Night had come. Each second only elevated Corian’s excitement. He had retained his strange strength, and was able to warp the chains around his wrist to slip from them when the moment called for it. He had been sitting in the same position, hands hidden in his lap, potato sack on his head.

  It had likely disturbed the random member of Inprobus’ squadron that was watching him. But he didn’t want them to see his giddy smile and know something was up.

  And then, it came. The key lock jiggled. A switch in shifts. His body rose with excitement. It had felt like hours since he had last seen him. But this was it, it was finally Justin’s shift.

  The door opened.

  And Quibbis stepped in.

  Corian stared at the necromancer, the confusion in his mind rotting to worry as he excused the guard.

  “Hello Sweetface!” Quibbis gave Corian a cheery smile, his hands fidgeting around his robes. “I brought my cards. I had to make new ones.” He wiggled a wad of leaves pridefully. "The old ones cracked!”

  Corian didn’t wait to humour the necromancer. As soon as the guard closed the door his voice grew sharp. “Isn’t it Justin’s turn?”

  Quibbis averted his gaze, pretending to shuffle the leaves. Like a cornered cat he kept close to the opposite side of the wagon, carefully crouching down. “Would you like to play Four Guilds? Or maybe War?”

  The worry grew into a sinking dread as Quibbis avoided the question. “Quibbis.”

  His voice was a quiet mutter as he willed himself to meet Corian’s gaze. “He’s busy. Inprobus is asking them questions.”

  Corian’s blood went cold as a scream ripped through the forest.

  Quibbis cast his gaze away once more. “He did not like that answer.”

  Corian shot to his feet, his body cold with terror as another scream pierced the forest. "What did you do?!" He ripped the chains off his wrists, replaying the voice in his head. It did not sound like Justin’s. He'd never heard his friend scream like that before. God's he hoped it wasn't.

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  Quibbis cringed as Corian looked down at him, balling up his knees to prepare for a strike.

  "Where are they?" Corian growled.

  "A bridge." Quibbis replied quietly, turning his head and pulling at his black hood to cover his eyes. The thin fabric did little to cover his odd face, and it certainly wouldn't protect him from any of Corian's strikes.

  He was tempted to rip the necromancer's head off right then and there. He always had an ear on the wagon. It would be just like the rotted sack of leaves to let word of their plan slip to his father just for a pat on the head. He was pathetic and cowardly. Never fighting back, never even standing to see if he had the strength to. His thoughts never mattered, because, regardless of what was between his ears aside from worms and dried leaves, he never spoke nor showed it.

  The necromancer was useless. Sitting obediently in a wagon and cowering from the shadows that stood tall over them.

  Quibbis pulled his knees in tight as Corian took another step forwards. Like a child, hiding in a corner from their father.

  Corian relaxed, taking his attention from the twisted reflection and trying to focus it on his next plan instead. Justin hadn't accounted for the tables turning and Corian having to rescue him. But it didn't matter at the moment. He needed to protect his head, and if that involved kicking open the door and making a run for it until he saw a helmet, that's what he'd do.

  As Corian stepped closer to the door, Quibbis' quiet voice met his ears. Somber as the necromancer still mostly hid in his hood. “I miss Airlia.”

  Corian stopped. The name had taken him by surprise. But she was the one who had first enchanted Quibbis. He had been a child-sized doll at the time, and could do very little as Corian and Rikki tore around the house.

  “She had pretty cards. She always said Quibbis did a good job.” He squeezed at the little stack of leaves, his voice meek. “Inprobus doesn’t like Quibbis. That is why I forget to lock the door."

  Corian’s body stilled as he looked down at the little ball Quibbis had squeezed himself into, his fist loosening. The necromancer had not lifted his gaze once. Corian dipped his head, pulling the sack off his head so Quibbis could see his somber smile. “I miss mom too... You did a good job. The best one you could.”

  Quibbis lifted his gaze, his mouth twitching as he fought off a smile. He eyed the doorway hesitantly. “There is a man with a bow at the door.”

  Corian nodded in thanks, keeping his head clear of the door as he kicked it open.

  An arrow whizzed into the wagon, bouncing off the back wall and tumbling to the ground. It barely dented the metal.

  A wicked idea fluttered into Corian’s mind. He grabbed the swinging door, and pulled, hard, tearing through its iron hinges. The door came off in his hands before the archer could load their next shot.

  He gripped the barred window of the door like a handle and readied himself, the whining metal attracting shouts.

  If he didn’t have a helmet, a door would have to do.

  Especially as a child sized doll.