Priscilla only had one second to think as she stared at the man who could only be The Starving One’s Wolf who was threatening to unleash another blast of electricity directly in their faces, so she spat out the first thing that came to mind.

  “Oh, when you say Her Glory,” Priscilla said, wondering if Asha could help diffuse some of the energy if Priscilla managed to get her hand up in time in case this gambit didn’t work, “do you mean the glory of The Starving One?”

  That made the man pause, tilting his head in a way that reminded Priscilla of a predator whose prey acted in an unexpected way. But the built up magical energy that made it hard to breathe wasn’t released and he kept the club pointed right at them.

  “How do you know that name?” the Wolf asked, his words sharp like a guillotine blade hanging above their necks.

  Priscilla only allowed herself to swallow nervously once before she forced the tension out of her shoulders while she pushed herself into a sitting position. She gave the Wolf a smile like she was glad to see him even though she couldn’t hide her wariness completely.

  “We’re here to see her actually,” Priscilla lied, infusing her voice with confidence she didn’t feel as her heart thudded painfully in her chest from the excess magic in the air. She slowly stood, brushing off her pants like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  Though the Wolf didn’t stop her, the club remained pointed at her the entire time. Priscilla felt the weight of his gaze like a shackle around her neck while she adopted a slightly lazy posture, hand on her cocked hip and the other gesturing while she spoke.

  “Captain Azurin sent us into the fens because he has a message for her,” Priscilla said, speaking as clearly as she could so that Kavil and Sulaiman would be able to see the outlines of the web she was beginning to spin. “If you’re talking about Her Glory, you’re probably the man we ought to talk to if we want an audience with her – we’ve been wandering around fruitlessly these past few hours.”

  The club dipped slightly lower as the Wolf considered her words.

  “What’s the message about?” the Wolf asked.

  It was now time to make a hard gamble, betting their lives on Priscilla’s speculations.

  “Hey, Lala,” Priscilla said, glancing at Sulaiman, “you still have the defective stone right? The one that should have summoned toads for us and failed? Toss it over here, why don’t ya.”

  Sulaiman had just pushed himself off the ground into a sitting position and was staring at Priscilla with a stiff expression. The Wolf cocked his head as he turned his focus to Sulaiman. Priscilla was still in line of sight of the Wolf so she couldn’t even attempt to communicate, ‘Please just go with it.’

  Sulaiman eventually nodded slowly and then carefully pulled the summoning stone out of his pack. Priscilla can see the way that the Wolf recognized it by the way the man leaned forward in interest and some of her nerves loosened in her stomach. Sulaiman met Priscilla’s expectant gaze, the poor lighting of the fens casting his face into shadows as he said, “Catch.”

  Sulaiman tossed the stone to Priscilla in a throw that made it easy to catch it with her left hand, and Priscilla took extra care to not bring it near Asha as she tightened her grip on it.

  The Wolf tracked the object’s arc before he took a step towards Priscilla.

  “You said it’s defective?” the Wolf asked, sounding a little offended. “In what way?”

  “If it’s not defective, them I have no fucking clue what’s wrong with it,” Priscilla said, allowing herself to fall into the rhythm of spinning a tale. “We were promised that these stones would summon a shitload of toads. Yet, when the promised day arrived, it did absolutely nothing and our raid nearly failed because we didn’t have the distraction we were promised to have. So, the good captain sent us to figure out what went wrong so it can be fixed for next time.”

  Based on the slant of the Wolf’s mouth, the man was frowning as he took a few more steps forward, the edge of his club dipping a little further down. It took everything Priscilla had to not take a step backwards, keeping her feet firmly planted as the man held out his hand.

  “Give it to me,” the Wolf ordered.

  “I hope there’s no hard feelings, but I can’t,” Priscilla said, giving the Wolf an apologetic smile as she curled the stone against her armored chest. “I was given strict orders that I was only to give this stone to The Starving One herself, or it’d be my head on a platter. Orders are orders after all.”

  The Wolf’s gaze swept over the three of them once more and it felt more focused this time as he studied their dirty armor and weapons.

  “You’re mercenaries?” the Wolf said in a disbelieving tone that made Priscilla’s stomach do a jig. “You certainly don’t look the part.”

  Priscilla sighed like she was about to launch into an explanation that she had given too many times and was tired of beating the dead horse because it was bones at this point.

  “Captain Azurin got us in trouble with the fucking duke recently,” Priscilla said, letting the bitterness of an employee paying for an employer’s mistake creep into her voice, “so all of us have had to go incognito so we’ve ditched our normal armor and weapons so the noble’s dogs don’t hunt us down. The Captain sent just the three of us to go talk to your lady – the rest of our crew is stationed about a day’s ride away so we didn’t spook the locals into calling for the dogs.”

  Channeling her best villainous energy and ignoring how vile her next words would be, Priscilla gave the Wolf a cruel smile. “Good work with them by the way, they groveled so nicely with just one show of force”

  The compliment made the Wolf smile and finally, finally, the magic surrounding the club dissipated as the Wolf let it hang limply at his side. Priscilla could finally breathe and tried to not look too relieved.

  “It was all Her Glory,” the Wolf said, fanaticism dripping off his words. “She showed them how the world works.”

  “Where the strong eat the weak,” Priscilla said, echoing The Starving One’s philosophy, and the Wolf’s smile grew.

  “You’re the leader of this crew then,” the Wolf said, stepping forward as his gaze ran up and down Priscilla’s body, lingering on the bat at her side.

  “Yeah, these two are my assistants,” Priscilla said. “They’re here to do the manual labor while I’m the brains of this operation.”

  The Wolf glanced dismissively at Kavil, who had just pushed himself into a sitting position, his lip curling into a sneer. “Even that one? He looks about as ferocious as a rabbit.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Priscilla forced out a short laugh, reaching down to pull Kavil to his feet. She squeezed Kavil’s arm, urging him to stay silent before she dusted off his shoulders.

  “Vivi’s the one who first sensed your approach,” Priscilla said, drawing the Wolf’s attention back to her while Sulaiman stood as well. “There’s more to my people than meets the eye, Sir Wolf, or do you think I’d truly bring someone useless with me when I’m going to speak to one as powerful as The Starving One?”

  The Wolf cocked his head, considering her words before he smiled again.

  “There’s no need to call me sir,” he purred. “I am just my lady’s Wolf, though you may call me Beowulf if you desire to say my name.”

  Beowulf swept out his arm performatively, placing one broad hand, calloused and scarred, with fingernails that seemed closer to claws on his stomach like he was a butler leading a lady into a mansion rather than a monster infested swamp.

  “Please allow me to lead you and your people to my lady – night grows near and it is not often we have guests to perform for.”

  “I’ll be happy to, Beowulf,” Priscilla said, unable to turn down the offer. She tried to look on the brightside that they were going to be led directly to The Starving One’s camp, and might even be met with open arms if the Wolf was vouching for them. It’d let them get a good look at the defenses and manpower without having to rely on stealth.

  As the man turned around, gesturing for her to join him, Priscilla only spared one moment to reach out and squeeze Kavil and Sulaiman on the arm reassuringly before she strode to take her place at Beowulf’s side.

  Priscilla didn’t dare look back, lest she drew Beowulf’s attention back to them. She knew the Wolf was infamous for making examples of those he deemed weak and Priscilla didn’t want Beowulf to change his mind about Kavil. Priscilla heard them follow behind her and gave Beowulf a smile to hide how relieved she was that her boys followed her lead.

  “So what’s your name?” Beowulf asked, his club resting on his shoulder as he turned his head towards Priscilla. The fanatic was entirely focused on Priscilla and that’s how she wanted it to stay.

  “I’m Scylla,” Priscilla said, “like the legendary sea monster.”

  Beowulf gave her an appreciative look as he leaned in. This close, Priscilla could see beneath the wolf mask to see that Beowulf had glittering purple eyes that shone with a depth of madness that would haunt her dreams.

  “A man eater,” Beowulf said in that same purring tone and his gaze darted to her lips and lingered there for a long moment.

  Abruptly, Priscilla realized that the crazy, cannibal cultist, who had a thing for wooing vicious women before challenging them to a battle to the death, found her attractive.

  Oh.

  O-kay.

  That’s…

  Priscilla could work with that.

  She just had to match his crazy and make sure they never got past the wooing stage.

  (As if sensing what Priscilla was about to do, her bond with Asha filled with a feeling of disapproval. But Priscilla ignored the warning and just hoped that Sulaiman and Kavil wouldn’t judge her too much for doing what it took to survive.)

  “In more ways than one,” Priscilla said as playfully as she dared. Beowulf laughter had an edge of a growl in it and the way he threw his head back gave Priscilla a good view of just how sharp his teeth were. Priscilla could only hope they stayed far, far away from her throat.

  “You mentioned we weren’t the prey you were hoping to catch,” Priscilla said, fishing for a line of conversation that wouldn’t put too much of a spotlight on her cover story. “Is there any good game in the fens?”

  “A banquet wandered through our territory,” Beowulf said, “and while we’ve culled away most of the useless fat, the most promising one got away.”

  The Wolf smiled darkly, eyes gaining a glint of anticipation.

  “But I’ll find her,” Beowulf promised, his fingers flexing around the club “and the sacrifice she stole. It’s not easy for a fox to hide in the fens with hair as silver as hers.”

  Priscilla was very proud of how her feet didn’t trip over themselves and the way her interested smile stayed fixed on her face because she realized just what prey Beowulf was hunting had to be.

  It was Illnyea.

  This madman was hunting Illnyea.

  It was so much worse than Priscilla had hoped for but Priscilla held onto the single fact that Beowulf was actively hunting Illnyea, which meant Illnyea was still alive.

  Alive, with a child in tow she was sure to never abandon even at the cost of her own life, and having earned The Starving One’s ire by refusing to give up the sacrifice, which was something that usually resulted in public, brutal death.

  God of cowards, Priscilla thought, I so fucking blame you for this shituation.

  Beowulf abruptly looked back, head cocked as he stared behind him.

  “Do you have something to say, Lala?” the Wolf asked with a mocking tone.

  Priscilla turned, heart in her throat, and saw Kavil had a hand on Sulaiman’s arm while Sulaiman breathed in deeply as he stared at Beowulf, the look in his eyes promising death. His jaw was clenched, his mouth was pressed together in a sharp, quivering line like he was just barely holding back trying to tear Beowulf’s throat out, and his hands were balled so tightly into fists that his knuckles were stark white.

  For a moment, Priscilla is afraid that Sulaiman would draw his sword and strike Beowulf down where he stood, blowing the cover that Priscilla had carefully crafted for them. With the confirmation that Illnyea was already being targeted by The Starving One, it’d be better for them all if they could sneak into the camp instead of bumbling about for a few more hours and be considered hostels when they approached – and that’d be if they survived. Beowulf had proven he was powerful and none of them would be able to survive a direct hit of electricity, and Priscilla was sure Kavil didn’t have a lot of practice restarting hearts.

  Still, Priscilla let her hand fall casually next to her dagger, just in case the worst came about and they had to fight for their lives.

  But Sulaiman did not snap, instead swallowing harshly, making his Adam's apple bob up and down before he shook his head and looked down.

  “I stepped wrong,” Sulaiman said, not bringing his gaze up from his shoes, “and strained an injury.”

  Beowulf looked disappointed at that reaction, like he had been itching for a fight.

  Priscilla took the moment to jump in, rubbing her arm as if it hurt too and gave Beowulf her best playful glare combined with a bit of a pout.

  “You guys just had to choose to make your camp in a place that’s riddled with monsters, didn’t you, instead of somewhere nice and comfortable where we wouldn’t be plagued by pests while trying to visit,” Priscilla said as she crossed her arms in a huff and leaned into the Wolf’s line of sight. “A pack of wolves came at us out of nowhere and they were such a bitch to put down. It was like the nasty cunts just kept multiplying as new ones kept lunging out of the fog.”

  Beowulf smiled and thankfully resumed his place at Priscilla’s side, putting Sulaiman out of mind.

  “There’s a trick to it, you see,” Beowulf said. “The pack leader always hides out in the fog, always close enough to help out if another wolf is in trouble. So, when the first one darts in for your ankles, just wrench its jaw open so it cries and the leader will come running. Once you deal with the leader, the rest scatter like cowards.”

  The tone of his voice was light, like he was explaining nothing more than how to keep bugs out of your kitchen.

  Priscilla hid her shudder of revulsion by forcing another laugh.

  “It sounds like you’re quite efficient, Beowulf,” Priscilla said, finding something to compliment that would sound less like a lie. “We could have used tips like that when we first entered.”

  Beowulf smiled, an expression that was purely predatory as darkness entered his purple eyes. He was so much heavier and taller than her, with magic that could kill her in a second, and he loomed over her as he bent towards her.

  “Well, we’ll have plenty of time for me to impart my wisdom to you,” Beowulf said softly, like a lover’s dirty promise.

  The impulse to punch Beowulf in the balls while he was off guard was strong, so very strong that Priscilla visualized it perfectly, replaying her memories of when she had done it to Azurin and he screamed in pain. It would probably bring Beowulf to the ground and give Sulaiman a chance to take the man out while he writhed in pain.

  But her self-control won in the end, and only because Priscilla didn’t want to waste the element of surprise when she could instead give them a free shot at The Starving One.

  Priscilla gave Beowulf a smile that had fooled countless rich men at her parents’ parties into thinking that she was fascinated by them and kept them talking, talking so much that they’d keep digging themselves a hole they could never escape from once they shared the utter bullshit they were up to all.

  “I’m all ears.”