Hey dad.

We’re safe in Varis now. Just met Melanie. It was a little tense. But I think you were right. It was good for me. I know she moved on without me, so in a way, I can move on without her, too.

Melanie gave us gold for supplies, so we’re going to restock on everything and stay at a fancy inn tonight. A bath is going to be amazing after sleeping in the dirt for so long.

Also, thanks for always being there for me. Being out on this quest has made me learn a lot, including what an amazing dad you are. You didn’t have to take care of me, but you did. Thanks.

Love you, dad.

-DJ

DJ folded up the note and handed it to the druid before he walked out.

The first thing the group did (after letting DJ write his ravenpost) was check into an inn and take baths. They each got their own room as a one-time treat—luxurious suites equipped with their own king-sized beds, baths, and stocks of treats. Once everyone was bathed and filled for the afternoon, they met in the polished marble lobby and set out on the town.

The shopping district wasn’t far from the main plaza—a long, wide street packed with busy shoppers and hawkers. The street’s edges were so tightly packed with upper-class boutiques that it was hard to find an affordable general store. It took them half an hour before they found a reasonable shop that let them replace their clothes and adventure packs. At a nearby bookstore, Riley found a new copy Light of the Star Path and DJ purchased a considerable tome of magic techniques covering beginning to advanced levels. He bought it without feeling embarrassed for the first time.

It was at the bookstore that Steve picked up a pamphlet that gave interesting facts about Varis. The most interesting was that a Temple of the Goddess resided at the very bottom of Varis Lake. Dwarven engineers had tried to create passage to it for centuries, but every attempt was soon destroyed by supernatural forces. The only way to reach it was through highly advanced magic or potions. Francis gave DJ a look. DJ smiled and averted his gaze.

Night descended on Varis and the city stirred with man-made light. Every street illuminated with torches and small glass orbs that radiated when the sky grew dark. Steve’s pamphlet said the light orbs were crafted by mages to glow when the sun went down. They needed to be magically recharged once per year.

Sounds like Varis is influenced by a lot magic, DJ thought. Maybe I could live here one day. He thought of Melanie and frowned. Actually, nevermind.

The inn food that evening was divine—they finest they had enjoyed in weeks. Roast duck, salted pork, seasoned greens, buttery sweet potatoes, smooth wine. They ate until they got their stomachs couldn’t take any more, then stumbled upstairs to their bedrooms and fell asleep wrapped in luxurious sheets.

DJ awoke the next morning to the sunrise tapping at his eyelids. He coasted in bed for nearly an hour then gave himself another bath just to enjoy the feeling. He dried himself off with a fluffy towel and put his new clothes on before he left his room and strolled to the next door—Riley’s room.

He gave three generous knocks on the door. “Heard you snore like a troll last night!”

In response, nothing.

He frowned a little. Another loud knock on the door. “Riley, you up yet?”

Still nothing.

This time, he banged his fist on the door. “Riley, come on!”

Silence.

DJ jiggled the handle. Locked. Gathering his strength, he stepped back, took a deep breath, and crashed his foot through the door. It hurt a lot more than he expected, but it broke the lock.

Riley’s room was in disarray. Bed sheets were strewn across the floor. The window dangled open. But her pack and bow were still untouched.

DJ thought he saw something small on her pillow, roughly the size of a coin. He stomped over to inspect it. He pinched it between his fingers and held it up.

A button. Like something from a vest or tunic.

The gnome. That stupid gnome and his stupid direcat. DJ clenched the button in his fist and hurled it across the room. He fled out of Riley’s quarters and sped down the hall, knocking on Steve and Francis’s rooms loudly.

“Steve! Francis! Wake up! Riley’s gone!”

Frantic rustling from inside their rooms as his companions shook awake and got dressed. All three of them entered Riley’s quarters. Steve looked all around in shock. Francis’s shoulders squared with anger, and he paced the room with hulking steps.

“Sir Percival Buttons,” the orc growled. “It has to be.”

“No doubt,” DJ said. “And now he’s got her in Varis. This city is miles wide! How in the Hundred Hells are we supposed to find her here? For all we know he’s already taken her west.”

“Or,” Francis countered, “the gnome will keep her here for a time, assuming we’ll go west to intercept them.”

“Do we talk to the authorities?” DJ said. “Are the guards in Varis worth anything?”

Francis shook his head. “An investigation could take weeks. That’s assuming they never leave the city.”

DJ kicked the discarded bed sheets and a fist grew in his chest. “So stupid! Why did we get separate rooms? We should have stayed together.”

A thick quiet fell upon them. But Steve popped up as if suddenly struck by inspiration. “Clairvoyance!”

Francis and DJ gave him confused looks.

“Steven, what are you talking about?” Francis said.

“Clairvoyance!” Steve yapped. “It is an advanced spell that will help us find Miss Riley!” His face brightened. “It will need supplies, but if she is still in the city, she will be within the spell’s range! But if they have already left…” he didn’t finish.

“Supplies?” DJ asked. “What kind of supplies?”

“Ingredients!” Steve hollered. “For a potion! I will create the potion, drink it, and cast the spell! We must find an alchemist or apothecary! They will have ingredients!”

DJ’s heart fluttered with hope. “There’s got to be an apothecary nearby, it’s Varis for crying out loud.” He held Steve’s face between his hands. “Steve, if this works, I could kiss you.”

Steve turned a little pink. “Oh my!”

“Let’s go,” DJ said. “I’ll throw Riley’s stuff in my room.”

So they did. They dashed down the stairs, fully geared. As they made a beeline through the lobby toward the main door, they slid to a halt in front of a bellhop—a smartly dressed goblin wearing a red uniform, bow tie, and glasses.

“We’re looking for potion ingredients,” DJ said hurriedly. “Where’s the closest place?”

“You’ll want Doctor Snipe’s Apothescary,” the goblin replied.

“Don’t you mean Apothecary?”

“No,” the goblin answered flatly. “Take a left, follow it to the intersection, then turn right. It’ll be the third shop on your right.”

DJ thanked him and the party sped away. Varis locals stared distastefully at the strange group dashing through the streets. It took only two minutes for the adventurers to arrive at their desination.

A wooden sign dangled above a door with a snake slithering around a skull and crossbones. Above the design, the words Doctor Snipe’s Apothescary were printed in sharp letters. Normally, DJ would have hesitated at such a spooky omen, but Riley was in need. That pushed him forward. He threw open the door.

Apothescary was right. There was hardly any light in the stony store, making it feel more like a dungeon. The bones of humans and various animals hanging on the walls only strengthened the ambiance. And the smell… it was hard to place, but it was something between onion juice, troll sweat, and cat piss. It made DJ’s eyes water. Francis frowned and Steve pulled his robes up over his nose.

“Welcome,” a voice drawled nearby.

The service counter was just ahead of them. Behind it, a thin, pale-skinned man stood with greasy black hair dangling to his eyes. He wore a black robe and his face gave the impression he hadn’t smiled in years.

“Hi,” DJ said shortly. “We need ingredients for a Clairvoyance Potion. You must be… Doctor Snipe?”

“Indeed,” Snipe said. His voice came out like a depressed, slow-moving animal. “A Clairvoyance Potion. You must be quite the mage.”

“He is,” DJ jabbed a thumb toward Steve. “I’m still learning. Do you have everything we need?”

“I have the finest selection of ingredients in Varis,” Snipe droned on. “Dried bat wings, pickled newts, thousand-year lavender, troll toejam… I have it all. But it all comes at a price.”

“How much? Name it. We’re kind of in a rush.”

Doctor Snipe let out petulant sigh before gliding around the shelves and picking off items. “For a Clairvoyance Potion, you’ll need eight frog legs, the eye of a leercat, a cup of fairy water, a glob of dragon mucus… and a dash of cinnamon for flavor.” He slammed all the ingredients on the counter. “Six hundred and thirty gold.”

DJ’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Inwardly, he cursed his pride for not taking more gold yesterday at Melanie’s mansion. Steve deflated and Francis muttered his displeasure.

“We don’t have that kind of gold,” DJ said. “Is there something else we can do? Anything? Seriously, this is kind of an emergency.”

The doctor’s eyes softened as he studied DJ’s features. It was like DJ’s question never reached his ears. After an uncomfortable pause, DJ cleared his throat.

“Uh, hey doc,” he said. “You okay?”

Snipe awoke from his daydream. “Please. Forgive me. It’s just that you… remind me of someone.”

DJ narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

“Miss Melanie of House Porter.” Snipe said the name as if it were honey on his lips. “Your eyes are like hers—emeralds against a pale fog. She was my friend as a child. But as the years grew, so did my feelings for her. Such grace. Such beauty. I wrote a letter for her long ago, expressing my true feelings, but I was too timid to deliver it. But I will always cherish the time we spent together. Always.”

A gross taste grew in DJ’s mouth as soon as Snipe mentioned her. He cleared his throat and said, “Listen man, she’s been married for like, ten years. And she’s… kind of awful. You should move on.”

“No!” Snipe slapped his hand on the table. “You do not know my heart! You do not know what it means to love so truly, so deeply! But still, my letter remains undelivered. So did I ever truly love her? Oh, Goddess!” Snipe buried his face in his arms.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

DJ tried not to grimace at the pitiful display. But then a thought crossed his mind. Hesitation only gripped him for a moment’s fraction. “Listen, I sort of have a connection with Melanie. What if… you gave us these ingredients at half the price if we deliver your letter?” Feeling like he needed to add more, he said, “Gold comes and goes, but that weight off your chest will last forever.”

Francis and Steve traded mildly surprised looks at DJ’s offer. Doctor Snipe studied DJ a little more, thinking, considering. The doctor narrowed his eyes, thought some more, then gave a resolute nod.

“Yes,” he conceded. “Yes, you’re right.”

He reached into his robe and pulled out a folded envelope sealed with black wax. It was yellow and crinkly from age, and had a couple of stains on it that had to be various ales.

“Additionally,” Snipe said. “Take this Proof of Delivery with you. She must sign it so I know it’s been delivered. Then bring it back to me. I know her signature well, so if you’re lying”—he scowled—“I’ll know. Do not disappoint me.”

Sheesh, this guy is obsessed, DJ thought. Regardless, he took the Proof of Delivery and the three of them left the Apothescary. The morning sun was blinding compared to the Apothescary’s dingy darkness. DJ shielded his eyes made a beeline for the Porter estate.

“That man needs some serious help,” Francis observed.

“Riley needs some serious help,” DJ responded. “And we’re one step closer to finding her.”

Soon they were at the Porter mansion—grand, majestic, surrounded by a beautiful courtyard. DJ stomped up to the main entrance, which was guarded by two soldiers.

“Hey,” he said, “I’ve got a letter delivery for Melanie. It needs her signature.”

A guard frowned at him. “You were here yesterday. We were told to keep our eye out for you. You’re not allowed in.”

DJ’s stomach fell. The guards tensed as they saw the friar and orc on either side of him. DJ tried to muster some gusto.

“Listen, this is really important,” he said. “This goes beyond whatever Melanie and I have. I need this letter delivered and a signature from her right now.”

Stoic silence from the guards. They stared down their noses at him. DJ thought of Riley tied up and hauled back to Beregond, then thought of himself punching these two guards. It felt like a satisfying course of action, but he knew picking a fight with two city guards was un-knightly behavior.

“Thanks for your help, boys,” DJ said snidely. “You’re doing great. I hope they put medals right there and right there.” He pointed at their chests, then saluted. “Keep up the good work!”

DJ stormed away, his friends following closely behind. He tried to formulate a plan in his head. Maybe they could sneak in? Or they could wait for Melanie to come out? But who knows how long that could take? By that time, Riley could be long—

Someone coughed nearby. Then again. They weren’t natural coughs—they were coughs of someone trying to get another person’s attention.

DJ looked around the source. It was coming from inside the courtyard. It didn’t take him long to spot Deirdre, his bratty little half-sister, eyeing him over the top of some shrubbery. Little blonde pigtails popped out the sides of her head. She cocked her head, motioning DJ to follow. Not sure what else to do, DJ obeyed. He walked in step with her until he turned a corner at the courtyard fence.

Deirdre poked her little face between a gap in the bars, examining him. From this spot in the fence, they were too far away to be heard by any of the guards. DJ got the impression that Deirdre had used this spot many times.

“You need to deliver that to my mom?” she asked.

“Yeah,” DJ said cautiously. “But I also need her signature. It’s important. It’s a lot to explain, but I really need her to sign this Proof of Delivery.”

Deirdre stayed quiet for a moment, then turned her nose up. “I can forge her signature for you.”

“You can?” DJ replied in disbelief.

“I do it all the time,” Deirdre said. “Mother and father never let me do anything. So whenever I need a parent’s signature to do something cool, I just…” she made a swishing motion with her fingers. “I can do that.”

DJ squinted. “What do you want?”

“What are you offering?”

He looked over his shoulder at Francis and Steve. Neither of them had answers. DJ gave a quick inventory of himself, thinking of anything that a child like Deirdre might want. Then it struck him.

“I bet your mom would never let you have this.” DJ unbuckled the utility knife from his belt. Nothing special, just a basic single-edged knife with an oak handle and iron blade, made for small tasks like cutting rope or skinning animals.

But it was enough. A weapon—a treasure from the world of adventure. Deirdre’s eyes widened with desire and she lunged for it. DJ pulled it back.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he said. “Signature first.”

Deirdre frowned. “How do I know you’ll hold up your end?”

“I’m a Knight of Beregond. I’m honor-bound.”

DJ extended her the Proof of Delivery and the letter. Deirdre snatched it and scrawled a quick signature, then she handed back the Proof. DJ gave her the knife. Her face radiated with delight as her finger traced the edge.

“Be careful with it,” DJ admonished. “It’s not a toy.”

“What do you care?” Deirdre raised an eyebrow. “You’re never going to see me again.”

Well, you are kind of my sister, DJ thought. So I guess I care a little bit. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.” He paused. “Thanks for this.”

He got up to leave, but before they could get too far, Deirdre said, “You’re my brother, aren’t you?”

DJ stopped. He looked over his shoulder at her. He almost confirmed it, but the reason he had clothes on his back now was because of a certain payment the day before. That kept his mouth shut.

“She probably paid you to stay quiet,” Deirdre said. “You don’t have to say anything. The look on your face is enough.” She blinked. “You look just like her.”

DJ squinted, but gave a little smile. “You’re a smart kid, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Deirdre smiled. “Good luck with whatever. Bye.”

She disappeared into the courtyard and the others ventured back to the Apothescary. DJ couldn’t help but smile. Who knew he would like his mischievous half-sister more than his own mother? It was nice to have at least one friendly face in Varis.

When they made it back to the Apothescary, DJ and the others held their breath while Doctor Snipe inspected the Proof of Delivery. They hoped beyond hope that Deirdre's forgery was a good one. The lonely old alchemist welled with tears when he saw it, so it must have been close enough.

The party took the ingredients back to Steve’s room, where he used a small table as a makeshift alchemy station. They needed something important of Riley’s for the potion to work, so Francis cut out a sliver of wood from her bow. As Steve stirred, the potion let out puffs of gas that smelled like rotten eggs.

At last, Steve held the green, murky mixture up to his uneven eyes. “Behold! The Clairvoyance Potion!”

DJ pinched his nose as he spoke. “Steve, you’re brave for drinking that.”

“For Miss Riley, it must be done!” Steve hollered. He held the glass higher. “A toast to friendship and the Goddess above!”

He downed it. Seconds later, he doubled over like he had been punched in the stomach. Francis knelt down and put his hand on Steve’s back. Steve twitched and shuddered and groaned. His back stretched out like a cat’s—something was traveling from his stomach to his mouth.

It happened. Steve ripped a belch that made the whole room vibrate. DJ caught a whiff of his breath and coughed, fanning the smell away.

Steve jumped upright and patted his belly like nothing had happened. “Much better! Now then!” He planted his feet and swished his arms all about as he muttered a long phrase in magetongue. As he did, his hands and eyes glowed bright blue. He finished by squatting and clapping his hands together in front of his chest.

Francis and DJ waited. Then Steve straightened out, hiked up his pack, and pointed. “Away we go!”

The friar jogged out of the room and his friends followed. DJ tried to catch what Steve was looking at as they flew down the steps.

“Wait,” he said, “how do you know where to go? Do you see something?”

“A pink sparkle moves just before my path!” Steve yelped. “It always stays a few paces ahead! It will guide us!”

“Be ready for anything,” Francis warned. “The gnome and his direcat could be expecting us.”

DJ flexed his fingers, thinking of spells and cantrips. He also made sure his sword was strapped tightly to his waist.

They left the inn and traveled down the street. Steve’s pots and pans jangled with every step. They must have ran a mile before the sparkle led them to a shabby-looking building near the southeast gate of Varis. In this part of town, farther away from the lake’s shore, things weren’t as sparkly and beautiful. Uneven streets were made from mismatched stones and hasty mortar. Some buildings had boarded-up windows. Long gone were the clean folks with colorful garbs glistening in the sun. Here, there were knots of hardened, scarred, calloused adventurers carrying weathered weapons and bitten armor.

DJ made eye contact with one as he passed. They bore their teeth and growled at him. He gulped.

“Be on your guard,” Francis said lowly, clutching his ax.

Steve turned around and put his fingers to his lips before he pointed at a nearby building. The three of them crept up to it slowly, trying to be discreet, but not look sneaky. As they drew closer, they heard voices inside.

“Forget it. I don’t want to play.”

Riley. DJ recognized her voice and his heart leapt.

“Come now, we’ll be on the road together for weeks! You don’t want to be tied the whole way, do you?”

There he was. That stupid accent that DJ couldn’t place. It was Buttons alright. That meant his direcat had to be closeby, too.

“Pick better games then!” Riley sounded more annoyed than distressed. “I don’t want to play Three Witches and a Frog. It’s for little kids.”

The party could tell the sound was coming from the building’s basement. An open window let the sound drift onto the street. The three of them walked around at a safe distance in case Buttons was watching the windows.

“It’s a game of strategy and cunning!” Buttons insisted. “Hardly a game for children, I would say!” The direcat let out a meow. “Yes, Mittens, I agree!”

The party found a staircase leading down to a basement door. They armed themselves—sword, ax, and frying pan. When crept to the bottom of the stairs, DJ reached for the handle.

“Young knight,” Francis whispered, “don’t be hasty.”

“What kind of plan could we even make?” DJ hissed. “We just rush in and catch him unawares!”

“I don’t believe that’s—”

DJ wasn’t listening. He flung the door open. “Found you, you little twerp!” he shouted as he busted in.

He didn’t see it. A large drawing on the ground—a circle marked with shapes and runes. As soon as DJ stepped on it, it burst with a fiery pulse that flung him across the room. He slammed against against a wall and fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. His ears rang and his sword clambered next to him.

Through blurry vision, he didn’t see much. Francis stormed into the room, roaring. The direcat leapt for him, scratching and clawing his arms. Francis pulled the cat off and flung it against a wall. Mittens hit the wall with a thud and fell into a mess of boxes, but scrambled to get back on its paws.

Riley ducked for cover. Buttons darted from his post with surprising agility. Steve threw a series of cantrips at the gnome, but kept missing. The gnome raised a dagger and lunged for him. But with a twist and an errant swing, Steve batted him away with his frying pan. A satisfying clang filled the room as Buttons rolled across the floor.

DJ’s vision was returning, but his leg seared with pain. He tried to stand, but any movement sent bolts of agony to his ankle. As soon as he saw it, he knew it was broken. Stepped on a magical rune. He cursed himself for his stupidity.

Francis threw Mittens off him again. The orc was covered in deep cuts from sharp claws. As the direcat righted itself, it noticed DJ. Easier prey. Mittens snarled, baring its fangs. Fear washed over DJ and he struggled for his sword. His hand wrapped around the hilt just as the direcat leaped for him.

A blind swipe—a successful one. DJ’s blade ripped across Mitten’s belly. The direcat startled backward, let out weak meow, then fell onto its side. Its eyes grew glassy.

“Mittens!” Buttons cried.

The fight stopped immediately. Francis and Steve huffed and puffed as they stood covered in scrapes. Riley got to her feet. And just a yard away, DJ watched as Sir Percival Buttons slid to his knees, watching his direcat rapidly lose blood.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the gnome consoled. “You’re going to be alright.” He fumbled for a vial on his belt—a bright red liquid. He uncorked it and held up Mitten’s mouth as he poured it in. The direcat resisted, but swallowed. The bleeding slowed and the gnome put pressure on it.

Sir Percival Buttons spoke through his teeth. “You have won again this day. Take her and leave.”

No one moved. They just stared.

“Leave!” Buttons commanded.

Francis bent down and scooped up DJ like a child. DJ gritted his teeth and clutched his bloodstained sword. Riley and Steve scurried close behind. They closed the door as they climbed up the stairs to ground level.

Rain clouds gathered in the sky, turning everything gray. Slowly, a soft trickle of cold water fell to the cobblestones, making tiny rivers at their feet. The people of Varis retreated to nearby shelter. Steve struggled to keep his hands over DJ’s leg and mumble Healing Hand. DJ’s leg mended. It was no longer broken, but he knew it would be tender for days, just like his arm. Francis let him down, and DJ limped along with them.

“I hate that gnome and his stupid cat,” DJ glanced at his sword, which was still stained with blood. “He kidnapped you, and here I am feeling sorry for him.”

Riley stared at the ground as she spoke. “I feel sorry for him.”

Everyone turned to her, waiting for an explanation. She kept her eyes on the wet cobblestones.

“He made some mistakes back home,” she said. “They won’t let him back to his village until he does a noble deed. This is his noble deed—taking me back to my father.” She paused. “The gold doesn’t matter to him. He’s trying to do the right thing. And I get it. He just wants to go home.”

Francis clenched his jaw and his eyes grew dark. DJ’s heart pricked again. He glowered and tried to force the feeling down. He didn’t want to feel guilty about defeating another knight. But as he thought about it, he realized Buttons’s mission was even more noble than his own, and that made a storm cloud gather in his chest.

He let the rain fall, clearing the blood from his sword.