Chapter 36: Cousin

  Syril had his wits about him enough to cast a cantrip and clean himself up before moving into the room, his disdain for a mess overcoming his deep existential dread. He wasn’t however, up to talking to the Count at that moment.

  “Ah, my champions,” the Count said, rising to greet them. “Sorry to keep you waiting, I had a dignitary from the Duke visiting. While tariffs on his wool exports aren’t the most exciting topic, I couldn’t very well ask him to leave.”

  Bill flinched slightly at that and rubbed his ear.

  All eyes turned to Syril, expecting him to speak, but he was staring off into the middle distance, seemingly unaware of their situation as he pondered the meaning of existence.

  “Think nothing of it,” Ellen said, when she realized no one else was going to speak.

  “I hear that you have been making something of a name for yourselves lately in helping the poorer folk of my city,” the Count said.

  “Yes,” Bill said. “There has been a rash of missing people, and we are trying to get to the bottom of it.”

  “Ah, how noble,” the Count said. “It is a shame. I do have some of my men looking into the matter but so far have not been able to find the source of these. I had hoped the vampire you slew had been the culprit, but it appears that the disappearances continue.”

  “Is that why you summoned us today?” Ellen asked?

  “No, no,” the Count said. “While I appreciate that work, I have another task I must ask of you. My guards have uncovered a depot used for the storing and distribution of dust and the trafficking of people. Their information suggests that the guard presence on the building is more than my men can handle, and I wanted to request you assist in the raid.”

  “Of course—” Bill began, but Ellen cut him off.

  “What’s the pay?”

  The Count smiled.

  “You can have first pick of the non-illicit items within the warehouse, or a fair percentage of any claimed gold. You can decide after a full accounting has been made.”

  “How big is the expected haul?” Grom asked.

  “Large,” the Count said.

  The Count then gave them the details of when to be ready and dismissed the group with a wave.

  On the way out, the doors to the waiting chamber opened and another group of adventurers—evident by the armor and weapons they bore in the Count’s presence and mismatched nature of their gear—walked in.

  “Why didn’t they have to wait?” Grom asked to the group.

  Ellen let out a quiet gasp.

  “Bitch.”

  As if summoned by the word, the sole female figure in the group, dressed in a wizard’s robe tailored to accentuate her form—unlike Ellen’s baggy loose fitting robe that completely disguised her own—saw Ellen and her face lit up. Where Ellen put in the bare minimum into her appearance to not look homeless, every detail of the appearance of this other wizard was seen to. Not a stray hair floated free of her bun, her white and gold robe was perfectly pressed, and she carried herself confidently, while Ellen’s hair was falling out of a days old pony tail, her robes were covered in stains and burns, and she walked as if deep in thought.

  The two women’s features were remarkably similar if you could look past their… well, appearances. While Ellen had plain brown hair in need of a good wash, her cousin’s was brown with cosmetically added highlights, her hair shining with a mirror sheen as if it’d just been washed and combed for hours.

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  While Ellen’s face was unadorned by paints and powders—save for a spot of ink by her lip where she chewed a quill, her cousin’s was flawless, perfectly presentable and accented by a variety of make ups.

  Syril looked between the two, squinting. He thought they looked similar, but his brain was struggling to parse that. Ellen’s cousin was simply breathtaking, while Ellen was—well—Ellen. While his eyes said they had identical facial features, his brain, heart, and other parts of his anatomy couldn’t accept it.

  “Ellen!” the female wizard said, lifting her arms in excitement for a huge.

  “Elsey,” Ellen said, with far less exuberance.

  She walked to meet her cousin, holding her arms at her sides, resigned to the hug.

  “Where have you been?” Elsey asked, breaking from the hug and looking her up and down.

  “And what are you wearing? Everyone has been looking for you.”

  “I’ve studying at the mage college,” Ellen said. “And… adventuring.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Elsey said. “Yet another thing we have in common! Is this your party? I’m Elsey! Where’s grandf—”

  “Ehem,” the Count’s servant said from next to the count at the dais.

  “Oh, my apologies my Lord Count,” Elsey said, giving a deep curtsey. “This is my cousin Phellena who has long been missing from our home. I couldn’t contain myself upon the sight of her. I hope you can forgive me.”

  The Count gave a nod, acknowledging the error in decorum, but the silence that followed strongly suggested the reunion be tabled for another time.

  “I’ll come find you after this,” Elsey whispered, giving one more quick hug.

  The four left, no one saying a word until they were outside the Count’s walls.

  “I can’t believe her!” Ellen shouted once they were alone. “Did you all see what she did?”

  The three men looked at each other in confusion, and then Bill and Grom focused on Syril, trusting his knowledge of the court would give him some edge they lacked.

  “Hugged you with her toned and muscular arms?” Bill asked.

  “Exactly!” Ellen shouted. “Pretending that she hasn’t been ruining my life!”

  “How exactly did she ruin your life?” Grom asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Ellen said, suddenly.

  “You can’t throw a tantrum like that and not explain it to us,” Grom said.

  “Fine,” Ellen said after some thought. “But not without a drink.”

  “Lead the way, Phellena, ” Syril said.

  “No, Raphael, ” Ellen said. “You lead, I insist.”

  Syril realized that he still lacked his disguise in the aftermath of Ellen’s spell and flipped up his hood.

  “Why don’t you recast your disguise spell?” Grom asked.

  “I can’t,” Syril said, “I used up my last spell in there.”

  “What?” Ellen said in shock. “How?!”

  Syril shrugged sheepishly.

  “It’s laundry day,” he said.

  “How does that use up all your magic?” she asked.

  “He has a very thorough system,” Grom said. “Trust me, you don’t want to know the details.”

  “You see, a simple cleaning spell is not enough!” Syril began excitedly, causing Grom to let out a groan as Syril explained as they walked away.

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