The Influence Heist

It was a beautiful summer day in Vyrinios. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and McKenzie was up on the newly-created rooftop terrace bar of the Assassins Guild, plotting a bit of light genocide with a friend.

The Guild Hall, as befitted the lair of a shadowy group of underworld badasses, hunkered down in the gap between two more imposing, noticeable buildings, but that was OK: McKenzie had paid a wizard to install an enchanted mirror on the roofs of his two light-blocking neighbours, which tracked the sun and reflected it down. He’d only been in charge of the Guild for a few weeks, but he already had his priorities straight. Jadhara had given him A Look, and a few of his fellow assassins had muttered that it wasn’t in keeping with the Guild’s generally grimdark gothy aesthetic, but fuck it: when it was a nice day you didn’t want to be indoors, and if he had to be the boss then, well, he could be fucking bossy once in a while.

“If what you say is true,” the Archmage Xixaxa said, sipping her drink, “then what you are proposing is tantamount to the destruction of an entire race. This is no light undertaking, McKenzie. We must consider if we have the right.”

McKenzie briefly looked upwards and jiggled his head briefly from side to side. “Yep, okay, considered it. Yes we do, let’s kill some fucking trolls.”

“It is not just some trolls,” the Archmage said. She placed her drink down on the table in front of her, and looked McKenzie directly in the eye. “You are effectively pronouncing a death sentence on all trolls.”

“Two points,” McKenzie said, taking a drink from the bottle of beer he held. “One: okay, yeah, maybe I am. Two: I am totally 100% okay with a death sentence on all trolls, fuck ‘em.”

Xixaxa sighed. “That is just one point, simply said twice in different ways.”

“Well, I feel very strongly about this,” McKenzie shrugged.

“Such a level of murderous violence will have repercussions, McKenzie. There are troll gods – they will not look favourably upon the destruction of their flock.”

“Fuck them too,” McKenzie shrugged again. “There’s only one god that I know of that actually manifests and does shit on this plane, and you’ve pulled his teeth. We can deal with them if they come looking for payback.”

“Your faith in me is pleasing, but I do urge you not to lightly court divine displeasure. They will not knock on your door demanding a fight, gods are rarely so unsubtle,” Xixaxa said.

“What, even troll gods? Trolls don’t really do subtle, as far as I’ve noticed, and that’s me talking,” McKenzie replied.

“You seem, for some reason, to be envisioning the troll gods as simply more powerful versions of actual trolls. That is not, I can assure you, the case. A troll is a troll, a god is a god,” Xixaxa informed him.

“Okay, it’s duly noted as a drawback. You’re the expert on magical jiggery-pokery. Will my idea work, is what I want to know,” McKenzie finished his beer and asked.

Xixaxa pondered for a moment. “I believe it has merit,” she finally said. “It will require careful planning and even more careful execution, though. You won’t be able to just charge in swinging a sword and bash your way through this, McKenzie. You’re going to have to be a bit more clever than that.”

McKenzie nodded and looked, for a moment, slightly pained. “Yeah, I had this same conversation with Danandra and she said the same thing, only, y’know, way more sarcastically. But I get it – I’m not a natural planner. This is new ground for me. That’s why I called you, Xixaxa. I really need your,” he paused, “creative high-level project management expertise.”

“Did you memorise that specially?” Xixaxa asked gently.

“I did. Looked it up online,” McKenzie confirmed.

“It sounds ridiculous, but thank you for making the effort. This may be a moot point anyway: the location of the troll homeland is their most closely guarded secret. There are indications, in fact, that it may be magically impossible for trolls to divulge this information. Are you certain that Leni did not lie?” Xixaxa asked, then, noting McKenzie’s frown, added: “Moot means it may not be relevant any more because of a change in circumstances.”

“Okay, thanks, for that. And yeah, I’m absolutely 100% certain that Leni did not lie,” McKenzie assured her.

“How are you so certain?” Xixaxa pressed. “Threats may not suffice to extract this information from someone who is, despite appearances, still a troll at heart. Do not forget that the modifications I made to our former master’s curse preclude you from intentionally ending her life.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I checked she wasn’t talking bollocks.”

“How?”

McKenzie grinned. “Let me explain.”

- o O o -

Two Days Earlier

“Refill?” McKenzie asked Leni.

“S’pose,” Leni said sourly.

Leni, it was fair to say, had gone through a big change recently. Until a few weeks ago, she had been a huge, towering, predatory troll warrior whose hobbies included eating people, eating people and eating people: her particular favourite being elfmaids, and her particular particular favourite being her (enforced, up until recently) companion Danandra, who, for curse-related reasons, wasn’t in a position to do anything about Leni’s frequent attempts to make a meal of her.

Now, Leni was a tiny, petite elfmaid whose hobbies included drinking, sulking and cowering in the Assassin’s Guild. She was afraid, in equal parts, of trolls – who all held views on elfmaids largely in line with Leni’s former convictions on the subject – and Danandra, who was no longer prevented from giving Leni an extremely hard time if she decided she felt like it (and she always did). Danandra excelled at two things: magic and holding grudges. Leni was therefore avoiding her as much as possible.

McKenzie topped up her glass with more Vyrinian firewater, and then sloshed some into his own glass and took a large swallow. They were in a large - and largely deserted - inn situated in a shabby part of town. It had very tall, wide doors and half the tables were oversized, something Leni had not yet noticed. She’d been slightly drunk even before McKenzie had insisted she actually leave her room in the Guild – these days she was always slightly drunk, having chosen to cope with her change in circumstances by self-medicating with alcohol.

There were few other customers, which wasn’t surprising: anyone (apart from McKenzie) making use of the human-sized tables was taking their life in their hands in this particular establishment. The current clientele was limited to a shabbily-dressed, very drunk man attempting to flirt with a pretty, but equally shabbily-dressed woman in one corner and a black-robed, hooded musician playing a crude flute in another corner. It was actually a pretty good tune: at present a wistful, mournful air sounded through the common room. This was being appreciated by precisely nobody – the only other living being was the bartender, a young, spotty boy who looked terrified.

“You know what your problem is?” McKenzie asked Leni. Outside, it was sounding five bells in the afternoon.

“Yes, you asshole,” Leni replied, drinking. “I’m fucking food now. Food that likes dressing like this.”

She indicated the loose, brightly-coloured dress she was wearing. “I woke up this morning and decided ‘y’know what, today I feel like wearing a flower print dress and sandals. Flower print, McKenzie! I’m a goddamn troll meal wrapped up in fucking flower print!”

“Not for much longer,” McKenzie shrugged.

“I think the penchant for pretty, floaty dresses is here to stay, un-fucking-fortunately,” Leni scowled. “Xixaxa really did a number on me, I’m not even me any more.”

“I meant the being food thing. No more trolls equals no more problem for you.”

“So you say,” Leni replied. “I held up my end of the bargain – information in exchange for protection. Dragging me out to some shithole bar doesn’t feel like I’m being particularly well protected.”

McKenzie grunted. “You needed to get out – it’s not healthy, sitting in a room drinking, FYI.”

“Fuck you,” Leni replied succintly, her accusatory tone somewhat lessened by the fact that her voice was now light, musical and altogether girlishly charming. “You would totally do nothing else apart from sit on your ass and drink if you could.”

She slumped in her seat, then put her head in her hands.

“No I wouldn’t, I also like to go out and hit people,” McKenzie protested.

“Yeah, so did I once upon a time,” Leni remarked with a snort, then finished her firewater. McKenzie filled her glass again, and his, since he’d also finished it. Best stuff he’d drank in ages.

“And then eat them,” he added.

Leni shrugged. “It’s what people are for – and now that includes me.”

“Yep,” McKenzie said, “which brings us back around to your problem. You’re one of us now, but Xixaxa wasn’t as much of a B-I-T-C-H about it as she could’ve been. You got the deluxe package: elf lifespan, astonishingly pretty, all the right lady curves in all the right places, blonde curls, all of that. People spend ages trying to look like you do.”

“Are you hitting on me? Is that what this is? That was a one-time offer, I was in a bad place,” Leni scoffed.

“No, that is not what this is,” McKenzie said, with an internal wince. Ew. Elf-Leni, viewed objectively, was the very model of hotness: but behind all that lurked the evil, psychotic mind of a troll.

“Then why are you being nice to me?” Leni asked suspiciously.

“Got bored being a dick,” McKenzie lied.

“The fuck you did,” Leni snorted.

“Didn’t expect you to believe that, TBQHWY,” McKenzie allowed.

“Can you stop that? It’s fuckin’ irritating.”

“What is?”

“Spellin’ shit out to me,” Leni clarified. She frowned, leaned back in her chair, looked uncomfortable, and drank more.

“Whatevs,” McKenzie said. “My point, if I can fucking get to it, is you are seeing this” – he indicated her new appearance with a vague wave in her direction – “as a demotion. It’s not. It’s an upgrade. Own it.”

“No, I will not fucking ‘own it’, McKenzie,” Leni said, “whateverthefuck that even means. You know why Xixaxa made me look like this as well as I do, and it wasn’t out of the goodness of her heart: she turned me into the fucking epitome of a snackable elfmaid. Know why I stay in your weird, fucked up talking building? Because if I go outside, trolls can smell me from streets away and trust me, they are very interested.”

“More like obsessed, there’s a dozen rewards out,” McKenzie told her. “I think the current top offer is a thousand gold imperials, some rich troll merchant. Didn’t even know you guys did any merching, I thought you were more just hit things and roar type creatures.”

“Speciesist,” Leni accused him.

“Says the woman who gave up the location of the holy sacred troll city the minute it was her arse in danger of being munched,” McKenzie snorted.

“If you were trying to manage some kinda pep talk, McKenzie, you’re severely fucking it up,” Leni told him.

McKenzie snorted. “Fine, fuck it, I tried. This is more of a double-checking, dotting T's and crossing I's type conversation anyway, Len. Pretty soon, your former lot are not gonna be welcome anywhere, ‘cept on a fire or in a deep hole with a spear through their fucking face. That’s a big thing for a troll – even an ex-troll – to enable. I need to know you’re on the level. Rumour has it that trolls can’t even speak about it without exploding on the spot or something.”

Leni gave a snort of bitter laughter. “Yeah, not quite. Wanna know what the actual penalty is?”

“Hit me,” McKenzie said.

Leni leaned over the table and swung a clumsy, open-handed blow at McKenzie’s face, which connected with a suspiciously loud and meaty noise. McKenzie swore and rocked sideways, then rubbed his cheek and laughed. “S’pose I walked into that. You been working out in voluntary solitary confinement? Pretty strong slap round the chops, for a munchkin.”

Leni ignored that, scowled, and collapsed back into her seat. “You become food,” Leni said, in a small voice.

“What now again?”

“The penalty, dipshit. The curse we suffer if we tell anyone about home, or shit, even if we don’t tell anyone, but fail to do our utmost to keep the secret. You become food,” Leni repeated. “Every troll will hunt you to the ends of the earth. The troll that catches you and eats you is rewarded beyond their wildest dreams in the troll afterlife. That thousand gold isn’t just because someone fancies newly-transformed elf for lunch, asshole. They know.”

McKenzie nodded. “I figured,” he said.

“Did you fuck,” Leni snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, okay – Danandra figured,” McKenzie admitted.

“Whatever,” Leni said, and finished her drink. “I’ve told you where to go, what to expect. I wasn’t lying. Go and do your thing.”

- o O o -

“You got her drunk and asked?” The Archmage asked, looking at McKenzie with a raised eyebrow. “This was your masterstroke of manipulation?”

"No, this was the lead up,” McKenzie answered.

“Very well,” Xixaxa said. “Finish your story. I trust there is more to it?”

“Oh, yeah, it gets better. I did subtle,” McKenzie grinned.

“In half a millenium of life, I have only been surprised seven times,” Xixaxa said. “The counter may be about to reach the dizzying heights of eight, if what you say is true. Pray continue.”

- o O o -

“OK,” McKenzie nodded, checking his watch. “Total murderisation of all trolls is definitely gonna happen. First, though, you might be wondering why I chose this place.”

“Not really, just figured you were cheap,” Leni indicated the firewater, which wasn’t an expensive one. This place didn’t do the pricy kind. Then again, this bottle hadn’t come from here.

“I fucking am not,” McKenzie protested. “It’s kind of a...working lunch, I suppose.”

“Lunch? It’s five bells, there’s no food, and all we’ve done is drink,” Leni corrected him.

“Not quite. We’re working,” McKenzie said. “This is a capital-A Appointment.”

“I’m not, not one of your ash, assassins, McKenzie,” Leni told him, slurring her words slightly.

“Nope,” McKenzie agreed. “You’re bait.”

“Wait, what?”

“Look around, Leni. This is a troll bar. There are big chairs and tables. The bartender looks fuckin’ petrified, as well he should, because he’s the fifth one this year. The patrons keep eating them,” McKenzie explained.

“You brought me to a fucking troll bar?” Leni went wide-eyed and worried-looking. Even though he knew her past and had spent months trying to shoot her, McKenzie couldn’t help but feel a sudden pang of sympathy. Xixaxa had wrought well, the new Leni was almost unbearably cute – the slightest expression of distress was enough to make McKenzie’s irksome damsel-rescuey instincts flare up.

“A thousand gold imperials, Leni,” McKenzie said instead. “I’m an assassin, now. I kill people for money, and that’s a lot of money. In this case, I don’t even have to do that. Just have to do nothing while one of your former buddies does the job for me.”

“I’m getting the fuck out of here, now,” Leni said.

She put her hands on the table and made to get up – but didn’t.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” McKenzie said, tapping the bottle.

“I can’t move!” Leni looked in horror at her glass. “But you’ve been drinking it too!”

“Yeah – good shit, this,” McKenzie swirled the cheap liquor in his glass and finished it. “Caramel undertones, and are those notes of cherry I can detect? No, wait, that’s just the paralysing enchantments woven into it. Danandra says hi, by the way.”

“So you’re unaffected,” Leni’s face fell.

“Wouldn’t say unaffected,” McKenzie shook his head. “It’s making me all tingly. I’ll have to get a few bottles in for the First Assassin’s personal wine and spirit storing room thing.”

“Cellar,” Leni corrected him heavily. “Also, it’s High Assassin. Even I know that.” As she spoke, the drunk-flirtee in the corner shook her head and sighed.

“Well, Slightly Tiddled Assassin, maybe. I have just caned a third of a bottle of almost-but-not-quite-whisky,” McKenzie shrugged.

“So this is Danandra’s payback. Is she here, to watch me get eaten?” Leni asked, dramatically.

The black-robed flute player stopped playing for a moment and gave Leni a wave, and then a very rude gesture.

Leni sighed. “Cally too?”

“Nah, she wasn’t into the idea. Said it was “unnecessarily spiteful and cruel” – you know how she gets,” McKenzie informed her in a dour tone, doing air quotes. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing, the expression on your face right now is just perfect. Anyway, showtime soon. It was nice knowing you, Leni. Well, actually, I don’t want the last thing I tell you to be a lie. It wasn’t, it was fuckin’ awful and I wish I’d never met you.”

“You are just the worst, do you know that?” Leni told him. “The actual worst human alive. No competition.”

McKenzie grinned. “And it doesn’t even take practice.” A shadow blocked out the sunlight at the inn’s door. “Right, we’re on – your job is to act like a terrified elfmaid who’s been kidnapped, drugged and about to be eaten by a vengeful troll. Think you can manage that?”

Leni scowled. “Yeah, I’ll try and achieve some level of realism with that, you total prick. I can’t believe you would d- err werr urrrr…” The ex-troll’s voice trailed off into slurring.

“And there’s the useful side effects,” McKenzie laughed. The inn doors opened.

A troll walked through them, preceded and followed by two pairs of human security. Quite why he’d bothered with them was anyone’s guess – this particular troll was so huge that he had to duck in order to use the troll-dimensioned entrance. He wore custom-made leather armour and carried a large, gold-studded mace at his belt and a sack over his shoulder. Two of his security remained at his side as he made his way to McKenzie and Leni – the other two stayed by the door. They were all kitted out with chainmail, swords, shortbows and wore calm, alert expressions: mercenaries, and probably good ones.

“Tuesday,” the troll rumbled at McKenzie, after looking round the bar. McKenzie was a firm believer in sticking to a system for generating false identities.

“Verus,” he replied.

Verus leant down to put his face next to Leni, who was unable to react in any way save a horrified expression, and inhaled through his nose, breathing in her scent. From such a large creature, this produced enough localised turbulence to ruffle her hair.

“Well I never,” he said. “You actually found her. The whole troll population of Vyrinios is after her, you know – but you have delivered her to me.”

“What can I say, mate, I get results,” McKenzie shrugged. “I ask this in the spirit of good customer service – she’s definitely your traitor?” McKenzie asked.

Verus ran a huge finger up Leni’s jawline in a curious gesture, then licked it. Leni whimpered, wide-eyed.

“Ah, the deeply satisfying taste of a heretic,” Verus confirmed. “This is her. I am impressed, Tuesday.”

- o O o -

“Eight,” Xixaxa confirmed.

“Seriously?”

Xixaxa nodded. McKenzie laughed and raised his glass to her.

“Finding another troll to verify that Leni had, indeed, betrayed her people. Very clever. Subtle, in fact. It was Danandra’s idea, though, was it not?” Xixaxa asked.

“Well, she might’ve had some creative input,” McKenzie admitted.

“I thought as much. I am still pleasantly surprised that you went through with it, though. You truly are growing as a person,” Xixaxa returned the gesture with her own glass.

“Means a lot coming from you, Xixxy mate,” McKenzie replied.

“What transpired next, my friend?” Xixaxa asked.

“Genuinely?” McKenzie replied. “It did not go the way I expected.”

- o O o -

“Why is she so quiet and docile?” Verus asked.

“Drugged,” McKenzie replied. “Can’t speak, can’t move.”

“Excellent thinking! She will tell no others. Where was she hiding?”

“Trade secrets, Verus,” McKenzie said.

“Fair enough,” Verus nodded. “Do you know who she has told that which cannot be known?”

“That which cannot be what now?” McKenzie frowned.

“I cannot speak of it directly,” Verus stated. “But she will have told someone something, a dark, evil, shameful admission.”

“Oh, that. Yeah. One person only,” McKenzie replied. “I know where he can be found at all times.”

“Where?” Verus asked.

“Very close,” McKenzie smiled.

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“Excellent,” Verus nodded, then abruptly changed tone. “Know what, I’m not gonna bother with the sack. Can’t put this off.” Verus cracked his jaw. “You might want to look away for this bit,” he advised McKenzie.

“Hang on a minute there, Verus,” McKenzie raised a finger. “Small matter of payment, first – and remember, she’s drugged. You don’t want that in your system. I’d give it an hour or so first.”

Verus paused with his mouth halfway open, then shrugged. “Fair enough.”

The troll opened the sack, reached down to Leni and grabbed her around the midsection, making her give vent to a sudden squeal of terror. Verus deposited her in the sack, tied it up with a few practised motions, and laid it down on the floor. “I prefer lunch to be a bit livelier anyway,” he commented.

“Each to his own,” McKenzie shrugged, for all the world as if he literally couldn’t care less if Leni ended today in her own bed or in Verus (not, to be fair, a million miles away from the truth). “Now – a deal’s a deal…?”

Verus grunted, and motioned one of his guards over. The guard reached into a pouch and drew forth a small, unassuming bracelet. It was brass, quite plain and – from McKenzie’s point of view – hummed with a minor amount of magical power.

“Payment as agreed,” Verus – who was a dealer in magical items – stated. “Quite why you want that instead of a thousand gold, though, I don’t know. Uniquities are two-a-penny, any decent mage can knock up a set for you at a fraction of the price you could get for her,” Verus indicated the sack, which was now bulging with Leni.

“It’s proof,” McKenzie told him.

“Of what?” Verus looked confused.

“That you killed my Client’s son,” McKenzie stated, taking the bracelet and standing up. “Okay, take the guards out.”

Several things then proceeded to happen very quickly. It was impossible to tell which, of the people in the room, moved first.

The drunk man – Anjarong, also known as Curveknife – sent a dart whooshing from a blowpipe into the guard by the table. Jadhara – with whom Anjarong had been ‘flirting’ - cast a small dagger across the room to ever-so-slightly graze another one’s neck. They both slumped to the floor.

The flautist in the other corner – who was indeed Danandra - abruptly disappeared, reappeared standing between the two guards and the door, laid a hand on their shoulders and then disappeared again in a puff of darkness, taking them with her. She rematerialised moments later, with her hood drawn back and a wicked grin on her face.

“I hope they like exercise. If they run, they might get here in time for last orders,” Danandra said with a wicked, self-satisfied smirk.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be okay,” McKenzie told Verus, finishing his drink. “It’s bad form to off the hired help, if you can avoid it.”

The bartender, with a crash of crockery, dropped the flagon he was cleaning and immediately fled. Nobody stopped him.

“You’ve been listening, Crowbar,” Jadhara said. “I’m almost impressed, well done.”

“She’s always like that, just ignore her,” McKenzie advised Verus.

Verus, to his credit, did not appear to panic, instead looking around and taking everything in. Surrounded by assassins, he must know he was unlikely to survive a confrontation.

“Well, I’m still alive,” he said slowly, regarding his comatose, half-strength security team. “I assume that means some sort of Arrangement is on the table? You are Guild assassins, I take it?”

“Check out the big brain on Verus,” McKenzie said, smirking. “You nailed it, Verus, well done: but this is the new improved Assassins Guild. We don’t do the whole stabbing people in the back thing, anymore. It’s so five minutes ago. So this is the deal: you killed-” McKenzie stopped to look at his hand, where he’d written a name – “Deri-, Dervi-, Dervarius De Sell-, De Serl-, De-”

“Dervarius De Cerlester?” Verus chipped in. “He should have given me what he owed me. I took payment in a different coin, the coin of-”

“Yeah, you ‘et him, we know. But thanks for the pronunciation help, it’s so nice that – and I was only saying this last week, Curveknife’ll tell you – that people, y’know, get involved and contribute to their Appointments. I just hate it when it’s one-sided, you know? Anyway, his mum wants you dead. Dervy Surly’s mum, that is, not Curveknife’s.”

“But?” Verus nudged.

“But what?” McKenzie looked confused.

“You said there was a deal?”

“Did I? Danna, did I mention a deal?” McKenzie asked.

“You did,” Danandra confirmed. “Can we get on with the troll murdering, please? I have a date.”

“Hold your horses, Danna. You won’t be late, you can just blip yourself to Talius,” McKenzie said.

Danandra sighed. “I need to get ready first,” she said.

McKenzie frowned. “You’ve moved in together, D. You can just go as you are, it’s not like he’s gonna see anything that’ll surprise him.”

“And that attitude is why I have a date tonight and you don’t,” Danandra replied, somewhat waspishly.

McKenzie winced. “Ouch.”

“High Assassin, if we could move this along?” Jadhara hinted.

“See what I mean?” McKenzie asked Verus, who looked very confused. “I’m the boss. There was a vote and everything, but honestly, it mostly feels like she’s in charge.”

Verus frowned. “Which one?”

McKenzie snorted. “Fair comment. Fuck it, pick a she at random, to be honest, most days I feels like I’m taking orders from any of them.”

“Random? One of the ‘shes’ happens to be the one chairing the meetings, signing the documents and managing the biggest change in the history of the Guild while the nominal leadership pursues solo side projects,” Jadhara remarked. “Which she is also helping with, on her own time. Right now, in fact.”

McKenzie smiled at her. “And the nominal leadership is very grateful and owes you one, Nightwing. And you, Curveknife. And you too, Danna. Cheers guys.”

McKenzie turned back to Verus. The troll’s hand was inching towards his mace.

“Anyway, the deal. It’s this: you can go,” he told him.

“What?” Verus asked. His hand stopped.

“You can go. Off you fuck,” McKenzie clarified.

“Our business here is done?” Verus asked, looking (again) confused.

“Christ on a bike, what’s difficult to comprehend or open to interpretation about ‘fuck off’? Yeah, we’re done. What can I say, normally we’d be getting into it, swinging maces and punches left right and centre and generally kicking the shit out of each other in a fair fight, well, I say a fair fight, fair enough, anyway, as long as I can stand in front of the Guild Ethics Committee – yeah, we have ethics now – and keep a straight face, but-” McKenzie said.

“High Assassin! This year, please,” Jadhara interjected.

McKenzie held his hands up, then did a zipping gesture across his mouth.

“And I can...take her?” Verus pointed toward the sack, which was now twitching slightly and giving vent to muffled cursing.

McKenzie laughed. “I’d love to say yes. Love to. But no,” he answered. “Also: it’s me.”

“It’s you what?”

McKenzie’s demeanour flipped from jovial to intent. “I know,” he told Verus. “It’s me. She told me.”

Verus’ eyes widened as he realised his situation.

“Aaand the penny drops,” McKenzie stated. “Feel free to go, but, if my knowledge of curse theory is correct-”

“Your knowledge?” Danandra interrupted in astonishment – angry astonishment, this was Danandra after all.

“OK, your knowledge: which says this,” McKenzie looked into Verus’ eyes. “You can’t go without taking her and killing me, or you’re a traitor too,” McKenzie stated. “And you ain’t doin’ neither.”

“Double negative,” Jadhara interjected. “Triple, I think.”

“Shush, Poshblades,” McKenzie said. “I’m workin’ here.”

Even as he spoke, his magical sixth sense started to tingle, as if a new presence had entered the inn. At first he thought Danandra was building to a spell, but it lacked her signature, and in any case she was quiet and still, merely watching proceedings with a delighted smile: despite the persiflage between them, she was enjoying this immensely.

No – this was something else.

“Is anyone doing anything magicky?” McKenzie asked. Everyone shook their heads.

He’d planned on this, or at least hoped – but it was good to have confirmation.

Then Verus cursed, and doubled over as if in agony. “What have you done?” He roared.

- o O o -

“You weakened him with the logic of the troll gods’ curse, thus making him easy to assassinate,” Xixaxa said. “Nine times, McKenzie. I am really quite proud of you.”

“Yeah, that was the plan…” McKenzie said, with a wince.

- o O o -

At first it wasn’t apparent – Verus was a sizeable troll, and he was jerking around. The troll fell to his knees, and then stood up again.

And he was shorter.

“Well, someone’s coming down in the world,” McKenzie quipped.

Verus wasn’t finished yet, though. With a snarl, he ripped his mace from his belt and swung it at McKenzie. McKenzie caught it, but Verus still had his strength, it seemed: McKenzie was yanked off his feet by the force of the swing.

He clung on with both arms, though, resulting in Verus being pulled off his own feet by the momentum of the swing and the added inertia of McKenzie’s weight. They both tumbled to the floor, smashing a table and causing a sudden squeal from Leni in her sack. They struggled to wrest the mace from each other’s grip, headbutting. Verus tried to bite: McKenzie grabbed at his throat to prevent him. The troll let go of the mace with one hand, and turned it into a fist to rain blows on McKenzie.

Danandra wandered over to Jadhara and Anjarong. “He hasn’t gained any actual fighting skills, since becoming an assassin, then?” She asked, somewhat mournfully.

Jadhara shook her head. “Sadly, no. It’s like watching someone trying to chop down a tree with a hammer: it’ll fall down eventually, but in the meantime it’s very embarrassing to witness someone pigheadedly ignoring well-intentioned advice about axes.”

“I heard that Nightwing!” McKenzie called, from the brawl on the floor.

“He’s got the names thing down, though,” Danandra remarked.

Jadhara nodded. “We should count our blessings, I suppose.”

“Everyone’s a bloody-” McKenzie started, then paused to do something reasonably complex with his legs which flipped him upright. He continued the motion: his feet gouged holes in the wooden floor, gaining purchase, and then he threw Verus across the common room to thump into the stone fireplace with a bone-jarring crunch.

“Critic,” McKenzie finished, and clicked his neck. He’d come out of that holding the mace, which was huge compared to him. Neverthless, he hefted it and started towards the fireplace.

Jadhara applauded – only semi-sarcastically. “Well done, High Assassin. You remembered lesson one!”

McKenzie chose to ignore that. “Sorry, Verus,” he said. “You’re out of time. Keep still and I’ll make this quick and clea-”

McKenzie, along with everyone else, turned around at a sudden ripping noise. Leni stood up from the ruins of the sack, and she looked furious.

“You asshole!” She accused McKenzie. “You made me think you were gonna let him eat me!”

McKenzie smirked. “Sue me,” he said.

“You evil, spiteful, conniving fucking demon!” Leni drew herself up to her full height of maybe five feet, in her flowery sundress and delicate sandals. She was aiming for a snarl, but it still sounded just pretty. “Dammit, I can’t even insult people properly anymore!”

“Maybe not, but I’m putting ‘evil, spiteful, conniving fucking demon’ on my business cards. You just can’t buy marketing copy like that.”

“The Appointee is still alive, High Assassin,” Jadhara hinted.

Verus was indeed still alive – he got to his feet and, seeing both of his problems standing lined up in front of him – he charged. He was still nine feet tall and enormous.

McKenzie turned, yelped out a surprised ‘fuck!’, and ducked sideways.

Leni did not. It seemed she’d forgotten she was now a small, petite elfmaid. With a charmingly fierce high-pitched growl that had all the terrifying intensity of a puppy playing with a ball, she grabbed a large, troll-sized table-

-and swung it directly into Verus’ face, without any undue effort.

The impact was crushing. Leni’s feet, much like McKenzie’s just had, were forced into the floor with a splintering crack. The table shattered into planks. Verus toppled backwards and hit the floor with a thump.

“Oh-kay,” McKenzie said. “Um, Danna? Was that in the script?”

Danandra shook her head.

Leni looked at her hands, picked up a chair, and broke it in two: then laughed both delightedly and delightfully. “Know what, McKenzie, you were right. I did need to get out.”

Verus was blinking, and slowly trying to roll onto his front.

“High Assassin, if we can perhaps deal with the Appointment first and consider this new development later?” Jadhara said.

“Uh, yeah,” McKenzie said, unsure of himself. He raised the mace, stepped forward to Verus, and brought it down.

Leni caught it in one hand, stopping it easily. “Just a minute there, hero,” she said.

“He’s not leaving here alive,” McKenzie told her.

“Oh, definitely not,” Leni said, leaning over Verus.

“You’ve failed,” she told the troll. “You can’t kill him. You can’t even kill me. Right now, you should be able to feel the shame coursing through you. Making you weak. Making you small. Small enough to be prey.”

McKenzie could feel it – the troll’s traitor-curse was speeding up as Verus lost any hope that he could recover the situation. He was shrinking faster – already he was merely the size of a normal human. It was really, really strange to watch.

Verus moaned in a very un-troll-like way. “No!” He said. “You’re not, you’re not one of us anymore!”

“Hmm, beg to differ, big guy,” Leni said, dripping with sarcasm.

Verus tried to get up. Leni grabbed him by the collar, walked a couple of paces to the wall, and slammed him against it. She looked down – her sandals were hanging in ruined tatters from her ankles, having been ripped apart by the splintered flooring: her feet were unharmed. “Gods-dammit I liked those!”

“High Assassin, we should-” Jadhara started.

Danandra held up a hand, though. “Wait,” she said. “See how this plays out.”

Jadhara, it seemed, was happy to listen to an expert. “Very well, learned mage.”

“Please, Nightwing, we’re friends. Danna is fine,” Danandra said.

Despite everything going on, McKenzie found a moment to be surprised at that. Danandra had changed almost as much as Leni.

“I mean I let him call me Danna,” she said, indicating McKenzie. “It would be really strange if I didn’t extend the same privileges to someone who I actually respect.”

Not changed that much then.

Verus, meanwhile, was now being held up off the floor by a little slip of an elf, albeit one who seemed to still possess the strength of the troll she’d used to be. He tried to fight back, kicking and punching. Leni slammed him once against the wall: with a groan of pain, he was still.

“Please,” he said. “Spare me.”

Leni ignored him, instead turning around to look at the others. “Well, not gonna lie, this is the best I’ve felt in ages. I take it all back, McKenzie – you actually do know how to make someone accept themselves as a person.”

“McKenzie, if this situation ends up with Leni actually happy instead of terrified and paranoid, I’m blaming you,” Danandra said, with a flat, unhappy look.

“Yeah, no, wait, not what I was aiming for. This was 100% a cruel joke, you’re supposed to feel bad about yourself,” McKenzie agreed, backpedalling madly.

“Well, I’m not going to. Not anymore,” Leni replied. “So, this asshole ‘et someone?”

“Well duh,” McKenzie told her. “He’s a fuckin’ troll.”

“And he was about to eat me,” Leni added.

“Yes – not the most pleasant feeling in the world, is it?” Danandra told her, with extreme snippiness.

“No,” Leni agreed. “It isn’t. It fucking sucks. In fact, I’m…” Leni trailed off, frowning at the floor, as if she was struggling with a particularly difficult equation on the very first day of a crash-course in algebra.

“Danandra...I think I’m...sorry?” Leni finally said. “For what I did to you. I’m sorry. It was…” she tailed off again, then: “It was wrong.”

Danandra gasped. “How dare you apologise to me!”

“I know!” Leni replied, and McKenzie was amazed to see there were actually tears in her eyes. “I already feel bad about myself again and it’s only been like five seconds! This is weird, a moment ago I was really happy and now I’ve got this crushing, horrible, choking feeling that everything is just wrong and bad and terrible and it’s my fault!”

“What you are describing,” Jadhara supplied, “is called guilt.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Leni snapped. “How do I make it go away?”

“You could show me some mercy!” Verus suggested hurriedly.

“Nope,” Leni said, and thumped him against the wall again. “Next idea?”

McKenzie shrugged. “Get drunk, maybe sleep with a randomer. Repeat dosage as necessary until symptoms stop.”

Jadhara put her hand over her face. Even Anjarong, usually the inscrutable sort, looked faintly embarrassed.

“Not helpful, McKenzie,” Danandra growled at him. “This is Leni, she’s evil, and she is not going to expiate the burden of a lifetime of predatory troll behaviour with cheap alcohol and casual sex with strangers!”

“Wait, will that work?” Leni asked.

“No, it will not!” Danandra

“I’ve had a few successes with it over the years,” McKenzie said, tilting his hand from side to side.

“Okay, say I did that – and to be fair it does sound kinda fun. Then if it worked, I would feel better. But I have this strange thought that if I make myself feel better, then Danandra will feel worse because I feel better, and I don’t want Danandra to feel bad because of me anymore,” Leni said slowly, working it out as she went along, it sounded.

“Yes!” Danandra said brightly. “Yes, well done. I can only be happy as long as you are miserable. Or dead. I’ll settle for dead. Look, I have a knife right here you can borrow – do the right thing, make me happy,” Danandra drew a small dagger from her robes and offered it to Leni.

Everyone stopped to look at her.

“In a room containing only hardened killers, you have somehow managed to freak everyone out a bit, Danna,” McKenzie noted. “I’m honestly impressed, this is a level of vindictiveness even I’ve never managed to reach, and fuck it I’ve been practicing.”

Danandra looked at everyone. Everyone was looking at her with slightly wide eyes. She put the dagger away. “Yes, very well, I’m fully aware that does not make me sound like a very nice person. In my defence, I am dealing with severe anger issues towards Violentia,” she explained, looking, to her credit, slightly ashamed.

“It’s okay, Danandra,” Leni said. “You get to feel that way. You’re entitled to your anger. What I did was...ugh.” She shivered, hard enough to rattle Verus against the wall and provoke a tiny squeak of pain from him.

“I’m confused,” McKenzie admitted. “Verus, was that like a magic therapy sack you put her in?”

“A magic therapy sack?” Verus croaked.

“Never mind,” McKenzie shook his head. “Look, Leni – I can see you are evidently going through some kind of important personal process right now, but I’m kind of on the clock here and Verus needs to no longer be alive, so…?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” Leni said absently, then casually shifted her grip to Verus’ head and gave it a quick, efficient twist. With a dull crack, Verus collapsed to the floor.

“Whoa!” McKenzie said, shocked. “Not what I meant!”

Leni looked down at the corpse, then up again. “Maybe not, but y’know, I actually do feel a bit better? The world is minus one troll – this is a positive outcome, no?”

“Um,” McKenzie said. “I’ll be honest, I do not know what to do or say right now.”

“I’ve got it!” Leni said.

“Got what?” McKenzie asked.

“I killed a troll. I felt better. So, I’m gonna kill every troll I can find until I don’t feel guilty any more, and Danandra will be happy because she likes it when trolls are dead too! Danna – how many do I need to kill before you’re cool with me again?”

Danandra shot Leni, then McKenzie, a very cool look. “I have a date,” she snapped, then disappeared in her usual, effortless way, leaving only a pervading chill behind her. McKenzie wasn’t sure if that was a side-effect of the magic, or simply her mood.

“I mean, even a rough idea?” Leni called out into mid-air. “Are we talking, like, double or triple digits?”

There was, of course, no reply. Leni sighed. “Emotions are hard,” she concluded. “I’m getting drunk. Can I get you guys anything?”

With that, she headed to the bar, kicking off the remains of her sandals as she went.

“Well, all things considered I think that went quite well,” McKenzie offered.

Jadhara just stared at him.

- o O o -

“Oh dear,” the Archmage remarked.

“That’s putting it mildly,” McKenzie replied.

“Has she spoken to you since?” Xixaxa asked.

“Yeah, hasn’t shut up,” McKenzie said resignedly. “’McKenzie, can we go find some trolls to kill? McKenzie, can I borrow a really big bow from the armoury? McKenzie, I broke this sword off in a troll’s ribcage, can I have another one please?’ It’s never-bloody-ending right now, like a really enthusiastic puppy following me around, only covered in troll blood,” he sighed.

The rooftop bar had two entrances – a shimmering one floating in mid-air which Xixaxa had created, through which her office in Melindron was visible, and a more normal door opening onto a staircase. As if on cue, Leni’s voice floated up through the latter.

“McKenzie, I ran out of arrows again! The city watch won’t give them back after they pull them out of dead trolls, they want to like arrest me or something?”

“See?” McKenzie said to Xixaxa, with a martyred look. “I feel like Victor bloody Frankenstein, and I’m billing you for all the stuff she’s nabbed out of the armoury, as well as the sixteen pairs of shoes and twenty-eight different flowery dresses she’s bought.”

“I can but sympathise, and to be scrupulously fair, I suppose this is my doing. The curse protects us from our former master, so I could not alter it to permit too much harm – evidently it found a way to balance what I did to her. The strength of her former physique is now simply concentrated into a smaller form,” Xixaxa said. “That said, I was not actually referring to Violentia?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, Nightwing actually took it quite well, once the initial surprise had faded,” McKenzie said.

“To be completely clear, I was referring to Lady Danandra,” Xixaxa clarified, with a slight upward roll of her eyes.

“Danandra. Okay. Her. Yeah, I think I’ve got quite a long period of the silent treatment coming to me. I asked Talius how she was doing and if I should go and talk to her and he just winced,” McKenzie supplied.

“Give her time. A pile of troll corpses slaughtered in her name may actually win her over. This is, after all, Lady Danandra we are talking about,” Xixaxa said understandingly.

“That’s what I’m hoping, Your Wisdom,” Leni interjected, coming through the door bearing three drinks on a tray. She was wearing a new pair of sandals, and a floaty, light blue dress that had only minor amounts of troll-spatter on it.

“Lady Violentia,” Xixaxa greeted her cordially, taking a drink from the tray. “I hear that you are finally settling into your new life.”

Leni beamed. “Totally – I owe you one. I feel like a new woman, which basically I am, now. Beer, McKenzie?”

“Why the fuck not?” McKenzie said heavily, taking it from the tray, leaving Leni with a glass of water: she’d stopped drinking, having found a new addiction in the form of troll-slaughtering. “What’s the total now then?”

“Eighteen,” Leni said, looking pleased with herself. She sat down in a vacant seat.

“And two hundred and seventy five gold imperials in bribes to the city guards, so far, to look the other way,” McKenzie muttered sourly. “It’s on this week’s invoice,” he added, to Xixaxa.

“Hey!” Leni protested. “Don’t be a tightarse – this is for our friend.”

“Leni, for the umpteenth time, you can’t make people like you just by killing trolls,” McKenzie explained.

Leni gave a dismissive snort. “Bullshit – seven different people have all told me variations on ‘thank you, you’re amazing, you slew the evil troll that was about to eat me!’ It’s seriously life-affirming!”

“Trust me, the shine wears off after a few centuries,” McKenzie informed her flatly.

“And one really cute guy was very grateful last night,” Leni added, with a smirk.

“In only two days, you have killed eighteen trolls, saving eight people in the process, and found time for clothes shopping and a date?” Xixaxa asked.

“Pah, those are rookie numbers in this game,” McKenzie grunted sourly.

Leni ignored that, and looked upwards while she thought. “Yeah, that’s about the size of it. I love my new hobby. Also, I wouldn’t call it a date, ‘zactly. More of a frantic but very satisfying encoun-”

“Information I do not need,” McKenzie hurriedly interrupted. Leni laughed, once again an effortlessly charming noise.

“The finding trolls part isn’t even difficult,” Leni added. “They come to me, then they’re all like ‘haha bitch you smell nice prepare to be eaten’ and I’m all ‘nope look here’s a big knife and swish your guts are on the ground how’re you gonna eat me now asshole!’” She laughed again. “I’m in such a good place right now, and it’s all down to you two. I love you guys so much.”

“Not okay with that,” McKenzie said warningly. “We are not friends. There is no sudden change in my attitude, here, Leni. A monster killing monsters is still a monster. We are not ‘you guys’ to you.”

“You’re so grumpy!” Leni laughed, poking McKenzie in the arm. He scowled.

“A monster that kills monsters,” Xixaxa remarked, “is also an asset.”

“I’ll take it,” Leni said, raising her glass in a toast to her.

“She could be very useful,” Xixaxa told McKenzie.

“No,” McKenzie immediately said.

Leni’s eyes went wide in hopeful delight. “Wait, does this mean I can come? ‘Cos that would be brilliant.”

“No, it does not,” McKenzie said immediately, then turned back to the Archmage. “I’ve already had this conversation with her, Xixaxa, and the answer was a very categoric-definitical nope. All the nope. All of it.”

“There is a Danandra-shaped hole in your plan, McKenzie,” Xixaxa told McKenzie. “Leni, here, may fill it admirably.”

McKenzie shot Xixaxa a helpless look. “Why. Why are you doing this to me Xixxy? I thought we were friends.”

“And I thought you wanted my ‘creative high-level project management expertise’,” Xixaxa returned, with what certainly seemed be be a smirk.

“It’s, like, mega risky,” McKenzie turned back to Leni, trying to dissuade her. “Almost certain death by troll risky. Let me take care of the wholesale slaughter, you can carry on with the retail, personal-touch boutique version. You’re good at that. It’s your new hobby. Come with me and you’re gonna get killed.”

“Well, then you’ll be rid of me forever, and maybe Danandra will be happy,” Leni replied.

That stopped McKenzie in his tracks. She was evidently trying to achieve some sort of light-hearted laugh-in-the-face-of-danger vibe, but beneath that, even McKenzie could detect undertones of hurt.

“I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” he finally said, after a few moments.

“Yay!” Leni laughed, and did a little seat-dance of joy. It was, of course, ridiculously cute.

McKenzie sighed.

“Tell me the plan again, High Assassin,” Xixaxa said. “Let us see if we can make some tweaks.”