Tony was dreaming. At least, Miri assumed the low rumbling growl vibrating through the mattress was a dream and not an impending murder attempt.

  She cracked one eye open.

  Morning light spilled across the room. Tony lay sprawled across most of the bed again, one massive paw twitching, whiskers flicking as if chasing something only he could see.

  Then someone knocked. Tony’s head snapped up and the growl deepened.

  “Easy,” Miri mumbled, rolling onto her back. “If it’s breakfast, we’re friendly.”

  Another knock. Firmer this time.

  Tony slid off the bed in one fluid motion and padded to the door. He did not growl again, but he did sit directly in front of it like a very furry barricade.

  Miri dragged herself upright, ran a hand through her hair, and opened the door.

  Tamsin stood there. She took in the tiger. The rumpled bed. Miri’s barely-awake expression.

  “New boyfriend?” Tamsin asked with a smirk.

  “Wouldn’t be my worst choice,” Miri played along and opened the door wider.

  Tamsin stepped inside without further ado, holding the back of her hand out for Tony to sniff. He seemed to approve of her. For now.

  “Sooo… there’s a contract on the board,” she said. “High payout. Urgent. Discreet.”

  Miri blinked. “That’s three adjectives that could end badly.”

  “It’s not a dungeon.”

  “That’s four.”

  Tamsin ignored her. “Someone in town needs a Master Warder located and escorted back. Not an apprentice. Not a hedge mage. A high-level specialist.”

  Miri’s sleep fog thinned.

  “A warder for what?”

  “They didn’t say.”

  “Love that.” Miri frowned. She wanted easy jobs, she wasn't ready for high-level anything. Especially not high-level mysteries.

  Tamsin crossed her arms. “It’s good money. Very good money. And it’s far.”

  “How far?”

  “Over a month east. Past the foothills. Past the second trade road.”

  Miri sat up straighter. That was not “wander through the woods for a week” far.

  “That’s… out there.”

  “Yes.”

  Tony turned his head between them like a spectator at a tennis match.

  Tamsin continued, voice even. “You’ve been leveling inside a safe bubble. Ten to twenty miles out, low-level monsters. Controlled contracts. Predictable threats.”

  Miri bristled slightly. “I almost died.”

  “Yes,” Tamsin said calmly. “To a ghost near town.”

  That one kinda hurt, regardless of how true it was.

  “If you want to grow,” Tamsin went on, “you need distance. Higher-tier creatures. Unmapped stretches. Terrain that doesn’t know you.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Miri folded her arms. “And you want me because…?”

  “You fight well under pressure. You adapt. And you don’t panic when plans change.”

  Tony huffed softly, as if in agreement. Tamsin’s gaze flicked to him. “And you have him.”

  Miri glanced at Tony. “He’s technically an independent contractor.”

  Tamsin’s mouth twitched. “The road won’t be easy,” she continued. “Bandits sometimes work the trade routes. We’ll pass into monster zones beyond Helmsworth’s patrol range. Terrain shifts from farms to deep forest to marshlands.”

  Miri felt something stir in her chest.

  Excitement.

  Also fear.

  Mostly excitement.

  “Grath can’t go,” Tamsin added. “Guild obligations. He suggested I take it. And that I ask you.”

  That last part mattered, Grath knew she Miri looked at Tony. “Month-long hike,” she told him. “Probably mud. Definitely danger. Questionable food.”

  Tony blinked slowly.

  “Not helpful,” she muttered. She looked back at Tamsin. “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow at dawn. Meet at the Mercantile in an hour. We’ll sell what you’ve accumulated and stock properly.”

  “Properly?”

  “You do not yet know what properly means.”

  That sounded expensive.

  Miri thought about why she was hesitant to do exactly what she needed to do. Make friends, get stronger, then... something? She didn't need to know the end goal to understand what path she needed to be on. This was it. She just needed to jump.

  “Fine,” she swung her legs off the bed. “Let’s go see how badly unprepared I am.”

  And how far I can jump.

  After Tamsin left, Miri dressed quickly and followed Tony downstairs. Miss Jane was behind the counter, already in full morning motion. She looked up.

  “Well,” she said warmly, “if it isn’t my favorite walking liability.”

  Tony gave her a polite blink. Miri slid onto a stool and swiped a fresh blueberry muffin from the plate offered to her with a hesitant, but grateful smile.

  “Jane… I might be leaving town again. For a while.”

  Jane paused only slightly. “How long is ‘a while’?”

  “Month. Maybe more.” She pinched off a piece of muffin and offered it to Tony.

  “You want me to hold the room?”

  Miri hesitated. “I don’t want to rent it full-time if I’m not here. But… I don’t want to lose it either.” She was just making friends with Jane, she didn't want to inconvenience her or ask for too much.

  Jane snorted. “Child. This is not a boarding house with rotating strangers. You live here when you’re in town.”

  “Really?” A small part of Miri had expected as much, but it was an immense relief to have it confirmed. "Thank you."

  “You and your oversized housecat are always welcome.”

  Tony chose that moment to press his massive head against Jane’s hip. She melted instantly.

  “Oh, you manipulative creature.”

  Miri smiled. “Can you be around tonight?” she asked. “We leave at dawn, but I’d like to have dinner with you all before we go.”

  Jane waved a hand, cheeks blushing with pleasure. “I’ll make something hearty. Something that keeps you upright in bad weather and poor decisions.”

  “Perfect.”

  Miri stood, suddenly aware that this was real.

  A month away. Beyond the safe fields.

  She felt smaller than she had five minutes ago. And also bigger.

  “Alright,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “Mercantile.”

  The Mercantile was already alive when Miri and Tony arrived. Canvas awnings snapped overhead. Mana-lamps hummed faintly in iron brackets. The smell of leather oil, sugar glaze, and metal polish drifted in warm currents between stalls.

  Miri had never been much of a shopper, but she was definitely a browser. She flitted like a butterfly from stall to stall, oohing and ahhing, pointing and inspecting.

  Tony drew a few double-takes at first.

  A merchant selling dyed scarves froze mid-fold. A halfling child pointed. An elderly dwarf squinted over a crate of quartz shards.

  Miri and Tony browsed on, the complete meltdown of the man yesterday upon merely seeing the tiger was thankfully an aberration.

  Tamsin appeared a little while later, stepping forth between two potion stalls like she’d grown there.

  “You’re late,” she said.

  “I was extremely on time,” Miri replied. Tony leaned against Miri’s leg with all two hundred pounds of himself.

  Tamsin’s eyes flicked to him, then back to Miri. Approval. Mild calculation.

  “Good. Let’s go.”