Another Pandemonium Wisp born from two-dozen dire-lycans brought Zilara up to level twenty-nine. Gains were diminishing. They’d need to move further up the route to find more efficient hunting grounds.

  “Okay, big guy. Let’s stop for the day. We’ll head back down towards the road and travel south to make camp. Hopefully, we can head back through the woods by week’s end.”

  “You’re just trying to run into him, again, aren’t you?”

  “Ah, I used to be subtle about this, didn’t I?” Jelena asked with a smile.

  “Indeed.”

  Jelena walked along a lightly wooded dire-goat path with an extra pep in her step.

  “Just got a little something to look forward to.” The relic thief smiled.

  She’d traveled for years with just droll old Enkidu for company. A heavenly lay, sure, but largely uninterested after that rollabout in the bordello. Their murderous relic thievery started as a way to make ends meet. It wasn’t meant to be some grand rebellion against the church. Now, though, Jelena was gaining allies at a steady pace, and even uncovering a whiff of conspiracy to unearth.

  There was Zilara, the mysterious holy child. Twinbrands in her eyes had extra subtleties relative to the average faithful’s Brand. No doubt a family heirloom, courtesy of being descended from the Cleric and Paladin. Old hymns said a pair of twins were cooking in the ‘ol baby furnace when the Ancient Heroes (and their army of Branded rebel humans) toppled the Demon King. Conceiving children within spitting distance of that miasmatic font of all evil surely had unknown effects. Whatever ill omens that brought, they were diluted through the generations.

  Zilara was good traveling company, for a twelve-year-old. Spacey and constantly talking about odd things. Still, the holy brat reminded Jelena of the orphanage. And with proper spoofing rings, their ever-growing motley band would be able to hide Zilara from the church indefinitely. Maybe. Hopefully.

  That brought Jelena’s thoughts, as always, back to Calaf. She’d made inroads into that gruff and disciplined exterior. He seemed ready to cut things off with the church and pursue his own path. Could that path involve a life of crime with Jelena? Maybe! Many maybes factored into Jelena’s future plans. Just probabilities and plan B’s all the way down.

  Now, if only she could get her other traveling companions out of the way and get Calaf alone for one to two hours. Jelena had been thinking about best to crack open that particular dire-egg. The pilgrimage path possessed no shortage of romantic vistas. It was just a matter of rendezvousing again, then finding the most secluded lover’s lane in whatever city they happened to be wandering through.

  It wasn’t a matter of belling a dire-cat. Jelena Turandot was a literal expert in the art of seduction. Her grand plan to gain a new traveling companion and bunkmate just needed one last push.

  The traveling trio camped by the side of the road between Granite’s Pass and Deepwood for three days. They passed by caravans and even church-ordained convoys full of armed guards. None noticed the trio, neither did they stop or question them. Zilara was still in her ‘Zelda’ persona, but even an implacably tall wild man and a cyclops with a Scoured Brand failed to alert attention.

  Were the pair’s wanted posters still up? Jelena was beginning to feel neglected. You go through all this effort to steal relics and establish a reputation as a gentlewoman thief, and the church just stops sending people to whack you! How insulting. Even that assassination arbiter only attacked because they’d been smooching on her turf.

  Maybe I should shoot up another cathedral again, Jelena thought, hands behind her head. That’ll aid in my infamy.

  On the third day, Enkidu spied a lone figure coming up the road from the south.

  “There we go.” Jelena hummed, self-satisfied. “Told you he’d come back.”

  And so, they waited. On foot, the path was a slow but steady one.

  It was evening by the time a familiar Squire in heavy armor approached. Jelena walked onto the path and waved.

  Calaf approached at a jogging clip. He had an extra spring in his step. Jelena’s heart grew a little warm as Calaf came into view.

  “You made it,” Jelena said. “Did you get everything sorted out?”

  The Squire nodded.

  “Yes. Everything is in its place.”

  “Good to know.” The relic thief smiled cowly.

  “Hoss,” came a voice from near a rocky granite outcropping.

  It was a quiet, wispy sound wafting down on the wind.

  “Hoss,” said the twangy voice, louder this time. “Hoss, dodge. Dodge!”

  Jelena glanced to her left, angling so that her good eye could get a proper gander. Zilara was there, peeking out over a rock.

  “You spying on us?” Jelena said with a grin.

  But Zilara only pointed at Calaf.

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  “Charm. He’s got a charm. Dodge!”

  Jelena contorted her spine into a circle as she dodged a jagged silver knife quick-drawn from Calaf’s inventory. She swatted the blade away with one fluid motion of her steel-lined traveling boot. Then, she leaped back in an acrobatic summersault.

  Calaf remained still, his heavy armor restricting mobility. A Plain Silver Knife of Apostasy-Slaying (x1) sat in a death grip in Calaf’s hand.

  “He’s got a charm!” Zilara said again.

  What Zilara could see, but Jelena could not, was Calaf’s Interface title:

  “So, you’re saying the Deaconess cast charm on him?” Jelena said, still unarmed.

  Zilara nodded fervently. “Yeah. Says it right there!”

  “Good thing my reflexes are still top-notch.” Jelena bobbed side to side, limbering up. “This is the age where you start getting back aches. Managed to dodge on instinct. Still got it~”

  “For the glory of the Church and Deaconess Charlotte!” Calaf declared.

  Again, Calaf lunged with his knife. Once more, Jelena sidestepped it and put some distance between her neck and the assassin’s implement through an acrobatic flip.

  No use trying to talk her would-be beau out of it. He was Charmed. It was a matter for the Interface, now.

  “Hey, kid. What’s the timer on the charm?” Jelena asked.

  “It ain’t got one.” Zilara shrugged.

  “What?”

  Jelena circled around as Calaf chased after her with a knife.

  Charm seldom lasted for long. Why, Jelena recalled a similar incident long, long ago. He ought to snap out of it soon enough. The status effect was hardly useful for long-term assassination like that. It was a Charisma-based ‘spell’. More for getting store discounts than a useful battle technique.

  “It has no timer! Must be some special church variant.”

  At least Charmed Calaf was focused on Jelena alone. Zilara remained on the rock, safe.

  “Figures they’d keep all the good tricks for themselves,” Jelena muttered.

  She stood her ground and, when Calaf lunged again, Jelena sidestepped and tried knocking the knife out of Calaf’s hand. In this, she was unsuccessful.

  “It’s like it’s glued to him,” she said. “Stupid Interface Inventory. It’s too hard to wrestle it away from him if he doesn’t want me to.”

  “Hey, Enkidu!” Zilara said.

  “What, no, don’t call him,” Jelena said, still dodging. “I’m not trying to hurt the poor guy.”

  A greenish blur dived over the rocky outcropping and down onto the road, cracking the stone pavement.

  “Enkidu. Stand down. At least stash the sword!”

  “The spearman has betrayed you,” Enkidu said, ancient blade pointing at Calaf threateningly.

  “He’s under a charm. That Deaconess must’ve sent him back to try and kill us. No stabbing, no injuries that can’t be healed.”

  “If you insist.” Enkidu frowned.

  Calaf charged. The knife hit nothing but air. Enkidu’s counterattack – a mighty kick – sent the Squire flying backward into a thorn-bearing shrubbery.

  “Is that sufficient use of force?” asked the wild man.

  Calaf clambered about in the bush. Jelena looked at Zilara, who gave a thumbs up.

  “Only scratch damage,” said the holy child.

  “Fair enough.” Jelena let out a sigh. “Just… hold him still. I’ve got an idea.”

  By the time Calaf clambered out of the bush, Enkidu was there to grab him and throw him to the road. The knife’s stat requirements must be out of a standard Squire’s range, He certainly was having trouble wielding it. Regardless, Enkidu held Calaf down and, with his prodigious strength, flung the knife forcibly out of his inventory.

  “Unhand me. I have been tasked with slaying a vile heretic by the amazing and beautiful Deaconess Charlotte herself!”

  “Just hold him still,” Jelena said, and approached.

  Well, Calaf was talking like he was back during their early encounters. He’ll cringe once he’s free, Jelena thought. She took her eyepatch off. This was going to be difficult, maybe impossible, sans Interface. But perhaps…

  “There, there, Hot Shot.” Jelena stopped four paces from Calaf’s prone form. “Sounds like your evil fiancée has put you under a charm. But…”

  Jelena closed her Scoured eye, moved her left hand up to her lips, and blew him a kiss.

  “… You were mine before you were hers.”

  “Seems to be working, Hoss,” Zilara said. “The Interface is swapping between ‘Calaf (Charlotte’s)’ and ‘Calaf (Jelena’s)!’”

  Only Zilara could see the internal changes occurring in the annals of the Interface. Only she could describe the effects to unbranded Jelena and Enkidu.

  For his part, their subverted Squire writhed about as Enkidu held him down. This ended with one loud groan.

  “Good to go, Hoss.” Zilara held a thumbs up again. “Charms have canceled out.”

  A church scholar would need to speak to the inner workings of competing Charm techniques. Zilara speculated that the combined effects were divided against the prodigious tank-class Effect Resistance, thereby rendering it easier for both statuses to be resisted.

  “Surprised that worked without a Brand.” Jelena had a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “Guess I’ve still got it.”

  On Jelena’s insistence, Enkidu laid off Calaf and stopped restraining him. The Shielder was left on his hands and knees with a dazed frown and eyes darting every which way.

  “Where am I?” Calaf asked.

  There wasn’t much tree cover or shade in the highlands. Before the Deepwood forests, it was just rocky crags and granite outcroppings.

  Jelena and Enkidu helped Calaf to a grove of rocks. This way he could get some fresh air to catch his breath.

  “Are you okay?” Jelena offered a hand.

  “The last thing I remember I was walking into the Pryor’s quarters.”

  “Oh my. You’ve been under Charm for days,” Jelena said. “That’s beyond anything the basic charm can do. I think mine maxed out at twelve minutes.”

  Memory would return in time. For now, they merely gave Calaf space.

  Since Zilara was the only member of the group that was Interface-compatible, she was the designated supplies carrier. She summoned Plain Canteens of Water (x4) from her inventory, and they shared some with Calaf.

  “Who knew a random Deaconess would have such a powerful Charm ability?” Jelena wondered aloud. “I feel guilty for letting you go by yourself, now.”

  “Hmmm.” Zilara pulled up background Interface info. “Sounds like memories should come back rapidly. It’s just a temporary discombobulation.”

  “Well, then, take your time.” Jelena offered a reassuring hand. “C’mon, you’re safe now.”

  Slowly, Calaf explained everything that had happened since parting ways. He’d arrived in Riverglen and investigated the local monastery. With his suspicions confirmed, he then confronted Deaconess Charlotte.

  “So, this Charlotte lady cast Charm rather than suffer the indignity of a breakup,” said Zilara with a sage nod. “Many such cases.”

  “More than that.” Calaf brought forth the Plain Silver Knife of Apostasy-Slaying (x1). “She said ‘Go forth and kill that desert-dwelling hussy. With her gone, there shall be nothing in the way of our love.’”

  Calaf spoke with his head in his hands, hunched over.

  “Charm techniques build up resistance over time,” Zilara explained. “It’ll be harder to get charmed by the same target twice. It’s not coming back once dispelled. You should be okay.”

  “You’re safe now.” Jelena offered her hand. “C’mon. Travel with us. Let’s get out of here.”

  A flock of dire-pigeons flew low over the rocks and shrubberies of their redoubt. It was the only other sign of life out here in the crags north of Granite Pass.

  The silence that followed Jelena’s offer was broken when Calaf pushed her hand away.

  “Don’t. Don’t come near me,” he said, and rose from his seat.

  “Calaf…”

  “It would be best to keep our distance. Just… let me be alone for a while.”

  With that, Calaf marched off in silence, alone, to the north.