I pondered the orb. The small crystal sphere sat neatly in my palm and I stared into its depths. As with so many magical trinkets, and in fact life itself, intent was everything.

  A series of glowing ellipses appeared in the centre of the ball that shifted and flowed. One moment it looked like E.E, then it was FoD and as they shifted and changed a faint ring-ringing noise came from the communication device. It rang several times, then flashed green.

  I found myself looking at a bleary-eyed Tex. he leaned upwards, blankets falling away to reveal a smooth, hairless chest. He looked at the orb for a second, then seemed to spring into a totally awake and focused state.

  “I don’t know who you are, but you’d best take the orb back to the fellow you stole it from, boy. He’s not the sort to take kindly to being robbed!” Tex snapped. A long, elegant hand, tipped with pink-painted nails, reached up and ran down his shoulder and out of view of the orb.

  “Tex, no orbing in the bedroom. If the Matron finds out you’ve brought one of them in here, you’ll be barred,” a feminine voice purred.

  “Not now, woman!” he said to the side before turning back to the orb with a glare. “Boy, I don’t know how that fucking idiot lost it, but if you do not wish to be roasted and eaten, and I mean that very, very literally, you’ll go give it back,” he growled at me.

  “It’s me, Tex,” I said, letting my appearance slide back towards my draconic form. My nose extended and lips curled back to reveal fangs at the same time as my eyes flashed with purple light. I changed back as quickly as I’d slipped into my hybrid form. I’d found, over the course of the quests I’d taken from the Board in the Cod, that being able to slide a little bit between my forms was useful, as long as none of the locals were about to witness me sprout claws from my fingers to hack through whatever new terror-Pokémon was terrorising the poor peasants.

  “Bob? For real, dude?”

  “Yes, I can look like this now. Look, I’ve got a laundry list of shit I need to get together for a few projects back in the Mill. Have you got a pen handy?” I asked. “And I assume your lady of negotiable affection is contractually obligated not to repeat anything she might overhear?”

  “Jane, Sorry love but you need to piss off,” he said gruffly. I heard sounds of movement from out of orb-shot, then a pair of ladies' underwear slapped Tex in the face, and a door slammed somewhere in the room..

  “I think she is a bit angry at you,” I noted observantly.

  “I was nearly out of time anyway, and I won’t be stopping by the Wanton Woman again for a few months. She’ll have forgiven me by then. Hang on.” He leaned over and fumbled about with something, then tossed the orb on his lap as he held up a paper pad and a pencil. “Fire away.”

  I rattled off the list from Kat and Reginald for various enchanting materials, then ran down my own list of goods I wanted for the Cod. he made notes as I spoke, periodically scowling or smirking.

  “You're setting up a restaurant?” he concluded astutely.

  “The Cod. I’m going into business with Benton and Esme.”

  “That place is a dump, Bob. Come a little closer to the city, and there are some major caravan towns that will give you much better opportunities. After all, it’s not like you’re stuck to riding a wagon or a pony. You can travel fast,” he suggested, peering into his orb and making me feel like a fish in an aquarium.

  “I like it here,” I muttered.

  “Esme’s does have a lovely set of–”

  “That as well, Tex. But really, it’s to stay close to my lair, alright?” I raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue his line of thought.

  “Some of this stuff won’t be cheap. Most of the enchanting gear can be bought at bargain prices in Ankmapak, which is a major exporter of almost everything magical. The cookers will still cost you a pretty penny, and they’re going to be a bastard to ship… How soon do you want this lot? I’m going to need to hire extra wagons, which means more hands to run them, so more spies, more fodder for the beasts…”

  “How far out from Ankmapak are you currently?” I asked.

  “About a week, depending on if I rush. Could miss out on some prime deals if I hurry through–”

  “As much as it pains me to say it, hurry, please. I want to get the Arkendrite sold. I need those funds. I’ll fly down. Is there somewhere just outside the city I can find you easily?”

  “Sure, boss. There’s a village just east of the city called Baginton. Famous for its crusty breads and lusty– well, you know. It’s got a church dedicated to Bulb, the God of Light, that’s lit up like a Christmas tree every night. There’s a tavern near the timple, the Broken Baguette, just ask around and I’ll meet you there. Boss?” He asked me in a worried voice.

  “Yeah?”

  “You sure about this? Ankmapak isn’t some bunch of bumpkins. There’s the Guilds, the Inquaestion, a bunch of powerful heroes, some of whom are from back home, or even more fucked up worlds. How good is your disguise?”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “Everyone here thinks I’m a level eighty-odd adventurer. The barber used some weird eyeglasses that gauged my strength and armour class.”

  “You survived old Mordechai intact?” He snorted into the orb then wiped the blur of spittle off with his bed sheets. “You’ll need to be careful. Some folks in the city will have powers to see through whatever you’re using to larp as a human.”

  “It’s a true shapeshifting ability. For all intents and purposes, I am physically a human right now. Kat says it will be fine. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a table booked, and I need to be on time.”

  “I’ll see you at the Baguette then, Bob. Bye!” Tex cut the connection, and the orb became a blank crystal ball once more. I stashed it in my belly pouch and rose to my feet. I adjusted my ascot in the mirror, smoothed back my hair, and grinned. Who’s a handsome dragon? This guy!

  I was taking Esme on a “date” to inspect the opposition. I’d see what Angtirm had done and double him. No triple him. Stealing from me had been a very bad idea. I was going to ruin his reputation with his investors and run him out of town.

  The main room of the Cod was quiet as I emerged from the lavatory. It had been increasingly empty for the last few nights. Mick nodded and raised his tankard at me as I passed. A handful of the other regulars were also in, but Restaurant One had slowly been sapping away the Cod’s business. Benton was balding by the day as a result of worrying, and Esme–

  Esme emerged from the kitchen wearing a figure-hugging dress. It was a gentle green colour, which set off her eyes. I had only just realized she had green eyes. She swayed towards me, the hem was split up the side and I saw flashes of thigh as she sashayed over to me and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. I smiled down at her.

  “Boobs.” Shit! In my defense, that really was a very low neckline. She laughed, a happy tinkling sound.

  “You look wonderful as well, Sir Bob,” she breathed.

  “Just Bob is fine, Esme. I apologise, that dress is just, uh, very impressive on you,” I stuttered.

  “We’ll be the two prettiest people in the worst place to eat in town!” She grinned at me. “Shall we, Bob?” She raised an arm of milk-white skin and gestured at the door.

  “We shall, my dear!”

  With a pretty girl's hand resting on my arm, I ventured out into the night to face my foe. The town was dimly lit in the darkness, a world away, literally, from what I had been used to back home. A full moon hung in the sky to supplement the meagre light that filtered out through people's curtains as we made our way towards the bank, and the foul betrayal that had been built opposite it.

  “It’s lovely when it’s quiet, but it gets so cold at night,” Esme said as she somehow managed to create a line of contact between us that ran from my knee to my shoulder. She would have been a world champion at the three-legged race.

  “It’s a lovely town,” I said, willing blood to flow in some directions, and not others. “I think there’s so much potential here. Now remember, we’re just there to see what they’re doing, not to cause any problems, alright?” I lied.

  “You don’t want me to be naughty this evening?” she pouted up at me before breaking out into a husky laugh. “Don’t worry, Sir Bob. I will be a perfect lady to match you as the perfect gentleman. But I can play dirty as well. I don’t wear this dress for just any old occasion.”

  “I gathered that was the case,” I said as we threaded through the increasingly busy streets. Foot traffic was usually dead at this time of evening in the Mill. Bar the occasional over-eager drunk who had been evicted from the Cod, staggering home, or a soon-to-be drunk heading in toward the tavern, the streets ought to be quiet. Couples, small groups, even families, were out in their finest clothes. Everyone was neatly trimmed and clean, radiating enthusiasm, and all of them were heading for my betrayer's establishment.

  Restaurant One, of all his crimes, that name came in second place, had been converted from the old courthouse, and it was built of heavy stone blocks, unlike most of the rest of the city. Flickering light-orbs had been mounted in pairs down the face of the building, and they were drawing people to it like moths to a flame.

  Esme and I spoke quietly as we waited in line behind a family of four. Two little kids. Well, there went my plan to spike the food with the laxatives and emetics I just happened to have in my belly pouch if I got the chance.

  A server emerged in sharp black and white clothing. Somethings appeared to be universal: waiters had to look like penguins.

  “Mr. Harpsichord?” The man in front of us nodded.

  “Please come in, a server will be with you shortly to take your drink orders. The menus are on the table waiting for you. My, what charming little ones! You must be so proud! Don’t worry, kids, we’ve still got plenty of uni-bunny nuggets! Welcome to Restaurant One, I do hope you enjoy your dining experience!” the Maitre’D said as he led the family inside. Esme’s fingers dug into my arm.

  “That’s a bit much,” she sniffed. “Who wants that? A warm smile, a tankard of ale and a bowl of stew is all you need.”

  “I suspect they’re onto a winner with the aesthetics and the frippery,” I muttered quietly, conscious of the young couple behind us.

  “Mr Robertson? Table for two?” The smooth bastard was back. I had no idea where Angtirm had dug out this slimy git, but he was good at his job. I nodded and he beamed, then ran his eyes up and down Esme a couple more times than was appropriate.

  I smiled, showing a little more fang than I should have when his eyes returned to my face. A brief hint of fear flickered in his gaze, but then he was all smiles as he held the door open and showed us to our table.

  Inside it was brightly lit with the magic orbs. A three-piece band was playing on a low stage in one corner. Compared to the Cod it was lavishly furnished, but beneath the tablecloths and deliberately dribbly candles, the construction of the tables and chairs was as simple and rustic as the Cod was.

  I slid Esme’s chair under her as she sat before taking my own place and passing her a drinks menu. I snorted, and Esme looked up with a frown.

  “The drinks, Esme. It’s not exactly fancy, right?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. Nothing special at all!” Esme said, looking back down at the list.

  “Only three options, plus water. We can do better than that, soon enough. I’m planning a trip to Ankmapak,” I said quietly. “I’ll be stocking up on a few things like wines and whiskeys while I’m there. We’ll have the market cornered in no time.”

  Esme looked up and narrowed her eyes as I sensed someone appear behind me.

  “Hello, I’ll be your server tonight-” the routine speech ground to a halt for a moment before picking back up, “-what would you both like to drink?” I turned, looked up, and smiled uncomfortably.

  “Hi, Jezebel.”