The Magic Of An Alter Ego.

Chapter 19

For the night, Wilson slept on the floor.
He traded Emmy's rock-hard pillow for his vest instead, refusing to share a bed or wake a cranky Argo in order to argue for who gets the second bed.

Luckily it didn't matter too much for Wilson. He was too awake to fall asleep.

Emmy slept like a cat, occasionally shifting over and mumbling in her sleep. She mainly mumbled about her parents and other things Wilson did not recognize. Her body curled up tightly on the bed.

She didn't deserve any of this, he realized. She merely wanted her mother back; not to be thrown into a kingdom where every turn could get her killed. She probably wanted to get home as much as he did.

Maybe even more.

He shifted onto his back, staring up at the moldy ceiling.

No, nothing could ever match up to his want to get home.

Wilson wanted to go home. Back to his bed, to his hometown, back to the familiar faces and the regular life he had lived. He turned onto his side, looking up at Argo.

Argo lay quietly, curled up on the bed. He didn't move, he barely looked alive. Wilson figured it had to be some sort of reflex he had learned as an assassin.

Why had he said those things to Argo? He had no right to rub it all in his face. The halfling probably felt terrible about the events. Yet, he didn't. He rarely apologize.

Argo was a criminal. Wilson looked back up at the ceiling. For how long had he known about the troubles between the Badlands? How long had the silent war gone on for? No news on their suffering, no evidence that the kingdom was in danger, no sign that, maybe, none of this had to happen. The King should have aided them.

But he didn't. Neither of them did.

"Up." Wilson blinked awake, sitting up to shield his eyes from the lantern light. He must have fallen asleep sometime in the night.

The knight that had come in, held it higher, his eyes being blocked by the shadows.

"Up," The knight repeated, "The Queen wishes to see you."

Wilson stood to his feet, carefully shaking Emmy awake before turning to Argo.

"Careful," Wilson hesitated at their fearful words, "They kill at the slightest touch."

He had probably seen it happen.

Wilson shook Argo awake, the halfling wiping at his puffy eyes and reddened face.

000

"I see you three slept well."

After an escort by the stronghold guard, Wilson took his seat in Alastair's office. In the early morning light, there were less ravens than the day before.

She didn't look like the kind to run a kingdom, he realized.

She was only a teenager. Perhaps she was just powerful. Perhaps she was bluffing about being hand picked by the Mistress. He locked eyes with Charlotte and glared.

Or perhaps Charlotte had helped her in the attempt to overthrow the throne.

She played with the knife that Argo had used to almost kill her, balancing it on her finger. Cinnabar croaking out a tune as she whistled in the morning light.

After a few moments of listening to the song, Emmy spoke up, "Why did you call us here?"

Alastair glanced up at them, her brows furrowed and the knife on her finger tip.

"Well, I-ow- I wished to speak with you about the plans I had," She smiled, accidentally poking herself with the blade.

Argo sassed, "Why do that? You clearly know so much about this job already."