Metterlich eyed the border town warily as they rode inside, passing the loose cordon of soldiery that continued to patrol the village entrance wordlessly.

"You're finally here."

Such direct address caught him by surprise for a moment, and drew the attention of the entire group. The young lady addressing them strode out into the open, her boots padding softly on the paved roadway. Almost immediately, Metterlich sensed something amiss. His sixth struggled to find her, slipping through the murky shadow of her mind as if it was scarcely there, the ghost of a thought in the place of a person. He grimaced in consternation, eliciting a raucous laugh from the girl as she noticed the reaction, as if she knew precisely what he was thinking. In turn, his frown deepened at the sight of the sharp fangs lining her mouth. She smiled, a wolfish grin in more ways than one.

"Ah, Eris, you're here," Katarina said with a slight smile.

Hubert glared venomously at the young woman, the black rage that clouded the man seeming to intensify as he sighted her, his hand sliding to the long cavalry saber at his hip. Klober and the dragoons were silent, their wariness and suspicion mirroring the young wizard's own feelings.

"I see the quarry has escaped," Katarina commented simply.

"I drew blood, but he was quick to react, a lot quicker than I had expected," the woman grinned, raising a hastily bandaged arm, "Got me with a pistol."

She lisped heavily, as if every word she spoke were unnatural and difficult for her.

"Impressive," the witch nodded.

"What do you have of the man?" Hubert said bluntly, his tone irritated.

"His scent. His appearance. His armament," the creature called Eris snickered, "What does your grumpy little heart desire?"

In spite of himself, Metterlich could feel a slight smile stretching across his face at the girl's snarky remark.

Hubert glared murderously at her, but said nothing.

"He's well built, blonde like your midlanders," she said simply, "Moves very quickly and knows how to ride well. A cavalryman if I were to guess."

"That's hardly helpful," Hubert said bitterly, "Half the members of the Malthorian order were ex-soldiery."

"He should also have a limp after the chunk I tore out of his leg," the woman chuckled.

As she drew close enough to stand alongside the horses, Metterlich realized she was shorter than he had first guessed, yet it did nothing to mitigate the unease caused by her jagged teeth, or the talons protruding from her fingertips. He stared blatantly, scrutinizing and trying to make sense of the girl. Her yellow eyes glanced across him, pupils little more than pinpoints in the afternoon sun. It was a devilish look, and he averted his gaze. He had read of many beasts and monsters that took a humanlike form, and whatever she was, he suspected it wasn't pleasant.

"Which way did he go?" Katarina asked, diverting Eris' attention.

"I haven't much clue. I lost him at the river," the girl shrugged.

"We'll have to see what the local authorities can do for us then, it's little more than a day's ride to Loseine, he can't have gone far," the witch said.

"Hold for a moment," Hubert interjected, his glare shifting between Katarina and Eris with distaste, "What of the weapon, you mentioned you knew it as if it had some significance."

"I'm not sure," the girl said, "But his pistol was odd. It fired quickly, like a- pepperbox? But only had one barrel."

"Was there a cylinder?" the inquisitor pressed.

Metterlich watched on curiously, wondering where the line of questioning would lead.

"I'm not sure," the creature shrugged once more, "Too busy not getting my head shot off. Next time i will stand still and watch.”

The scathing sarcasm made Hubert's frown deepen, his beard twitching with agitation.

"What about a lever?" he said bluntly, attempting to ignore the jibe.

"No lever, none that I saw," she shook her head.

"Sounds like a high-end piece," he said finally, "A revolving repeater I'd wager."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Metterlich interrupted.

"It's a rare weapon. Difficult to make. Expensive. Just like that rifle of his. I only ever knew two men to own one and both got it from the same source," Klober said abruptly, “Reisman.”

"Do we search for its maker then?" the young wizard asked.

"No," Katarina said bluntly, "The trail is still warm. We have his heading. Diverting now would be an immense waste of time."

"It would still be valuable to confirm who we are looking for. We've fallen behind," Hubert frowned, "He could be headed anywhere and we have nothing to go off of."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"We can double back if need be. Some obscure armorer isn't going to go away just because we aren't around," the witch shook her head impatiently, "We cross the border. Ride like hell and catch the bastard. Alive."

The group went silent. Hubert mulled his words, even as the others gazed on with piqued interest. The verbal spats over course of action had been a mainstay of the short trip from Brachsenburg. Katarina had the nominal authority, they all knew, but it meant little to the cantankerous inquisitor.

"There was no talk of bringing him back alive, why must it be so?" Hubert asked suspiciously.

"To stand trial. He must hang for his crimes, yes, but there must be a trial. Let the people see that justice is done," she said coolly.

Eris shivered and convulsed as laughter wracked her body.

Hubert snorted derisively, "Justice is done, huh? It'll be done when the man is dead. How doesn't matter."

"He will be apprehended, alive," the witch said decisively, "I will broach no debate on this matter, inquisitor."

The man glared at her but said nothing, urging his horse past Eris and making his way toward the border bridge. The woman glanced at him with a wry smile of amusement on her face as he disappeared past the buildings.

"He is very angry," she laughed and turned back to Katarina.

"Come here," the witch said impatiently, "Did you fish out the bullet?"

"Right here," the woman raised the small silver projectile against the sun.

"Not a mage killer. You would expect he'd have loaded one, can't imagine he doesn't expect a pursuit to include mages, must not have the ammunition to use," she said flatly, dismissing the sliver with a flick of her hand, "Give me your arm."

Eris shrugged and complied.

The old witch ran a hand over the injury, removing the bloody bandage and drawing a scowl of pain from the woman. Her arm was a swollen mess, the exposed musculature red and inflamed where the bullet had struck.

"Nothing too bad," she commented wryly.

Metterlich was not sure he could agree with that assessment.

Magic crackled in the sixth, drawing Metterlichs attention to the fact that Katarina was channeling the wyrd. Flesh sizzled and writhed as it reknit with terrifying alacrity. Eris let out a sharp hiss of pain then went silent.

"Done," Katarina said simply, as if she had done nothing at all.

"Thanks," Eris said, nodding appreciatively at the spotless stretch of skin that had replaced the wound.

"Now let's go, we don't have the entire day," the witch said, urging her horse onward in Hubert's wake, "Klober, let's get a move on."

Metterlich watched warily and brought up the rear, riding close to Eris as he moved onward.

"You must be Metterlich," she addressed him directly before letting out a soft chuckle, "Katarina mentioned she planned to take you afield, probably didn't plan to do so this soon though."

He hesitated, unsure of how to respond. The woman ignored him, turning and letting out a piercing whistle. On cue, a small chestnut horse trotted into view, laden with saddle bags and equipment.

"So, was Katarina lying, or are you really as naive as she makes you out to be?" she asked innocently, blinking her big yellow eyes at him. Metterlich opened his mouth to respond, then clamped it shut. The gleam of mischievous humor in her gaze was unmistakable. At the sight of his hesitation, she grinned broadly, mouth drawn taut in an exaggerated grimace.

The young wizard stayed silent, riding past the strange woman with ill-disguised haste.

"Come on now, don't be such a sourpuss," Eris laughed loudly, leading her horse on foot.

"I don't really know what you expect me to say," he said helplessly.

"Something more impressive than that for sure," she snorted.

"Well-," Metterlich hesitated once more, trying to come up with a witty retort, "Too bad."

Eris arched an eyebrow at him, disbelief in her eyes.

"You don't spend much time in the field, do you?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head.

He tried not to hold her gaze too long, the large yellow eyes set against an all too human face disturbed him.

"What is it you normally do?" she asked.

"Study, a lot," he said, not deigning to glance back.

"Study what?" she pressed.

"Why are you so interested in me?" the young wizard asked suspiciously.

"Just curious," she said innocently, "Is that not allowed?"

Metterlich wondered if he was being unfairly rude, but felt as if the creature was toying with him. There was an air of mischievous intent that surrounded her, and he didn't like it.

"I'm a learner, learning how everything works. Spells of destruction and mending. Runic magic. Traps and locks sealed by magical means,” he indulged the creature's question, "Books on theory by the greats, Danimila, Verian, Staub."

"Ressigen too I assume?" Eris asked, taking him by surprise.

"Yeah, Ressigen as well," he said, surprised by her sudden input.

“He's one of the found- foundational four, it's only sensible,” the woman laughed, “No doubt exciting.”

“I wish I could say so. Seeing dusty old tomes about magical theory and application sounds interesting until you actually have to read through it all," he smiled slightly, “Magic tends to get a bit mundane after a while, strange as that sounds.”

“Oh it can,” the young woman nodded in simple agreement, her tone strangely pleasant when unmarked by bitter sarcasm.

"Been working for Madam Romme long, eh?" he asked finally.

"A few years. I've picked up a bit here and there," Eris shrugged, “She sometimes explains things to me. How everything functions, or is supposed to.”

Metterlich nodded in acknowledgment, mulling the notion that his teacher had been consorting with this woman for so long.

"She never mentioned you," he said abruptly, "Not until a few days ago at any rate."

"Can you blame her?" Eris laughed loudly.

Metterlich could not say he did, and so he made no response.

"I wasn't supposed to be here, we were just supposed to meet Orrin at Brachsenburg," the wizard sighed.

"Seems that worked out splendidly!" Eris announced gleefully, the biting edge of acrimony once more tainting her tone.

Metterlich frowned at her intently, "Orrin Skye was murdered."

"Yes he was," Eris grimaced, then shrugged her shoulders, "And?"

He blinked once, twice, expression rigid, his good humor gone as swiftly as it had begun to arrive.

"You could show some more empathy," he said.

The woman let out a bark of laughter, pearlescent teeth flashing in the sun.

"He had it coming," she shrugged.

The young wizard shuddered and turned away. Her casual manner toward the situation was jarring, the callous dismissal of Orrin's murder even more so.

"Come on, do you really think Katarina is unhappy the man's dead?" she rolled her eyes, "Only ones who might be a bit shaken are you and that officer.”

“Murder is still murder. It is no laughing matter,” the young man's face contorted ever more severely.

The broad smile never left Eris' face as he said that, the expression never quite reaching her eyes. He couldn't read her, the woman's mind little more than a wisp in the wyrd, and it irked him.

“Heh,” the woman snorted in laughter, “Your teacher wasn't lying.”

“Huh?” Metterlich raised a brow, confused.

Eris' sharp-toothed grin never faltered as she met his gaze, those haunting yellow eyes sending a shiver down the young man's spine, “Nothing, Met, nothing.”