The Cavalry is Dead

Chapter 2: My Pegapiglet Breaks My Mother's Gravy Boat

"I hate signing autographs," Percy muttered. "Bloody waste of time."

His cousin ducked under an overhanging sign with "The King and His Mistress" emblazoned on the peeling wood. Jax sped up. Exerbury was swelting hot today; people rushed through the cobbled streets, stopping by Porter's Emporium for a healing draught or Mundie's for a cool lemonade. Thatched buildings leaned against each other like drunken friends. Carriages rattled over dusty streets. The smell of cinnamon sticky buns drifted from the bakery, mixing with hay and manure.

"You didn't have to sign that pocket square," Jax said.

Percy kicked a pebble. "Of course I did. It only takes one idiot telling everyone what a stuck-up arsehole I am to ruin my reputation."

"Who cares?" Jax asked.

"What?"

"Who cares what they think of you?" Jax skirted around a fruit stand. "It doesn't change anything."

Percy gave him a "don't-be-an-idiot" look. "You're adorable, Jaxy, but you're wrong. Public opinion changes everything."

They turned on to a busy thoroughfare. Bibi flapped her wings, hovering for a second before tumbling back to Jax's shoulder. The pegapiglet let out a little huff of frustration. Jax patted her head, being careful to avoid her broken wing.

"Oi!" A deep voice drifted across the street. "Percy!"

They turned.

A burly-looking butcher leaned against a greasy shop, a stained white apron slung over his shoulder. A bloodied carcass churned on a spit. Jax sniffed the air. Cow? Pig? Hard to tell; he'd been vegetarian since he was thirteen, and all meat smelled the same to him. Which was to say, disgusting.

Percy lifted a hand. "How's it going, Roan?"

The butcher stroked his beard. "I heard you killed another monster. Nice one."

"Just doing my job," Percy said, for the second time. Jax wondered if his cousin was trying to develop a catchphrase. Probably.

"Good luck tomorrow," Roan said. "Bloody brave of you." He jerked his thumb toward the firepit. "I'll have a hog roast waiting for you when you're back."

"Cheers, mate," Percy said.

They passed by the shop, inhaling a fume of smoked meat and steel. Percy lowered his voice. "What a wanker." His cousin was still smiling. "He just wants to hang a sign in his shop. Persophecles eats here. I've seen it all before."

Jax shrugged. "Maybe he just likes you."

Percy ruffled his hair. "You really are adorable, Jaxy."

Jax glanced back. He could just make out a slim figure through the smoke, poking and prodding at the roasted animal. She was dressed in a clean white apron, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. As if she sensed him watching, the girl looked up; her eyes were an arresting shade of green, so bright that they cut like acid, and Jax quickly looked away.

"Who's that?" he asked.

Percy plucked an apple off a cart. "Who?"

"Her," Jax said.

His cheeks burned. Percy glanced back and snorted. "Romes? Don't even think about it, Jaxy." He patted his shoulder. "She'd eat you alive."

"How do you know?"

Percy bit into the apple. "I've met her once or twice. She helps out at her father's shop." He looked back, slower this time. Appreciative. "Pretty little thing, but she's got claws on her. Still. That's one beast I wouldn't mind conquering."