The Rampart City that Fiona returned to was very different from the one she had left.

To start with, the streets were nearly empty. Even normally packed markets and taverns were nearly void of people. More buildings than ever displayed damage from demon attacks. How many times had they raided the city since the war began? She supposed she should have predicted these changes.

What she couldn’t have predicted was the abundance of zombies roaming the streets.

They weren’t attacking anyone, just shambling about, their slack-jawed heads turning this way and that, and spreading the stench of rot throughout the streets. Any time they encountered a group of three or more people, they would drag themselves into their midst, forcing their way into the middle until the group disbanded. It seemed that they were the new local law enforcement, a fact she quickly learned when she entered the city and found herself surrounded by slow-moving zombies reaching for her weapon and groaning insistently. Once she worked out that weapons were no longer permitted on the streets, she simply shrunk hers to a tiny dirk and absorbed it into her body. She could feel it there even now, like an extension of her, as easily altered as her own form yet not part of her. A piece that could be separated and rejoined.

At first she tried to keep a positive attitude. Perhaps with more and more of the city guard being needed in the war, the crown had decided to employ zombies to replace them. She made her way to the castle, hoping to find Andra there. Like the rest of the city, the castle was covered in scorch marks and patrolled by zombies. She made her way to the main gates, but a cluster of zombies blocked her path to the entrance. They were unwilling to let her in and unable to listen to her attempts to persuade them. She wandered around the walls, finding zombies blocking every other way in from servant’s entrances to storm drains. As she wandered, she noticed a growing group of zombies following her. Were they smart enough to find her behavior suspicious? Did they have a way of communicating with each other? Zombies weren’t supposed to work that way.

She moved away from the castle and the zombies stayed behind, returning to their posts. But she discovered a tightness in her chest that didn’t leave even with the immediate threat ended. She had to accept it now: something in Rampart City had gone terribly wrong. Perhaps some renegade necromancer, discovering that the guard was stretched thin, had taken over the city. If that was the case, she decided, she had to check with the Guild immediately to find out how they were planning to retake the city and whether she could help. A small part of her worried that this was the threads of fate slowly tugging her onto the prophecy’s path. Things like that happened in stories, after all.

Marian wasn’t at her usual spot at the Guild’s front desk. Of course she wasn’t, Fiona realized; whoever had taken over wouldn’t have allowed the Guild to continue to operate in the open. If there were any adventurers around who hadn’t been sent to the southern continent, they would be plotting in secret. Fiona felt her heart sink as she realized she had no way to contact them. She would have as much luck trying to contact the Thieves’ Guild. She sighed sadly to herself as she turned to leave when she heard the sound of laughter from the common room.

She followed the sounds to discover Andra, Bessen, and Atworth sitting at a table in the center of the room, surrounded by empty bottles. Melissa lay curled at Atworth’s feet.

“Boss!” Fiona called out much more loudly than she had meant.

“You see what I mean?” Andra slurred, gesturing to Fiona as she addressed the others. “My whole team was completely useless. All Fiona had to do was stay put in Parapet City and what does she do? Show up here.”

“At least she does show up,” Atworth replied. They were leaning heavily on an elbow. “Nightingale was too busy stalking Kaylen to show up for half of our jobs. And Bessen was always like ‘do you really need me for this one?’”

Bessen pouted, a strange look for such a powerful woman. “That’s just because you never wanted me to kill anything. I never had anything to do.”

“Sometimes there was heavy stuff to lift,” Atworth protested.

Fiona, realizing that her presence had barely registered to the three drunks, approached the table. “Sorry I came back, boss, but I thought you might know how I could help Riven. But now there are zombies everywhere and I’m really confused.”

Andra gave her an incredulous look. “Why would you want to help Raven? She’s the cause of all this.”

Fiona glanced between Andra and the others. “What do you mean? Riven came back?”

“Oh, she came back,” Atworth replied, sitting up to examine Fiona. “I found her in the Fae Realms, rescued her from that fairy and you know what she does? Charms me and uses me to take over the castle so she can hand Rampart over to some demon.”

So Riven was safe. She had needed to be saved, though, which left Fiona feeling a little guilty that she hadn’t acted sooner. However, the most important thing was that she was safe.

“Whatever’s going on, I’m sure Riven wouldn’t just hand an entire country over to a demon,” Fiona said.

The three burst out in laughter.

“That’s exactly what she would do,” Andra replied between drunken guffaws. “She’s called Raven the Traitor for a reason, you know.”

“I heard she once got a party trapped in a vampire’s dungeon for two weeks while she ran around in a maid’s outfit cleaning the undead lady’s castle,” Bessen added.

Atworth barked out a laugh loud enough that Melissa’s ear twitched. “I heard she teamed up with an arachne to burn down a warehouse.”

Andra excitedly pointed to herself. “Oh! Oh! I was there for that one. That was our team.”

“Then we have to stop her,” Fiona interrupted before someone else could toss out another rumor. “We have to go there and talk her out of this.”

Andra shook her head. “She won’t listen. She doesn’t care about anything but her own gratification. Besides, it’s not like we can get in the castle. We don’t have any weapons, the rebels have all left town, the king and my fiancee have vanished, Raven has a mind-controlled necromancer working for her, and all of the guard’s mages are locked up.”

That was a lot of problems.

“Well, I still have my weapon at least,” Fiona said.

Andra rolled her eyes. “That’s nice, but that’s not going to get us in the castle. Or help us against the necromancer.”

Fiona felt herself tearing up. This wasn’t right. Andra wasn’t supposed to give up like this.

“But...but you’re the boss,” she said, sounding whinier than she meant to. “You always come up with something. You always find a way to get us through whatever we’re up against.”

Andra’s face softened. She looked at Fiona as if she had finally realized that it had been a year since she’d seen her. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do. Why do you think I call you boss?” Fiona replied. “When that first job fell apart, you kept everyone safe. And you even tried to get us as much out of it as you could by taking the demon’s leg and everything. And you didn’t kick me out even though I’d messed up.”

“I mean, you didn’t mess up as badly as Raven and Kaylen,” Andra muttered.

“I knew then that you were different from anyone else I’d ever worked with. You really saw us as a team. As people who were in it together. You wanted us all to succeed.”

“This is the woman who once got me blown up just to see what was in a treasure chest,” Bessen interjected.

“You know how Riven is. She makes bad decisions and we have to stop her. You told me to keep an eye on her once, and I’m really sorry that I did a bad job of it, but we need to find a way to help her now.”

The drunken slur seemed to vanish from Andra’s voice. “You’re wrong, Fiona. I’m selfish. Everyone knows it. I only started that team to advance my own career. The plan was to abandon you as soon as I could. I was fooling you the whole time.”

“I’m not an idiot, Andra,” Fiona said sharply, causing Andra’s eyes to widen. “I know you think you’re better than everyone else. Everyone knows that. But you demonstrate it by actually being better. You protect people who need to be protected and you tear down people who need to be torn down. If you’d been working with Atworth or Bessen or anyone who’s actually good at what they do, you would have abandoned them in an instant. You could have abandoned us when you got a job at the castle, but instead you invited us to work with you. Because you know I freeze up if I don’t have you to tell me what to do. And Kaylen always gets knocked out unless someone keeps an eye on her. And if Riven doesn’t have anyone to keep her grounded, she’ll get people hurt.”

Andra’s eyes slowly drifted from Fiona’s face to one of the tables off to the side. “I mean, it’s not just that. You’re also a good fighter.”

Fiona felt the fire leave her voice. “Wh-what? No I’m not. I mean, I’m okay, but I’m not as good as Bessen.”

“You are,” Andra said seriously. “If you hesitate, it’s just because you want to make sure you hit the right thing. And Kaylen’s a good priestess, too. Unlike most priests, she’s more interested in healing people than controlling them. And Raven’s a good mage. She’s actually really smart when she’s not distracted by pretty girls. I didn’t keep you as advisors because I know you’re hopeless without me. I actually wanted your advice.”

“So you’ll help Riven?” Fiona asked hopefully.

Andra gave her a haughty look. “I suppose someone needs to stop her from betraying humanity. And since everyone in this city is worthless, I guess I have to be the one to do it. Atworth, Bessen, I’ll need your help.”

“No thanks,” said Bessen. “I’d rather not be torn apart by zombies.”

“Yeah, we still don’t have a way into the castle,” Atworth added.

“Don’t worry, they’ll help us,” Andra told Fiona.

Fiona clapped her hands with excitement. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to show Riven that I can shapeshift again.”

“You can shapeshift again?” Andra asked.

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

That night, Fiona slipped into the castle through a storm drain. It was easy, it turned out. The zombies had been told to keep out people, not animals. By returning to her slime state and stretching her body long, she was able to slither in like a snake. Moving in this form proved to be easier than she expected. It happened naturally, as if she had been doing it for longer than she could remember. By creating an eye, she was able to see where she was going, and by adjusting her chemistry a bit, she discovered that she could stick to walls and even ceilings as she searched around the tunnel for a way into the castle proper.

She eventually found a small hole leading up into the kitchens and pulled her long body through. It was difficult not to pause to marvel at the sensation of it twisting behind her. For a moment she wondered why she didn’t find the way the room swayed in her vision nauseating before realizing that she didn’t currently have a stomach.

Squeezing under the kitchen door, she found herself in a hallway with a zombie. This zombie ignored her like the ones at the storm drain had. She wondered if she should ignore the plan and make her way straight to Riven. However, she couldn’t exactly converse with the mage in this form, and if she changed back she would be naked, which she imagined would make it difficult for Riven to take her seriously.

Instead she wandered through the tight servants’ halls, getting lost a few times, before finding the same servants’ entrance Andra had used to slip into the castle during the demon attack. Unfortunately, it was now kept locked from the inside with a heavy padlock instead of the bolt or barricade Andra had predicted. Fiona had no idea where the key was.

For a moment, she fretted over what to do. Ultimately, she decided to change back. She now had enough practice that she could do so smoothly, quickly returning to her cat-eared human form. The sensations that suddenly appeared shocked her, however. In her slime form, she had only given herself sight and a basic sense of touch. Now there was the cold of the night air, the ambient sounds of crickets and the trudging of zombies, the overwhelming scent of rotten flesh. For a moment it stunned her, but she quickly recollected herself and turned her attention to the lock.

An idea struck her. Extending her right hand outward, she drew that presence that was an extension of her but not part of her into her fingers, shaping it into the form of a giant pair of shears. And there it was, her weapon was once again in her hands. She felt herself grin with excitement. How many amazing, impossible things was she capable of?

With the shears and her muscles she was able to make quick work of the lock without making too much noise. Next she slowly pushed the door open. The others were supposed to be waiting here, having already dispatched any zombies guarding the door. Instead, Fiona was greeted with a pair of zombies.

Alerted by the noise of the door, they began a raspy moaning as they lurched inside. Fiona shifted her weapon into a hand axe and swung at the first zombie’s neck, severing the head. The zombie paused for a moment, then continued to grope for her. For a moment, she was stunned by the unsettling sight before remembering that killing zombies required severing enough connections that the enchantment keeping them moving would no longer work. She began hacking away at the zombie, creating gashes on its shoulders, arms, and chest, even severing one arm at the elbow. Nothing seemed to bother it until suddenly, after a final chop, it collapsed like a marionette.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Fiona silently chastised herself. That had taken too long and there was still another zombie to deal with. To her surprise, however, as soon as she turned her attention to the second zombie it, too, collapsed. Standing behind it, once again dressed in expensive, frilly black clothes, was Andra, dagger in hand.

“Boss!” she exclaimed.

“You’re probably going to want a bath when we’re done here,” Andra replied.

Fiona looked down and realized her naked body was covered in the zombie’s blood. She fought back a wave of nausea as she looked up to see Bessen, Atworth, and Melissa following Andra. Atworth was wearing a bulky cloak. Bessen offered her a bundle of clothes.

“Sorry we took so long,” the large woman said, “someone couldn’t remember where the door was.”

Andra pursed her lips. “I found it eventually. And it worked out fine, anyway.”

“I hope they didn’t have enough time to warn the others,” Fiona said as she pulled on her pants. “I’m not sure how they communicate.”

Andra rolled her eyes. “Zombies don’t communicate. They’re just mindless…” She groped for a word. “...zombies.”

“No, Fiona’s right,” said Atworth. “Haven’t you been watching the zombies since they took over? They’re surprisingly intelligent. It’s almost enough to make me worry about the ethical implications of—”

They were interrupted by the sounds of approaching moans.

“In that case, we should probably get moving,” said a nervous Andra. “Bessen, take the lead.”

“Do you just want to use me as a human shield?” Bessen asked.

“You’re the toughest,” Andra protested. “And besides, the main halls are wider so Atworth and Melissa will be able to join you.”

Bessen sighed with frustration and took the lead. At Andra’s direction, they made their way to a dead end, doubled back with some uncomfortable shuffling to get Bessen back in the lead, and finally found the way into one of the main halls.

Fiona had been to these halls at night before, but there had always been light potions illuminating the way. Now it was nearly pitch black and the castle’s various decorations were nothing more than unsettling shadows.

There was more moaning and, as one, the entire group looked to the right to see an army of zombies shuffling down the corridor.

“What do we do, boss?” Fiona asked, grateful that their enemies were at least slow. “Run?”

“Where are we even going?” asked Atworth, placing a steadying hand between Melissa’s shoulders. “Where’s Riven?”

“H-hold on,” Andra stammered. “Let me think.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Bessen said, readying her axe.

“Riven probably knows we’re here now, right?” Fiona suggested. “And she loves dramatic stuff.”

“So she’ll be waiting in the throne room,” Andra concluded. “Which is…” She pointed directly at the horde of zombies.

Bessen gave a frustrated groan and stepped forward to close the remaining distance between herself and the nearest zombies. She had just enough room to swing her axe, severing a zombie in half. Unfortunately, the corridor was still small enough that she was limited in the ways she could attack, and she immediately found herself set upon by a zombie she couldn’t easily hit.

Melissa landed on the zombie, biting a chunk out of its shoulder. She continued tearing shreds of it away with her claws and teeth until it stopped moving, but was immediately grasped by a third zombie which quickly found its throat slashed open by Fiona’s weapon, now a short sword.

They continued like this, narrowly saving each other from zombie bites and scratches, Fiona finishing off a zombie when Bessen got her axe caught in a display stand, Melissa pulling another off of Fiona immediately afterwards. After what seemed like ages, they managed to cut their way through to the throne room doors. While the others fought, Atworth thrust them open and ushered everyone through before closing them behind them.

The throne room was dimly lit by a series of lamps that appeared to have been brought in. It seemed that the castle’s current occupants hadn’t been able to figure out how to change the light potions on the chandelier that normally served as the throne room’s light source. The stench of rotten flesh was stronger here than anywhere else, despite the lack of zombies. As Andra had predicted, Riven was there, lounging on the throne, back against one arm rest and legs draped over the other. Nearby stood the necromancer, Darren, an impassive look on his face.

“I really don’t have time for this,” Riven said without looking as the group approached. “Do you have any idea how much work I have to do to get ready for the demons’ arrival?”

As they neared the dais, Fiona could see that Riven’s eyes were bloodshot. She guessed that the dark circles under her eyes weren’t entirely from her makeup.

“We just want to talk,” Fiona said. “Are you, uh, doing okay?”

Riven’s eyes snapped to Fiona, visibly shocked. “Fiona? You’re here? Your scars are gone. And your earrings. And your other ear is fixed.”

Was that disappointment in her tone? Fiona felt her stomach tighten.

“I got my shapeshifting back. I’m sorry, d-did I look better with that stuff?”

“No, of course not,” Riven said frantically. “I mean, I thought they were really cool, but you look really good without them, too. I mean, the important thing is whether you’re happy with how you look.”

“Well, I think I’ll probably get my ear pierced again at some point, but I didn’t really like the scars, so I think it’s an improvement,” Fiona said. Her allies glanced at her with looks that said “Why are you talking about this now?”

“Then it’s an improvement,” Riven said with a grin. “It does make your skin look really…”

She trailed off. But Fiona was too busy staring at the grin to think about Riven’s unfinished sentence.

“Are you missing a tooth?” she asked.

Riven quickly covered her mouth. “Oh, yeah. That’s nothing. Don’t worry about that.”

“Someone didn’t hurt you, did they?” Fiona asked, voice full of concern.

Riven winced. “I don’t want to talk about this. Can we change the subject?”

Andra cleared her throat.

“Oh, right,” Fiona said, remembering the reason they were here. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to stop mind controlling a necromancer into using zombies to hold the city until an army of demons conquers it?”

Riven’s face fell. “Oh. No, I’m afraid I can’t do that. I have goals I’m working towards.”

“Goals like getting an entire country conquered just so you can live out your kink?” Andra asked sarcastically.

“Yes,” Riven hissed. “I will be mind-controlled by a demon. And this time it’s going to be amazing.”

This time?

“What happened last time?” Fiona asked. “With the fairy?”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it,” Riven snapped, her voice echoing in the large throne room.

“She was abused and then abandoned,” Atworth explained in a stage whisper. Unfortunately it was loud enough for Riven to hear.

“That’s not…it wasn’t…” she stammered. Her face turned dark. “You think you know everything, do you, Atworth? Let’s test that out.”

She leapt to her feet and made her way to where Darren stood.

“You remember Darren, here? Tried to kill us once and then became Bessen’s friend when she joined the rebels. By the way, I take it most of them abandoned you?”

She paused, but no one responded.

She began to stroke Darren’s hair. The necromancer didn’t react, instead just silently watching the intruders. “Anyway, it turns out while he was conspiring with the rebels he was making some plans of his own. Want to guess what?”

She paused again, this time for longer. Finally, Andra sighed. “I suppose some sort of betrayal?”

“Exactly,” Riven said cheerfully. “Although I suppose on its own that shouldn’t be terribly surprising. After all, he had complete control over the bulk of your army. That should have been enough to raise some red flags, but I suppose desperation made it easy for them to trust someone like Darren. Or someone like me, really.”

“Yeah, great, so the rebels were idiots,” said Andra. “We all know that. What’s your point?”

“The point is that having control of the zombie army wasn’t enough for Darren. He wanted some additional backup. Specifically a giant zombie wolf.”

She pointed dramatically at the curtains behind the throne. There was a moment of silence as the group stared at the unmoving curtains.

“Oh, right, I don’t have any magical energy,” Riven said. “Darren, do you mind?”

Darren repeated Riven’s gesture and the curtains were swept away revealing an enormous half-rotten dog towering over the throne room’s other occupants.

The wolf leaped over the throne, cutting the group off from Riven.

Bessen heaved a heavy sigh. “I do not want to have to deal with this.”

The wolf leaned its head down, jaws stretching open to snap up Bessen, but Bessen forced it aside by catching its jaw with a swing of her axe, lodging it in the bone. Atworth threw open their cloak revealing that it was full of crows, which immediately swarmed the wolf’s back and sides, pecking and pulling off pieces out from between its clumps of matted fur.

The wolf, being a zombie, lacked the self-preservation instincts to react to the pecking crows and embedded axe and continued to attack the largest target, again biting at Bessen. But Fiona was there in a flash, skewering its head with her weapon, suddenly a pike. It fought against her, continuing to reach for Bessen, but she held strong, slowing it enough for Bessen to back out of the way.

Andra dashed forward, slashing at its legs with her dagger. The wolf lifted its head and pulled Fiona right off the ground with it. She felt a moment of panic before Bessen lunged forward and caught her foot. Together, the weight of the two of them was enough to keep the wolf from completely raising its head. As they held it in place, the crows and Andra continued their work, with Melissa joining by leaping up and tearing apart one of the wolf’s haunches, until it finally keeled over.

When they had caught their breath and Bessen and Fiona had retrieved their weapons and Atworth’s crows had settled at the side of the room, Andra turned to confront Riven who had returned to the throne during the battle. “What the Hell, Raven? Attacking your friends with a giant monster is not okay.”

Riven shrugged “Yeah, okay, that was a little much. I just had this zombie wolf and I wanted to do something with it.”

Andra crossed her arms. “Well, it’s gone now. So are you going to give up on this insanity and give back the castle? Or are you planning to send Darren after us now?”

Riven shook her head, smirking. “I’m not giving up, Andra. This is happening.”

A collective groan ran through the room.

“Are you kidding me?” Andra asked. “We can just force you to, you know. You can’t use any magic, and the four of us outnumber Darren.”

Riven let out a derisive laugh. “Can’t use any magic? Me? Where did you get that idea?”

“You’re holding two enchantments that can’t maintain themselves,” Atworth said. “You couldn’t even conjure a breeze earlier.”

“And just look at you,” Bessen added. “Anyone can see you’re at your limit.”

Riven nodded, touching a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Okay, so how do I explain this? Because it’s a bit complicated. You know how when I was in school I mostly studied transformation and charm spells?”

There was a pause.

Andra sighed. “Yes?”

“Well, I also took a lot of classes on magical theory,” Riven continued, “Because, well, they’re the only ones that really teach about fairy magic. Seems a bit strange, doesn’t it? That there’s an entire other type of magic completely different than the one we know and magic schools barely teach it?”

The group shared a glance. “Not really,” said Bessen, finally. “Only fairies can use fairy magic.”

“Fairies and some elves,” Riven corrected. “But, yes, I studied magical theory and as it happens I’m actually one of the greatest magical theoreticians in recent history because I’ve completely revolutionized our understanding of fairy magic.”

“Really?” asked Fiona, feeling an uneasy sort of excitement at the news. “You never mentioned that before. I had no idea.”

Riven leaned forward. “Well, no one does yet. But I’ve spent the last year in the Fae Realms being enchanted and glamoured with all kinds of fairy magic. And even in my dreamlike state, I had plenty of time to probe and study it while I was in that box.”

“Wait, you were in a box?” What had happened to Riven in the Fae Realms? Fiona felt her heart ache for the poor mage.

“I don’t...that doesn’t…” Riven stammered. “I said I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sorry,” said Fiona. “So you were studying fairy magic?”

“Yes,” said Riven dramatically, quickly recollecting her dramatic attitude. “And as it turns out, fairy magic doesn’t come from fairies. It comes from the Fae Realms. That’s why some elves can use it and others can’t. It depends on how strongly they’re tied to that world.”

“Okay,” said Andra doubtfully. “That’s great. But what’s your point?”

“My point,” Riven said, grinning viciously, “is that when you’re in that realm, and you’re twisted and dazed with a dozen different enchantments, fairy magic fills you up. And if you’re very smart, you can pull that magic deep inside you and keep some of it. And then, if you’re even smarter, you can figure out how to control it. And unleash it.”

Fiona’s allies gasped. She glanced between them and Riven to try to understand what was happening. They were staring at the mage with a mixture of shock and wonder.

Riven stood, cackling wildly. “What’s it like” she began in an authoritative voice, “feeling all of that defiance melting away? Suddenly realizing how impressive and wondrous I really am? I have to admit I’m a little jealous of what you must be experiencing.”

Riven strode forward slowly, stepping to the edge of the dais where she leaned forward to look Andra in the eye.

“This is probably the first time you’ve ever met someone you thought was better than you. Does it make you want to…” She spoke the next word slowly, savoring it. “...kneel?”

Bessen and Atworth sank to their knees. Andra stared at Riven for a moment, a helpless look in her eyes, before doing the same.

Fiona raised her hand. “Uh, what’s going on? I’m confused.”

Riven turned to look at Fiona. She had a wild look in her eyes. “You don’t want to kneel?”

“Not particularly,” Fiona said, uncertainly. “Should I?”

Riven straightened and cocked her head, eyes not leaving Fiona. “Strange. You must be immune to glamour. Maybe because you were made from a slime? You should be thinking I’m the most amazing woman in the world right now.”

“I mean, you are pretty amazing,” Fiona said.

Riven scoffed. “You don’t need to coddle me. I’m not Andra. If glamour doesn’t work on you, it’s fine. We outnumber you now, so it’s not like you can win in a fight, anyway.”

“But I don’t want to fight you,” Fiona protested. “I just want you to stop this.”

“Well I’m not going to stop,” Riven said mockingly. “I’m about to get everything I ever wanted.”

“But other people don’t want to live under demon rule.”

“So what?” Riven shouted triumphantly. “People like us always have to set aside our wants and needs and dreams for everyone else. Now it’s their turn to step aside for one of us. I’m going to get what I want.”

Fiona tried to search for a way to explain how absurd this plan was. “But you’ve been hit with lots of charm spells. You can find someone to do that without going through all this.”

“Yes, it’s easy enough to find someone to briefly bring me the bliss of mindless loyalty, but they always get bored and forget about me.” Riven gestured to the room around her. “But think about it. A gift this large is unforgettable. After this, Comtesse Ember will never abandon me.”

Andra had been right, Fiona realized. Riven really did only care about her own gratification. She was like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum.

A moment later it occurred to her. “Brat” had a slightly different meaning to someone like Riven. If she only cared about her own gratification, then maybe the only way to stop her was to give her exactly what she wanted.

Fiona leaped forward and grabbed Riven by the collar, hurling her to the floor where she landed with a grunt. Then she pounced on the mage, pinning her to the floor by her wrists.

“Bad!” Fiona said with a fire in her voice that she hadn’t known she was capable of. “You don’t betray humanity. You don’t mind-control people. And you don’t attack your friends with zombie wolves. You are better than this.”

“Fiona, I—” Riven began.

“Say it,” Fiona interrupted.

“Wh-what?”

“Say you’re better than this.”

Riven’s face turned bright red. “I’m better than this,” she said timidly.

Fiona stared down at the woman pinned below her. There was something about this that excited her. Something about taking control and forcing Riven to do what she wanted and knowing that Riven enjoyed it. She wanted to do it more.

There was laughter from somewhere behind her. Fiona glance back to see that Andra had fallen into a sitting position and was now giggling at Riven. It seemed that the magic Riven had used to make herself look impressive couldn’t hold up when she was placed in such an undignified position.

Fiona stared into Riven’s bloodshot eyes. Riven stared back expectantly.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Fiona asked, discovering that her voice had returned to its usual reserved tone. Riven slowly nodded.

Fiona leaned down and kissed Riven on the lips. Something about their softness or the way the mage returned the kiss sent a wave of tingling excitement through her body. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. A moment later, she pulled away.

“This room smells really terrible,” Riven whispered.

“Yeah, I’ve never needed a bath more in my entire life,” Fiona admitted.

Somewhere behind her, Atworth cleared their throat. “So does this mean you’ll be able to call off Comtesse Ember?”

Riven looked to the side, embarrassed. “Oh, Comtesse Ember isn’t coming here,” she explained. “My plan was actually a little more complex than that.”