“Catch your breath, but don’t make any noise,” Dreyvven said. He let go of the princess, confident that she wouldn’t run away, but keeping an eye on her all the same.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded. “Back to Vesaus?”

“No!” Dreyvven groaned. “Get it through your head: I’m not the Baron of Vesaus, I never came from Vesaus, I’m not Vesausian! I come from here, here in Perelie! I lived here all my life! I’m not a noble, I’m a thief, and a damn good one, too, so don’t go calling me a can’t hack it panty waist, mmkay?”

Raaline stood, glaring angrily at him. “How dare you lie to one such as me!” she fumed. “If you truly are Perelin, I will be your queen!”

“I can honestly say I can’t wait,” Dreyvven said. “You’re much better compared to that hack mother of yours.”

“How dare you—“

“You keep saying that,” Dreyvven interrupted. “Just shut up, will you? I’m not used to this sort of thing, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“You just endangered my kingdom!” Raaline said. “Holy Seven Gay Hells, don’t you know what those globes DO?!”

“Well, vaguely, yes,” Dreyvven said. “But they can’t do that right now, because they’re buying my life back.”

“You’re a greedy, selfish, loathsome little man and I hate you!” Raaline told him.

“Right back at you.”

“What?”

“Shh!” Dreyvven waved his hand before the princess’s face to quiet her. “It’s only five, still. We’ve got three hours. Can you be quiet until then?”

“What’s in three hours?”

“That’s not answering my question.”

“Yes, I can, what’s in three hours?”

Dreyvven shrugged. “I’ll tell you if you’re quiet,” he said.

“You little—“

“Ah-ah-ah!”

The princess glared at him, biting her fist in frustration. Dreyvven smiled, leaning back comfortably against the stone. “You’re really curious, aren’t you? Let me tell you, for one who’s going to rule my country one day, I could ask for more sensible behavior. You’re way too pliable. But that only helps me at this point.”

“I hate you!” Raaline told him again. “I’m going to scream, and let everyone know where you are!”

“Great,” said Dreyvven. “They’ll come running and find a dead princess, her murderer long gone.”

Raaline had nothing to say to that. She had taken combat training when she was little, but the lessons hadn’t really stayed with her. She remembered the moves, but they were out of context, and she had never been threatened before. Besides, the thief had a knife.

“Exauce. That’s not your real name, is it?”

“No!” Dreyvven said immediately. “Seven Hells, no! That’s the name of the drunk that sits outside the Green Dragon. Everyone calls him Sharky, though, so I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“Then what is it?”

“What’s what?”

“Your real name!”

“Oh!” Dreyvven said. “Accelerando. Dreyvven Accelerando.”

Raaline gasped. “I read about you! Your family. They’re Hellian thieves, aren’t they?”

“No, they’re dead,” Dreyvven said. “I’m only Hellian by descent. But I rule the Thieves’ Guild.”

“Oh,” said Raaline. “I don’t know what that is. I only remember that all of the Accelerando clan were executed by the Silvarielin King. They were all locked in a room until they starved to death or went mad and killed themselves.”

“Yes,” Dreyvven said through gritted teeth. “Thanks. Though it obviously wasn’t the entire Accelerando clan, it was pretty devastating, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring it up.”

“Were your parents the only ones that escaped?” Raaline went on.

“My grandmother escaped. And one other.”

“Your grandfather?”

“Haven’t got one.”

“Well, you must have one.”

“Must I?”

“Well, how was your mother born?”

“My grandmother impregnated herself.”

“She WHAT?”

“Mm-hm,” Dreyvven said, grinning at the princess’s dismay. “Same way I was born, and the same way I’ll give birth.”

“You’ll WHAT?”

“Well, I don’t plan on doing it any time SOON.”

Raaline stared at him in horror. “You’re…..you’re a monster!”

“That’s a crude way of putting it, yes,” Dreyvven said. “Don’t mess with me, or I’ll drink your blood and turn you into an asexual bodysnatcher! Mwahahaha!”

Raaline screamed. She screamed in a loud, high-pitched voice that would almost sound like singing if it weren’t for the absolute fear of it. Dreyvven’s smile vanished. He slapped Raaline across the face, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up! Shut up!” he hissed. He stared around wildly, panicking as candles flared to life in the windows. “You little bitch!” He pulled her bodily along as she struggled to get away from him, trying to scream through his fingers. He managed to kick open a cellar door and dragged the princess inside, blinking in the darkness.

Only two hours to go.

“Do you think he’ll be mad at us, calling this early?” Dessera ventured. The two were standing before a small white cottage just outside the wall. In the east, the sun was beginning to rise. Despite this, both men kept a firm grip on their talismans. Dakarra rolled his eyes at the guard.

“You are such a coward,” Dakarra told him. “No matter how mad he is, the royals behind us will be even madder if we delay. Besides, I want to get this over with. He approached the heavy wooden door and rapped it briskly with his knuckles.

Dessera caught his breath as the door opened. There was no one there. The two men looked at each other. “Maybe we’d better leave,” Dessera said quietly.

“No use standing around outside,” a voice called from within the house. “Will you come in, or won’t you?”

Dakarra took a tentative step forward, then stopped. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” the voice went on. “I’m upstairs. Oh, and those talismans stopped working when the globes were stolen.”

Dakarra hastily let go of the charm and worked up enough bravado to cross the threshold. He looked over his shoulder at Dessera, shrugging his shoulders to indicate that he was still alive. “I can’t hold the door open all day,” the voice said, sounding slightly more annoyed. “Come in, farmer boy, and be quick about it.”

Dessera started and hurried inside, gazing around fearfully. Dakarra shook his head at him and started up the stairs. “You shouldn’t frighten people like that,” Dakarra said. “How do you know where we are? How did you know my companion was a farmer?”

“I watched him grow up,” the voice said dismissively. “Never found nerve enough to ring the bell. You’re a noble, aren’t you?”

Dakarra reached the top of the stairs and looked back at Dessera, who seemed to be debating whether or not to touch the banister. “Yes,” Dakarra said. “My name is Count Dakarra Staccato. And you are?”

He turned into one of the rooms and found the owner of the voice. It was a man, young-looking, about three years older than Dessera, maybe. His hair was blue-white, and he wore a long coat trimmed in white fur. Blue symbols were drawn on his face, and when he looked up, Dakarra saw that he had shocking, almost electrically blue eyes. He sighed in exasperation and stood up, closing the book he had been reading.

“I am Lord Laiger Descant,” he said. “And you are trespassing. Albeit with my permission, but trespassing all the same.”

“We come under orders of the king,” Dakarra said.

“King who?”

“King Rosanaus De Crescendo of Perelie.”

“:Oh, that one.”

Lord Laiger Descant peered down the stairs at Dessera, who drew in a fearful breath. “Oh, don’t be such a pansy boy! I’m not even that buff and stuff.”

“Though you are quite tall,” Dakarra noted with resentment. “And cut quite the imposing figure.”

“Do you mean it?” Laiger asked. He turned around in a circle and batted his eyelashes at Dakarra. “I’m glad you think so! Hey pansy boy, get up here before I sick my invisible dogs on you!”

Dessera hurried up the stairs. “Invisible dogs?” he repeated.

“Oh, I was bluffing,” Laiger said. “But I do have a large collection of stuffed bunnies, which may come to life at any time.”

“Stuffed bunnies?” Dakarra repeated skeptically.

“Oh, they bite!” Laiger insisted, dead serious. “Now, I presume you’re here about those globes……”