Lunaris leading the treasury party…

  The cart creaked to a halt near the Purple Auction House, its gaudy banners fluttering overhead like someone had tried too hard to sell purple as a lifestyle. Scamantha was sprawled across the treasure chest, grinning at Lunaris like a cat who’d just eaten half the kennel and was debating dessert.

  Lunaris swallowed. Tried to look composed. Totally wasn’t. Her knees were bouncing as if they had their own mana pool.

  Ian was right beside her on the bench, hands tight on the reins, eyes wide and—oh stars—he was making those puppy eyes again. The kind that said help me, I’m just a driver, why is my life like this. She wanted to pat his shoulder and tell him it was fine. It wasn’t fine. But it was… sort of fine? Because the treasure cart was still intact! Yay.

  Yuki was reading her lore book while leaning on the cart. Phèdre leaned just a little too close to him, like she thought she could ooze herself right into his lap.

  Ew, no thank you. Lunaris’ sword hand twitched, and she had to remind herself that stabbing her own party members was technically frowned upon.

  Technically.

  And Scamantha? Oh, stars above. She had just… roasted half the warehouse. Literally. With one snap of her fingers, and Diamond and Platinum squads went up like festival fireworks, except less festive and more screaming.

  Everyone else was still shaken. Lunaris? She was… trying very hard not to throw up. And also, at the same time, very relieved? Because… the treasure cart was safe. Mission intact. Go team??

  Scamantha caught her look and just grinned wider, like she could smell her confusion.

  Lunaris squared her shoulders, because someone had to look like a leader right now, even if inside she was just yelling what just happened, what just happened, what just happened on repeat.

  Scamantha rose from the treasure chest like she’d just had the best nap of her life, brushing dust off her leather trousers with a flick of her wrist. Carefree. Catlike. Completely unbothered by the fact that she had, five minutes ago, incinerated two whole squads.

  “Oh, Luna?” Her grin tilted sly as she leaned forward, eyes catching the light with a little glint that made Lunaris’s stomach knot. “Change of plans.”

  Lunaris’s pulse spiked. Change of plans? Already? She’s not about to blow us up too, is she? Oh stars, she’s about to—

  “I’ll blast to the vault from the street.” Scamantha stretched, rolling her shoulders, muscles flexing as if she were about to personally punch through walls.

  “But…” Lunaris’s voice wavered before she caught it, straightening in her seat. “The plan was to go inside together, and then—”

  Scamantha bobbed her head like a teacher humoring a very slow student. “Luna, you can take some random guards, no?” Her grin widened, teeth flashing, eyes all innocent mischief. “And the casanova here can help you!” She jabbed a finger toward Ian.

  “I am not a casanova!” Ian protested immediately, ears going red.

  Phèdre giggled melodiously, like she’d just been handed the funniest love letter in the world. Lunaris bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. She was supposed to look like a leader, not like someone holding onto sanity by dental floss.

  Yuki glanced up from her book, also giggled, and kept reading.

  A deliberate throat-clearing cut through the cart. The bronzie leader, armor scuffed, posture stiff, shifted uneasily before addressing Scamantha. “Uh, and we?”

  Despite Charlie’s very explicit order that Lunaris was in charge, every eye was on Scamantha. For a moment, Lunaris felt about as commanding as a sock dangling off her own cloak. She let out a breath and an internal sigh.

  Great. I’m the leader, but the cat who sets people on fire is the one everyone actually listens to.

  Fantastic.

  Scamantha sighed as if the whole world had already failed to keep up with her brilliance. The sound carried just loud enough for every bronzie to flinch. She planted her boots firmly on the cobbles, tugged her satchel forward, and gave it a fond pat.

  “I don’t like to explain my plans,” she said, clicking her tongue against her teeth—tsk, tsk, tsk—like a disappointed mother hen about to murder her chicks. Her eyes glinted dangerously… too bright, too hungry. “So listen carefully.”

  Lunaris froze, pulse stuttering.

  Scamantha crouched with a fluid motion, hands vanishing into the cart with a rummage and a thunk. When they reemerged, she was dragging a squat wooden barrel across the bench like it weighed nothing. The slosh-slosh inside echoed thick and wet, a liquid sound that made Lunaris’s stomach curl.

  “I found some very volatile powder,” Scamantha cooed, stroking the side of the barrel like it was a beloved pet. The liquid inside squashed noisily, the smell intense even from a distance, like sour wine left too long in the sun, mixed with something metallic. “Even better than nitroglycerin, hehe.”

  Her eyes went starry as she stared down at the barrel, and Lunaris couldn’t help herself. She gulped audibly.

  Oh stars. This woman is dangerous. Like… capital D dangerous. Why is she smiling at an explosive like it’s a basket of kittens?

  “Anyway,” Scamantha chirped, voice flipping from sinister to sing-song in a heartbeat, “the plan is to blow up the back wall!” She giggled, a sound that made the bronzies shuffle their feet.

  “But,” she continued, tapping one finger against her temple, “there are protection runes.”

  Her head tilted, eyes sliding to Lunaris with the kind of gleam that suggested someone was about to be volunteered for something regrettable. “So,” she purred, reaching into her coat and pulling free a vial small enough to vanish in her palm, “I need our fearless leader to turn them off.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The vial caught the light and shimmered faintly, liquid swirling inside like molten silver. Scamantha’s eyes locked on Lunaris. Intense. Unblinking. Expectant.

  Lunaris’s throat tightened.

  “Yuki, Luna,” Scamantha went on, tone light, “me, her casanova, and the flirty healer waltz in. We distract the guards, nice and easy. We need to reach the basement. It shouldn’t be too hard. Lucy said there’s a guard room the Queen passed.”

  The way she said guardroom made it sound like a cozy parlor instead of what it actually was: a nightmare box full of people with pointy weapons. Yuki nodded, but then went back to her book.

  Lunaris forced her head to nod, though her shoulders tensed. “But… that was the original plan?” she asked carefully.

  Scamantha tilted her head back and laughed, high and carefree. “Oh, is it? I forgot!”

  Lunaris exchanged a look with Ian. He was sitting so straight he looked like a poorly carved statue, hands clamped white-knuckled around the reins. Their eyes met, and in perfect silent harmony they both communicated the same thing: We have no idea what to do with this woman.

  Phèdre giggled nearby, like this was a stage play put on for her personal amusement. Of course she found it funny. She always found it funny, like the time she suggested drinking from that mysterious glass…

  Scamantha, unfazed, lifted the vial higher. “There is a control table in the guardroom. Just throw this on the table.” She tilted the glass so the liquid swirled in slow circles. “The runes that protect the walls will flip. Inverse properties. Weakened structure. They have contingencies for disabling, sure… but not for changing properties. Clever, no?”

  Her smile gleamed dangerously.

  Lunaris’s stomach did a slow roll. Throw it on the table. Just… casually toss the world’s angriest snow globe onto a magical circuit board and hope it doesn’t blow my arm off.

  Easy.

  Totally fine.

  Nothing to panic about.

  Scamantha pivoted suddenly and thrust the vial toward Ian. “And then, me and casanova go back, join the squad, and go with the cart to do Bang Bang!” She actually hopped on the last words, giddy, like a child promised fireworks.

  Ian’s face drained to the color of week-old parchment. “I—what? Why me?!”

  Scamantha winked. “Flirty healer said you’re cute when you panic. I add that also expendable.”

  Lunaris sucked in a quick breath. “He is not expendable!” The words shot out before she could filter them. Her hand even twitched toward her blade, like her body was ready to duel Scamantha over Ian’s honor.

  Oh stars, when did that happen? When did I become his knight?

  Phèdre clapped a delicate hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling. “Oh la la,” she murmured. “Protective Luna.”

  Lunaris wanted to groan. Instead, she sat straighter, trying to muster the commanding air Charlie always carried so effortlessly. “Scamantha,” she said carefully. “Ian is not expendable. And neither am I. We’ll get to the guardroom. We’ll disable the runes. And then—”

  She hesitated. Looked at the barrel. At the faint mist curling from the cracks in its lid. At Scamantha’s wild grin.

  “—you’ll do… Bang Bang,” she finished weakly.

  The bronzies shifted again, uneasy, but at least their eyes finally turned toward her instead of the alchemist. The bronzie leader rubbed at the dent in his helmet and cleared his throat. “So… us?” he asked again. His voice was soft, careful, like he expected to be ignored.

  Scamantha had already spun away, humming to herself as she patted her satchel, clearly done explaining.

  Lunaris sighed internally, the weight of command pressing down on her shoulders. Great. Queen Charlie appointed me the leader, but the pyromaniac gets the spotlight, not even Tramar, but the unstable alchemist…

  Fantastic.

  Socks save me.

  She forced a smile at the bronzie leader, even if her hands were clammy against the hilt of her sword. “You’re with the cart,” she said brightly. “You’re not bronzies tonight. You’re… Silver Flames.”

  The squad blinked at her, unsure.

  She raised her chin, mismatched eyes flashing with a stubborn spark. “Because when anyone tries to get our gold, you’re going to burn brighter than anyone else. Got it?”

  The bronzie leader’s spine straightened just a little. His men shuffled less. Someone even gave a tentative nod. Lunaris let out a breath, soft enough no one heard.

  Okay, maybe I can do this. Maybe.

  Meanwhile, Scamantha was still stroking her barrel like it was a beloved dog, whispering, “Bang Bang.” Lunaris swallowed hard. Oh stars. This is going to end so badly.

  The five of them set off across the cobbled street, the cart and bronzies left behind in uneasy silence.

  Sun blasted against the looming bulk of the Purple Auction House, its gilded trim glinting like smug teeth in the dark. Every step made Lunaris’s boots feel heavier, like she was walking straight into a dungeon marked Certain Doom, But Fancy.

  “Oh, before I forget!” Scamantha’s singsong voice cut through the tension. She spun on her heel and lobbed small vials at each of them.

  Lunaris fumbled, catching hers against her chest. Ian just barely snagged his before it hit the stones, while Yuki used her fast magic to catch it. Phèdre, of course, plucked hers gracefully from the air like it was a wine glass being handed to her at a party.

  “Drink this,” Scamantha commanded, already uncorking her own.

  Lunaris stared at the vial. The liquid inside shimmered a murky blue, fizzing faintly, as though alive. Her throat tightened. She glanced at Ian, and his wide eyes mirrored her hesitation. Yuki was blinking and examining the fluid.

  But before either of them could protest, Phèdre tipped hers back and drank in one smooth swallow.

  The both of them froze, waiting. Phèdre blinked once. Then her lips curved into a wide grin. “Oh,” she said brightly, “that’s weird.”

  Scamantha nodded, pleased. “Yeah. Bubble around your face. My invention!”

  Bubble. Around her face. Lunaris squinted. Sure enough, a faint glimmer shimmered around Phèdre’s features, like a soap bubble stretched impossibly thin. Ian sighed, resigned, and raised his vial. “If I die from this, I’m haunting her,” he muttered.

  “Me first,” Lunaris whispered back, and they clinked glasses like it was a toast before swallowing.

  The liquid tingled going down, like drinking carbonated lightning. A faint hum filled Lunaris’s ears, then—pop! A weightless bubble shimmered around her face. She poked at it nervously, fingers sliding right through with no resistance.

  Weird. So weird.

  They reached the Auction House’s massive main door, looming taller than a giant’s front gate, polished wood inlaid with ornate purple dragon motifs.

  Lunaris squared her shoulders, set her hands on the handles, and pulled. Nothing. She tried again. Still locked.

  “Watch!” Scamantha again sang-songed, bouncing forward. She shoved Lunaris aside with surprising strength, pressed another vial, this one glowing a sickly green, against the door, and pulled a long sock from her coat.

  A sock. She yanked it over her face like the world’s most pathetic bandit mask. Lunaris blinked. “Why… why do you have that?” she whispered.

  Scamantha didn’t answer. Instead, she pressed her palm against the vial, channeled a pulse of mana—

  And the world exploded.

  The door blasted inward with a deafening whump, splinters and smoke filling the air. The shockwave rattled Lunaris’s teeth and shoved at her chest like a giant hand. Scamantha went flying right in with the debris, whooping like she was at a festival.

  “Always, always wanted to do this!” her voice echoed from the haze.

  Lunaris coughed, yanked her cloak tighter, and bolted after her before Yuki, Ian or Phèdre could argue.

  The grand hall of the Purple Dragon Auction House stretched out before her, exactly as Charlie had described… except now it was chaos.

  Golden tapestries hung crooked from the blast, chandeliers swayed dangerously overhead, and polished marble tiles were cracked and scorched. The air reeked of burning varnish and alchemical fumes, thick enough to sting her nose.

  And in the center of it all, Scamantha was already tossing vials like candy at a parade.

  They clattered across the floor, popped, and released clouds of hissing smoke that spread in curling tendrils. Within seconds, the opulent hall began to fill with an acrid fog, swallowing the gold, the marble, the velvet-lined chairs.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” Scamantha bellowed, arms flung wide, sock still half-slipped down her face. Her grin was manic, eyes bright with delight. “This is a robbery!”