Newly Broke Heroine! [Book One Complete, Cozy Fantasy Adventure]

Glados paced in her cell in the dungeon, fuming.

All that work, all that planning, ruined. All because of one complete ditz of a woman who stumbled into solutions as if gifted to her by the gods.

Her pacing was a futile effort. There wasn't much room to pace in the cell. Unlike the cells she'd heard of from Vale, Faredala, and other countries, these weren't terrible accommodations.

She poked her face out of the bars, where two guards were stationed. Both of them idly talked about–well, it didn't matter. They were oblivious to her.

I'm a mage. I'm a shapeshifter. I can get out of this one. I need to get out of here before Rikkard gets back. She tapped the bars impatiently, pondering how to get out and how to enact vengeance.

The plan wasn't a total loss. Fiefdala was bankrupt on paper. Not even Barry's futile efforts had moved the needle. The elf, however, was savvy enough that she could pull off eliminating the debt she'd been causing this country over several years. All of it in service of getting her true prize:

Power, in any form she could find it. A possibility to harness the essence of a dead god? Of course, she played along with Karlin's plan.

She glanced down at her prison uniform, a plain white cloth shirt and leggings. It wasn't fashionable, and it made her skin itch. But it was clean, at least. Who can I impersonate to pull off this trick? I just need the ward stone from one guard, then I can get out of here.

She attempted to shapeshift and was met with a shock from the bracer they'd locked around her wrist. She glared at it. It wasn't just a tracking device. It was a deterrent against any magic or mark usage.

Barry wasn't as much of a fool as she'd figured. The fact that the elf finally turned him against her left her with a begrudged respect for Swiftheart.

She was still lucky as all hell.

She sat down on the bench and examined the bracelet. She could assume any humanoid form she touched, or had samples of. She could never be a perfect copy of the individual, and older samples left more parts of her unchanged.

Even if I get out of here, I'm useless to Aegortin. Karlin screwed me, big time. He split with the gold. He knew better than to trust me. That was nowhere near all the Aurelium. The bulk of it is practically sitting under my feet!

She heard a distant door slam shut. Then, footsteps. She leaned toward the cell frame, keenly paying attention. Then there were startled sounds from the guards outside.

"You told us not to let you in. Not even for you."

"I want five minutes with her. Then I'm done."

She lifted herself off the seat and smoothed the shirt, as best she could. Then she smoothed her hair. Less than a day without her cosmetics, and it was getting all wiry again.

The door to the room opened, and Barry appeared, sunken-eyed and his crown still missing. He looked even paler than usual. He turned to the guard just outside. "Can I get some privacy? Five minutes!"

"You've got three," the guard said. "Your dad is going to have my ass if he catches wind you were here, after the last relay call. So don't push it."

"I'm still your king–"

"Barrimeth, all due respect? This seat should never have gone to you. I mean that in the kindest way." The guard waved to him, and as Barry closed the door, she saw the two men slowly walk down the hall.

The soon-to-be-demoted king let out a soft sigh and walked up to the bars. Then, he stood there, arms folded tightly, and tilted his head forward, well out of grabbing range.

He looked as if he were debating what to say. But his expression became no less weary. "Barry. You wanted to talk? You know this is all fake. This is the work of a jealous woman, out to tear you down–"

She stopped when he waved his hand dismissively. "Your brilliant plan to shore up Fiefdala was a sham the whole time. This has cost me everything, Glados." He let out a soft sigh. "I thought of all people, you could help. I believed you were looking out for Fiefdala. You're a traitor to the whole country."

"I can explain!" she pleaded, grabbing the bars. All she needed was to grab him if he was stupid enough to get close, snap his neck, grab the ward stone off his belt, and then she could walk out of here. She had enough forms to borrow from, and she could sneak out undetected, with natural abilities to climb and fly.

She just needed to shed a few tears, and this kicked puppy would be licking out of her palm. But he just stood there, arms folded and jaw clenched tightly.

After a pause, he let out a sigh. "No. You can't. I trusted you, Glados. And you are as rotten as everyone said you were. I was hoping they were wrong. They weren't."

She heard it in his tone. He was completely out of the game now; her last heartstring to tug was gone. "Tell me why," he finished.

She blinked. "Why? Why would I want to bankrupt Fiefdala? Bring it to its knees? You want the long version or the short version?"

"The one-minute version. Then I'm leaving forever." He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at the chair by a small desk. He took it in hand and slid it adjacent to the cell, out of her reach. Then he propped his chin on it, like a child having a bad day at school.

"Then, the short version," she replied. She could tell any story she wanted. It wasn't changing his mind.

So, for the first time, she went with the honest-to-gods truth. "Aegortin invaded my town when I was six. They took me away from parents who were terrible people. They gave me a roof that didn't leak rainwater, peers who weren't trying to bully or beat me up for my ugly scars, and treated me like a human being. Because despite what you hear about Aegortin, they aren't all bad."

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"I've heard enough from my father–"

"Your father," she sneered. "Your father lies as often as he breathes. How do you think this country got to the state it was in? He lied to avoid having to ask for help. Simple as that."

She gripped the bars tightly. Too bad no folk species was naturally strong enough to bend and break them, even if she could get the bracer off. "They want the same thing as everyone else. Peace and prosperity. They just go about it a little differently. And then they send people like me to learn your language, your culture, your cities and economies. We find the weak spots, and how to break them, then step in to fix what was broken. It was the price demanded of me, in service of Aegortin, for what they did for me."

"And you call me naive. Even Swiftheart was right about you." His knuckles turned white, gripping the frame of the chair. "They exploited you."

"And I persuaded you. I don't bear any shame for it. With Aegortin knocking on the door, spats like Vale wouldn't happen anymore. Your father ran a bloody campaign back then, didn't he?"

Barry grew very quiet. "I know what the older palace guards say about what he did. He knows what he did. He's spent twenty years trying to clean the blood off his hands from those days."

"And it's never coming out," she concluded. "He hides it like the elf hides her origins, who she was–"

"Stop trying to twist this around," he snapped, standing upright. "You know how I know how to use my mark? He taught me. To his everlasting shame."

This was a development she hadn't counted on. "So old Rikkard is as big a hypocrite as everyone else," she murmured, a tightly pressed smile crossing her face. "I found it pretty impressive that it worked on Swiftheart. Given what she is."

"She's someone who cares about Fiefdala. Unlike you." His words were colder than the glaciers of the Valesterne mountains at the edge of the continent's northern borders. "What would you have accomplished that couldn't have been more easily attained with trade, normalization of relations, hells, even a relay call to find some common ground? Aegortin promised you shiny riches for loyalty. Trinkets to children, that bought your heart and loyalty forever."

Hearing him say that to her drew a dark reaction she hadn't felt in a long time. The bars beneath her hands vibrated as she shook with rage. "You don't get to say that. You don't know what I went through!"

"You're right. I don't. Because you've lied about everything you are to everyone. And I can't trust you anymore."

Then, he bit his lip so hard, he drew blood and squinted his eyes shut. "I am not letting my father lock you away forever, or...worse. But your plan? I want to know your plan. You owe me that much, Glados."

She figured she was hosed. No point in lying, now. "Easy. Take the Aurelium, extract the magic out of it, try to jump-start myself to godhood. The slaves of Vale weren't wrong with their prophecy. It was simply a matter of obtaining sufficient material and refining it. Karlin was helping. But of course, he did it for his damn agenda."

"To bankrupt us, too? You used him too–"

"No. I got played by him. I can't believe he out-conned me," she grumbled. "I know why he's doing what he's doing. For the guilt he feels, for the hatred he displaces against his brother, even wrongly. He wants his mother back. He thinks with a revived goddess…he can fix that terrible deed. Noble, maybe, but still delusional. Feo'thari is gone. She is not coming back, no matter what the fool believes."

She knew, of course, after seeing Swiftheart's powers, Karlin's plan--and hers--were now completely out of date. She wielded powers almost identical to all her records of Feo'thari. Something of the goddess survived.

Barry continued to bore his eyes on her in silence, as if considering her words. Meanwhile, new theories formed in her mind.

Karlin is utterly short-sighted! The power isn't all in the Aurelium! It's in her, too! Or her mark, maybe! I need to dissect her to figure out the source. And even if it's a theory that isn't correct...well, that crazy ginger has pissed me off enough that she deserves to rot in the ground for the inconveniences she has caused me. She didn't know why it didn't register with her, yet. Karlin wasn't entirely wrong.

She winced. Karlin did know something! He'd been talking nonstop about a vessel. He wasn't talking about a physical one. He was talking about a person. That sneaky dragon is getting the last laugh on me. He knew there was more to the gods and how they appear and disappear. They could be hiding in the marks! Or some recombined version of them.

Barry grabbed the ward stone off his belt and stared at it, his expression bitter. "I know what my father will do. He will have you hanged. Take the ward stone. You'll have two minutes."

Her jaw dropped. "Why–"

"Because you were nice to me. You didn't berate or look down on me." He laughed bitterly at that. "My siblings, minus Mira, never paid me any attention. My mother just…she tapped out, after four kids. She had no love left to give. And my father was preoccupied, always."

He closed on the bars. She could reach out and snap his neck…

But she didn't. He did, however, hold her free hand in his. She saw his mark at work, the vines wrapping from him to her. She didn't try to stop him.

"Glados Hennaway…you can never inflict intentional harm on Fiefdala again. The only time this mark will be released is when you truly redeem yourself. Do not go against my mark, please." He let go of her wrist, and she felt the nettles latch into her soul in that brief, but intense pain.

"Why…"

"Just go. You've got two minutes. Get out of the city, go whatever direction you want…but your plotting is done. The mark will know," he added before placing the ward stone in her hand. "I'm going to get a world of crap for this if you get caught. So don't."

Then, just as suddenly, he turned to depart through the door. He only stopped to give her one last glare. "And drop your obsession with Swiftheart, too. Or the worst thing to happen to you is she might hire you at her storefront."

He slammed the door behind him, and she looked down with curiosity at the ward stone in one hand…and the feeling of nettles that resided in her heart.

Damn it. This just put me back to square one. I'll have to find a way to remove the mark. Even Swiftheart did it. But she also had a win condition that allowed her to enter a new bargain–

The idea hit her, and she smiled evilly, tossing the ward stone gently in her palm.

"Thanks, babe. It might take me a while, but I'll be back," she purred, approaching the now unguarded door. She just needed to bring Barry back to the negotiation table. She was sure she could find a loophole in there, somewhere.

As it were, she still had a bigger challenge. There still might be a chance to get some shiny new powers, and she doubted having the Aurelium alone would be the solution. She'd need both that and this vessel to err on the side of caution. Swiftheart was going to become aware of what she possessed, soon. If she did, she'd fight tooth and nail to keep the child of Feo'thari safe. Then this task would be impossible.

She let out a sound of disgust as a stupidly easy method became obvious. Dealing with Swiftheart might be as easy as poisoning a sweet roll and putting it in her shop somewhere…

"Leaving so soon?"

Her entire body froze as a familiar voice sounded off behind her. She slowly turned her head to peer at the new arrival, leering at them with bright blue eyes. They jumped down from a high perch by a windowsill, dressed in black garb almost disappeared against the shadow of the stone. They wore a very confident grin as they raised an enchanting wand.

"Hi, Glados. We figured Barry might try something boneheaded. Much as I hate you and wish you'd get your just desserts, you know things that can set this kingdom right."

Glados put on an anxious smile, knowing her escape plan was now toast.

"Hi, Bonnie. Always a displeasure."

Newly Broke Heroine! End of Volume II