Chapter 14 Go Team
Go Team
Brok
Barnaby landed the last box jump with both feet planted, and straightened his back like a gymnast. After my months of trying to get him fit again, the sight was almost unbelievable. “Did you see, Brok?” he cried, clutching his paws to his chest. “I did it!”
“You did, yes. Forty-three seconds.” I held up my phone so he could see the timer. Twelve seconds faster than last week, which meant he could handle the delivery routes without collapsing halfway through.
“I could keep going,” he said, as if he’d just had an epiphany. “I feel like I could train for another hour. This is amazing.”
It was more than amazing. It was life-altering, for everything and everyone.
Even the Iron Grove was unusually cheerful this morning.
My go-to makeshift gym had always been a place for induced suffering, but today, the sun seemed brighter.
The birds chirped more loudly. The moss glowed, and even the tree branches rustled a little differently. It was all because of Barnaby.
A week ago, three box jumps would have destroyed him. Now he wanted more. There was only one explanation.
The flat cakes had worked. Barnaby’s power as the Herald of Spring was coming back. We had a chance at winning the Challenge. But now wasn’t the time to drop our guard.
Hazel sat cross-legged on one of my weight benches with her phone out.
She was probably already planning something.
Having her here in my training space felt like watching two separate parts of my life finally connect.
With her hair tied back and those small marks I’d left on her neck still visible, she was more beautiful than ever.
She’d been with us every step of the way, and I loved her for it.
I dragged my attention back to Barnaby. “You’re making good progress. Your form is clean. We can start building real power instead of just trying to survive each session.”
“Because I’m not exhausted all the time.
” His whole face was bright with genuine enthusiasm.
There was no sign of the forced optimism he’d been faking for months.
Just honest joy. “I woke up this morning and wanted to practice delivery routes for fun, Brok. When was the last time I did anything for fun?”
Probably when he’d been taste-testing things for Hazel. It was, at least in part, my fault. But we were getting better at it, and that meant everything.
Hazel pulled a water bottle from her bag and passed it to Barnaby without his asking. She’d been watching us train long enough now to know when he’d need it. Something about that casual attention made my throat feel tight. Nobody had ever paid that kind of attention to my training sessions before.
“All right, as thankful as we are for Brok’s weird meat cookies, we need to take this further,” she said. “I have a plan to—”
Before Hazel could unleash the full force of her creativity on us, the air started to ripple. The forest around us groaned, and a portal opened right in the middle of the Iron Grove. Grix fell through face-first, his tablet flying from his hands and skittering across the moss.
It wasn’t unusual for Grix to travel through portals, but he never arrived like this. He was never chaotic or unprepared. Something must have gone seriously wrong. But what?
Grix scrambled to his feet with his suit jacket twisted sideways. His hands were shaking badly enough that I could see the tremor from across the grove. He snatched up the tablet and stabbed at the screen so hard I expected it to shatter.
“Impossible!” His voice climbed higher with each word, hitting that pitch that usually preceded his threatening to quit.
His glasses were askew, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“The Joy Coefficient jumped twenty-five points overnight. Twenty-five! That doesn’t happen! Someone’s tampering with the data, or—”
He looked up from his tablet and froze completely.
Every muscle in his small body went rigid. His mouth fell open. His claws dug into the tablet case hard enough that I heard plastic crack. He’d just noticed Hazel, and I braced for the screaming that was about to happen.
“There is a human in the Iron Grove.” Each syllable came out slowly and evenly, as if he was testing the words for poison. “Brok, there is a human woman who can see all of this.”
It was probably not a good idea to taunt him now, but I was in too good a mood to let him get to me. “As observant as ever, Grix. And her name is Hazel.”
“I don’t care about her name!” The screech probably scared birds three dimensions over.
His hands were still shaking as he shoved his glasses back up his nose.
“You brought an unaffiliated civilian into supernatural space. Do you understand what you’ve done?
There are reasons why humans aren’t allowed to interact with our world. ”
Yes, and all of them were good. It was dangerous, both for them and for us. But only if the human in question didn’t belong with us. And Hazel obviously did.
He was spiraling into full panic mode, which meant he was about to start listing specific regulations and penalty clauses. We didn’t have time for this.
Hazel stood and walked over to Grix with unhurried calm.
No fear, no hesitation, as if panicking kobolds were just another Tuesday morning for her.
Watching her move with that steady confidence made me want to kiss her senseless.
It also made me realize she was braver than most people I’d fought beside in the Steppe.
She pulled a small white box from her bag. “Brok told me you liked my protein bites. Here. Try this.”
Grix stared at the box as if she’d just handed him a live grenade. He looked at her face, then back at the box. He was trying to figure out if this was some kind of human trick. I almost felt bad for him. He had no idea what he was up against.
“What is… this, exactly?” he sneered. He tried to sound disgusted, but I saw the eagerness. So did Hazel.
“Dark chocolate with candied orange peel.” She pressed the box into his hands before he could refuse. “Consider it a peace offering. For how much trouble Brok and Barnaby have been.”
Grix opened the box with exaggerated caution. He took his time observing the chocolates. I half expected him to pull out his little chisel and crack them open, just as he had done with the information crystals.
But finally, after what seemed like forever, he chose one. He bit into it, and his face went completely blank. And just like that, he lost the battle.
His shoulders dropped, and his claws relaxed their death grip on the tablet. He chewed slowly, with the kind of focus that meant he was actually tasting what he was eating. But when he swallowed, he reached for another chocolate immediately. Then another. And another.
By the fifth one, I wondered if we were even going to talk to Grix at all today. Had I lost my agent to the spell of Hazel’s sweets? I couldn’t even blame him for it.
Ten chocolates later, Grix snapped the box shut. “Very well,” he offered. He tucked the box under one arm with the same protective care I’d seen dragons use with gold. “I suppose we can make an exception, since clearly such a human belongs in our world anyway.”
It was exactly the same conclusion I’d reached. I resisted the urge to gloat. “Now that we have that out of the way, what were you screaming about earlier? You already knew what we were going to do.”
Grix settled onto the fallen log and balanced his tablet on his knee. “Yes, Brok, but this is still a drastic change. Rather surprising, really. It could create some kind of imbalance. Or maybe draw a reaction from Reynard.”
Hazel frowned. She hadn’t quite managed to reconcile her image of her friend Vixen with the idea of a magical fox. “What could Reynard possibly do?”
“He could do plenty,” Grix replied. “He’s probably the most resourceful creature I know. But this time, I think even he underestimated Barnaby. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to pull this off at all. Now, we just have to maintain the momentum.”
“And keep Barnaby’s Joy Coefficient high.” Hazel nodded, looking more determined than ever before. “We can do that.”
Grix hummed under his breath but didn’t contradict her. “I suppose if there’s anyone who can sustain this type of anomalous growth, it might be you.” He hesitated, then turned toward me. “As for you, Brok…”
He shot to his feet and pulled an amulet out of his pocket. “Here. Without the glamor, you’ll need this to walk around in the human world.”
It was an unexpected gesture of kindness.
Kobold amulets were almost as pricey as the information they peddled.
I’d used this service before, when I was between customers and needed to hide my true nature.
It cost an arm and a leg, but it kept humans from running away screaming while I was buying groceries.
“This will work until I win my Title back,” Barnaby said, his ears perked forward with hope. “Once I have full power, I can extend my own glamor to cover you properly. But in the meantime…”
He shot a glance toward Hazel. I had to admit, I’d been a little worried about the risk, too.
I’d barely managed to sneak out of The Cocoa Bean the night after the glamor had fallen.
I hadn’t been there since. Barnaby’s magic still allowed him to make portals, so Hazel could come to us. But I still hated being away from her.
I took the amulet from Grix, acknowledging the service with a simple nod. Words weren’t necessary, not right now. I’d make it up to him later, and he knew it. “How do I look?” I asked as I put the amulet on.
Hazel studied my face, no doubt seeing whatever illusion the amulet was projecting into her mind.
The man who’d first walked into her shop as Barnaby Warren’s fitness-nut brother.
Something human enough to walk through the world without causing problems. Her lips twisted into a tiny, secret smile.
“It works. But I still prefer the green.”
The words hit me harder than they should have.
I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to pin her against the nearest tree and make her say it again, make her prove she meant it.
But we were standing in front of my client and my agent.
We were in the middle of discussing strategy, and I needed to maintain some shred of distance.
“So what now, Grix? I assume you have some feedback for our new approach?”
Grix seemed to consider my question. Ten long seconds passed. And then, he looked at Barnaby.
It was probably the first time he’d actually paid Barnaby much heed.
To Grix, Barnaby had always been a liability.
But not anymore. “Right now, Osterhase, Hazel can work on the most important part. The Joy Coefficient. Brok will keep your body in shape.” He grinned, and his fangs glinted in the sunlight. “As for me… I’ll work on your mind.”
Barnaby blanched, clearly not looking forward to a game of quizzes with kobolds. But Hazel patted his fuzzy head, and just like that, he recovered. “S-sounds good!” he stammered, only a little anxious. “Go team!”
I shared an amused look with Hazel. This was not what I signed up for when I agreed to be the Easter Bunny’s personal trainer.
But things changed, especially when beautiful human chocolatiers were involved.
If Hazel’s magic could persuade even Grix to work with us, I never stood a chance against it.
And no matter what Reynard thought, he’d be just as helpless.