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Ripple & Riddle
A Slippery Start

A Slippery Start

Edric paced around his cramped room at the boarding house, his gaze drifting back to the job listing he’d picked up earlier. Questions buzzed in his mind like angry bees, making him dizzy. Eventually, he sank onto his bed and draped an arm over his eyes.

“It’s just a butler job,” he muttered. “I can handle that… right?”

The moment he said it, doubts crashed over him. You’ve never done this before. You’ll be awful. Rhyden will figure out you’re spying on him. They won’t hire you at all. You’ll end up working for that creep forever just for some coin…

He shuddered at the idea of ditching his carefree odd jobs for steady employment. It went against the promise he’d made to himself: never to settle in one place. But he needed money, so what choice did he really have?

A soft knock on the door pulled him away from his worries. He sat up, trying to look less miserable. “Come in,” he called, half expecting the visitor.

Lyra slipped into the room, exactly as he’d guessed—she was the only person who ever checked on him.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, her tone laced with gentle concern. “Big day, huh?”

Edric gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’m about to apply for a job with the most detestable man in the city. I’d say I’m doing great.” While Edric wasn’t sure of every evil person in the city he was sure Rhyden would be up there.

She offered a sympathetic smile. “He might be the worst, but at least you’ll earn some coin. And once the job’s done—if all goes well—we can celebrate with Jannik’s beer.”

That perked him up just a little. “What’ll you be doing while I’m slaving away?”

“Other than freeloading off you?” Lyra quipped without shame. “Seriously, though, Jannik gave both of us a task, right? So I’ll dig around for more info on my end. Not sure where I’ll start, but I’ll manage.”

She glanced around his tiny room, then turned back to him. “Speaking of which, where exactly are you headed?”

Edric flipped the job notice over, checking the small map on the back even though he’d already memorized it. “It’s in the southern quarter,” he said.

Lyra’s eyes went wide. “That’s at least an hour’s walk.”

“Sure it is. Rich folks always live down there, right?” He hesitated. “What’s the problem?”

“You only have an hour left,” she pointed out.

He shot upright, panic jolting through him. “I—I’ll never make it in time!”

Lyra sighed. “Probably not if you just run. But I have an idea.”

She led him outside into the crowded courtyard, where travelers and peddlers bustled around and porters lugged crates. Once they were out there, she motioned for Edric to step closer.

“All right, we need speed,” she said, tying her hair back. “Use your mimic spell.”

He blinked. “Now? Here?”

Lyra nodded firmly. Edric’s decided to go along with whatever her plan was and channeled his power into the mimic spell. The sound of Lyra’s voice from the previous day could now be heard in the courtyard: “It’s mostly a novelty.” The sound faded as the Flaw sprang to life.

A transparent film spread across the ground under his feet. “This is still so strange,” he groaned, trying not to stumble as his boots skimmed the slick surface.

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“Well, I like weird,” Lyra said with a grin. She readied herself, then unleashed a gust of wind that caught them both. “Hold on!” A whoosh of air erupted around them.

“Wait—whoa!” he yelped. With the ground so slippery, the blast of air hurled them forward at an incredible speed. Colors blurred around them as they shot across the courtyard, leaving onlookers speechless in their wake.

The wind tore at Edric’s hair, and his heart pounded every time they jolted over uneven stones. A startled woman dashing out of their path shouted in alarm, sending her laundry basket flying, clothes scattering everywhere.

“Sorry!” Lyra called over her shoulder, sounding more amused than remorseful. Her eyes glittered with excitement, and Edric felt his own adrenaline rising despite his anxiety.

“Ever since I found out about your Flaw, I’ve wanted to try it!” she shouted, voice filled with glee.

They veered into the main street, swerving around shocked pedestrians who leapt aside. Edric’s pulse pounded in his ears, half-terror, half-thrill. Every bump against the cobblestones rattled his teeth, but he couldn’t help a breathless laugh.

Suddenly, the slick coating vanished. Edric’s boots caught on solid stone, jarring him forward. Before he could react, Lyra lost her balance too. He realized too late that he’d forgotten to renew the Flaw’s effect.

Their momentum flung them across the pavement. Edric tried to brace himself, but he still ended up sprawling on the ground, scraping his palms against gravel. Lyra tumbled beside him, looking rattled but not seriously harmed.

“Sorry,” he gasped. “I spaced on the time limit.”

Lyra propped herself on one elbow, shoulders shaking with laughter despite the pain. “Terrible timing, Ed. Ouch.” She winced but still managed a grin. “That was incredible—until the crash.”

Feeling both foolish and relieved, Edric stood and extended a hand to help her up. “I won’t forget this time,” he promised, cheeks burning.

Refocusing, he channeled the mimic spell a second time. The greasy sheen reappeared, and Lyra immediately whipped up another wind. They lunged forward once more, braced to handle the speed this time. Adrenaline coursed through Edric’s veins, and Lyra’s triumphant grin set his heart racing.

“C’mon! Faster!” she urged, casting a burst of wind behind them.

A twinge of panic latched onto Edric when he saw a fruit cart directly in their path. “Uh, Lyra!”

“I see it!” She flicked her wrist, redirecting the wind so they skated sideways at the last second. They avoided the cart—barely—while apples and melons skittered across the road.

Lyra whooped in victory, and Edric’s cheeks heated, torn between embarrassment and excitement. If not for the urgent deadline, he might have suggested another loop around just for the thrill.

“Okay, let’s not kill ourselves,” Edric gasped between breaths. “We still need to get to the southern quarter, in one piece preferably.”

She glanced at him with a playful smirk. “Spoken like a man trying to land this city’s biggest butler job!”

They barreled onward, the city blocks whipping by in shades of ocher, stone gray, and golden sun. Overhead, wooden shop signs rattled, while rooftops blurred into jagged outlines. Despite himself, Edric found laughter bubbling up in his chest. He caught a glimpse of Lyra’s bright grin and felt a rush of pure exhilaration.

“Hard left!” Lyra shouted.

He bent his knees and angled his feet, letting them skid sharply around a bakery corner. A delivery boy stopped in his tracks, nearly dropping a basket of bread as they whizzed past. Edric noticed the buildings growing taller, the gates more elaborate. Decorative arches spiraled with ivy. They were almost in the southern quarter.

Finally, they slowed, mindful of the heightened security around these parts. Edric’s heart still hammered from the wild ride, and he exchanged a breathless grin with Lyra.

Gradually, they eased their speed, mindful of the guards stationed at each estate gate. Edric’s heart still thumped from the wild ride, and he exchanged a breathless grin with Lyra, who looked equally exhilarated. A few guards watched them suspiciously, as if uncertain what to make of two wind-powered travelers shooting past their prim hedgerows.

“Which one is it?” Lyra asked between ragged breaths, eyeing the lavish entrances.

Steeling himself, Edric swallowed. “We keep going. It’s near the old orchard, according to the map.” Panic flickered at the thought of being late, but he resisted asking for another reckless burst of speed. They really didn’t need to flatten a rosebush or crash into a wall.

They reached a winding lane lined with towering sycamores and slowed to a brisk walk. Just when Edric was ready to sprint again, a tall set of wrought-iron gates came into view. Gilded leaves and a crest with a hawk clutching a scepter glinted in the sun, looming in silent splendor.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “That’s definitely fancy enough for Rhyden.”

Edric exhaled shakily, dusting off his shirt and wrestling the urge to turn and run. It was too late for second thoughts. Side by side, they stepped up to the imposing gates of the mansion, ready—though still out of breath.