Page 36 of I Ran Away to Evil #3
Spitting Fire to It and Watching It Burn
Gerda
“Katie, you’re a genius .” Chef Andrew Grosser held up a leaf of paper with my latest recipe on it and smiled brightly. The lizardkin was one of the minions from the Dark Enchanted Forest who’d passed a trades test and emigrated to North Sumbria.
The Trickster’s Scarf did its job well, even if wearing it was brutal in this hot weather. My fox tail flicked twice in amusement. “Thank you, Andrew. It takes one to know one.”
He waved off my compliment and read the paper one more time before spitting fire to it and watching it burn. He looked up at me with a teasing smile. “Same terms?”
I nodded. “Three months to the date. Please and thank you.”
“Of course.” The lizardkin caught my hand and bowed, kissing the air above it gently. “Any chance you’re sticking around until after the festival? I’d love to buy you a drink.”
“Sorry, darling.” I withdrew my hand and waved. “You know I’m too busy for any fun.”
“A lizardman can dream,” he sighed but didn’t let my repeated rejections get him down. “See you next time.”
I bid the lizardman farewell, and he slipped back into the palace kitchen.
He was one of the few people I’d approached with recipes from my world.
It had started with a craving for cinnamon buns.
I’d made myself a batch then packaged one up and left it and the recipe at a bakery I loved in Servalt.
I’d added a note that said they could sell cinnamon buns if they waited one month to do so.
When they followed my request, I’d come back and offered other recipes as well.
Now they sold galettes, donuts and fritters.
I’d approached others with ramen and soft serve ice cream and medallion-cut ratatouille.
When I sent out recipes, I always required a delay.
If someone I approached revealed the letter or tried to release the item early, then I never contacted them again.
I wasn’t too upset by it: I wasn’t claiming these were my recipes.
They were just my favorite foods, and I was determined to taste them in the wild …
even if I had to introduce them into the wild myself.
The recipe I’d brought today was something I’d been working on for a while: pizza.
I couldn’t wait to see how it developed.
The second place I stopped by was the third floor of the east wing, a location that perfectly overlooked the dais in the sanctuary, and where I estimated a very excitable assassin would be standing when they leapt through the beautiful stained glass window below.
Still in disguise, I took a deep breath and pulled out a flowerpot from my Hero’s Spatial Ring. With care, I placed the somnia vale blossoms on the ledge and then walked out as quickly as possible. The hallway had a door to either side, and anyone who walked in wouldn’t be leaving.
They could be retrieved later, asleep in the hallway.
At that point, I ducked into a washroom and took off my scarf, changing back into Gerda the Bridge Troll, then I headed for the garden that circled the sanctuary on three sides to search for traps.
“Excuse me!” I called out to the closest knight, who immediately came over to see what I’d found.
My voice drew the attention of other trap finders in the garden: a pink pixie, an elder fae with antlers, and a mouse wearing squire attire. The first two were chatting among themselves, while the mouse was off on his own, searching in hard-to-reach places.
“Yes, miss?” The knight was a very tall, red-bearded human. I was thankful that he’d stopped a respectful distance away.
“I think I found something.” I waved at the place that should have some form of vine trap. In my foretelling, magical vines had sprouted from this area on the outside of the building, blocking the windows and trapping people inside.
“One moment, please.” The knight pulled out a crystal. “Captain, I think we’ve found something. East side.”
A minute later, a shadow slipped out of the bushes, and John rose out to greet them.
“Miss Gerda?” The rogue raised one eyebrow at me, and I returned the look with a smile.
“Lord Johnathon,” I greeted back, waving my hand in the general area of where the trap should be. I had zero trap-finding skills, and Perception could only get me so far.
John carefully pulled aside some mulberry bushes growing close to the walls. The man’s eyes suddenly turned black, pools of mist leaking out the sides in some horror-film, anime-power-of-darkness vibe, and I waited patiently for his abilities to scan the area.
Not at the bushes we were standing in front of but about two feet to the left, he pointed. “Found it.” Black tendrils shot out of John’s finger and encircled something on the wall. He yanked, and a small sack landed in his palm.
“What is it?” the knight asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
In a bold move, John upended the sack’s contents onto his palm.
Three bramblebriar seeds tumbled out. They would grow into a magical vine immune to magic which could only be cut by a fae blade.
There were fae at the wedding, so it wasn’t foolproof, but it would’ve definitely slowed down everyone’s escape.
“Well done, Miss Gerda,” John said, considering the seeds. “We will add one trap to your tally.”
“Just one? Stick around,” I half joked. “It’s almost my turn inside.”
“I think I will.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as John followed me to the front of the sanctuary. Their Royal Highness let Master Thomas of Servalt out, then waved at me.
“Miss Gerda.” Their Royal Highness raised an eyebrow at my companion. “Lord Johnathon. You aren’t on the list.”
The rogue monotoned, “I’m just here to watch.”
That sparked a light in Rowen’s eyes. “Then come in. You have until Her Grace arrives to search.”
The sanctuary was just as it appeared in my vision.
I walked up to the third pew on the left and pointed at the back leg.
“Here.” Then I pointed at a triangular stone in the pew on the fifth row on the right.
“Here.” Walking over, I pointed at the tassel tie holding the curtains for a stained glass window covered in stars.
“Here.” Then I pointed at the swirl of an armrest at the end of a bench two rows up from the curtain. “Here.”
From one end of the hall to the next, I pointed at every place I could remotely recall having some form of pit trap, firewall, wolfsbane, mystery poison, plant attack, paralyzing smoke, electrical shock, magical cage, more wolfsbane, and another bramblebriar sack—this one tucked in a crack of the western wall.
Not all of the traps were still there … and there was a moment when Their Royal Highness turned a sharp smile toward me and asked how I could’ve known about the dais pit trap, since they’d already discovered it moments before I arrived.
I’d been sweating as I said, “My ability lets me see traces of traps, but I can’t guarantee they’re still there. ”
The half-truth had satisfied the fox, and they’d accepted my words. It was John who did all of the actual work of identifying and disarming each of the traps I pointed out, and for that, I was grateful.
I arrived at the front of the hall with eighteen traps total for my tally.
But I wasn’t finished. Standing in front of the dais where Julia was supposed to stand, I closed my eyes, remembering the feel of my hand Voiding and the sound of outraged screams in my ears.
At last, I opened my eyes and pulled a dagger from my storage, throwing it across the room.
Cold mithril touched my throat as John reacted to me drawing a weapon in the sanctuary.
My blade sliced through a candlestick on the small table that was set aside for the signing of the marriage license. A poof of smoke erupted from the candle, and a ninja appeared, bow and arrow drawn.
Their Royal Highness reacted the fastest, turning into a giant multitailed fox spirit and eating the archer while John caught the arrow with his free hand.
“I’m done,” I told the rogue, pretending like panic wasn’t building inside me from how close his knife was to my neck. How close he was. John wasn’t taller than me, like my ex had been, but combined with the threat, it sent me over the edge.
“Apologies.” John lowered the blade pressed against my green skin and took a step back on his own. “And well done.”
I hid my shaking hands by gripping my skirt.
“Well, Miss Gerda!” Rowen turned back into their disguise and rejoined us. “I feel like I can safely say you’ve won this contest—”
“Oh?” Grand Duchess Calisto stood in the sanctuary door, her escort knights in tow. “Don’t cut me short too early, Rowen.”
I curtsied politely to the woman, who smiled at me. “I will summon you if I don’t best your count, Miss Gerda. Thank you for joining in the contest.” It was a clear dismissal. I hesitated.
“Your Grace—” I broached. She raised an eyebrow but let me continue. “I understand that the leader of the Blackfog spies is a portal user?”
Calisto frowned. “Yes?”
“I’m something of a portal user myself—and if I were going to trap me, here is how I’d do it …”
I offered up my suggestions, and John, a shadow portal user, confirmed the idea. Her Grace immediately sent her knight to retrieve an arcane enchantment from her workshop while she got to trap searching.
I’d done all that I could.