Page 147 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
Donna shook her head like a horse would, but that feeling of unease still remained in the bond. Brownie waited patiently, sending her own gentle nudge to the mare to ask her what was on her mind.
Eventually, Donna sighed and did something she’d never done before.
She was … apologizing? It wasn’t straight remorse, but a begrudging, rueful sorry.
“I don’t understand; is this still about Rufus?” Brownie asked.
Donna hesitated, so Brownie questioned further. “It’s not about Rufus, but Rufus knows about it?”
Donna nodded, dropping her head to the ground. Brownie wasn’t sure what the mare was doing until the gem on her collar shone rainbow bright, and a bottle of Belladonna poison appeared in front of her.
It was followed by twenty other bottles of poisonous potions and antidotes.
After a second, the horse put everything back into her storage and out of sight again. She waited for Brownie to process what she’d just revealed.
A frown tugged at Brownie’s lips. “You’re saying you have a collar full of poisons? Why—Oh no.”
The sheer audacity her horse had to look innocently up at her like what she’d just revealedwasn’tthe most horrible, no good, absolutely dreadful moment of Brownie’s adult life was unbelievable. A torrent of emotions washed over Brownie as she stared, betrayed by her own bonded companion.
“Youknow.” Brownie bit her lip and tried to push down the rising pressure in her throat. Her eyes stung as she accused, “You know why I don’t do this.”
Donna made to argue, probably something along the lines of it being the mare’s own life and her own choice separate from Brownie. She had always established boundaries around her horse business, never letting their bond gettoostrong.
“It’s not about that, and you know that!” Brownie waved a hand at the spot where she’d revealed the bottles, even without the evidence laid out in plain view. “Donna … how could you? I’m not … Ican’t.”
The mare had the grace to look sheepish, grumbling a contrite huff.
“How long hasthisbeen going on?” Brownie thought back to all of her performances after bonding with the horse all those years ago, and her stomach clenched with anger. “You took a quest at my uncle’s house thefirst time I brought you?”
There hadn’t been a molten ash vane poison yet, but someonehadused Belladonna on the marquess of Cavenish in Drendil during her trip to Terpenlily on the southeast coast. The entire performance had had to be rescheduled for thenewmarquess of Cavenish that stepped up three days later.
“And Rufusknew?” Brownie started, then slapped a hand to her face, drawing it down. “Uncle Derek. No wonder he was so upset this morning.”
The mare chuffed a bit and stamped her foot.
Brownie argued, “At least Rufus isn’t secretly taking assassin jobs. NowI’ma suspected illegal assassin!”
The bard slid down the wall until she sat in the stall with her knees against her chest, her face in her hands. It was too much. What was she going to say to her grimalcat, Momo? She’d have to explain it somehow … But what if Momo decided she’d broken her oath? What if he took back his favor?
Brownie sat there like that for a while until Donna came up and sniffed her hair. The mare was trying to reassure her that she was overthinking things and everything would be fine … but Brownie wasn’t ready to forgive her horse.
She pushed Donna away.
“I need space.” Brownie took a deep breath, wiping any stray tears from her eyes with her shirtsleeve. “And I have to get ready for my show.”
Her horse tried to say something, but Brownie needed to calm down first. She’d need to sign in and wash up, switch to her comfortable shoes, apply glitter on her cheeks, and find her cloak. And a lyre harp tuner. And a comb. Her curls would fray with a brush, but she had some oil and a wide-toothed comb tucked away in her red decoy bag.
Brownie climbed to her feet and steadied herself. Orsturdiedherself, as the case was. She left Donna without looking back.
The pair of them had more to discuss … but Brownie needed to go sing her heart out. And maybe get drunk.
Alright, she wouldn’t get drunk. But she’d think about it.
Herman’s was one of her favorite places to perform because the stage was in a corner that better carried her voice without having to use too much magic to amplify her sound. The bar was directly across the room from the stage, and Ol’ Malley the tigerkin had been a very good host for all of her shows.
He’d managed to sell out every performance and keep the crowd’s spirit lively without destroying the place. The man being a retired level forty-one Assassin made it easy for him to go around, unseen, dealing with everything neat and tidy.
“Minstrel Brownie!” Ol’ Malley greeted her with a smile when she arrived, early as per her usual. If he saw any signs of her frustration or tears, he hid it well. “Come on in. I’ll grab you a honey licorice root tea for your voice, and a full jug of water for your set.”
