I knew I shouldn’t have walked into Gideon’s Inn smelling the way I did. It was just asking to be ostracized and tormented, even shut out before I made it halfway to the door.

But Gideon was a friend, and friends didn’t judge you if you smelled like you trudged for the sewage pipes for an hour straight.

Or so I hoped. Gideon was kind of an ass, after all.

Pushing open the door, the noise from the tavern hit me like a slap in the face. The stove's heat clung to me like a stagnant blanket. Laughter and cheer reverberated around the room, making me feel like an outsider. It was like the very air in the room was saying, ‘You don't belong here.’

I hesitated for a moment, but then I spotted Gideon manning the bar top with a pitcher of ale in hand. His crimson eyes met mine, and a smile spread across his face with those two large tusks poking out of his bottom lip. It was enough to bolster my courage.

I made my way through the crowded tavern, trying not to draw too much attention to the smell that clung to me like a curse. Gideon waved me over, and I slid onto a stool across from him, grateful for the familiar face in the sea of strangers.

“Rough day?” Gideon asked, twisting around to grab a bottle of wine. I smiled, accepting the glass of red happily. He knew how much I hated ale. It tasted like a donkey’s ass.

Not that I’d ever know, of course.

I took a long swig before responding. “You could say that,” I mumbled. “You ever fought a wizard?”

Gideon’s eyes widened, jaw going slack. “Who in the hells did you piss off, Saira?”

I smirked. “Nobody important. Some blubbering fool who has to fabricate a partner with magic so he doesn’t seem lonely.” I slipped my hands into my pocket and produced the stolen necklace, just enough to show him under the lip of the bar, before returning it to its spot inside my cloak. “But I got my coin, so damn the rest.”

“Saira!” he hissed and leaned forward. “That rock is enough to pay off this bar. Who in the hells did you get that from?”

“Whoever that wizard got it from. It doesn’t matter—it’s mine, and come the morning, I’ll turn it into my client and collect my coin.”

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Gideon laughed deep in his chest. “Keep it close, friend. You’re playing with fire.”

“When am I not?” Gideon and I grinned at each other, and he offered his mug for cheers.

“To burning in the deepest pits of all known hells, Saira.”

----------------------------------------

After a few more drinks, and one too many stories about Gideon’s time in war, I walked around the side of the tavern and took the cellar door to my makeshift room beneath the bar. Gideon was a good friend. Perhaps my first friend since I escaped the Black Hand. He gave me shelter when I had all but forgotten what a warm fireplace and stiff cots felt like.

And, to think we started our friendship after I stabbed him in the back. Literally, of course. I’m not cruel.

Just a hair violent. Good thing for me, the bald orc was just as violent. It was destined.

It didn’t take long for me to throw out the soiled clothes and soak in a bath until the water turned tepid. After drying off and getting into my nightwear, I walked to the table and picked up the necklace. It glistened against the warm, dull firelight. It was this brilliant red ruby with sapphires surrounding the teardrop cut. It was warm to the touch—unnaturally so. It almost buzzed against the skin of my palm. I was no fool, I knew that wizards played more tricks than trolls under a bridge.

Scholarly bastards.

I set it down and sighed. A few more hours and I could return to the heart of Petria to turn in the necklace. My focus shifted just right to the leather satchel I’d managed to save from sewage water. I opened it slowly, removing the contents one by one. A small knife, some lint, a map, and the most important thing I own—outside of the necklace, of course.

I unwrapped the dragonbone. Now this…this was hot to the touch. It radiated with this ethereal energy that was dangerous, tempting, and more than anything else, sought after. It was too dangerous to take with me and even more dangerous to leave behind.

So, basically, I was forced to go everywhere with it.

I wondered how many people had a number over my head for this very artifact. I left the Black Hand years ago, but I took the only thing that gave them power with me. I hadn’t a clue what good this dragonbone did in the grand scheme of things, but it was great for hiding precious artifacts and finding hard-to-reach places.

It helped me when I had nobody on my side.

That, in itself, was a dark truth. Perhaps Gideon wasn’t my first friend. Instead, it was this stupid rock that glistened every time I put it in my palm. I traced the runes that lifted off the smooth surface, grabbing the necklace and holding it over the light.

Within seconds, it vanished.

I sighed, wrapping up the stone and throwing it back into my satchel. I fucking hated magic, but this thing was a good luck charm. Gideon said I was playing with fire with that damned necklace, but nothing was more dangerous than this rock.

It gave me power. I didn’t know how to use magic, didn’t care to learn either, but this was the closest thing to wielding dark energy since growing up inside the Black Hand.

A few more hours, and I’d be rich.

A few more hours, I’d be done with this life.

A few more fucking hours.