine meetings. "Yes, I have. Thank you, Renato." Marco stayed standing. He hadn't kneeled last time, and he'd lived.

"In six weeks, you procured five swords for me. Yesterday, you found two more. Do I have that right?"

"Yes, mister Renato." Marco gave the briefest incline of his head.

"Why couldn't you do that earlier?"

That being the tricky part.

If he said he was motivated, Renato would ask why their initial contract didn't motivate him. If he said he took risks, Renato would ask if those risks would compromise him. If he said he got lucky, that would make him more liability than asset.

"I spent a lot of money."

Renato stood up, stepped forward, and placed his hand on Marco's shoulder. Marco flinched. I knew I should've waited. One day? Two swords in one day?

Then Renato laughed, and his sycophants too. "Well done, goblin. Another six in six, then? Same rate."

"M—" Marco stopped himself. "Renato. It'll be impossible for me to steal any swords this month. Not with the guards so worked up."

"Nonsense. It'll be even easier." The elf smiled down on him, and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip. "They're all running around like worms. This is the time for growth."

Marco's lips were dry. He wondered how disrespectful it would be to lick them.

"A ten percent bonus on your next contract." He nodded to the whipspine. "Tell Bettino."

And like that, Marco was dismissed. The whipspine - he was pretty sure it was Giuliana, Giulietta had better teeth - ushered him towards the exit door in the back. She swung it shut behind him, and the outside had no handle.

He'd made it. Certainly, taking another contract with Renato was wrong, but that being the only problem to arise from the meeting was almost a blessing. It might impact his freedom of movement, especially with regards to Ilaria, but... who knows what she'd be up to in six weeks? Even if she stayed loyal and did what she promised, well, she never promised to be here in six weeks, let along six months. A goblin's gotta make his own way.

"...Block H." A voice drifted into Marco's ears. It came from the grate in the cell door behind him. What was Renato doing with block H?

Enough. This wasn't Marco's role and it certainly wasn't worth his neck to find out. He wasn't from block H, didn't go anywhere near H, and as long as the rest of Proteus had food, didn't care one pebble about H at all.

"Both found this morning," the voice continued. "We'll need new border monitors. They had two more shifts together this week."

Marco hadn't moved since Giuliana shoved him through the door. He wasn't anywhere he wasn't supposed to be, not really. He was, in fact, in the exact location he was last put. That was the opposite of blameworthy. Commendable! It wasn't his fault that someone - sounded like an elf, either Bettino or one of the ones on the couch - spoke so loud.

Yet Marco had no problem making out Renato's response. "Did we find their swords?"

Two dead underlings. No swords. Would Renato mistakenly think that Marco had recycled his dead minion's belongings?

Worse, would Renato correctly think it?

"Hey! Goblin."

Marco started. Coming around the nearest corner was Bettino, who evidently was not the person giving Renato a report inside the room. Marco would've frozen in response, but he was already standing still. This was bad. This was quite bad.

Bettino cleared the distance in four strides, grabbed Marco's right arm, and twisted it behind his back. Marco stood on his toes and strained to keep in one piece. Behind him, inside the cell, the conversation continued but he lost track of the words. "And here I thought you were a roach, not a rat."

"Of course, Bettino. I was just heading out. If you'd allow me?"

Bettino didn't respond. He marched Marco back around to the front, or tried to, but Marco couldn't walk at all due to the height difference: His body was almost entirely supported by his twisted arm, turning him to the side. Bettino frowned, then finally lifted the goblin up with an arm around his torso. Marco was now sideways, pinned to the elf's chest. "Bettino. I'm a businessman. You're a businessman. Just put me down and let's talk."

Of course, Bettino was there when the whipspine frisked Marco, so he wouldn't fear a weapon. And Bettino was plenty strong enough for a goblin, meaning...

Bettino fell over onto Marco, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Mister Bettino?" Marco squeezed out. He craned his neck around. Why did he feel...

Blood dripped from Bettino's open mouth onto Marco's sleeve, while the elf's sightless eyes stared into the stone-tiled ground.

Marco knew better than to make a sound. He wriggled from the elf's loosened grip and crawled to freedom. Righting himself revealed Ilaria, face schooled to boredom, picking dirt from under a nail with a faintly glowing runed dagger. Marco recalled his first impression: Tempting, like the urge to touch a flame. She'd really done it now.

Unless, of course, she'd already really done it last night.

"I'm on a tight schedule, Marco, and Renato's not my focus. Please try not to get tortured to death, OK?"

The first words that came to Marco's mind. "Why are you here?"

"You're my partner." She gave him a shallow smile. "Can't have my partner killed for spying, even if I didn't need it." Her smile vanished. "I don't, by the way. I know who died last night."

"I..." How could Marco even respond to that? "...Thanks?"

"You're welcome. Your cell, two hours. Don't forget!" She gave him a wave and disappeared around a corner. Marco was sure that if he followed, the hall would be empty. The woman didn't seem to make a sound, and that was a goblin's ears listening. It was like she was only visible when she remembered it was polite.

His brain coalesced into three thoughts. First, that Ilaria was absolutely capable of bringing all of Proteus down. Second, she didn't care whose life she put at risk. Marco was in it for real, and there was no way out.

He turned around and headed for an abandoned cross-hall where he could ditch his bloody cloak.

Marco's final thought: He was damn lucky he was on herside.