The taverns found in the Glass Kingdom and Rose Kingdom usually had floating candles. Here in Apple Kingdom, where witches and wizards ruled supreme, they liked to flaunt their supposed superiority in regards to the other races of Fantasia. They may be magically superior but…their fashion sense seems lacking to me. Fern mused as her gaze was drawn to the wide-brimmed, pointed hats that many of the witches were wearing and that were decorated with enchanted birds and butterflies with slowly flapping wings. A few of the witches had dresses on that changed color every few minutes. This caused Fern to roll her eyes at their excessive vanity.

Fern stalked over to the bar and took a seat on a high stool. The bartender strolled over to take her order. “What will you be drinking, lady?”

“Pint of ale,” Fern said shortly as she took in the bartender’s unkempt appearance. She wondered why barkeeps always had such an unfriendly appearance. Maybe it was a trend. Or maybe it helped to keep riffraff in line. The man was middle-aged, but in good shape. He had long, scraggily, gray hair, dark, suspicious eyes, and a messy beard. The bartender was wearing a simple black robe, apron, and a wide-brimmed, pointed hat. The point of his hat was wrinkled, making his hat look sad to be on the man’s head.

“Alright, lady,” the bartender said gruffly before filling a tankard with ale and setting it down on the counter in front of her.

Fern picked up the tankard and started to chug the alcoholic drink back. It tingled pleasantly as it traveled down her throat and warmed her stomach. “Ah!” Fern wiped her mouth with the back of her hand (in a very unladylike manner). She tossed a silver coin onto the counter. “I’d like another.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes at the Silver Rose coin. “That’s too much, lady.” A Silver Rose coin was enough money to buy two meals at any decent tavern. In Fantasia, Gold Apples were gold coins, which had the image of King Reginald of Apple Kingdom engraved on one side, and an apple tree engraved on the other. Silver Roses were silver coins that had the image of King Leopold of Rose Kingdom engraved on one side, and a rose engraved on the other. Copper Skulls were copper coins that had the image of King Gothel of Bones Kingdom engraved on one side, and a skull engraved on the other. Two hundred Silver Roses were equal in value to one Gold Apple while two thousand Copper Skulls had the value of one Gold Apple.

Fern smiled. “I’d also like some information.”

The bartender let out a raspy chuckle. Fern could tell he was a smoker. “You’ll need to buy more than just two pints of ale for that, lady.” Fern tossed another Silver Rose down onto the counter. The bartender picked up the coin, bit into it and nodded. “What do you want to know?” He smiled at her, revealing a couple of gold teeth.

“When is King Reginald planning to march his army of Wizard Knights to Cross Kingdom?” Fern asked softly.

A dark frown formed on the bartender’s face. “I have no idea if King Reginald will be marching his army to Cross Kingdom any time soon.” He narrowed his dark eyes at Fern. “Why do you want to know? You a spy for Cross Kingdom, lady?”

“I want to join Reginald’s Army, old man,” Fern explained.

The bartender raised a bushy eyebrow at Fern and looked her over with a critical eye. “You a swordswoman?”

“Archer. Mostly,” Fern said casually. “Although, I’m pretty good with a hatchet.”

“Only the most powerful witches and wizards are able to join Reginald’s Army,” the bartender started to explain while giving Fern a condescending look. “You’d better give it up. I can’t even sense any magic from you, lady. And if I didn’t know better…I’d say you were a dullard.” A slimy smile spread across the barkeep’s face. “But a dullard woman wouldn’t be stupid enough to walk into a tavern alone in Apple Kingdom. Especially, when there are slave merchants sitting at that table right over there.” The barkeep let out a raspy chuckle as he nodded in the direction of the table.

Fern followed the man’s line of sight and spotted three men seated at a table. An enchanted bottle of wine was floating in midair above their table and making sure to keep their glasses filled. It was a bit unusual for patrons to order wine at a tavern as dodgy as this one unless they were nobles, and claimed to have a sophisticated palate.

One of the men was dressed in flashy, expensive-looking gold armor, but since there was no sword strapped to his side Fern deduced he must be a wizard. Fern supposed most women would find the lean man handsome with his chin-length, curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But, he was little effeminate for Fern’s taste. She liked rugged, manly men with bulging muscles, hairy chests, and calloused hands. Any scars gained through fierce battles would be an added bonus.

The two men that were seated with him were obviously his minions. They were wearing silver armor. All three of them were wearing black, hooded cloaks, but their hoods had been lowered to reveal their faces. On the backs of their cloaks was the emblem of Apple Kingdom. The apple tree had been embroidered on their cloaks in red thread. Fern supposed this must mean they were somehow affiliated with Reginald’s army. The lackeys didn’t have swords strapped to their sides either which meant they must also be magic-users.

“Dullard?” Fern asked absentmindedly. She was unfamiliar with the term.

“Non-magic folk,” the bartender drawled. “People who can’t perform magic.”

“Ah.” Fern nodded. “I’d heard about the discrimination in this Kingdom against ordinary humans, but it’s really no joke. Do you really look down on those born without magic that much?”

“Dullards are ‘lesser beings’,” the bartender began. “They’re meant to be our beasts of burden…like cattle.” Another creepy smile was spreading across the bartender’s face.

Fern lowered her hood to reveal her face to the bartender. He gulped at the fearsome sight of it. Fern knew she was the opposite of ‘pretty’ with the three claw mark scars slashing down over her left eye. She could still see out of her left eye, but it had changed color from green to blue due to the injury. “Did you just call me a cow?” Her bi-colored eyes flashed in anger. “You’re going to regret that, old man,” Fern growled before grabbing the front of the bartender’s shirt, pulling him forward, and headbutting him.

The bartender let out a yowl of pain as his nose was broken. As soon as Fern let the bartender go he stumbled backwards with blood running down his face. “That bitch broke my nose!” The bartender wagged his bony finger at her angrily. “Capture her, Goldilocks! She must be a dullard!”

A wicked grin curled Goldilocks’s lips. “What would the good people of this city do without me? I suppose I can help you out and capture this…wench. It will take but a moment.” Goldilocks and his two minions stood up from their seats at the table in unison.

Goldilocks started to approach the bar and held his arms out in front of him. From the long, belled sleeves of his shirt two golden chains dropped to the floor with a clanking sound. At the end of the chains was a sharp, weighted, dagger with no hilt. The chains lifted up off the floor as Goldilocks channeled his magic to control them, and their sharp ends pointed in Fern’s direction.

The weighted chains reminded Fern of snakes with their serpentine movements. She spun around on the stool and hopped off. “You’re right, guys. I am a dullard. But magic won’t do you any good against me…” Fern was saying as she reached into her waist-length, hooded cloak and pulled out a certain round item. “Because I have this. The Inquisitors like to call it an anti-magic bomb.”

The blood started to drain out of the bartender’s face. “Merlin’s Balls! She’s an Inquisitor! She might be able to cast miracles!”

Fern let out an amused cackle. “You guys are such idiots! I’d never join those fanatical assholes. I stole this from them though. Something like this sure comes in handy when dealing with prejudiced wizards and witches like you guys.” She lit the fuse using one of the floating candles that was hovering a few inches above the bar counter and threw the bomb. “Eat this!”

Goldilocks used his magic to control his chains to attack Fern and they flew through the air towards her. Goldilocks’s two minions had their wands out and were casting offensive spells in Fern’s direction. The spells were shooting through the air towards Fern when her bomb exploded and filled the air with a shimmery, white dust. The spells were suddenly dissipated and fizzled out. Goldilocks’s chains fell to the floor with a thud and remained unmoving.

The witches and wizards in the tavern began to cough and sneeze as the dust filled their lungs. “What is this stuff?” “I can’t breathe.” “I can’t see…” “My magic…it’s not working!” “Mine neither!” The panicked screams of witches and wizards realizing they didn’t have use of their magic any longer filled the tavern after that.

“The Inquisitors like to call it anti-magic dust,” Fern said conversationally. “Neat, huh? I like it since it levels out the playing field.”

Goldilocks’s pale cheeks turned bright red out of anger and humiliation. “Get her, men! She’s just one girl and she’s all on her own!”

“Right, Boss!” the two minions shouted back. The two wizards attacked Fern with punches and kicks. Fern dodged their physical attacks gracefully, whipped out her crossbow, and shot a bolt into the thigh of one of the slave traders. The man cried out in pain and crumpled to the floor. That’s one down. Two to go.

Fern swiftly reloaded her crossbow, raised it, and aimed at the other slave trader. When she fired it, the man managed to dodge the bolt, however, and then moved in close so that Fern couldn’t find another opportunity to reload her crossbow.

“Dammit. Have it your way then.” Fern whipped out a hatchet and started to attack the wizard with it. He was forced to duck and dodge her wild swings.

Goldilocks began to tremble with rage as he watched his comrade being pushed back by a woman and a dullard at that. “Who the hell is this crazy bitch?”

“They call me The Huntress,” Fern revealed smugly. “Make sure not to forget the ‘the’, boys.”

The wizard’s eyes went wide. “Hey, Boss, I’ve heard of her. The Huntress hunts and kills monsters and dangerous magical beasts for money.”

“Oh, I’ll hunt the occasional human, too, if the price is right,” Fern put in, rubbing her thumb and index finger together.

“Capture her already, Salem!” Goldilocks snarled in a frustrated manner.

Salem lunged at Fern at the same time she threw her hatchet. The hatchet imbedded itself in Salem’s breastplate and knocked him back to the floor. He groaned from his place on the floor and didn’t try to get up.

Fern took this opportunity to reload her crossbow. “I take it you’re their leader. Want to surrender, Curly?” She raised her crossbow and pointed it at Goldilocks.

A vein at Goldilocks’s temple throbbed in irritation. “It’s Goldilocks. Not Curly.”

Fern snorted. “That’s not much better.”

“Silence, you infuriating woman! And no, I will not surrender. I would never surrender to a mere dullard female!” Goldilocks snapped.

Fern shrugged. “So much for trying to be nice.” She fired her crossbow.

Goldilocks summoned his magic and willed his chains to attack Fern, but they didn’t respond to his internal command and the bolt ended up hitting Goldilocks’s shoulder as a result. “Ow! You bitch! You actually shot me!” Goldilocks complained in a high-pitched voice, and gripped his shoulder. “This fucking hurts! Shit!”

“I told you to surrender,” Fern chided, rolling her eyes at Goldilocks’s dramatics. “You chose to get your ass kicked.” The Huntress reloaded her crossbow, raised it, and pointed it at Goldilocks. “Now, what’s the magic word?” She smiled coldly at the slave trader.

Goldilocks swallowed a lump of fear and his brow furrowed in confusion. “You…want me to chant a spell?”

“No, you idiot!” Fern snapped. “I’m referring to the word ‘please’.”

“Please,” Goldilocks said through gritted teeth.

“Please, what?”

“Please, spare my life…?”

“Please, spare my miserable, worthless, pathetic life, Oh Beautiful Huntress,” Fern said in a singsong voice.

Goldilocks’s body had started to tremble and he clenched his fists at his sides. “Please, spare my miserable, worthless, pathetic life, Oh Beautiful Huntress.”

Fern smirked. “Not bad. You’re pretty good at groveling, Curly. But how about you get on your knees while you beg for your life.”

Goldilocks debated just trying to tackle Fern to the floor, but then let out a shaky breath. He slowly got down on his knees and glared up at Fern. “Please, spare me.”

“Hm. Let me think about that,” Fern said, tapping her chin in a thoughtful gesture. “Nope.” She raised her crossbow and fired. The bolt hit his breastplate and he went down.

Stupid bitch. Goldilocks thought as he remained on the floor and concentrated on staying perfectly still even though his body wanted to shake with the outrage he was feeling. My armor protected me from her bolt. Salem and Tarot are alive too.

Fern put her crossbow away and went to fetch her hatchet from Tarot’s body. Tarot was also playing dead and stopped breathing as Fern removed the hatchet from the center of his breastplate. Fern let out a heavy sigh. “What a bunch of idiots. We’re on the same side…well, kind of. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that rubbish. I hope King Reginald will be easier to deal with than these morons. If not…I suppose I could just kill him.” Fern left the tavern without looking back upon all the chaos she’d created inside of the tavern which was still filled with coughing and panicking witches and wizards, and started to head to Apple Castle.

***

“This is where I leave you, my dear,” Reginald drawled coldly as he came to a stop in front of the door to Isidora’s private bedchamber.

Isidora looked startled for a moment before she quickly schooled her expression into one of calm. Even though they were married, Reginald and Isidora had their own bedchambers. When Reginald was in a good mood, however, he’d usually retire to Isidora’s room with her for a night of passionate lovemaking. Apparently, tonight was not one such night, and Isidora immediately grew concerned by her husband’s reticence. “Oh, I see. Is there anything I can do? I could massage your aching shoulders, perhaps?”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I’m just tired. And you know how I like to be alone at times, Isidora,” Reginald reminded sternly.

Isidora frowned and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Yes, but I don’t understand. Why do you need to be alone? You should never be alone when you have me to stay by your side and comfort you. I love you, Reginald.” Isidora reached out her hand and tried to place it on Reginald’s arm, but he backed away from her.