Rodrick, the headsman of Kilnar, was having a strange day.

He hated strange days.

“Lady, what kind of ignorant fool do you take me for!?” The man’s withering gaze made the young woman in front of him visibly shrink.

“You expect me to believe that you took out one of the most wanted criminals in three duchies!? Let me tell you, you ain't the first person to try pulling this kind of stunt on me. Hell, you’re the fourth person who’s tried to claim a bounty without proper evidence today alone!”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“But this?” He gestured at the counter between them. “This really takes the cake.”

The woman opened her mouth to try and explain, but was interrupted:

“I don’t want to hear it. Get out.”

“But-” She tried to interject.

“Get. OUT!” Rodrick roared.

The woman stomped out petulantly. Rodrick pressed his hands to his face and sighed. After the day he’d had, he was ready to close up early and head to Dani’s for some well deserved booze.

“Heh. An ear, really? I swear some people think that bounties work the way they do in books.” He shook his head while sweeping the offending body part into a rubbish bin. “Idiots.”

He strode to the door, flipped the sign to ‘closed’, and slid the bolt to its locked position. He was halfway through scrubbing the bloodstains off of the counter when he heard a sharp rapping at the door. He was was going to ignore it, and maybe slip out the back, when a very familiar voice came from outside:

“Rod! I know you’re in there! I’ve got someone you need to talk to.” The voice demanded.

Rodrick sighed. Anyone else he would’ve blown off, but the Captain of the Kilnar Guard was not someone he wanted mad at him. He opened the door to reveal the draconid guard and a woman who was wearing the Captain’s much too large cloak, obscuring her features.

“How’d you know I was still here? I could’ve been drinking by now.” Rodrick grumped.

“Because I know you Rod. And I had to take four idiots from your tender mercies to jail today. So I checked Dani’s first.”

The headsman locked the door behind the pair and gestured them over to a table.

“So Sam, what brings you and your friend here?”

Sam looked at Gem for a moment before answering.

“Violet Glade was hit by raiders. From the descriptions, it sounds like the Crimson Drakes.”

“How sure are you?” Rodrick queried.

“As I can be without more information.”

“Fuck.”

“Indeed. Then there’s the other thing, and the main reason we’re here.” Sam’s expression and voice softened considerably as their gaze moved to Gem’s concealed form. “Go ahead and show him.”

Gem slid the cloak off of herself and onto the back of the chair she sat in, revealing the half-demoness and her tattered dress. Rodrick had to admit to himself that she was rather cute; he particularly liked the stubby onyx horns that peeked through her platinum hair.

But the object she placed on the table quickly overshadowed whatever he may have thought about the young woman. A black-and-red blade and its matching scabbard. A blade he knew well. He picked it up carefully and inspected it. He pulled a knife out and was about to cut open the leather on the handle when he paused.

“May I?” He requested.

Gem nodded and gave a soft, “Go ahead.”

Rodrick slowly and carefully dissected the handle. Once only bare metal was left he stared at the maker’s mark with intense scrutiny.

“I’ll be a divine devil. This is a genuine Homel. That makes it the blade of one Vera Black, better known as the Knife of the Crimson Drakes. Now I really want to know how you got a hold of it.”

“I killed her.” Gem said almost from a trance.

“Now I’m not saying you didn’t, but you don’t strike me as a trained fighter, and while your aura is quite substantial, it’s certainly not enough to overwhelm someone like the Knife. So how’d you do it?”

Gem was at a loss for how to explain. Of course she couldn’t have done it on her own, but she was wary of revealing Abigail to these strangers. Seeing her indecision, Abigail took the initiative. The black book floated out from a large pocket in the cloak and onto the table. Her latches clicked softly before she smoothly opened to lie flat on the table.

> That would be where I come in.

> Hi, I’m Abigail. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

> We have a lot to discuss.

There was a solid thirty seconds of silence after all three read the words on Abigail’s surface, which were helpfully replicated in different orientations for each reader.

> Umm, hello? Are you going to say something? Or are you just going to stare?

> Oh, and Rod? I’d recommend closing your jaw before something flies into it.

“A talking book? What are you?” Rod finally asked.

> I’m a grimoire. The Charred Grimoire, to be precise.

> That makes me an Artifact, by the way.

“Well damn. That’s something to cross off our bucket lists: See an Artifact.” Sam remarked then turned to Rodrick. “Break out the alcohol Rod, this deserves a drink!” They enthused.

The two shared a drink, although Gem declined to partake at Abigail’s urging. Then, without warning, Abigail bent backwards with a series of sickening pops and snaps.

“The fuck was that!?” Rod exclaimed while Sam merely sipped at their drink.

> Oh, that? That was just the sound of my bones dislocating. Don’t worry about it. Now you can all read me more easily!

>

> If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“You have bones?” Rod asked, befuddled.

> Of course! I am a grimoire! Do keep up.

> Moving on, I need to regal you with our epic tale of near-death, running, more near-death, more running, and even more near-death!

>

> So I find Gem here hiding from some very nasty men. Being the nice, upstanding book I am, I offer her a Bond. She accepted, so I picked a fun little spell that let us turn eight of the bastards into worm food. It was effective, but very messy.

“Define ‘very nasty men’ for me.” Sam requested.

> The kind of men that kidnap innocent people and sell them into slavery.

Sam nodded grimly.

> So next, after a few … less than successful attempts at fighting and harassing our pursuers, we finally settled on outrunning them with an alacrity spell. That was mostly a success, with only one person managing to keep pace.

“Let me guess, that was the Knife?” Rod asked.

> Yup, though we didn’t know who she was then. I set up a siege-grade bolter with aura-burn bolts. It was going well until she made a last ditch charge. So I detonated the spell. The resultant explosion hurt a lot, almost killed Gem, and did kill Vera.

“Forgive my ignorance, but could you elaborate on what a ‘siege-grade bolter’ is?” Sam asked curiously.

> I don’t mind at all. A siege-grade bolter is a spell formation that is typically inscribed as part of fixed or semi-fixed defenses. It includes provisions for aiming directly in the spell itself, allowing a skilled operator to quickly track and dispatch targets. This is aided by its capability for continuous operation, letting the operator fire as long as the spell is provided with sufficient Aether. In permanent defensive scenarios, the spell is usually tied to an Aether conduit, making the limit based on how efficiently an operator can use the control formations, with some even capable of achieving Aether consumption rates below their natural regeneration.

“A little more in depth than I needed, but thank you.” Sam thanked the book.

> Returning from that tangent, Gem and I then rested for the night. After a little magical cartography, we walked to Kilnar, where we met Sam. The rest you both already know.

“Speaking of maps, can you tell me where the Knife’s body is? I’d like to properly confirm her death.” Rod asked.

> I can do even better than that.

Abigail’s surface shifted into the map she’d used earlier that day to guide Gem. The red path that linked the clearing with Kilnar was even present.

“Well that’s useful. Just let me mark that down.”

Rod quickly grabbed a map from behind the counter and jotted down the clearing and path onto it.

“Alright, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m willing to take this sword off of your hands for a partial bounty, with the rest after I confirm the Knife’s death. Next, I’d like to take you on as a student. Booky here can certainly teach you how to be a twinkle-fingers, but I doubt it can teach you how to fight. Whadda say?”

> Firstly, my name isn’t ‘Booky’. It’s Abigail. Secondly, we accept your offer of a partial bounty. Thirdly, we will consider your offer of mentorship AFTER Gem has had a proper meal and a full night’s rest. She’s in no shape to be making major life-altering decisions right now.

“If I want to call you Booky, I’ll darn well call you Booky!” Rod ribbed.

> I will slap you, old man.

“She’s got a point Rod.” Sam interrupted, then quickly shot to Abigail, “You use ‘she’, right?”

> Yes, she/her. Thanks for asking.

“Wasn’t planning on trying to do anything tonight. I’ve got to head out and check on that body before the scavengers get to it. I was hoping you could help me out with that. I doubt I’ll meet any of those bastards out there, but you never know.” Rod explained to Sam.

“I’m willing to help. After I get Gem and Abigail settled.” Sam’s face then opened into a toothy and predatory grin. “Let’s grab our resident spell-slinger and make a proper party of it. It’ll be just like old times. Plus it’ll keep him out Abigail and Gem’s hair for a while.”

“Good plan. Let’s get these two settled then go draft ‘ole Sparky.”

Sam cleaned up the empty glasses and the half-empty bottle of alcohol while Rodrick rummaged about behind the counter.

“Here’s the bounty I owe ya.” Rodrick remarked as he plunked a bag of coins down in front of Gem.

Gem poured the coins out and stared at the money in front of her.

“Is this the whole bounty?” She asked, befuddled.

“No, it’s only the advance for the sword. You’ll get the other eighty percent when I confirm the death.”

Gem just kept staring. The Gilded Crowns before her were from the elven currency used by most everyone in the region. Named after parts of a tree, they started with the Tin Root, then progressed through the Copper Leaf, the Silver Branch, the Golden Trunk, the Gilded Crown, and the Mythril Tree. As one progressed each coin was worth ten of the previous, with the exception of the Leaf, which was worth twenty Roots, rather than the usual ten. This made each Gilded Crown before here worth a thousand Copper Leafs. In a region where the typical annual family income was ten Gilded Crowns, it was a small fortune. And it was only one fifth of the total bounty!

“It’s too much.” Gem mumbled.

“Nonsense!” Sam insisted, “You managed to kill one of the most dangerous people in the entire Queendom and lived to tell the tale. The bounty is yours to keep. We can keep some of it safe for you, if that would make you more comfortable.”

Gem nodded, and Sam scooped up nine of the shiny coins and hurled them at Rodrick. Between the draconoid’s uncanny accuracy and Rodricks swift reflexes, only two of the coins hit the ground.

“Put those back in your safe for her.” Sam directed.

“Yeah, yeah. It is a rather large bounty.” Rodrick murmured in assent.

“Alright, let’s go introduce you to Dani. He’ll take good care of you until we get back.” Sam said.

> Hey, I’m going to go back to pretending to be an ordinary book. I’d rather not try to explain myself to everyone we cross paths with. Plus someone might try to do something stupid.

Sam nodded. “Probably a good call. You can trust Dani though: we go back a long time.”

> I’ll take that under advisement, thanks.

With that Abigail returned to her hiding spot in Sam’s oversized cloak after Gem donned it. The four walked out of the Headhunter’s office and though the streets bathed in late afternoon oranges. After a short walk they made it to Dani’s Tavern and Inn and entered.

“Good afternoon Samuel. The usual Rod? And who’s this?” The elven man greeted as he sauntered over to the group, causing his dress to swish in enjoyable ways.

“Nothing for me tonight, I’m afraid. Sam and I have work to do. We’re just here to drop off this young woman. Her name’s Gem, she needs some grub and a place to sleep.” Rodrick explained.

“I can pay.” Gem stated as she began fishing her coin pouch out of the oversized cloak.

“Nonsense! I wouldn’t dream of charging a guest of Samuel and Rodrick!” Dani declared.

“Thanks for that. I’d appreciate it a lot if you could keep an eye on Gem for me: she’s been through a lot. She also needs some new clothes, and I can’t think of anyone in town with better fashion sense than you.” Sam warmly requested.

“Oh absolutely! I’d be delighted to help her out.” Dani enthused.

“Glad to hear it. And before you ask, yes, the reasons Gem’s had a rough couple of days and our work tonight are related. I’m also not willing to talk about what may or may not have happened where errant ears could hear.” Sam replied.

“I understand. When do you expect to be back?”

“Very late tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Alright. I’ll see you when you get back then. Spirits guide you.”

“Thanks Dani. See ya.” Rodrick said before he and Sam turned to leave.

A moment after they had left, Sam popped their head back in:

“Hey Dani? We’re also taking Spaerekel with us, just so you know.”

Dani nodded, then turned to Gem.

“Now I can introduce myself properly. I am Danithseil Deeproot, eighty-fourth of the line of the undying azure. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but please call me Dani.” He said with a deep bow and intricate flourish.

“Hi, I’m Gem Zl’kal.” Gem replied, a little lost after Dani’s display.

Or maybe it was not having eaten in over twenty-four hours.

“I love the name. Now, my young demoness, let’s get you fed, cleaned, and then into bed!”

“But my mom and I are only halves.” Gem protested.

“And I’m half dryad, but I don’t let a few errant pine needles define me!” Dani countered.

Abigail approved of how the banter raised Gem’s spirit. Plus she had already met so many interesting people, and it wasn’t even her third day out yet!