Dimitry massaged shampoo into his hair. It foamed into a rich lather on his scalp, filling the bathtub’s steamy air with the scent of assorted berries. He took a deep breath to savor it. Then, as procedure demanded, he rinsed with hot water that flowed from a showerhead. Water that he didn’t have to boil himself.
A comfort long forgotten.
“Dumitry, wake—”
“Just a little longer,” he said. “I’m almost done.”
Precious was rude to interrupt him during a shower. And why was she inside his home in the first place? Considering he kept the front door to his condominium locked, she shouldn’t have been able to enter. Who on Earth let her in?
Earth.
Something was off.
Dimitry’s eyes shot open.
A thatch roof supported by browning wooden beams hung overhead. Heavy droplets crashed against and around the stable, moisturized manure fouling the air with its stench.
The shower was just a dream. Disappointment welled within, only for discombobulation to take its place. Dimitry didn’t even remember falling asleep.
Straw rustled.
He turned his head to discover Saphiria’s bare feet. Body wrapped in towels, she held a faerie in one hand and gripped a dagger in the other. Although she approached reluctantly, her hollow indigo eyes screamed to exact vengeance for a deceased master.
Adrenaline flooded Dimitry’s veins, and a heart pounded against his chest, tossing him into wakefulness. He backed up into a wall.
The collar around Saphiria’s neck.
If he didn’t disable its enchantment soon, the girl would murder him. Where did he put that damned thing? Right. Inside the bag. His eyes scanned the room only to find it on the other side of the stable.
Crap.
Dimitry would die if he ran for the scarf. He needed a distraction. Thankfully, they disrupted the binding ceremony before the collar was re-enchanted, weakening its brain-washing effects.
“Fight it, Saphiria. You’re no one’s slave anymore.”
She pressed a hand to her forehead as if wrestling with a migraine.
He jumped up and, shoulder forward, barged through Saphiria, knocking her to the floor. His fist punched into the bag, grabbed the dispelia scarf, and tossed it at her face.
As if by instinct, Saphiria tore at the cloth.
Precious used the chance to escape. “Illumina!”
Light flooded Saphiria’s eyes.
Dimitry dashed to wrap the scarf around the girl’s neck like a hitman would choke out their victim. He tied its ends into a knot before retreating.
Saphiria flailed around for a moment and dropped the dagger. “I… I.”
“Dumitry!” Precious hugged his arm.
He took a deep breath and fell back into a pile of straw. What a shitty morning.
“Is everything fine in there?” A woman’s face peeked through ajar stable doors. Her eyes opened wide. “Zera save—”
Saphiria lunged forward. She pressed a hand against the woman’s mouth and held a blade to her throat.
“Don’t kill her!” Dimitry said.
He crawled to his leather bag and fumbled around for the snoozia canister and a vol pellet. “Move away from her, but don’t take your hand off of her mouth.”
Saphiria nodded.
“I’m so sorry, madam. We can never thank you enough for your hospitality.” Dimitry held the canister to the woman’s torso. “Snoozia.”
As searing pain flowed through his chest and arms, the woman’s body went limp.
Saphiria caught her before she fell.
They dragged her inside, leaving her to sleep on a pile of straw.
Dimitry glanced at his palms. Throbbing purple circuits bled blue liquid through his skin. The knight imprint on his wrist irritated them further while tugging towards Estoria. Ignoring the pulsating pain, he put on his damp cloak and repacked his leather bag.
“Saphiria, get dressed. Precious, keep a lookout.”
“Yup!”
A knock came from where the stable wall attached to the cottage. “Agnes, is everything okay in there?” a man’s muffled voice asked.
Dimitry looked at Saphiria. “Ready to go?”
She pulled a hood over her head. “I’ll get Julia.”
“No, leave her here.”
“Why?”
“We can’t take her with us.”
Saphiria turned towards the horse. “But—”
Dimitry grabbed her trembling hand. “I know you and Julia share a bond, but Amalthean guards are looking for two cloaked fugitives riding a black horse. Even if we somehow sneak her into Estoria, we can’t take her on a boat with us. She’ll be happier here.”
Frowning, she glared at Dimitry.
“You know it has to be done.”
“… you’re right.” Saphiria took one last look at Julia. “I’ll miss you.”
Perhaps sensing the mood, the black horse grumbled a gentle nicker.
Dimitry watched the girl force herself out of the stable. He felt guilt separating the two, but survival demanded sacrifices from everyone. “I’ll come back for you someday, Julia.”
The horse shook its head and snorted.
“Precious, hop inside.”
The faerie dove under his cloak, and he dashed out into a world capped by turbid clouds. They leaked giant droplets and roared an occasional thunderclap. Weather just as miserable as yesterday. Muddy water flooded the roads and seeped into Dimitry’s boots, making them nothing more than frigid sacks that weighed down every step.
It was a silent journey until Saphiria spoke. “About last night.”
Dimitry sighed. “Before you ask, I didn’t do anything to you while you slept.”
“It’s not that.” Her head jerked up. “I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t want to kill—”
“It was your collar, right?” Dimitry smiled like he would to ease a concerned patient. “I’m not blaming you because it’s not your fault.”
“But I tried to stab you this morning as well.” She looked away. “You shouldn’t trust me.”
“We could both take the blame for that one. You almost murdered me, and I didn’t want to put the scarf on you in case you were discovered while you slept. Though, if I’m honest, you ruined a really nice dream I was having. You owe me for that one.”
“I… I’m sorry.”
“I was joking. Still, if you could get me a job at the castle when we get to Malten, I’d gladly take that as recompense.”
“Father would hire a skilled physician such as yourself without my persuasion, but if that’s what it takes, you have my word.”
“How about my apology?” Precious mused. “You grabbed me and woke me from my beauty sleep without so much as a warning.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Saphiria stopped walking, turned to face the faerie hiding under Dimitry’s cloak, and bowed. “I’m really sorry, Precious. I’ve truly disgraced myself.”
“I uh… I was kidding. Lighten up, will you? Or do I have to cast illumina again?”
“What a terrible pun. I thought you were better than that.”
“Shut up, Dumitry.”
----------------------------------------
Muddy roads converged and transitioned into an intricately carved stone path as Estoria approached. Growing taller and taller with every step, the city’s gatehouse and walls towered as if reaching for angry skies above. Battlements waving majestic flags, cannons with overly short barrels, and inbuilt garrisons. Every fortification was built to inspire awe worthy of a kingdom’s capital.
Most impressive of all was a massive gold-glowing gate. Leading to it was a line comprising hopeful citizens, travelers, and merchant carts. Guards patrolled the queue, questioning anyone hoping to enter the city. They were searching for someone.
Was that someone Dimitry?
Given their many diversions and the haste with which news traveled, the answer was yes. They arrived too late to pass without arousing suspicion. Invisall wasn’t an option, either. If Dimitry’s overloaded arms weren’t reason enough, armed guards wearing gray-glowing breastplates stood at the gate’s entrance, gaps between them too narrow to squeeze by undetected. An invisible man pushing through would be suspicious.
Leaning against a bathhouse’s outer wall, Dimitry glanced away from Estoria’s gate. “We can’t stay here long. Someone will get suspicious eventually. Any ideas?”
Precious shrugged. “I mean, I could just fly over, and Saphiria doesn’t have weirdo eyes to give her away, so I think you’re the only one that’s screwed.”
“Really? After all we’ve been through, you’re just going to give up on me?”
“I’m not giving up on you! I’m just thinking, okay? Give me a break.”
Dimitry clicked his teeth. “Saphiria, back in that abandoned tavern, you mentioned you were familiar with Estoria. Do you know any way to sneak me in?”
Looking down at her boots, Saphiria bit her lip. “It’s not that easy.”
“What if we try another entrance?”
“The northern and southern gatehouses are just as well-guarded as this one, and entering through the beach is impossible because of the heathen barrier.”
“Then let’s just pay a merchant caravan to smuggle us in.”
“No one will risk their trading permits after seeing my scarf or your eyes. Even if we somehow bribe them to forgo a large bounty, guards will discover us well before we can pass the portcullis.”
“And if I sneak in by sticking to the underside of a cart?”
“That’s reckless, and the driver will notice.”
“How about a secret underground tunnel or a hidden sewer entrance?”
Saphiria looked up at him with big, inquisitive indigo eyes. “Why would anyone design city walls with obvious flaws? Is your home like that?”
“Let the record show that Dumitry was being serious.”
Suppressing the urge to lash out at a faerie who judged others while being useless herself, Dimitry restlessly fiddled with the hem of his tunic. His repository of medieval infiltration scenes from modern media had failed him. What the hell was he to do now? No other nearby city offered travel by ship, and word of their infamy had probably reached the entire damned kingdom by now. There was nowhere else to go.
A long silence passed before Saphiria spoke. “You should get caught.”
“Excuse me, madam.” Precious’s head shot out from under a damp hood. “Are you insane?!”
Avoiding his aching circuits, Saphiria nudged Dimitry’s palm. “I know it sounds strange, but I mean you no harm.”
Precious’s gaze traveled downward. “She’s… she’s for real. I’m hanging out with a bunch of lunatics.”
Although the idea was indeed insane, the glint in the girl’s eyes was steadfast, as if yearning to demonstrate a latent talent that trumped all odds. The confidence resembled Dimitry’s when he insisted on suturing the laceration traversing Saphiria’s arm. Her pleas were those of a professional offering their help.
“I’m listening.”
“Oh no,” Precious muttered. “They’re too far gone.”
Saphiria pointed at the gold-glowing gates. “When guards arrest a criminal, they take them to a temporary detention chamber. That’s where the captain will either decide your punishment or deliver you to someone important, like the shire-reeve. The guard captain is usually isolated during gatehouse duty.”
“Are you suggesting that I take out the captain while he’s choosing what to do with me? You know I can’t fight.”
“I’ll be there to help.”
“And you definitely won’t abandon me?” Dimitry asked.
“I couldn’t. Not after everything you’ve risked for me.”
“So I can count on you?”
Saphiria watched him with unflinching eyes. “I won’t let you down.”
“Let’s give it a whirl, then.”
“W-wait!” Precious tugged Dimitry’s earlobe. “Are you hearing yourself? Can you trust your life with someone you met only a few days ago?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“No, but—”
“Then I rather not waste time while you two freeze to death in a storm only for someone to eventually find us under less favorable circumstances.” Dimitry turned to face Saphiria. “I want you to get in line several spots ahead of me.”
“Understood.”
“Precious, go with her.”
“Why can't I stay with you?”
“Three reasons: I need you to enter the city before I do, you’re more useful if you help Saphiria track me, and if you stay with me, you’ll probably die if something goes wrong.”
“I guess that makes sense…” Precious climbed out from under Dimitry’s cloak and into Saphiria’s. “Just be careful.”
Dimitry forced a grin. “Always am.”
“No, you’re not. Maniac.”
----------------------------------------
The line advanced at a crawl’s pace. Whenever guards strutted by, they shot passing glances at Dimitry from the side, each narrow-eyed glare stifling his breath.
Dimitry had to avoid being found.
At least until Saphiria entered Estoria. Only her dark cloak was visible from the back of the queue. She spoke unheard words to an iron pike-wielding guard, who let her through the gate.
The first part of the plan was a success, but that did nothing to stop Dimitry’s fidgeting.
What if Saphiria and Precious figured him an unnecessary hazard—a surgeon who knew only to mend wounds—abandoning him to the whims of Estoria’s authorities once they reached safety? Nothing stopped them from traveling to Coldust and Malten alone. They had no reason to help. The girl’s loyal gaze instilled Dimitry with confidence when they conversed, but dread had since taken its place.
He decided to enter the city by normal means. There was no point in betting his life on the whims of uncertain stratagems and allies when simple deception could avert peril. Or so he hoped.
As the gatehouse drew nearer, the scattered shouting of Estoria’s east main street became distinguishable from crackling thunder, pattering rain, and the chatter of other hopeful migrants.
A patrolling guard stopped. Their leather-garbed arm grabbed Dimitry’s shoulder. “Ye come from far, friend?”
He suppressed his urge to run, looking at the floor instead to conceal his eyes. “From The Holy Kingdom of Zera.”
“Here on a pilgrimage, then?”
“No, just a patient visit.”
“What do ye mean?”
Dimitry opened his leather bag and displayed its contents to the guard. “I’m a doctor. I have an important patient who lives in Estoria.”
The guard rummaged through his tools and toyed with a pair of scissors. “Oh, a surgeon then!” His tone brightened. “One of yer folk saved me after a swarm of flying devils attacked the harbor. Who’s yer patient?”
Dimitry’s eyes darted across the flooded stone pathway. He didn’t know anyone living in Estoria. “Milli.”
“And where does she live?”
“By the church.”
“Which one?”
“… The one near main street.”
“There’re three main streets.” The guard’s grip on Dimitry’s shoulder tightened. “Why don’t ye look at me when ye speak? I know it’s pourin’, but it’s rude.”
“I have tuberculosis. I don’t want to infect you with it.”
“What? Just show me yer face.”
“Trust me, it’s really bad.”
The guard jerked his shoulder. “Don’t fuck with me.”
Cursing his damn eye color, Dimitry clenched his teeth. Deception failed. His only choice was to believe in Saphiria. He looked up.
The guard’s brown eyebrows furrowed. “… ye got a friend nearby by any chance?”
“No, I’m here alone.”
“Move.”
Dimitry’s mouth dried as he stumbled past the line and through the gatehouse. The guard led him to a small, isolated room embedded in the city’s inner wall. A single man equipped with intimidating armor sat at a desk, scrolling through a roll of parchment.
“Captain. There’s a man who fits a description.”
The captain rolled up the yellow sheet and dropped it onto his desk. He pulled off Dimitry’s hood and studied his face. “Hold him down for me.”
Eyes gleaming, the guard clamped a leather gauntlet around Dimitry’s neck. “Does this mean we got him, sir?”
The captain grinned. “Tell no one else about this, and I’ll split the bounty between just us.”
“Yes, sir!”
Shit. Saphiria said Dimitry would be alone in the room with the captain. Was she wrong? Did she say that just to get rid of him?
“I was suspicious,” the captain said, “when every messenger from Ravenfall warned us about the same ‘disappearing man’ with pale green eyes. To think you existed after all.”
Dimitry rubbed a sweaty palm against his drenched cloak. He didn’t know if Saphiria would come. Praying she would, he stalled to give her time to find an opportunity to strike. “You two have the wrong person. I’m just a surgeon.”
The man removed his plumed helmet, and an orange-gray beard poured out. “I’ve served as a gatehouse captain for decades and never seen no one with your features. Who else could you be?”
“It’s just a coincidence.”
“Your hands are overloaded. Is that why you didn’t use your strange magic to sneak in?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you know how many people tried to lie to me? Do you know how few survived?”
“Please tell me all about it.”
“Where you’re going, you don’t need to know.”
Dimitry couldn’t stall much longer. He desperately scanned outside the room for Saphiria. She wasn’t there. Preparing to take matters into his own hands, his gaze locked onto the captain’s enchanted sword.
“You’re lucky His Royal Majesty Gregorious wants you alive. Personally, I would love to behead you right here and now.” He displayed a yellow-tooth grin. “It’s been too long since I killed a wizard instead of some—”
A sudden light.
It burned into the captain’s eyes. His gloved hand instinctively rose to cover his face, but a flying dagger pierced the palm.
“Sir?!” the guard shouted.
Dimitry reached for the sword in the captain’s scabbard, but the guard’s boot pummeled into his hip, throwing him to the ground.
The guard reached for his weapon.
Saphiria emerged from around a corner, kicked away the guard’s rusted mace, and tightened a black rope around his neck. The guard squirmed, but he could not escape her grasp.
“Are you well?” she asked, strangulating a man.
“Fine!” Dimitry dragged the weighty sword from the distracted captain’s scabbard and pummeled the hilt into his face.
Fury and fear surged through Dimitry. As if moving on its own, the hilt rammed into the captain’s face again and again until only a bleeding countenance remained. The man lay unresponsive.
“So much for a pacifist,” Precious mused.
Once the guard fell unconscious, Saphiria pulled her dagger out of the unmoving captain’s hand and aimed it at the guard’s throat.
Dimitry snapped out of his trance and dropped the bloodied sword. Its dense iron clanged against the stone floor as he darted towards the guard with a palm held out.
Saphiria looked up at him.
Everything within Dimitry demanded to yell ‘don’t kill him’, but he also knew that keeping the guard alive would alert all of Estoria to his presence, endangering himself, Saphiria, and Precious. Perhaps if Dimitry was alone he could take all the risk onto himself. But he wasn’t.
He lowered his hand and turned away, vowing to one day make up for his crimes in lives saved. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. However many it took.
Saphiria slit both men’s throats. “We have to leave. Now.”
They dashed towards a distant alleyway and hid between two narrow walls.
“Saphiria,” Dimitry said, ignoring the muted guilt clawing at his gut, “thanks for not leaving me behind.”
“I promised not to let you down.”
“And you didn’t.”
A guard ran into the isolated room, shouted, and rushed back to the gatehouse.
“Is that bad?” Dimitry asked.
“A little.” Saphiria grabbed his arm. “I know Estoria well. Follow me.”