Khukri crouched on the bed, entering a trance as she shifted her primary sense to hearing. The world fell away, leaving her ears twitching as she pinpointed the metal clicks from the door’s other side. In the strip’s wooden structures, it was easy enough to install a simple wooden bar, but the stone walls forced the Othelans to get creative. Instead, a configuration of metal poles formed a frame between the door and its opposite wall. It was a noisy thing to set up and take down, but whoever was coming through was trying to be quiet. Quiet enough she wouldn’t have woken, had Master put her to bed. Right now, her best move was to keep the element of surprise and arm herself in silence.

Khukri’s other senses crashed back to reality as Master’s muzzle pressed between her thighs, warm mouth lifting her slightly as his tongue wriggled between the folds of her pussy and roughly caressed her clit. Fur throughout her body stood on end as she shot straight up in shock, pressing his tongue deeper as she leaned into him.

A small yelp escaped before she clamped her hands over her muzzle, leaping off Master in a panic and rolling to a stop beside the bed. Damn it! He gave in now? Of all times? Without an intruder, she could’ve milked the innocent act and frustrated him for hours! “Master? Didn’t you hear me? Someone’s coming.”

Horror flashed over his face as he sat, scrambling back on the bed as his gaze shifted between her and the door. “Oh fuck. Khukri, I’m so sorry. I thought-”

“Never mind,” Khukri hushed. She retrieved her blades and skirted the room to the side of the door, throwing a sidelong glance Master’s way. “They’re almost through. Grab your other weapon.”

Master’s eyes went wide as he looked down before frantically pulling his pants up.

The lock clicked, and the door eased slowly open, but the moment Issac poked his head through, Khukri wrapped an arm around him and dragged him inside. She growled, pressing a blade to his throat and eliciting a small panicked gasp.

“Khukri!” Master said sharply. “Let him go.”

Khukri withdrew the blade and slipped away, watching Issac carefully for any sudden moves.

“Sorry man, you just surprised her is all,” Master said, heading to the door and peeking outside before edging it shut, brow furrowing. “You never come anywhere close to Khukri unless you have at least four girls with you. What’s wrong?”

Issac glanced her way, then shook it off, tightening his jaw as he locked eyes with Master. “Look, this is serious. You need to tell me right now if you’re really Ruari Tythic.”

A grin spread across Master’s lips. “This again? I th-”

“No!” Issac said, roughly grabbing Master by the shoulders. “No. No jokes, no messing around. Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly, right now.”

Master’s smile died, concern etching into his features as he nodded. “Yes. I am Ruari Tythic.”

A sigh escaped Issac as he let go, pacing away and lowering his head. “Damn it, this is… you need to leave. Now.”

Khukri met Master’s eyes, exchanging concerned looks before sitting on the bed, tossing her knives down and grabbing her footguards. “You’re kicking us out?” Master asked. “I mean, did I do something wrong?”

The spotted dog lifted his head, letting out a long sigh before turning to face Master. “The girls aren’t with me because after you escape, they’ll be questioned on what they know. I’m here to warn you, Ruari.”

“Warn me?” Master grabbed his shirt from the floor and threaded his arms through the sleeves. “What’s going on?”

“There’s… there’s no easy way to say this.” Issac grimaced, unable to look Master in the eyes. “The Tythic Kingdom has fallen. According to the new queen, all members of Tythic royalty were purged in the coup.”

Master stopped, fingers halfway finished with his first button. “What?”

“It was months ago, but information takes forever to get here. You probably got out just before it happened.” Issac’s head jumped up as he approached Master, finishing Master’s buttons as he talked. “Don’t lose hope. If you’re alive, it means they’re lying about getting all the royals, right? Who knows how many others they missed? Your family might be in hiding somewhere, waiting for the chance to strike back.”

Khukri slid her pants on, buckles closing as she watched. Of all the people in the world Master could’ve impersonated, he picked one nobody would believe, right up until everyone wanted him dead. Unless… she hesitated, fingers wrapped around her chestpiece as she glanced over her shoulder. He’d always said he couldn’t tell her who he was to protect people back home, but had he ever actually said he wasn’t Ruari?

“Why does that matter?” Master asked. “There’s an entire sea and the Othelan Republic between here and Tythic. What’s coming after me right now?”

He definitely wasn’t the real Ruari, Khukri assured herself, standing while she slipped her armour on. He was planning to go to Sibir… which was very, very far from Tythic and anyone who wanted Tythic royalty dead. No, he didn’t own anything a commoner wouldn’t have… Well, except for a stack of books. Oh, and upwards of six hundred thousand florins to buy her that he stole from his sisters… Which meant his sisters had hundreds of thousands of florins to steal.

“Ugh, simple Ruari,” Issac said, dramatically shielding his face as he stepped away. “Coups don’t just… happen. The people who want the throne need resources, and the easiest place to get them is from people who benefit from a change in leadership."

Master’s eyes slid shut as he sunk onto the bed, sighing loudly. “Like the Direwood Syndicate?”

Issac leaned against the wall. “Most of it was probably from the Tsu Empire or your southern neighbours, but the Direwood Syndicate’s been frozen out of Tythic for decades now. If a group of rebels allowed them to expand our network to their country? Certain people might consider that a worthwhile investment.”

So, how would it have gone if he was Ruari? He’d have found out a coup was happening, stolen the money, and escaped in common clothing with a bunch of peasant tools. Then Via would’ve identified him by scent and confronted him, except he escaped and she chased him here. Master said he’d come specifically because it took so long for information to get here, and there were people back home in trouble. If he convinced Issac he was still royalty, Issac would remove Via, then Master could run to Sibir to become a knight. Knights, which, incidentally, Issac had told her were nobility.

“So the Direwood Syndicate, the guys everyone on the continent works for, are coming to get me?” Master asked, rubbing his face in frustration.

“Not everyone,” Issac corrected. “The syndicate is a myriad of companies that work together to resist the monopolies back home, but they’re hardly unified. You’re a valuable bargaining chip for expansion into the new region, but when everyone has an advantage, no one does. I pay someone at port specifically to inform me if my mother shows up unannounced, so I can clean up. She arrived two hours ago, and I suspect she intends to seize you herself, rather than risk a security company running off with her prize.”

Via said he wasn’t Ruari, Khukri reasoned; just a farmer named Ashling. Of course, that was directly after a very powerful gay man hugged him and yelled about how happy he was ‘Ruari’ was alive. What made more sense from a man she’d been pulling a complicated con job with since the day he met her? That he was a farmer who became the avatar of a god who wanted him to become a Sibiric knight, or that he was a minor royal who got magic powers from a divine relic he swiped and was now running scared? She blinked, standing and sliding her knives into their sheathes. Son of a bitch, he was Ruari, wasn’t he? A tingle ran through her jaw as she suppressed a knowing smile. Now that the competition was gone, that made him the rightful king, didn’t it? That kind of made her a king’s Whip. “Master, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Master didn’t move, still sitting on the bed staring at the door. “I need a minute to think,” he said, rubbing his eye. “I haven’t thought it through. I don’t have a plan.”

Khukri stalked around the bed, grabbing him by the hand so he’d look at her. “There’s no time to think. If you order me to protect you, I’ll get you out safe. Trust me.”

There was a hesitation, a moment where Master weighed the option of blindly following her against whatever he could come up with, but then it passed. “Okay, protect me.”

“Cloak, bag, sword. Put them on.” Khukri turned to Issac, pointing to the door. “Get out of here and bar the door behind you, otherwise they’ll know we had help.”

“I’ll take the same hunting trail in two days,” Issac said, quickly slipping out the door. “Come see me then. I’ll help if I can.”

Khukri knelt, retrieving the rope from under the bed before moving to the window and working the hatch open. As she secured the rope to the sturdy hatch, Master approached. His dark cloak draped over his shoulders and his new sword belt crossing his chest diagonally, leaving the blade to dangle at his hip. “Can I help?”

“Break the lamp under the bed,” Khukri said, securing the knot and giving it a firm tug. Satisfied, she opened the hatch and tossed the rest outside, staring down as it plummeted into the milky abyss of the night mist. A crash from behind caught her attention, and she turned to watch the mattress catch fire, sending tongues of hungry flames curling around the blankets as billowing smoke flooded the ceiling and fanned out across the room. Good, if they wanted his scent they could follow it straight to hell. “Out the window.”

Master hurried to the edge, stopping to look into the nothingness before Khukri set an urgent hand on his back, snapping him from his stupor. A few feet down, he became a blurry mess, and after a few feet more, he vanished. Khukri’s ears twitched, ignoring the intense heat on her back as she waited for the soft thump when Master hit the ground. Satisfied, she grabbed the rope and slid down herself, catching up to him at the bottom and flashing him a smile. “Good. This way, deeper into the ruins.”

She made it a few steps more before Master called to her. “Khukri?” He stumbled behind her, quickly going astray and jumping when she grabbed his shoulder. His head turned, eyes squinting as he brought them a foot from her face. “Khukri?”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

This wasn’t his fault. She’d spent so little time outside of the house with him these last two weeks she’d forgotten the many weaknesses his male body held. The mist was so thick she could only see two or three metres in any direction. If she hadn’t planned an escape route ahead of time, she wouldn’t know where to go, so how could she expect someone without night eyes to fare? “I’m with you Master. Hold my hand.”

“Thank you.” His fingers interlaced with hers as he shifted uncomfortably, drawing her eyes low. He shifted his weight as he stood in place, balancing on the strange male feet that held an extra fifth toe and an extended heel to make up for their terrible balance. Men weren’t designed to travel far from home, and he’d left his boots at the front door to avoid tracking in dirt. It was fine; once he got to the storage building, she’d take care of everything. There wouldn’t be any reason for him to leave.

Master set the pace as they ran through the ruins, moving between piles of rubble and half-built structures as she cut along to the edge of the district. Once Khukri got there, she stopped, placing his hand against the uneven stones. “This is the district wall. The stonework here wore down unevenly; there’s a path you can climb all the way to the top.”

Master sucked in a breath, running his fingers along the wall and finding the first handhold as he looked up. “That’s three stories tall.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t do it, even if I could see. I’ll fall.”

His back thumped against her as she leaned in, pushing him forward. “You can,” she growled. “We’re not safe here. They’ll find our trail. You go up first, I’ll be your eyes and tell you where the next rock is. Trust me.”

With his eyes firmly shut, Master sighed, grabbing the first rock and sliding his toes against a foothold before hauling himself up. Khukri stayed behind, coaxing him forward an inch at a time until he finally grabbed the top, rolling onto his back and letting out deep unsteady breaths.

She crouched over him, running a hand along his flushed cheek. “Good. Now I need you to stay close to me up here. We’ll go slow, just don’t step off the wall.” Up here, the mist was much thinner, allowing her to see massive shifting leaves outlined in moonlight far above. The leaves left a circle in the endless wash of shadows around the ruins, removing any hope of revealing the world to Master’s eyes unless the moon was directly overhead.

Khukri led him along the wall to the following district, then crouched, turning Master towards one side as she watched the shimmering water flowing slightly beneath the light carpet of twisting smoke. “Water here. Take a deep breath and jump.”

“I...” He hesitated, giving a determined nod before leaping into the water with a loud splash followed immediately by surfacing with a gasp and a curse. He kicked frantically, spinning in place. “K-Khukri!”

“Just go,” Khukri urged, diving off the wall. “I’ll guide you.”

When she surfaced, Master was already forging through the water as fast as he could. Khukri kept to his pace, swimming from one side to the other to nudge him in the right direction. He hadn’t made it halfway before he started to slow, forcing Khukri to push him forward, urging him faster as his strained male physique met its limits.

Once they were close enough, Khukri grabbed his cloak, hastily dragging him the last few metres and pulling him onto the wall. When his head exited the water, he gasped, twitching and showering her with droplets. Master was slowing far faster than she expected. She wouldn’t hold his natural weakness against him, but she’d been by his side while they worked the fields. This wasn’t like him; he wasn’t this weak before Via got her hands on him and Issac kept him in meetings for a fortnight. “We’re almost there, Master,” she assured, guiding his trembling hands to the ladder.

Water gushed from Master’s clothing, flowing down the wall as he clumsily fumbled onto the ladder and made his way down. He descended shakily, getting more than halfway before missing a step, slipping on the next rung, and vanishing into the mist. Khukri landed a moment later, breathing a sigh of relief as he stumbled upright.

“They won’t be able to follow us after that,” she said. “Let’s get to the storage building.”

Master blindly reached out, breathing heavily as she grabbed his wrist. “Khukri? I can’t take much more… I need… I need to get inside.”

Even as the thick clouds enveloped them, Khukri pushed forward, following the familiar edges of buildings as she guided Master home. Worry burrowed into her mind as Master slowed, stumbling and tripping on rocks he couldn’t see. It had to be Via’s doing, some wound that she gave him that didn’t heal properly, one he’d hidden from her, the stubborn idiot. When she pulled him from the last building into the street, she let out a disdainful sniff. Maybe she was right, maybe he couldn’t be trusted to protect himself. Maybe she needed to control him for his own good.

The wet cloth squelched as Master stumbled into her, unfocused eyes staring blankly up. “Khuk-mmh?”

Her hands clamped over his mouth as she pulled him close, fur standing on end and ears twitching. He went silent as she drew a blade with her other hand, desperately scanning the shifting, ghostly air before she drew another breath through her nose. “When I say run, “ she whispered, “you run. Don’t look back, understand?”

When he nodded, her hand dropped from his mouth, grabbing the hilt of her second blade, quietly sliding it free. For a moment, she waited, barely moving as her ears strained against the silence stretching in all directions, then a soft tap ten metres back. “Run!” Khukri shoved Master toward the storage building, whirling in time to catch a descending metre of curved claw with her knife.

Uncoordinated footsteps padded into the white void between her and the storage house as Master raced away. The claw retracted, but Khukri rushed sideways, intercepting the mist wraith as it tried to pursue him. “No.” Khukri lifted her blades, glaring up at the cloudy eyes and massive pointed teeth floating several feet above her. “He’s mine.”

The teeth angled down, opening as the beast let out a clicking hiss that shifted wildly in intensity, unintentionally mimicking a laugh as it floated back into nothingness. Soft thuds and small clicks echoed around her as the beast scurried through the mist, crossing buildings and dirt balanced on six spindly legs, each with a single curved claw.

Mist wraiths were considered The Direwood’s weakest major predator, and her pack killed plenty without difficulty. Their scales were akin to that of a fish, providing next to no protection, and their frame was light and thin, so even minor wounds could sever muscles or vital organs. They were valuable and easy to kill, so long as you stayed out of the mist.

One of the clicks sounded closer, giving Khukri enough time to narrowly roll away before a claw speared the dirt where she’d been. When she rose, she darted back after it, only for it to let out another hiss and vanish. Khukri’s eyes darted along the endless white, trying to remember what direction the storage building was in.

The next claw came faster than she expected, glancing off her blade and spearing her in the shoulder. Pain raced through her chest as the blow rocked her off her feet, sending her sprawling in the dirt several feet back. Instinctively she rolled, avoiding a follow-up that speared the ground she landed on before springing to her feet and swiping at the leg as it retracted into nothingness.

Mist wraiths weren’t invisible, just hard to see. Their organs and blood were transparent, giving them the appearance of a massive reedy skeleton running along on six spindly legs. They only preyed on a single target at a time, waiting for their previous meal to be fully digested before hunting again, lest their stomach give them away. So, if this thing killed her, at least Master was safe.

She absently brushed her aching shoulder, feeling the dented scale where the claw failed to puncture with a grimace. If she was wearing her leather instead of Master’s abyssal armour, that last exchange would’ve been the end. A fact that didn’t bode well for her chances in this fight.

The claw came again, and she turned it aside with one blade, only for the beast to retract before her other could land a blow. Then again, and again, attacks coming faster but with far less force, poking at her rather than trying to land a killing blow. She grunted as she darted back. It was learning. This beast likely never found a hunter stupid enough to venture into the mist, and now that its tactics for killing small beasts failed, it was playing with her. Using its size and reach, it could test her reflexes and learn how fast she could counterattack. Until Khukri found some move it wasn’t expecting, this wasn’t even a fight.

This time, the claw came slower than normal, giving her a chance to dart under it. A wild grin crossed her face as she charged the retreating claw, bringing her blades up as she readied for one-

A second claw came at her horizontally, smashing into her stomach and tearing across, releasing a sound like metal on stone as it raked her armour and violently shoved her back. Khukri staggered away, then dropped into a roll as she vaulted clear, only to realize that it hadn’t bothered to capitalize on its strike.

Normally, a mist wraith attacked with a single claw at a time, using the rest for balance and leverage to maximize the force of the killing blow. But, as the beast’s eyes and teeth emerged from the void, towering over her, she understood how little her expertise actually covered.

“Khukri!” Master screamed, causing both her and the beast to jerk toward the voice. “Get inside! Hurry!”

Her eyes widened as the beast let out its clicking laugh, wheeling about and sprinting away on all six claws. The idiot! Why couldn’t he just listen to her, damn it! He was safe! She did her goddamn job! “Master!” she screamed, tearing after the predator. “Master! Run!”

The doorway came into view, revealing the hazy figure of Master, backlit by a gaslamp and staring unaware at the death racing toward him.

Khukri screamed her incoherent fury and despair as the claw slammed into Master, punching clean through his chest with a wet pop and cracking bones. His head violently ripped from his body as the rest of him fell apart, scattered to the floor in a splattered mess.

The beast’s victorious hiss cut short as a rope zipped shut around its claw, yanking it off balance and pulling its arm through the entrance. For the first time, Khukri saw the whole of the thing, five claws bracing against the doorframe while the skeletal mass desperately bucked away from it. The head swung around, eyes focusing on Khukri as she tore forward, blades drawn and teeth bared for bloody retribution.

Its claws fell to the ground, folding its body so it could scurry through the entrance. Khukri came through a moment later, feet splashing through the ale barrel’s shattered remains and bounding over the discarded helmet as she closed the distance.

The mist wraith’s claws echoed through the empty space of the storage building as it fled, catching the railing and leaping toward the lower level. Halfway through the jump, the beast jerked upwards, its light body yanked away as the rope threaded through the upper railing went taught.

Khukri’s foot found the railing easily as she leapt into the confused, flailing beast, ripping through its spine with a vicious stroke of her blade before landing on the stone shelves below. Her head whipped about, frantically finding Master on the lower level, braced against a shelf with his legs as he held the rope with grit teeth and strained muscles, unable to see the corpse on the other end.

She breathed heavily as she jumped down next to him, folding him in her arms. “Thank Deianira...” she said, nerves still aflame. “I thought I’d lost you again.”

Master trembled in terror, massive pupils staring at the ceiling through unfocused eyes. “Khukri,” he mumbled, rope slipping from his fingers and slamming the beast into the floor below. “Khukri? Did I work? Did you safe?”

He kept shaking as he went limp, eyes rolling into his head. “Master?” she asked, shaking him slightly. “Master!”

When he didn’t respond she set him down, frantically tossing his cloak aside with a wet plop, then sniffed him. No blood. Whatever hurt him didn’t break the skin then. Perhaps he fell and broke something? She grit her teeth, cursing the dead beast as she checked for broken bones, but found nothing. He lay on the floor, taking fast, shallow breaths as he twitched.

A panicked grunt escaped her as she watched Master dying inches from her. Was he poisoned? When would he have been poisoned? “Master,” she begged. “Master, stay with me!” She pressed her fingers against his neck, feeling his weakening pulse under the crunch of his frozen fur.

Khukri took a sharp breath. It was her, she was killing him. Her hands fell to his chest, tearing his soaking shirt free before moving to his pants. Stupid fucking wolf! She told him to trust her, then dragged him into the wilderness and dropped him into a lake in the middle of the goddamn winter! She knew what the cold did to people, that’s why he brought a blanket to bed every night!

“I’m sorry Master,” she muttered, gently carrying him to their stores of straw and curling him into a ball. A moment later, she dragged his trunk over, dumping all his dry clothing onto his shivering form. She apologized repeatedly as she stripped off her armour, then shook any water she could from her fur before burrowing under his clothing and pressing against him, gently squeezing as she let him soak up as much warmth as she could offer.