It had been three days since I'd been summoned—three blissful, uninterrupted days without red portals, screaming skies, or sarcastic blonde women with summoning glyphs. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe the scroll misfired. Maybe the universe finally decided to give me a break.

  By the time I reached the meeting hall, the trade delegation from Namaru was already seated—two stone-skinned dwarves in ceremonial sashes and one tall woman who looked like her jewelry weighed more than her sense of humor.

  I was only five minutes late, which in mayor time translated to incredibly punctual, especially after being hijacked across realms to punch a dragon.

  "Mayor Nojin," one of the dwarves grunted with a bow of his head. "Shall we begin the talks?"

  I smiled politely. "Let’s. And before we do, I’d like to clarify that any strange smells wafting in from the well are entirely the gnomes’ fault."

  The tall woman sniffed. "We assumed it was a local delicacy."

  "It is," I said. "For gnomes."

  Yuuhi, barefoot as always and seated cross-legged at the edge of the room, gave me a bright wave. I didn’t ask why her hat was smoking. I didn’t want to know.

  "The water should be back to normal soon," she called helpfully. "Mostly. Probably."

  The dwarves exchanged a glance. The tall woman cleared her throat delicately, as if trying to exorcise the memory from her sinuses.

  “That is… comforting,” she said. “Though perhaps we should avoid involving water rights in the agreement until such… spiritual matters are settled.”

  “That’s wise,” I said. “We can circle back once the cheese clears.”

  One of the dwarves grunted something that might’ve been a laugh. The other opened a thick ledger and adjusted his spectacles.

  “To business, then,” he said. “Namaru is prepared to offer refined ore, fireglass, and barrel-aged duskpetal stout—our finest export ale—in exchange for a seasonal supply of your town’s bloomroot and arcane-moss resin.”

  The tall woman added with a faint smirk, “We’ve heard tales of how rowdy Graybarrow’s tavern can get. Consider this a diplomatic gesture... or preparation.”

  I gave a slow nod. "Ah. So you’ve heard the legends."

  The dwarf with the ledger chuckled. "If half the stories are true, I suspect we may be underoffering."

  "Depends which half you heard," I said, folding my arms. "Was it the night the tavern exploded because the alchemist’s apprentices tried to ferment lightning mushrooms, or the one where the villagers challenged a visiting envoy to a no-pants drinking duel?"

  Yuuhi perked up. "To be fair, both nights had excellent turnout."

  I cleared my throat. "Right then. Let’s talk numbers before the tavern earns another footnote in the international incident registry."

  We were just starting to haggle over bloomroot weight conversions when the air shifted.

  A low chime echoed through the room, followed by the familiar hum of something magical and deeply unwelcome. The runes beneath my chair glowed crimson.

  "No," I said flatly.

  The delegation looked alarmed. Yuuhi sat up straight, her eyes going wide. "Is that—?"

  "No, no, no."

  Too late.

  "I'll be ba—"

  The glyph detonated beneath me in a blaze of red, yanking me out of Graybarrow mid-negotiation.

  Again.

  The portal detonated in a flash of searing red and yanked me out of Graybarrow.

  ***

  I slammed into the ground with all the grace of a dropped sack of potatoes.

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  Snow. Great. Freezing wind. Even better.

  To my right, Kira spun mid-air and brought her blade down in a clean arc, slicing through a creature that looked like someone had fed a centipede to a wyvern and then insulted its mother. It shrieked and dissolved into a splatter of smoke and bone.

  "Oh good," I said, pushing myself upright. "You summoned me in the middle of an icefield full of centi-wyverns while I was in the middle of negotiations. Thanks."

  Kira, panting and covered in grime, gave me a quick glance and a crooked grin. "Was the negotiation trying to eat you? No? Then you're welcome."

  I glared at her. "I was this close to closing a trade deal. Real progress. Economic development."

  "And now you’re this close to being bitten in half," she shouted, ducking a claw swipe from another monstrosity.

  I groaned, brushing frost off my sleeves. "You have no concept of timing."

  "You have no idea how to shut up and swing."

  Another creature lunged.

  I raised a hand.

  It stopped mid-air—frozen in place by something far older and colder than the mountain winds—then crumbled to ash.

  I muttered under my breath, "I'm charging you overtime."

  Kira parried another beast with a grunt. "Do you always complain this much, or am I just special?"

  "I reserve this tone exclusively for people who kidnap me mid-negotiation."

  "Kidnap is such a strong word."

  "Summon, then. Without consent. During an active municipal trade session. So yes, kidnapping."

  She grinned, breath fogging in the cold. "Still, sounds like you're a little flattered."

  I obliterated a charging creature with a flick of my wrist. "Only because it means you have taste. Terrible timing, but taste."

  She laughed. A real one. Quick and sharp. "You know, you're not what I expected."

  "Demon mayor doesn’t paint a clear picture?"

  "I thought you'd be taller."

  I sighed. "Everyone does."

  Then I blew out another breath, my voice dropping into that dangerous, begrudging register I reserved for deep inconvenience. "Alright. Let’s get this over with."

  We fought back to back now—her dancing through the snow with crackling energy and steel, me moving slower, more deliberately. Controlled. Efficient.

  She shouted, "What’s Graybarrow like?"

  "Quiet. Until it’s not. Enchanted pastries. Floating goats. The usual."

  "Sounds chaotic."

  "That's after I cleaned it up."

  She laughed again. Then paused. "Thank you. For coming. Even if it was forced."

  I didn’t respond right away. Instead, I crushed the last centi-wyvern into frozen shards and let the silence settle.

  "You're welcome," I said finally. "Now, please send me back before my negotiations completely fall apart. Just the thought of Yuuhi leading it terrifies me."

  Kira gave a casual little salute with her sword. "Deal. See you soon, Mayor."

  "No—don't you da—"

  Light flared under my feet again, and I vanished mid-sentence, the word still on my lips as the world snapped back into place around me—right in front of the trade delegation.

  ***

  I landed exactly where I’d been sitting—right in the middle of my chair at the negotiation table, mid-lean, like I’d never left. The dwarves stared. The tall woman froze, mid-word.

  Yuuhi gave me a cheerful wave from across the room. “Welcome back. That took... four minutes?”

  I cleared my throat and adjusted my sleeves like I hadn’t just obliterated ice wyverns in another realm.

  “Apologies for the interruption,” I said smoothly, returning my attention to the ledger in front of me. “As I was saying, the bloomroot output this season may be higher than projected, depending on rainfall and whether or not the farmers stop experimenting with magical fertilizer again.”

  The dwarves, to their credit, didn’t comment on the glowing summoning glyph still fading from beneath my chair.

  Business resumed.

  It wasn’t until later, once the delegation had gone and the sun dipped low behind Graybarrow’s crooked rooftops, that Yuuhi found me leaning on the railing behind town hall, staring out at nothing.

  “You looked tired,” she said gently.

  “I fought ice wyverns. A lot of them.”

  She floated up beside me and leaned against the railing. “You going to tell me what really happened, or do I have to guess?”

  I sighed. “Her name’s Kira. Hero summoner. She’s fighting some war on a different plane. She had an ancient scroll to summon the strongest ally in a five-realm radius. Me.”

  Yuuhi hummed. “Not surprising.”

  I gave her a sidelong glance. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

  She smiled. “Still. You’re stronger than you let on. Always have been. That’s why I followed you here.”

  A quiet beat passed between us.

  Then she said, “You know you could probably break the contract. Overwhelm the link. Shatter it.”

  I nodded slowly. “I thought about it.”

  She waited.

  “But it could kill her,” I said at last. “She’s not built to withstand a backlash like that. Not if I fought it.”

  Yuuhi nodded once. “And you won’t.”

  “No. I won’t.”

  I looked down at my hands. “I’m not that person anymore.”

  “You sure?” she asked, not unkindly.

  “I want to help her,” I said quietly. “Not just because I was dragged into this. Not because of some old reflex.”

  Yuuhi’s smile widened just a little. “She’s funny.”

  “She is,” I admitted.

  “You’ve always liked the funny ones.”

  I didn’t answer.

  But then a horn blared in the distance. Not a festive one—an alarm. Low. Urgent.

  I held up a hand, listening to the tone.

  “South watchtower,” I muttered. “That’s the emergency signal for... gods, not again.”

  Yuuhi tilted her head. “What is it this time?”

  We rounded the corner just as a group of villagers came sprinting through the square—covered in vivid pink foam.

  A moment later, a barrel cart barreled (literally) past us on its side, trailing bubbling sludge and faint sparkles. A few feet behind it, two apprentices were shouting something about "cleaning enchantments."

  I sighed. “Experimental sanitation rituals again.”

  Yuuhi winced. “That’s what, the third time this month?”

  “Fourth,” I said grimly.

  The foam had begun to rise in the middle of the square, burbling like a cheerful swamp of artificially scented disaster.

  One of the dwarves from earlier peeked out a window, saw the foam wave creeping up the street, and immediately closed the shutters.

  I just stood there, letting the chaos wash over me.

  Yuuhi nudged me. “Should we...?”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “Let’s go deal with it before it fills the square again.”

  Because last time, it had swallowed two benches, a fruit stall, and part of the mayoral statue.

  Once we got them out, they were squeaky clean, though.

  So much for quiet.