"Burnside," (Patreon)

I yelled as a disturbing thought crossed my mind. "Is there a newel post at the bottom of this staircase?"

"Prob'ly so," she shouted back. "But I reckon we got us a bigger problem!"

I looked around her to see the dullahan standing at the foot of the stairs with his mace at the ready. How did it get there?? Could that thing pook too, or did it take a shortcut?

"REVERSE!" I yelled and frantically scrambled back up the handrail. Burnside's feet made a strange bongo-like sound on the wood as she scurried up behind me, just narrowly evading the dullahan’s mace.

Back at the top of the stairs, we dove out of the nearest window into an alley. I quickly composed a feather-fall Gramarye but luckily our fall was broken by the plush seat of a gaudy and ridiculous looking machine that happened to be parked right under the window. It looked like one of those newfangled lowfolk antless carriages with the name ‘Conundrum Contraption’ painted prominently on the front.

The dullahan dove out of the same window, but somehow (perhaps because it didn't use the same Gramarye I had) it managed to land upside-down in a rain barrel. Burnside and I took the opportunity to rush back into the street, where we spotted the rest of the group all running towards the palace.

The recording of Johnny Six-Gills blared on. How long WAS this song??

"Shadows loom in every corridor

But we’ve gotta make it out the other door

Just run into my arms and our love will see us through

Just run into my arms and our love will see us through

doo doo doo doo"

All of us managed to join up and collectively make a mad, terrified dash towards the royal palace. Being naturally quick on my feet, I got to the head of the group and led the way to the palace entrance. I fumbled with the door, only to realize it was locked.

“Wait! It’s lock-” I blurted before the whole group crashed into me, squishing me against the doors, which were promptly ripped off their old rusty hinges. Everyone landed in a tangled heap, just inside the palace entrance, with me at the bottom of the pile. In the dim light I noticed a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of Burnside’s foot. The paper bore the heading ‘Inventory Manifest’ but I was too exhausted and irritated to read the whole thing.

The fishy music began to fade (at last!!) as the song drew to a close.

"The ghost retreats, freedom’s just in view

With you beside me, there’s nothing we can’t do… doo doo doo doo!"

“I… Hate… Conundrums…” I wheezed from beneath the pile of mixed lowfolk, Burnside, Folly-La, and Rebecca.

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