Excitement, apprehension, fear, and surprise, a whirlwind of emotions carried me up the stairs. I looked to Bernadette at my side. She gave me a concerned expression. I could feel the emotions coalesce into something more mellow. What could go wrong if she was there? We were damn near unstoppable.

  “I think it’s Berryhop,” I said.

  “Why would it be Berryhop? We’re a thousand miles from the Kingswood.”

  “I think I’ve been having prophetic dreams about her.”

  “What? How?”

  “Not sure,” I said. “They stopped right before the opera opening.”

  “Good, I guess,” she said.

  Soon, we were out the front door and into the snow. Down the freshly scraped path, near the gate, stood a small party on a colorful carpet, surrounded by about five guards.

  Upon getting closer I was able to make out the party. An orcish man towered over the rest, an elven woman by his side. Next to them was a gnome with white hair. A curl of pink had escaped her hair ribbon.

  It was her.

  “I know her!” I said. “I’ve been expecting her!”

  “Really?” Bernie asked quietly, as we approached.

  “No, I am completely dumbfounded, but they need in,” I whispered back.

  “Zach! My friend!” called G’nash, with a toothy grin.

  I smiled and waved. The elven woman, I couldn’t tell which bartending sister it was at first glance, huddled closer to the orc and smiled too. Berryhop frowned.

  Oh, and Braelyn was there too.

  “Glad you could make it in one piece!” I said.

  The guards let them through. G’nash stayed behind to roll up the carpet, so the girls walked up without him.

  There, in that snowy path, I met Berryhop again.

  A lifetime of experiences separated us. I could see that she’d become someone much more formidable. Potions hung from a bandolier across her chest, and a large dagger from her belt. A strange crossbow poked up from behind her shoulder. But also too, the eyes she gazed back at me with had steel behind them. She was not the carefree woman I’d known.

  “I am a little surprised,” I said, “but I’m glad you’re safe.” I took a guess at her companion. “Is this Dalara?”

  “It is,” Berryhop said. Dalara kept her hands on the twin swords hanging from her belt.

  “Then I’m glad to see her too. What brings you here?”

  “Can we talk inside?” she asked.

  I nodded, and soon we were in at the ground floor coat check. Here they stowed their weapons, though I was able to convince them that the potions were no harm.

  Soon, we were in the mess hall. We got some food and all sat down together.

  “Food is good,” Dalara said, “though I find the meat a little heavy,” she said, referring to the roast duck.

  “Yeah, the cooks are phenomenal here,” Bernadette said. “Though I don’t think anyone will be matching your stew. It was divine.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  “Okay,” Berryhop interrupted. “I’ll just get into it.”

  “Take your time. Or you can tell us later,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  “I poisoned you,” she blurted out.

  “Really?” I replied. “I feel fine.”

  “No, when we were dating. I didn’t know if it would actually work, but that’s no excuse. I gave you the dreamtwin mushroom. It, well, it connected us in dreams. How it works is complicated, but you sort of lived as me, and I you. But only when asleep.”

  “Well that explains the dreams,” I said.

  “What dreams?” Bernadette asked.

  “I’m sure Berryhop can explain.”

  “Well,” she said. “Uh. I didn’t know how it worked. Or even that it would work at all! It was silly. I knew that you would leave, eventually, and I wanted to go with you, but I couldn’t leave Brindletree. Not then at least,” she said, eyes suddenly shadowed by pain. Then she looked up at me, pleading almost. “So. I put some dreamtwin mushroom in your soup.”

  “Huh,” I said as a way to delay having to respond. This was not how I expected this to go. I just sort of thought I had an active imagination.

  “But what does it do?” Bernie prodded, her face unreadable.

  “It connects our minds, and when we dream, it replays the events of the day for the other person, so even though you are apart, you can see the events of the other’s lives. It’s a way to connect people that cannot be connected.”

  “That’s… that’s kind of fucked up,” Bernie aknowledged.

  “I know!” Berryhop said, flinging her face on the table and hiding it behind her arms. “I’m a monster!”

  Bernadette laughed. I cringed a little inside. It wasn’t a good thing she did. But I’d done worse. In the scheme of things, it was almost harmless. And in fact, I’d grown to have enjoyed the dreams. But I didn’t say that.

  What I did say was, “you made a mistake Berryhop. And I should rightly be mad. But I haven’t had the dreams in some time. Did it wear off?”

  “No,” she said, small and under her arms. “I made an antidote.”

  “Well, thanks. What made you change your mind?”

  “Um,” she looked up at first Bernadette, then me. “Well when you two had the date on the boat.”

  “Ah,” I said.

  “Yikes,” Bernadette said.

  “It wasn’t unenjoyable,” Berryhop said, with an apologetic grimace. “But I certainly was impressed by the, um, transgressive nature of my mistake.”

  “Wait,” Dalara cut in, “you watched them have intercourse?”

  “We didn’t actually hook up,” I said.

  “Eh,” Bernadette cut in, “that’s debatable.”

  Dalara’s eyes went wide.

  “It was close,” I admitted.

  Bernadette, and I laughed nervously.

  Berryhop was technically my ex, but it was hard to be mad at her. It wasn’t just her cuteness, she had an intractable earnestness. Also, It was a mistake I could have made. It’s not like I didn’t stalk my previous ex’s socials after we broke up. This was certainly much more invasive, but I understood the urge to not let go.

  “Uuuuughhh,” Berryhop groaned. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I’m okay with it,” Bernadette said, “as long as you don’t do it again.”

  “Never!” Berryhop said. “Never in a million years!”

  Bernadette smiled at me. I shrugged.

  “What’s with the potions?” I asked.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Oh. Uh, which ones?”

  I pointed to the bandoleer.

  “Oh!” she continued. “Well this one,” she pointed to a luminous blue liquid, “is a catalyst for several effects. It sets a mist on the ground and if I toss this one into it,” she said then pointed at a transparent, brackish liquid next to it on the bandoleer. “Then it explodes into fire. But if I toss this one,” she pointed to a black liquid. “It erupts into an ice wall.”

  “Impressive,” I said.

  “I know, right?”

  Bernadette smiled at her, then looked at me.

  “It’s nice to see you again, despite the, uh, the poisoning. Why are you here?”

  “I can answer that,” Dalara said, her sparkling green eyes gazing at me intently. “The Black Lions want to make a deal with Ailmer and King Caleb, and I guess you two as well.”

  “The Black Lions?” I asked. I, of course, remembered the medallions on the bodies of the bandits we killed. And filling in the blanks of what I knew from my dreams, it makes sense that she’d have joined them. But had they really climbed so high that she was making deals for them?

  “Yes. I know you may have some less than pleasant interactions with them in the past, but traveling mercenary forces need to resupply however they can. And they are under much more competent leadership now.”

  “You?” Bernie asked.

  “I am one of them, yes. We have a broad leadership structure that allows for great flexibility.”

  “‘No Kings, Just Captains,’” cut in Berryhop reverently.

  “Just so,” Dalara agreed.

  “And I am renouncing my membership,” Berryhop said with some sadness, “or I guess hopefully renouncing, to study here. I’ve heard this is the best magic school in the country.”

  “That’s what they say,” I offered.

  “How is the South?” Bernadette asked.

  “Not good,” Berryhop admitted. “Brindletree is gone. My family joined the Black Lions as scouts and foragers, but none of them are as good as me. We’re struggling. Pendras has fallen to the dragon. The king is on the run. I’ve, uh, decided that my fortune is best made through my skills as an adventurer. That way I can send coin back to my family.”

  “I'm very sorry, Berryhop,” Bernadette said, reaching her hand out and touching it gently.

  “World’s a dangerous place,” Berryhop said, nonchalantly. “I only hope to do what I can.”

  At that moment G’nash returned, and Dalara ran to greet him. With all three of them gathered, they bid us goodbye so as to set themselves up in the guest quarters. Berryhop had a slate now, and said that she’d message us when it was time for the official meeting with Mark.

  I gave her my Number Identity Set, which she needed to contact me, then left to give them some space. Last I saw of them, G’nash was piling his tray up with copious amounts of meat.

  I wanted to brief Mark before the meeting, so none of this would be a surprise, and we took the stairs slowly. Despite all of its wonders, the tower still relied on stairs to get everywhere. There was supposedly an elevator for bulky items, but it wasn’t open to the public.

  “Berryhop is cute,” Bernie said, as we waited to catch our breath between floors. Most people did this, traveled in pairs or groups, and congregated on the small landings to socialize. Several people passed us as we talked.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “But she’s different now.”

  “How so?”

  “The potion thing is new. And she’s got, like, a sadness in her.”

  “I didn’t see that,” Bernie said. “I think she’s happier now. She’s ashamed of it because it doesn’t serve her family, but she loves those potions, and the freedom it gives her.”

  “Maybe,” I said, stroking the stubble on my chin.

  “She’s also pretty curvy for a little person, so I get it.”

  “Oh do you?” I replied. “Do I sense some resentment?”

  “Of her? Nah. What about G’nash? Heard he and Busty-elf-tits McGee are in an open relationship. Maybe I’d like a piece of that.”

  “You trying to make me jealous?” I asked, folding my arms, and leaning against the wall opposite her. “I don’t get jealous.”

  This was a lie. I wasn’t the jealous controlling type, but I had a healthy sense of possessiveness for my romantic partners. I was just trying to play it cool.

  “Oh really?” she asked, stepping closer. “I like that, that’s good. But damn if I don’t want to test your ‘aw shucks’ good guy act.”

  “It’s not an act. Not that I’m a good guy, I just can’t act.”

  Bernie trailed a finger along my shoulder, then settled into a spot leaning on the wall right next to me.

  “What if I tried my hand at Dalara instead? Would that make you jealous?”

  “I know I’m not supposed to treat that any differently, but I honestly think that’s sort of rad.”

  I was only half serious about that.

  Bernie snorted, and rolled her eyes.

  “Of course,” she groaned.

  “You know, my last serious boyfriend said the same thing,” she continued. “He thought having a bisexual girlfriend was hot, until I flirted with another girl, and then it was all ‘which friend are you hanging out with?’ or ‘who else is going to be at that party?’”

  “Every story you tell about this guy makes him seem worse and worse.”

  “Yeah, he sucked.”

  “Then let’s not talk about him if you don’t want,” I offered.

  “Look,” she said, “liking girls is cool. Girls are hot. I get that. But it’s not some kind of accessory a guy gets to have. It’s mine.”

  “You don’t have a monopoly on finding women attractive,” I added playfully.

  “Yeah, but my feelings are my own.”

  “Of course. What’s this about?”

  Bernadette shrugged.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll say again,” I ran a finger along her jaw to direct her face right at me. “I’m not the jealous type. But I can pretend to be, if you think that would be fun.”

  She smiled wide.

  “I like to flirt, and if you pretend that bothers you, it would make it more fun. I just don’t want it to actually bother you.”

  “You demon,” I said facetiously, grabbing her by the waist, “there’s no stopping you is there?”

  “I’m unstoppable,” she said lustily.

  I pulled her in, nuzzled her neck. She sighed. I kissed her lightly on the neck, then cheek, then pulled away.

  “More stairs?” she asked.

  “More stairs.”

  Here’s the thing about the Arcane Academy: the entire top four floors were exclusively Mark’s. The first two were his private library, separate from the school’s, and the third was his private study. The very top floor was only spoken of in hushed tones. Apparently, that was his secret project.

  Once we got to his library, we found a sturdy door wrapped in long lines of glowing runes that marched tidily down the surface of the wood. Bernadette keyed in the passcode, his birthday, and we walked right in. Hardly a secure code.

  Word among the staff was that he kept it intentionally easy, so that cheeky students may feel like they were accessing more knowledge than they were allowed. In reality, he encouraged students to seek outside their grasp. Apparently, this school was incredibly competitive.

  Inside were a lower and upper deck composed of hundreds of shelves, with ladders on railings strewn this way and that. Little reading nooks were pocketed between and several students, as well as one faculty, could be found reading in them.

  I waved at Professor Graves, and moved on to the stairs up.

  “You know that guy?” Bernadette asked.

  “Yeah, Illusionist teacher. Not even sure if it’s him or one of his doubles, but it’s best to be polite either way. Chill guy all things considered.”

  She nodded, and we arrived at the next door. This one had a more difficult code. It was a series of numbers that changed monthly, and only given out on a need to know basis.

  Inside, lay a room much like the previous, though without any students. Its only inhabitant stood patiently next to the fireplace, above which sat a massive oversized portrait of a woman.

  I texted Mark, then we waited.

  The thing standing next to the fireplace approached us, then bowed.

  “Uh,” I said, “I guess some tea?”

  It nodded, then walked toward the teaset placed on the cart next to the fireplace.

  “What is that?” Bernie asked.

  “I mean, it’s a robot,” I said, gesturing to it.

  The thing moved through the space with inhuman silky smooth grace, as it assembled the items needed for tea. The joints showed as copper, or something like it, but the bulk of it was made up of smooth white porcelain material. The edges of the plates had been adorned with gold embellishments, and between the plates revealed hints of the wirework underneath. The face, such as it was, looked like a single molded piece of the porcelain in a gently smiling, genderless mask.

  “Okay,” Bernie said, “but where did he get it?”

  I shrugged.

  “Billie,” Mark said, walking down from the stairs that presumably led to his office, cloak fluttering behind him. “You’ll make one for me as well.”

  The robot smartly waved at him, and quickly retrieved a third cup.

  We sat near the fire, and filled him in on recent developments as Billie served us the tea. It was great, and I appreciated the caffeine.

  “So wait,” I interrupted Bernadette as she was finishing up her summary of the last couple days events, “why do you call him Billie?”

  Bernadette frowned.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “Serial number on his shoulder,” he said, brushing a limp piece of black hair from his forehead. He pivoted back to the more pressing matter. “I think it’s fine that this, Berryhop was it? It’s fine that she join the academy. If she’s as good as you say, she’ll be a delightful addition to the school. But this Black Lions thing concerns me.”

  “How so?” Bernie asked.

  “Part of Caleb’s trouble securing a victory against Sofia is his lack of well trained troops. The Black Lions were his honor guard that he abandoned. Or well, we abandoned, I guess. I teleported him out, stranding them. Some defected and became the Knights of the Word, and some became these Black Lions.” His icy blue eyes cut to me. “I am a little surprised that my guards let them in, as they could be holding a grudge.”

  “Well, I know Dalara,” I added.

  “Do you? How do you expect a barmaid became the head of a mercenary company so fast? Serving drinks?”

  “Okay, maybe not that well.”

  “Any other good news to share?” he asked.

  I looked to Bernie.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “We’re dating now,” I said.

  “Good for you,” he said, standing. “Now, I have important projects to tend to before the meeting. I’d rather be as far along as I can be before I get assassinated.”

  “I wouldn’t let—”

  “That was a joke,” he said, turning and walking up the steps. “Help yourself to a book while you’re here. Billie knows the place back to front.”

  “What are you working on?” Bernadette asked.

  “You’ll see,” he said, without even a backward glance.

  The robot stood at attention, and nodded wordlessly.

  I turned to Bernadette.

  “Rachel thinks I’m too harsh on him,” I said. “But I think he’s a jerk.”

  “He had teleportation magic,” Bernadette replied, “and chose to stay here anyway. I’ll let you guess what I think of that.”