Page 15 of A Spell of Heart & Havoc

No, don’t go down that road. I’m doing what I must. There’s no faster way to get the coin I need to save Balfie. Unless I find and threaten some powerful mage in transmuting gold for me, and I know I definitely don’t have the stomach for that.

Or the time. That level of skilled mage, able to change the very essence of an object permanently, was almost always an official Mage of the Realm, sworn in and protected by the Queen of Kurriel. They were rare. By the time I tracked one down and somehow found a way to overpower them, force them to give me what I want, it likely would already be too late.

I’d made my decision. This heist was my best chance. The art collection alone would be a massive score on the black market, and I hadn’t even had a chance to scout out the family’s jewelry, clothing, antiques—this place was filled with things just waiting to be stolen and turned into solid, hard coin.

Sometimes, I remembered what it had been like before all of this. Before my whole life centered on getting an insane amount of gold as quickly as I could. Back just about six months ago, everything changed, and sand in the hourglass began to fall faster and faster.

The last time I felt happy—truly, marvelously happy—was at The Painted Dragon, a lovely, colorful inn plopped incongruously in a tiny little hamlet half a day’s ride from here. I was still working as a bounty hunter in those days, traveling around this inner part of the realm working for whatever bounties I could get. At the time, I’d just had that madcap adventure where I’d attempted to arrest, then drugged—not my finest moment—and then saved Elikki Sunstorm, an annoyingly charming elf with big chaos energy. After the two of us, along with her half-giant boy toy Barra and his sister Telen, dealt with that worm Felsith, she had handed over his full coin purse to me, and I’d set off, ready to start a new chapter in my life.

I’d carried more coin than I’d had in years. Not enough to fix everything, but enough for the next several months. I could breathe for a moment. Just for a moment, idly imagine a future where, possibly, I did manage to solve everything and finally move forward. Maybe, in that life, I’d take up pottery. Or have a little tea shop somewhere. Nothing fancy, just a few tables, some squishy chairs, and one of those long wooden bars where I could serve up tea and treats to customers. Or, in the wildest of my daydreams, I imagined myself opening a center for orphaned or abandoned youths. It would be bright and airy, with enough space for the children to run around. I’d teach self-defense and combat classes and hire tutors for other subjects. There would be long tables for meals in a garden, like the outdoor dinners of my childhood, so we could eat in the fresh air when the weather was nice. And there would be an infirmary and an in-house healer, so everyone could receive the best medical care.

A dream, and a ridiculous one. I’d never even heard of a place like that in Kurriel. How would it be funded? And kept running for decades? Maybe if the Queen herself bankrolled it, which was absurdly unrealistic.

But I still couldn’t help thinking about it sometimes.

Telen had joined me on the walk back to The Painted Dragon, and it had been just so nice. Pleasant. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually felt hopeful about the future. As we traveled the few hours to the inn, we got acquainted, talking and laughing—yes, I was laughing—the whole journey. By the time we’d arrived, the talking had shifted to flirting, and Telen had convinced me to join her for dinner. She was beautiful, with a deceptively stern face that hid sparkling eyes and forge-strengthened forearms that made even me swoon. How could I say no?

That, unfortunately, meant facing the innkeepers, a couple named Saho and Legus. I’d skipped out on my work with them a few days prior, and had to awkwardly apologize at the bar, with many nosy diners listening in. Thankfully, Telen was there to smooth things over.

Legus’s severe expression, looming over me with his seven-foot-something Dragonborn height, will forever be branded into my memory. But after a couple minutes of my halting apologies and explanations, he broke into a soft smile, confessing that he really just wanted to see how long I’d bumble on if no one stopped me. This earned him a playful jab in the gut from Saho, who declared that they’d already forgiven me as soon as I returned with a full coin purse to spend. Then they squeezed me in a quick hug before flouncing off to the kitchens yelling about how we must try their dinner special, or they wouldn’t forgive me.

By the time full night fell, Telen and I were full of delicious seafood stew and rosemary cheddar biscuits, and we’d secured a room together. The next morning, after hours of truly marvelous sex and a deep sleep, I slipped out of bed and scrawled a quick note that I was running an errand nearby and would be back in a few hours. I asked her to wait for me.

Whistling, I’d grabbed an apple from the empty kitchens and strode out the inn’s doors. The sun had been just breaking the horizon, too early for anyone to be up yet. Such a gorgeous morning—the air crisp and fresh, bright little dewdrops hanging on every blade of grass. I’d set off to the priory on a borrowed horse with the weight of coin at my hip and a hopeful heart.

But reality had come crashing back after I’d visited Balfie in the infirmary. I’d remembered that he should be—and always would be—my top priority. Nothing was more important than getting his cure. Saving him—that was what I should have been focused on, not beautiful women and crazy adventures.

Trying to pull myself out of these memories, I focused on my body, where I was now. In this unfamiliar, too-big room, tucked into a massive country manor. Sweat cooling stickily on my skin, eyes still gummy from sleep. I pushed away the images of what had come after: the sharp fear; redoubling my determination to get the money needed, no matter the cost; heading to the closest city. Leaving Telen without an explanation. Losing myself in the search for a way to steal a small fortune, then finding and joining the Takers Guild. The months since, desperate again and lonelier than ever before.

A few sharp clacks of the slitling’s beak broke me out of my reverie. One beady eye glared at me, as to say hurry it up, girl, or else. It took a couple menacing steps closer on the windowsill, and I shook my head, refocusing on the message I’d been trying to compose to Zephyra.

Have successfully secured the bodyguard position & infiltrated the manor. Focused on recon now, and getting the lay of the land. My charge is an obstinate, resistant brat—no surprises there. And the Lord & Lady W seem at once distant & overbearing. Very lavish household, but suspiciously understaffed & tight-lipped. They’re hiding something.

I’ve been added to both the household wards and D’s private suite wards. I’ll keep learning as much as I can, and will send word as soon as I discover anything.

—M

That done, I tentatively tucked it into the slitling’s waiting leg pouch and watched it fly off, closing the window firmly behind it. Then I stalked to the washbasin again, thoughts swirling. After stripping my nightshirt off and dunking a cloth in the water, I scoured my arms and upper body until the skin turned angry. Thankfully, I’d been able to have a proper bath in the servants’ quarters last night after a solid meal. Despite Dove’s threats, Choia had ladled up not the pigs’ leftovers but a delicious, steaming-hot vegetable stew.

Mostly vegetables… though I did notice some small pieces of squid floating around. When I questioned the cook about the appearance of this supposed rare delicacy in the servants’ dinner, she’d replied, “Oh, Dove always has me order enough of whatever I get for the family so that we can have the same. Bless her, though most of the household staff don’t care for some of the strange things rich folk eat. So, I just chop it up and mix it into something like stew. And no one’s the wiser!”

She’d laughed, and I’d smiled along with her, taking a tentative bite of the squid. It wasn’t half bad. Chewy, with a novel squishy texture that was a nice contrast to the soft bite of squash, potato, and lentil in the rest of the stew. I finished every last spoonful, keeping Choia company while she prepped dough for tomorrow’s loaves and then set it magically kneading itself on the counter as she bustled around cleaning off the counters. When she saw my empty bowl, the gnome plopped in another ladleful of stew without me having to ask.

As I chewed my second helping more slowly, I turned over Choia’s words. It was… interesting. So Dove supplied the same fancy food she eats to her servants as well. Why? A sense of guilt, maybe. Or a passing whim.

Or, a tiny voice in my head pipes up, she might actually care for the people she hired and wished to treat them well.

Nonsense. I knew the measure of Lady Dovenesdrea Iniri Wistrallo III, and I just needed to focus on gaining her trust and continuing to make allies within the household. Someone was bound to crack eventually. Meanwhile, I’d continue snooping.

Now, I tossed on a fresh shirt and layered what I thought of as my thieving leathers over it. Might as well keep looking the part. The family expected to see a bodyguard, so I’d worn them to the interview yesterday—the top covering my torso from waist to collar, the pants long and not too tight, wrapping just snugly enough around my stout, firm legs and tapering to a perfect tuck in my boots. The whole outfit was made of soft, supple leather so dark brown that it was almost black, imbued with the same silencing magic that was in my shoes and a protection spell of some sort that resisted puncturing.

I’d learned that the hard way when a tavern brawl exploded one night, and a drunken man’s blade missed his target and found my thigh instead. There had been a small rip in the leather, and a droplet of blood had welled where the tip of the knife had pushed through, but it had been a scratch rather than a deep stabbing. I rarely went out into the city at night without donning my leathers after that. Few perks to life in the Takers Guild, as I’ve discovered, but access to a fully stocked storeroom of stolen weapons, armor, and clothes—when Zephyra was feeling generous, of course—was definitely one of them.

A soft knock at my hallway door brought me back to the present.

“Maerryl? Are you awake?” Petra said in an almost whisper.

I unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing the maid’s sunny, tentative smile. She carried another full tray atop a pile of fresh linens. At the last second, I resisted frowning back. You need to charm her. It’s not her fault you’re an absolute beast in the morning.