Chapter 23 — Proof of Death, Dan the Smuggler

Part 1 — Exile, Then Saving the Nation

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“So that’s your ‘evidence,’ huh,” Ellie said, finally seeing the shape of my plan.

“Right. I take their bloody clothes and trinkets to the guild, claim I found them in the western forest, and everyone assumes they died like any other fool. Once things cool down, we slip them across the border. No ties to us; the foxkin won’t rat us out. Risky? Sure. But better than the alternatives.”

Jack swallowed. “You’d… do that for us?”

“Think it through first,” I said. “I’ll send hot water and plain clothes. Clean up, then give me anything linked to your identities.”

We left before they could protest, steps crunching softly over packed earth. Ellie nudged me.

“And after that?” she asked. “They’re safe?”

“For a while,” I said. “But what then? A baron’s daughter and her steward aren’t exactly cut out for border towns. Hiding them forever would be a nightmare. Unless they want to spend the rest of their lives stuck in our log cabin, we need to give them a clean break.”

Ellie sighed. “I suppose.”

“We drew the short straw the moment Mimi spotted them,” I said. “Might as well see it through.”

***

Kelly and Jack chose “death.” We took their clothes and jewelry, shredded everything, and marched into the guild with a dramatic rescue report. A week later, a baronial envoy arrived. I presented the scraps; he handed over a bag of gold.

“With this, we can move forward with the marriage negotiations,” he said blandly. “Her younger sister is… suitable.”

So that was that. Dad didn’t care which daughter married the ‘catch.’

***

New moon night. Elza and Liza returned to their wyvern forms, blindfolded the couple, and lifted them in a suspended cart. In less than an hour we crossed the border and set them down near a friendly town.

“Sever the ties,” I said, pressing the untouched gold bag into Jack’s hands. “Use this to start over. Don’t mention us.”

They tried to return half; I refused.

“Thank you,” Kelly whispered. “For killing us.”

“Don’t die for real,” I said. “Not after all this melodrama.”

They vanished into the lamplit streets.

“Ever the bleeding heart,” Liza teased as she landed beside me in human form.

“Truly,” Elza agreed. “You’ll give away your soul at this rate.”

“It’s my soul,” I muttered. “I’ll spend it how I like.”

On the flight back they pressed close—Liza on one arm, Elza on the other—offering distractions I wasn’t ready to accept.

“Another time,” I told them softly. “Tonight, we go home.”

They pouted, but obeyed. Ellie’s gaze speared me the moment we touched down anyway.

“You know everyone’s going to call you ‘Dan the Runner’ now, right?” she said later.

“Better than ‘Dan the Executioner,’” I said, collapsing onto my bedroll.

For now, that had to be enough.

----- End of chapter -----