His Paladin Read online

  Nicole made pleased noise, apparently satisfied. “Okay, Quinn.” She paused. “I have to put the phone back and go to bed now, but I liked talking to you a lot.”

  “Oh,” I replied, slightly dumbfounded, my chest swelling with the warm fuzzies. “Uh, well, I liked talking to you, too.”

  She giggled. “You’re really nice. I think that’s why my dad likes you so much.”

  I let the words wash over me, positively glowing with the joy that bubbled up inside me. “Good night, Nicole.”

  “‘Night, Quinn.”

  I stared at my phone long after she had hung up, a wistful smile gently spreading across my face. Nicole was a good kid -- a great one, even.

  And I fully intended to keep my promise to her, whether Raine liked it or not.

  16

  Raine

  The Last Battle was here.

  No more preparations. No more time.

  And I wasn’t anywhere near ready.

  I woke at six AM, crawling blearily into the shower, running a comb through my hair for half a second, throwing on the closest clothes I could find. I gathered my armor, my weapons, and Nicole’s sets of both and tossed them into the back of the trunk. Sprinting back inside towards the kitchen, I quickly downed a glass of orange juice and slammed two slices of bread into the toaster: my excuse for breakfast.

  “Nicole!” I called, from the bottom of the stairs, checking my phone for the time. Six twenty. The event started at nine. That gave me maybe two hours to get -- I pulled my tattered, crumpled list out of my pocket, a sliver of ice cold fear slicing through me at the sight of how many things were yet to be crossed off. Two hours left to do it all. Impossible.

  But I had to try and do it anyway.

  “Nicole!” I called again, more urgently this time, and was rewarded with a loud whine.

  “I don’t want to go,” she yelled back. I balked.

  “What do you mean you don’t want to go?” I climbed the stairs and entered her room, utterly bewildered. Sure enough, Nicole had buried herself under her covers. She poked her head out for a brief moment to give me the nastiest scowl I had ever seen from her.

  “I mean I don’t want to go.” She sat up underneath her blanket, clearly folding her arms across her chest. “I’m going to stay here.”

  “You can’t stay here,” I told her, utterly exasperated. “You know that. C’mon, Nicole, I don’t have time for this. I have to get everything ready for the event.”

  She threw the blankets off of herself with a loud shriek. “You don’t have time for anything besides this dumb event!” she shrilled. I blinked at her in shock. “But you never get anything done no matter how hard you work. All you are is mean to your friends who try to help you! Even Quinn!”

  I stared at her, unable to find any words, the mention of Quinn’s name forming a thick lump in my throat. Had I really looked this bad to her? Had I really...behaved this badly in front of her? It was enough to give me real pause, but the impossible pressure of the little time I had left didn’t leave me any room to discuss this with her the way I wanted. “Nicole…honey, please.” I sighed. “I really, really don’t have time for this.”

  She continued to pout, undaunted, and it was obvious we were in a standoff, neither of us willing to budge an inch.

  Finally, after a tense eternity, Nicole finally spoke.

  “I’ll go,” she said, her tone nasty and unpleasant. “But I won’t have any fun. And you won’t have any fun either!”

  “Fine,” I told her, equally nasty, and her eyes narrowed. “So long as you get dressed and into the car.”

  Nicole didn’t even look at me as she finished her cereal, putting on her crown herself and refusing to let me touch her hair at all, insisting she preferred it in her face. After I checked her seatbelt and started the engine, I glanced up at her in the rearview mirror as we pulled out of the driveway, finally ready to head over to Lochmire. She glared back at me, sullen and baneful.

  “You’re the worst,” she told me, flatly.

  “Nicole,” I warned. She made a face, sticking her tongue out defiantly.

  The rest of the ride passed in angry silence. I wasn’t about to argue with my own daughter about an event I had been dreaming of for a lifetime, the stakes involved for my business, the need for absolute perfection in every facet of the event.

  And I certainly wasn’t going to tell her how much I missed Quinn.

  Even during the worst of it, when I had been obnoxiously stressed, lashing out at everyone around me, Quinn’s presence had been reassuring, a steady rock to rest myself on despite being strung out as hell. His gentle but firm demeanor, combined with his sincerity and genuine care were the one bright spot in this whole jumbled mess, clearly showing through despite his mistakes. Mistakes that were hardly his fault in the first place, given how rushed and terrible all of my instructions had been. And now he was gone, torn out of my life, leaving a ragged, empty hole.

  No time to think about that now.

  As I pulled into the Lochmire parking lot, I could already tell something was wrong. Stepping out my car, I met Roux’s worried face, Nicole sullenly shuffling at my heels.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, my tone already heated. Roux shifted uneasily.

  “The check-in system for the rental equipment,” he said reluctantly. “I got it set up --”

  “Without me?” I interrupted, and Roux winced, but then his face hardened.

  “Yeah, without you,” he shot back. “And good thing, too, because it’s not working.”

  I growled, jogging over to take a look. Roux had probably just done something wrong. I examined the tablet on the outdoor setup table, typed in the credentials, and pressed the login button. The loading indicator spun...and then it continued to spin.

  “Login failed,” said a pop-up message.

  The internet was working; a quick search on the tablet’s default browser proved that much.

  “Shit,” I hissed through gritted teeth. Roux shook his head, coming up behind me and looking over my shoulder.

  “I told you,” he said, instantly spiking my anger. “I tried looking up what was wrong with it, but I haven’t found anything.”

  “Keep trying,” I told him. Roux opened his mouth to protest, but quickly snapped it shut, his shoulders slumping as he took the tablet out of my hands. Eric joined him at the table, frowning as he peered at the tablet himself, tapping the screen and shrugging at Roux.

  “Raine!” Kate appeared, her mouth set in a grim line. “The costume supplies. There’s no spirit gum in there, and you’re missing about two dozen sets of elf ears, among other things.”

  I felt the blood leave my face. “What do you mean ‘missing?’”

  Kate arched an eyebrow at me, turning to the side and pointing over at Kurt, who held up his hands over the costume supply box.

  “I mean they’re not there,” she said dryly. “As in, missing.”

  My mind was running a million miles a minute. Had I somehow forgotten to buy more? No, no, I had ordered the costume supplies right after I had…

  No. The realization was ice water in my veins. I hadn’t sent the order at all.

  “Shit,” I said again, low and furious. Nicole looked up at me, her expression still surly. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t need to. Kate looked uncomfortable.

  “Well, what do we do?” she pressed. I pushed out a rough sigh.

  “I’ll have to go to the costume place downtown and get what we need.”

  “Downtown?” Her other eyebrow rose to join the first. “That’s an hour to get there and back.”

  “I can do it,” I snapped, and Kate scoffed, throwing up her hands in frustrated surrender. She turned around, her green cape billowing behind her as she jogged back over to Kurt, the two of them engaging in a furiously animated conversation.

  Already I was going to have to deal with the check-in system being out of commission and replacing missing crucial costume components, and to top it a
ll off, my own daughter hated my guts.

  If this day could get worse, I wasn’t sure how.

  Lucky for me, Greg was able to provide an answer.

  “Er,” Greg started, anxiously adjusting his glasses. “The, uh, dragon seems to be out of commission.” He laughed nervously. “Eaten too many princesses, I suppose.”

  “The dragon eats stupid knights,” Nicole corrected him grumpily. “Not princesses.”

  Greg blinked down at her. “Oh, of -- of course.”

  Nicole harrumphed. Then she left my side without a word, walking over to Roux, who was staring at the tablet helplessly.

  “Greg,” I said, my voice deceptively even. “What do you mean it’s ‘out of commission?’ I just paid a lot of money to have it fixed. It was working yesterday perfectly. And it’s the central fixture of the entire event.”

  He visibly shrank away from me. “Er,” he stammered, “Well, I went to start it up, to get it ready for later this morning, you see, it moved around fine...until it started to, uh, well, spark. And catch on fire.”

  “WHAT!?” The word tore out of my throat, as loud enough to echo at the treeline.

  Greg somehow recoiled even further. I ran, full tilt, towards the dragon. There weren’t any flames -- even Greg could apparently figure out to work a fire extinguisher -- but the dragon’s fabric and rubber scales were clearly burned and singed, leaving the hydraulics of its two arms and half of its face exposed.

  “Oh, no.” I had both hands on my head, clutching at my hair. “No, no, no, no!”

  Greg appeared next to me, breathing hard, despite the short distance. “It’s not a pretty picture, I know,” he said, instantly raising my anger to a frenzied level I didn’t previously believe it could reach. “But maybe with a little paint --”

  “Paint?” I rounded on him, seething in fury, and Greg cowered, his glasses askew. “You think paint is going to fix this, you --”

  “Raine! Stop!” Roux appeared, and quickly stepped between the two of us, both hands up and his palms facing out. “Cool it, okay?”

  I was blistering, burning with rage...but then something inside me cracked, snapped like an over taught string. The anger vanished all at once, leaving me hollow and utterly empty. Roux’s eyes were on me, heavy with concern. Greg peeked out from over his shoulder, confused and terrified.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, my shoulders slumping.

  Roux’s mouth twisted into a worried frown. “C’mon. Let’s go to the main building. Regroup and figure things out.”

  I nodded listlessly. Roux looped an arm around my shoulders, practically dragging me back towards the main building. As we passed the field, I saw that everything around me was complete confusion, people running aimlessly about, everyone frowning as they spoke, pointing to things and shaking their heads.

  Ruined. I had ruined the Last Battle. I had ruined Lochmire. All because I couldn’t step down and let people in out of some misguided belief that only I knew what was best.

  Roux got me into a chair, pressed a cup of water into my hands. “Hey, Raine.” His voice was thick with worry. He leaned down, completely filling my vision.

  “It’s over.” My voice was hollow, listless. “I’ve ruined everything.”

  Roux sighed. “It’s not over. Not yet. Let’s just...take a minute, okay?”

  A minute wasn’t going to solve this, not by a longshot. Nothing was going to solve this. I was helpless, and hopeless, without a single idea of how to address the multitude of problems that I had single-handedly created. Everything was in freefall, a wild tailspin spiraling completely out of my control. I just needed something safe, something solid, just to get my feet back under me.

  I needed Quinn.

  The idea of talking to him again, feeling him beside me again, rekindled a tiny spark of hope in my shattered heart. But, God, would he even pick up after the way I talked to him when we left things?

  “I’m going to call Quinn.” There was steel in my voice now, something resolute. Everything was crumbling around me, but if Quinn was there, maybe we could at least pick up the pieces. Roux nodded.

  “He promised to help you,” Roux said softly. “I think he will. And you, my friend, need some real help right now.”

  I fished for my phone in my jacket pocket, but it was somehow gone, along with my to-do list. Roux watched my fruitless searching, pulling out his own phone and taking the cup of water to hand it to me. A missing phone and now useless to-do list just seemed like icing on the cake at this point; I found I couldn’t muster enough feeling to care about either one.

  Quinn. The weight of Roux’s phone in my hands seemed impossibly heavy. What could I even say to him, after everything I had put him through? A hundred thousand potential apologies raced through my mind, but none of them were enough. I looked helplessly at Roux, who half-smiled in sympathy.

  “Don’t worry about apologizing right now,” he said gently. “Just talk to him.”

  I nodded. Tapping the phone with trembling fingers, I entered Quinn’s number, and brought the screen up to my face.

  The phone rang. And rang.

  A click, and then straight to voicemail.

  Roux’s eyes widened as I pulled the phone away, staring down at the screen, completely and utterly lost.

  Quinn didn’t answer, and whatever tiny piece was left of my hopes fell into an empty, bottomless void.

  17

  Quinn

  Miller placed the last of the silicone pointed ears in the near-full shopping cart as Nguyen was dutifully pushed it down the aisle. Perez was further ahead, scouting for more items: theater makeup, latex, and easy-to-apply fangs.

  “That makes twelve pairs of ears, Sarge,” Nguyen announced.

  “Great.” I turned to the phone, my eyes scanning the shelves. “What was that other stuff called?”

  “Spirit gum,” Nicole informed me at the other end of the line. “It’s like glue, kind of, but for ears and beards and claws and stuff. We need a lot.”

  I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t seriously thought about skipping the Last Battle entirely and just taking the squad to the bowling alley, stale pizza and the ever-present musty, moldy smell notwithstanding. I hadn’t spoken to Raine since his blow-up -- there was a strong possibility he didn’t want me anywhere near the event at all. But I’d made a promise to Nicole, and the squad -- well, Perez and Miller, anyway -- had gotten more into the LARPing idea than I’d expected. When Nicole had called, armed with her dad’s phone, a long list of things that needed to be picked up, and grim reports about the current state of Lochmire, there wasn’t any way I was going to refuse to help out.

  Raine didn’t abandon me, when I had told him about Grace -- he had stayed right by my side and listened, tried to comfort me, made me feel safe and whole in a way I had never felt with anyone I told before. I never would be able to forgive myself if I had abandoned him now.

  “Thanks.” I took the phone away from my face. “We’re looking for spirit gum, Perez.”

  “Got it right here, Sergeant,” she replied. “How many we need?”

  “Intel says, and I quote, ‘a lot.’”

  Perez peered at the selection in front of her, frowning, and then gathered a handful of bottles, returning to the cart and carefully examining the labels with Miller, Nguyen poking his head between their shoulders to inspect them as well.

  “It says a little goes a long way,” Miller said, “so this should be enough.” He made a skeptical face. “I mean, I hope so?”

  I nodded, turning my attention to the phone once again, this time putting Nicole on speaker. “We need any other costume related things, Nicole?”

  “Beards,” Nicole said. “For any dwarves. And, um, druid...in...indee…” She trailed off with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t read this one.”

  “Can you spell it?” I asked her.

  “I think so. I-N-D-I-C-A-T-O-R-S.”

  “That’s ‘indicators.’” Druid indicators? I had no idea what the hell that
could mean. “You did a great job Nicole, but, uh, I don’t know what that is.”

  “I’m a druid,” Perez said. “That’s my character class.” She tapped her chin, frowning in thought. “It probably means something that lets people tell if we’ve used our beast form ability at a glance. Visual shorthand for ‘someone just turned into a bear.’”

  Nguyen wrinkled his nose. “What the hell would be shorthand for that?”

  “Swear jar,” Nicole piped up. I gave Nguyen a sharp look; he replied with a sheepish smile.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Miller said, grinning. “But we’ll need to stop at a grocery store.”

  “We’ll finish up here and head out,” I said. The three of them nodded in unison, heading towards the beards, Nguyen pushing the shopping cart at a speed that probably wasn’t safe. I took the phone off speaker, placed it back near my face.

  “How’s your dad doing?” I asked Nicole, keeping my voice low.

  “Not good,” she said sadly. “All this stuff is bad, and Greg ruined the dragon somehow.”

  “Damn,” I muttered. Raine had put a lot on getting the dragon back into working order - that had to be a huge blow.

  “Swear jar,” Nicole replied absently. I heard the sound of rustling paper. “We got all the hardware store things, the extra foam stuff, and the costume pieces.” She sounded unbelievably happy. “That’s everything we need to get!”

  “Good,” I told her, smiling.

  “There’s still a lot of stuff to do, though, when you get here,” she pointed out.

  “We’ll take care of that when we show up, and we’ll be there soon.” I glanced up, seeing my trio look back at me, now waiting in the checkout line, a small pile of fake facial hair on top of the cart, Nguyen waving his arms impatiently to get my attention.

  “I got to go now, Nicole,” I said. “But thank you for calling me.”

  “Thank you for helping like you promised!” I heard an odd gurgling noise on the other end of the line, the telltale sound of an empty stomach.