Luckdire was already waiting for me in the barroom of the Long Horn when I got downstairs the next day. I was in a foul mood, despite the ‘success’ of the plot.

  “Ah, Bob! When are we off?” he said, bustling over to me as I stepped through the door.

  “It’s too early for cheerful. Beville, any messages?”

  “Not this morning, sir. All quiet,” the barlord replied, glancing up briefly from the glass he was polishing before returning his focus to the already gleaming glass.

  “You ready to go now?”

  “Of course! I have all my effects. I look forward to a little peace and quiet. Time to work on a new crossbow. What’s the hunting like in your neck of the woods?” Luckdire asked, immune to my ill humour.

  “How do you feel about uni-bunnies? Oh, but you can’t shoot the one with the hat.”

  “A uni-bunny with a hat?”

  “He’s in a cyborg suit as well. Sings and dances at the pub. Probably wouldn’t end up a target anyway. He’s an avatar of the god of music, so you’re probably not much of a threat to him. In fact, don’t shoot any of the ones in robot suits.” He gulped audibly at my words.

  “How… unusual. Will we be travelling by portal?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not coming with you. Need to make a delivery on the way and do some other stuff. Am I ok to use a portal in here, Beville?”

  “As long as it doesn’t make a mess or bring unwanted attention to my establishment, that’s fine, sir,” he called from the other end of the bar where he was serving a customer.

  I rolled the portal stones in my pocket and made one appear next to me and the surprised Luckdire, the other end opening out into the cave lined with similar portals in my dungeon.

  “I didn’t tag this as your magic signature! It’s not made by you?” Luckdire asked as he inspected the tear in reality.

  “No. By a minion. I’ve got a badge, and someone did the paperwork. It’ll be fine. KAT!” I stuck my head through and yelled the last word. Several minions I didn’t recognise, they were angular, reptilian-looking humanoids, glanced up and flinched. A startled adventurer party shot me a glare from near another portal exit.

  “What?” said the pixie, appearing on the other side of the portal. “You’re coming home now? Lots of stuff to update you on. The Fighting Dolphins have cleared three floors; they look like a really good team, definitely top five per cent of the ones who’ve run it so far. Gledna ‘accidentally’ enhanced everyone's food a couple of days ago, so I’ve had to take on some minions who don’t have a sense of smell to deal with the mess. It’s been– who’s that?” Luckdire had moved to peer down at her from behind my shoulder.

  “A pixie? How delightful! Madam, why are you wearing a fluffy costume?” Luckdire asked innocently.

  A black and white coloured blur flew through the door and launched a rising uppercut into his delicate parts before retreating back to the other side.

  “The sexy panda onesie suits you,” I managed to get out between giggles. Her longsword-turned-featherduster was now a stick of leafy bamboo.

  “Piss off, Bob.”

  “This is Professor Luckdire. He’s going to rent the room on the residential floor. Maybe don’t batter his nuggets again?”

  “It was my mistake!” the man gasped. “Pixies always have a fiery temper! I should have been… more discreet!” He climbed slowly to his feet and nodded politely to Kat. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He had to be lying. Getting punched in the dick was never a good introduction.

  “I’m coming back the long way. Give this to Jenny.” I tossed the orb linked to the one I was going to give to her dad across the portal threshold. “Oh, tell Esme I got that thing she wanted as well, and I approve.”

  Kat raised an eyebrow and set the orb that was half her size to one side as if it weighed nothing at all. She crossed her arms, which enhanced the effects of her low-cut panda-themed crop top, and smiled sweetly at me.

  “Oh? And what was that?”

  “None of your business! Luckdire, through you go!” I patted him on the back and sent him stumbling through to the other side. “Just keep a lid on things for a couple more weeks, Kat. I do not want to get back and find the place overrun with monsters again!”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “Wait, overrun with monsters? Again?” Luckdire muttered, stepping slowly back towards the portal. I moved the end of it to the portal floor before he could step through. Kat would get a good weekly rent from the bastard. If he wanted to make illegal weapons, I was happy to give him a home, but he’d pay for the privilege. Probably should have mentioned that to Kat. Well, never mind. That was a problem for future Bob.

  “A pixie, sir?” Beville had reappeared just across the bar from me, his polishing having increased to a furious pace.

  “You racist?” I snapped.

  “Specieist. Pixies are not a race, they’re a species. I trust your, ahem, colleague will not be visiting us? I’m afraid we have a human-only policy that is strictly enforced.”

  “You do know what I am, right?” I asked in surprise.

  “You appear to be a normal human male, perhaps forty years old, with slightly unfortunate features, but appearing to be in rude health.”

  “I was twenty-five back on Earth!”

  “Had you lived a hard life? You do drink rather a lot, Sir Bob. That is not kind to the skin in the long run.”

  “Beville…”

  “Sir?”

  “Piss off.” I resolved to spend some time staring at a mirror and improving my human form. “What’s the damage for the room and board?”

  I dealt with the greed-goblin in my mind that was freaking out as I paid for my stay by thinking happy thoughts about the outfit I had bought for Esme. Having paid for the costume offended the thing even more, but Lust-Monkey stepped in and affectionately restrained the imp.

  The walk through the city was a smoky, foggy stroll through a slum. I can’t really describe it better than that. Urchins steered clear of me, which was pleasant. Not having seven-year-olds discuss explicit details of their afflictions was a nice change from the usual experience of most pedestrians in Ankmapak.

  I may not be the smartest dragon alive, but having witnessed the anti-air defences of the arena, I had no wish to take flight within the borders of the city. In fact, I walked for half a day before moving away from the road and transforming into my proper body.

  It felt good to fly again. Nardshire wasn’t wrong, despite her overly sexualised metaphors, about the joy of flying under your own power. I spiralled up and flew northeast towards Baginton. Landing a half-hour stroll outside of town, I found the air was clean and fresh this time.

  Jenny’s dad was doing well. Fully recovered from his malady, he looked healthy again, and some of the houses on his street had been reoccupied, the derelict gardens once again neat and tidy. The guy hadn’t put any weight on at all, though. He was every bit as emaciated as though he still had terminal diarrhoea. Some lingering gift from the Worm in his intestines, perhaps.

  I dropped off the orb and asked him to get Jenny to mention Luckdire’s plans for experimental weaponry to Kat, so she could adjust the rent accordingly. It was strange, being treated as a conquering hero by a man who had caused me to vomit at length the last time I was anywhere near him.

  After shaking his hand and saying farewell, I carefully disinfected myself with small splashes of Golden Jack. I had no desire to pick up any little friends that Worm might have left behind in the old man, but that stuff was expensive.

  Heading north, I pondered my predicament. I wanted to deal with the slavers and highwaymen. But attacking a man in decent clothes strolling all alone would probably only work on baddies with very short life expectations. It pained me deeply, but I needed to look humble, and worst of all, weak.

  I switched out my decent tunics and trews for an old pair that had been through the wars. Then I shifted a finger into a claw and messed them up some more. Ragged and tattered, but clearly once fine clothing, would give me the air of a desperate man. A man down on his luck, but who might be holding some gold, saving what he had left for a new start.

  After transferring the contents, a cool two million, from the bags of holding I’d received in the city into my possum pouch, I hung the now-empty bags from my belt and continued to stroll along the road, doing my best to look like I was living on the edge.

  The occasional wagon driver sneered at me as his vehicle rumbled past, but otherwise the roads were dead. I hailed a wagon laden with sacks of grain as it passed me, but the driver just turned her nose up at me and continued on towards the city.

  I understood being wary of a stranger on the road, especially if you look like you’re desperate enough to rob people, but this was odd. Sarcastic, mean-spirited, and sexual deviancy were the norm in this world, from what I had gathered, not cold indifference and frightened glances. Had something changed in the sticks while I was in what passed for a metropolis on this world?

  At the end of the day, as the light faded from the sky, I made a small camp. A simple fire and some furs I ostentatiously pulled from the bag of holding, all while trying not to scan around me to see if some sneaky bastard was watching from the shadows. Nothing. As far as wiggly worms went, I was shit bait.

  Two more nights passed in the same way. Unsatisfying meals, eaten in the boring human fashion, were interspersed with long hours of walking as I trudged along the road.

  On the third day, just as I was finally preparing to say fuck it and switch to hunting for fires in the night in my real body, it changed. Lunchtime was fast approaching, and I was debating whether or not to switch back to dragon-form and have a good nom on some of the wildlife I had stashed away, when an arrow struck the ground between my feet.

  Up ahead, a large rock stood to the left of the road, probably left over from being dug out when the road was built, and on the right, a copse of trees blocked the way.

  “Oh no! Don’t hurt me! I’m just a humble wanderer heading north with all my wealth in this pouch!” I cried out, dropping to my knees. “Please, noble highwaymen, I’m just like you! Hard on my luck and looking for a fresh start in life!”

  Nothing moved for a minute; my eyes tracked the grass and the trees swaying in the breeze. Insects flitted about, and a few birds circled overhead, but I didn’t count them.

  There was another thrumming noise and an arrow sprouted from my left shoulder.

  “Agh! I’m wounded!” I cried out, doing my best to sound in pain rather than irritated. It was an old tunic, and I’d already deliberately ruined it.

  “Hold your fire, Fronge! Bob, what the fuck are you doing here? And you’re a shit actor!”