Page 24 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

“Now,” Hapi said, “something we should alert you to. We have our own personal quests.”

“Yes, Fen mentioned something about that,” Maxie stated with a bob of his head.

“Most of the time, we all say something to the group as a heads-up before splitting off. And by most of the time, I mean everyone but Mal does this.”

“Once!” Malfas protested with a pout. “I forgot to once!”

“That one time had me slogging through icy mud for two days in bear form, so I have no intention of forgetting or forgiving anytime soon,” Fenric said. “But anyway, if you have something personal you need to handle, just say the word. Don’t feel bad about it.”

A dark shadow passed over Maxie’s face. “I quite understand. I might need to. I don’t…know how to handle certain things yet.”

“It is not a personal failing to not possess all the answers when you feel you need them. This is a sign you need to gain more knowledge or experience on your journey. That is the very essence of life and the human existence.” Belstrom gave him another pat on the shoulder.

Rain cleared his throat and banged his empty wooden tankard on the table. “Attention, E.V.I.L.!”

“Fucking watch it, you muddle-headed pirate! I just fixed this table. I don’t want you breaking it in half already!” Malfas cried.

Rain stuck out his tongue at the warlock and continued. “Puppy has been with us for more than a week. He’s proven to be a stalwart mate willing to dig in, offering a helping hand when we need him. He’s also got some serious skills as a poisoner that could help E.V.I.L. straight to the top of the Villain List and is possibly a budding alchemist. What say you? Shall we make him a full-fledged member of E.V.I.L.?”

There wasn’t a bit of hesitation. Each member of their group tossed in their yea vote, bringing a sparkle of tears to Maxie’s bright eyes. Fenric might have felt a catch in his own throat as pride swelled in his chest. He had a good eye for treasure, and Maxie seemed to be a rare one. Even if he had been dug up from a graveyard.

“What say you, Puppy?” Fenric asked after clearing his throat. “Will you join our slightly mad, chaotic crew?”

“Yes! Absolutely yes! I vow to dedicate myself to being a valuable member of your team. I will become the most evil, dastardly villain there ever was,” Maxie swore, even as he bounced happily in his seat.

Malfas offered him a soft smile. “You just be you. That’s all that matters to us.”

Fenric nodded. “As a member of E.V.I.L., remember that you shouldn’t feel like you must handle your personal quests alone. Some of us are more private than others and aren’t comfortable sharing everything, which is fine. But if you want help with something, all you have to do is ask. It’s us against the world, young friend. And we will burn the world before letting a friend down.”

Maxie gave him a soft, heart-melting smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rain poured some wine into his tankard and shoved it into the middle of the table in a toast. “To Puppy!”

“To Puppy!” they echoed, slamming their own tankards into the center of the table with Rain’s.

Welcome to E.V.I.L., Maxie.

There was only one thing to do when you were low on funds—find someone who had money to burn and make them share.

Of course, part of the reason they were desperate for funds was that Malfas and Hapi were both low on ingredients for their spells after all their experiments and unfortunate resurrections. Money meant ingredients for magic. It also put food in their bellies. For now, experiments like yesterday’s blowup were put on hold while they focused on getting Maxie trained up on important things—like swearing and not putting more scorch marks on the ceiling of a rental house so they could get their fucking deposit back. Fenric felt somewhat safe leaving the lunatics alone at the house while he ran into Pomor for money and possibly information.

Fenric was still missing several pieces to his most precious treasure from his late mother, and their locations were unknown or difficult to reach. A thin tendril of guilt nagged at him for not telling the rest of the group about the items, but even mentioning them vaguely would raise complicated and uncomfortable questions he was not ready to face, let alone answer. They remained his secret until he had no choice but to tell the others, and regaining them was his sole priority.

Of course, regaining those stolen items was going to require money he didn’t have.

Wasn’t that just a constant state of being?

Money greased all the wheels.

And Ebeneezer Cartwright had more than enough money. The old coot was a stingy, slimy merchant who had made a name for himself around Pomor for charging ridiculous prices for his goods after driving away his competition through threats and attacks from hired goons.

The man had recently purchased a new bride more than thirty years younger than himself after his old wife suffered an “accident.” Fenric had even heard Ebeneezer picked her up from one of the local brothels. Not that Fenric cared where his shiny new wife had come from.

The important thing was that Mr. Cartwright had made a big show of taking his pretty young wife around town to flaunt his new purchase like a child in possession of a new toy.

Tonight, he was expected at a fancy dinner party in his honor at the esteemed Squire Blackfish’s house, according to what Fenric had overheard the squire’s stable hand bragging about at a popular ale house during his last visit to town. Fen’s crew had been in Pomor less than a month, and they’d quickly discovered Betty’s Brews & Chews was a hotbed of gossip. It took only a single pint to overhear some salacious and useful gossip about someone who lived around the town.

Fenric stared up at the imposing two-story house with its grey stone front, dark timbers acting as both support and decoration. Cartwright’s place was more than double the size of the house they were renting and twice as creepy, which was exactly what he’d expect for the withered old peacock. It was a hideous building with dark, soulless windows staring out at the street. Despite the summer season, not a blooming flower or green shrub decorated the place to soften its appearance. The townspeople claimed all the comforts and beauty Cartwright possessed were locked away inside the house because they were for his enjoyment alone.