I’d meant to reach the roof of the house next door, but the jump was a terrible one. So I followed King Leopold down onto the inhospitable street below.

In fact, I followed the king almost precisely – so precisely, that I actually landed on top of him.

He was just getting up, groaning as he went, when I dropped. We went down hard, but luckily he absorbed most of the impact. I rolled off unscathed.

Leopold groaned, tried to rise, and slumped to the ground.

Which was a problem. Even if he wasn’t a big guy with a penchant for eating a little too much, we were kind of in a hurry. I didn’t have time to wait for someone to wake up, much less to carry them.

I thought about leaving him where he lay.

But I didn’t think we’d get a second chance to break into the Hall of Holy Relics. And even if we would, I wasn’t going to risk bone saws for Leopold.

No way in hell.

No. It was now or never. Get him to safety, or really piss Salvidora off.

Swearing, I tried yanking him to his feet. That didn’t work. I tried slapping his face, which felt good, but also didn’t work.

By now, the paladins had reached the window, and they started to rain spears down on us. I grabbed Leopold’s ankle, and ran as fast as I could for the nearest alley, cursing so much the scepter was set on near constant stun mode.

I didn’t even care. I was pissed and, to mix bathroom metaphors, scared shitless. Still, we reached an awning safely, and I ducked under it. Spears landed harmlessly in the building face.

Leopold stirred, but didn’t move.

“Quick,” one of the paladins yelled, “pursue.”

“Kill,” the robots chimed in.

One by one, they left the window. I took a deep breath to steady myself. I had very little time before the killer robots and guards reached us. Leopold hadn’t woken up, and there was no way I could carry him.

Nor could I hide anywhere. The awning might have shielded us from spears, but this would be the first place they looked. I had to be far away from it by time they got here.

And try as I might, I couldn’t think of how I could do that with Leopold.

I peered out to look around, hoping I’d missed something – anything.

At that moment, something dropped on my head. It should have freaked me out, but I’d had the same experience too recently to panic.

It was rope, being dropped from above.

I glanced up. Sure enough, rope seemed to have appeared from nowhere. The roof overhead looked clear, with nothing but gray sky behind me.

“Garrett!” I said.

“Quick, tie the rope to him. And then hold on yourself.”

I didn’t argue. I had no idea what he was planning. He couldn’t possibly think the paladins would miss us out in the open on the rooftops. But he had a plan, and I didn’t.

So I did as he said, wrapping the rope around Leopold’s beefy torso and tying it tight. He’d probably wake up covered in bruises after all was said and done.

But, he kind of deserved it anyway. And he’d be alive, and safe from the bone saws.

I took the end of the rope, and held tight. All at once, it went taut, and then Leopold started to rise. A moment later, I was moving too.

I did what I could to assist, guiding myself on the side of the building and using toe holds when I could to lighten the load.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Slowly, painfully slowly, we climbed. I could hear the din of voices, human and robotic, first far away.

But growing nearer.

“Quickly,” I urged.

Garrett grunted in answer.

Up we went.

Up.

Up.

Then, Leopold was over the top of the roof, and in a moment, I had followed, pulling myself up onto the ledge.

“Quick,” Garrett said, “get close.”

“To what?”

“To Leopold.”

I was about to argue – the king’s stench was nothing I ever wanted to get near again, and I had no idea how that would help us anyway – when I heard voices closer than ever.

I scrunched as close as I could without gagging. All at once, fabric slid down over us, like a big, dark tent obscuring the gray sky and city from view.

“What the…?” I whispered.

“Quiet,” Garrett hushed.

Leopold stirred at my feet, making a soft gurgling, moaning sound. At the same time, I heard a quiet, rustling.

I realized then what was going on. Garrett had drawn his magical cloak of invisibility around us – all of us.

I wasn’t sure if he was nuts, or a genius.

That verdict would depend on what happened in the next few seconds.

By now, bodies were flooding out of the Hall of Holy Relics. I couldn’t see anything because of the cloak, but I could hear plenty. The heavy footsteps of armored men, running fast. The click-clack of robotic tread on cobbles. The endless whir and clang of pistons and the screech of, “Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Leopold stirred again, and I was afraid he’d pick now of all times to wake up. But in a moment, he subsided.

“They’re gone,” someone shouted below us.

“Quick, search the street.”

“They can’t have got far.”

“Search every house. Kill anyone who gets in your way.”

More screaming ensued, this time as much from the sleeping people torn from their beds as anything else. But none of the screams sounded like death screams.

I’d have felt bad about that. Probably not bad enough to turn myself in to stop the killing. But bad anyway.

In time, the men and robots moved on to scour the city streets. When Garrett lifted the cloak, it was still dark out, but the sun was beginning to rise. A pinkish gray light lit the sky. Leopold was still asleep.

“We need to move fast,” he said. “You have some plan for this guy?”

I outlined what I had in mind, and he actually laughed. “It’s not the stupidest thing you’ve come up with.”

“It’ll work,” I said confidently.

“Maybe. But we need to get started. We can’t wait for him to wake up.”

Which, true or not, didn’t sit well with me. Leopold weighed a lot, and he smelled. A lot. I didn’t want to have to lug his dumb ass through the city.

When I hesitated, Garrett added, “Unless you want to risk the bone saws.”

Which of course decided me. A violent shiver ran up my spine at the very mention of the words, and my stomach did a very uncomfortable flip one way and then a flop the other. Damned phobias.

“Fine.”

The rope was still tied under his arms, as we hadn’t had time to remove it. Now, we lowered him together. He felt even heavier than he looked, and I was dripping sweat by time we got him to the ground.

Dripping sweat, and feeling the pangs of hunger. So far, I’d only vaguely registered them, but now they gnawed away at my stomach. I couldn’t imagine living like this for months or years.

The sooner we get rid of Leopold…

We followed the king down, though our progress proved far quicker. Garrett retrieved his rope and removed his cloak. Like the rope, it went into his bag. Then, we propped the old man up and each took an arm.

“What do we say if anyone asks about him?”

“Too much homebrew,” he answered without hesitation.

“Homebrew?”

“Hooch, from the local home distilleries.”

“I thought you said there was nothing like that here?” It might not be the most pressing issue at the moment, but I couldn’t help feeling aggrieved. A stiff drink certainly would have made the last 24 hours more bearable.

“I said ale. But you don’t want to drink that crap anyway. It’s as likely to make you go blind as anything else.”

“Oh.”

“Come on.”

Grunting and grumbling, we started to walk, dragging the unconscious Leopold between us. He felt only marginally lighter this way, though at least we had less to worry about should we drop him from this height.

We’d made it about halfway, pausing now and again to catch our breath and listen for soldiers, when the king came to with a violent sputter. “What? What? Where are we? Who are you?”

This last was directed Garrett’s way. For his part, the master thief bared his teeth in a terrifying rendition of a smile. He had never been a fan of King Leopold in life, and apparently death only made it worse. Worse to the point that he couldn’t even fake smile.

“I am a friend of Kaej’s, majesty,” he said, with a very good impression of deference. “He enlisted my aid in getting you to safety.”

The king looked ready to protest, but Garrett added hurriedly, “I understand you’ve had quite the ordeal?”

“Oh, you have no idea, young man.” Which proved to be the launching point for a lengthy series of complaints, all about his torture, the unruly spirit who freed him, the incompetent minion – me – and so on.

It was during this whine fest that I learned the nature of King Leopold’s suffering. And I have to confess, I was sorely disappointed.

The so-called torture consisted of paladins stopping in with plates brimming with luscious foodstuffs, and eating slowly before him, luxuriating in the tastes and textures while King Flabby wasted away.

Not a single use of the rack or iron maiden I’d spotted on the way in.

Those, like the intermittent ash storms and the blood spots in the cells, seemed to have been aesthetic rather than functional choices.

Which only made me angrier at Leopold. I’d not only risked life and limb to save the flabby bastard, I’d actually felt sorry for him.

And all under false pretenses.