“Who are you?” I asked.
The ear-ringed man looked at me, his face falling into despair. I scratched my cheek awkwardly. Had I met this guy? If I had known he could throw fireballs, he’d already be on quick dial, or whatever the magic equivalent was.
“Are you serious?” He asked.
I nodded my head.
“We met. At the scroll shop.” His face flushed red somewhat. Wait, that was the guy who touched my hand! Was he stalking me? I looked between him and Sylvia. Which one of these freaks was worse?
“Oh, sorry… I’ve been stabbed since then.”
He resolutely turned his face back to Sylvia, raising a flaming hand. Sylvia looked like she’d stumbled into a groom cheating on his fiancée in a stairwell. She raised her newly-manifested sword towards Gale. “Give me the Hero.”
Gale looked up at her, smiling through his pain. “I’m a taken man.”
Her lips twitched. “I’ll enjoy burying you.” She rushed forwards, ignoring everything but him. The black-haired man stepped in front, sending a wave of fire towards her. Sylvia cut through it, clothes singeing as she did. Gale and I staggered to our feet as she was delayed.
Gale raised his sword, arms shaking. I let him lean a bit of his weight on me. He was this tired even after being healed? I bit my lip. We stood no chance here. We’d lost against her before she started using her magic— and where the hell was Mira?
Sylvia and the black-haired man exchanged a few moves, with him avoiding her swings, and her clicking her tongue as she grew increasingly covered in soot. He backed up, stepping next to Gale and me. Sylvia faced off against the three of us, analyzing the situation.
“I’m Draven,” He said, “Nice to meet you again.”
“I’m Aria, this is Gale. Are we fucked?”
“Probably.”
“Definitely,” Gale said.
I grimaced. “What do we do?”
Draven shot a sideways glance at me. “Do you know who we’re fighting?”
“Sylvia?”
He laughed. “Do you know who Sylvia is?”
I shook my head. He gave a painful smile. “She’s the most infamous assassin in the capital. She’s never failed a job. Not one time.”
I looked at Sylvia. Damn, I hated to admit it but… she was so cool. Why couldn’t I have reincarnated with lightning-sword powers? I guess I had shadow magic now, but I had no clue what I could do with it.
“So, what do we do?” I asked.
Sylvia looked like she’d bit a lemon. “Are you actually planning right in front of me?”
Draven smiled at me. “We either hide somewhere in the city or bury your friend.”
Gale frowned. “How do you plan on getting us away from her in the first place?”
“Seriously, I can hear you.”
“Just one second, please,” I said, looking towards Sylvia. Her face twisted again.
“This,” Draven said, pulling something from a pouch on his hip. He spread it in the air, before blowing it towards Sylvia. A smoke cloud bloomed in the air, surrounding the entire area, obscuring our vision. I used Alter Sight on myself for heat vision. I saw Sylvia’s blob stagger backwards, looking at her clothes.
“You’re fucking dead Draven!” She shouted.
I grabbed Gale’s hand and we booked it towards the exit. I heard swinging behind us. Was she trying to clear the smoke? We rushed from the doors, Draven ahead of us, sprinting down the steps two at a time. I released Alter Sight when we exited the smoke.
Mira stood at the bottom of the steps, her spear buried in the chest of the butler she’d been fighting. His body lay sprawled on the ground, covered in blood. She had been standing there, unmoving, and looked up at our approach. What the hell? I mentally noted to have a talk with her later about this.
The three of us leapt from the stairs to the ground, and Draven took off in one direction, shouting, “This way!”
Gale and I looked at Mira, our run slowing, but she simply smiled at us, and matched our pace. “I apologize for the delay.”
We sprinted after Draven. Where was he going? I looked at Mira as we ran. “What happened?”
She shook her head. “Family issues. I will explain later.”
We passed around a corner when the sound of a thunder-clap accompanied the crash of a door exploding. I looked backwards, suddenly glad we’d sprinted off into a side alley. Had she just broken down that massive church door? So cool.
Gale caught up to Draven, asking, “Where are we going?”
He answered without turning his head. “I have a safe-house on the second layer, we can shelter there while we decide what to do.”
“You certainly are prepared.”
He didn’t answer. My brows furrowed as we followed. Was this flirt really trustworthy? If he was after my body, I didn’t care how many fireballs he could throw, I’d have to kick him where it hurt. He pulled us through a winding pathway of alleys and a few buildings. We calmly walked through the back-end of a restaurant; the workers looked up, startled, as I waved when we passed. I snagged some food from the counter, but Gale slapped it out of my hand.
An hour of walking up staircases and slipping through alleys left me breathless and irritated. I was about to smack the ear-ringed idiot in the head when he halted. Draven stopped by a wooden fence, and pushed in one of the planks. It moved forwards, allowing enough room for us to crawl through. Had he prepared this in advance? Or did he just happen to have some random safe-house? Why was he helping us in the first place? I frowned as we entered.
The opening led to a yard in front of a shabby looking shack. This was his ‘safe place?’ He turned around, arms wide. “Welcome home,” He said.
Home? It was more of a tool-shed. I put my hands to my hips as I looked at him. “Who are you? Why are you helping us?”
His face fell. “I was hoping we could settle in before I explained.”
Gale summoned his sword, pointing it at him. “We followed you, but you haven’t earned our trust. Answer her.” Mira leveled her spear at him.
Draven raised his hands in surrender. “I want you to help me kill someone. A demon.”
I frowned. A demon? “Why do you need me?”
“He’s surrounded by subordinates in enemy territory - it’d be impossible for me to do it alone. But with you? We stand a chance.”
“Are you talking about the Demon Lord?” Gale asked.
He shook his head. “Someone lower on the totem pole, though not by much. One of the generals.”
“What quarrel do you have with him?” Mirabelle asked.
“Private,” He said, “Sorry.”
I bit my lip. It wasn’t like I’d be against it, but the whole situation just seemed too strange to me. Had he been tracking me since I’d entered the city? Why had he not mentioned this when we met in the scroll shop?
“Not good enough,” Gale said.
Draven shuffled his feet, biting his lip. “Fine. The bastard killed someone close to me. I want him dead.”
We lowered our weapons, looking at each other. I shrugged. Mira seemed ambivalent, and Gale looked upset. I nudged his shoulder. “What do you think?”
He raised his hand, pointing accusatorially at him. “Is that the guy who flirted with you?”
I nodded. Gale’s face darkened. Was he upset? I held back a laugh.
Gale looked at Draven. “I’ll help you under one condition.”
Draven raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Gale raised a finger. “One punch. I get to hit you one time, and you never touch Aria again.”
Draven’s smile dropped. He looked at me helplessly. I shrugged, grinning. I wasn’t going to stop this — I’d hit him myself, but having a minion do it was equally satisfying. See if you flirt with me ever again! My attack dog was more than enough to handle this.
“Wait,” Mirabelle said. Draven looked at her, hope shining on his face. “I wish to hit him as well.”
Like a man trapped beneath ice, his hope turned to horror. “What?”
“You used that smoke spell on me before — did you forget?” Her lips twisted into a dangerous smile. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I was glad she was on our side.
Draven took a step back, seeming ready to flee. I pointed at him dramatically. “Take your hits like a man!”
He froze. Grimacing, he took a fleeting step towards us. His lips trembled. “Just not the face.”
Mirabelle stepped forwards and struck his cheek with a resounding slap. Draven’s head tilted to one side, the red mark blooming on his cheek. She returned to her spot, sporting a happy grin.
“My turn.”
Gale stepped forward, curling his fingers into a fist. Draven’s face darkened.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’ll heal you after.”
“That wasn’t my con—”
Gale’s fist socked his jaw. Draven took a step back from the force, and wiped a drop of blood from his mouth. He looked at us, eyes dead. “Happy?”
“Hmm,” I said, “Hit him for me too.”
Draven sat in a chair, moping. Gale and I sat on one of the two straw beds in the house, smiling. I looked at Draven with a grin. “Come on, you’re healed, stop sulking.”
“I’m not sulking.”
Mirabelle, standing, leaned against a wall. She checked her nails for dirt.
Draven stood suddenly. Gale looked at him suspiciously. “Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer, but walked to a shelf and pulled two jugs from it, along with some cups. He poured out four drinks, the somewhat discolored liquid filling to the brim.
Gale’s lips twitched. “You keep the liquor cabinet in your safe-house stocked?”
Draven shot him a grin. “Where else? What better time to drink than when everything’s gone to shit?” He handed the glasses out. Mirabelle took hers and sat on the other bed.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Strong.” Draven said.
I smelled it, and nearly puked. Was this kerosene? I took a hesitant sip, and immediately regretted it. I looked at Gale. He eyed the drink, before looking towards Draven pointedly. Draven smiled, downed the glass, and filled another. I looked on, astonished. What willpower!
Mirabelle drained the glass with a frown. “I miss my wine.”
Gale polished his off. He sat back, putting one arm around my waist. I scooted closer to him, letting our legs touch. I looked back at my glass. When last had we gotten drunk? Shortleaf? I grinned, draining my glass.
I set my cup aside, cuddling with Gale. Draven looked at us, amused. “You make a good couple.”
“I know,” I said. My face blushed, but I was done being embarrassed about it.
We kept drinking, swapping stories back and forth for some time. I told Draven about how we’d beaten Atrax, though I might have embellished it in my drunken haze. Gale tried to correct me, but I pinched him until he agreed to my version of the events.
It wasn’t long before the buzz of the alcohol left my memories a haze. What had we talked about? I didn’t know, but Gale’s lap was warm. My head had found its way there at some point, and I nuzzled into the heat. I felt something touch the top of my head, before someone helped me use the bathroom and get to bed. I grabbed onto the body pillow next to me and didn’t let go.
Draven stepped out of the shack, chuckling. He closed the door, not bothering to stay quiet — the others were dead asleep. He walked out into the yard, and shortly after someone hopped over the fence in one smooth jump. Draven took a pouch from his belt and tossed it to them. They caught it in a familiar movement.
“Did you have to add the soot?” She asked.
“Had to make it convincing.”
Sylvia lowered the hood she was wearing. She looked at Draven with a wry smile. “You owe me for this.” She shook her head. “Did you really need to make this so complicated?”
Draven shrugged. “I had to make sure they’d agree. Leave a good impression.”
“You almost had me kill the Pope,” Sylvia said, “We’re lucky she’s the Saintess.”
Draven laughed. “I didn’t take you to be so religious.”
She shrugged, turning around. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” She walked off without waiting for his response, and leapt over the fence again.
Draven stared at the fence, a long moment passing before he turned towards the shack again.
“Me too,” He whispered.