Inn Too Deep - Chapter 2 - One Thing After Another - Final (Patreon)

With several large gulps, Frederick downed the remaining contents of his deer antler mug. He looked through the large front window, gazing up at the sky, recognizing that their morning rush was left barren. He let out a sigh as the room filled with the sounds of Iraina’s snores—a stark contrast to his hope of a room filled with paying customers.

When he looked at the other members of the room, their eyes quickly shifted away from his gaze. His fist tightened around the mug, filling the area with sounds of snapping. Frederick took in a few deep breaths before setting the cup on the windowsill next to him. He stood up and made his way to Metzi, Valencia, and Alexi, who were sitting at one of the nearby tables.

“All right, it’s been hours, and no one is coming,” Frederick said, pointing over his shoulder. “We need to come up with another solution.”

“I told you we should have opened up in the city,” Valencia said, leaning back in her chair. “This location is too far of a walk from inside the town that most of the people aren’t going to want to make it.”

Frederick grabbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to hear it. We all agreed to build outside the city. It was the only way we could afford to erect a tavern of our own design without using magic.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Valencia huffed, crossing her arms.

Alexi scooted his chair forward, sitting his chin on his closed fists. “If they aren’t coming to us, maybe we can go to them?”

“What do you mean?” Frederick asked.

“We’ve got the travel grill. I say we set up a small spot in the town square, preferably in the middle of the market area. We bring some wood and stone with us, get a fire going, and cook some food.”

“That’s a great idea. We can bring one of the casks with us as well and do ‘copper cups.’”

“Can we even afford to sell a cup of beer for a copper?” Valencia asked.

Everyone’s head turned to Metzi before she cleared her throat. “Not having any earnings with breakfast is what’s hurting us the most. We can’t have any more missed shifts; otherwise, I don’t think we’ll be able to make our mortgage payment this week. We need consistent income to purchase perishables, food, and supplies. While copper cups won’t hurt us too much, we should limit it to a single cask.”

“Good enough for me,” Frederick said with a smack of his hands. “Alexi, what are you thinking for food?”

“Hmm . . . I’m thinking meat and vegetable skewers. We’ve got tons of sticks in the back. I’ve got the vegetables already prepped from breakfast. I just need a few minutes to cut the meat to size, and we should be good to go.”

“Sounds like a plan. Metzi and I will do the beer call. Valencia, I want you to help Alexi with the food.”

“What about Iraina?” Valencia asked.

Frederick turned to see Iraina’s head tilted upward with a stream of drool sliding out the side of her mouth. A twisted thought entered his mind as he wondered if she would drown if she stood outside in the rain. He walked over to her and grabbed her arm, startling her awake.

“Iraina, did you hear anything about what we just discussed?”

“Y-yeah, I was paying attention,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, we’re going to take food to the town, but no one told me what I am doing.”

Frederick’s jaw dropped. He furrowed his brow before looking back at the rest of the group. They were all smiling and responded with simple shrugs. He returned his attention back to Iraina, whose eyes had already shifted into a hazy state.

“Well, all right then, you can join Metzi and me handing out cups and calling to the nearby area. I want to keep you active.”

“Okay!” she said with a smile.

Frederick hesitated before returning to the others at the table. “Let’s grab everything we need. We want to get down as soon as possible. Time is money, people.”

Metzi was the first to get up from the table, joining Frederick at his side. They all walked into the back of the kitchen and split off into their respective groups. Alexi and Valencia entered first and began prepping the food, while Frederick, Metzi, and Iraina gathered the necessary cups, beer cask, and cleaning supplies.

After a few minutes of searching, Frederick paused and scratched the top of his head, unable to find the leather harness they used to transport the smaller casks. He turned and shouted from the back room beyond the kitchen. “Hey, Alexi, have you seen the cask harness anywhere?”

“Should be in the kitchen closet, Chief,” Alexi shouted back, his deep voice rattling some of the wooden plates.

“Ah, that’s right,” Frederick said with a snap of his finger. He moved out of the storage room and made his way to the small kitchen closet. With a pull of the closet’s handle, dozens of parchments spilled out onto the floor. Frederick’s blood boiled, knowing what the paper was before he even checked. He bent down and unraveled the parchment. Sure enough, it was the advertisements for their tavern that were supposed to go up around town last week.

“Valencia!” Frederick shouted. He waited until he could hear the tap of her nails on the wood floor next to him before he continued. “What the fuck is all of this? Didn’t I tell you to put these up around town last week?!”

“Don’t get mad at her,” Iraina interjected. Frederick turned to see tears fill Iraina’s enormous eyes. “It’s not her fault. I was feeling left out because I finished my duties early, so I asked her if she needed help with anything. Valencia offered to allow me to hand out the flyers, but I completely spaced it. I’m so­­—”

Iraina didn’t finish the words before shoving her tear-stricken face into Frederick’s chest. He could feel the front of his tunic becoming quickly soaked with each passing second. Patting Iraina’s back and rubbing her fluffy neck, he waited for her to tire herself out. He mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to Valencia, whose twisted lips and increased flame along her eyelids told him that he had made a big mistake.

When Iraina’s tears showed no signs of slowing down, Frederick softly pushed her away from his chest. “It’s all right, Iraina. No need for all those tears. We all make mistakes.”

Iraina wiped her face with the fluff along her arm. “I’m so sorry, everyone. I feel like I let you all down.”

“Well, we still have the flyers. How about while the rest of us hand out food and drink, you give each of them a flyer?”

“Yeah! Then I can still accomplish the task Valencia gave me. Let me go grab my pack, and I’ll stuff it full of these parchments.”

As Iraina sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, Frederick approached Valencia with his head hung low. “I’m sorry for immediately putting the blame on you. It wasn’t fair of me to jump to anger like that.”

“I may like it when you get angry, but I don’t like it when you’re angry at me, Papi.”

“Is there anything I could do to make it up to you?”

A slight grin crept along Valencia’s face, and she leaned in to whisper in Frederick’s ear. His face became warm, and he felt his cock grow ever so slightly as the hellhound listed her demands.

“Deal,” Frederick said, leaning over and kissing Valencia on the cheek.

The two split and finished their preparations. When everyone was ready, Iraina returned to the kitchen and scooped up all the parchments into her bag before joining the crew in the dining room. After Metzi finished double checking that they had everything they needed, the group departed The Crossroads Tavern and marched into the center of town.

It was nearly midday by the time they arrived at their destination. The cobblestone road of the town square was already bustling with activity. Hundreds of patrons meandered leisurely along the road. Mothers and fathers corralled their children as they winded their way through the city streets. Bards lined nearly every corner, soliciting passersby with performances of sung tales and lively dance.

The merchant area was lined with dozens of stalls, wagons, and shops. It was the few places you could come and purchase nearly anything. Given that they arrived late, the best spots were already taken. The group ended up on the faraway edge with the smallest presence. Thankfully, the town square was a literal name. Its layout ensured traffic would funnel their way, eventually.

After setting their gear down, Frederick instructed the girls to begin handing out the flyers while he and Alexi finished their setup. He hoped that the illusions of each of the women would lead the crowd of men to their stall. With their individual charms based on their own personalities, they were a draw for any man, depending on their preferences. With the flame under the grill nice and hot, Frederick shouldered the beer cask. A warm smile sprawled from ear to ear when he turned to see a line formed down the aisle of stalls.

“A copper of beer, a copper of beer here!” Frederick shouted. “Limit one per person!”

The shout was nearly enough to start a riot as the line broke order and swarmed around Frederick.

“All right, all right, ya savages, settle down. One at a time, one at a time!”

The crowd went eerily silent as the first patron received a mug of beer. He gulped the cup down in seconds. The crowd waited in anticipation for the man’s response. The customer stared at the cup, his eyes wide and lip trembling, before turning to look at the crowd behind him.

“It’s fucking wonderful!” he shouted.

Frederick let out a bellowed laugh, which quickly turned to panic as the customers pressed into him, knocking over several merchant stalls in the process. Frederick looked around the crowd for his female companions, realizing he needed help. He could see Valencia’s flame flickering above the crowd.

“Valencia! Need a bit of help here.”

The hellhound jumped over a few patrons with ease, landing on top of a nearby crate. The crowd gasped in surprise at the display of strength and dexterity. Frederick’s eyes went wide, and the two stared at each other for a few seconds, speaking no words. When they were both sure the illusion wasn’t broken, Valencia took charge.

“All right, you rowdy johns,” she began. “You heard the man. Get in line or none of you are getting a drop!”

It surprised Frederick how quickly the men responded to Valencia’s demands. She hadn’t used her compulsion magic, yet they were silenced and queued in just a few seconds. She turned and gave Frederick a wink before hopping off the crate. She moved back down the aisle, resuming her duty of handing out the flyers. Every man’s head turned to her swaying hips, many catching the wrath of their significant others.

“All right, you heard the lady!” Frederick shouted. “One cup! One copper per customer.”

Metzi joined Frederick’s side after giving Valencia her remaining stack of flyers. He pointed over his shoulder at the makeshift washing station he built. The station had a bucket with water on top of a crate and was surrounded on all sides by a curtain of cloth hanging from tied rope. The plan, like they had done in the past, was to have Metzi use her body to clean the cups rather than hand washing them. While they were confident that the illusion would still hold, even if someone noticed her wiping the cups with her hand, the fabric barrier was an extra level of precaution.

Once they got into their groove, they were moving through one new customer within seconds. While the speed and efficiency of their workflow increased, it only seemed to attract more attention and patrons. Frederick’s focus wavered only moments for him to catch smiles and glances with his companions, who were all absorbed with their own tasks. The busy work kept him focused, and he soon lost track of time. It wasn’t until Valencia and Iraina sprinted toward him that his concentration lapsed.

“W-we need to talk,” Valencia said, catching her breath.

“What’s going on?” Frederick asked, handing a fresh cup of beer to the next customer.

“We handed out all the flyers, and all the town's talking about our beer and Alexi’s skewers.”

“Well, that’s great news!”

Valencia leaned in close to whisper. “That’s not all of it. Apparently, some of the other food vendors are pissed because of all the attention we’ve been getting and alerted the merchant’s guild. We are supposed to have a permit. There’s a representative with a feathery hat speaking with the other vendors now.”

Frederick leaned around Valencia to see several vendors speaking with a potbellied man with a large handlebar mustache, wearing a puffy coat and feathered hat. Jewelry covered him head-to-toe, an ensemble common with head members of the merchant guild. The two men speaking with the merchant guild representative turned and pointed down the aisle toward Frederick’s group. After a few moments, the two stall members fell in behind the representative as they marched toward the group.

“Shit, they’re coming this way,” Frederick said, ducking his head down.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” Valencia asked. “We can’t afford to be fined.”

“I know, just give me a second to think.”

“We don’t have a second!”

Frederick turned and sprinted over to Alexi. “Drop everything, grab the important stuff.”

Alexi didn’t hesitate. “On it.”

“Everyone get behind me and make use of the crowd.”

“What do you plan on—”

“FREE BEER!” Frederick shouted.

The crowd erupted in a frenzy around The Crossroads Tavern employees. Everyone pushed over one another, customers from other aisles rampaged market stalls, and the human sea of chaos separated families. The distraction proved successful, creating an instant physical barrier between Frederick and his companions. He handed out all the cups he had before becoming overwhelmed by the sheer number of customers trying to obtain the free sample.

In a last-ditch effort to escape, Frederick unshouldered the cask and gave it to a nearby patron. After a moment of uncertainty, the crowd shifted their focus to the man holding the cask, giving Frederick enough of a reprieve to weave his way through the crowd. With the lunch service enough of a success, the group sprinted off, laughing their way back home with several sacks full of coin.

***

Frederick wiped the sweat from his brow as he stood over the open flame of the kitchen. He flipped the hunk of meat before turning around and setting a few fresh vegetables on a wooden plate. With the other side cooked well enough, Frederick turned and placed the medium-rare hunk of meat on the plate before placing it on the counter.

“Order for table eleven!” Frederick shouted. In a few seconds, Metzi walked by, grabbed the plate, and headed to the center of the room. Frederick looked up at Alexi, and the two men shared a smile while the golden-slit-eyed man set another plate on the counter.

“Order for table seventeen!” Alexi shouted. Valencia was next. She grabbed the wooden plate after blowing Frederick a kiss. He couldn’t help but stare at Valencia’s thick bottom, only snapping out of his gaze upon hearing Alexi clearing out the wood stove. Frederick slung a towel over his shoulder before walking to the kitchen opening near the bar.

He looked over at Iraina, who was busy ushering customers away, noting that the kitchen was closing soon, and they would only have rooms available for the night. The customers groaned and cursed, unable to get a table at Hallow’s Creek’s newest tavern. Frederick waited for Metzi and Valencia to approach, a feeling of anticipation permeating through his foot’s insistent tapping.

“So, how did we do tonight?” Frederick asked.

“Way better than we could have ever hoped for,” Metzi said. “If I counted correctly, we did about three-to-four turns per table, with thirty tables plus the ten stools at the bar. It’s significant.”

“Enough to put us back on track after missing breakfast?”

“I haven’t had a chance to tally up how much money Alexi and you made from the lunch, but I think so.”

“That’s good enough for me!” Frederick let out a bellowed laugh and wrapped his arms around his two lovers. He swayed with them from side to side before placing a kiss on each of their foreheads. Frederick quickly let go of his companions when he saw a man he recognized standing nearby, waiting patiently for a moment to speak. It was Mayor Carlisle.

The mayor was a short, portly man with a bald head and a white, curled mustache. He wore a black vest and suit jacket paired with gray slacks. His shoes showed signs of age but reflected their entire surroundings as if well taken care of. He extended his hand out to Frederick, to which Frederick clasped after wiping his own hands on his apron.

“Well done, Mr. Beesly,” Mayor Carlisle said. “It’s good to see The Crossroads Tavern having such an outstanding opening.”

“Thank you, Mayor. It’s an honor to have you here today. I didn’t expect you to come after I sent my invitation.”

“Of course, my boy, of course! I am always interested in the fine dining of Hallow’s Creek. News of your food and beer spread through the town like wildfire earlier today. Hearing such rave reviews, I had to visit myself, and sure enough, you didn’t disappoint.”

Frederick wrapped around the corner and grabbed Alexi’s arm, leading him back to the mayor. “That is only possible thanks to our head chef, Chef Adams, sir.”

The mayor stood slack-jawed, looking up as Alexi’s shadow covered his entire body. “M-my word, I’ve never seen a human man so tall and wide in all of my years. You look like you could compete in the Veracian gladiatorial games, my boy.”

“Oh, not me,” Alexi said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just love cooking, sir. It’s always been a passion of mine.”

“Me too,” the mayor said, patting his stomach. The group shared a small laugh before the mayor turned and looked out the window. “Well, it’s been a wonderful evening, but it is a bit of a hike back to the manor.” The mayor reached out his hand and shook Alexi’s and Frederick’s once more. “I’m sure I’ll be by again soon.”

The group watched as he turned and walked out the front door, waving at Iraina as he left.

“Did we just become the go-to spot for the mayor?” Alexi asked.

“Seems like it,” Metzi said.

“Don’t get too excited,” Valencia interjected. “It’s a double-edged sword. If the town begins to hate the mayor, it could drive the customers away.”

“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Frederick said. “Come on, let’s finish out the tables. The night’s not over.”

It took another hour and a half before the last of the customers left the dining room area. Several of which decided to stay the night rather than make their way home, eager to get a sample of the morning’s breakfast. After all the cleaning was complete, Alexi made his way to bed. The rest of the group gathered around Metzi while she counted their earnings. With inhuman speed, her multiple eyes and tentacles moved over the various copper and silver in seconds. When she finished, she turned her head and smiled.

“Now, I want you all to take into consideration that we didn’t do a breakfast service, our lunch service was almost at cost, and our dinner service was as packed as it could be.”

“Just tell us!” Valencia said, pushing Metzi’s shoulder with one hand while biting a nail on the other.

“We did about two hundred and twenty silver.”

“Is that good? It doesn’t seem like much.”

Frederick jumped out of his chair. “Good?! That’s great!”

“I’d have to agree,” Metzi said. “It’s the best we could have hoped for given everything we went through today.”

“So, when do we get paid?” Valencia asked.

“End of week. Once I’ve accounted for all of our expenses, I’ll issue a stipend for everyone.”

Before Valencia could vent her frustration, everyone’s head turned to the jingle of the hanging doorbell. Three men wearing matching outfits entered the room. Frederick curled his lip as he looked at the strangers. They were wearing tattered tunics and trousers accompanied by worn, leather armor that had scars of constant battle. Their uniform colors were dyed brown and green, keen for camouflage in the surrounding wilderness. They each wore a black hood with a symbol of a raven on the widow’s peak.

But what caught Frederick’s attention was their body movements. They each moved slightly hunched from years of constant crouching, yet their strides were full of overconfidence. Their hands naturally rested on the hilts of their many weapons, a habit for those involved in frequent combat. Frederick’s instincts told him that these men were trouble. He turned to his companions, who all stared with the same recognition, all except for one.

Iraina, following her training, walked over to greet the new customers. “Good evening, sirs. How can I help you today?”

The three men pulled down their cloaks, the hairless one in the middle taking the lead. When he spoke, it sounded like rocks scraping along a siphoning pan. “Well, we heard about a new tavern opening up in our little town. It’s all everyone is talking about. We figured we’d swing by, discuss business, and enjoy a nice meal.”

“Oh, I am sorry to tell you, but the kitchen is closed as of an hour ago. We do have several rooms available, if you’d like to stay the night. Breakfast will be served at sunrise.”

The man turned and looked at his two associates next to him, a smug smile creeping along his face. He reached his hand out, draping it slowly across Iraina’s face. “I’m sorry love, but as I said, we’re here for business, and I never discuss business on an empty stomach.”

That was all Frederick could take before walking over to join Iraina. “Good evening, gentlemen. I am Francis Beesly, the owner of The Crossroads Tavern. Why don’t you three have a seat at the table over there, and we’ll get you squared away.”

“That’s more like it,” the man said, waltzing his way over to the table, gawking at the three women in the room. Frederick snapped his fingers, and his companions joined him near the kitchen entrance.

“I am going to make them a charcuterie board with some of the leftovers from dinner,” Frederick said, pointing over his shoulder. “You three go ahead and serve them each a beer.”

“Why are we pandering to these assholes?” Valencia asked, straining through her whisper. “We should toss them out immediately.”

“As much as I want to, we need to maintain our cover. If one of us becomes aggressive, we lose the illusion.”

“Sure, but if no one finds the bodies . . .”

“I am in agreement with Valencia,” Metzi said. “I’ll absorb them, and there will be no trace that they were ever here.”

Frederick crossed his arms. “Come on, work with me here. You can see they are all part of the same outfit. Whoever they are working for surely sent them for a reason. We need information right now, but we need to keep them talking.”

“Ugh, fine,” Valencia said, stomping her foot. “But if they try anything, they are gone.”

“Only on my command,” Frederick said sternly.

The three women nodded quickly before splitting off into their duties. It took a few minutes for Frederick to prepare the bits of meat, cheeses, fruit, and bread for the night’s final customers. When it was all assembled, he picked up the wooden board and walked it into the room. The men were in the process of downing their drinks as Frederick sat the board down in the middle of the table. Each of the men let out a satisfactory belch, followed quickly by a laugh.

“It seems like the rumors were true,” the group’s leader said, raising his glass. “This is a mighty fine beer. Another round if you would be so kind, love.” After the women grabbed the held mugs, the three men picked away at the food in the center of the table. The leader’s face twisted and frowned before he leaned back in his chair. “Unfortunately, it looks like the rumors weren’t true when it comes to the food. We’ve definitely had better.”

Frederick felt his eye twitch as he smiled. “Well, as my staff told you when you entered, our kitchen is closed for the evening. Our chef is resting and won’t be ready until the morning.”

The man in the middle ran his tongue over his teeth, looked at his two colleagues, and pointed his hand at the chair across from him. “Why don’t you have a seat, Francis.”

Frederick took his seat before the three women returned with the fresh beer. After placing the cups on the table, the three men wrapped their arms around the women, smiling. Frederick clenched his jaw and looked at each of the women standing there, waiting to give the signal if the unwelcomed visitors were to try anything.

“You have mighty fine women staffing this place, Francis,” the man across from him said. “I’m quite jealous.” The two other men murmured agreements between gulps of their beer.

“I’m sure they appreciate the compliment, but you said you came here to speak business. Mind telling me what this is about?”

The man set his cup down and leaned back in his chair, his arm still wrapped around Iraina. “My name is Lieutenant Pearce. I represent a group known as the Swamp Ravens. We offer . . . services for many of the businesses in Hallow’s Creek. We provide protection, trade in select specialty goods, and contract for certain services that may require a bit of discretion.”

“Can you expand on what you mean by that?”

“Oh, I am sure a well-versed man such as yourself can gather what I’m implying, but for the purposes of clarification, we protect against any needed threats that may be passing through. Maybe you need an exotic spice for one of your meals, or maybe another competitor is doing more business than you, and you don’t want that. We can put them out of commission.”

Frederick’s mind quickly made assumptions based on the information given. The fact that they identified themselves and specified their services after requesting clarification implied they felt that they were above the local law enforcement and did not fear any repercussions.

Just as I thought, dangerous.

“Well, that does certainly sound like an enticing offer, but I must decline. We’re not in need of any services like that at this time.”

Lieutenant Pearce and the other two members of the Swamp Ravens let out bellowed laughter. “Oh, is that so?” Pearce said. “Daveed, why don’t you show Francis here why he needs our protection.”

The man to Frederick’s left stood from the group, knocking over his chair, and brought his two bulging forearms on top of the table, shattering it in pieces. He then moved to his knocked-over chair, picked it up, and slammed it on the ground, sending wooden shrapnel around the room.

Frederick let out an exasperated sigh as he slowly stood from his seat, eliciting a quick response from Lieutenant Pearce and the other thug. Pearce wrapped his arm around Iraina’s neck, whose sudden surprise triggered a distinct change in personality.

“My light, can I?” Iraina asked.

“Yes, my love,” Frederick said. “Go ahead.”

The next few seconds were screaming-filled chaos. Iraina was first, grabbing on to Lieutenant Pearce’s wrist, snapping his forearm in half before slamming the back of her head into the man’s nose. Metzi’s illusion broke as she grew in size, creating a purple maw of thousands of rows of teeth, showering the surrounding area in blood with every bite. Valencia snapped her finger, covering her assaulter in a burst of flame, leaving him in a pile of ash in seconds.

Lieutenant Pearce crawled toward the door as his pursuers slowly walked behind him. His voice was filled with blood and fear. “Y-you fucking monsters. You killed my boys.”

“Should we kill him?” Iraina asked.

“No, he’s no longer a threat,” Frederick said, approaching the wounded man. He reached down, grabbing him by his broken forearm, and pulled him up to his feet. The man’s cries echoed throughout the empty room, only silenced by his quickened breath. Frederick wiped the sweat across the man’s forehead before slapping him hard across the face. His eyes darted with fear as Frederick’s illusion gave way to his solid-black eyes; long, black hair; and long, black beard. It was a stark contrast to the blond-haired, blue-eyed, and clean-shaven persona of Francis Beesly.

“I want you to remember that sting, Lieutenant Pearce,” he said, slapping him again. “And that pain radiating through your arm. I want you to remember the screams of your men as my women ended their lives.”

Frederick slapped the man again as Pearce’s eyes shifted to the girls. With a viselike grip, Frederick brought Pearce’s eyes facing his own. “And never forget what happened here today. If you think for a minute about any thoughts of revenge for your comrades, well, you better bring an entire army. But know this, if you decide to bring a fight to my home, you all will share the same fate. Do you understand?”

Pearce nodded quickly, resulting in Frederick letting go of his face. The tavern owner walked over to the front door, opened it, and waited for the man to leave. Pearce’s eyes darted around the room, frozen in place, as if unsure this was some sort of trick. It took Frederick walking over to the fear-stricken man and guiding him through the exit before Pearce made any movement. When they reached the edge of the door, the injured bandit leader sprinted along the dirt path, and Frederick closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s good to know that the noise-suppression enchantment works on the rooms,” Valencia said, placing her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, the last thing we need is the entire town knowing what just happened,” Frederick said, running his hands down his face. He took in a deep breath, his mine sprinting through dozens of possibilities on how they could have handled that situation differently.

He felt Metzi’s cool hand slide up his arm, followed by Iraina’s carapaced grip on the other. Valencia approached last, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling her face into his neck. At that moment, it didn’t matter if he had made the right call. No matter what would happen next, their love was all he needed. Frederick winced from the sharp pain as Valencia bit him. He slapped his hand on his neck, letting out an audible yelp, followed by each of the girls’ laughter.

They love toying with me at the worst times, he thought.

“All right, you three, everyone needs to redo their illusions and get this place cleaned up. It looks like we’re going to have an even busier day tomorrow.”