“I take it back. Rach’s friend is not nice.” Felicia scowls as the mohawked goblin ties her hands together.

We’re all panting on the floor, laughing hysterically. “What’s one more death scare?” Rach says, her toothy grin as reassuring as a mind-drunk werecat.

Vera tucks the gem away like a kangaroo with a pouch, her hand lingering in the fabric pocket. “I’ll keep it safe.”