They emerged to find Noninja crouching near the desk. “Just as I suspected,” he crowed. “There’s a secret-door button here, too!”

“As you suspected?” Miles chided. “Then why didn’t you find it the first time?”

Noninja snarled as he stood up. “Never you mind.” He took a closer look at Miles. “Are you sure you’re OK? I don’t remember you being this pale.”

“I’m fine,” he declared.

“No you’re not,” Lorarona observed, her voice filling with worry. “You’re shaking.”

Clancy suddenly bent over and took a close look at Miles’ stomach. “How long have you had this needle sticking out of you?”

“What needle?” Miles challenged.

“Oh, ye Gods!” Lorarona cried. “Miles! You’ve been hurt!”

Miles looked down and snorted. “Whatever. I’ll just shake it off.”

Clancy already had one of Lord Medochre’s handkerchiefs. “Hold still. I’m going to remove it.”

“You?!” Miles laughed. “Since when do you have healing chops?”

“Since I was born frail,” he growled. “I’ve had to learn to patch myself up from a very early age. Now hold still.” He grabbed the needle with the handkerchief and pulled it out; it gave way easily. He wrapped it in the handkerchief. “We’ll have to get this looked at later,” he declared. “See what was on it.”

“You guys worry too much,” Miles charged. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”

Lorarona’s fingers began to glow with a golden light. At the peak of its brightness, she touched Miles’ belly; the light entered him and disappeared with a small shower of sparkles. “Feel any better?”

“No,” Miles declared. “I told you, I’m not hurt.”

“Or what you have is beyond ‘cure light wounds’,” she fretted. “You really need to get that looked at.”

“I can’t afford that!” Miles shot back. “What do you think this is, some glittering future where health care is available to all, and trauma centers are open all hours of the day and night? Besides, I’m a barbarian! I’ll just do what we always do…power through it.”

“Really?” Noninja smirked. “So you don’t have a tribal shaman throw chicken bones at you, and shake rattles to scare away the demons that cause illness?”

Miles flashed a withering glare. “Look who’s talking! Don’t ninjas deal with their injuries by shredding their own stomachs in some sort of stupid ceremony?” He put on a stern expression and adopted a mockery of a dignified voice. “I have dishonored my ancestors! The only solution is to take the easy way out! Let me get right on that!”

“Oh, you want to go there?” Noninja growled, getting in Miles’ face. “You’re just a loose cannon. You know nothing of finesse and strategy! How about that so-called ‘barbarian rage’, huh? Just a fancy name for ‘spazzing out’.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Cut it out, you two!” Lorarona interjected.

“Call it what you want, but at least it’s intimidating,” Miles snapped. “What about all those stupid sounds you make? Are those supposed to be scary?” He did a mocking, clumsy impression of a ninja. “Ooooh-waaah! Eeeee-yaaaah!” He moved quickly into a bow. “Kasikatuna, senpai.” A disrespectful chortle burst out of him. “Are those even real words?”

“How dare you mock my ways!” Noninja shouted.

Miles let out a giddy laugh. “Oooh, here we go! Have I disgraced you? Are you going to swear a blood oath for the loss of face?” Tears began streaming down his cheeks. “How can you take any of that seriously?”

“How do we stop this?” Lorarona asked Clancy.

“Just let it happen,” Clancy advised. “I think they need to get this out of their system.”

Noninja drew his short blade and brought it to a horizontal position, aligned with Miles’ neck. “I can kill you three times before you hit the ground! Want to see it?”

“What, only three?” Miles sneered. “Isn’t it supposed to be nine? Or are you not that good yet!”

“Just keep it up!” Noninja blubbered. “See where it gets you! My wakizashi will make sushi out of you!”

Miles perused the knife. “No short sword for you, I see. Not fancy enough! Did it come with a name?”

“Are you deaf?!” Noninja thundered. “I just said it was a wakizashi!”

“No, I mean an individual name,” Miles clarified, “for that extra level of pretentiousness. Maybe a history? Have any ballads been sung about it? Maybe an interpretive dance?” Miles began waving his arms over his head, his whole body merging into the rhythm.

“Shut up already, you two!” Lorarona interrupted. “I think someone’s coming!”

They heard footsteps approaching from outside the bedroom door. Quickly, they pulled what weapons they had and prepared to deal with the interloper. Miles tried to raise his stolen axe above his head, but couldn’t; he had to settle for holding it in front of him.

The door burst open; they prepared to strike. Rikki stuck his head in and looked around, finally spotting the team. They breathed a sigh of relief and lowered their weapons.

“You guys!” he shrieked. “They’re coming back! We have to get out of here!”

“Then let’s use the fire escape,” Clancy suggested, striding toward it.

A beaming smile washed over Rikki’s face. “Brilliant!” he trilled, clapping his hands and bouncing lightly. “I knew you guys were professionals!”

The spiral staircase descended into the darkness; no one was around. Noninja flashed Miles a surly glare. “This isn’t over.”

“What’s not over?” Miles bellowed. “I already forgot about it. You’re way too uptight.”

Slowly, they made their way to a side gate and walked down the median between the two estates, finally arriving on the street. Much of the crowd had dispersed, and what remained paid no attention to them.

“So?” Rikki bubbled. “What did you guys find?”

They gave him a summary of their evening; as they did, his giggling and bouncing increased in intensity. They beheld him uneasily as they cut the story short.

“You guys were great tonight!” he exulted. “I now have the proof I need! Meet me tomorrow morning at the café! I’ll take you to someone that can help us figure this out!” Rikki began to walk away, then turned around and gazed at them. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to buy me food this time.” He walked off, hailed a carriage, and disappeared.

“Hey!” Noninja grumbled. “Don’t offer us a ride or anything!”

“So,” Clancy remarked, “think we have enough for cab fare?”

Lorarona sighed heavily, then opened up the purse of holding.