CHAPTER 42 My Date

CHAPTER 42

My Date

Brownie

Brownie was running down the hall, instrument over her shoulder.

It’d been one hour and three minutes since Rufus had walked into the building next door, and for an hour and two minutes, she’d simply gotten comfortable and practiced plucking songs in the window, staring outside every once in a while and craning her head awkwardly to see the Assassin’s Guild entrance below.

“Jack!” Brownie reached the spiral staircase and saw the human leaning on the counter and talking with the dragonborn. For an instant, she was torn, but then went for it and hopped the balustrade. The two below were the only witnesses to her exhilarating descent. Brownie landed on the floor and felt a creak. She waited a second to make sure, then stood up.

“Minstrel Bronwynn!” Amber gasped. Brownie couldn’t tell if she was impressed or offended.

Jack simply stood straighter and raised an eyebrow.

“You will never guess who I just saw walk into the Assassin’s Guild!” Brownie declared, adjusting her instrument on her shoulder.

The man couldn’t contain his curiosity anymore and broached, “Who?”

“Slake Drakeford, Adventurer Extraordinaire!”

Jack looked confused. “The grimalcat?”

“That’s right. I’m going to go—”

“ Slake Drakeford is next door ?!” Amber slammed her clawed palms on the desk, drawing their attention.

“That’s enough, Amber,” an aged voice spoke up from behind Brownie. The minstrel whipped around and stared at the elderly stable hand from earlier .

The drakin looked at Mistress May with pleading eyes. “I’m allowed to go look, right? I’ll just be outside. I could manage the inn and keep watch for Slake outside at the same time!”

“You can’t go running off every time a famous adventurer comes to town,” Mistress May chided. Her sharp eyes turned to Bronwynn. “And you should be careful of my inn!”

“Ah, sorry.” Brownie had the grace to blush. The old woman only came up to her elbows, but she was a force to be reckoned with.

“Now, run along to whatever spy business you all have. You’re taking up space in my lobby,” Mistress May announced before she tut-tutted and wandered down the hallway and out of sight.

“So,” Jack stated. He tapped a finger on his chin. “You’re sure it was the grimalcat?”

“Yes.” Brownie held back her annoyance at having to repeat herself.

“While I understand the excitement, I don’t understand why that had you racing down here,” Jack pointed out.

“He inspired me,” Brownie said, “and I’ve decided. It’s been over an hour; that’s too long. I’m going next door.”

“Lucky,” Amber sighed, partially slumped on the counter. She was taking not getting to catch a glimpse of the grimalcat pretty hard.

Jack frowned. “We have no reason to interfere in Dark Enchanted Forest business. If Commander Rufus required backup for his appointment, he would have asked—or sent a signal by now.”

“ You don’t have a reason,” Brownie countered, picking out a particularly perfect excuse. “But my dinner date is running late, and I’m going to go pick him up.”

Both of Jack’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes staring up at Brownie with a mix of amusement and understanding. “I see … Still. It’s not a great idea.”

Brownie walked toward the front door. Over her shoulder, she said, “It doesn’t have to be a great idea. It just has to work.”

“Your funeral,” Jack mumbled.

Brownie resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the man, instead turning back and delivering a broad smile in the doorway. “Amber, just for you, I’ll ask Slake to wander by.”

The happy noise behind her gave Brownie courage as she walked next door.

The Assassin’s Guild was two stories high and looked like an adorable laundering shop with a decorative oval hanging sign that read “Lucia’s Linens.” Delicate white lace curtains were drawn, blocking a surprising amount of the inside of the building when Brownie walked past the large storefront window. It was a bright and welcoming building, and not anything like the Assassin Assembly fortress in Peldeep .

“Are you here for shopping, miss?” the assassin, an elf with dark-green skin and rusty-brown short hair asked. He’d not moved from his place beside the door, simply running his eyes up and up at the half giantess as she approached.

Brownie smiled. “Actually, I’m here for a pickup.”

That got the elf’s attention, and he took a step from the wall. His hands were stuffed in his pant pockets, and she noticed his tunic was of high quality with some embroidery on the collar. Even when he came to his full height, which was slightly taller than your average elf, he was still only to her chin.

“And what, pray tell, are you here to pick up?” The cutting edge to his voice made Brownie’s heartbeat quicken … with excitement. This was the kind of setup she lived for.

“My date.”

“What?”

“He was supposed to be done in there almost ten minutes ago!” Brownie stuck out her hip and rested her hand on it, holding the strap of her instrument bag with the other. “And I am not a woman to be kept waiting.”

Of course, all of this was happening outside on a busy street. A few elves paused to watch the drama, while most continued on their business.

The elf assassin sighed. “You here for the beastman?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think the boss is done with him yet.” He glanced at the door to the shop and back at Brownie. “If you were smart, you’d come back later.”

“Any later,” she stressed, “and we’ll be late.”

There was a long pause, and Brownie was tempted for a second—just a second, mind—to give up the pretense. There was more than one way to get into an assassin’s guild, and Brownie was uniquely skilled for the task.

The elf opened his mouth to reply, “Meow?”

Brownie stared at the elf in confusion, but he seemed equally lost.

Suddenly, a voice drew Brownie and the elf’s attention to the shop, where Slake Drakeford sat at the threshold of the open door. He eyed the two of them, then reached up to rub his own ear with a paw. “Are you coming in or not?”