“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said the blonde boy in tights.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Alice said, “I’m here for the private adventurer. Maybe some other time.”

  “What?”

  “So, when’s this Elyas guy coming back? I’ve been waiting forever.”

  The man was still staring at her, face all blank. She got that a lot because of the whole elf thing, but this guy looked like he just saw a zombie.

  He took out a scrap of paper, and his eyes darted from it to her and back. “I’m sorry, miss, but are you wanted or something?”

  “Let me see that.” Alice got on her feet in an instant. She snatched the flyer from his hands. “Damn it, they got my bad side.”

  “Your what?”

  “Yup, that’s me alright.” She pushed the poster back into his hands.

  He sat on the bed, holding his head in one hand and crumpling the flyer in the other. “Oh lord, I’m really done for now. First, assaulting inquisitors, then aiding and abetting an outlaw. It's all over.”

  “Hey! Who’re you calling a criminal?” said Alice.

  “I'll have to skip town, maybe change my name, grow a beard.”

  “Back up for a sec. Did you just say you assaulted Church officials?”

  The man looked up at her with sunken eyes. “It’s a long story.”

  “I got time.” Alice sat down next to him, though not too close.

  The bed was rough, hard, and smelled lightly of body odor. The rest of the room looked like a psychopath’s den, what with all the weapon racks and dirty laundry strewn about. A typical bachelor pad, basically; not that her bedroom was in better shape.

  “Fine.” He leaned back on the bed and splayed his legs. “I was helping out at an adult bookstore when the Branish Inquisition came knocking, asking if I’d seen you. They saw the contents of the shop and decided it needed to be burned down. I disagreed with them.”

  “… shit.”

  “Exactly. And now they know my face and they’re gonna find out who I am and they’ll come here and—”

  “And we’ll stop them,” Alice said.

  “Nope. No. No way.” He stood up and gave a demonstration of the symptoms of a panic attack. “I can’t get into trouble with the authorities. I’ve got plans for my future and everything.”

  “Sure you do, buddy,” Alice said, glancing at his outfit.

  He shut his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “What do you suggest then?”

  "Well… I was just gonna sit here and wait for the private adventurer guy. He can help us both out."

  "Adventurer? More like private errand boy."

  "You know him?"

  "Do I know him?" He shook his head but didn’t elaborate as if waiting for Alice to prod him. She hated it when people did that, so she wasn't about to give him the pleasure.

  "I work for the man," he said at last, "for now at least."

  "O-kay."

  "This was just for the bookstore job." He gestured to his getup. "Not that the other jobs were any less demeaning."

  "And what do you do in these other jobs? Pick fights with the Queensguard and get into bruhahas with the City Watch?" Said Alice.

  "If only," he said with a smile. He plopped right back down beside her. "Look, I don't know Elyas very well, and I don't know you at all, so you better have some good explanations for why the Church is after you if you want his help."

  "It's kind of a long story,” Alice said.

  "I got time."

  "Where do I start?"

  "How about with your name?"

  It went down like this.

  After her flight from the dungeons, she ended up in Lowtown, far from the cathedral. The next thing she did was to look for a place to stay. She barged into one of her regular taverns, if only because she didn’t know where else to go.

  Mugs clinked. Instruments strummed. Several people cheered as a pair of dice rattled to a stop on one table, while in another part of the tavern, a group of hammered sailors threw sharp objects at straw dummies.

  Alice did the only thing she knew how to do. She went to the bar for a drink.

  "Whoa there, missy, you look like you've seen the Devil," said Berta, the tavern's co-proprietor.

  "Pint. Now," Alice said.

  As soon as the mug dropped in front of her, Alice grabbed it and poured the cool liquid down her throat. Then her eyes fixed on her reflection in the glass. Damn, she did look like crap. Her hair was all frizzed up, her clothes a muddy mess.

  “Don’t down it all in one go now,” Berta said.

  Alice did just that and slammed the mug down. "Another."

  "Sure hope you got the means to pay for it, honey," Berta said, "after what you pulled last night."

  "Pulled last what?" Said Alice.

  "Were you really that wasted?"

  "Right, the game. Thanks for the bottle, by the way." It was right then that a terrible realization dawned on Alice. She dug into her trouser pockets and pulled out a few stray silver pieces.

  Berta looked down at the coins. "You better not be planning on refills."

  Suddenly, the sound of clopping hooves sent Alice into a frenzy. She slid over the countertop and slapped down hard on the other side of the bar.

  "What in blazes has gotten into you?" Berta said.

  Could it be? No, they wouldn't. She was just one girl. They didn't need to call out the templars. She peeked over the counter and scanned the window panes. All clear. It must have been some passing knights.

  "I gotta know what you're on right now," Berta said.

  "Why does everyone assume I’m on drugs?"

  "Then explain all this."

  "Can't. Not right now." Alice remained crouched behind the counter, her chest still pounding. Her heart had gone through a lot over the past several hours.

  Berta squatted beside her. "Sweetie, you can tell me anything."

  It was nice to know there were still good people in this world. "Do you have any rooms available?" Alice asked.

  "Sure. Whaddya want? The poor suite, the squalid suite, or the wretched suite?"

  "Do you have one that's free?"

  ~~

  The soapy water splashed around in the sink and spilled on the apron Alice was lent. Her grubby skin longed for a warm bubble bath. Her back ached for those silk sheets. Now she was scrubbing muck off the bottom of this rice pot for the right to sleep on the couch.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Marion always harped on her for taking certain things for granted. Alice didn't want to admit she was right. Not to her face at least.

  "It's just for a few nights," Berta’s voice said from the other room. "And she’ll work it off. We could use the help."

  "That's not the issue here," said her husband in a quieter voice, "I just don't want the inquisition knocking on our doorstep."

  "That's exactly why we need to help her. She's scared witless, the poor thing."

  Their conversation continued in hushed tones. Alice could barely make out the words. Then she heard a small object smash against a wall, followed by footsteps up the stairs.

  Was this what it was like to grow up with two parents? She did have a grasp on the nagging mother experience, though. And Dad wasn't exactly perfect either.

  She finished with the dishes and hung the apron on a peg. It’s now or never. She pushed open the door out of the kitchen. Unfortunately, Berta was the one who retreated to her chambers, leaving Alice alone with the husband.

  Jim sat alone on a table by the fireplace in the emptied-out tavern, sipping on a wineglass and smoking a pipe. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, which only barely kept the cold at bay.

  "Come, sit," he said, filling an empty glass with wine from the bottle. He had salt and pepper hair, a messy stubble of a beard, and a tired, wrinkled face.

  Alice stepped up to him but didn't sit down. "Thank you for your generosity. I will be out of your hair by tomorrow."

  "Tell me about this pickle of yours," he said without looking at her. "Berta told me the gist of it, but I want to hear it from you."

  Alice sat and gave him the run down. She left out specific names, the bit about her father, and Homolepithecus elficanus.

  "No one'd believe you," Jim said after he heard it all.

  "Do you believe me?" Alice asked.

  "We both know that doesn’t matter."

  Alice sighed and slumped in her chair. "There's nothing I can do now, is there?"

  "Probably not."

  They sat together in silence watching the embers fizzle on the firewood. Alice drew closer to the fireplace. She didn't realize how cold it was without the centralized magical heating system of the cathedral.

  "There was this wise woman,” Jim said after a while. “Lived right down the block. Nice old lady, kept to the Old Faith. They dragged her out on the streets and whipped her once for each and every false god she believed in – which was a lot, I'll tell ya."

  He let out another puff of smoke before continuing. "Point is, they’ve been heinous for a while now. You only began caring as soon as you got involved."

  “That’s not fair, I…” She let her words dissipate with the smoke. He was right.

  "Wasn’t always like this. For whatever reason, things changed a few years ago."

  Four years ago, Alice guessed. She knew why.

  “I know I’ve been a hypocrite,” she said, “but I’m here right now. Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t we take this to the Watch?”

  Jim laughed, deep and loud.

  "Alright then, thanks for the pep talk, mister." Alice rose and turned to the kitchen. "If you don't mind, I'll be by the bar pumping myself silly." If this was to be her last night of freedom, she might as well spend it doing what she loved.

  "Hold on just a second, young 'un. Answer me this."

  Alice flopped back into the chair. Guess this was one lecture she couldn't weasel her way out of.

  "When you have a problem needs solving and neither the City Watch nor the Church can solve it? Where do you go?" Jim said.

  "The Adventuring Guilds, duh. It’s literally their slogan. But they're not gonna give a wererat's ass about someone like me." Alice pulled her pockets inside out to punctuate the point.

  "What if I told you there was another type of adventurer? An adventurer who helps the downtrodden when no one else will. Not for profit, glory, or fame."

  "Bullshit. I may have grown up in an ivory tower, but I'm not na?ve enough to believe in those old adventure books."

  "You sure about that? The best stories, the ones that stick with us, we brush ‘em off because buried in all the fluff and feather are the things that we know could be true if we tried."

  Jim took out a thin metal card from his coat and handed it to Alice. It had a single name engraved with the words 'private adventurer' below it. On the flip side was an address.

  "Is this for real?"

  "He's become something of an urban legend in these parts, though most people just think he's a ditz. I didn’t believe it at first either." Jim stared at the fire, his eyes hypnotized by things she couldn’t see. "That is, until he saved my life."

  "No kidding."

  "You bet. Didn't even ask him to. When I tried to offer him something out of gratitude – coin, money, whatever he wanted – he pointed to my rum case and said, 'I'll have the cheapest one.' "

  Alice whistled. What a line. "So you really think he can do something about my predicament?"

  "Only he can tell you that. Head down to his office tomorrow and see for yourself. And when you do, tell him ol' Jim said hi."

  "Wow," said Arthur.

  "I know," said Alice.

  They sat cross-legged around the short table at the center of the attic, sipping warm tea from tiny wooden cups. It tasted different from the tea she was used to. More relaxing than invigorating. Apparently, it came from the lands Elyas hailed from, wherever that was.

  Arthur had already changed out of that work costume into trousers, a discolored shirt, and a tattered coat. He leaned forward and blew on his tea.

  "So you're telling me,” he said, “you were wandering around a museum of natural science for no apparent reason when you just happened upon a book that opened a secret doorway into a slaughterhouse."

  "Not for no reason," Alice said, "I was looking for the Prophecy of the Chosen One."

  "And that's relevant because..."

  "I don't know. Might have something to do with the Church's plans and shenanigans or something. It was a gut feeling."

  "I still can't believe you're friends with the Daughter of Greg," said Arthur.

  "She's a daughter, alright." Alice took another sip, soothing her nerves. Something nagged at the back of her brain every time she thought about this Daughter business. She looked at the warm yellow drink in her hands, and for some reason, it evoked memories of wine.

  Arthur glanced at the dusk sky out the window. "Elyas is taking an awfully long time."

  “Maybe the guy he was stalking caught on and killed him.”

  "He better not be dead. Not before he pays me."

  Alice smirked. "I still can't believe I'm sipping tea with a nude model."

  "It was a one-time gig. Besides, I'll be moving on to greener pastures in the future. I hope."

  "Must be nice to have a goal in life."

  "Yeah, I'm not so sure about that anymore."

  Before Alice could ask him what he meant, a commotion of footsteps from beneath the floorboards drew her attention.

  Then out of nowhere, a humongous furry figure leapt out of the trapdoor.

  Alice screamed and fell backward, spilling hot tea on her pants.

  The creature was on top of her in an instant, sniffing her crotch with its tongue out. Big enough to be used as a mount by a halfling, it looked like a cross between a sheepdog and a grey wolf. Its yellow eyes stood in stark contrast with the dark woolly rug that was its fur. Its mouth hung open in the closest way a member of the canine family could approximate a grin.

  Arthur wrapped his hands around its thick neck and tried to pull it back. "Shaggy, stop! Let the nice lady breathe."

  Alice held the wolf-dog's head and tried to push it away from her trousers to no avail.

  Another form leapt out of the hole in the floor, pulling the rope ladder behind him and slamming the trapdoor shut. The hooded man zipped to the bed and pulled the curtains over the window. "Shut up," he shouted in a whisper.

  He ducked under the window and peeked over the sill. The hound left Alice and was next to him in an instant. The man – presumably Elyas – pushed the wolf's head below the curtains, but the mutt raised it again and stuck it out the window.

  Elyas let out a breath and took off his cloak. "Looks like we lost him, buddy. That was a close one."

  Arthur was on his feet, arms crossed like a disappointed mother. "What on Irth have you gotten yourself into this time?"

  "Nothing to worry about," Elyas said. "I just hope they don't bring me in as a witness in the custody battle."

  "So much for 'quiet as the wind, invisible as a shadow.' "

  "How was I supposed to know he would pee in the alley I was hiding in?" Elyas looked at Alice, then back at Arthur. "Was I interrupting something? I'll be in the office then." He got to his feet and made for the trapdoor.

  "No, you dolt, this is a client."

  He stopped, turned on his heels, blinked a few times, and bowed lightly. "Mrhban, Miss. Or is it Namaste? What do elves say? Salve?"

  "Hello, would be fine," said Alice, rising from the floor.

  "Cheerio, it is then," Elyas said with a smile.

  Damn her upper circle accent. It stuck out like a thumb in these parts. That and the ears.

  She reached out her hand. "Alythyrra Maximia Harwood, Alice for short. It's a pleasure."

  "The pleasure is mine." He brought her hand to his lips. "Elyas M. Venturero. Private adventurer."

  Lean and tall, Elyas’s complexion was some racially ambiguous shade of brown, with eyes like black coffee. His stubble reminded her of an adolescent eager to grow a beard, yet he was clearly in his mid or late 30's.

  "You are a client, yes?" He said. "How may I be of service?"

  She couldn't place the accent either. Foreign yet fluent, with rolled r's but hard consonants.

  "It's a long story," Alice said.

  "Try me."

  ~~

  Elyas sipped tea by the window, gazing out at the sea reflecting twilight. The wolf – Shaggydog – was snoring in the corner.

  Alice just finished telling her story, with Arthur adding his encounter, and all Elyas said was that he would 'think about it'. That was a good five minutes ago. She looked to Arthur for guidance. He shrugged.

  It was getting late, and she didn't want to impose on them if she could avoid it, but there weren't any alternatives.

  "Want my advice, kid?" Elyas said, without turning around

  "That’s why I'm here," Alice said.

  "Lay low for a while, then skip town and forget any of this ever happened."

  Alice couldn't believe what she was hearing. "And I'm supposed to, what, ignore what I saw down there? Never mind the queen, they're torturing and murdering innocents."

  "And you'll end up one of them if you stick your head where it doesn't belong."

  "They're already after our necks," said Arthur.

  "Thank you," Alice said.

  She was about to add something else, but Arthur stood up and beat her to it.

  "Come on, Elyas," he said. "Isn’t this what we work for? Helping the poor, the weak, and the defenseless when no one else will."

  "What he said," Alice added, standing up as well.

  Elyas took a leisurely slurp from his tea, then said, "And how do you suppose the three of us confront a massive religious organization with money, connections, and political power — not to mention the backing of this 'Greg' fellow you people go on about?"

  "We were hoping you would know," Alice said.

  "You're both so young," Elyas muttered under his breath. "If we're doing this, I need to know you are willing to do whatever it takes. Both of you."

  "I am," said Arthur without a beat.

  "It won't be easy. And I won't lie, our chances of success are slim."

  "Eh, don't have much else going for me anyway," said Alice.

  Elyas turned and looked her in the eye. "And you're willing to die for this cause?"

  That gave Alice a stop. Was she ready to risk it all?

  She grabbed the bottle of rum she brought, courtesy of Jim and Berta. It wasn't even full anymore (Alice couldn't help herself on the way). "Look, man, if you want payment, then here." She offered the bottle to him.

  A mischievous smile crept onto his face. "You got a deal."