The mask—or Mazi as we call it now—actually had some good intel on this town. Knew of a pub with some decent ale and more free olives than Piper knew what to do with. And he was so thankful for our help that he even took time to entertain the other patrons so that we’d have all our drinks paid for. Turns out he’s quite the orator. Fine actor as well. He can recite entire Guntherian plays from memory and even does voices for each character. With the tips he received, we didn’t even have to dip into the bullions we pilfered out of the castle. This Philippe character had quite the enterprise going. I see why he was so desperate to get the mask back.

  When we set out the next morning, after the drinks and adrenaline and thrill of running away together have worn off, I ask Piper, “So, do we actually have some semblance of a plan here? Where are we going exactly?”

  “I was following you.”

  We both stop and look sideways at each other. Seems we’re at a crossroads. Both figuratively and literally. I nod toward the street on our right. “Well, if we go east we’ll eventually make it to Norwüd. Never been. Over that way,” I point my head south, “is Matsuria. Where we met our friend the hydra. And that way is Fornia. Which is the country we’re currently at war with.”

  She turns south with a bounce of her heels. “Matsuria then. I have family there…at least I think.”

  “Oh right, the great aunt.”

  She squints at the horizon. “It might have been a cousin, actually.”

  “Might I interject?” Great, now the mask has an opinion.

  I have him strapped to my waist so it looks like I’m talking to my crotch when I look down to talk to him. “You have a suggestion?”

  “Well, judging by the weapon strapped to the lady’s back and the hilt that’s been bouncing against my cheek rather annoyingly, I’d guess that you are two very resourceful and capable individuals. With certain unique skills.”

  I shrug. “Sure. What’ve you got in mind?”

  I tilt him up so we can look at each other while we talk. Though now he’s upside down from my vantage point. He explains, “Just north of here is a town called Dartmoor. Lovely place. Very good seafood from what I hear. Some of the best squid you can find, though I don’t eat so I wouldn’t be able to confirm the validity of—”

  “Where you going with this, mask?”

  “At the edge of town is…an employer of sorts. Man by the name of Raspian. Very wealthy. Gives out odd jobs to…well, people like yourselves.”

  Piper looks at me with a furrowed brow. “What kinds of jobs?”

  The mask is giving me a weird smile and I don’t think I like it. It simply says, “Your kind.”

  ***

  Raspian’s villa is actually pretty impressive for a low-level crime boss in some random hick town. Two goons stand guard outside, though you’d never know it without a trained eye, and half a dozen ornate pillars flank the entrance on either side. As we make our way toward the door, Piper asks, “When are you gonna teach me close-range combat?”

  “Never.”

  She punches me in the shoulder and stops me in my tracks. “What do you mean, ‘never?’”

  We’ve had this argument before. I tell her the same thing every time. “You need to keep your distance when fighting. The bow is perfect for you. You get up close to your enemy and you risk getting killed.”

  “I know that! But I can do more. Teach me how to use that.” She points at the sword attached to my back. The one I took from the dead soldier at the castle.

  “Look just, not today. Maybe someday. Let’s get this over with and we’ll talk about it later.”

  We step forward and tell the goons outside that we’re here looking for some work. They go ahead and open the doors for us, revealing a long hall with a man in a big, gaudy chair at the end that could better be described as a throne. Actually, that’s exactly what it is. The guy is sitting on a throne. His bald head reflects light from the hanging lanterns above him nearly blindingly. He must wax that thing. The doors thud shut behind us as we stop in front of him and I announce, “Raspian, I uh…Hi. Thanks for seeing us. I’m Darion, and this is…not important. The lady and I are capable workers. We’re both looking for work.”

  Raspian rasps out his reply, “And what sort of work would the two of you be looking for?”

  “Well, we can hunt, we can fight. We both know our way around a battlefield.”

  He leans over and presses a finger against one nostril as he blows a wad of snot straight onto the floor. Piper and I are both scowling at the spot where it landed as he asks, “What kinds of battles have you been in?”

  I sigh and eye the ceiling. “We have experience with mystical creatures. The lady has the power of enchantment.”

  A smile slithers across his face as he claps his hands and says, “Perfect! I have just the job.”

  And that’s how we ended up clearing out a farm-full of imps on the outskirts of this shit town. This is almost insulting. In fact, for the pittance he’s paying us, it is. Imps only stand about two feet tall and killing them is like mowing down grass. Piper is already bored twenty minutes into the mission, demanding that I give her a sword. “Look, you’ve got two of them! Give me the one on your back. If you teach me how to use it I can be more helpful.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “No.”

  She crosses her arms to sulk as Mazi chimes in from my waist, “If you care to hear the humble opinion of a lowly cowl, I believe she is quite safe from these creatures. Seems to me that this would be the perfect opportunity for her to practice her skills. And besides, a melee weapon could come in handy when her supply of arrows is depleted.”

  I’m sick of this mask making sense. I unstrap the sheath attached to my back as I kick an imp in the face and send it tumbling backwards, end over end. The little shit was hacking at my shin with a knife and I can only be annoyed by one thing at a time.

  Piper grins at the sword like it’s a slice of triple chocolate cake as I hand it over. But then her grin slowly turns over on itself while she fumbles around with the sheath. She’s having trouble attaching it to her back because of her quiver and the bulky armor covering her shoulders. I give her a minute or so to get frustrated with it before pointing and asking, “You want me to help with—”

  “I got it.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, I can see that.” It goes on for a few more seconds until I lose my patience. “Look, will you just let me—”

  “I said I got it. I want to do it myself.”

  She eventually gives up trying to put it on her back and just loops the strap around her waist to fasten it to her hip instead. Then after she draws the sword out, I take it from her and show her how to wield it. “Hold it like this. And when you swipe, make sure it’s always away from your body. You’d be surprised how easy it is to nick yourself when things get out of hand in a fight. Here, watch.” I demonstrate by decapitating an imp that was trying to cut through my boot. Then I hand the weapon back to Piper. “Use both hands.” I wrap my fingers overtop of hers and pull the hilt up over her shoulder. “Swipe across like this.” Then I let go and step back while she takes a few practice swings. “Good girl. And watch your back. Some of these little assholes shoot arrows.” A projectile bounces off the armor on my left shoulder as if to punctuate my statement. I point at where it hit and then cross my arms while I watch her work.

  Piper is enjoying herself far too much. She’s got a big, silly grin glued to her face, laughing and making ‘whoosh’ sounds with her voice as she lops imp heads off left and right. I almost feel bad for the evil little bastards. A big one covered in useless wooden armor appears midway through the mission and I let Piper do the honors of taking the fucker out. Her decapitation skills have gotten better just in the short amount of time we’ve been out here. When this woman puts her mind to something, let me tell you, she really is…something. After finishing the big one off, she leans the blade of her sword back against one shoulder while glancing over it to give me a smirky little half-smile. Then she lifts the same shoulder in a modest-but-not-really shrug. There’s something indescribably appealing about the way she’s standing there smiling at me while the imp boss’s head tumbles down the hill away from her. What can I say, I have a type. I smile back and drag my sword out to help finish the rest of the job and the sun isn’t even low by the time we’ve massacred the entire marauding gang.

  After graciously receiving our oh-so-generous compensation from the crook at the edge of town, we’re both immediately downing ales at the local brewery. Place called ‘The Brewery.’ Creative people, these country folk. It’s there that I take another shot at this thing between me and Piper. “So uh…you ever think about you and me? Being like…a thing?”

  She guzzles the last of her pint before slamming it down on the table and saying, “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  It gets quiet for a second longer than I’m okay with so I try changing the subject. “Do you think Raspian waxes his head?”

  She laughs even though she tries not to. “You shouldn’t make fun of people for being bald! I’m sure he can’t help it.” I give her a shrug and watch as she tilts her empty pint forwards and backwards a few times. Then she asks, “Do you think I’m a good person?”

  That took an unexpected turn. All I can respond with is, “Huh?”

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Never mind. It’s nothing. I just…I don’t know.”

  I think for a second before leaning forward against the table and explaining in a hopefully not-too-drunk way, “Hey, you know I’d never lie to you, right?” She nods. “Well look, you’re not perfect. Actually, you’re a pain in my ass. A royal pain. In fact, you might be the most disorganized, chaotic nobleperson I’ve ever met. Well, not even nobleperson. Just person person. And you—”

  “Wait, are you trying to make me feel better or worse right now?”

  “...Well, there was gonna be a ‘but.’ But if you just want me to start listing things to make you feel better…” I count on my fingers. “You’re also funny, kind, deceptively smart, gorgeous without even trying. You’re ambitious, you end up being the best at everything you learn how to do. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever—“

  “Alright stop!” She puts her hands on mine to stop me from counting further. Then she holds them there for just a bit longer than is necessary before sliding them off and relaxing back into her chair. “Sheesh, it’s either one extreme or the other with you. You need to save that charm of yours for some surly, loose-moraled bar wench. That’s your type, right? Someone who’ll fall for your sweet-talk. There’s gotta be one somewhere around here.” She cranes her neck to scan around the bar for a suitable mark.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear at court. My reputation is a carefully cultivated one.” She stops her mock search to look back at me. I explain, “People have certain expectations of a person in my position. Someone they consider a ‘hero.’ I let people think what they want to think. The truth is I’ve never had any interest in loose-moraled anything. My job takes too much…took too much of my time.”

  She’s giving me quite the look right now. ‘Skeptical’ would be underselling it. But then a few seconds go by and her face softens into something resembling a smile. She lifts her pint and tries to take a pull on it before remembering it’s empty and setting it back down with a grunt. Then she starts to stagger out of her chair to get another one but before she can stand, I press down on her shoulder and tell her, “I’ll get it. You stay here.”

  While I’m stumbling up to the bar, I hear her start humming to herself back at the table. Despite the cacophony of noise in the pub, I’m able to make out every note in the melody. As far as I’m concerned, the rest of the world may as well not exist any time she starts in on a tune. She stopped me before I could get far enough in my list to mention her beautiful singing voice. It’s an odd juxtaposition for the setting we’re in. Hearing that sound in a place like this is like seeing a diamond in the village cesspit.

  I’m up at the bar holding out my silver, still trying to hear her when a badly sunburnt chap collapses into the seat to my right. Then he proceeds to stare at me. Like, really stare. Like he’s trying to solve a puzzle on my face. It goes on for a few awkward seconds until I ask the creep, “Can I help you?”

  He presses a finger into my chest and says, “I know you. You’re the one that made off with the princess. The kidnapper. I could make a lot of money off of turning you in. Looks like you’re comin’ with me.”