Page 229 of The Discount Damsel

As Bradley and Dirk huddled in the kitchen archway, the princess went about making her calming brew in the most violent way possible. Cupboards banged. Tea and tisane ingredients spilled into the mortar. She beat the pestle into the mortal with the same fervor of a giantess at a butter churn. When she finally flung herself down into a seat at the kitchen table and took her first sip, the menfolk ventured closer.

Sip. Sip. Sip.

If the hot liquid blistered her throat, she didn’t notice it. She just gazed westward across the desert, towards Amberly. Slowly, the faraway look faded from her chocolate-colored eyes. She shot out of her seat and began to pace.

“Dirk, I need you to assemble the others. Fink, too. Immediately.”

The luck dragon zipped out of the kitchen, and Bradley took the opportunity to pour her some more tea. She took a large swallow and handed it back to him so she could keep pacing. He sat in his chair and watched, trusting her to unburden herself to him in her own time.

The others arrived after only a few minutes, Sir Roger hollering and swatting at the dragon. “What did I say about ‘sorta flying’ me anywhere ever again?” He rushed to the sink and dry heaved.

“Apologies, Sir Roger, but this really couldn’t wait.” Millie guided him to the seat she had vacated. Bradley poured him some tea into Dirk’s china cup. “Please, sit down.”

Pocket reached for her hand, gave it a squeeze. “What’s going on, bestie? I thought when y’all returned I’d be popping the last cork on my mead.”

“Just stay with me.” Millie turned to the old hedge knight who was dragging a cloth napkin across his mouth. “Sir Roger, do you remember what you said yesterday when you saw the Skybreaker?”

He collected himself with a sip of tea and replied, “I was confused what it was doing here when last I knew it was supposed to be headed north.”

“And it was supposed to be headed north months ago. In fact, it was shipped out before you were tasked to come rescue me, right?”

He nodded. “’Twas.”

“And you said something else. Something about oil. Why did you expect it to be covered in oil?”

“To prevent corrosion during transport. Don’t want those gears and such rusting and then not firing.”

“So why would that Skybreaker, the one we saw yesterday, not have oil on it? Could water have washed it away?”

Sir Roger snorted. “Nope. That oil’s made from pine tar and beef tallow. No water’s washing that away. At least, not so soon.”

“So why the lack of oil?”

“Laziness? A rush-job?”

“Or maybe it was new? And since Merle is only a stone’s throw away from Ashburnum and the DDP was rapidly coming to a close, they didn’t bother with it?”

“So if that one’s new, then where is the Skybreaker I saw in the castle before I was sent to rescue you?”

“Hold that thought.” She spun towards the frog prince in the birdcage. “Prince Henri, you said you battled ruffians in the Strip just to get into the desert. Did you really?”

The bullfrog inflated his throat pouch. “I said I did, didn’t I?”

“Pocket, would you allow me to borrow Fink for a moment?”

The pickpocket collected the ferret off her shoulder and handed him over. Millie flipped the latch on the birdcage and held the ferret mere inches from the door.

Prince Henri flattened against the bars on the opposite side of his cage. “What you doing, woman? Desist!”

“Answer the question truthfully, Prince Henri, and my hand won’t accidentally throw this ferret into your cage and lock the door after him.”

Fink chittered, squirming ferociously to get free.

“Alright, alright! I didn’t battle anyone; I slipped past them. But they were still there!”

“Who’s ‘they?’”

“I don’t know!”