A few seconds later, Fiona and Doug had amicably shaken hands. The king was approaching with his two guards from yesterday, along with a larger assortment of clerks, and other attendants--including Stewey. And even more guards followed in the rear–a dozen in total. Barry was taking no chances on the security, but she doubted they were there to protect him from her.

  He looked a little more composed than the last time they saw him, almost a week prior. He pointed to them and gave a leering smile. “Well, well, well! The elf and the kobold are all joining the big boys at the table of inter-kingdom commerce."

  A titter of laughter left Fiona's lips before she could stop herself. Even worse, her snark got the better of her. "Barry, no one talks like that. Like seriously, where did you go to school?"

  Fortunately for her, the king wasn't ruffled by her biting commentary. "Well, I had the best tutelage my father could bring into the kingdom. Despite what you might think of me, I'm not unsophisticated. Now, this trip should take only a few weeks, and I am hopeful that things will go swimmingly well. I trust that you two won't be doing things behind my back to undermine this effort."

  They looked at each other skeptically. She knew they would be looking for alternate solutions to a massive debt problem, but they weren't about to tell Barry that. She answered him with a small curtsy. “Barry, this is not my first rodeo. I am interested in making money and turning heads. Sometimes the former causes the ladder to happen, you know what I mean?" He didn't respond and just rolled his eyes.

  "Yes, those kinds of things are what I'm worried about. I trust you’ve read up on the–”

  “Customs? Yep? Derek here,” she added as she quickly remembered Doug should not be advertising his real name, “has acquainted me with the curiosities of a state that employs…labor contracts,” she added with an acidic undertone. “It was thrilling reading material.”

  Stewey approached, looking a little more composed this time around. He whispered something in Barry’s ear, who then dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’ve been informed we’ll be leaving momentarily. Now, I would ask if you need a detachment of protection, as afforded to servants of the crown of Fiefdala…”

  “King Barry? If this place rubs me the wrong way, I have a way of handling issues. Meantime, I suggest you start digging deep to find out just what Vale will use against you. They will find a point to leverage negotiations,” she added with a low hiss.

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job,” he huffed indignantly.

  “Yeah, you’re right. You’re only as good as those who teach you.” It was a subtle rebuke at his father, who didn’t have the nerve to show up to see his son off. “Do you really care about this kingdom? That means making personal sacrifices, sometimes, and not being a greedy, self-serving prick.”

  “I would have been better served if you’d–” he started to utter before Stewey made a warning sound from his throat. Barry glared at him, before turning back to her. “You cause messes everywhere you go, Swiftheart. You should be one to talk.”

  “I could have turned my back and let you solve this problem yourself. I didn’t,” she said in a low tone. He leered at her, eye to eye, and she heard one of the guards cough awkwardly before she glanced his way. “We’re coaching! Yeah, we’re coaching! He’s so good at this!” she added with a grin, and gave them a thumbs-up, before turning back to Barry. “You know, you’ve got one thing right, so far. Being a leader isn’t fun. It’s a lot of work, isn’t it?”

  Barry put on a strained smile. “Yes. It is.”

  Without further preamble, the technicians activated the portal; the platform erupted in a crackling storm of energy that emerged from its center.

  Fiona knew enough about these platforms to know they could be dangerous before the portal had fully formed, so she waited patiently while the technicians did their work.

  Barry kept looking at her like he had something to say, but she was not interested in small talk. Hopefully, his presence by her side would be at a minimum for most of the trip. “By the way Barry, this is all business and no pleasure. If I get any pleasure out of this, you won't be notified, and it won’t be because of you.”

  “I wouldn't have the mind to ask,” he huffed. “Try not to drool during the negotiations, offer one of your catchphrases, or otherwise assault my dignity while we're here?”

  “Dignity?” she echoed. “Oh, Barry, we’re already at rock bottom on that front. We’ve got nowhere to go but up.”

  The portal shimmered with light, and otherworldly mists appeared as the connection to the other side solidified, showing a similar gate room to where they were standing–but appearing hazy. Bonnie had once said that the magic wasn’t precise in showing the other side–whatever that meant.

  She stepped through it without any more effort than she would walking through a doorway, and braced herself for a business trip of the most important kind, with Doug close behind her.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “I hate portals,” Doug muttered. “Wizard trickery. The best way to travel in bulk and without issue is flying.”

  “The odds of being smashed across the cosmos are less than…well, a tiny number,” Fiona assured him. “It’ll be fine!” She advanced with the kobold behind her in a click of claws and a scraping tail.

  Fiona expected grandiose glamor and glitz when she stepped out of the swirling mist and the teleport's scintillating colors. Maybe even a welcoming committee with snacks. None of those things happened.

  What she was greeted with was the smell. Her elven senses of smell were overburdened by the pungent odor of something consistent with garbage left in the sun for several days, then mixed with a charred, noxious scent. She almost lost breakfast right then and there; she held it in, but the expression of revulsion on her face, could not be hidden. Or the single dry heave.

  “Dear gods. All of them,” she wheezed. She looked around and noted that the building they were in wasn't the same standard as where they had left. It was hotter and more humid, and the crumbled brickwork indicated maintenance was merely a suggestion, not a safety concern. Greeting them were several attendants wearing matching, but poorly fitted beige and red uniforms, which suggested military or some police service. More to the point, this place was crowded with folk from all species, and a few she didn't quite have a name for, yet.

  This is karma, Wingding. Delayed karma for the last eight-ish months of living…well, relatively care-free.

  Flap-flap.

  You don’t agree?

  [Helping others is good.] Her rhythmic signal filled Fiona with just the little bit of confidence she needed. But she still had opinions on the arrival. “Derek? Did we take the wrong exit at Albuquerque or something?” she asked.

  Even Doug was holding his snout in disgust. "I do not think things have improved since the last time I've been here. Oh, wait, nobody is stabbing anybody in front of the teleport entryway. That's a marked improvement. " Fiona heard an audible grumble from Barry, who looked like he might vomit right then and there onto the tile floor. He clenched his jaw and tried to stretch his nose away from his face, as if that would help matters.

  “Somebody get this guy a paper bag," she sighed. But Barry, regained his composure sucked up what little willpower he had in a sharp breath. He stood up straight and adjusted his crown so it sat properly. She followed his gaze at a series of men in matching uniforms, surrounded by what she presumed was one of the leaders of Vale. He had a golden headband, though it was not as fancy as Barry’s and certainly lacked several precious gems. His clothing looked a little less refined and wrinkled. She hoped this guy was just a street performer and not the actual leader of–

  “Salutations and greetings, King Barrimeth! We spoke over the relay, thank you for coming with all due haste!” The man in front of her had an exaggerated handlebar mustache, salt and pepper hair…and seemed very joyful, all smiles and charm.

  “Greetings, Counselor Harrier,” Barry replied, wearing a smile as he tried to ignore the stench. “Thank you for attending to us, it’s a pleasure. I brought associates and people to negotiate trade and inter-kingdom commerce. I'd like to introduce you to my associate, who recently wrapped up her campaign with the Adventurer’s Guild. She was busily securing the internals of our kingdom against a sizable threat. Please, without further ado, Miss Fiona Swiftheart, of Fiefdala,” he added, bowing lightly.

  It wasn't courtesy. He was trying to get rid of her as fast as he could and dump the burden of the task on her. All eyes were on her, and she did a quick curtsy to the counselor. “Greetings Mr. Harrier, it’s a pleasure.” It took all her effort to ignore the stench of the indignity of humanity that everyone else seemed to be ignoring–was her sense of smell that sensitive, or was everyone else’s sense of smell deadened to it? Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. We need to start on the right foot, she thought adamantly.

  “Miss Swiftheart? Oh, be still, my swift heart,” the man jested. A few of his guardsmen joined in the chorus. It felt a little fake, and she’d heard this joke, on the other side of death by a mutated eldritch dragon.

  It still sounded utterly lame--time hadn't made the joke any less lame since middle school. Harrier reached down and kissed her hand, which left her with an anxious smile.

  Don’t freak, don’t freak, it’s fine, it’s all fine! They’re just acting normal! Well, what passes for normal for them, not so much for me! She shook hands like she’d read about, and nodded softly. “I look forward to the negotiations. Now, I did bring some samples, and I was told that there was a marketplace nearby. I’m unfamiliar with what is and isn’t available, and I thought it might be prudent to look around when an opportunity arises.”

  “Ah, the bazaar? Ah, that’s for the peasants and the poor,” Harrier scoffed. “With us, we will wheel and deal in the comfort of the Merchant's Guild, there will be no need for wandering. I am told the accommodations are quite cozy,” he added with a wink.

  Dude, never would I ever, with you, if you were the last Cepalunean on the planet. Wingding, you may hear a lot of angst from Mommy Dearest. Sorry in advance.

  Flap.

  With the introductions ongoing, Harrier peered at Douglas. “You know, you look like someone I know.”

  “I get this one a lot,” he sighed. “Kobolds don’t all look alike. Besides, I have my mother to thank for my eye color.”

  The man's eyes brightened. “Ah, that reminds me! There was a rather noxious dragon many years ago, who looked a little like you, with the golden eyes of the sun! She was a brute, always harassing the labor houses, targeting and incinerating the acquisitions teams.”

  Fiona took that as a rough term for ‘slave hunters’ and ‘people she could murder with a smile on her face’ if she ever caught them in the open, outside the city. But, she also got a worrying sign when Douglas tightened his claws, as Harrier continued. “She eluded us for years, and, of course, her clan brethren never lifted a claw to help find her! She was finally brought down several years ago, for the murder of several members of the De’vant labor house.”

  She fought the urge to congratulate the slaver-killing dragon, and asked a daring question. “Well, now, this dragon sounds quite renowned. What was her name?”

  “Nasty beast, she was, the world is better off without her. She was called Selune Fierkraag.”

  It took one glance at Doug’s clenched jaw, tensed claws, and wings shaking lightly, to know that she was looking at his mother’s killer.

  Barry is now forced to work with his worst enemy...this karma is gonna be epic...

  Newly Broke Heroine. Go check it out in the clickable image!

  |