“We’ll be visiting the adventuring guild first,” Mr. Ordan said as the carriage made its way into the city proper, “as once you turn in the bounties, we’ll know how large of a budget we’re working with. After that, we will visit an acquaintance I know.”

  They were all traveling together in one carriage as dividing and conquering wasn’t really possible. Kavil had never been to the city before, Priscilla hadn’t gotten around to seeing a map yet so she had gaps in her knowledge she was trying to hide, and though Sulaiman had grown up in Meadowyar, Priscilla was wary of letting him go alone. Sulaiman wasn’t an impulsive person, but Priscilla saw how tense his shoulders were, the way he kept his body carefully still even as the carriage rumbled beneath them.

  If someone decided to pick a fight with Sulaiman over his heritage, Priscilla wasn’t sure which one of them would go off on the stupid fucker first. With Mr. Ordan heading the ship, there’d be less of a chance of a fight starting. Mr. Ordan had a mean disapproval face that would look good on an elementary school’s principal.

  In other circumstances, Priscilla would be giddy that they were visiting the adventuring guild that she had only ever read about, but in light of the current circumstances, the best she could muster was to hope that it’d be mercifully uneventful.

  The adventuring guild was a large building made of dark wood near the southeast entrance to Meadowyar. A sign swang back and forth in the wind outside the front door, the symbol of the adventuring guild, a scimitar crossing over a staff, painted in white to stand out in the darkness.

  It didn’t particularly look open for business, but Sulaiman pushed his way out of the carriage without pause, so Priscilla followed after him and held out a hand to help Kavil down. Mr. Ordan pulled up the rear and they made their way into the building as Sulaiman pushed open the doors.

  The inside was dimly lit, the only sources of light three dangling lanterns positioned equidistant about the room. A few tables lined with benches decorated the interior and an array of weapons were mounted on the wall, though it was sparse otherwise, drawing one’s attention to the three counters at the far edge of the room beneath a sign that said, “Welcome to the Meadowyar Adventuring Branch.”

  A bored looking middle-aged woman with short, choppy white-blonde hair sat at the only counter that wasn’t closed, thumbing through a well-worn book with creased pages and a spine that spoke over being held open often. She was chewing on something, only pausing when Sulaiman approached.

  The woman sighed, putting the book to the side as she asked, “How can I help you?”

  Sulaiman set the bag with the hyena ears on the counter.

  “Turning in a bounty for Dappled Hyenas,” Sulaiman said gruffly as the woman dumped the bag onto the counter, not blinking an eye at the blood soaked pieces of flesh that did not smell great after a few days in the bag.

  “These suckers go for eight silver a pop,” the adventurer said, pairing the ears off. “They’ve been annoying lately, so the baron wants them gone.”

  “And while we’re at it,” Priscilla said, leaning forward, “what do we need to prove we killed a pack of Gorelock Toads?”

  The woman paused in counting, and when she looked at Priscilla, there was interest now glittering in those blue depths.

  “Well,” the woman said, sitting up, “we don’t get a lot of those turned in around here. Procedure says we should take tongues, but show me what you got anyways.”

  Priscilla produced her toad claw and the woman smiled slowly as she examined it.

  “Wowee,” the adventurer said as she handed it back to Priscilla, “it’s the genuine article. How many of these did you say you killed again?”

  “About nine I think,” Priscilla said, leaning against the counter to give the woman a smile, “but we only took three claws since the bodies were covered in poison so we cut our losses.”

  Kavil obligingly showed his claw when the adventurer looked at him and Sulaiman did the same a second later.

  The adventurer hummed, tapping her finger against lips as she considered it.

  “I’ll give you payment for three bounties, five gold a piece,” the woman eventually said, “if you tell me how you killed that many with just the three of you. I’ll even let you keep the claws, as this is the most interesting thing I’ve dealt with all day.”

  Priscilla took a deep breath and relayed the tale once more, falling into the storytelling cadence and wrapping it up as soon as she could.

  The adventurer let out a low whistle when she ended, eyes crinkled with delight.

  “Ah, I do love it when intelligence wins over brute strength,” the woman said happily. She tallied up ears quickly and pulled out a bag of coins to plop on the counter. “Thanks for the story, kid, and next time you have a tale like that, come on by and I’ll treat you to a drink next time.”

  “And who should I ask for?” Priscilla asked, handing Sulaiman the bag.

  “Talia,” the adventurer said with a crooked smile, “Talia Bates.”

  Sulaiman was already turning to walk out of the building so Priscilla just gave the woman a smile and a wave before she followed, looping her arm around Kavil’s so he stopped staring at the room around them. Mr. Ordan quietly closed the door behind them.

  Their next destination was in the artisan district in the northern half of the city, and Mr. Ordan quietly pointed out the city’s landmarks as they passed them to Kavil, who seemed torn between listening and watching Sulaiman with worry. Sulaiman kept his gaze on the window, effectively avoiding Priscilla when she tried to catch his eyes.

  As the carriage pulled to a stop, Mr. Ordan put a single hand on Sulaiman’s shoulder before he could open the door once more.

  “Remember, when we enter, please allow me to take point with the negotiations,” Mr. Ordan said calmly. “The owner has an… unique personality.”

  Sulaiman gave a stiff nod and they exited, following Mr. Ordan this time.

  The building they entered was much narrower than the guild, but it was nearly as tall, towering over the nearby structures. A golden symbol was hung onto the door, a stylized sextant into the shape of an A.

  A bell chime rang as the door opened and there was an immediate bark, “We’re closed, so scat!”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The inside of the shop was cluttered, every shelf and empty space covered in something – a clock there, a carved cat by the window, and a collection of hair pins in the display case. Priscilla couldn’t figure out what exactly this shop sold and hadn’t thought to ask, trusting that they wouldn’t visit anywhere that’d be a waste of time.

  “You’re not technically closed for another two minutes,” Mr. Ordan said smoothly, “and you owe me a favor, Arnold, so I won’t be scatting.”

  There was a frustrated sound and then a man who was presumably Arnold came stomping forward, pushing up a pair of goggles to properly glare at Mr. Ordan. Ash dappled the man’s face and his green eyes glittered with intelligence over his dirty cheeks.. Arnold’s hair was brown, dappled with gray that could be a sign of age or just ash, with a goatee and his clothes were well-worn and full of stains and holes, the type you don’t care about ruining.

  Arnold came to a stop seeing that Mr. Ordan wasn’t alone and eyed the trio with unabashed suspicion.

  “What are you up to, Hans?” Arnold asked as he crossed his arms. “You better tell those employers of yours that their order will be done in three weeks at the earliest and no matter how much they pay me, that can’t be changed. If they keep hounding me, I’m going to cancel it and good luck for them to find any fucking enchanter’s in the city willing to work with them.”

  “I’m not here for that,” Mr. Ordan said, shaking his head, “I was hoping to speak to you about renting three sets of enchanted saddles and bridles.”

  That stopped Arnold short, and his gaze locked in on Priscilla like it was a laser guided missile.

  “Huh,” Arnold said, ambling forward to examine Priscilla more closely. “I see you’re here for the daughter Priscilla Thornewood instead, Hans, which is nearly as bad, so you–”

  “It’s Priscilla Sunscarre, actually,” Priscilla couldn’t help but say since the conversation looked like it was already fucked, meeting Arnold’s startled gaze with a bright smile that held only a hint of anger. “If you’re not a fan of Mr. and Mrs. Thornewood, then it looks like we’re two peas in a pod, Arnold – in fact, if you’d like I can list off a few reasons why they’re pieces of shit if you’d like proof, the least of which is that they were more than happy to disown me when given the chance.”

  There was a long beat of silence where Arnold’s face went blank and Mr. Ordan had a hand over his face like he was fighting off despair. Kavil had a hand clamped over his mouth, eyes wide, and Sulaiman was staring at her, the only hint of emotion showing through the slight twitching of his eyebrow upwards.

  But the silence was broken by a sharp laugh from Arnold, the type that shook his shoulders and chased away the last of the irritation from his expression.

  “I see,” Arnold said with a smile, stroking his chin in a way that reminded Priscilla of a supervillain. “Well, I suppose it won’t hurt to hear out your request then. Three sets of saddles and bridles was it? Where are you off to?”

  “The Heinlein Fens,” Priscilla said, as Arnold’s gaze hadn’t turned back towards Mr. Ordan.

  “Why’d you want to visit such a miserable place?”

  “My sister’s there because of the damned Thornewoods,” Priscilla said, “and we have reason to believe that things are straight fucked in the fens at the moment, since Gorelock Toads attacked us in the Emerald Forest.”

  Arnold was quiet, stroking his chin as he looked towards the ceiling with a considering look.

  “I don’t have any equipment that’ll allow you to travel by horseback in the fens,” Arnold said, “but I can see why time’s of the essence. Unfortunately, unless those parents of yours gave you an exorbitant allowance, three sets will be out of your price range.”

  “Which is why I want to negotiate a short rental period,” Mr. Ordan said, cutting in smoothly.

  Arnold sighed loudly, waving his hand at the butler dismissively. “Hans, if these punks are really going in the fens, there’s no guarantee I’ll get my work back. I’m running low on supplies with the nasty trade trouble with the confederacy, and I can’t afford charity even if I like the kid’s spunk.”

  “We’ll leave the horses at Aidais' Lament, the nearest town outside the fens,” Priscilla offered, “and if we’re not back in two weeks, you can send someone to fetch the horses and equipment without having to brave the muck and monsters to retrieve it.”

  Mr. Ordan looked alarmed at the possibility she wasn’t coming back, but Arnold regained his smile, laughing as he slapped Priscilla on the back.

  “I see why you don’t get along with your parents,” Arnold said, leaning in, “you like taking risks that would make them break out in hives. Hans!” Mr. Ordan looked tired as Arnold turned towards him. “Let’s figure out the price to not bore these young ones.”

  Arnold strong armed Mr. Ordan into the back room, leaving Priscilla alone with the boys.

  “They really disowned you?” Kavil asked after a brief period of awkward silence. “I noticed you had a different last name but…”

  Priscilla sighed and ran a hand through her bangs, running her nails over her scalp. Explaining this was unavoidable but Priscilla didn't want to bog Kavil down with all the nitty gritty family drama that didn't affect him.

  “They did,” Priscilla said simply. “I realized that the life I wanted could never be achieved by chasing for affection I wouldn’t get, and they wouldn’t let me be a no-name, so I got stuck with Sunscarre.”

  Kavil chewed on his lip, clearly unhappy with the whole situation but struggling to verbalize it.

  “It’s not all that bad, Kavil,” Priscilla said, softening and affecting a light tone. “I got plenty in return, they agreed to bankroll my adventures and let me do whatever I want without bothering me – and the contract is notarized so they won’t be able to go back on it. Once we find Illnyea and get her up to speed, I won’t have any reason to talk with them ever again, and I can focus on the people that make me happy in life. Like you, Sulaiman, and Illnyea.”

  The dark expression clung to Kavil, but he shook off most of it to reach forward and capture Priscilla’s hand.

  “You make me happy too,” Kavil said, bringing her hand up and squeezing it firmly, “and we’ll make enough happy memories together to erase all the unhappiness they’ve caused you.”

  Priscilla’s tongue felt awkward and heavy in her mouth, unwilling to curve so she could formulate some sort of response.

  Kavil smiled, gently patting her hand as he said insistently, “Right, Sulaiman?”

  It took a long moment but Sulaiman stepped forward into Priscilla’s peripheral vision.

  There was still tension in his body, but Sulaiman’s marble expression had finally cracked as he looked at Priscilla with a complicated mixture of compassion, annoyance, and sympathy.

  “If I must,” Sulaiman said slowly, “I suppose I can be involved in this ridiculousness.”

  “Don’t sound so reluctant!” Kavil said, letting go of Priscilla’s hand to smack Sulaiman’s shoulder lightly. “You’re going to have fun too!”

  “Woo,” Sulaiman said half-heartedly and Kavil groaned.

  Her favorite characters were proving just why she had fallen in love with them in the first place and it filled her heart with warmth that was hard to describe.

  So Priscilla ignored it, standing on her tiptoes to throw an arm around Sulaiman’s shoulder saying, “No, you have to put your whole chest into it, Sulaiman, like this – woohoo!”

  Kavil echoed her cheer and Sulaiman sighed deeply.

  Mr. Ordan negotiated a great rental deal with Arnold, who told them to come back round if they didn’t die, and expertly helped them locate the rest of their supplies, like a tent, waterproof everything, torches and oil flasks, and a monster-repulsing incense he insisted they take with to burn during night.

  The last highlight of their shopping trip was when they entered the weapon’s dealer to pick up more crossbow bolts, a new shield for Sulaiman, and a buckler for Kavil when something caught Priscilla’s eye.

  A gleaming metal club was hanging on the wall.

  She had only ever been mildly sporty in her past life because Mr. –– insisted she broaden her horizons (which was ironic coming from such an artsy-fartsy boy like himself) but she had grown familiar with the length of a baseball bat.

  The club was a similar shape and size, and though it was a little heavier than she was used to, Priscilla liked the reach of it when she gave a few test swings.

  “You already have a weapon,” Sulaiman said as Priscilla brought it up to the counter.

  “One I’m just as likely to cut myself with than actually hitting an enemy,” Priscilla shot back. “At least with this, the worst I can do is bruise myself.”

  Sulaiman opened his mouth to argue and then shut it when Priscilla gave him a stubborn glare.

  “As soon as this is all over,” Sulaiman said, “you’re going to learn how to wield that damned sword if it kills me.”

  Priscilla just rolled her eyes and complemented Kavil on the gray leather armor he picked up.

  By the end of their shopping trip, Priscilla’s purse was far lighter but it was money well spent.