Page 50 of I Ran Away to Evil
“We’re almost home, ladies and gents,” a happy voice boasted. It belonged to a large woman in a blue vest sitting on a makeshift log. She was eating the first bowl of soup served. “Which means only one drink each, and then let’s get an early bed.”
There was a groan from the other campers, but no one argued.
“Hey, we’ll all be living like kings when we meet Duke Lector in Servalt,” the woman consoled them. “Easiest gold we’ve ever made.”
“Speak fer yerself, boss!” a young man missing a great many teeth chimed in. He had a large scroll map out in front of him as he nursed a cup.
“Come off it, Warren. You can’t expect places to stay still in the dark woods. You know that.”
“And what about those damnbluffs,” another grumbled. He was short and lithe and chewing on hay grass. “Youdidn’t ’ave to climb tha side of a friggin’ canyon drop to get the goods, now didja?”
“We all appreciate you getting the eggs, Darryl,” the leader said. “And you didn’t die, so it all turned out fine in the end.”
I’d heard enough to piece together a picture from one of Madame Potts’s Castings. Now, I just needed to think about how I should go about this.
To confront or not to confront, that was the question.
CHAPTER 32
Treasure Hunting
Keith
Keith focused on keeping Hubert seated on a branch beside Henrietta.
He had finished his office work, then spelled around in his workroom for a few hours until it was time to see Henrietta.
He moved the raven to hop onto her shoulder and gently ran its beak through her hair, reminding her that he was still there if she needed him.
The bird’s eyes were enhanced with magic, and he could see the princess as clear as day even in the dark night of the forest. She was deep in thought but reached up to stroke his construct’s feathers. Keith was pleased that he had used real feathers for the aesthetic.
Keith didn’t care about the mercenaries or the eggs, though he supposed returning them would be a great political boon in his relations with the dwarven nation.
He just wanted Henrietta to be safe. Not that he should really be worried.
She came to a conclusion and sent him flying. She crouched low to the ground and burst into a light-footed silent sprint farther away from the group.
When she was alone at a distance that no one could overhear, Henrietta stopped and lifted one hand in front of her. Keith flew down, careful not to dig the talons into her flesh.
“Keith?”
“Yes, Ria?” The raven simply opened its maw, and Keith projected his voice using [Ventriloquism].
“These are your lands, so I was wondering if you have a preference?” she asked. “Kill? Capture?”
Keith projected, “I don’t mind whichever.”
Henrietta leaned forward, resting her head against the raven. “I don’t like killing.”
“Then don’t,” Keith replied. He’d asked her to go on this run because … Well, he had a list of reasons, starting with Rufus suggesting a distraction.
Though the moment she’d left, he’d regretted it and immediately wanted to call her back.
But Rufus was right, and he wasn’t really worried about a small mercenary troop fighting against a Sword Master. Honestly, he wasn’t even worried about her fighting in thewar, just fighting againsther peoplein the war.
Henrietta placed his raven gently back on her shoulder.
“Alright,” she whispered, “Here we go.”
