The saucepan hat dude jumps up and down and claps his hands. “Yes, I get a mission.”
They’re sending Barry the Unreliable? Ugh, could be worse. Stabitha the sneaky sorceress could be joining us.
“And Stabitha,” Robin adds. What a mellow. They could have at least sent the guy with snacks.
I lean toward Pudding Tom. “Do you happen to have a sweet treat? I fear I’m a little low on blood sugar.”
He grins and flings open his cloak. For a terrifying tempo, I worry he’s going to flash us and that will be the end of his sausage. But alas, something far more scrumptious is presented. A garment lined with little pockets, and out of the top peeks an array of cakes and mini fruit pies. “Take your pick, Daphne, in an apology for holding you hostage.”
We were never hostages, but I’d never rain on the guy with the food’s parade.
I lick my lips. “Is that a cherry pie?”
He nods and draws a paper-wrapped mini pie from his top-left pocket. “Best my mama ever made.”
I smile as I take the pie from him. “Tell your mama thank you.”
He salutes me and snaps his cloak closed. I need a cloak like that. All I have is Malachi’swe get freaky on the back of a horseouterwear. We need an upgrade to snacks and sausage.
Robin turns and swings his hood up. “Remaining BUTTs, embark to the trees and lay in wait for a suitable victim. We shall report this incident to ASS tonight.”
They scatter like startled squirrels, and within a split tempo, the forest swallows them whole, even those meant to clear the way for us.
Silence returns. Hart stares after them. Nash rubs the bridge of his nose. Malachi bursts out laughing.
“That’s impressive,” I say.
“How they disappear?” Theo asks. His voice is a little less growly the more he uses it.
“No, the cherry pie,” I answer as I eat the treat in two bites and lick my fingers clean. “Ooh, a cherry just popped in my mouth.”
“I have no words,” Hart mutters as he urges his horse forward.
Theo presses his forehead to the back of my head and mutters, “Only you could survive an assassination attempt that turns into charity work.”
I grin and gesture toward the forest. “Well, at least someone in this realm is redistributing wealth.” Actually… “Hey guys in the bushes?” Stabitha slides out of the dark and walks beside us. “And girls,” I add.
She winks at me. “How can I help you, Daphne?”
By not eyeballing my knights.“How do you determine who gets the riches?”
She raises a brow. “You want to know our charter?”
“A summary, but no details. I have no room for those.”
“Well, we most often take what we loot and swap it for essentials at the market, then distribute those. Like food and clothing.”
“That’s smart,” I agree.
“Thanks. I came up with it.”
Of course she did. That’s why women should rule the realm.
“Can I ask you a question?” she ventures.
“Of course, I’m an open book.”
“Sometimes too open,” Hart grumbles.
