Page 55 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Mor never won. Not once.

Mor didn’t see Luc’s ruby again until they were on a hunting mission. Mor and Luc travelled across three villages to find a certain rogue fairy, all the while bickering over who was going to kill who first. Every morning, Luc informed Mor of how he planned to kill him that day. And every morning, Mor listened, and by evening he usually came up with a witty response of how he would return the favour. They never walked anywhere in silence—Luc had far too much to say for that.

“You talk too much,” Mor grumbled as they arrived at the cliffside village where the rogue resided. Crisp jade water stretched as far as the eye could see, and Mor had a brief touch of homesickness—hot like an elfshot, something he had not felt for many years.

He slid off his crossbeast and patted the creature’s head around its horns, avoiding getting too close to its dagger-sized teeth.

“And you don’t talk enough, Trisencor. But don’t worry, I’ll chat enough for the both of us,” Luc said. “I have a feeling I’ll like this rogue anyway. Rumour claims he’s a troll fairy, and most trolls can sense treasure. Did you know that?” Luc slid off his beast and marched to the twig house of the rogue. He rapped on the door, then in the same heartbeat, he kicked the door in.

Mor sighed and waited outside while Luc stormed into the house. Mor examined his nails as he listened to the shouts. He flicked off bits of lint and dirt from his shell armour. He looked up at the dark sky, wondering if a storm might blow in later.

The rogue came flying out the front door. Mor snatched him by his collar and dragged him toward the cliff. Luc emerged from the house, brushing the dust and triumph off his hands. He kicked the dirt from his boots and followed as Mor reached the cliff and held the rogue fairy half over it.

The rogue squirmed, trying desperately to cling to the cliff’s edge with his toes. “I have gold!” he promised Mor and Luc. “I can make you the richest fae in the Dark Corner!”

“Can you?” Mor kept his face dull and straight with his sarcasm, making the rogue believe for a second that he was serious.

The rogue nodded but seemed to realize Mor was playing him for a fool when Mor tilted his head and smiled after all.

“Give up the weapons you stole from the Shadow Army troves,” Luc demanded in a bored voice. “And perhaps we’ll forget what you did for a little while.”

When the rogue refused to speak, Luc nudged Mor’s side as though he wished to take over. Mor yanked the rogue back to land and handed him off to the fox. From there, Mor folded his arms and waited.

“I wish to make a bargain. One that will surely benefit you the most!” the rogue fairy blurted, trying Luc instead.

“Sky deities,” Luc cursed in amusement. “You’re just full of deals, aren’t you? Shall I take out my coin purse and pay you for your kindness?”

“Iamkind! You should have mercy on me for how kind I am!” the rogue exclaimed.

Mor snorted a laugh.

“You stole weapons from the Shadow Army.Ourarmy,” Luc corrected.

“And you use them to rule over your village,” Mor added—the part he found the most important of all.

“Not all of them,” the rogue protested. “Some of the weapons I sold!” He leaned toward Luc as if meaning to whisper. “Let’s make a bargain. I can fill your pockets with real gold, no rocks—enough to rule any village in the Corners of Ever as a noble. And I’ll give you a fairy trick, too! One that will destroy your greatest enemy in his sleep!”

Mor laughed louder this time. “You should take the bargain, Luc. Perhaps you’ll finally go through with it and kill me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Luc muttered back with a smirk.

The rogue kept talking. “In exchange, you must forget about the weapons. You must forget about me, and I can run off and live happily with my childling son. All it would require is for me to be able to steal your memories of this conversation so I cannot be tracked.”

Luc’s smile faded. “Oh dear.” He angled his head, his eyes turning sharp. “And what shall I tell my commanders when you rob us again and they realize I didn’t do my job?” he asked.

The rogue fairy looked off as he thought about that. His eyes widened as though he’d come up with another cursed idea. “I can draw you a map to my personal storehouses of gold!” he offered. Then he smiled, wide and wicked. “I would trade everything I have for that tiny little ruby you have hiding in your pocket.”

Luc stared; not blinking, not moving a muscle. He said nothing for a moment as he slowly reached into his pocket, drawing out his ruby, and held it before the rogue fairy’s nose. It sparkled even in the dim light. “This ruby?” he articulated slowly.

The rogue fairy’s eyes turned wild as he gazed at it. “Yes,” he breathed.

Luc hurled the fairy off the cliff—one swift movement that left the rogue no chance of catching himself.

Mor folded his arms and waited to hear the splash at the bottom. It was a faint sound when it finally came; the cliff was quite high.

“He will live, you know. That fall won’t kill the fool,” Mor pointed out.

Luc shrugged and began heading back to the village. “I hope he does. I hope he crawls out of the sea and warns every fairy he meets about me.”

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