“Do I know you?” Aquilan asked, looking right at me.

Just kept telling myself — keep cool, Zach, keep cool.

“I think we met at Brindletree,” I said.

His eyes raked across me. Then a look of quiet recognition crossed his face.

“A tavern. We shared wine.”

“Yeah! The Squirrel.”

“Sure,” he said, then turned to his subordinate. They talked with the Kobold about whether he had any pastries ready, and what they could have instead, and on and on.

I pulled out my slate and checked my spells. Aquilan was immune to sleep because he was an elf. Charm only had a 22% chance to work on him. 11% if he was hostile. Plus or minus some, if I cursed him first.

I also had Edge of Nothing if I really got in a tough spot, but I had no Idea how the sword worked. I’d been too scared to pull it out, and really figure out what it could do.

“What was your name again?” he asked me. I put my slate away.

“Breznik. Aquilan, was it?” I asked.

“Yes. It is,” he said. “My compatriots and I were headed to the parlor to watch an impromptu rendition of Strife Among the Stars, Episode VIII. Would you like to come with us?”

That was weird. Why was he being so nice to me? Was he trying to pump me for information? Why would they send him to the castle in the first place? He didn’t seem like a diplomat.

“Say,” he started conversationally, “Swordfall is quite a ways from the Kingswood. My compatriots and I traveled through the rootway, old elven forest magic. How did you get here so fast?”

“Took a portal,” I said.

“Oh really? Well, my curiosity is sated. How do you like this human play? My men can’t stop talking about it.”

I wasn’t caught up on Strife Among the Stars. I’d gotten the folios from the library, and worked my way through Episode V. Caleb had decided to do his version of the story chronologically, instead of release order, so by the time I got to Episode IV the story had drifted so much that hardly any of it resembled its source material.

Luke was black, for one. For two, wise old warrior hermit Benni was a woman, and kind of a lecherous drunk. The setting was more steampunk, also. The most striking thing to me was that there was a real undercurrent of the horror of war, and how it twisted people into unrecognizable shapes, that the original didn’t have, while still retaining a lot of the fun.

I kind of loved it! Who knew Caleb had the soul of a poet?

“I think it’s brilliant!” I finally said. “The way it mixes classic heroism and adventure with more complex themes — like the price of violence, and how hegemonic structures destroy our connection to each other — it’s fascinating!”

“Right,” he said. “Well I haven’t seen it. I heard the sword fights were quite good.”

I walked next to Aquilan. His subordinate was only level 4, interestingly enough.

“So,” he continued. “What do you know of the Promised Heroes?”

“Um,” I started to say, wracking my brain for the best way to answer without giving too much, “well King Caleb is one. I don’t know much about it, really.”

This was only somewhat of a lie. I knew that the prophecy was around before Caleb got here, but after he started really taking off as a public figure the mystique around it grew. I wasn't 100% sure how I, or any of the others, tied into it yet, but I didn’t think it was a big deal.

“Oh, it’s a fascinating bit of folklore,” the elf continued, “some say it was delivered by the Warden himself to the humans. Others say that it is nothing but a rumor started by an old hero, a Sorceress, to scare her opponents into submission. Regardless, the small folk seem quite taken with it.”

“Okay!” I said.

“Ah! We’re here,” Aquilan said. He presented his hand toward the door in the wall. His subordinate opened the door, revealing a quaint parlor containing several chairs and couches. There also stood three more elven warriors in chainmail. I saw nobody dressed in costume, or people dressed for a play.

Just those three soldiers.

I looked to Aquilan, who waited for me to cross the threshold.

So, this was the most poorly concealed trap I’d ever seen.

I wore comfortable clothes and my new sword, little else. So, fighting my way past these guys was a very bad idea.

But what else was I going to do?

Aquilan and I drew our swords simultaneously. Adrenaline kicked in, and they glowed red.

I parried his first lazy thrust — thank god for Caleb’s training — and backpedaled as fast as I could. A servant had set a mop against the wall and I scooped it.

My enemies glowed pink. Not much time.

I dodged around them, just barely staying out of reach of his searching sword tip. My hand hooked the door. I closed it and shoved the mop handle through the door handle and the wall. It should buy me a couple seconds.

The glow vanished and time unwound at its normal pace.

I cursed and parried his next strikes as best as I could, but it would only take one mistake to be skewered through. He nicked my collarbone, and I felt my neck become wet.

The door behind me rattled, as I circled the dangerous knight.

The other elf drew his sword. I flailed my hand toward him and cast a spell, “you want to be my friend!”

Magically charmed, the other elf put his hand on Aquilan’s shoulder and said, “maybe we should think about this?”

Aquilan pushed him back, then slashed at me.

I parried his blow easily. But I didn’t have much time. I had to do something, fast.

Should I run? And where?

The window was a single, thin pane of glass. I had my back to it.

I backpedaled, and threw myself through the glass with everything I had.

“No!” the elf screamed in frustration. His subordinate gave a pained expression.

I waved my hand and shouted, “like a feather!”

I gently floated upwards, and away from the tower. I had ten minutes of this. But I also had nothing to hold onto. Once the spell ended I would float gently down, but that would put me in the moat.

Caleb said he’d put crocodiles in it, but I didn’t know if he was being serious.

Aquilan drew his bow. His subordinate begane tying a cord to an arrow.

They were gonna spear fish me out of the air. I didn’t like that.

I pulled my slate from my pocket and typed a quick text.

Breznik: West Wing Help.

I shoved my slate in my pocket. The arrow punched right into my ribs up to the fletching. I flailed with Redeemer and severed the cord.

The subordinate began tying another arrow.

“Sorry!” he said, stopping to wave at me, “just doing my job! You seem really great!”

“Thanks! Can you stop tying arrows?!”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Sure thing!” he said.

Aquilan struck him on the back of the head, and he returned to his work.

The elven knight aimed, and fired the next one. I was ready this time. Redeemer cut the arrow in half.

“Zach!” came a yell.

I looked up.

Like some kind of black bird of prey against the moon, Bernadette fell from the tower above, trailing a rope from her hand. It went taunt, and she swung like a pendulum right for me.

She collided with me and her arms wrapped tight around my waist. We swung through an open window. She rolled. I slid and smashed into the wall opposite the window.

After a moment to regain my breath, I gave myself a quick heal light wounds, and jumped to my feet.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yes!”

“What about the arrow?”

“Fuck!”

I really didn’t want to pull it out. My breathing was fast, I couldn’t seem to get a handle on it.

“Okay,” she said, approaching me slowly, “you have healing magic. I’m just gonna pull it out, and you’re going to heal yourself. Turn around.”

“You see it?” I asked.

“Yeah it’s sticking out the back,” she said from behind me.

“Good,” I said, “No big deal. Just like the crossbow bolt. Except. Way deeper.”

“Okay, so I’m going to count to three—”

“Don’t do the thing where you count to three but really go on one.”

“I’m not going to—”

“It’s just, I want to be able to keep standing, and I need time to brace—”

“I’ll do it on—”

“Because sometimes you say you’re gonna do one thing—”

She pulled hard. I felt the arrow tear through me. Pain lanced through my whole body, and my knees buckled.

“You okay?” she asked, bloody arrow in hand.

I hit myself with a second level heal light wounds, then stood. I didn’t black out. I didn’t piss myself. All things considered, I was doing fine.

“That hurt.”

“Yeah, you’re fine.”

“Huh, we’ve both pulled arrows out of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“Getting shot sucks.”

“Let’s move before they find us,” she said.

We walked briskly through the halls. My wounds itched, a cut on my head and arms from the leap through the window, and the arrow puncture. I wished I had used Mia’s health potion instead of my own magic, but what could you do?

I filled Bernie in on what I’d learned. She led me through a secret passage that wound through the undercroft, and the dark places under the castle. We exited in front of the King’s Theater in the East Wing. She took me around it, and backstage.

Rows of mirrors made up the makeup bays where performers got ready. Pieces of set on wheels were in place, ready to be moved onto stage. I saw part of the Blue Falcon, Hank Solo’s airship. And… there was the couch. Even in another world there was the couch.

Two men rolled around on it together locked in an amorous embrace.

“Boys!” Bernie yelled in a stage whisper.

They didn’t seem to notice us yet.

“BOYS!” she said louder.

They disentangled.

“Woah,” one said, his shirt unlaced and open to a bare chest, and a single fake elf ear dangling from an ear, “you two okay?”

“He’s fine,” she said, “but we need to hide out from some elves that want to kill us.”

“Got it,” the other said, some kind of eye makeup running down his face. “So we should…”

“Costume closet,” Bernie said.

“Great idea!” the one with the bare chest said.

They left.

“Who were they?” I asked.

“Actors.”

“I mean, yeah, but—”

“The one that had been crying is Arturo, understudy for Luke,” she explained. “The other is Bentoit, who plays Hank.”

“Wow. Why was he—”

“Guy who plays Luke recovered, so the understudy isn’t actually taking his place like he thought. Then, his girlfriend just—” Bernie stopped in mid sentence. “You were just being polite?”

“Yeah, I don’t actually care.”

We sat on the couch.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just have so much rattling around in my head. I know what everyone is doing and to whom. I have to, if I’m going to figure this out.”

I took off my shirt, used it to wipe the excess blood, then put on a shirt that was obviously part of someone’s costume.

“How does what I learned fit in?” I asked, before sitting down next to her.

“I don’t know yet. I need time to think.”

“What about rest? Have you slept at all?”

“Since when?”

“Last night?”

“I got about an hour.”

I let out a sigh and leaned back, happy to have a moment where I wasn’t running or being shot at. Bernie put her head on my shoulder. We had time to rest, just for a moment.

Why had Aquilan tried to interrogate me? What was he doing here?

I made an intuitive leap. He must have figured out that we were responsible for the massacre at the elven camp. Makes some amount of sense. Just by the way that fight had gone down — the fire, killing Taldinar first — none of that really was goblin MO. That left the Throne, Caleb, or the Black Lions. Black Lions were pushovers. And the throne would have been risking a full war.

Unless the Throne had operatives like us.

At any rate, could I be sure he was involved in the poisoning plot at all? I couldn’t.

Hopefully Bernadette could figure all this out, because I was not good at this kind of thing.

“This is nice,” she said.

“Yeah.”

The moment stretched on. Then she spoke again.

“I’ve leveled up to nine.”

“I heard.”

“Want to see?”

“Sure.”

She handed me her slate.

Shade the level 6 Assassin Rogue and level 3 Fey Warlock.

Hit Points 48, Armor Class 18 (Steelsilk Robes, Bracers of Deflecting)

STR 7 (-2) DEX 18 (+4) CON 12 (+1)

INT 13 (+1) WIS 10 (+0) CHA 18 (+4)

Items: Fascinator +2, Thirsting Thorn +2, Boots of Swiftness, Bracers of Deflecting, Dagger of Tracking +1, steelsilk robes, 8 throwing daggers, 1 combat knife, 1 ration, 1 flint and tinder box, charcoal, 12 sheets loose paper.

Abilities from Rogue: Backstab (+150% additional damage against targets from behind or against targets that are otherwise distracted), Improved Assassinate (350% backstab damage against targets that do not identify you as a threat), Beguiling Allure (double proficiency bonus to charisma checks against the opposite sex)

Abilities from Warlock: Fey Sight (see farther and through dim light or darkness), Spiderwalk (walk on vertical surfaces and even upside down), Charm (one use of the charm spell per day), Empowered Leap (triple jump distance)

Skills: Acrobatics, Deception, Investigate, Seduction, Sleight of Hand, Stealth

Empowered leap was new.

Her mobility in a fight was starting to get pretty crazy. In a place like the castle, she was probably deceptively hard to fight. You’d expect narrow hallways to restrict her mobility, but if she could just run up walls, and leap from surface to surface, well, those close spaces didn’t help as much as you’d think.

“Nice,” I said, handing her slate back.

“Are things weird between us?” she asked, scooting back on the couch to look at me.

“I don’t think so?”

“I’m not so sure,” she continued. “I’m working so hard on this really important thing. I’m trying to make sure we’re safe, that Caleb’s kids are safe. But there is this thing between us that is off, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Really?”

“I want us to be cool, to be friends like we were in Bridletree, but things are different. I’m worried that it’s because I kissed you.”

“Hey,” I said, “I kissed you. We kissed. And I’d been wanting to kiss you for a while.”

“Really?”

“Is this about the date?”

“No. Things were off before that.”

“They were? Whatever. Look, I like you. I like where this is going,” I assured her. “I don’t think this is weird.”

“I haven’t done this before. Or at least, not like this. I’m just 20. I haven’t done hardly anything. I’ve had one boyfriend and a couple party hookups. I don’t know how this is supposed to work! Can you be friends with a guy you’ve kissed?”

“Wait, you’re 20?”

“Yeah, my birthday was last week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t like birthdays.”

I stood.

“What, next you’re gonna tell me you aren’t 4’ 10”?”

“I’m not 4’ 10” — you thought I was — oh, that was a joke Sofia said at the table. I’m 5 foot.”

“Really? Is that very different from 4’ 10”?”

“It is when you’re 5 foot.”

“Wait, did you crawl through my window on your birthday?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of my birthday.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I get to not like things, sometimes.”

I took a deep breath. This felt like a huge revelation, but also nothing at all. She was so strange, so prickly. Every time I felt like I was getting close to her, something happened that made me feel like I didn’t know her as well as I did. I exhaled.

If I was honest with myself, I had been avoiding her. I was afraid I’d done something wrong by kissing her at the tavern before the skeleton fight. And the less she sought me out, the more I thought I should leave her alone.

But she hadn’t told me to leave her alone. She’d crawled through my damn window to kiss me.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“Look, I think things are weird because, like, we’re weird people. And this isn’t a normal situation. We’re hunting an assassin in a castle. And we’re about to go fight a bunch of skeletons and a witch. Shit’s weird. But that’s okay.”

“Okay,” she said, eyes distant as she seemed to process what I’d said. I just watched her for a moment.

Her hair was getting longer; she’d parted it to the side instead of spiking it. The thin steelsilk accentuated her curves more than the leather had, and the soft skin of her exposed neck shone in the yellow lamplight. She bit her lip nervously, causing them to glisten. She was always beautiful, but now she was, like, hot. Had she changed, or had I changed?

Her brown eyes darted to me.

“I’m overthinking this,” she said.

“Maybe!" I said, snapping back to reality. "Things are intense right now. Part of why I wanted to take you on a date. It’s normal. We could use some normal.”

I sounded so reasonable. I was usually so bad at talking like this, but man was I nailing it!

“Yeah, normal sounds nice,” she said, exhaling. “Okay, let’s get Rachel, and loop her in.”