“Come on, girly! Just a few hands. Maybe you’ll win some back, eh?” Lucky took a sip of her morning beer in what was left of the morning. She smiled good-naturedly, still looking disheveled. But she always looked disheveled.

  Her and her stupid drinking games. Now she’s useless through the whole morning. When will she grow up? Estara didn’t know. She understood she was young and inexperienced compared to most, but had always felt she’d had to be an adult to her younger sisters from an early age. Being the adult to those older than her was especially exasperating, though.

  They were holed up in the underground, super-fortified, and hidden base underneath Caneboro that had become known as ‘The Bunker,’ as coined by Dart. It had effectively become home to Estara, much as a soldier at a military base. So she imagined, anyway. The Farm was more like a mini-vacation comparatively.

  Estara glared cooly and unflinchingly firm at Lucky at her ridiculous and all-too-typical suggestion. “I will not. Do you think I can’t learn from my mistakes? I’m not here risking your morning breath to be your mark again.” She tapped the reports. Five of them, and Lucky had only gotten through one. Why did she even try? “Please just review them, Lucky.”

  Lucky leaned on the table and waggled her eyebrows. “One report per hand.”

  Estara sighed and sagged back in her chair. “You’re hopeless. If you aren’t going to be serious, I’m going to get on with my day. There are important things to do! Some of which integrate with matters in those reports. Do you really want me to handle things involving your organization without your input?”

  Lucky thought about it for half a second and then shrugged with a dumb smile. “Sure! Why not? Leadership cross-training! Sink or swim, I always say.”

  Estara stared at her incredulously.

  The door to the room burst open, a breathless rogue poking in. “I came as fast as I could! A situation. There’s some idiot giant foreigner trying to get himself killed asking around inns, first for ‘Little Sister’ and people thought he was a loon… but then when he got nothing and bartered for info, he started asking for… Madam Witching.”

  Lucky shot up onto her feet. “That’s Estara!”

  Simultaneously Estara shot up onto her feet. “That’s Samantha!”

  They exchanged glances. Technically, they were both right. It was just a name, possibly — ironically — Dominion-born, associated with some ‘mysterious witch mistress’ that was clearly helping Lucky’s forces. In some circles, it deepened hatred for them, while in most of those they could influence to begin with, it had been more of a benefit.

  Caneboroans liked the idea of an ‘edge’ against the Dominion. So long as it seemed like ‘one of theirs’ was still in control. Lucky had gone through extensive efforts to ensure that, though. She was far too famous to be smeared in her city.

  “Right,” the rogue said uncertainly. “Which is why I came!”

  “Could it be a trap?” Estara asked anxiously.

  Lucky was wincing and holding her head, a bit woozy. She had a hangover and had stood up too fast. But she shook it — slightly. “Too obvious, too dumb, and too weird. A foreigner? From where?”

  The rogue shook his head. “Don’t know yet. I came as soon as I heard!”

  Lucky frowned at him. “Stop saying that so loud. You’ll get your damn bonus, ya patchy scrote. A fat one. Good work, now slurry up a crew pronto and go back after him before he gets jumped by the Wizzies!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” The rogue dashed off immediately.

  “I’m going, too,” Estara said with what she hoped was confident insistence. “This could be important and they may need my support.”

  Lucky scowled at her, but quickly waved her hand. “Fine! Go on, then. Not like I’m your bloody keeper, now is it?”

  Estara fought off a smile. “Things are certainly going to be different without Dax around. She’d argue until we were both blue in the face about something like this.” I miss her already, though.

  Lucky scoffed loudly, muttering something under her breath and sitting back down to rub her forehead. “Yeah, well, you’ve got to make your own way in this world, Country Girl. But… be sure to bring Dart. S’only reasonable.”

  Estara really did smile then, though Lucky was avoiding eye contact. She wiped it off her face and said measuredly, “Of course. As a designated VIP Frou Frou, I should keep a bodyguard in public. I haven’t forgotten. Anyway, see you soon!”

  Lucky just waved dismissively without looking at her, and Estara left.

  She cares a lot, though she tries not to. She’s had so many friends die when she lived on. We revived a war that she’d been fighting cold or hot her entire life.

  The common room was abuzz as the rogue — Garfanks she believed his name was — hurriedly spilled the beans on the mission and the crew he needed. Others shouted their ‘opinions’ on what was needed, too. A core of bruisers was a given, and meanwhile, runners that would take horses headed out immediately for likely spots, with instructions to meet back at ‘Triple Alley.’

  More quietly, Estara listened and also pinged Jeeves to listen in through a mirror, offering her summary in addition and asking for mirror monitoring and possibly Resemblant scouting. There were two free in the city, so they sent one to the pub where the giant was purported to have been last and the other overhead to patrol the zone more generally for signs of anything interesting.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Dart was in mini-dragon form sitting on his customary plush purple pillow in a cabinet corner. His head was up, listening carefully, perhaps wondering if he was slated to get involved.

  When he noticed Estara, he flew over immediately, landing to perch on a chair back and look at her eagerly. His necklace jingled, prominent with its gaudy, diamond-encrusted central monogram boldly proclaiming, ‘Number 1 Canedragon.’ A ‘chip-in’ kind of gift from everyone, he was never without it. “There’s my Peachy Princess Priestess Phenom! Are we going?! Huh, huh?! I can tell! We’re going, aren’t we!? Huh, huh?!” His dragon tail wagged.

  Estara laughed and rolled her eyes at the same time. “Yes, we are, Dart.”

  “Haha!” He grinned devilishly and thrust one little scaly fist into a palm. “It’s skull-smashing time!”

  “Don’t be so eager for that,” Estara admonished him. “We want to avoid conflict this time around. Hypothetically, this is a routine extraction.”

  “Well, listen to you!” He put his hands on his hips and swayed sassily as he poorly mimed her voice. “ ‘Just a routine extraction, you crude peasant. Have some culture and listen to the girlboss. Hmmph!’ ”

  “I don’t sound like that and I didn’t say that! Knock it off, Dart!”

  Dart dropped the routine, still wearing his usual mischievous grin. “More vulnerable without your Thicc Shadow around, aren’t ya? What will you do without her?”

  “Struggle, I imagine — and don’t call her that, you great lout. I know what emphasis you’re using there.”

  “Aw, I don’t mean anything by it, you know that. Thought it was really great the few times I snuck into her lap while she was dozing on furniture. She’s got a little extra insulation, you know? Especially after fattening up on all the milk and honey of success here. That extra fat warmth sure is cozy.”

  This made Estara’s cheeks hot in second-hand embarrassment for her friend. Dax would not want such a thing pointed out, much less utilized so. “You’re horrible, Dart. Absolutely awful.”

  “I know.” He guffawed suddenly. “I just remembered the first time she caught me! She screamed in terror, and then she was super pissed at me! Hahaha! I hid under the couch! If only you heard her! ‘I’ll murder ya, c’mere you little shit!’ Hahahaha!”

  Estara shook her head at the scaly immature horror, entirely unamused. “We should revoke your ‘Number 1’ status at this point.”

  Dart suddenly cut off in his humor as he grabbed his precious monogram possessively. “Nuh-uh!” He got a touch sullen. “I’ll always be the Number 1 Canedragon.”

  Exasperated yet again, Estara just rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” I need to get him to behave better. Otherwise, when Crow finally returns, he’s going to find a way to dump him into that abyss he mentioned.

  She had time, though, much as she’d rather not. Crow was still in that strange underground realm and would be for a long while.

  They headed out in a small pack, up a couple of ramps, and through a guarded tunnel to get to their target safehouse where horses would be waiting. The men were all too happy to see her coming along in support, knowing her buffs, healing, and general backline safeguarding would be powerful if push came to shove. Meanwhile, her illusions could prove instrumental in avoiding the shove altogether.

  Estara had long accepted her role away from the frontlines. It was logical, efficient, expected, and the few times she’d taken minor hits for one reason or another, she’d seen how the men overreacted and was inclined to avoid the tactical collapse that could result. In the back of her head, she did remember that in case she needed a way to rally them, though.

  A guilty thought, but pragmatic. If they thought she was in jeopardy they would swim through acid to save her. It was both key to avoid in reality and useful to sway failing morale if done purposefully. She would account for every strategy that could save lives. Always — no matter how uncomfortable. It was no different than Mother would do or had done already.

  She brutally killed Dreixia, and masquerades as someone with one foot in the Evil Pool, all for a greater good. It’s a simple measure, ultimately: save the majority. Everyone if you can, but it isn’t always feasible. We have to be ready to make sacrifices. All within this Order are men and women prepared and willing. All know what can come.

  Samantha’s absence was well felt, a certain kind of ‘hollow’ feeling in her head. A throne seat within it was empty, basically, whereas before she could simply reach inward and grab the hem of her dress on command, knowing her mother would turn her gaze upon her daughter instantly when called. It was a missing comfort more than anything.

  On the other hand, power through her was not missing at all. Her prayers could also be overseen by her Servitors in her absence. Samantha had even given her and Orswyth a ‘six draw’ on a powerful Tarot buff, though on average half of them would be negative reverse results. Emergency use, essentially, but the potential was high. Historically, the ‘Present’ buffs were game changers.

  It was big to Estara just that she’d been trusted with it. Strangely, she was even honored by the marginal risk she’d been warned about. The six pull could be all negative, however astronomically unlikely that was. It was a deeper trust and acknowledgment of her importance that she’d risk her daughter to have it — as in, her role and need to have those reins above others trumped even the personal love she had. It was a blow to self-doubt about her worthiness to have the lofty position of High Priestess.

  Though I’m not the card. Right? I don’t fully understand what it means, but I know the others like Orswyth and Bast are Higher in unfathomable ways. We can’t allow ourselves to be deceived into believing otherwise. In fact, even they may need the reminder. In the greater war, they are the front-line spearhead. Our job is to deal with the flanks.

  While moving through the last of the tunnel with the others, Estara conjured up her initial disguise. Just another average traveler in the great chaotic mass of Caneboro. The Dominion might think the city was the focus of the revolution. Things would only get worse, if so. They’d weather the storm.

  We will protect our flank, Mother. No matter what comes.

  Dart is definitely #1 Pain In The Ass.

  Next Chapter...

  Dax struggled with her boot — and more!

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  Elias Blade, holding eternally the tarot of The Fool!

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