Friedrich walked along the road, admiring the city gate before him. Guards wielding sharp spears stood either side of the raised portcullis and two bowmen stood atop the banner-draped towers. The red banners bore the symbol of a golden eagle, glistening as it carried a sack of coins; the symbol of Abnar’s Watch—the City of Thieves—one of the largest cities in southern Mercia.

  He gave one of the guards a small nod and was waved on through. He had seen this same guard that very morning and had informed him his trip out into the wilderness would be brief, for he had goblins to slay. And slay them, he did. The small smile on the guard’s face told Friedrich that he was glad for it, for goblins were a guard’s worst enemy.

  Friedrich looked around the flat-roofed buildings. They were built in the Asterran style, reminding him a lot of the buildings in Kai’roh, but with less protection against sandstorms. As far as Friedrich’s father had told him, Abnar’s Watch was once an Asterran outpost in Mercian territory and its ownership had changed hands over centuries. For now, it remained firmly in Mercian hands, as everything north of the Stride River was.

  The streets were bustling this late afternoon with the people eagerly carrying their market purchases home. The smell of earthy potatoes, succulent carrots, and sharp spices filled the air. Friedrich did not need to be in fox form to pick up on any of that, so strong were their scents.

  He walked along until the smell drifted away and he found the dingy inn his client used as a meeting place. He was an hour earlier than he had planned on being due to his deliberate overestimation on the time it would take him to reach and clean up the goblin camp. Thankfully, his expectation of waiting was cut short by the sight of the cloaked man in the corner.

  “Good evening, Friedrich,” said his client.

  “Good evening, Sculler,” said Friedrich.

  Sculler sat leaned on the table and looked Friedrich up and down with his shadowed eyes. His mouth curled into a small smile upon seeing not even the faintest trace of a cut on Friedrich’s face or a drop of blood on his armour. He gestured to the chair before him and Friedrich sat down. Friedrich removed the goblin king’s crown from his bag and placed it upon the table.

  “You are as effective as you said you would be,” said Sculler, cocking his head to the side and scratching his beard. “I’m surprise, if I’m honest. I thought you were a braggart, young man.”

  “Sometimes,” said Friedrich with a shrug, “but it doesn’t mean I don’t mean what I say. That said, there was a small problem.”

  “Oh? Pray tell.”

  “The king and most of his men are dead, but a couple fled down the river. You know how goblins can be when they see most of their tribe get slaughtered, including their leader.”

  Sculler waved a hand through the air. “That is of no concern. The job was to kill the king and put the fear of the hells into the little beasts. As far as I’m concerned, you did that. The crown is proof enough of that.”

  Upon pocketing the crown, Sculler removed a small jute bag from his cloak and tossed it onto the table. It hit the wood with a clinking thump and Friedrich’s eyes lit up at the sight of the purse.

  “One hundred and thirty-five kupons, as agreed,” said Sculler. “A steal for the boss, I must say. I’m surprised you did not negotiate for higher.”

  Friedrich felt a pang in his stomach at this comment, but he did not let it show on his face. “Yes, well, I thought it best to establish trust should there be any need for my services again in the future. Proving my reliability was paramount and if it means accepting a lower fee for the first job, so be it.”

  “Very good,” said Sculler, standing up. He shook Friedrich’s hand. “I will not delay notice of your success to the boss. Should we need of you again, we will send someone to your house. We know where it is.”

  “Should I ask how?” asked Friedrich uneasily.

  Sculler simply smiled and took his leave.

  Friedrich departed from the inn seconds after and there was no sign of the enigmatic man anywhere. It did not bother him much because every other person he met in Abnar’s Watch was either shady or mysterious. The city seemed to breed these people; it was the way of things. It came with the advantage of people being reluctant to talk to those with authority, making it the perfect place to hide from anyone seeking to return Friedrich’s father to Orion Tower.

  As the young man walked through the city, he had a smile on his face. It was kept bright and wide as every step made his kupons clink excitedly as though they were itching to be spent. Friedrich, however, would not spend them on frivolities or weaponry, for owning a house came with more expenses than he realised, not least of which was the taxes to the lords of the city.

  “Oi,” came a rough voice from the shadows as Friedrich cut through an alley. “That’s a nice little jingle you’ve got there. Mind handing over that bag of yours?”

  Friedrich laughed aloud and shook his head. “That isn’t going to happen, thief,” he said.

  “You would defy me?” asked the thief, drawing a knife and holding it out as he walked towards Friedrich.

  “I would,” said Friedrich without an ounce of fear in his voice. “Get lost or you’ll regret it.”

  “Why you little—”

  As the man lunged for Friedrich, he suddenly threw himself backwards. No longer was there an armoured lad standing in the alley, but a towering minotaur who stood several feet taller than him. Friedrich grabbed the man’s arm, snapping his elbow over his hairy knee, and then shoved the man aside.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  With a howl of pain, the man scarpered, leaving Friedrich alone in the alley. He transformed back to normal and chuckled to himself. He knew that he should not use his power to freely, but he was sick to death of being accosted by pickpockets, thieves, and the other ne’er-do-wells who lived in the city. This was his fifteenth encounter with one since he arrived in the city and his patience had worn thin. Besides, who would believe a lone scumbag that a young man could turn into a minotaur? The thief smelled of rum and it would be put down to a delusion by anyone he told, broken arm or not.

  Eventually, Friedrich laid eyes upon his own house. Sitting on the small balcony was a gold-skinned woman who looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. “You are back so late?” asked Teleri.

  “Late?” replied Friedrich. “I thought I was making good time.”

  “You are out of practice. Had this been three months ago, you would have returned an hour ago. Were you taking your time and enjoying the sights?”

  Friedrich snorted and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t see you fighting by my side.”

  “Yes, because you said you wanted to go alone. Do not throw that in my face, Friedrich. I would have been perfectly willing to accompany you, as you very well know.”

  “Alright, alright,” said Friedrich, waving a hand. “I could have been quicker if I’d ran across the land as a fox, but I’m tried of being cooped up in this city. I miss our adventures.”

  “As do I,” said Teleri with a sigh, “but we do what we must.” She looked wistfully at him. “Were you at least successful?”

  “In both the paid job and my own endeavours.”

  “And the goblin has given you no trouble?”

  “He got his moment of supreme victory over another tribe. As far as I’m concerned, his soul is mine now.”

  Teleri slipped from the balcony and landed between Friedrich and the front door. “I see. I will remind you again to be wary of attaching these beings to your body, but I know you will not listen.”

  “I can control them,” said Friedrich, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Please, trust me.”

  “If I did not trust you, I would not be here. Let us go inside and eat.”

  Teleri opened the door and she walked inside with Friedrich following her. Immediately, the smell of earthy vegetables and spices hit Friedrich and his mouth began watering. Marina hummed to herself as she stirred a large pot. Upon realising Friedrich was there, she looked up and smiled.

  “The goblinoid goblin-slayer returns,” she said. “Hungry, brave hero?”

  “Starving,” lamented Friedrich, sitting down at the table as Marina started ladling beef stew into four separate bowls.

  “Lord Gaerfyrd!” she called when everyone else was sitting at the table, ready to eat. Friedrich had to quickly put his spoon down, forgetting he was supposed to wait for his father.

  “My apologies,” said Lord Gaerfyrd as he poked his head out from his nearby study door. He sniffed the air. “Smells delicious.”

  He strode over and sat down, looking as ravenous as his son. Everybody tucked with the two men wolfing their food down quickly and splashing the broth all over the table, while Marina and Teleri ate more delicately. They exchanged a glance that was just short of an eyeroll, knowing that had Pheston been here, they would also be covered in broth from his own culinary collateral damage. Once everyone was finished, Marina set about cleaning up.

  “Sublime,” said Friedrich, smiling in satisfaction.

  “Hear, hear,” said Lord Gaerfyrd, looking remarkably like a goateed version of his son with the grin spread across his face.

  “You are animals,” said Teleri, looking at the table Marina was wiping.

  “Soon to be successful animals,” said Lord Gaerfyrd. “I have a new client primed and we seal the deal tomorrow morning. The Watcher’s Courier Service will officially have an employee who does not live under this roof.”

  “That is pleasing to hear,” said Teleri.

  “Almost as much as this is pleasing to see,” said Friedrich, reaching underneath the table and pulling his small sack of kupons from his larger bag. He tossed them onto the table, looking smug. “One hundred and thirty-five kupons.”

  “You took out the tribe and its king for one hundred and thirty-five kupons?” asked Marina as she rung out her cloth. “Oh, Friedrich…”

  “It’s about establishing trust!” he protested.

  “Trust that you’re a pushover?”

  Friedrich scowled and then looked to his father hopefully.

  “Well, son,” said Lord Gaerfyrd. “It’s very good for a single day’s income, but…you couldn’t have talked your way up to two hundred? It would be much closer to what your services are worth.”

  Friedrich transformed into a goblin before everyone and screeched before turning back to normal. “This was the more important task,” he said, insistently. “The kupons and dead goblins were a bonus!”

  “Next time, I am accompanying you,” said Teleri. “There will be no discussion about the matter. You will simply have to deal with it.”

  “If Pheston was here—”

  “If Pheston was here, he would laugh at you for earning such a paltry sum. There is a reason we do not let you handle our financial negotiations.”

  “Once he returns from Corobath, he’ll be proud of what we’ve made for ourselves since he’s been gone.”

  “That has little to do with the point I am making,” said Teleri, raising an eyebrow, “but I will let it go. I do not wish to bear witness to your huffing for the rest of the evening.”

  Friedrich knew rightly that he was too keen for his own good; it was far from the first time he had made a bad deal, but it was the first time in at least a month and he thought he had made strides in understanding the bounty hunting market he had inserted himself into. No matter, for he knew Teleri would keep him right as her stoic demeanour was often mistaken for reluctance to perform a job. This typically led to offers of higher pay.

  The evening moved along peacefully before everyone retired upstairs to their rooms. Thanks to the kupons Friedrich had planned to use to buy a boat, he had enough money to pay for an entire year of rent to the landlord, but everyone knew that simply coasting would see them poor before long. Lord Gaerfyrd had taken to setting up his business with Friedrich, Marina, and Teleri making deliveries on his behalf. Teleri proved especially adept at this before finding herself in hot water with the city guards for leaping across rooftops. Friedrich, however, found himself missing exploring the world. Since he began searching for his father, he did not realise how much he had enjoyed his time on the road and was growing restless. To remedy this, bounty hunting had become his favourite pastime. The fact that it paid truly was a bonus to him.

  As he sat alone on his bed, leaning back against the headboard and thinking about what tomorrow would bring, he found himself in a daze. Sitting on the bed before him was the spirit of Kitt, looking up at him. The young man was not sure if he was awake or dreaming, but it was not the first time the golden fox had appeared before him.

  “Is something the matter?” Friedrich asked the apparition.

  Kitt stepped forward and placed a paw on Friedrich’s heart before cocking his head to the side.

  “I am fine, Kitt,” said Friedrich, knowing what the fox was hinting at. “They will do no more damage than you have done.”

  Kitt looked at him sympathetically before fading away. When the spirit vanished, Friedrich felt as though he was falling before bolting upright. Had that been a dream? It must have been. He slid himself back down the bed and lay staring at the ceiling until midnight, thinking about the three foreign spirits his body was host to before he finally drifted off to sleep.