Mastick's moustache shrugged as he sat across from me. I wasn't sure whether he was smiling, trying not to smile, or suffering from constipation. I bit down on my natural instinct to ask him whether it was his 'difficult poo' face. His room in the Watch HQ was simple and functional. If Uncle Don's office was a ten course banquet with laid-on entertainment, Mastick's was bread and water. Stale bread... And pond water.

"This room serves my purpose," he said quietly, and I realised my eyes had been roving.

"What purpose is that - boring suspects into confessing their crimes?"

The moustache twitched. "Whatever works. Do you have something you need to tell me?"

"Yes," I snorted, grinning. "I confess I corrupted a Watch Sergeant. He's come dangerously close to flippant comments."

He placed his hands on the simple, square desk between us. "I have to be honest, I don't know how I feel about where we've ended up. Did you solve the case?"

I shifted. The basic chair was as comfortable as hot, jagged stones. If it didn't give me piles, it was determined to replicate the sensation. I envied Terence, standing behind me with his arms crossed like a sweaty statue. I shrugged, although I didn't feel that casual. "Some bad people are dead, and the likely culprit is at large, but I feel like whoever it is may be done with Pennylast for the time being."

He blinked. "Parts of the town collapsed, innocents were hurt, I've got dubious characters now thinking I owe them favours, and to top it off, the Carmen are demanding better pay and the council is blaming me for it!"

"I have it on good authority that if you flirt with Carmen Dennis, he tends to give you what you want - especially if you're rude to him. Try that - it might help defuse things." I couldn't resist smiling.

"Hah!" Mastick smiled back. "Something tells me that's a you tactic, not a me tactic." He placed a significant wad of bank notes on the table. "Payment, as agreed. I'm not sure you really solved things, but you certainly brought them to a head."

I nodded. "Head is our specialty." Damn, it's a good job Lindon isn't here!

He pushed the pile of notes towards me. "Do you need security to escort you to the bank?"

"Nah." I looked straight up at the undersides of Terence's pecs and cleared my throat. He reached over me, grabbed the money, and deposited it in his loin cloth. "I have a mobile safe deposit box."

Mastick couldn't stop the frown from wrinkling his forehead. "I really wish I hadn't watched that." He fixed those burning eyes back on mine. "What are you planning to do now? Nothing too damaging to Pennylast, I hope."

"Something usually crops up for me and the boys." I reached back and patted Terence - hopefully somewhere appropriate. A memory flashed through my head - smoke, fingers, mortal fear. I stood up and shook Mastick's hand. "And if not, I have a bone to pick with a wizard."

*****

"To working," said Lindon, hoisting his beer.

"Ta gettin' paid," countered Harry.

"It's been a funny job, this one," I said, sipping my ale and peeling my lip from the rim of the tankard. "I feel like I've done too much chatting, way too much thinking, and not enough violent, unhinged face-rearranging."

Terence swallowed his entire drink in one go and slammed his cup down with a crash and a thunderous belch that - I swear - actually wafted my hair from across the table. "I can drink to that."

There were a few rounds of applause from nearby tables - the Dragon's Tail was unusually busy today.

"The Royal family is in town," said Lindon. "It seems that's good for business." He shifted in his seat. "What's happening to Smiff?"

"He's in the watch infirmary," I said. "I asked Mastik to lay off him while we decide what to do."

"Ken we trust him?" said Harry quietly. "Uh kinda liked the fella."

I shrugged. "We'll see. I'm thinking of paying him a penny for a job's work, and seeing where we go from there." A penny was classic mercenary pay for a probationary task.

"So," said Terence, refilling his tankard from a jug. "Are we going to kill this wizard?"

Lindon snorted. "Personally, I'll be happy if we never encounter him again, but something tells me that's not going to happen."

"Yeah," I said. "He's not done with us. We need to keep eyes open, ears to the ground, and all those other things people say when they mean you're in trouble. Next job we do, it needs to be away from here - somewhere we can see danger coming."

A throat was cleared behind me by somebody so posh, they could cough with a haughty accent. "Am I addressing The Companions?"

I followed Lindon's admiring smirk to the man behind me. He was dressed in bright green leggings and a bold blue tabard with gold trim. I gave him a snake's chance of flying when it came to getting out of here with his clothing intact.

"I hope you're here to hire us as bodyguards, Lord Stiffwhittle, or whatever your name is, because in about five breaths, you're going to need us."

Despite a slightly perturbed expression, he unrolled a scroll to read from. "By royal decree, the mercenary group known as The Companions is summonsed to appear before the royal family, for the purpose of a most important commission."

"Surely the royal family should get to go first," said Lindon's voice behind me, but I ignored him.

I raised my eyebrows at the messenger. "What kind of commission?"

Despite his poise, I could see a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like someone had a string attached to it. "Dangerous yet lucrative."

Turning to the others, I couldn't keep a smile from my own face. "Drink up, guys. Sounds like we have work to do."


THE END