I sat at the tiny contraption that counted as a table in my room and glared out the window.

  I was at a proper impasse.

  I had a day off. Like, a real day off. Not a day in between working all night and going in the next day, causing me to spend most of my time sleeping.

  I had wanted to use today to go to the Library, or to visit Old Jenk again.

  Instead, I didn’t want it. I wanted to be at work so I could pick Vaarg’s brain.

  Because he was finally answering my questions. Teaching me.

  It was probably part of his plan to keep me working nonstop, I fumed.

  I wouldn’t put it past him. But it didn’t fix my current dilemma.

  I threw my hands in the air and stomped over to the window. The Library was in Uptown. Which would take me most of the day to get to.

  So that was off the list, because I would need a whole blasted vacation just to visit it.

  Which left Jenk. But I didn’t want to learn the sword right now. I wanted to find out why the freaking symbol was not a Rune.

  Agh, that settles it. I’m going to work!

  “Beeg.”

  I jumped out of my skin, spinning to see It of all creatures crawling out from under my bed.

  “It?” I gasped incredulously.

  “Yes,” he monotoned simply.

  I had so many thoughts going through my head, but ended up saying, “You can use the portal too?”

  It looked at me like I was a lunatic. “Of course?”

  “How? Didn’t Stupid make it?”

  Now he was looking at me like I had been clobbered by an Ogre and was suffering brain trauma.

  “She made the portal Beeg,” he sighed while somehow still remaining deadpan. “Why wouldn’t I be able to use it?”

  “I guess I had just… kind of thought it was unique?” I mumbled. “Made by Stupid, for Stupid kind of thing?”

  “Oh,” It blinked. “No, Beeg. Stupid doesn’t tend to do things with finesse. It’s all or nothing, just like her portal to Uptown.”

  Her Portal.

  To Uptown.

  By the Ancients - I was definitely going to work today.

  “Vaarg sent me because he knew you would want to work,” It said. “He says you’re not allowed in. Says you need your time off.”

  He squinted.

  “‘To Enjoy It’,” were his exact words.

  “That horrible monster,” I whispered.

  “You ok, Beeg?”

  “It… our Boss… is a monster. He turned a day off into a punishment. How? How is that possible?!”

  It blinked once. Then twice. Then slowly grinned.

  “Oh, that’s delightful,” he croaked, his graveyard tone not matching his expression in the slightest. “You act all surprised. Like you haven’t worked for him for a while now.”

  “Enjoy your day off, Beeg,” he said with a wave, turning to slither back under the bed.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  ___

  I sat there, staring at the hypnotic glow the eldritch portal leaked from under my bed.

  “Why couldn’t I have gotten a normal job,” I mumbled.

  Sighing, I slouched off down the stairs.

  Old Jenk it was going to be then.

  It would only take me an hour or so to get there. Maybe he could help me get my mind off of the raging vortex of arcane horror that was my life and job right now.

  Maybe.

  “Hey Mrs. Blurtz” I waved to the goblin Innkeeper when I got downstairs.

  She was my no-nonsense-yet-not-unkind landlady. She also happened to run the small restaurant on the ground floor of the building.

  I had yet to figure out if she lived in one of the rooms upstairs, or if she had her own house. Not that I had tried that hard, but still… I was curious.

  She quirked an eyebrow when she looked up at me. “It’s Bloortz, Beeg. How many times do I have to tell you. Bloo—oortz.”

  It sounded exactly the same.

  “Right..Uhm, sorry — Mrs. Blurtz?” I tried.

  Judging by her sigh, I did not stumble into the correct pronunciation.

  With an apologetic shrug I opened the front door —

  Only to come face to face with Mr. Mekopolis.

  Sitting on a stool. Regal. Dignified.

  As cats are wont to be.

  Flanked by two positively massive trolls. Naturally, they were also in top hats.

  “Top Hat Mafia,” I gasped, slamming the door and sprinting upstairs.

  I knew it. I just knew I forgot something, I berated myself. I forgot my bribe, erm, my peace offering for the dang cat!

  I scrambled to my window, where I had hung the roasted newt It had gifted me.

  Please, please, please let this work.

  I turned to leave and abruptly stopped.

  On the floor by the door, affixed to my shirt where I threw it yesterday, was my name tag. Still scribbled in pink crayon on dirty paper.

  There is no way that would work… would it? I thought. Supposedly it would open the greatest doorways and all that.

  Perhaps it also held the power to protect me from death by infuriated cat?

  I carefully attached it to my shirt.

  Once I was back downstairs, Mrs. Blurtz yelled something at me about disturbing the guests.

  “Sorry Mrs. Blurtz!” I called over my shoulder.

  “ITS BLOO-OORTZ BEEG!” She screeched. It still sounded exactly the same.

  I idly wondered if I could bribe her with a newt later too? As an apology.

  Steeling myself, I grabbed the handle and opened the door.

  Mr. Mekopolis hadn’t moved, nor had his trolls. I did notice one of the trolls had a monocle.

  I had missed that the first time.

  Mr. Mekopolis was casually licking his paw.

  The same paw that swatted the pigeon off the roof.

  As the door cracked, his eyes immediately jumped to my name tag.

  And then he scoffed.

  It was the most demeaning sound I have ever heard in my life.

  There goes that idea, I gulped.

  I held up the newt, a talisman to ward off great evil.

  Mr. Mekopolis’ eyes dilated.

  “Peace?” I asked.

  He flicked his tail. Not once did his eyes leave the prize. With a curt purr, he ordered one of his bodyguards — the one without the monocle — forward.

  The troll reached out, its fist larger than my entire head, and gently took the newt from me, cradling it in his hand as one would a child.

  I watched dumbfounded.

  Mr. Mekopolis held out his paw in expectation.

  The troll slowly moved the burnt lizard towards him.

  I held my breath.

  Then the cursed troll changed its mind, stuffing its entire fist — newt and all, into its mouth.

  My mouth dropped as I watched the troll groan in delight.

  Not one groan. Not two. It was almost disturbing the sounds coming from the troll.

  Then Mr. Mekopolis yowled.

  The troll froze, its eyes coming back into focus as it looked down, a look of abject terror dawning on its face.

  Without further ado, it hightailed it, sprinting down the street faster than I thought trolls could move.

  And Mr. Mekopolis followed.

  Meowling lightning bolts from his eyes into the troll’s backside.

  The other troll lumbered after them, one hand pulling a pocket watch from its vest, the other straightening its monocle.

  “I haven’t even gotten out of my house yet,” I whispered at the now empty street.