The howling of villagers had pierced through the shambling woods.

With how upset they were, and their chasing, they might just as well have scared the noonday sun into dusk.

Crud! Those villagers did not have to punch your party an early ticket to Heaven.

Or Hell. You paid good money for your party. And getting chummy was not a part of their stipend.

You could only guess where their souls were laid after this mess.

At least they could have spared one maid... Another pair of fleeing hands and feet could have taken care of luggage duty… What you were able to grab with you before dashing.

Which was not a lot, really. There were the items on your person too, which still wasn’t a lot. Still. Still.

The clothes on your back, yellow crosses, a bell, your manual. But still—

Scratch that. Forget the manual.

Not when she had taken full custody of the thing. Good grief! It was just one problem after another.

After you had cut your pursuers loose and got your silken robe torn at the hem, she popped out of nowhere.

She pretended to hide her giggling, spying at the tattered inquisitor's gown flashing your hosiery-wrapped ankles. But boy, she was bad at it.

She couldn’t. Not with her obnoxious grin.

(cont.)