Fiona examined her traveling solution in Bonnie’s workshop, adjacent to her apartment. She forgot how cozy Bonnie’s living space was, and the workshop she used to lifeboat in was much larger. Inside, it was filled with tools, magical wands…and lots of spare witch hats. They all had the cute ear cutouts for an even cuter kitsune, and were styled differently. She had a feeling each of them had a special function.

  A hat for every occasion. I should get one–eh, nah. Hats don’t suit me too well. Her wild hair would not be contained by head receptacles, and she gazed around, noting the organization. “Man, I can’t believe you used to work out of here to make money.”

  “It’s compact, but I get a lot of use out of it. Plus the extra rent that my landlord charged was dirt cheap. Her husband’s tools also got organized and cleaned up,” she added slyly. “That one was for free.”

  “So. this is it?” What she saw was a miniature shack that was packed to the gills with shelving, a small portable arcanist power supply, racks, and everything Fiona would need for a shop on the move.

  “I mean you work wonders, Bonnie. Remind me, why can’t we use your amazing witchery skills to float our shop to another kingdom, now that I don’t have an onerous debt over my head?”

  “We lease the shop, we don’t own it. Floating buildings have their own levels of hazard insurance,” Bonnie chuckled. She, too, was peering at the contraption she was building–the rune of compression. “So, let’s go through it. We’re sure the home shop will be covered when you’re gone?”

  “As best as we can manage. Greg hired more people that he knows and vouches for. I trust Greg is good for it.” She leaned down and examined the kiosk that would be loaded to the gills with stock items. They had hastily constructed it with witchery, overtime hours, and a helping hand from the mercantile guild. “It’s a thing of beauty!”

  “I am standing here, quite aware you’re talking about me, and yes, I hired more people from the guild that have the correct background and disposition,” Greg chuckled from her side, as the three of them examined the mobile storefront. “So, let me see if I understand how this will work. You plan on bringing the shop with you, and you’ll hop back and forth using your signature Fiona-powered teleport?”

  “Eh. We need a better name for it. Wingding, what do you propose?” she asked her mark. Greg looked perplexed as Wingding tapped out Morse code with her wingbeats.

  “What is this code you taught her?”

  “Morse code? It’s ancient, it goes back almost two hundred years, back when messages were limited to letters, or binary electric signals,” she explained. “I was a girl scout, and we learned this kind of stuff. I was kind of a huge nerd, back in the day! Anyway, Wingding wants to call it…”

  She narrowed her eyes when her wingmate gave her a playful answer. “The Fiona express?” Eh, that seems pretty on the nose.”

  “You have to teach me Morse code so I can talk to her without needing a translator,” Bonnie added with a bit of sass, her tail swaying back and forth calmly. “Okay, so here’s how this thing works.”

  She showed them a bracer she had cobbled together with runes adorned on one side, each one clearly labeled. “First rune deploys it. The second one compresses it back to a size you can fit in a backpack. The third one is the panic alarm. Please do not be anywhere close to it, as it will be loud, and possibly dangerous.”

  “I feel like this is one of those where it’s better to explain it than test it,” Fiona added. “Old me would have pressed the button to see what happened.”

  “You remember that little device you sold to Harrington? The one that makes people hear their greatest fears? Oh, this does that at an industrial scale, and the kiosk transforms–temporarily–into a dangerous, wood and metal construct that’s going to give a bruising to anyone trying to break it, or steal from it. Now, I did bake in several safeties, it won’t work if anyone’s inside the shop, and if you hit the panic alarm, a telekinetic blast should clear everyone away from it when it goes into defense mode.” Bonnie’s finger hovered over the button, her eyes gleaming in mischief. “I want to test it.”

  “I prefer we don’t,” Greg countered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We have elven mischief in the room, we don’t need to add to it with kitsune wily wit.” Bonnie pouted for a second before he cleared his throat. “Also, it's teeny tiny in here.”

  “Eh, fair point.” She latched a small cover over the panic button. “It will be keyed to you or anyone from our shop. I just don't like the idea of you going to Vale, alone. People have already been trying to use you as a pawn.”

  She let out a scoff. “Yep. It's totally not cool. Barry should count his lucky stars that I care more about Fiefdala than hating him and Rikkard right now.” She clenched her fist tightly. “I trusted Rikkard. Turns out he's a fraud. Now I find myself wondering if Lucy knew all this!”

  Greg shook his head gently. “I don't think she did, Fiona. The adversaries we’re after are in Vale and elsewhere. And Glados is likely aware we’re up to something. Bonnie will work on figuring out what she's up to, we've got some people to reach out to."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “And, Barry will be there at Vale, negotiating. Separating those two is prudent. I don't trust him, Greg, that snake is still lying about something,” Bonnie uttered, tapping the bracer impatiently. “Well, short version, we’re ready for our elf to go mobile!”

  Fiona heard a click of claws in the background and turned her head to see Doug walk into the tool room, surprising her. “You know we're not technically on the clock, Doug.”

  “Well, I think this one was important enough to warrant talking to you in person. I want to go along.” The fact that he was dressed down in a more casual tunic and slacks, was telling.

  “You?” She echoed. “Look, Doug, you and I have a bit of a tense history, and I think I have this handled.”

  “I wouldn't characterize it like that. I think after working with you for a few weeks…you do know how to run a business. Probably better than you were at being someone else's blunt instrument,” he added dryly. “Besides, I have my own reasons to be there.”

  “Doug, no offense, but you and I are…” she trailed off. “I blew up your lair! I took all your stuff like it was a prize to boast about! Like seriously, how are you not pissed at that?”

  “Oh, that one is still in the to-be-repaid pile,” he snorted. A wisp of smoke emerged from his snout, which he quickly covered with his hand, before recomposing himself. “I know you didn't have all the facts, but you hurt people unintentionally. Fixing that would go a long way towards making us even.”

  “I was going to Vale to find Karlin anyway. Even if it's for my own reason of looking out for the best interests of Fiefdala, and my shop.” She paused as he canted his head, wings spread like he was expecting something more. “And…my coworkers,” she added with a sigh. She saw the barest hint of a smirk on his snout. “Look, I can't make any promises of what's going to happen there.”

  “Neither can I. Karlin has taken a flamethrower to my life more than once, and this time, it rubbed me the wrong way. He's not dumb--he's just not sophisticated,” he added with a growl. “You were right about one thing, Miss Swiftheart. He will continue to bully me around unless I do something about it.”

  “Like, what, killing him?”

  “No. That wouldn't suit me. I just want him to acknowledge me as an equal and to let me live my life in peace,” Doug huffed.

  “Well, then, how do you plan on that? I never heard of anyone threatening a dragon with jail time,” Fiona proposed, before frowning. “That is a good question. Like, dragons have their own society, and you guys have multiple cities. How do you handle law and order?”

  “The same way the smaller folk do, but with bigger prison doors, and thicker bars. Also, some anti-magic barriers that keep them from getting any cute ideas,” he added with a toothy smirk. “What’s this, is the elf curious about the world, now that she’s not smashing slime monsters to goo, and beating up respected citizens?”

  “Yes, I am,” she sighed. He raised an eye crest at that. “Look, Doug, without getting into spicy details? I might be a teeny, tiny, extremely messed up person, in the space between my cute, pointy ears,” she added with a heightened tone. “Know why?”

  “You mentioned something about a dragon killing you,” he replied, folding his arms gently. “But yet, you’re alive.”

  “Yeah. I uh…I kinda messed up a bit, back there on Earth. Some of it me…some of it…not so much,” she added, glancing at the missing ring on her left hand. The one that was lightyears and an entire reality away. “I didn’t get a chance to fix my mistakes, because the monsters came and started deconstructing…well…everything. I buried what happened to me so far down, that I was content to take on the quickest distraction I could find, and never give it a second backward. And now, I can’t spend a day without thinking about it, and how I need to do better.”

  “So, this nicer, less spendthrift Fiona is…” Greg trailed off.

  “Me. Trying to do better,” she admitted. “It’s not easy. You know my impulse is to still smash the palace to pebbles, take the shop, and leave. Then we all go riding off into the sunset together and set up elsewhere. Faredala, Bar’dathi, hell, maybe we should pay the dragons a visit!”

  “Granny would die from sadness,” Bonnie concluded. “She still is going to be mighty sad you’re going to be at this for a few weeks, or more. And Tucker is going to gnaw on my tail again,” she added with a cute growl.

  “Nonsense! I’m a hop, skip, and a blink away from home!” Fiona beamed. “Besides, like I said before, I like Fiefdala. It’s a home to me. I couldn’t give that up, which means, I gotta work to keep it in one piece. Though rather than being a dragon-smashing warrior…I get to wheel and deal with mercantile products and make smashing deals, instead.”

  “I prefer this method,” Doug grunted. “I’ll throw in another reason I should accompany you. I know Vale to an extent. I’ve visited, during the decades when the government wasn’t advocating for forced labor and citizenship licenses. I may also…”

  Fiona raised an eyebrow. “I smell a scheme. And I don’t mean you, physically.”

  “I still have a very small stash of gold I put there in a bank. I didn’t dare to make the trip before, but with Karlin there, I think it’s a matter of time before he figures out my passphrase for getting into the vault at the Cemari Bank of Vale.” he tapped the kiosk, and nodded satisfactorily. “Excellent work, Miss Revere.”

  “Why do you need me for this?” Fiona asked, an edge to her tone. She was ninety-five percent sure that Doug wasn’t in cahoots with the witch, but out of all her adversaries, Glados was not a dummy. Barry was desperate, which at least made his actions make sense, given what had happened.

  “Because I know culture and history. Vale, despite its government, is steeped in it,” he added with a click of his claws. If he was trying to hint at something…she was sold.

  She smiled faintly. “Don’t torch me or sell me to slavers in some absurd revenge scheme, sure, you can come along. I could probably stand to learn a few things about the country, considering I’ll be snooping to see whether this deal is legit, or another ploy of Glados. And, maybe, look for backup plans for Fiefdala.”

  “What’s this? Who stole our Fiona and replaced her with someone making plans?” Greg jested, a faint crease of a smile on his lips.

  She tapped open another compartment, one she had specifically asked Bonnie to add, and revealed her hammer, along with her armor set. “Just in case there’s some adventuring to be had on weekends…it’s best to go prepared."

  "You're forgetting your grappling hook," Doug added with a toothy smirk. "I would know first-hand of its effectiveness at catching small, mobile prey."

  "And pickle jars," she added with a grin. "Alright, let's go over the details tonight. We've got schemers to thwart and deals to make."

  Fiona, with a plan? Who knew?

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