“Who’s breaking what?” Jim poked his head around the fire, munching on an apple.

“We have visitors, and they don’t sound like they’re here to congratulate us on our fine work.”

“I thought it went well,” Kate snorted.

“How far out, Shin?”

“Ten minutes, maybe a little more.”

“Alright, let’s be ready for them. And hide the girl… I have a feeling her part in this won’t end well in their hands.”

* * * * *

“Oi, Mugsy, isn’t the sight of your droopy face a delight ‘pon my eyes.”

“Is it now? If I recall, the last time we spoke it was a heavy-handed conversation of fists.”

“That it was.”

“And your own ugly mug, I heard, didn’t heal so well.”

“That it did not.”

The two groups of men stood no further than five paces apart, the moonlight illuminating them quite well through great gaps in the warehouse roof, though Mugs ensured his crew stood between the strangers and the fire, drawing attention away from the unconscious girl and silhouetting his men.

As distasteful as the history was, it was incorrect to call them strangers. At least four men he recognized, that is four immoral killers, one of which he was addressing. Madoc, their leader, a mercenary all manner of deplorable, smirked at the man he once embellished as “friend”. Details aside, Mugs realized long ago that Madoc’s loyalty was deceiving, a façade torn down ferociously at the first sign of coin. It was a nasty reminder of the type of life he walked, and he would not soon forget it.

“… But as you can see now, Mugsy, I’ve had the pleasure of working with some exquisitely talented magicians. Notice the scar you inflicted on my left cheek from the brawl in New Charleston? Gone. Poof!” He pulled a dagger from inside his trenchcoat and brushed it along a stunningly unblemished face. “That’s the work of Sparks for you. What fascinating creatures.”

“Sounds like it took serious money. You can hide behind a pretty smile but some people don’t forget what you did.”

“Oh, it was an absurd amount of native coin. The yen, I believe is what they adopted. Enough of that, though; I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“Yes, with ten men in the dead of night before the appointed rendezvous? You break the contract, Madoc, and with that comes some doubt. Why don’t you tell me?”

Madoc grinned and leaned forward. “The princess, please.”

“She’s dead!” Thomas sputtered.

Mugs shot him a look. The man was nervous. Damn it to hell.

Madoc tensed when Thomas spoke. He narrowed his eyes, and the mood that hung between the groups darkened. “Is that so?”

“It is.” Mugs was prepared for this. He tossed the man an intricate, golden necklace. “She was assassinated before we could reach her. You see the dragon charm on the end there, with the sapphire eyes? They are jewels of the royal family. Should be enough to verify we did our job.”