Chapter 177

Rosalie considered the offer.

“Like fucking shit we will,” Delta growled. She took a menacing step forward, making both parties flinch. But, thank the heavens, the fight didn’t break out again.

Rosalie, the woman with a functioning brain, recognized the offer was more than acceptable. They had far too little to gain from victory, and victory wasn’t even guaranteed. The fight was much closer than Rosalie preferred. Which was also why Dog-Mask had pulled back and called a ceasefire in the first place; this should have been easy for them.

Perhaps a victory meant Rosalie and her party could take prisoners, but for what purpose? Zoey and Delta already said they didn’t think the Church had significantly valuable information, much less these four individuals in particular. Only the hourglass had any relevance—both the item itself, and their knowledge of it, and corrupted items in general, since the cultists had apparently experimented.

“Give us the hourglass,” Rosalie said. “And you have a deal.”

“Like hell we’re going to—” Delta started hotly.

“Shut UP!” Rosalie nearly screamed, spinning on the woman. “Don’t you realize the situation we’re in?”

The heat in Rosalie’s voice actually managed to make the woman’s teeth click shut. While Delta’s rashness was annoying at the best of times, it could easily be lethal, here. Reasonably, Rosalie was infuriated at her lack of common sense—or control, or whatever it was that made the woman so incapable of acting rationally. After keeping the glare locked on Delta for a long moment, and the woman remaining silent, seeming like she’d been slapped, Rosalie faced back to Dog-Mask to continue negotiations.

“Can’t,” Dog-Mask said, not sparing a comment for the interaction; she was as concerned over the tension in the room as Rosalie herself was. “It’s locked in his hand.” She gestured with her dagger. “Even the Headhunter himself couldn’t rip it out. You can try, if you want.”

Rosalie wasn’t a woman to take people on their word. She cautiously approached, keeping her spear at the ready and eying both of their standing opponents. She nudged the hourglass with the tip of her spear. Oddly, the entirety of Goat-Mask tilted, like they’d been fused into a statue. It seemed, at least on quick appraisal, that Dog-Mask was telling the truth: the status effect had rendered the hourglass as effectively ‘part’ of him.

“How do you undo it?” Rosalie asked. She was worried, of course, about Lucinda.

“Just happens. Length varies. No more than half an hour. Can’t do anything about it till then.”

“And how can I believe you?”

“Look,” Dog-Mask said. “I really don’t care about all of this—whoever you four are. Came in as a hired mercenary. Him too.” She jabbed a dagger toward the golem. She sounded pissed off, perhaps because she’d been given incorrect information on what she’d been hired for. The ostensibly genuine reaction gave Rosalie some confidence she was telling the truth, but again, she wasn’t a woman to take people, much less enemies, at their word.

But it also didn’t seem like Rosalie had much choice not to. Obviously, the woman wouldn’t let the hourglass’s effect expire. They recognized Lucinda was the strongest wayfarer here, even if they had no idea who she was. If she unfroze, the encounter was over—Rosalie’s team would win. So insisting that they simply wait at a standstill until the effect wore off, proving her claim, wasn’t an option. And neither could Rosalie take the hourglass; it was fused with the lead cultist.

“Leave him here,” Rosalie said, gesturing at the man.

Dog-Mask considered that. It took a second for her to respond, but when she did, she seemed reluctant, but firm. “Nah, that’s not happening either. We have standards. He’s on our team.”

The two of them stared at each other. The fight was too close for the woman to be too intimidated by Rosalie, so she didn’t have much negotiating power. Rosalie hadn’t much expected her to agree to the request—either of them, for that matter—but it’d been worth trying.

“I’m not lying,” Dog-Mask said. “We’ll take him, and our friend,” she eyed the downed woman, bleeding profusely, “and leave. She’ll unfreeze at the same time he does. It’s how the artifact works. I swear it.” Her eyes lingered on the collapsed woman. “And thanks for not killing her. Stomach shot. You could’ve done worse. But she needs a healer as soon as possible.”

Rosalie grunted. The explanation was more than plausible. She had no reason to believe the hourglass’s effect was permanent; that would make no sense for a shard item. She met eyes with Zoey and Delta. Delta, visibly fuming, eventually nodded, showing she did have at least some common sense remaining. Zoey, far more disoriented from the encounter, did the same, though probably, she was just ceding the decision to Rosalie.

Rosalie noted that Zoey was the only one of them who wasn’t bleeding. Delta had done a good job guarding her—and otherwise keeping her opponent’s attention. Maybe she was an idiot, but she was competent. Fighting a full advancement above them, even two-on-one, wasn’t easy.

Rosalie faced back forward. “Go,” she grunted, gesturing at the door with her spear.

The bulky golem stepped up and grabbed Goat-Mask’s elbow, then started dragging him. He stayed frozen like a statue as he was pulled; it was an odd display. Dog-Mask likewise grabbed Bird-Mask, then dragged her out into the hallway, before throwing her over her shoulders. It left a smear of blood across their floor. The stomach shot had, of course, left the woman bleeding profusely.

Rosalie stayed in place, but tense, since any movement might be taken as an opportunistic attack while the two had their guards down. She honestly did consider using the opportunity, but discarded the idea. Again, there was too little benefit to be had in victory, even if everything worked out. She just wanted them gone, and the conflict ended.

And so, they were left alone, the sudden, intense chaos leaving as suddenly as it had come.

Rosalie wiped a hand through her hair, letting out a long breath. Her head was still ringing from both the headbutt and the golem’s punch—and the general adrenaline of the bout against the much stronger wayfarer.

“Remember when I called you two idiots for gallivanting around with some random cult?” Rosalie said. “That’s why.”

Delta’s expression didn’t suggest that she disagreed, but neither did she look particularly happy about everything. Again, for all her inability to control herself, she seemed self-aware: Rosalie assumed she was blaming herself for this whole debacle. Rosalie felt vindication at that, but also some guilt—she had been rather insulting in how she’d spoken to the woman, however much it had frankly been deserved.