"Ah," I said as space warped in front of us and a small group of very surprised individuals lurched uncomfortably as they struggled to keep their balance. One failed and fell on her bottom while staring up at me with a shocked expression. I stared down at her. "Lady Arista Penterberry. So good of you to join us."
"You!"
"You remember me?" I gave her a broader smile. "I suppose proper introductions are necessary as you didn't even bother to ask for my name…"
"I don't care about your name!" She scrambled to her feet, shaking off dust as she tried to regain some composure with a fierce grimace she had to work very hard to maintain. For some reason, it kept sliding off to be replaced with nervous fear.
I can't think of why.
"Well, as a gentleman, I feel it would be terribly inconsiderate of me to bring you here without sharing my identity."
Her guards pressed in close, weapons drawn. Their faces began to glitter with sweat as they eyed Mudge who was covered from head to foot in gore.
None of it his own.
The ground beneath his feet was now so wet with blood that it was practically mud.
While they didn't know a dragon had been here only a few minutes before, they knew something had happened.
Something big.
Tennison. Blake. Hawkins. Their names still tickled my memory. I gave them each a polite nod. "The stout fellow behind you is Mudge. He's my chef."
"Hello," Mudge said with a cheerful wave.
"Chef, he says," Tennison muttered.
"And this is Penelope," I said. "She's my maid."
As if to prove the point, she pulled out a feather duster from her spatial bag and dusted my shoulder while giving them a blank look. In fairness, without a face to show it was rather difficult for her to give them any other kind of look.
"Pleased to meet you all," she said with a little curtsy.
"A maid?" Blake squinted, his sword shaking a little in his hand. "You expect us to believe that?"
"I think you'll find I don't care very much what you think," I told them. "I am Taran."
"Taran?" Arista scowled. "Is that supposed to mean anything? You don't even have a title, do you? How dare you even speak in my presence!"
"Actually, I have several," I said truthfully. "It's just that I don't use them. They're very cumbersome to carry around. People expect you to solve their problems whenever you announce yourself as a Lord or whatever. No, I prefer to be called Taran. Just simple Taran."
"Forgive me, sir," Hawkins said, his tongue flicking across his lips. "But I don't think you're very simple at all. You've pulled us from our Instance into yours, haven't you? That should be impossible."
"For most people, yes." I kept my gaze on Lady Penterberry, trying to witness that proverbial moment when the penny drops. "But the dungeon and I came to an agreement."
"An agreement?"
"Yes. It would bring you to me, and I wouldn't tear out its core and give it to my father as a Winsday gift. It being Winsday and all."
"My father is a Lord," Lady Penterberry growled. "And he is very good friends with Duke Finchester! When he finds out what you've done here, he'll have you arrested. And then flayed. Yes. He will have you flayed! And I will watch. I will watch while you are flayed. Do you understand what you've done yet?"
"I do, Lady Penterberry," I said. "But I will ask you a question in turn. How is your father going to find out what happened to you in here?"
Her eyes widened. "Are you threatening me?"
"A gentleman never threatens a lady, Lady Penterberry."
"It sounded like one," she hissed. "Hawkins? That sounded like a threat to you, didn't it?"
"I'm not sure, ma'am," he said, swallowing slowly as Mudge cracked his knuckles. "Right now I'm inclined towards believing and doing anything he says."
"Coward," she grunted. "Blake? You'll kill this peasant for me, won't you?"
"My lady, I get paid to protect you. And I'd do my damnedest to do so." His fingers tightened on the grip of his sword. "But we just got yanked from our Instance. What this gentleman says is true. No one will know what happened to us. And anyone who can bully the dungeon into bending its laws to suit their purpose is someone we really shouldn't upset. Sir?"
"Taran," I said, smiling kindly. "I prefer to be called Taran."
"Taran, sir. What are you going to do to us?"
I kept my eyes on lady Penterberry.
I could see a small crack in her composure.
A hint of doubt.
As understanding slowly leaked into her brainstem.
"I'm considering letting you go," I said. "After all. You've had a terrifying experience, I'm sure. A dragon in the dungeon. Who would have thought? Mudge, show them one of the dragon's scales, would you?"
"Right, boss," he said, rummaging and pulling out a plate-sized scale. Its iridescent green sheen was almost mesmerizing. "Wanna see another? I got plenty."
"Four, Mudge. Give them four."
The Abomination slowly counted them out and held out a hand.
Hawkins, closest to him, glanced at me first.
"Take them," I said. "You earned them. Trying to defend Lady Penterberry from a dragon was a noble, if doomed, adventure which deserves a reward."
"Are those real?" Arista's eyes bulged and all understanding fled from her mind to be replaced by greed and avarice. "Give them to me, Hawkins! I must have them. They're worth so much. I can make earrings out of one. And a new amulet! I can't wait to show that Herringworth sow! She'll be so jealous!"
"Alas," I said calmly. "They're not for you, Lady Penterberry. I have something else for you."
"Oh?" She rounded on me, almost drooling. "Well, that's more like it. It's good that you've come to your senses at last! If your gift is suitable, I will be sure to tell my father that you- Hawkins? What are you doing?"
Hawkins had sheathed his sword and taken two steps away from her as he calmly tucked the scales away.
Tennison and Blake shared a look, shrugged, then followed suit.
She blinked at them, still not quite understanding. But feeling that trickle slowly seep down the back of her neck like a cold icy drop of sweat. "What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to steal my dragon scales? My father-"
"It was a tough fight, sir?" Blake asked me.
"Very tough," I said. "The first stage isn't particularly challenging. Just the usual snapping of jaws and swiping of claws. But the second stage involves a lot of dragonfire. It had a vaguely violet hue to it, didn't it Mudge?"
"Yeah," he said. "It was a bit burny, too."
"Good thing that Lady Penterberry knew how to cast a Fire Resistance spell," I said. "You can do that, can't you?"
"Of course I ca-"
"The third stage is where it got dicey," I said. "You were caught by surprise by its wings as it shifted focus from tank to mage. Unfortunately Lady Penterberry was quite excited by the idea of getting dragon scales as earrings that she completely forgot to protect herself with any magical barriers like a normal mage should. Sadly, your shouted reminder made her angry as she demanded you kill it faster. The inexperience of youth when confronted with an overly enthusiastic dungeon is to be expected now and then."
"It happens," Tennison murmured. "Happened to Lord Alfrickson's kid, didn't it?"
"Got eaten by an ogre," Blake agreed. "Only two of his guards survived."
"Sadly, it is more common than many will admit."
"What are you all talking about?" Arista stamped a foot. "I'm right here! What are you…"
"Ah," I said, feeling genuine amusement as her face paled. "There it is."
"You wouldn't dare. You simply wouldn't dare! Hawkins. Hawkins, stop this nonsense."
"I'm not sure I can, ma'am."
"Blake!"
"We'll need some wounds," the older guard said to Tennison. "You can still throw a fireball, can't you?"
"Not a big one."
"Doesn't need to be. Just enough to do some damage."
"I've got some burn cream," Hawkins said, rummaging.
"You can't do this!" Lady Penterberry screamed. "My father! He'll…"
"Never know," I finished for her. "Now for the magic question."
"Why?" Tears started warming the corner of her eyes as full realisation began to sink in. "What did I do to you?"
"Nothing," I said.
"So why do this?" She gulped, and I could see her hands inching towards her belt where a small token dangled. "It's a bit petty, isn't it? I was only a little bit rude…"
"At least you know that much," I said. "But no. Not because of that. I don't really care if people are rude to me. What I care about, Lady Penterberry, is when people are rude to those I care about. I'm talking about Clover."
"Who? Clover?" She looked genuinely astonished. "That clumsy sow? But she's nobody. She's cursed. Did you know that? She has a curse!"
"I do know that."
"So why do you care what happens to her?"
"Because I know how it feels, Lady Penterberry," I said softly as her hand whipped towards the token. "I know how it feels to be cursed."
"Ha!" She crushed the token within her fingers and a glowing yellow barrier snapped up around her. "Too late! Now you can't touch me. This is-"
"A Negation Barrier," I said. "To counter magical attacks. Very impressive. And expensive."
"My father bought it for me," she smirked. Then scowled at her guards. "You three are in so much trouble. Daddy is really going to-"
"Tch." I shook my head at her. "Unfortunately, it's Hollison's Negation Barrier."
"So?"
"So, it covers you from your head, down to one inch below your feet."
"That's enough."
"No," I said. "It really isn't."
"There's nothing you can do to me! Nothing!"
"I really wasn't going to do anything to you," I said.
Her confusion made me smile the widest I ever had. "Then why go through all of this?"
"Because," I said. "It's Winsday."
"And?"
"And I needed a gift for my father."
Then I opened a portal under her feet. And watched as Lady Arista Penterberry was dragged into the void where the Old Twit had been waiting with the eldritch patience of an elder god.
She screamed.
One long scream.
Which we never heard the end of.
Then the portal snapped shut and her three guards shifted uncomfortably.
Before Hawkins cleared his throat. "Well," he said. "Shame about that dragon."
"Yeah," Blake said, nodding hard. "Never saw anything like it."