“It is acceptable.” Ruby nodded.

She made to stand, and even William found himself making to rise. She shook her head, and gestured for him to remain seated. She looked to Arden.

“You remember what we agreed…brother.” There was another weight in her words to settle any thoughts in the swordsman’s mind of revenge.

“Oh, I value my manhood enough to not cross you.” He smirked.

Ruby clinked her wrists together and vanished. The obsidian bands left white hot gold circles in her wake, and the occupants of the tea room sighed in relief. The maître de nodded to one of the waitresses, who made her way slowly to the table, anticipating their departure, and the need to reset it for the waiting guests in the ante chamber.

“So. Let’s go.”

Arden held out his hand to William. For a moment, the demon thought it conciliatory, before he remembered that the troupe forged teleportation bracelets long ago to take them, and their allies to Castle Brandybuck.

“Where is the forge?” He took it, and before he received his reply, they too departed and left rings glowing like embers.

The teaspoon in the sugar bowl rattled on the fine china brim. The conversation resumed full swing, and the waitress cleared away the plates quickly with the fierce glare of her employer on her back.

Castle Brandybuck appeared, and the duo formed on the peninsula that protruded precariously out from the roaring, seemingly infinite waterfalls that drained away a crystal lake into the ether swirl of the Aria below.

“I forgot how impressive this place was.”

William had been here once, many moons ago, acting as the Captain of the Scara Brae City Guard. The white winged helmet of that station stood on a pedestal in the city’s palace now, unclaimed and its power unspent.

“We only use it as a way stone now, but now the lady of the house has gone there’s something you should know.” Arden pointed to the tallest, central tower of the castle.

William narrowed his gaze. Even with the setting sun illuminating the sky with prangs of fire, he could see there was a light on behind the cracked stained-glass facias. Somebody was living there.

“Squatters?”

Arden chuckled. The smell of aniseed and lavender filled their lungs. Gulls cawed overhead. A brief, moment of peace lightyears from home, then a sudden, overwhelming urge to shit yourself.
“Duffy.”

They re-appeared in the backstreets of the merchant district, slightly uneasy on their feet, and surrounded by cogs and steam pipes. William recognised it as the smithy quarter, and leant against a crate to compose himself.

“Forgive me, but I’m fairly sure you just said Duffy was living in his castle.”

“He is.”

“Dead, slightly annoying Duffy?”

“Only slightly?” Arden walked off, heading out into the busy, wagon crowded thoroughfare.

“Very annoying dead Duffy.” William followed, and they wove through the afternoon hubbub to stand before two towering wooden doors bolted closed and studded with black iron rivets.

“Ruby doesn’t know. It’s why the condition was for you to leave. If he finds out you’re here, there’s nothing I could do or say to save your life.”

“Wait. You’re not the one whose angry?” William shifted the bolt, his smouldering skin barely breaking into a…sweat?

“I’ve done far worse things, William. I dealt with the anger of that night of debauchery years ago. Duffy is less able to move forwards than I.” He nodded with thanks and entered the forge, aglow with his apprentice’s morning duties and heady with the humidity of the three small forges that surrounded a central, hooded fire pit.

“But, more on the fineries of the crumbling legacy of the Ixian Knights later. Get on to the eastern bellows and start pumping. Today, you are my apprentice, and we have much to do before sun set.” Arden rolled up his sleeves, tied back his hair, and set to work on the western bellows.