Reralt stood outside the barracks. Narro had gone in fifteen minutes earlier. The last time Reralt tried this sort of thing, it had ended with him punching everyone in sight and dangling Matt upside down until the poor sod finally talked. Probably wouldn’t go over as well the second time.

  Back then, the Chamberlain had pushed him into chasing that stupid Hat prophecy. Back when he’d still pretended to care.

  He bumped his head lightly against the wall. “Stupid Reralt,” he muttered. “If only I’d thought for one bloody minute. If only Narro had told me what to do.”

  “Meow.”

  The Void brushed against his legs, purring like she had a plan.

  He sighed, scooped her up, scratched her chin. She purred louder. His voice trembled less.

  “Yeah, yeah. I hear you. I’m her godfather.”

  He set her down, straightened his shoulders.

  “I am her godfather. And I will get her out.”

  And with that, he walked into the barracks.

  ***

  The barracks were quiet. Everybody was regaining their breath, sipping tea, nibbling cookies.

  The mayhem spread through the room in a way that even impressed Reralt; he knew how hard it was to distribute chaos evenly. Broken chairs stuck out of the ceiling. In one wall, a shard of teacup pinned a cookie like a dagger pinning a note. The smell of sweat, blood, and something that reminded Reralt of home lingered in the air. He looked to see if Narro was lying somewhere, knocked unconscious.

  Reralt was surprised to see Narro sitting in Matt’s usual spot — and even more surprised to see the big purple hat perched on his head.

  Reralt smiled. “Knew you could do it.”

  Then he stopped. There was something in Narro’s eyes he had never seen before — a rebellious glare.

  “Change of rules!” Narro shouted, voice cracking across the room. “All on Reralt!”

  Reralt blinked. “What?”

  A teacup exploded against the wall beside his head. A small stool whistled past his ear. Tea splashed down his armor.

  “Ah,” he said, nodding. “I get it now.”

  He laughed — the kind of booming, thunderous laugh that always meant he had misinterpreted the rules entirely. His fists came down like stormclouds.

  Reralt stomped down with all his weight on the paw of the bear. The beast roared—then met a sudden headbutt and crumpled to the floor. One down.

  An old man shuffled into view, wagging a finger. “Cheater! The cheater returned!”

  Reralt picked him up like luggage and hurled him straight into a big white rabbit in a green jumpsuit. They collapsed in a heap of fur and fabric. Two down.

  Next came a woman with blond hair tied in blue ribbons. She said nothing—just stared as Reralt lifted her effortlessly and placed her one seat further from the head of the table. Still surprised, she forgot to duck when a flying chair clipped her square in the face. Three down.

  An egg-shaped man cowered under the table.

  Reralt nodded approvingly. “Boring, but easy.” Four down.

  Only one obstacle remained between him and Matt: a posh woman with a heart-shaped crown. She pointed dramatically.

  “Off with his head!”

  Reralt touched his hair. “I don’t have a hat.”

  With one arm, he caught a chair midair and flung it into a cat-shaped fellow across the table, knocking him out cold.

  “No—your head!” the woman shrieked.

  “Don’t—” Reralt slammed his fist on the table. Cups and saucers leapt skyward in a porcelain storm.

  “Have—” he growled, leaning nose-to-nose with her.

  “Hat.”

  The queen blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it again. With quiet dignity, she rose and vacated her seat. Five down.

  ***

  Matt sat between Narro—who had played the game with dazzling precision—and Reralt, who had played his own game with equally dazzling confusion. Both, Matt had to admit, were brilliant in their own ways.

  “Stop!” Matt shouted. “Game over!”

  He looked at Narro. “The winner is…”

  His gaze slid sideways. One eye lingered on Reralt the other on Narro.

  “…the handsome guest.”

  Matt smirked. Narro puffed himself up, laughing like a man who knew he deserved it.

  “I won?” Reralt asked, genuinely puzzled. Then shrugged. “Figures.”

  Matt’s smirk wilted. He picked up a cookie, bit into it with disappointment, and chewed like it was the only dignity he had left.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  ***

  “So,” Matt said after eating his cookie and sipping some tea, “you come for plot exposition?”

  Narro frowned. Reralt nodded.

  “My daughter is trapped in some sort of well.” Narro suddenly realized how stupid that sounded. “We need a hat to get her out… or something.” It was not improving.

  “Or something?” Matt puzzled over the words. “If you do not know what you are asking for, the answer might not be what you need.”

  The room laughed. Another one of Matt’s crazy gibberish answers they all enjoyed so much.

  Narro thought it was deep and philosophical. He thought to himself: what do I need?

  Before he could find more eloquent, descriptive words, Reralt took over.

  “The Well of All. We need the stupid Hat, to release the lost gods.” Reralt grabbed Matt’s cookie, threw it on the ground, and stomped it flat under his heel. “Or do you like to hang upside down from the roof again?”

  “Reralt, why?” Narro pointed at Matt in panic. “He is helping!”

  Reralt frowned. “Is he?” He turned to the lady with the heart-shaped crown. “Do you want to dangle upside down from the roof?”

  The lady opened her mouth, confused about what she should say, then pointed at the bear. “He loves that kind of stuff,” she said with a wink.

  Reralt suspected the lady was lying. Still, it fitted his immediate needs. So he stood up fiercely, breaking his chair in the process.

  “Reralt!” Narro tried to stop him from hurting the poor creature; he looked hurt enough.

  “Yes?” Reralt already had the bear slumped over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, you need my help of course?”

  “Yes,” Narro squeaked out, that backfired really fast. “That bear knows something, but don’t hurt him.” Then, in a whisper that fooled no one: “Don’t hurt him.”

  Reralt winked, found a stairway to the roof, and carried the poor creature with him.

  “Smart, you are a smart person,” Matt laughed. “So, to remedy this urge to fill the gaps in your knowledge…” He took another sip of tea. “I presume here, as it is the Well of All, your child has some godly blood, otherwise she would have perished at sight?”

  Narro nodded. He started to like the crazy person. He wondered if it rubbed off on him.

  “My wife is a gorgon,” Narro blurted.

  The whole room went silent. Only a faint aaaaaahhhhhh came from the rooftop.

  “Which one?” Matt asked. “I hope not Euryale. But I guess not, you can still hear, and still in one piece. So probably Medusa.” Matt deduced this while casually asking if anyone needed more tea.

  Narro nodded. He was not going to ask how Matt knew all those things. He also wondered about the sisters of Mary. He knew so little of his wife’s history.

  “Good. So safe to assume your daughter is safe in the Well. She has half-god blood.” Matt patted Narro on the back. “You managed to marry a man-hater.” He laughed.

  “She pretty much hates everything,” Narro stuttered. He managed to grab a cup that wasn’t leaking and had some tea. “She jumped after our daughter.” His mouth was dry after the strongest tea he had ever had. “I guess she does not hate her.”

  Matt nodded, he looked surprised. “So you need The Hat.” The air in his lungs escaped in one big sigh. “Hope you are up to it.”

  Narro looked resilient. “I am tougher than I look.” Then, hoping nobody saw, he put some sugar in the tea to soften its bitter taste.

  “Yes, you are.” Matt smiled.

  ***

  “To summarise,” Narro said after a lengthy explanation from Matt, who Narro suspected used extra-long words just to sound smart. Some of the words apparently didn’t exist at all. Narro was beginning to understand where Reralt had learned that behavior. He was even thinking to ask if, at some point, Reralt had been in this asylum.

  “To summarise: to get the Hat we need to go to a dungeon where the gods hid it. This dungeon’s location is unknown… but if we look long enough, we’ll find it?” Narro pursed his lips. “That’s not helpful at all.”

  At that moment a bear limped through the door — the same one Reralt had dangled from the roof and apparently dropped by accident. The bear put on a hat and a raincoat and left quietly. He had had enough.

  Narro looked at Matt, who seemed to be guessing his thoughts.

  “Dangling me on the roof will not make me know where the dungeon is,” Matt said sternly. “You have to find it by yourself.”

  “Ah yes, I remember that.” A mildly entertained silver-haired colossus appeared behind Matt. “Like when you swore you didn’t know where the Well was. Some dangling made you remember.”

  Reralt grinned widely. “Makes extra blood go up to the head.”

  Already he had a worried-looking Matt lifted in one arm, chair, tea, and cookie included.

  “For thinking,” Reralt offered to Narro, who nodded.

  “Not again!” Matt called out.

  ***

  They rode out again, under the archway and back onto the road. Reralt was fiddling with his new, too-big purple hat. Narro wore a greyish beret he’d gotten from Matt. It looked good on him, so he wore it handsomely—trying very hard not to look at the towering nurse who stood in the entrance, waving at him.

  Reralt laughed. “Well, if we cannot get Mary back, I think we know where to go.”

  “Laugh all you want. We need to find this dungeon. What did Matt say under your duress?”

  “My what?” Reralt twisted around to look at his behind. “Say that again if you dare.” His eyes twitched, making Narro sigh immediately.

  “What did Matt say when you were ‘talking’ to him?”

  “Not much.” Reralt rolled his eyes. “And I dangled him extra hard. So—the Maze of Many. We’ll run into it somehow.” He said it with determination.

  “The Maze of Many?” Narro asked.

  “Yes. The dungeon. The Maze of Many it is called.” Reralt frowned, then smugly added, “So it did work. Dangling always works.” He petted the Void. “More blood to the head, more remembering juice.”

  The Void looked at him with eyes that actually just wanted to sleep. She raised one paw, pointed west, then curled up and pretended to nap.

  Narro followed her gaze. “Guess we’ll go west, then.”

  ***

  Oh gather round, ye gentlefolk, and hear this solemn tale,

  Of a kindly bear in coat and hat, who dangled o’er the rail.

  He packed his marmalade with care, his manners soft and fair,

  Until the day that Reralt came, and dangled him mid-air.

  From rooftop high the bear did sway, his paws a-flap in fright,

  He begged for tea, he begged for jam, he begged for civil rights.

  But Reralt only grinned and said, “It makes the thinking clear.

  More blood to head, more answers found — a dangling souvenir.”

  The hat stayed on, the coat stayed neat, his dignity half-kept,

  Though teacups flew and wolves did howl, he whimpered as he wept.

  At last he limped away in rain, his patience worn threadbare,

  And all the town still whispers low: Beware the Dangling Bear.