Bart woke early, the cottage still heavy with the quiet of an exhausted household. Despite wanting nothing more than to avoid the main room—where the reminders of last night’s horrors lay—he forced himself to face it. Better to tackle the mess now than let it fester.

  “What a mess,” he muttered, rubbing his face as he stepped inside.

  The stench hit him first, thick and clinging, as if it had seeped into the very stones. Grimacing, Bart grabbed a bucket and began the grim task of gathering what remained of Antonio. It wasn’t pleasant work. Antonio might have been a prat, but he deserved better than being squished by a demon. There was a moral buried in this somewhere—summoning demons may be hazardous to your health—but it needed work before it could pass for gallows humor. Jack and Tholomew could help him workshop it.

  They would bury Antonio’s remains on their favorite hill—a peaceful spot with a lone tree overlooking a meadow. Bart knew Tholomew would approve and even carve a proper placard.

  The demon corpse? That was goat pit material.

  Scrubbing a particularly stubborn patch of blood from the stone, he heard a sharp knock echo through the main room. Bart froze. No one ever knocked on the main door. Besides, the only visitors they’d had for months were Kleo and Jack, and they hadn’t needed to announce themselves.

  He approached the door cautiously, cracking it open and revealing two waiting strangers.

  The man was tall and ruggedly handsome, dressed for practicality but with an air of confidence that marked him as more than a mere traveler. A long sword hung at his hip, resting against his side like a natural extension of himself. The woman beside him was striking, her angular features and pointed ears marking her half-elven. Her sharp eyes took in the room with quick efficiency, lingering on the demon corpse before returning to Bart. To his surprise, neither seemed particularly fazed by the carnage.

  “Sorry to intrude so early,” the man said, his voice warm and unbothered. “Looks like you’ve had quite the party. Makes me wish we’d arrived last night—always up for a good time.”

  Bart blinked, caught off guard by the casual tone. He gestured toward the corpse. “Uh, yeah. One hell of a party.”

  The woman offered a polite smile, her voice smoother and more measured.

  “Pardon my husband. He hates missing out on… events. I’m Maya, and this is William—though he prefers to be called Will.”

  “You called him William?” Bart asked, curiosity edging his tone. “Is that to annoy him?”

  Will chuckled. “I like this guy already.”

  “Small pleasures,” Maya replied with a smirk.

  “I’m Bart. I live here with my brother and, well…, my brother, I guess. I was cleaning up what’s left of Antonio.“

  Will looked at Maya and back to Bart. “That’s unfortunate… especially for Antonio.”

  “Yeah. He was a bit of a prat though. Brought it on himself—”

  Then, despite the risk of it falling flat, “summoning demons may be hazardous to your health,” he said light heartedly.

  He felt deflated when he didn’t get the reaction he sought.

  Will only nodded in agreement.

  Well, he’d have to work on it. There was a joke there somewhere—he could feel it.

  “We’re looking for some friends—a young couple named Kleo and Jack. They’re the kind of folks who’d… fit right in with this kind of fun.” He gestured toward the demon’s corpse as if it were a centerpiece.

  Bart’s mind raced. He scratched the back of his neck, playing for time.

  “Oh, uh, a lot of young couples pass through here. Can’t say I catch their names—too busy in the kitchen. Cooking’s my thing.”

  Maya’s eyebrow arched. “You didn’t happen to cook for them, did you?”

  Bart hesitated, then gestured toward the dining room.

  “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll grab my brother, Tholomew. He’s better at keeping track of visitors.”

  “That’d be great,” Will said. “Bring a bit of bread and cheese, if it’s not too much trouble? We rode all night—hell of a storm.”

  “Yeah, we got it too. Lightning so close, I thought my hair might catch fire.”

  Bart led them to the dining room, his mind working overtime.

  “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll see what I can throw together while you talk to Tholomew.”

  Bart slipped through the kitchen and out the side door, hurrying toward the cottage. Stepping inside, he found Jack stumbling out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

  “Visitors,” Bart said, his voice low but urgent. “They asked for you and Kleo by name.”

  Jack froze, his grogginess vanishing. “By name? Who are they?”

  “Human guy and his half-elf wife. Will and Maya is what they said. Seem like professionals. Didn’t even blink at the demon carcass.”

  Kleo emerged from the bedroom, still shaking off sleep.

  “Will and Maya? Not anyone I know. Jack?”

  Jack shook his head. “Never met a half-elf in my life. Are you sure they’re asking for us?”

  Bart nodded. “Young couple. Kleo and Jack. And yeah, no reaction to Morghadus.”

  Kleo frowned, her mind racing. “All right. Stall them. We’ll figure something out.”

  Bart hesitated. “Where’s Tholomew?”

  Jack and Kleo exchanged glances. “Haven’t seen him,” Jack said. “Last we knew, he was asleep in that chair.”

  Bart sighed. “All right. I’ll get them some bread and cheese. You two figure out your story.”

  As he left, Jack turned to Kleo, his voice tight. “What do you think they want?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her tone grim. “But I’m guessing it’s not bread and cheese.”

  Tholomew had returned to his room for a quick change, re-donning his familiar cult robe. It was a habit he hadn’t yet shaken, though he resolved to try going without it tomorrow.

  As he made his way down the hall, he paused at the doorway of Antonio’s study, half expecting to see the priest studying his books. The office was quiet now, but the room still carried Antonio’s presence—cluttered with odd trinkets, stacks of notes, and an overstuffed bookshelf threatening to collapse. Tholomew frowned. He’d tidy it up once the main room was back in order.

  Crossing the great room, he winced at the lingering stench. Cleaning up the remains of the demon was the first thing that needed to be done, though it was the task he wanted to tackle least. Still, there was no avoiding it.

  He entered the dining room, surprised to find a man and a woman seated at the table. They both looked up as he entered.

  The man addressed him first. “You’re back.”

  Tholomew paused, puzzled by the statement. “I… am.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Did you find your brother?”

  Tholomew frowned, the question catching him off guard.

  “No, I expected to find him in the kitchen.” He gestured toward the door leading to the adjacent room.

  The man’s brow furrowed. “But you just went into the kitchen looking for your brother.”

  Tholomew tilted his head. “Oh. You must mean my brother went into the kitchen looking for me.”

  The man turned to his companion, baffled. “What am I missing?”

  The woman, suppressing a smile, let him flounder a little longer. “That is the man’s brother.”

  The man shook his head as though trying to clear away fog. “Wait. What?”

  “They’re twins,” she clarified, her amusement finally slipping through.

  A glimmer of recognition crossed the man’s face. “Ohhhh.” He nodded as if it all made sense.

  Tholomew offered a polite smile. “Correct. I’m Tholomew. The man you spoke to before was my brother, Bart.”

  The man nodded again, though his lingering confusion was still apparent. “Yes, yes. I get it now. Twins. It all makes sense.”

  The couple introduced themselves and explained they were looking for Jack and Kleo.

  “Your brother mentioned you might know where they are since you keep better track of the guests,” the woman said.

  Tholomew brightened. “Oh, right. Nice couple. They’re still in the cottage, sleeping it off. I reckon they’re tired after all the…” He gestured toward the great room. “…summoning and demon killing.”

  “Yes, I see how that could be exhausting,” the man replied dryly. “Any idea when they’ll wake up? It’d be great to talk with them.”

  “I can’t rightly say. They—” Tholomew stopped as the side door creaked open, revealing Bart walking towards the dining area.

  “There you are, Thol. I see you’ve met our visitors.” Bart greeted them with his usual cheer as he moved to the counter. “Don’t mind me. Just grabbing some bread and cheese for these fine folks. Thought I’d make some tea. Anyone else?”

  The entire table chimed in agreement, and Bart rolled up his sleeves, getting to work with the easy efficiency that always set him apart. The sounds of chopping and clinking soon filled the room as Bart prepared a modest spread.

  Tholomew settled into a chair across from the couple, relaxing now that introductions were made. “Well, if anyone knows how to wake them up, it’s Bart. Just wait till he starts clanging those tea mugs together.”

  The others chuckled, and for the moment, the abbey’s strange dynamics settled into an odd but comforting rhythm.

  When the side door creaked open, a hush fell over the table. Tholomew leaned in to get a better view as Jack appeared, looking worn but alive after the previous night’s chaos. His usual grin surfaced when he caught sight of Tholomew, a spark of his typical good humor peeking through his weariness. Kleo followed a few steps behind, her expression inscrutable, her blue eyes sharp and watchful.

  Jack, mustering a dose of enthusiasm, bounded into the room and rested a hand on Bart’s shoulder. “I hope you saved some for me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We know. You’re always hungry,” Bart said, his tone carrying a note of exasperation that didn’t hide his fondness.

  Kleo stepped into the room, her presence commanding attention.

  Will and Maya rose from their seats. For a moment, silence reigned as the two groups studied each other. Jack’s levity evaporated under the weight of the unspoken tension.

  Tholomew broke the uneasy quiet. “Where’s Bitter?”

  Kleo tilted her head toward the main room. All eyes turned to the doorway, where the wolf stood framed in shadow. Bitter’s lips curled back, exposing sharp fangs as a low, menacing growl rumbled from deep in his chest.

  If the imposing creature fazed Will, he didn’t show it. He reached for a chunk of cold lamb meat on the table and tossed it toward the wolf. Bitter snapped it from the air, swallowing it whole before sitting back on his haunches. Then, his posture shifted, adopting an almost endearing stillness, his amber eyes fixed expectantly on Will.

  Will chuckled at the wolf’s sudden change in demeanor.

  “Smart fellow,” he murmured, then turned his attention back to Kleo and Jack.

  “I presume you’re Kleo, and that would make you Jack?”

  The two nodded.

  “I’m Will, and this is my wife, Maya. Rugr sent us to find you. That’s why we’re here.”

  At the mention of Rugr, Kleo felt a wave of relief swell within her chest. Rugr is alive. But she didn’t let the emotion reach her face. Instead, she stayed poised, her stance rigid with suspicion.

  Jack began to speak, but Kleo held his shoulder, halting him.

  Will recognized the moment and spoke.

  “Bart, do you have any stone fruits on hand? Apricots or cherries, maybe? Or some jam for the bread?”

  Bart frowned, confused by the question.

  “No, nothing like that. I do have some apple butter if that works,” he said, rising to fetch it, but Kleo’s subtle gesture stopped him.

  This was code. Kleo’s responded. “I don’t care much for cherries—or anything with pits, but I always liked climbing the trees.”

  Jack’s confusion was evident, his brow furrowing as he glanced between them.

  Will and Maya exchanged a knowing look and nodded. The response was correct. This was Kleo.

  Tholomew and Bart, sensing they were missing something, remained quiet.

  Will tossed another piece of lamb on the bone to Bitter, who caught it midair before retreating to the corner with his prize. Then Will and Maya sat down again; their movements relaxed but deliberate.

  “Bart, would you mind bringing more tea? Jack and Kleo look like they could use something to eat. We can talk while we dine.”

  Bart brightened at the task and hurried out of the room, already thinking about tea pairings. He decided to bring the apple butter, just in case.

  Will gestured for Kleo and Jack to take seats. Jack dropped into a chair without hesitation, eagerly helping himself to what food remained.

  Kleo, slower to sit, finally eased into her chair, her posture stiff but no longer hostile.

  “How is Rugr?”

  Will leaned back, smiling. “Rugr is Rugr. The man never seems to change.”

  Kleo allowed herself the smallest of smiles. “Where is he?”

  “We met him in Ilimar,” Will explained. “Maya keeps a house there, and I use the city as a base between jobs. Rugr found us there.”

  “Why did he send you?”

  Kleo’s tone was even, but her sharp gaze left no room for evasion.

  Will glanced at Tholomew before continuing. Kleo noticed and waved dismissively.

  “It’s fine. Jack and I trust the brothers.”

  Jack grinned and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Will hesitated before answering.

  “Rugr thought you might be heading to Ilimar. He seemed concerned about dangers—on the road or in the city. He said you might not see them coming until it was too late.”

  Kleo considered this, her expression unreadable. The idea unsettled her. What dangers could she be blind to? Rugr’s concerns carried weight, but uncertainty gnawed at her.

  “The plan was for us to find and guide you on a safer route. He suggested heading north to avoid Ilimar altogether. And while we’re with you, provide any training or support you might need.”

  Jack, who had been listening, perked up. “What kind of training?”

  Will shrugged. “Whatever you need. I’ve got experience with weapons and tactics. Maya is a skilled magic practitioner with some specialties that might come in handy.”

  Kleo’s eyes narrowed, her expression betraying nothing as she scrutinized them. Will noted her wariness but said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

  Maya broke the silence, but Kleo cut her off.

  “I’ve read your book. The Origins of Magic, wasn’t it?”

  Maya blinked, startled. “You’ve read my book? There were only ten copies made.”

  Kleo nodded. “Two years ago. It was a gift from Rugr. Interesting, but it lacked details.”

  Maya, recovering, managed a small smile.

  “It was introductory. I’ve been working on something more advanced, but I imagine it’ll have to wait—seeing as we’re away.”

  Kleo leaned forward, addressing Will, her tone sharp.

  “What’s in this for you? Helping us, I mean. Money?”

  Will nodded. “That’s part of it. Rugr asked, though, and I owe him more than a little.”

  Kleo’s sharp gaze shifted to Maya. “And you?”

  Maya hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “You.”

  The word hung in the air, heavy with implication. Kleo’s eyes flicked between them, searching for hidden motives, but neither offered more.

  Jack broke the silence, the tension hanging over the room like a heavy cloud. Breakfast, he thought, should be lighter, even fun.

  “Are you guys talking about Kull magic? I have Kull magic.”

  Time seemed to slow as every pair of eyes turned to him. Maya’s teacup slipped from her trembling fingers, shattering against the stone floor with a sharp crash. The fragments scattered, tinkling brightly in the stunned silence. Maya’s wide-eyed and slack-jawed expression betrayed a rare and genuine astonishment.

  “What?” Jack asked, clueless about the weight of what he had revealed.

  Kleo groaned, her whisper cutting through the tension like a razor.

  “Not now, Jack.”

  “Okay,” Jack mumbled, confused and a little hurt but willing to drop it.

  Maya’s hands shook as she crouched, reaching for the more significant shards of her cup. Her mind raced. What trickery is this? she thought. The man couldn’t possibly have Kull magic. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be possible.

  “Don’t worry about the cup, ma’am,” Tholomew said, crouching to help her. “Given the state of the main hall, a broken teacup’s pretty low on the list of things we need to clean up.”

  Maya barely registered his words, her thoughts spinning wildly. Kull magic? From him? It was as if the world had turned upside down.

  Will, watching her, stepped in. He had rarely seen her so shaken.

  Keeping his tone calm but firm, Will addressed Kleo.

  “We need to head north. If we were able to find you, then anyone else could. After last night’s light show, I’m sure everyone in Midena’s talking. It’s not like they have much else to gossip about.”

  Kleo’s voice cut through, firm and commanding. “We’re going south.”

  Will’s jaw tightened. “We should go north. Rugr’s instructions were clear.”

  Jack, his demeanor shifting to match Kleo’s, met Will’s gaze.

  “She said we’re going south. If you want to go north, be our guests. We’re going south. Today.”

  Will and Maya exchanged glances, their silent communication honed by years of partnership. Finally, Will relented with a resigned sigh.

  “I see. South it is, then. Care to clue us in on why South is now the destination of choice?”

  Jack and Kleo shared a look of their own. Jack answered, his tone clipped but resolute.

  “We have our reasons. That’ll have to be enough for now.”

  Will ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. “Maya, remind me to say ‘no’ the next time Rugr asks me for a favor.”

  Maya’s lips curved into a faint smile, the tremor in her hands subsiding. “I will, William. But somehow, the word ‘yes’ will come out instead.”

  Will shook his head. “These two are going to be a handful.”

  As if to prove his point, Jack’s expression brightened, his cheerful demeanor snapping back into place.

  “Kleo, do you think I have time to show Will the goat pit?”

  Kleo pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a slow, deliberate breath.

  Will chuckled despite himself. “I’d like to see that,” he said, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is it a hole in the ground where you throw dead goat carcasses?”

  Jack’s excited face turned to one of disappointment. “Basically”

  Maya rolled her eyes but found herself smiling. A handful, indeed.