“Ah, so, you’re friends with the Baron’s son?” Quinten asked from a chair at my bedside. His hands shook, trying to pull out the last quill with the forceps. A challenging feat since their hold on the thin buried objects kept slipping, and judging by the click of his tongue, it happened again. My back was entirely numb, but I could still feel the quills stirring around when he tugged.

He’d been almost forcing himself to ask me different questions throughout his work. Something about it helping the patient relax? Though, it sounded like it was stressing him out instead, especially after he’d asked about my family.

“Hardly? Somewhat? I’ve only met Amir twice, and he’s been a bit…”

Quinten whipped his brow and chuckled for the first time this evening. “Pompous? First name basis with the heir apparent is quite something.”

“I wouldn’t know what else even to call him, and isn’t his father in trouble?”

“Eh, those old families are always ‘in trouble,’ and people will complain, but no one wants to find out if removing this particular pillar will bring the building down.”

“Scared of change? I suppose I can—Yow!” I dug my face into the pillow, feeling like a lung had been extracted through a small hole in my back.

“S-Sorry, that one was deeper than the pain relief,” Quinten said, dropping off the quill with the others in a metal pan and quickly tying together a healing spell. Healing just one would have caused my body to latch onto the remaining quills, so the previous two holes in my back were still open, covered with alcohol-soaked gauze. “We can wait a while for me to get to the other injuries. I don’t have enough mana for more just yet.”

I stretched out without fear of quills stabbing into me for the first time in forever, regretting it slightly when those other injuries reared their ugly head. “No, it’s fine, they’re not so bad. Thanks for your help.”

Quinten looked away and shrugged. “No worries, it’s what you paid me for.”

Without the distraction of someone digging around in my back, I had questions of my own to ask. “You knew about the peluda. Does everyone?”

He shook his head and started rolling the unused gauze back up. “It doesn’t make the papers if that’s what you mean. It used to, back when a much nastier one made it in from the lake during a flood. People kept disappearing, but the kind that don’t get missed enough to ring alarm bells. Took a while, but knights eventually found out and went down to kill it. Now, every parent around here uses it as a story to scare children into behaving.”

“I don’t think they did a very good job killing it.”

“Yeah, well, they found out it was keeping the population of other creatures down there low. Nasty things small enough to crawl up the entrances but large enough to kill someone kept emerging. Mum says knights were going down there every other week on culls. Then it all stopped with the official story being they got all the nests.”

He got up to screw back on the cap for the alcohol and pile everything into the metal pan. “There are some who liked to collect the peluda’s old quills and prick themselves with it. Apparently, it makes you hallucinate and feel at ease. Some use too much or have a bad reaction and don’t have the spell to neutralise the venom. They’d come to the clinic for help.

“The supply soon ran out after they killed it, and the patients stopped coming. My mentor said it was quiet for a while, but then patients started showing up again. She went to the knights and was told they’d handle it and not to say anything. That was years ago now.”

Which begged the question of why I hadn’t been warned. “Your mentor didn’t go to the papers or warn people?”

“Eh, it’s an open secret for those of us involved. The woman who owns the biggest newspaper is actually going for Baron. She definitely knows, and if she’s not saying anything, it’s because she doesn’t plan on changing it. No point getting people riled up if you have to deal with that once you’re Baron.”

I sat up and reached behind to run my fingers over the newly healed skin. “Right.”

He used a spell I hadn’t felt before to clean up the blood that had got on my shirt and the sheets. It congealed above his hand, and he dumped it into the pan, jiggling like a dessert I’d seen at the castle. “Might be better for you not to spread that story around. Or go in the sewers anymore.”

“I hope that doesn’t work on a person,” I wondered out loud instead of lying and thinking about how I’d ask Jeremy about it.

He grimaced and looked at me like I was immoral for even thinking that. “Definitely not this version or anything close to it.”

Quinten collected everything and made his way to the door, stopping with his hand on the handle. “You know…you’re not as scary as I imagined. Sorry for being so awkward, but, umm, you can come sit at my table anytime you want.”

“Scary? Why would you think that? I’m perfectly pleasant.”

He had the door open and had already taken a step out. The look in his eyes made it clear he was still trying to decide whether to stay and answer or get out. “You’re just a tad odd and can come off a bit… brash? You did trip a drunk menace twice your size the first time I saw you.”

“Huh,” I said, reevaluating everything I’d done around him as he closed the door. “Oh, if a knight comes asking after me, could you tell them I was fine?”

Quinten’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak as the door clicked shut.

Bitsy had been waiting for the stranger to leave and emerged from the lavatory, having gotten over being ‘almost drowned.’ Everything was new to him, and I could sympathise with how overwhelming that could be. He climbed up the blanket hanging off the bed and dove beneath the covers to find a place to sleep, amazed by the comfort and warmth.

I fell back onto the bed, careful not to squish him, and took advantage of that same comfort.

…

I placed a hand over where Bitsy was in the deep pocket of my skirt to keep him inside. Bringing him to the palace was not the best idea; bringing him down to the kitchens was just naive of me.

I’d snuck him a few nuts from the bar at the inn when I’d gone down for breakfast with Quinten, where he insisted on healing my arms without pay. I still left behind a silver for the stubborn boy to deal with when I left for the palace.

It was the best place for me to enter the sewers and have a chance of finding the way back to the man to whom I owed some books—I just hoped he liked the mystery books I’d already finished. If not, maybe food could make up for it.

I poked my head inside to see the cleanup from breakfast still going on, eventually getting the attention of someone leaning back under the weight of all the plates he was carrying. He looked around for a clear counter to heave them onto and I moved some containers out of the way to make space.

He wiped his hands across his apron. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m just looking for some kind of packed lunch. That you’d take on a trip? Maybe some seeds?” I said, not really knowing what to ask for.

“Sure, let me just check with Granya.”

He was off into the back of the kitchen before I could open my mouth to persuade him not to. The red-haired chef who’d inadvertently rebuked me when I wanted a salt lick soon approached me with a wrapped package and a paper bag.

“Hard cheese, bread, and fruit in this one. And sunflower seeds in this,” she said with a forced smile, handing me the items. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

I stood my ground and smiled back. “Thank you.”

Then I spun, my skirt swishing, and I walked quickly towards my room for the books—I didn’t get very far.

“Valeria?” Jeremy said from the staircase leading to the dining room. “Do you mind coming with me?”

I trudged up the stairs after him, throwing out my plans for the morning to make room for whatever I’d gotten myself into this time. We didn’t go to the meeting room or his office but to a sitting room on the second floor where we hadn’t passed anyone in the hallways for ages.

Inside, white sheets covered most of the furniture and the curtains were drawn. Jeremy pushed in a bolt meant to complete the gold inlay, but the light stayed dormant. He pulled out the bolt and twisted it about, but we still stood in darkness.

“Mana isn’t making it there, so I don’t think that’s going to work,” I said, straining my senses to find the inlay in the wall.

Jeremy sighed and went to open the curtains and window to let some air into the stuffy room. I closed the door and sat on one of the covered sofas, dust flying into the air worse than when the dragon’s breath had collapsed a tunnel. And it was making me sneeze again.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Sorry about this,” Jeremy said, choosing to lean on the window sill instead. “We can’t be meeting in my office anymore after yesterday. Too conspicuous.”

“Oh?”

“We didn’t anticipate using your talents and didn’t set up any safeguards. At the moment, there are far too many threads to pull to find your identity, and we don’t want to offer anymore. Hence, the secluded sitting room.”

I couldn’t find very many of these threads. Maybe the meeting where the duke mentioned I was the one in Tamil? “Aren’t all the people that know stuff chiefs, watch, knights, or behind bars?”

“Not that I don’t trust them, but I’ll just say I have a few of their counterparts in other kingdoms and duchies feeding me reports.”

“You told the captains that I had an enchantment. Isn’t that all they’re going to think?”

Jeremy folded his arms and shook his head. “It was the best we could come up with on short notice. That kind of enchantment takes a lot of labour and would be impossible to keep quiet forever. Someone will figure out that we have nothing close to what you did. But that’s not for you to worry about; we’ll deal with anything before it becomes a problem. The least we can do after every report I’ve read extols the virtues of you, sorry, Eidolon.”

I sighed. “It’s better than twig, I guess. Whats’ it mean?”

He puffed out his chest, looking quite proud of himself. “It’s an old word for spirits. Invisible, illusive, and hard to prove their existence. We thought it was a perfect fit for you.”

I scoffed. “You know they can still see me? Most of the people yesterday weren't mages, and I was lucky they were the ones on guard duty.”

“They always are. That’s the norm. All my information gathering has to be done in plain sight. No one expects or is equipped to handle a covert infiltration where mages can’t detect the person. That’s why keeping you a secret is important for your safety. Especially if you want to continue this line of work.”

“I do.”

“Woah, I want you to, but take a moment to think. I’m just starting to come around to the idea since if you’d listened to me, we may not have gotten there in time. You were also injured and are still too young to serve officially.”

We went back and forth a few more times. Each of my curt responses wore down the smooth-spoken man to the point where his last word on the matter was an uncomplicated ‘fine,’ followed by a long sigh. He changed the subject and pulled out a sheaf of paper from a satchel, crumpled and wrinkled my water stains. Then an accompanying set without any of the damage.

I took them to compare the smudged writing and the transcribed copy of the same incomplete pages. “Witch’s scrawl?”

“Mhm, they’re from the alchemy station,” he said and gestured to me. “We have someone coming over to translate, but…”

“You have your own witch?” I offered.

“Let’s not say that part out loud, please.”

I read through the sentences, trying to piece them together while missing whole paragraphs of context. It was slow work at first, getting used to how they looped their symbols and drew out formulas. It confirmed they were more alike my Mother and I than I’d initially thought.

I unfolded the bag of seeds and scooped them into my mouth while I read, sneaking a few into my pocket for Bitsy. “Some compounds and mixtures they’re using are new to me.”

Jeremy had perched on the back of the sofa to peer over my shoulder as I read. “You can’t go letter by letter and give it to someone who would?”

“It doesn’t work that way. Each word is a complete symbol rather than made up of individual letters. I assume you asked the alchemist herself?”

“She poured something on the paper when being apprehended and has only said a few words in a language we can’t figure out. We’ve had every ambassador and translator listen in, and nothing. Witches don’t have a language, do they?”

I shook my head. “Only written. I wasn’t taught any pronunciation to scrawl.”

Jeremy handed me a fresh paper and pencil from behind me. “Mind writing something for us?”

I leant forward to use the table before me, scowling at the cloth for messing up my writing but not wanting to create a dust storm by removing it. Jeremy dictated a list of questions ranging from why she was in the cavern to where the older lady who escaped would be. He also requested I ask for a more basic and detailed version of the recipe we agreed was for the dragon’s breath.

He went to grab the papers after I finished writing them, eager to take them down to the prisoner quickly. I moved them out of his reach, understanding the opportunity. “Why’s there a peluda in the sewers you didn’t tell me about?”

Jeremy reached past me for the papers again, and I levitated them to the ceiling. He rolled his eyes and groaned, moving around to sit on the sofa opposite me. “Fine. Captain Oteli said you broke your finger running from it?”

“Ahh, sure,” I said, happy with that conclusion.

Jeremy nodded. “I apologise for the scare, but it’s trained to run away from the smell of people, so you were never in any danger. It’s a decision from the previous duke that she deemed worth the risk. Vince doesn’t even know, so he can honestly say he has nothing to do with it if something goes wrong.”

“How was it trained to avoid people?” I asked, already understanding what had happened and didn’t like it.

“No need for the details, but it knows to fear us.”

Fear that had turned to resentment over the years. Emboldened by encountering people without the armour, weapons, and training it had learnt to run from, it developed a taste for people and instead came to savour them.

“And if it no longer does?” I ventured.

“There’s no indication of that…unless you have anything to report?”

“I’m confident it tracked me down,” I said, not wanting to go through proving to him it had also eaten people before.

Jeremy looked defeated and rested his head in his hands for a moment. “I’ll talk with Faraya and see what our options are. Yet another mess from the previous owners we need to clean, inside a house we moved into ages ago.”

I brought down the paper from the ceiling to our level. He reached out, and I moved them out of the way again. “Can I have another one of those outfits I had yesterday? With a better mask?”

“No…Why?”

The papers shook in the air, demonstrating why he had to agree.

“Fine, I’ll also arrange for a meeting with Talia. Anything else, Madam Eidolon?”

I shrugged, smiled sweetly, and dropped the papers into his waiting hands. “That’s all for now.”

He got up to leave and tried to persuade me to see Morris and consider seeing Janette so she could ensure I was still in one piece. Also, to nudge her into forgiving them all for letting me go in the first place.

I snuck around the palace to my room, avoiding any more run-ins with distractions. Grabbed the books and a scarf that I would have needed Haily’s help to wear properly. Then, I found the stairs down to the basement.

After draining my necklace, I tried the door to no avail. The stone down here wasn’t as mana-rich as the walls of the palace and castle, so I could get through and close it behind me without disturbing the pipes.

Bitsy was apprehensive about getting out of my pocket to scurry across the floor. Not because of predators but because he wanted to stay with me and knew that would mean getting subjected to another bath.

I assured him he’d learn to enjoy it like I had and tipped him out of my pocket, along with half-eaten seeds. Being back in the darkness reminded me of all my shortcomings the previous day, my nonexistent practice in what I had learnt from the flying foxes and my lack of prowess in anything resembling fighting.

Oleza had overpowered me mere moments after I surprised her. The peluda had caught me off guard, and I’d spent the entire encounter panicking from one moment to the next. They’d caught me near the cart, and I’d frozen. They’d cornered me in the tunnel, and I got out because Pennie was there as a distraction.

“Do you think I should go back to Instructor Daniels and suffer through whatever punishment he dishes out?” I asked Bitsy.

From what he gathered about the instructor from my thoughts, he decided to stay in my room inside the bag of seeds while I left to learn how to better protect us. I laughed at the sentiment, which echoed back at me from either side of the tunnel.

It was weirdly encouraging, and I did already know what the right answer was. If I wanted to carry on sneaking about, I needed to prepare for when I got caught, promising myself to attend tomorrow’s training, sighing at what could come of it.

“Bitsy,” I groaned as he bit into an unidentifiable piece of rotting vegetation, scrunching up my face as he continued to enjoy his meal despite already gorging himself on seeds and nuts all morning.

The doors under each wall were still unlocked with items from the cavern sitting at the base of the stairs to the surface. The enchantments were on, but I could walk through without facing the retaliation they promised.

I tied the scarf tighter around my face in an attempt to block the smell that I was sadly getting used to. It was also to mask my face in case he talked to someone about the polite assassin he met the same day as someone snuck into the cavern.

It was an unrealistic scenario, except Jeremy had me looking over my shoulder after what he’d said about people trying to find out who I was. I couldn’t imagine how any of the knights in that cavern could or would expose me, and the same with the chiefs.

There were too many leaps someone needed to make between clues to figure out I was the one who had thwarted their plans—whatever those were besides ruining a night at the opera.

It was like a badly written murder mystery book, where the reader couldn’t figure anything out until it was explained at the end with extra information pulled from thin air.

“Hello?” I asked into the darkness near the alcove.

“Is that my polite assassin back to finish the job?” he asked.

I pulled back the cover to find him reading in the same position as last time. “I’m surprised you recognised my voice. You can call me Val instead of that.”

“Eh…I’ll think about it. I’m Marty, but you’ll want to call me handsome.”

“I won’t even give that a second thought, Marty,” I said, laughing at his wiggling eyebrows. “I have those books you asked for. Hope you like murder mystery.”

Marty took the offered books and held out the one he’d been reading. It didn’t have a cover or back to tell me the title. A ripping sound distracted me from reading through and finding out what it was about.

A few torn pages were held out to me. “I don’t like finding out who dun it. Kinda ruins the characters for me. Bastards always make the most likeable ones the culprit.”

I didn’t have anything to say back, party because he was correct that they did do that, and took the offered pages. “I also got you something to eat if you want?”

He took the packaged food and picked out a piece of hard cheese to nibble on and share with Bucky, who’d poked his head out from beneath the blankets.

Before he got absorbed in the book, I had a question for him. “Would you happen to know the way to the gambling house from down here?”

He nodded, searching through the rest of the food I’d brought. “Of course, I used to work there.”