Before I’ve had a chance to think better of it—and god knows I should—we’re both running around the castle stuffing a pair of backpacks full of supplies for our trip/escape/whatever the hell it is we’re doing exactly. By the time we’re done we’ve loaded up on armor, weapons, clothes, books on enchantments, and enough gold bullion out of Harikin’s personal stash to last us into next year. There isn’t much conversation as we do it, partly because we’re trying not to alert the guards but mostly because my mind is racing to think of all the ways I could be executed for this. These royal people can get very creative when it comes to their capital punishment.

  We go out the same way I came in, by scaling the castle’s rear perimeter wall. We have to be quick because the sun is just about to peek out from behind the horizon and bask us in unwelcome illumination. Before we left, we stopped by Piper’s quarters to grab her bow and a quiver full of arrows and it’s a good thing we did. Two guards turn a corner and spot us as soon as we hit the ground outside the curtain wall.

  When I land, some of the gold coins we took from the castle drop out of my pack and clink off the ground. The guards immediately unsheathe their swords while I raise my hands and say, “Okay…I know this looks bad, but—” Before I can finish, Piper releases an arrow into the foot of one of the guards. He cries out, dropping his sword as the other one charges at her. It must still be too dark for them to recognize her. She backs away but doesn’t have far to go before hitting the wall. Her hands are shaking as she tries to grab another arrow out of her quiver. She’s still fumbling around with it when I snatch the dropped sword up off the ground and relieve the charging guard of his head. Good thing this lad keeps his blade sharp. The headless body crumples in front of Piper as I dive the sword into the other guard’s neck.

  The sound of yelling is replaced by the less pleasant but much quieter sound of gurgling blood. Piper protests behind me, “You didn’t have to kill him! He wasn’t going anywhere!”

  I yank the sword out of the man’s neck. “Someone was gonna hear his wailing. I had to shut him up.”

  “Okay well, let’s try not to do any more of that, okay?”

  As she’s saying it, I hear a “Hey!” shouted in the distance off to my right. Looks like another guard is running toward us with his sword drawn.

  I start moving in his direction with the dead man’s sword but Piper stops me, pushing me sideways and yelling, “Let’s go!”

  So we go. We sprint as fast as we can through Gillan. Down dark alleys and past vagrants who are slinking into the shadows and vendors who are just setting up shop for the day. There’s a shift change of sorts when the sun rises on the capital and no one pays us much mind while they go about their routines. The two of us run and run and when we’re convinced we’ve lost our pursuers, our run becomes a jog. Which eventually becomes a stroll. It’s bright out by the time we finally relax.

  After we’ve both caught our breath, I cough out the words, “This isn’t crazy, right? Like, we haven’t both just lost our minds?”

  She puts on a big smile and announces triumphantly, “I think this might actually be the best idea I’ve ever had!” She’s got her hands balled into fists, swinging her arms in wide arcs like she’s leading a parade of one.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re taking credit for it. That might reduce my culpability.”

  Her head pivots all around while she marches. “We should get a drink to celebrate!”

  I stop in the middle of the street and put my hands on my hips. Then I wait for her to turn around before telling her, “We’re barely two feet from the castle. And it’s like seven in the morning.” We stand in a stalemate for a few seconds until I lower my arms. “Let’s at least get out of the city first. Then I promise I’ll buy you a drink.”

  We resume our pace as she says over her shoulder, “Oh, you’ll buy me a drink? With the money we just took out of my family’s castle?”

  “Yup. What can I say, I’m feeling generous.”

  Our first objective is to get far enough away from the capital that Piper won’t be recognized. So we spend all day walking, making fun of the locals and reminiscing about the same old stories we’ve talked about a hundred times already. Then when we’re sick of walking, we do it all again but drunk this time, at some podunk inn on the outskirts of the province where we each get a separate room for the night.

  The sun is high to the east when we yawningly and hungoverly set out on our second day on the road, and it’s late afternoon by the time we make it all the way to the port city, Kearns. We’re trudging along the town’s central promenade during the evening rush home, still feeling pretty damn good about this decision we’ve made, when Piper starts making conversation with herself. It takes me a second to realize that she’s actually talking to an object. A mask attached by string to a pack that’s slung along the backside of a mule walking in front of us. She asks the thing, “And are you enjoying this trip you’re on?” I’d chalk it up to another tragic case of royal inbreeding-induced madness if not for the fondness I hold of this particular princess.

  To my amazement, the mask’s mouth contorts and a voice emanates from its lifeless visage, “I’d really rather not be facing backwards, if you want my honest opinion. I’d like to face forward for once. To see where I’m headed. Can’t ever know where you’re going if you’re always looking backwards.”

  Piper lets the corners of her mouth droop into a sympathetic frown. “Aww! You know, that is so true.”

  The mask keeps talking, and I keep not believing what I’m seeing, “If I’m being completely truthful, I’d rather not be a part of this venture at all. Philippe treats me terribly. Makes me work all day and then keeps all the money to himself.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  I point at the thing as it bobs up and down in front of us. “That mask is talking, right? I haven’t just been out in the sun too long?”

  Piper gives me a slanted smile before continuing her conversation with the cowl, “Well, where is it that you’d actually like to be?”

  The mask smiles and closes its eye holes while it imagines. “What I’d really like is a nice, pleasant place along a wall to hang on. Somewhere public where people can come and visit and have some nice conversation. That’s where I’d like to be. Not attached to this sling on the back of this mule.”

  Piper gives the mask a big grin. “Well, what if we took you with us? I bet I could find a really nice wall to hang you on! I’m from the castle, you know. Would you like to come with us?”

  My head swings in her direction. “Would it like to what?!”

  The mask responds, “That would be wonderful! This beast I’m attached to sways too much and it gives me nausea. And don’t even get me started on the things I see come out of its backside!”

  Piper doesn’t even hesitate to reach up and start unspooling the twine, all while I protest, “Piper! Piper, what are you doing? PIPER!!” Not sure why I even bother at this point. Just simple reflex, I suppose.

  I glance this way and that to make sure she isn’t seen. I didn’t come all this way just to be arrested on burglary charges, of all things. Once it’s free, the mask sighs while its eye holes press shut in relief. But the relief is short-lived. The ruckus seems to have gotten the attention of a man as wide as he is tall at the head of the mule. When he spots us, he yells, “Hey! Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Piper and I panic. All we can do now is run. Again. We dart sideways through the crowd, pushing our way to the periphery amid the groans and protestations of all in our way.

  This place is more crowded than an orgy at Armageddon. I look back and see that the big galoot is making astonishing progress through the crowd with his mule in tow. When I turn back around, our path is blocked by a street vendor serving some fishy stew that I can only assume is long-since spoiled by the stench of it. He’s holding a ladle of the stuff out over a steaming pot as he offers, “Sample for the lady? Finest in all of Valencia!”

  “Not today!” I knock the pot over as I launch myself up onto the table, dragging Piper up by the hand as I go. And…she’s laughing. She’s actually laughing at this ridiculous situation she’s put us in. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” I tell her, “but keep in mind that if we get caught, you get put back in the castle and I get put in the ground. As in, six feet in the ground. As in dead.”

  “I know what being put in the ground means.” Her smile has straightened out a bit but she’s still having too much fun with this.

  A widening gap has appeared in the crowd behind us as travelers sidestep the slowly stretching puddle of spoiled spillage. It seems I’ve unintentionally made a more efficient path for the galoot to drag his mule through. And get a good look at our faces as he does it. Great. We lower ourselves off the far side of the table and start down the slightly less crowded alleyway behind it.

  Piper’s holding the mask in one hand as she runs, swinging it to and fro in wide arcs with each stride. As she picks up speed, the mask shakily declares, “You will make me sick with all this jostling! Hold me steady, Madam, please!” She quickly obliges, pushing the mask up against her chest and holding it there with one arm as she runs.

  The galoot has abandoned his mule and is now shoving people to the ground to catch up with us. I plead with my accomplice, “Will you just drop the fucking mask, Piper? It’s not worth getting us both caught!”

  “I told him I’d find him a nice wall to hang on!”

  I don’t even know what to say. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

  She points at me with her free arm and yells, “That!”

  “That, what?”

  “That! That’s the thing you do with your arms when you’re frustrated with me! You’re doing it right now!”

  Goddamnit, she’s right. I lower my arms as we turn the corner onto a street sparsely populated enough to run comfortably through. “Whatever, just drop the stupid mask!”

  I hear a muffled bleating from Piper’s chest and we both realize at the same time that she’s got her arm over the thing’s mouth. After she shifts her grip, it cries, “Please don’t! You don’t know what it’s like on the back of that mule. Philippe put me there to punish me. And Madam, would you mind running a bit more smoothly please? I really think I may get sick!”

  I’ve had it. “Stow it! Or I’ll stow you in my backpack!”

  Its eye holes widen into circles. “No, not that!! I won’t be able to breathe in there!”

  We seem to have lost the galoot. Philippe or whatever. We slow to a leisurely pace as Piper lets out a big sigh that sounds more like a laugh. Then she holds the mask out to face us as she tells it, “I think you’re safe now. I’m Piper. And this is Darion. What’s your name?”

  “I am the Mask of Mazibaine and it is a pleasure to make both your acquaintances.”

  Piper puts a finger to her chin. “Hmm, how about we call you ‘Mazi’?”

  The mask’s smile stretches almost to its edges. “It would be wonderful if you called me that. ‘Mazi’ it is!”

  We’re back to blending in. Other than the fact that we’re talking to a magical, sentient mask, there’s nothing outwardly remarkable about the two of us. I say to it, “Alright mask, time to make yourself useful. You know your way around this town?”

  “Oh yes! Philippe and I travel here often. He sets up his table along the central promenade and I entertain the paying travelers. It’s dreadful being carted all over creation with that man but I have learned my way around.”

  “Alright, I didn’t ask for your life story. Where’s a discreet place we can stay for the night? Somewhere people go when they don’t want to be found.”

  It thinks for a second before saying, “The Buxtonian would be a safe bet. Cozy and quiet inn at the edge of town. Three blocks to your right. But why wouldn’t you want to be found?”

  “Long story, don’t worry about it. So Piper…”

  She gives me a quizzical “Hmm?” as we change direction.

  “You’ve managed to turn us into common criminals in less than two days. Well done. Thieving and murdering our way across the countryside. I trust that by the end of the week we’ll be the most wanted fugitives in all of Valencia. And to think, I had a room in the castle last week.”

  “Hey, no one said you had to kill anyone. And that room is long gone. My father made sure of that.” I give her a shrug as she goes on, “You know he doesn’t want me around you.”

  I glance at the cracked stonework at my feet. “Right. Because I’m not a member of your cherished nobility.”

  “Because he thinks you’ll get me killed.”

  I send a rock tumbling across the road with my boot. “Yeah, well…he might be right.”