Pizza delivery, part XIX

When the barrier finally faded to a silvery haze I could see through, I looked up.

"You're alive." Mistress Orla said.

"It's been three days." I tapped my nearly empty waterskin. I was ready to get out of this trap and eat. It was probably my imagination, but my delivery bag smelled like it had a freshly baked pizza in it.

"Where is the wraith?" Mistress Orla asked as she leaned against her staff. I shrugged and patted the closed delivery bag.

"Smoky won't bother you. Can I come out now?"

"Leave the bag."

Pressing a hand against the bag, I didn't move.

"Go." Smoky's reedy voice filled my mind, and I grabbed my quarterstaff and got to my feet.

Meeting Mistress Orla's gaze, I stepped forward.

The silvery haze was incredibly warm, almost uncomfortably so. But the heat vanished once I was through the haze. Now outside the trap, I turned to look back at my delivery bag.

"Will I be getting that back?"

Mistress Orla lifted her shadowy staff, and a bolt of navy magic struck the silvery haze. A blinding light filled the trap. Lifting a hand to cover my eyes, I couldn't help squinting. When the light at last faded, I had to blink away spots.

When I could see clearly, my gut twisted.

My delivery bag was gone. Only ashes remained.

"Come." Mistress Orla turned and walked away.

I stared at the remains of my bag. What if I'd still been in that trap?

"Follow the wizard." Smoky's voice broke through my thoughts, and I felt the wraith shift beneath my shirt. Turning, I hurried after her. I wasn't sure if it was the dragon scale armor or being in contact with my skin, but I'd successfully smuggled a wraith through that silvery haze.

Whether that was a good idea is up for debate.

Mistress Orla led me out the room and through a hall I didn't recognize. Then we went up a staircase and stopped before a set of doors. She rapped her staff against one of the doors, and almost immediately it opened.

"He's alive!" Brend said, offering me a grin before stepping away from the door. I followed Mistress Orla in, and found Callan's band waiting.

"How are you feeling, laddy?" Callan asked as he strode forward.

"Hungry." Smells filled my nostrils, and I glanced behind Callan toward a table laden with food.

"Go and eat." Callan patted my shoulder before turning to Mistress Orla. "What restitution will you provide?"

"Supplies, including a new bag, and a monetary sum which should cover any grievances." Mistress Orla replied, her tone stiff. Plucking a teal fruit from a bowl, I took a bite.

A bitter tang permeated the fruit, which otherwise tasted like a weird tomato.

"You imprisoned a member of my band for three days." Callan said as I took another bite of the teal tomato.

"And successfully separated him from a wraith." Mistress Orla said, and I felt Smoky shift. Finishing off the teal tomato, I placed a hand over my stomach. Smoky stopped moving.

Stretching the same hand out to snatch a brown roll from a platter, I headed toward the conversation.

"Is there somewhere I could sleep that isn't surrounded by a silvery haze?" I asked, and Callan motioned toward a simple door on the far wall.

"All yours, laddy."

I nodded, and grabbed a plateful of food on my way to the door.

Inside, I found that he hadn't been joking. The room was tiny, with a single bed crammed against a writing desk. Closing the door behind me, I was grateful for the lit candle on the desk. Setting down the plate of food, I held out my right arm.

Smoke poured out my sleeve, consolidating into a dragon shape as it landed on the bed.

"Well, we're out of that trap." I said, taking a bite of roll.

"Yes. This partnership may yet prove interesting."