The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

They would have to walk into it.

Taryn stared at the canteen in her hands, then at the faintly glowing white route line beside the rail cut. The line went back to Grand Meridian. It did not pull. It did not close around her wrist. It simply waited.

”I will return with you,” she said. ”For treatment. Nothing more promised.”

”Nothing more owed,” Austin Veyron replied.

The group set out south before the ash wind could bury their tracks. Taryn walked between Kesra and Veyra, not because anyone had assigned guards, but because her damaged armor kept snagging on the broken rail ties. Rin ranged ahead. Sable stayed near the rear, watching the ridgeline where the black birds had perched.

Calder eventually spoke up. ”What is the Ash Matron’s name?”

Taryn’s shoulders tensed under the iron plates.

”Names matter in the Meridian,” Kesra said. ”You told us that.”

”They matter more to her.” Taryn swallowed. ”Her name is Vordessa. Before the Emperor took the First Feast road, she was a forge sovereign. She made weapons for demon wars. The Emperor did not conquer her because she was stronger. He made her useful.”

”And now?” Veyra asked.

”Now she thinks usefulness is the only freedom left.”

Sable took a few steps in silence. ”Vordessa always believed a crown was honest. She said a person who holds power should admit the cost of holding it.”

”That sounds almost reasonable,” Calder said.

”It is,” Sable replied. ”Until she decides everyone else must pay the cost for her.”

Austin Veyron felt the wrapped splinter tug against his belt. The Crownforge shard did not care whether the person using it called themselves emperor, matron, or protector. It only knew the conversion of names into obedience.

”We set our line before we see her,” he said. ”We go north to learn the forge and get prisoners out. No crowns. No binding contracts. If anyone joins us, it is because they choose it with clear terms.”

Kesra glanced toward him. ”You say that like it will make the Ash Meridian simple.”

”It will make our part simple.”

The first attack came from the side tunnel.

A chain leapt out of the dark and wrapped around Taryn’s chest. Black links tightened over her fused armor, dragging her toward the old maintenance passage. Veyra caught the chain before it could pull the scout off her feet. Sparks leapt from her gauntlet.

”Contact!” Rin called.

Figures moved in the underpass shadows. They wore ash-gray cloaks and iron masks shaped like smooth, empty faces. One stayed still at the center of the tunnel, a woman in a red iron coat with a thin crown of forge nails around her white hair.

”Return the scout,” she said. Her voice was low and precise. ”She is damaged Crownforge property.”

Taryn’s expression stilled to stone.

Austin Veyron stepped in front of her. ”She is not property.”

The woman inclined her head. ”Then I will make a contract. Give me her true name, and I will bind the debt legally.”

”You already know her name.”

”I know a sound she used while fleeing.” The woman drew a strip of red metal from her sleeve. Letters crawled across it like tiny insects. ”A true name must be offered in witness.”

Sable’s hand went to the empty place where her crown had been. ”Forge huntress.”

The masked woman smiled. ”Former Herald.”

Kesra lifted her spear. ”Her name is Taryn. She offered it to us, not to you.”

”Then you have all accepted responsibility for her.”

The red strip ignited.

The chains around Taryn flared toward each person in the group. They were not trying to cut. They were trying to connect. Austin Veyron understood the trick at once: the huntress wanted every spoken defense of Taryn to become a binding agreement she could claim.

”Do not speak names,” he shouted.

Rin’s first arrow knocked the red strip from the woman’s hand. The huntress was faster than the shaft, twisting away and throwing three iron nails. Maelis burned two out of the air. The third caught in Calder’s shoulder.

His gray contestant mark flared.

The forge huntress smiled again. ”A contestant. Vordessa will pay well for that.”

Veyra ripped the chain off Taryn’s armor and crashed forward. Her blade met the huntress’s curved iron saber. The collision rang out in the underpass. Kesra struck at the masked escorts, pushing them away from the side tunnel.

Austin Veyron reached for the fallen contract strip.

It crawled away from his hand.

WITNESS. BIND. COLLECT.

The command was small compared with the Emperor’s road. That made it worse. It was refined, made to hide inside everyday language and turn help into a hook.

He could devour the strip. He could devour the huntress’s core too. The hunger gnawed at him toward both.

Instead, he called Elena through the relay token.

”I need witnesses who refuse a contract,” he said.

The Freehold answered.

Marcus came first, then Nahlia, then the route runners at the north gate. Their white signatures appeared in the relay line—not offering themselves as owners, not denying Taryn’s personhood, simply recording a fact: Taryn had consented to a return route. She had not consented to a forge contract.

The red strip shrieked.

Austin Veyron grabbed it and DEVOUR opened.

He consumed the command in the metal, not the people attached to it. The coercive words melted across his tongue like hot coins. His body wanted to chase the energy into the huntress, to tear out every technique she possessed.

He stopped.

The contract strip crumbled to ash in his fist.

The huntress staggered. Veyra disarmed her with a brutal twist and sent her against the stone wall. Rin had an arrow at the woman’s throat before she could reach another nail.

”Kill me,” the huntress said.

”No,” Austin Veyron replied.

Her masked escorts fled into the side tunnel. Kesra made to chase them, but Taryn caught her sleeve.

”Let them go. They will carry the story back.”

”What story?” Kesra asked.

”That the Freehold will not take a contract when it could take a captive.”

The huntress laughed once. ”Vordessa will not believe that.”

”Then tell her,” Austin Veyron said.

The woman’s certainty bled out. It had never occurred to her that she might be allowed to leave.

”What do you want?”

”A warning and a map,” Austin Veyron said. ”You choose whether you give either.”

The forge huntress stared at the road brand on Taryn’s cheek, then at the broken collar on Kesra, then at Sable’s empty crown line. Finally she reached inside her coat and removed a folded sheet of treated hide.

”Three days,” she said. ”That is the next forging cycle. The prisoner pens fill before the forge burns. This route will get you to the outer ash trench without waking the ridge sentries.”

Rin took the map and checked it for hidden marks.

”Name?” Austin Veyron asked.

The woman’s mouth tightened.

”Damae,” she said.

”No promise from me,” Austin Veyron told her. ”You are free to walk north, south, or nowhere until you decide. But you do not take people by their names again.”

Damae touched the empty place where her contract strip had been. ”Vordessa will send more than me.”

”I know.”

The forge huntress walked into the ash without looking back.

Taryn watched her go. ”Three days is not enough to rebuild the city and reach the pens.”

Austin Veyron folded the map.

”No,” he said. ”It is enough to choose who comes and what we are willing to risk.”

Far north of the rail cut, the ash clouds shifted.

Something under them began to burn.