I ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED A DUNGEON

Felix laid on the floor staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

What should I do with her?

Not a question he had an answer to. Kicking her out wasn’t really an option, not because he felt particularly sorry for her, but because Dune had already demonstrated in the span of a single morning that she could not be left unsupervised near other people. By nightfall half the city would know exactly what she was and exactly what he’d accidentally done, and that was a problem he couldn’t afford in any sense of the word.

Can’t have that.

He reached into his left pocket and found one coin at the bottom. He pulled it out and looked at it sitting in his palm.

One silver.

The ore share from the morning job was going to cover nothing. He already knew that before he’d counted it.

He pushed himself up off the floor. "Dune."

"Felix." She straightened immediately, like she’d been waiting.

"We have to find work before sunset or you’ll be sleeping on an empty stomach."

"My stomach is empty now."

He looked at her. "Yeah. Mine too. So we go to the market district, find something cheap to eat, and find someone willing to pay for a job tonight."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "In that order."

"Yes. Let’s go together." She stood.

Felix’s eyes moved up and down once. She was still wearing the worn black cloth she’d manifested in, bare feet on the stone floor, the dark markings climbing her neck catching the afternoon light through the window.

She looked like something that had walked out of a very old story. Which was accurate, but not useful.

"First you need different clothes," he said.

"Something that makes you look like a person someone would trust with a job."

"Yes." She reached for the cloth at her shoulder and began pulling it off.

"Wait." He turned away immediately. "Not here."

The market district was quieter than it should have been for midday. Felix noticed it as soon as they turned onto the main stretch, the usual press of bodies and noise thinned down to closer of a slow afternoon. End of season. Everyone’s stock ran dry and the next merchant convoy still had a week out at least. He’d timed this badly, which was becoming a theme.

He stopped at a small house on the left where Alam had his usual setup out front, oil and bread and a few other things arranged on a table while the man himself sat in a chair waving flies away.

Alam looked up as they approached. His eyes went to Felix first, then to Dune, and stayed there a moment longer than was polite.

"Young Felix," he said. "And young girl."

"Two butter breads," Felix said, and tossed the silver onto the table.

Alam caught it and turned it over once. "The market’s rough for you too?"

"End of season’s always rough." Felix leaned against the table edge. "Same for everyone."

"Mm." Alam handed over the two pieces of bread without moving from his chair. "You should clear that debt as soon as you can. Thirty silvers now."

"You said twenty-five, five days ago."

"That was before the oil and the grain." Alam waved another fly away. "Don’t play dumb with me, boy."

Felix handed one piece of bread to Dune. "Before the merchants arrive. Full amount."

"With interest."

"Sure." He took a bite and started walking.

He glanced sideways at Dune.

She had sniffed the bread once, watched him eat for approximately half a second, then shoved the entire thing into her mouth at once. Both cheeks were full. She was chewing with focused concentration like completing a task.

"You need to learn human manners," he said.

"Y#hj," she said, through the bread.

"I don’t understand anything you just said."

He looked back at the street ahead and caught movement at the perfume stall across the way. Four men crowded the counter, one of them with his fist in the owner’s collar, voices low enough that Felix couldn’t make out the words but the shape of it was clear enough.

He watched them for a moment, eating his bread slowly.

When the four men turned to leave he was already crossing the street. His hand went into his pocket and came back with a card. He sent it without breaking stride, a clean flat throw that covered the distance and landed against the back of one man’s shoulder before sliding inside his collar. The man reached up and scratched at his neck without slowing down.

Felix and Dune arrived at the perfume stall.

He picked up one of the bottles near the front and turned it over, checking the price tag on the bottom.

Twenty silvers. For the cheapest one on the table.

He pulled the stopper and held it up anyway. Jasmine and something else underneath it, sharp and warm. Hot chilli, maybe. Strange combination. He put it back.

Dune leaned forward and lowered her face toward the same bottle.

She jerked back immediately, blinking.

"Are you looking for something specific?" The owner had straightened behind the counter. His posture was composed; his expression wasn’t. "If you tell me what you need I can point you in the right direction."

"Those men from earlier," Felix said, keeping his voice easy. "I saw them from across the street. They didn’t look friendly."

The owner’s face changed. "And so what. They do this every end of season. Take what they want and walk off. I filed a report with the city knights two months ago." He set down the cloth he’d been holding. "They said they’d handle it."

"And they didn’t."

"Not one word since." The man’s voice had gone tight. "If I didn’t have a family to think about I’d have handled it myself a long time ago. But nobody wants to get involved. Too much trouble for other people’s problems."

Felix considered the bottles on the table for a moment. "Here’s what I can do. I’ll get your things back tonight. I’ll need a cut of whatever they took."

The owner looked at him suspiciously.

Felix took a small step back from the counter. "But if you’d rather find someone else, that’s fine. Plenty of people in this city need work done."

"You look like a boy," the owner said.

Felix’s expression didn’t change, but a weary look settled in his eyes. "Go to the adventurer’s guild and ask who Felix is. Then come back and tell me what you think."

The owner was quiet for a long moment. A cart rolled past on the street behind them. Dune was looking at a small glass bottle near the edge of the table with an expression of intense suspicion.

"Alright," the owner said finally. "Bring back what they took. I’ll pay you fair." He pointed once. "But if you get yourself hurt don’t come to me about it."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." Felix turned toward the street. "Stay open until sunset. I’ll be back before then."