CHAPTER 111 An Emotional Support Brownie

Henrietta

The kitchen-boy-who-was-actually-a-spy dropped his knife when he hit the ground chest first, the flautist-who-was-actually-a-slave-trader kneeing him in the lower back. The boy switched to screaming for help. He was dressed as a palace worker, and if anyone who wasn't working for the marquess had been around to hear, then he might've had a chance.

The screaming ended quickly when his captor pulled a bottle and emptied it out onto the boy.

The boy slumped over, asleep from the potion. I looked between the carriage and Knight Commander Havork.

"A hundred seconds," I repeated myself. If he'd known the answer to Gerda's riddle all along, then he'd already helped me once before. I was willing to give him one chance.

The knight nodded back almost imperceptibly. Louder, he called out to the flautist, "Are you almost done? It's past time we leave."

"I don't see you helping to make it faster!" The man lifted the boy by his shirt again and dragged him to the carriage. He ripped open the door, revealing a quiet and calm Bronwynn sitting on a bench against one wall. The boy was thrown haphazardly inside, and then the slave trader waved us forward.

Every part of me screamed to not get into the box … but I let Havork put me through the open door. He took a step back and was replaced in the doorway by the flautist. I resisted the urge to stab him in the face with my boot needle. Instead, I sat beside Brownie and leaned into her for emotional support. She wrapped an arm around me.

She'd always told me she loved her nickname because she was sweet, dark, and a little nutty. Her sense of humor did cause more than a few delicate souls to flinch. As someone who had a sweet tooth, I liked the idea of an emotional support Brownie.

"Now, don't make a fuss," the flautist threatened. "Or you'll end up like him. And don't bother screaming—the carriage is spelled for sound."

Then the door closed.

The light blinked out in the well-sealed carriage. It was great for transporting things so people couldn't see what was inside … or outside. I closed my eyes against the darkness.

One …

Nothing happened in one second. And though it felt like an eternity to go from one second to two seconds, it wasn't very long at all.

Two …

I felt the familiar, overwhelming terror seize my limbs, clawing at my senses and making my breath catch.

Five …

My heart raced. The pit of my stomach clenched until I tasted bile. I held it in, but the nausea swimming in my throat and pressing against my chin threatened to push me over. I lifted my fists and awkwardly pushed the one not holding the needle against my lips. The orichalcum metal of the manacles cut into my wrist.

Ten …

Why did ten seconds take so long? I leaned harder into Brownie. Somewhere far away, but right beside me, I heard a soft, "It'll be alright."

Twenty …

Someone climbed onto the carriage seat outside, rocking everything slightly.

I wanted to slide to the floor. I wanted to press my back against something and curl my knees into my chest. I wanted to cry out against the all-encompassing dark.

Thirty …

The carriage jolted and rumbled as we began to move.

I wouldn't even make it. I didn't need to make it. I had a weapon … and Revival potions worked if they were administered within eight hours of death. They would probably stop within the next eight hours and check on us.

Thirty-one …

A single tear burned my left cheek. I put my hands back down. I opened my mouth to do something. Scream? Ask for a song? Yes, I could ask Brownie for a song to distract me—

Brownie pulled away from me suddenly. Her absence almost undid me then and there.

"Brownie?" I called weakly.

Thirty-two …

Don't stop counting. I can't stop counting.

My manacles were lifted and fumbled with. Brownie swore under her breath.

Thirty-three …

It was useless. I'd already tried to break Veralyn's Enchanted Restraint Manacles with Strength, and two entire groups of Assassin-class guild members hadn't been able to pick the locks. It's why I hadn't bothered with the set in my hair.

Thirty-four …

Click.

My wrists were free and light. A weight metaphorically lifted off my shoulders as I felt my character sheet reinstate my stats. More importantly, my bond with Jacqueline became active again. I felt her sudden awakening.

Hmm… sweet? What have they done to you? How DARE they?!

I activated a title ability I rarely bothered using, since Jacqueline was more than capable of reaching me on her own. It cost a lot of mana, but nothing was going to stop me from getting out of this box.

[Do you wish to Summon your Bonded Sword: Jacqueline Tiamat la Fleur?

Mana Cost: 10 x Miles = 580 Mana. Yes/No]

I hit Yes. Power swirled around my right hand, and my wonderful sword settled there.

Jacqueline's voice calmed me. I am here now. We can cut them all. Just let me slice out their guts for what they have done. Bathe in their blood and drink in their death. The sunlight is close, just swing me.

Just let it go, my darling. Swing the blade, and I will cut you free.

Brownie whispered, "Ria?"

With just enough control left to not kill my best friend, I whispered, "Stay to my right. I'm getting out. I need out now."

The sharp tip of my sword pierced right through the wood of the ceiling and stuck out the top of the carriage, letting in splinters of dim light.

I activated [Bludgeoning Cut]. Jacqueline swung in an arc through the roof and down the wall. When I ended the cut below the wagon, I felt a portion of the framework give. I opened my eyes to the light, and I saw Brownie had pulled the spy boy out of harm's way.

The carriage shook violently as it started to sag, and there were screams outside. I started to fall forward, but my Dexterity saved me.

"Are you good in a fight?" I asked as I lifted Jacqueline back into position.

"I can help," Brownie assured me.

"Lift your arms; I'll be gentle."

Brownie closed her eyes and looked away as I sliced through the regular rope with my magical sword.

The carriage came to a messy halt as we prepared for battle.