Page 168 of The Discount Damsel

She kicked him in the foot. “C’mon, get up. I know your spine must be killing you by now. And I already packed you a bag, so you have to come.”

“Do I?” he challenged.

Her fingers pinched into her hips as her voice quieted dangerously. “You can get up, sir, or I’ll hit every pressure point in your body and Dirk can float you out of the window. Your choice.”

Growling, the apprentice rose. Then stumbled forward, his good hand pressing into the base of his spine. “Hells of the deep, that hurts.”

“Told you so.” She eyed the box in his hand, brightening. “And good, you’ll need to bring a quill to write more spells for Dirk. Maybe two.”

Before he could stop her, Millie plucked the cherrywood box from his hands. She thumbed aside the clasp, opened it, and, finding no calligraphy supplies inside but rather an old piece of folded parchment that smelled strangely of licorice, she closed the lid, and tossed it onto his old folding table. “Well, no help in there. Ah, here’s a nice quill.”

She handed him the goose feather that had been sticking out of the suit of armor’s visor. Then she swung the knapsack she’d packed for him into his gut, forcing him to catch it.

With an aggressive smile, she linked her hands above her head and stretched. Then she retrieved her bulging suitcase, leaned to the side to balance out the weight, and herded him lopsided onto the western balcony.

Bradley glanced over his shoulder and the princess’s head at the box on the folding table, wondering if he should spare the second to grab it and bring it along, just in case.

“Your future is that way,” Millie huffed. “Now quick march or you’re getting bulldozed.”

With a small pang, the apprentice left the workroom behind.

Dirk had successfully excavated both the skiff and the tent, and now he was embroiled in a shouting match with the ministry official.

“Leave?” Sir Eustace blustered. “You can’t just leave with thirteen days left on the DDP.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m abandoning my princess. She’s coming with me.”

“Because how will the Heroes know where to go to challenge you and rescue her?”

“That sounds like a ‘them’ problem, Sir Eustace. There’s nothing in the DDP preventing me from temporarily relocating.”

The little man stomped his foot, the polished leather winking in the desert sun. “I demand a forwarding address.”

“So the Heroes can bother us while we’re on holiday? Absolutely not.”

“Then I’ll dock you points!”

The Great Red picked at his yellow claws as he pretended to consider the threat. “That’s your choice. This is mine.”

Millie grinned at the dragon’s sassitude. Waving, she called, “We’re ready, Master Dirk.”

“You, Princess, would do well not to encourage him,” Sir Eustace barked. “This reflects poorly on you, too, Your Highness. I have no choice but to put a black mark next your name. Should you ever fall prey to another kidnapping by dragon, your bride price will be reduced to twenty-five percent!”

“Ooo, what a steal.”

The ministry official sputtered, but no real words formed to convey his displeasure, his bafflement, and his general distaste for the unorthodox way both dragon and princess comported themselves. “Bah!” he finally conceded, stomping into his tent.

Dirk swirled up to retrieve his friends from the balcony and floated them carefully down to the sand below. The dragon tried smiling at the apprentice, but Bradley just turned away to store his knapsack in the bow. Dirk deflated a foot or two in altitude and clicked his front claws together.

Millie chucked him under his massive chin and whispered, “It’ll be alright. Did you get it?”

Dirk scrunched up his snout in obvious distaste and tossed a tin at her. “Gross, Millie.”

“Maybe, but it’ll be effective.” She secured the new tin in her suitcase, stowed it in the netting at the bow, and pulled a folded piece of parchment from her pocket. She smoothed it over the floor of the skiff, revealing a hand-drawn map. “This is us in the tower, and here’s Pierpont. We should travel as northeasterly as we can by skiff until we reach this canyon here. That will reduce your flight time, Master Dirk.”

“And then I fly us all the way to the sea and the library.” His yellow claw traced the path along the map. “Easy peasy, fresh and breezy.”

“Exactly. Now, anyone want some water before we set off?”