Douxie Casperan has been living the same unfulfilling life of monsters and minimum wage for nine centuries. His eternal routine is shattered when Claire Nunez accidentally discovers his magical secret life. Douxie comes to accept the truth; only tog...
"What am I to do then? Hmm?" The ancient wizard switched to a harsh, muted tone, as if to keep his apprentice from hearing. "Shall I let the art of sorcery perish? Neglect to share our sacred knowledge? Leave this boy to rot in the gutter?"
Hisirdoux's breath caught in his throat. He strained to hear the next words from the corridor.
The woman sighed in defeat. "He does deserve a chance at a better life. That much is certain. I simply fear that your teaching will only make things worse for him."
"Time will tell."
Hisirdoux scrambled back to his work as the door opened, ushering in the two sorcerers who would change his life forever. His hands shook as he grasped the crude metal tools.
Time will tell.
That means I've got a chance.
* * *
For two days following his chance encounter with Claire, Douxie did his best to get her out of his worried head. The shadow scathrune was now locked away in the wizard library's miniature vault, but Angor Rot didn't need his staff to cause havoc.
Except, for whatever reason, he hadn't.
Despite Douxie's extended night patrols and Archie's daytime recon, the trollish assassin refused to show his scarred face. His silence was almost more terrifying than an outright attack. Angor was like a spider on the wall, vanishing into shadow after a single sighting. No one could predict when he would strike, creating a torturous waiting game. Despite their enemy's silence, Douxie and Archie managed to settle into a routine of perpetual alertness.
Until Monday afternoon.
Douxie was behind the counter of the used book shop, texting his bandmates about his conspicuously frequent absences from weekend practice. It was difficult to keep coming up with new lies to placate his musical brethren. He didn't bother to look up from his phone when he heard a patron enter the shop. Most customers browsed extensively, never making a purchase. The customer in question was a different story.
Claire gasped in joy, covering her mouth with both her delicate hands. "You're here!"
Douxie dropped his phone in alarm, knocking over a pencil cup in his frantic effort to catch it, as well as several other dusty trinkets lining the desk.
Fuzzbuckets! Why am I such a klutz?! And why is she here? Bloody balrogs, where did I put those breath mints?!
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Claire's smile was still spread wide between rosy cheeks. "I came here yesterday, but you weren't here. But it's you! You're the magic guy! Dirk, right?"
"Douxie." The frantic wizard gave Claire a nervous smile as he rapidly reassembled his workstation. After several tense seconds of scrambling for scattered office supplies, he threw up his arms in frustration, levitating the objects back into their proper places on the countertop.
