Priscilla lost the slippers she had on as she ran, the shoes flying right off at the speed she was going. She saw people turn to her with a smile but she ignored them, keeping her gaze locked on the red-headed man who laughed at something that Kavil said, clapping the young man on the back. Kavil stared back with a wide smile, his delight at making the other man laugh clear even from this distance.

  That sight made her blood boil – the fact that Kopica’a could just stand there and act like a caring mentor when they had left Frean’s body in such a horrible state.

  Kopica’a was turned away from Priscilla, so it gave her the perfect angle to kick the back of the doppelganger’s knees and shove them sprawling onto the ground. Kavil let out a shocked noise but Priscilla put him out of her mind as she was immediately on Kopica’a. Her knee dug into the small of Kopica’a’s back and she pinned their right arm with her other leg. Priscilla ignored the pain in her shoulder as she yanked Kopica’a’s left arm back into a painful angle and wrapped her right hand around their neck.

  It all happened within three seconds before anyone had the time to react. Asha was intensely focused, radiating its willingness for violence if Priscilla gave the word. It was heady to know that Asha would do anything for Priscilla, and that she held Kopica’a’s life in her hands, even if they didn’t know it.

  “Who are you?” Priscilla asked, her voice low and raspy as she resisted the urge to squeeze the life out of the doppelganger.

  “Who am I? Who the hell are you?” Kopica’a said, though it was muffled with their face pressed against the dirt. “You attacked me out of –”

  “I am the person that helped save everyone last night when I beat the bandit leader to death,” Priscilla said, cold voice cutting them off, “but I guess you missed that fact because you weren’t here.”

  Kopica’a stilled beneath her before they struggled to turn their head to look at her. Priscilla was having none of that and kept them firmly against the ground. She didn’t want them to get a good look at her for petty reasons, as she knew a faceless enemy was far scarier than one you knew. Priscilla saw Sulaiman enter the edge of her vision, getting between them and Kavil and she smiled. They were on the same page, so Priscilla could do whatever the fuck she wanted.

  “Let me go, you lunatic,” Kopica said before trying to struggle once more. Priscilla raised their arm to a more painful angle and the struggling ceased with a pained hiss.

  “Answer my question and this can all be over,” Priscilla said, trying to soften her voice into something coaxing, “though if you lie, there’ll be some… consequences.”

  “What question? You assaulted me–”

  “Since you’re apparently suffering from short term memory loss,” Priscilla said, delighting in the power she had, “then I’ll repeat it. What is your name?”

  She punctuated the question by pulling their arm up higher and Kopica’a let out a cry.

  There was a bit of commotion off to the side but Priscilla trusted Sulaiman would handle it.

  “My name is unimportant when you’re–”

  Priscilla flexed her fingers around their neck and Asha obligingly made the tips of her fingers sharp like a dagger’s tip as she brushed against both of Kopica’a’s carotid artery. Kopica’a went utterly still beneath her. One fact that Priscilla remembered more than anything from the book was how desperately Kopica’a tried to avoid taking on enemies directly, preferring to take them down with cunning and guile because of one simple reason.

  The doppelganger was afraid of pain.

  “I do believe I told you not to lie,” Priscilla crooned sweetly. “This is your final warning.”

  She could feel Kopica’a swallow, the muscles in their neck flexing against her palm as they took in a shaky breath in a brilliant show of acting.

  “My name is Frean,” Kopica’a said, voice wavering, “please–”

  Priscilla used her firm grip to slam Kopica’a’s head into the ground head on and heard a crack. She kept them pressed down for a moment longer than needed before loosening up so they didn’t choke on their own blood.

  “I thought you knew better than to lie,” Priscilla tutted, tone mockingly stern. “I told you there’d be consequences.”

  “Why… why are you doing this?” Kopica’a said, sounding dazed and nasally.

  “Answer my question truthfully and it’ll all be over.”

  Kopica’a tried struggling again.

  “My name is Frean Hoffsteader!” Kopica’a lied, shifting their head to try and peer to the side. “Kavil, are you just going to let this crazy woman do this to me?”

  Kopica’a truly was a brilliant actor. They sounded desperate and betrayed, begging for Kavil to help. They had gathered a crowd around them, though no one had intervened just yet. Priscilla could hear them murmur to themselves but didn’t try to hear if Kopica’a succeeded in planting seeds of doubt, trusting that Sulaiman would stop anyone who tried to stop her.

  Priscilla flexed her fingers again and pressed her sharp index finger against the artery.

  “Keep lying and let’s see what happens.”

  Kopica’a was silent and Priscilla pressed a little harder. She could feel their breathing quickening, could feel the way their heart rate jumped.

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  “D’zzat,” Kopica’a said, sounding breathless. “My name is D’zzat.”

  The area around them went completely silent with that proclamation.

  Priscilla tutted again like Kopica’a was a naughty school boy.

  “Lying isn’t becoming of you, and I’m getting…” Priscilla scratched a long line against Kopica’a’s neck, not deep enough to cut through the artery but enough to draw blood and sting. “Impatient.”

  Kopica’a stopped struggling and was silent. Priscilla could practically hear the gears turning in their head as they tried to figure out a way out of the situation they had been suddenly thrust into. She bet they were wondering how she knew when they lied, and Priscilla thought it was funny that Kopica’a would never be able to even guess close to the truth.

  “Kopica’a,” the doppelganger finally said in a low voice so that only she could hear. Priscilla was surprised they had actually spoken the truth. She had been looking forward to using their lies as an excuse to knock them out and interrogate them. But Priscilla was still happy they spoke their name aloud because now she could. She wanted to see how much more information she could squeeze out of them while they were at her mercy.

  “See, Kopica’a, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Priscilla said, repeating the name so that everyone could enjoy hearing the truth. “Now, why were you talking to Kavil here while wearing Frean’s face?”

  Kopica’a said nothing and Priscilla wondered if she had pushed too far. Oh well, then she’d just try to deal with them here and now. Priscilla tightened her grip around their throat, intent on giving into the violence that hummed in her veins as she remembered Frean’s mutilated body.

  And then things got a little crazy.

  Kopica’a body rapidly shifted and changed beneath Priscilla, the arm she held ballooning in size, gaining layer upon layer of muscle as their skin turned into a mottled gray green. Kopica’a jerked their arm out of her grasp and shook off her grip on their neck as they pushed themselves to their feet with arms that were two feet longer, even as her finger left claw marks and blood trails against their skin. Priscilla hit the ground hard, catching herself with her arms so her head didn’t hit the ground, which, by the way, was a Bad Idea? as it really fucking hurt and she felt something pop in her shoulder.

  The pleasant, red headed man’s face Kopica’a used as a mask melted into that of a troll's, their jaw dropping and incisors lengthened into something razor sharp, made for biting through hide and make their prey bleed out. Priscilla scrambled back on one arm to not get crushed beneath Kopica’a’s foot, which was now nearly as large as her torso, as the troll took a step and shifted their weight.

  Kopica’a was now over ten feet tall, leaning onto their knuckles and wicked looking claws as tattered clothing hung off their new frame. Kopica’a bellowed at her, spittle flying and a rotting smell hit her nose. Priscilla was surprised to see that it looked like Kopica’a’s nose had transferred between their forms but there was no time to be focused on details. They raised their claws, intent to slam it down into her heart and Priscilla knew her flimsy dress would do nothing to protect her.

  Then a prickle of pain went through Priscilla’s side and a sphere of flame slammed into the side of Kopica’a’s head. Green skin crackled and burned, turning an angry red, as Kopica’a turned to the source of the magic, baring their teeth and letting out a roar.

  Sulaiman had his hand raised, eyes fixed on the new threat, as six motes of flame came to existence around his shoulders as the villagers were all smartly backing away as quickly as possible. Kavil stood just behind him, staring up at Kopica’a with horror.

  The first mote of flame stretched into an arrow and shot forward, aimed at Kopica’a’s eyes. Kopica’a moved their head faster than expected, dodging the fire. As the other arrows shot forward, Kopica’a’s body began to shrink in a stomach turning display, bones cracking and skin folding in over itself. Kopica’a’s eyes bulged as their face rapidly shifted and shrunk, a flame arrow just barely missing.

  Sulaiman narrowed his eyes as small, translucent wings popped out of Kopica’a’s back and began to buzz, keeping Kopica’a hovering in the air. Pink hair framed their pixie face and yellow eyes that burned with hatred as they bared small, but very pointy teeth at Sulaiman.

  But instead of changing shape again or attacking, Kopica’a glared at Priscilla and then flew straight upwards, disappearing over the tops of the trees.

  Priscilla stared, breathing hard. Her shoulder radiated pain with each breath and felt oddly wet.

  “Well fuck,” Priscilla said in the echoing silence as everyone tried to process what just happened. “That didn’t go quite how I planned.”

  Sulaiman let out an aggrieved noise at her flippant attitude and stalked over to her, his black eyes raking over her.

  “Idiot,” Sulaiman hissed, “I tell you to take it easy and what do you do not even ten minutes later? Confront and interrogate a murderer without so much as a second thought!”

  “Ah, Sulaiman, you know how I can’t–” Priscilla said as she tried to push herself to her feet, forgetting her injury momentarily. Her arm crumpled as soon as she put a smidgen of weight on it and she couldn’t hold back the pained noise that escaped her mouth. Sulaiman just barely caught her before Priscilla face-planted in the dirt.

  “Quiet you,” Sulaiman barked, though his grip was gentle and firm on her uninjured shoulder. “Kavil, come heal this idiot before she can ruin herself anymore.”

  “Y-yes,” Kavil said, coming to kneel next to them, his hands glowing. Kavil’s eyes were wide and he swallowed shakily, but Priscilla felt immediate relief and she sighed as the pain began to be chased away. The feeling of skin knitting back together was strange and tingly, not pleasant but not uncomfortable either. Magic was weird and so fucking cool.

  But it seemed not everything could be healed with magic, as Kavil frowned and reached out and had to grab her shoulder and popped it back into place. That hurt like a bitch, but it was so much better than what she felt thirty seconds ago now that she could wiggle her fingers again.

  “Thanks again, savior,” Priscilla said, giving Kavil a half-smile that seemed to startle him as he blinked back at her, “though we really need to stop meeting like this.”

  “It’s just a patch-job,” Kavil said in a small voice, ignoring Priscilla’s silliness, which was fair considering the circumstances and that made Priscilla sober up a bit as well. “I finally closed the skin on the wound so you won’t bleed out, but your body won’t let me heal you fully. I’m going to have to insist you let me put the entire arm in a sling so you can’t… ‘ruin yourself.’”

  “Is that really necessary?” Priscilla asked, crinkling her nose. She had broken her arm exactly once before and hated how restricted she felt as it was healing, making her feel helpless and reliant on others. Mr. –– said she was the worst patient he had ever treated because of how often she went against the doctor’s orders.

  “You don’t get to argue,” Sulaiman said, leaning in to glare at her, “especially since you are so inept at taking care of yourself.”

  The expression was much more effective when he was this close to her, his dark eyes glittering in a way that told Priscilla she was in for the lecture of a lifetime if she tried to disagree with him.

  Priscilla decided to just nod, looking at Kavil because he was less scary at the moment.

  “How long will I be trapped, doc?” Priscilla asked, resigning herself to her new future.

  “I can keep trying to stimulate your natural healing process to progress faster,” Kavil said, though he looked uncertain, “but it’ll be at least a week, if not two.”

  Priscilla tried not to deflate at that news.

  Jeroinin finally approached, the earlier joy gone as she stared down at Priscilla. The woman's face was carefully neutral and Priscilla went still when she realized the woman deliberately looked at Asha before Jeroinin resettled her gaze on Priscilla’s face.

  “Now that you’re healed,” Jeroinin said, “I hope you don’t mind answering a few questions.”