Mafu and Beklun swung Melete’s uncle onto one of the horses and used some rope to secure him. Sammy watched the process in fascination. She had never seen anyone secured to a horse before and even after watching she was not sure she could do it herself. Once that was done, everyone mounted and they rode to the farmstead. As they approached, several men and women came out to meet them, all of them armed. An older man with a full head of grey hair led them, a rifle cradled in his arm as if he had been born with it.

Melete waved to them, calling out. “Colonel Stacey, don’t get excited and keep your gun down.”

The man took in the man bound to the horse and the strange crew in attendance with a sweep of his gaze. “Report.”

Melete nodded. “Just a moment, sir. Sammy?”

Sammy pulled up alongside the girl, a pistol in each hand. Scanning the group with eyes educated by the dragon’s scrying of Melete’s uncle, she shot three men and two women with the same nerve blast that had almost taken her down. The five crumpled before anyone realized they were in danger. “That do it Melete?”

“I think so.” She continued to look the colonel straight in the eyes. “Colonel, some things have come to light concerning my uncle’s part in my parents’ death.”

“Melete, we don’t know if he’s part of it or not,” Sammy interrupted. “Really, do you have no common sense at all?”

“But the dragon,” Melete began to object.

“Melete,” Sammy snapped, but then she sighed. “You give too much information, girl. Don’t assume your uncle knew all the players here.” Sammy gave the military man a hard look. “Do you really think a military officer of his rank would have missed this kind of foulness?”

“Lady,” Mafu said, breaking in. “You did not grow up in these lands, so you don’t understand the weight of the curse here. I spent some time outside this my birth land, and it would not be that hard to conceal such a plot even without the darkness that shrouded us.”

“Right, right,” the high strung girl acquiesced, “but we shouldn’t assume he’s not part of it just because some lowlife doesn’t identify him as part of the plot. If I was using some idiot like that man,” she pointed at Melete’s uncle, “I so would have plants he wasn’t aware of keeping tabs. Melete trusts that person,” she pointed at the colonel, “so I would target him as an informant if possible.”

“What are you talking about?” one of the men demanded.

“Ah fiddle fuddle,” Sammy said. “Anyway, that stupid prince is probably floating around these parts. If we can get a hold of him, he should be useful.” Sammy grimaced. “What a horrible predicament.” She cast a narrow look at Melete. “You so owe me for this. Do you know how to contact him?”

Melete blinked. “Who?”

Sammy quirked a smile at her. “Dista of course. You know, Prince Jerome. You knew he was around here.”

Melete’s eyes grew wide and she asked in a somewhat confused voice. “He is?”

Sammy stared at Melete for a long moment, then said, “Wait, you just told your uncle.”

“I was lying,” Melete confessed with a little embarrassment. “I spoke without thinking and then got scared because he was threatening to kill us. I just made stuff up on the fly. Prince Jerome isn’t really in the country.”

Sammy stared at her for a moment longer and then snorted, and then burst into laughter. She raised her pistol and shot two more of the bystanders that she decided she did not like. Addressing the farmhands, she said, “Those were probably the hidden ones, but I still don’t trust any of you, so just set your guns on the ground please.”

Battlescar moved forward and growled, his mouth opening a little. The group of farmhands hesitated, but the colonel nodded. “Set your weapons on the ground, just move slowly. That thing could cover us with acid before we fired a single shot now.”

“Battlescar, don’t kill innocents please.” The drey-drake growled what amounted to a query as to what an innocent was. Sammy ignored the question, since she didn’t really know herself. “Anyway, as long as they don’t try to shoot us or run away, leave ‘em alone.

Sammy then turned back to Melete and asked, “Melete, do you have a communication system here?”

Melete nodded, her eyes on the two Sammy just shot. “Yes, my lady.”

“You call me that one more time and I’m going to leave.” Sammy glared at Melete, who grinned as she angled her eyes at the troublesome noble. Sammy grumbled at her, “Grr. You are full of yourself, you know that?”

Melete looked shocked. Placing a hand to her sternum, she said with wide eyes, “How could I possibly listen to you saying that?”

Sammy sighed again. “Okay then, go call one of King Ista’s military dudes. They should know how to contact Prince Dista.” Sammy grinned at Melete, “Because he is probably still around since we were both over at the Count’s castle three days ago, or who do you think I was with?”

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Melete stared at Sammy for a long moment. “Really?” Her voice squeaked.

Sammy laughed again, still very aware of the farmhands. “That’s why you totally took me in with your lie. Linda and Morstan may still be around too. Maybe not though, since it’s been three days.”

“Who are they?” Melete asked, frowning in a worried sort of way.

“Dista’s parents.”

Melete stared at her blankly for a moment, but then several dots connected. “Prince Jerome’s? That means . . .”

“The King and Queen,” Colonel Stacey said firmly.

“In any case, get going,” Sammy said, heading off Melete’s growing panic. “And Melete, be careful. They’ve probably set it up so you can’t make that kind of call.”

“Just a moment,” Colonel Stacey said. “I have a device for contacting the royal troops.” He speared Sammy with his eyes. “May I use it?”

“No way,” Sammy said without any hesitation. “If it contacts someone else, it’ll be too late once you activate it. Still, thanks for letting us know you have such an interesting thing. Please put your hands on your head.”

The old man glanced at Melete. “Is she for real?”

“Colonel Stacey, you are aware the curse has been broken, right?” Melete asked. The group of farmers glanced at each other nervously. “Three nights ago, when everything became brighter.” The girl pointed at Sammy. “I would like to introduce our new, urp.” Melete stopped talking, swallowing words with air.

Sammy held the pistol pointed at her with an unwavering hand. “If you finish that, I will so shoot you.”

Melete slowly raised a hand to her chest just below her throat. “I have stopped. Please lower your gun.”

Sammy harrumphed and brought the weapon to her shoulder, barrel next to her cheek. “If you ever call me a stupid noble, I swear I’ll beat the tar out of you.”

Melete nodded, her heart still racing. It was an incredible feeling looking down a gun barrel at that range, even if it was ‘just’ a nerve spiker. “I will keep that in mind, my la.” She broke off at Sammy’s glare. “Um, my, my, um Sammy.”

Sammy let out a big sigh and looked up at the sky. “Ugh, what a mess. Anyway Melete, please go call whoever. I don’t care anymore.” She scanned the farmhands as Melete spurred her horse forward, Mafu following her. “Strip those guys naked and tie their hands and feet.” She glanced over at the survivor sitting on his horse. “You can dismount, sir. Move slow.”

The man complied without trying anything.

Sammy quirked an eyebrow and then shrugged. “Get the uncle guy down too. Be careful, he’s awake now and will probably try something.” Sammy considered the man draped over the horse. “Maybe I should just shoot him. I doubt he knows anything worth the effort at this point. Well, I suppose that stupid prince can probably pull something out of him.”

The Colonel shifted and cleared his throat. “Young woman, if I understand things properly, some mischief was involved with Melete’s parents’ death.”

Sammy straightened her back and the horse shift under her. “Well, yes. Her uncle pretty much admitted that he murdered them and was actively poisoning her too. Apparently, he’s working for someone else though. Enough talk. Put the villains over there and the rest of you move over there.” First she pointed to an open spot in the courtyard they all stood in, then she pointed to another open spot about forty feet away. As the farmhands began to comply, Sammy dismounted and moved to stand by a large tree. Several minutes passed, the uncle never giving any sign he had actually awakened.

Sammy shrugged to herself, because she could tell by his breathing and the way his body lay that he was conscious. Melete came running out of the house holding a phone. She ran straight up to Sammy and held out the small handheld device to the girl.

Breathless, she said, “Prince Jerome said he wanted to talk to you.”

Sammy glared at the phone and then glanced around at her audience. She said, “Oi,” as she accepted the phone. “What?” She snapped.

“What right back at you, girl,” Dista answered. “Where did we first meet?”

“In an alley,” Sammy answered, relaxing. She liked games like this. “Where is my hiding place?”

There was a moment of silence and then a big sigh on the phone. “If I answered that, you would blacken my other eye, I’m sure.”

“Exactly right, you stupid royal noble jerk. What did you want to talk to me about?”

Everyone in hearing of Sammy stared at her in shock, even the colonel and Melete.

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright,” the prince answered with exasperation, as if the question was amazing in a not-so-positive kind of way. “We are already headed in that direction.”

Sammy frowned. What did he mean, answering like she was a stupid noble. “When are you going to get here?”

Dista voice came through a bit muffled as he asked someone for an ETA before answering Sammy. “About an hour.”

Sammy nodded to herself and said, “Fine, fine. I’m alright. Did Melete tell you anything about what’s going on?”

When the prince answered, Sammy was not quite sure what the heck his tone implied. There were way to many nuances. “Yes. You have interesting investigators.”

“That totally surprised me,” Sammy blurted out. “You didn’t say things like that would happen.”

“It just means your contract is deeper than most. I believe there are around twenty nobles I know of who could summon creatures of the land to their assistance. All royals can, of course, since having that kind of depth seems fairly mandatory for a royal contract.”

Sammy bit her upper lip for a moment and then threw her free hand into the air. “Whatever. Anyway, there’s this colonel Stacey here. Is he one of your creatures?”

“That is so rude, you dimwit,” Dista reprimanded. “Yes, he is trustworthy, though I don’t know why he would be in that part of the country.”

Sammy glanced at the colonel, then with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, she said, “Fine, then I’m hanging up. Goodbye.”

“Sammy, wait,” Dista cried out.

Sammy hung up and tossed the phone to Melete. “He says he’ll be here in about three hours.” Sammy adjusted a setting on her gun and leveled it at the bound conspirators, bathing them in nerve numbing energy twice.

A roar split the air from the west. A few moments later Battlescar appeared in shimmering air over the courtyard. A man dropped to the ground a dozen feet from Sammy, a broken rifle clattering next to him. The drey-drake landed and sidled up to Sammy, letting her know he had taken care of the stinky sneaky bad one.

Sammy snickered as she watched the man sit up. His left arm was a bloody mess. The arch-duchess raised her pistol again and fire twice more. The man slumped back to lay on the ground again.

Twenty minutes passed without anything else happening. Sammy did not let anyone leave the courtyard and most of the farmhands sat here and there waiting. Melete sat on a tree root by Sammy, Mafu leaning against the trunk.

“Melete, I’m going to the bathroom.” Sammy declared. “If I’m not back in forty minutes, come get me. Otherwise, don’t let anyone out of this courtyard.” The girl headed around one of the barns, completely ignoring Melete’s offer to use the house bathroom. The young vishap Shadow following her. The drey-drake had long since faded from sight.