I ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED A DUNGEON

The tavern hit them with noise the moment the door swung shut, mugs clinking against wooden tables, boots scraping the floorboards, a dozen conversations layered on top of each other. Firelight from the hearth along the back wall threw long shadows across rows of scarred tables, and every one of them was occupied. Adventurers in patched leather armor leaned over mugs of ale, trading stories about their last dungeon run, their voices rising and falling with old arguments they’d clearly had a dozen times before. A group near the window compared notches cut into their sword hilts. Past the bar, a server wove between tables balancing four plates up one arm and a pitcher in the other hand, calling orders over her shoulder to a cook who kept his eyes on the grill. Roasted meat and spilled ale thickened the air, mixed with woodsmoke and the iron smell of weapons leaning against chair legs. A card game had turned loud near the back, coins scraping across the table, and a burst of laughter followed when someone lost badly.

Felix’s eyes moved across the room and found Mira at a table near the far wall, sitting across from Gerrett with Gron beside him. He glanced back at Dune, who had stopped just inside the doorway. Her head turned slowly from the card game to the bar to the fire, studying each one in turn.

As they crossed toward the table, Mira spotted them and raised a hand, waving it back and forth. Felix kept walking as though he hadn’t seen her, letting her wave a second time before he finally looked over, and by then they were close enough that pretending any longer would have looked stranger than admitting it.

"I don’t see Silas and Derren," Felix said, pulling out the one empty chair and dropping into it.

Mira’s mouth twisted. "Yeah, about that." She slid four silver coins across the table and glanced sideways at Gerrett.

"We disbanded the party." Gerrett turned his mug slowly by the handle. "Silas and Derren are leaving the city."

Felix picked up the coins, weighed them in his palm, and dropped them into his pocket. "I thought it was because of me."

"Nah, it’s not that." Gerrett shook his head. "Work’s drying up around here. Monster populations have thinned out, half the dungeons nearby are running dry. Less contracts, less coins." He shrugged, and his eyes moved to Dune and stayed there a moment too long.

"Yeah, you’re right about that." Felix caught the look and answered it before Gerrett could ask. "This is Dune. Mira told you about her, right?"

Mira’s head snapped up. "I forgot to mention her, sorry. Did you talk to Anthony?"

"Not in person. I got a letter from him." Felix glanced at Dune before he went on. "He wrote that she’s the daughter of some old relatives of Grandfather’s. Didn’t say who. Just that her mind never developed past a certain point, that her family died in a cave-in, and that she was trapped down there for days before anyone found her. Somewhere in that time she convinced herself she’s a dungeon. She’s staying with me until Anthony figures out what to do for her."

Mira’s shoulders dropped and her mouth softened. "I’m sorry, Dune." She pulled a chair out from the table and set it beside her own. "Come sit with us."

Dune looked at Felix first, waited a for moment, then crossed the table and lowered herself into the offered seat.

"I’m Mira." She tapped her own chest. "This is Gerrett, and that’s Gron. We’re adventurers, same as Felix."

"I’m Dune. Anthony sent me to Felix."

"Yeah, he just told us. Where’d you live before you came here?"

"I don’t know. I’m just doing what I was told by Anthony."

Mira’s smile faded at the edges. She glanced at Felix, one eyebrow raised.

Felix rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s been like that since you left. And she’s been eating nonstop all day, I don’t—"

A hand landed on his shoulder, heavy enough to rock him forward in his seat, and he recognized the grip before he even turned his head.

"Jackson."

Jackson stood behind him, tall enough that the low ceiling of the tavern felt lower, Numen heat coming off him in quiet waves that made the air around him feel faintly different. Mira’s mouth went dry sitting three feet away from him.

"Ephraim, my friend." Jackson’s grip tightened on his shoulder. "How are you?"

Felix’s frown deepened. He glanced at Mira and the others, and their eyes were fixed on Jackson, none of them able to look away from the Numen leaking off him. Felix bit down on his lip and stood up.

"Give us a moment," he said. "Watch Dune. Make sure she doesn’t touch the food."

He turned and walked toward the counter. Jackson gave Dune a brief smile, and the Numen leaking from his skin cut off as he followed Felix across the room.

Felix reached the counter and took the farthest seat, tapping the wood twice. "Serve us the Black Malt, Galagar."

Galagar set down the mug he’d been cleaning and looked at Felix as Jackson settled onto the next stool. He poured the drink and slid it across the counter. "You bring the seventy silvers?"

"I don’t need the reminder every time." Felix grabbed the mug and drank, the burn hitting the back of his throat. He drank until the mug was half empty, then turned to Jackson. "Now tell me what you need."

"Not even a proper greeting?" Jackson took a sip from his own cup. "Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me for being alive instead of Robert and Sara."

"If you’re saying you left my father and mother to die, then yes."

"I already explained this. I’ll say it again. I didn’t run from Robert and the others. They sent me out. The snake monster was stronger than we predicted."

"Yeah, yeah. Now tell me what you need."

Jackson reached into his bag and pulled out a small box, placing it on the counter in front of Felix. "I brought something."

Felix looked it over. The wood alone told him it cost more than most people in this tavern would see in a year. "What’s this?"

"Open it. Sara told me to give it to you when you become an adult."

"My mother, huh." Felix picked up the box and channeled his Numen through it, checking for anything hidden inside. Nothing answered back. He lifted the lid slowly, and a set of matte black cards sat inside. His hand reached toward them, hovered an inch above the deck, then pulled back. "Why did she want me to have this?"

"No idea. She just wanted you to have it once you turned adult. That’s all I know." Jackson pulled another card from his pocket and set it on the counter, turning it face up.

A joker.

"Don’t worry, I already took this one out of the deck."

Felix went still. His Numen surged inside his chest, pulling toward the card on the counter the way iron pulls toward a lodestone. He closed the box and turned his eyes away from the joker.

"Keep it yourself," he said. "I don’t need that."