This is the serialization of a story I posted to Patreon last month. Click here to see all the sections I’ve posted so far.

–

I stared out the window of the inn, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Any thoughts?” asked Iason, startling me.

“Tons,” I said. “None helpful.” I glared at the hills
just outside the city walls, and the fortress sitting on top of them.
“It’s right there!” I declared, jabbing my finger toward the
fortress. “I can feel it!”

“Well, unless you can fly, we’re not getting over that wall unless we
figure out what to do about the guards.” He hesitated. “Can
you fly?”

“Not well,” I said, turning away from the window. “And not
far, especially not carrying something as heavy as a full-grown  man in
armor.”

He stared at me.

“What?”

“You… you just admitted there’s something you’re not good at!”
He stepped toward me and rested his hand flat on top of my head. “My
little Lemma, you’re maturing so quickly! Maybe soon you’ll grow some actual
br–”

“If you finish that word,” I said quietly, “you’re never
going to say another. Now get your hand off me if you want to keep it!”

“Fine, fine,” he said, turning away. “I was just teasing.
What crawled up your butt, anyway?”

Some kind of witch or ghost or something froze time and said a bunch of
nonsense and no one but me noticed, for starters!

“I told you, I’m a persona!”

We both jumped, and Iason’s sword was in his hand almost faster than I could
see. He pointed it at the gorgeous redhead in the green dress, who was now
draped across a couch that I’m pretty sure hadn’t been there before I looked
out the window.

“Who’re you?” he demanded.

“You can see her?” I asked. Phew. At least I’m not going crazy.

“Not yet, anyway,” said the woman.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Listen, I want to
help.”

“Yeah, that’s a good plan,” I said sarcastically. “Let’s
accept help from the self-declared trickster spirit.”

“Wonderful!” she replied, clapping her hands. “I’m glad you
agreed so easily, I was expecting more of a struggle.”

Even if I said I accept your help, I didn’t mean it.

“I accept your help,” I agreed.

“Lemma?” asked Iason.

“I did mean it,” I continued.

He hesitated, looking at me curiously. Why? I accepted her help, and I meant
it when I said it. Wasn’t that obvious? “Well,” he finally said.
“If you’re sure.”

–

To be continued tomorrow… but Patreon backers can read the whole thing right now, and more!

Lemma the Librarian: Tricks of the Trade | Midori Konton on Patreon