It takes everything in Millie not to scream. Zoe Tempete. Here. Already. Covered in ruffles, with a bulky satchel over her shoulder and something strange and metal in a holster on her hip. A weapon of some kind?

  I have your fucking map, Millie wants to shriek. How could you possibly know where to go when the person who sent it to you is in Kirch?!

  Millie looks at Axel, who has said nothing at all. Axel, who speaks old Elvish and almost certainly nothing else.

  “No,” Millie says, to answer the Tempete woman’s question. She speaks slowly, trying to make her native tongue sound stilted and unused. “We have not seen anyone but you. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m…just curious,” Zoe says, and her gaze flicks around the hub. Her eyes shine with wonder. “I hoped, but I never thought…this place is incredible. I found a key, studied it, asked a friend what it could do, where it could lead…”

  “Caretaker, is there a problem?” Axel asks in their old Elvish. “Who is this new person?”

  Zoe cocks her head, lack of comprehension painted all over her face. “Oh. Shit. I don’t…does it speak common?”

  “No,” Millie says.

  “It’s amazing,” Zoe breathes. “The complexity of the design…”

  Millie coughs into her hand. “You said…something about a key?”

  “Yes. But it was taken from me,” Zoe says, clicking her tongue with annoyance, her blue eyebrows creasing into a frown. “Luckily, I was able to get in touch with my friend and ask for directions.” She pulls a large stone, carved with a glowing rune, out of her pocket as way of explanation. “I really thought whoever took it from me would be here. I don’t know how else the door in the passage could be open for me to get in at all.”

  Bitch. She has long distance communication magic? How is anyone of Millie’s station supposed to come out on top of anything when the high nobles simply get such things?

  “And what are your intentions, now that you’re here?” Millie asks. “Look for this thief? What will you do when you find them?”

  “Well, they stole from a high noble, they need to be brought to justice,” Zoe says, almost absently, as she drops the stone back into her pocket.

  And there it is. Millie clasps her hands behind her back to hide her balled up fists.

  “She might be a problem,” Millie says to Axel, in the oldest Elvish she can muster. Then, to Zoe in the common tongue: “Outside of curiosity, what else brings you here?”

  Zoe considers the question, pursing her lips. “I suppose I’m looking for something remarkable. Something that could give me an edge, make a difference in a way my father can’t…” Her cheeks flush a darker shade. “I suppose Hertarisian politics and trade wouldn’t mean much to either of you.”

  “I know nothing of this Hertarisia,” Millie lies.

  Curiosity. Something remarkable. Something that could give this Tempete an edge. Like what? What the fuck could she be talking about? The Tempetes run almost all of Hertaris’s trade in one way or another, they hardly need to push out any competition.

  Typical fucking rich person. Has to find a way to get richer. Disdain surges through every vein in Millie’s body, fueled all the more by each superfluous ruffle stuffed into her clothing, and the words they need to be brought to justice. Justice. As if high nobles have any idea of such a word other than stroking their own self-importance.

  “Actually, I’ll just check,” Zoe says. “I have a compass tuned to the key, so I could tell when the mail got into town.”

  Uh oh.

  “I’m sure you’re right that they’re not here,” she continues, reaching into another pocket. “But if they were able to steal from the mail cart they might have been able to sneak past the two of you.”

  The key is still in Millie’s coat pocket. If it were in her magical bag, it should be considered technically elsewhere and not show up in locative magic…but Millie can hardly account for everything. For another magical advantage paid for with money instead of skill.

  Still, this was hardly a ruse that was going to last long.

  “Well, it was worth a try,” Millie says, in her own higher voice and fluency, right as the needle on Zoe’s compass points right at her.

  It is all worth it for the look on Zoe Tempete’s face. For the way her eyebrows just about fly into her hairline. And for how she instantly reaches for the metal contraption in her hip holster, so she can lift it towards Millie.

  Millie jumps behind Axel’s huge metal body. Axel stays put, but their head turns all the way around to peer down at Millie in a wholly disconcerting way.

  “She is aggressive, Caretaker,” they say. “Shall I retaliate?”

  “Not yet,” Millie says. Having a high noble’s blood on her hands is not her preferred outcome. “But if she hurts me, throw her off the side.”

  Axel’s head swivels back.

  “Who are you?” Zoe asks. Her weapon crackles with lightning magic, a strange cylinder atop a handle.

  Whatever it is, probably not something Millie wants to be the target of.

  “Why the fuck would I tell you that? When you made it clear you’re going to bring me to justice?” Millie retorts, putting as much possible mocking into her mimicry. She sticks her head through the gap between Axel’s elbow and torso to get a view of the high noble’s fuming expression.

  Delightful.

  “Oh, also, I’ve told Axel here to throw you off the side of the hub if anything happens to me,” Millie says cheerfully. “So whatever that is, I wouldn’t recommend using it.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “You stole my key,” Zoe says, scowling.

  “Yes,” Millie says, matter-of-factly. “And?”

  Outrage. Pure outrage.

  “And—and stealing is wrong, and illegal, and it’s mine—”

  “See, you’re saying that, but I don’t really see how an old elven empire key could be yours,” Millie says thoughtfully.

  “I found it.”

  “Where?”

  “Well, I bought it from a sailor, who found it,” Zoe says. “He didn’t know what it is, and had no interest in finding out, so…”

  “So you didn’t find it. You bought it. Because you’re a high noble and that’s what you do,” Millie says, deadpan.

  Zoe glares. “Who. Are. You?”

  “You’re really missing the point. I. Won’t. Tell. You.” Millie straightens up and shifts to look over Axel’s arm instead. “We are at a fucking impasse, Miss Tempete, because I’m not telling you shit until I get some kind of guarantee that I’m not going to be in jail by the end of the day.”

  Zoe’s face shifts through about three different shades. Finally, she curses and puts her magical weapon back into its holster.

  “What kind of guarantee?”

  “Swear, on something I’ll actually believe you’ll honour—and good luck with that—that I will not see any physical or legal consequence for my actions today. No arrest. No shooting. No nothing.”

  Zoe stares at her. Her fingers tap on her weapon, while her mouth presses into a thin line. “…I give my word, on my family’s name, that I will not pursue any kind of retaliatory action against you for stealing from me today, nor will I ask anyone else to do something in my place.”

  “Tempete name honour,” Millie drawls. “Funny.”

  Zoe inhales sharply. A sore point? The noble’s fingers flex as she takes the time to slowly push the breath back out through gritted teeth.

  “I’m the heir to my house,” she says, more carefully. “I do not want my legacy to be built on blood and broken promises.” She swallows. “My word is what I have to give, and without it, you’re right, we’re going to stay stuck.”

  Millie holds her gaze for several moments. There is still a deep rage burning behind Zoe’s eyes, but it has a complexity it didn’t before.

  And for some absurd reason, Millie believes her. Besides, she still has Axel if needed.

  “Alright then,” Millie says, and drops her magical disguise. “I’m Millie. Not so nice to meet you. What the fuck do we do now?”

  Zoe offers no answer. Her eyes just run over Millie’s face, taking it in, and it might worry Millie if it didn’t incite some kind of deeper loathing inside her. Let her look. She’s made a promise. Millie can get creative with how to sow tales of an oathbreaker in house Tempete if needed; it will be easy enough with what Lord Tempete has been up to.

  “Caretaker, may I return to the garden, or am I still required here?” Axel asks.

  “Return to the garden, but if you hear me screaming, come running to help,” Millie tells them, and they nod once before going back to their pruning.

  And then, it is just Millicent Auclair and Zoe Tempete, standing on a path, staring each other down.

  “What is this place?” Zoe asks eventually.

  “A transport hub of some kind, apparently,” Millie says, and Zoe’s eyes light with intrigue. “But all the portals are inactive except that one. That one goes to East Feronia.”

  Zoe looks behind her to where Millie points to the other glowing arch.

  “But East Feronia is incredible, Kappelin has two different adventuring guilds and hundreds of merchants,” Zoe says. “The contacts I could make…”

  “It doesn’t go to Kapellin,” Millie says, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t recommend walking through it, because you’ll end up in the desert full of flying glass—so actually, nevermind, I think you should go through it.”

  Zoe scowls. Something about it sets the taste of something delightful on Millie’s tongue—sweet satisfaction. She got here first. Axel and the hub answer to her, not Zoe.

  “Anyway, Axel needed someone to be in charge of this place,” Millie continues. There’s no reason to tell Zoe any of this, but it isn’t as if Zoe can do anything short of murdering her to take the role of Caretaker from her corpse. “So I’m the Caretaker now. Magically binding handshake and everything.”

  “What—you?!” Zoe gapes at her. “You got here an hour before me. This is…”

  “Life,” Millie says, shrugging.

  “What do you even do, when you’re not stealing mail? What would you use a place like this for?” Zoe asks.

  “Well, I’ve barely had a second to think about it, so I don’t fucking know, but something more important than trade contacts, that’s for sure,” Millie says, crossing her arms.

  Zoe narrows her eyes. “See, now I’m just worried you don’t know how an economy works. If someone doesn’t organise trade, people don’t get the things they want—”

  Millie knows how an economy works just fine, she is relatively sure, but probably better to avoid being forced into an explanation in case Miss Tempete pulls out a bunch of technical terms and wins that round.

  So, she feigns a yawn. “Sorry, you’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a shit about what you have to say.”

  “Let me guess, you don’t have a job, you just steal things,” Zoe accuses.

  “Wrong, I’m a delivery person,” Millie says, which is somewhat true. She delivers messages. And packages. And sometimes, lunches. “And a student of arcane discipline. And a thief.”

  Zoe makes a ‘pft’ noise.

  They fall into another tense silence. What the fuck do they do now? Surely neither is going to be comfortable leaving the other alone here, and they can’t just stay here. But how can such opposed foes come to any kind of accord? Why would they even want to?

  Zoe turns on her heels and walks away. Millie is inclined to just let her, until she realises the path will lead her down and around to one of the buildings that Millie hasn’t explored yet. If the communications tower had magical chalk in it, what could any of the others hold?

  Millie begins following with quick strides.

  “Oh, can’t you just leave me alone?” Zoe mutters.

  “No,” Millie says. “Because you’re going to find some way to fuck me over if I don’t keep my eye on you. And I haven’t been to this building yet.”

  Shit. Millie regrets the words before they’ve even finished leaving her mouth, because of course Zoe’s eyes light up.

  The other girl breaks into a run. Millie sprints after her.

  Zoe might have a headstart, but Millie reaches into the potential and teleports herself ahead of the rich bitch. The sound of utter indignation from behind her is enough to set Millie cackling as she runs.

  But then Zoe murmurs something and magic crackles through the air. Slick, shimmering liquid appears beneath Millie’s feet.

  Millie’s midair foot lands. Slides. And Millie lands on her back, staring up at the sky.

  Zoe laughs now, sprinting up to close the gap, and the smug look in her eyes has Millie want to scream.

  She wants to play? Millie will win.

  Sitting up, Millie yanks her wand out of her sleeve and presses her thumb to the metal bead holding a simple sleep spell, moving the wand in quick movements and uttering the word to release the magic.

  Amber dust shoots out in a spray ahead of her. And Zoe Tempete hits the ground face first, fast asleep.

  Millie stares at the glorious sight of the high noble with her cheek pressed into the dirt, hair instantly mussed and hopefully her white shirt grass-stained. Then, she carefully makes her way out of the slick ground Zoe conjured and begins running towards the building now well within her reach.

  But the sleep spell doesn’t last long. A minute, usually. And Millie could make it so much more entertaining.

  Reaching back into the potential, and this time tracing a design with her fingers that follows the vision in her mind, Millie finds the necessary angles and anchors for a good illusion.

  A perfect circle around Zoe, where it looks as though the ground itself has fallen away, leaving only the long drop to the ocean below. That ought to slow her down.

  Satisfied, Millie now runs towards the building and begins to turn it over for everything of possible worth. It is a workshop of some kind. Tools, metals, benches. Millie determines there is little of value on the ground floor and runs up the stairs to the next level. She’s halfway through a personal library of artisan crafts when there is a shriek of fury from outside. Millie laughs, and hurries up to the top floor with the precious time she has left. The stairs take her to a locked door; it refuses to yield to her lockpicks.

  In any other moment it would be frustrating. But hearing Zoe moving around on the ground floor, new inspiration strikes.

  Millie hurries to hide in the perfect spot, and waits.