When the train came to a stop, our hour long tedious journey finally ended. I stood up and walked over to Lucienne, who was reading what looked like some kind of manual. She rose to her feet in front of me and turned toward the door, but I immediately blocked her path.
Lucienne looked at me with surprised eyes. "What's going on?"
Keeping my expression calm, I stepped closer. "If you intend to follow me after we get off, there are a few rules you need to accept."
Her brows drew together slightly, but she did not step back. As the metallic hiss of the train doors echoed around us, the crowd inside the carriage slowly began to thin. People hurriedly gathered their belongings, and the cold air from the station seeped inside.
"Rules?" she asked, her tone cautious rather than shocked.
I smiled. People often misread smiles, and I enjoyed turning that to my advantage. "Yes. Rules that will simply teach you how to behave."
Lucienne crossed her arms over her chest. She closed the book in her hand and slipped it into her bag. The gesture made it clear she was taking this seriously. "I'm listening."
"One," I said quietly. "You do not ask me questions in public. If there is something you are curious about, you wait for the right moment. And when I tell you to be quiet, you stay quiet."
"Two," I continued. "When I say stop, you stop. You do not question why."
Her lips parted. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but she held herself back.
"Three." I met her eyes directly. "If I tell you to run, you run. You do not look back."
The carriage was nearly empty now. The doors were fully open, and the sounds from outside became clearer. Lucienne remained silent for a few seconds, then slowly took a breath.
"And if I don't follow these rules?"
Her question hung in the air. The murmur of the platform blended with the screech of metal wheels and the sharp sound of whistles, forming a strange backdrop.
Without taking my eyes off her, I answered. "Then our paths part here, and they will never cross again."
After my words, a brief but heavy silence settled between us. I had not issued a threat. My voice had not risen, and there was no hardness on my face. But that was precisely why what I said sounded threatening.
Lucienne did not avert her gaze. For a moment, I could feel that she was genuinely stopping to decide. People like her usually tried to buy time by talking. She chose silence instead.
"Are we going to do something dangerous?" she asked.
"Maybe," I said. "But probably not."
The answer did not satisfy her. I had not expected it to.
Lucienne narrowed her eyes slightly. "That... is an evasive answer."
"No," I corrected calmly. "It's an honest one."
The train car was now completely empty. We needed to move before the attendant's impatient stare fell on us. I took a step toward the door, then stopped. Deliberately. I wanted to test her reflexes.
Lucienne hesitated for a moment, then came to stand beside me. She neither moved ahead nor lagged behind. The right distance. I liked that she had done it instinctively. I hoped it would continue that way throughout the day and that we would not have any trouble.
Cold air cut across my face as we stepped out. The station was more crowded than I had expected. People were not just in a hurry, they looked tense. Lucienne tried not to look around, but I noticed the movement of her eyes. She was curious, wondering where I was taking her.
"Why don't you want me to follow you?" she asked in a low voice. This time, she was not breaking the rules. Her question was swallowed by the noise of the crowd.
"Because," I said after a brief pause, "working alone is always safer."
As we neared the station exit, I saw dozens of carriages waiting along the road. Since we were quite far from the city center, we could get there either by carriage or by buying horses. Walking was also possible, but it would be a waste of time. Besides, my destination was not the city center anyway.
Half an hour later
After a short negotiation, I paid a modest sum and got off the carriage in a neglected grove some distance from the city. Lucienne followed me quietly, like a duckling trailing after its mother.
As the carriage moved away, the sound of its wheels quickly faded into the trees. All that remained of its path were mud and crushed leaves. The area was quiet, but that did not mean it was safe. On the contrary, places like this were often chosen precisely because they were out of sight.
Lucienne stopped a few steps behind me. She was trying not to look around, but this time it was clear that she was alert rather than merely curious.
"This place," she said at last, "is pretty far from the city."
"Yes," I replied.
The grove was irregular. There was no path, no sign placed by human hands. But I knew where to step. Not footprints guided me, but their absence. Unbroken branches. Grass that had not been crushed.
We walked in silence for a while. Lucienne began to mimic my steps. She kept the same distance, neither too close nor too far behind. She was not just listening to the rules. She was applying them.
"Why did we come here?" she asked.
I did not stop. "To pick something up."
"What?"
This time, I stopped. Abruptly. Lucienne stopped as well. Her breathing quickened slightly, but she did not move from her spot.
"Wait here," I said, making sure she stayed put before I turned away. After stopping at the entrance of a cave, I turned back to her. "No matter what happens, do not follow me. And I suggest you draw your sword. There may be goblins around here."
Lucienne's hand slid instinctively to her skirt. She drew the short sword strapped to her thigh, giving me an unintended view of her full calves in the process. When she gripped the hilt, I noticed the tension in her fingers. Not fear, but uncertainty. The difference mattered.
"Goblins?" she whispered. She was controlling her voice, but her eyes were fixed on the darkness of the cave.
"Low level," I repeated. "But that doesn't make them harmless. If anything happens, shout. I will probably come to save you."
"Probably?!"
"Don't be a coward. You're the strongest person after me among those sponsored by Baroness Catherinne."
Lucienne shot me a sharp look, but she did not raise her voice. Panicking would gain nothing at this point, and she knew it. She held the sword with both hands and spread her feet slightly. Her stance was not perfect, but it was not random either.
"If I shout, will you really come?" she asked.
"Depends on the situation," I said. "But most likely, yes."
The answer did not reassure her. But it did not make her retreat either. That was enough.
I turned back to the cave entrance.
The mouth of the cave was narrow and low. A heavy smell drifted out, damp, moldy, and reminiscent of old blood. The scent of a place that had not been used for a long time, but had not been completely abandoned either. Before entering, I paused, knelt down, and examined the ground. There were claw marks. Irregular, hastily left. At least two different sizes.
I crouched and looked closer to the ground. There were drag marks. Something had been moved recently. Not small, and not light.
From my belt, I took out a small marker stone I had retrieved from the castle's cache and placed it at an inconspicuous spot near the cave entrance. If someone entered, I would know. Then I stood up and moved inside.
I did not hear Lucienne's footsteps behind me. Good. She was doing as she was told.
After a few steps, the cave widened. The ceiling lowered, and the walls were rough. There were no torch marks, but symbols had been carved into the stone. Not goblin work. Older, more deliberate.
A deep growl echoed from within. Then another. Two of them. Maybe three.
I advanced silently, and the moment I turned the corner, I saw them. Two goblins. Frail, their bones almost visible beneath their skin. One of the goblins lifted its head. Our eyes met. There was a moment of silence. Then it screamed.
In the next instant, I merely moved my hands slightly, and the goblin's head fell to the ground, cleanly severed from its body.
"Hmm. This ability is even more… perfect than I expected."