“Leave the planning to you? You took charge before we ever met you. Convincing everyone to come to Misfortune, hosting the meetings in your private residence, deciding every little detail without waiting for anyone else’s opinion.”
Fitz’s jaw dropped as he stared at Maximus in disbelief. “You think I wanted to do all of that?”
Something giggled nearby, the sound both cheerful and menacing. They paused their argument, but the sound didn’t repeat.
“None of you offered any input,” Fitz whispered, picking up right where they’d left off.
“Maybe if you’d given us more time to think, but no, you had to rush, rush, rush through the process.”
A second giggle followed the first.
“Because we have a deadline!” Fitz shoved Maximus hard toward the door. “We couldn’t risk dragging our feet.”
The door opened a crack, a flash of green and purple on the other side.
“I never wanted to go on a quest to begin with!” Maximus shouted. “I would have preferred to get married!”
A soft gasp from the audience.
Fitz gawked at him. “To who? Angelica? Delilah?”
A soft blush darkened Maximus’ cheeks and he shook his head sharply. “I wanted to marry …”
Tension thickened the air, waiting for the confession.
Fitz and Maximus lunged at the same time, snatching up the little eavesdroppers. They’d only expected the two who had delivered the message at the beginning of their journey, so the pink one almost escaped. It fluttered away from them, almost out of reach, when Maximus’ hand closed on its barbed tail.
“Ow!” The sound was equal parts pain and offense as Maximus dragged the imp into his arms. He had one cradled in each now, and they squirmed and wriggled, wings flapping and tail lashing as they struggled.
“Watch their teeth,” Fitz warned as he wrestled his captive into submission. He didn’t know how to tie up an imp, so he simply wrapped the rope around it, turning it into a little hemp bundle with clawed feet and watery black eyes. “They’re venomous.”
“And poisonous,” the pink one chirped, momentarily forgetting to struggle.
Fitz plucked the pink imp from Maximus’ arm and gave it the same treatment as the first. By the time he finished, Maximus had tied up the last imp, closing off his knot with a dainty bow.
“Meanies,” the green imp complained, throwing itself flat on the ground. It rolled over and over, like a little ball, kicking its feet. “We’resupposed to set traps, not you!”
The other two also kicked uselessly, tiny heads thrashing through the air. It took several minutes for them to finally give up, their heads drooping in defeat.
“Wilde’s gonna be so mad at us,” the purple one bemoaned.
The other two openly cried at the realization.
Fitz’s heart clenched at their weeping. An apology pressed against his lips, but he forced it down. “You’re better performers than we are.”
The pink one immediately stopped. “We’ve been practicing!” Then started crying again, the tears loud and noisy.
“Shit.” Fitz reached forward to silence it, then ripped his hand away when he remembered its sharp teeth.
“We’ll be quiet if you give us sweets,” the green one said.
“I don’t have any sweets.”
The imp inhaled deeply, then wailed at the top of its lungs.
Fitz and Maximus hurried from the room, leaving them to cry themselves hoarse.
“Rude!” they declared in unison, right before Fitz closed the door.
