“How did you get rid of the monster?” asked Rusk.

Mandy smiled at him and didn’t answer. Iraiah and her shared a look. A secret look.

“I am more concerned with how this king of yours is to be usurped,” said Flow.

Rusk and the others thought on this, and Rusk noticed with dread in his heart the absence of Felix. He was afraid to ask, afraid of the answer. Then again, maybe he’d found some clever way out of trouble despite his condition. He was the smartest guy Rusk had ever met. And Loretta had his back. But still.

“I am not sure I want to be a part of this mission anymore,” said Flow. “Our last attempt failed miserably, and I have a home on my island. It is not my duty to bring down your king or its necromancer. Though I would very much like to kill that excuse for a person.”

“If you wanna take out the necromancer be my guest,” said Rusk, growing annoyed with her indecision. “The king’s mine if no one else will take him. I have a vested interest.”

“As do I,” said Iraiah. And her eyes glittered with rage.

“He had one of our friends killed. A child from the slums named Everard,” explained Mandy.

He’d killed a child? Well that bumped him up on the evilness meter. Rusk glared at Flow. But he wasn’t really glaring at her, more like past her, a shared glare between them at this realization.

“I can provide explosives,” said Iraiah. “That’s how we got you out. I mean obviously. And Mandy’s best shot in the world far as I’m concerned.”

“You flatter me. That brings another issue.” Mandy brought the Dragons Knock right out of the Elva, so easily with a flick of her tender wrist, and handed it over to Rusk. “It chose you as its archer. The king is yours. Fell him. Iraiah and I will be your support, and you’ll not find a better support in the kingdom, trust me.”

“I trust you,’’ said Rusk with a smile. The smile from their childhood, an agreement in shared history. No one could take that trust. No one. Not even a necromancer or the king or eons of time.

“Shall we get past this planning and get on with it?” said the Dragons Knock, and Rusk heard him out in the open not just inside his head.

“You can talk for real?”

“Yes you dolt.”

Rusk made a face. He wasn’t a dolt.

“Now then. Your comrades. You’ve been thinking about them, wondering if they’ve survived, and I have bad news for you.”

Rusk braced himself. It seemed the rest of the room did as well, with Mandy and Iraiah and Flow all tensing their shoulders and holding their collective breath.

“Gedresial is slain.”

Rusk sat down and pinched his nose. He blew out a sigh. “And Felix? Loretta?”

Dragons Knock was silent. “I do not know these names.”

“You’d know them by their relation to me.” Rusk thought of Felix, then Loretta. And the image of the necromancer and crusaders rushed back to him. He saw the terror on Loretta’s face all over again. The scream of the hawk… the hawk! The hawk of bones. Where was the hawk?

“An apt question,” said Dragons Knock.

“What? What’s an apt question? No one asked a question,” said Iraiah.

“There’s telepathy in ancient weaponry,” said Mandy. “The monster taught me that.”

“Oh.”

“And what apt question has Rusk asked?” asked Flow.

“The hawk. Gedresial’s hawk.” Rusk stood up from the chair and paced around the tiny cottage. The world seemed a little brighter, ironically since he was currently thinking on the location of one which was basically a dead pile of bones reanimated. “I wonder where it went, if Gedresial is… no longer.” Why couldn’t he bring himself to say dead? He knew death. He knew. Perhaps he’d had too much, been through too many trials, to add another to that gigantic list.

“And a hawk helps us how exactly?” Iraiah crossed her arms. “Mandy are you sure this guy is gonna work with our plan? I mean he’s kinda dull if you ask me.”

Mandy sighed this ginormous opinionated sigh.

“The hawk was made of bones.” Flow latched onto Rusk’s thinking automatically. If anything, besides being his crush and hopefully lover later, she was also on the same wavelength. “And a hawk of bones could fly over the radar around a necromancer. Easier for planning if we can find it. The problem lies in finding it.”

“I can find it,” said Mandy.

Rusk glanced up at her tone. This was the Mandy he knew. The one who searched for keys. The one who collected and found and did all manner of other clever things for people who might not ever thank her. God he’d missed her. He thought for a moment after he’d been reunited with her that maybe part of her that he knew had disappeared along with the monster. The way she bustled around the cottage, pacing this way and that but also gathering bits and bobs, whatever tiny trinkets she’d brought with her, reignited the hope that they could have their friendship last longer than the end of this mission. Friendship. He’d made many friends over his journey, and still didn’t know if most of them had survived. Not only was he a crap Hero, he was a terrible friend.

But he put those thoughts aside because they weren’t useful right now. He could dwell and wallow later. Right now the priority was the hawk.

“So,” said Rusk. “How are you gonna find a hawk that’s not yours? I know I brought up the idea but now I have no idea what you’re even doing.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mandy shouldered a pack and grabbed her own perfectly carved bow. It had been upgraded with a brilliant golden string now that Rusk was paying attention. Her arrows had white and silver fletchings too. Now he was paying attention, he felt it. He felt the magic. So perhaps she’d gained something even more since ridding herself of the monster. That gave him more hope than anything else had so far. And then she said: “I’m going to consult my monster. You’re welcome to come along.” She smiled at everyone, and though it was small there was so much daring in it that no one could back out of the challenge. “That is if monsters don’t scare you.”